#I’m a little bit upset because I spent this entire year trying to rebuild right. rebuild my social life rebuild the me I used to be

[hobisexually]

x

[jmagnabo92]

Wooing Sirius Black

First Chapter of Part 3 of Rebuilding (1/15) - will post on Prongsfoot Wednesdays!  AO3

Despite their first date going well, Sirius gets a little uncertain when James seems interested in jumping passed dating and straight to sex, prompting Sirius to feel uncertain about jumping in head first.

***

July 17th, 1983

When James wakes the next morning, he can’t help smiling at the peacefully sleeping Sirius.  It feels nice and normal after months of feelings and trying to hide them to be able to blatantly let them show.  

      He leans up on one of his elbows and runs a hand through Sirius’ hair, admiring him.  He’s bloody gorgeous and now, he’s all James’.  He couldn’t wait to show him off at the next party (as no one, but Jackie knows for sure that James or Sirius have any feelings for each other).  He’s particularly happy that the couple of men that had been interested in Sirius at the New Year’s Eve party would now know that Sirius is James’ – exactly as he’s always been, but now, they’ll know it, too.  

      “Hmm-mm, that feels good,” Sirius smiles, eyes still closed.  

      “Yeah?  You like to be petted?” James questions, interested to paying attention to the things his boyfriend likes.  

      “Well – it – it just feels good, you know?  Wouldn’t call it being petted though,” Sirius offers, eyes still closed.  He’s clearly enjoying the feeling of James’ hands in his hair.

      “Oh, why not?”

      “Because I’m not a dog – not really.”

      “Hmm-mm, so we’re going to ignore the fact that you do enjoy being petted?” James teases, leaning down and giving him a kiss.  “Maybe I can pet something else later?”

      At this, Sirius opens his eyes, “We’ve only been dating for less than forty-eight hours.  I think you should stick to petting my hair.”

      Clearly, something on James’ face conveys his disappointment, because Sirius adds, “James, this isn’t a knock on how attractive you are – it’s just… this is a big step, already, this dating thing.  I can’t stand the thought of screwing it up, okay?”

      James nods, reluctantly.  “I see your point.”

      Sirius grins and gives him a kiss, “It’s not forever – just for now.”

      James smiles, feeling better that Sirius isn’t rejecting him, just putting on the brakes for a bit.  “Alright, then.”

      Before any more could be said, they both hear the sounds of Harry yelling for them.  “Coming, kiddo,” Sirius yells before James has the chance.  “Your turn for making breakfast.”

      James nods.   “Meet you in the kitchen.”

***

      Since Harry’s birthday is in a couple of weeks, they spent the day picking out decorations and buying presents for their kid.  James’ favorite part of the entire day was getting to spend the day holding Sirius’ hand and getting to tell their various friends that they spotted while at Harrods that they’re dating.  

      As they arrive home, Sirius shows Harry one of the gifts that they decided to give him early – a little mini motorbike just like Sirius’.  It doesn’t go very fast and has safety precautions since he’s only three, but Harry’s thrilled as he sits on it and Sirius makes it go in circles.

      “Look, Daddy!  I’m Paddy!” Harry yells, gleefully.  

      Sirius joins James watching from a distance.  

      “He may look like a mini me, but Harry’s going to be so you,” James teases.  

      Sirius laughs.  “Well, I did get him started with the baby broom, which I plan to regift him this year.  Then he’ll be back to being a mini you.”

      James frowns, “You bought him another broom?”

      “Of course, gotta train our little quidditch player to be, right?”

Sirius is teasing, but James’ frown deepens.  Despite knowing that things had somewhat settled down and that they have a lawyer working on dealing with the memorial, James doesn’t really like the reminder of the magical world.  He’d gotten better, but he doesn’t like thinking or dealing with too many magical things anymore.  The only reason he was okay with the dragons and Sirius as Padfoot is because Harry loves them, and he doesn’t want to take anything away from his son.

He glances at Sirius.  Well, that and he doesn’t want to upset his new boyfriend.

He puts a smile on his face, and says, “Right, of course.  Gotta train him now.”

“You okay, Jay?” Sirius questions, obviously picking up that something is wrong.  

“Of course I am.  Just tired from all the shopping and showing off my new boyfriend,” James grins.  It felt great to show Sirius off, and he’s delighted to do more of it soon.  Sirius is his and he loves making that clear to everyone.

Sirius grins, “Yeah?  You like showing me off?”

“Oh yes.  You’re my boyfriend and I’m damn proud of it,” James grins.  He’d been the same way with Lily.  “You can’t be too surprised.”

“Oh?  Why’s that?”

“Because I did the same thing with Lily,” James smiles, surprised that Sirius could forget how gleeful he’d been about showing her off to the world.  “Couldn’t wait to show her off and now I can’t wait to show you off.  We should have a housewarming party after Harry’s birthday – then I could really show you off.  I want to make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.”

James is so excited talking about how much he adores showing off his partners that he doesn’t notice the uneasy look on Sirius’ face, instead he rambles on and on about the housewarming and showing off his new boyfriend.

He couldn’t wait.

***

July 18th, 1983

Sirius loves James.  He’s loved him since he’d been fourteen and first discovered what fancying someone meant.  He’d been thrilled and terrified about it at the same time.  Now, that he finally has a chance to be with James, now that James has admitted that he’s attracted to Sirius, Sirius should be over the moon about the situation, and he was – at first.

He had been so delighted to finally kiss James, to know what it was like to be on a date with him, but now… with James’ comparison to Lily and the interest in sex…

It’s just that they’ve only been together for two days and James’ only interest appears to be sex.  He’s constantly commenting on Sirius’ attractiveness and wanting to be with him in a sexual way and while that is incredibly good for his ego, he worries that sex is all James wants.  

That he’s just a piece of meat that is like Lily but alive and male.  He frowns.

“You need some help over there?” A voice behind him asks.  

As he’s currently building Harry’s new jungle gym without magic, he’s sure that he does need a bit of help.  He looks behind him and spots Spencer, a dark-haired man that he’d met while talking Harry on walks around the neighborhood to get to know the neighbors.  As their house, though on the next block meets their property line (they share the fence that separates their property), it’s no surprise he’s talking from the fence line.

“Oh, er, sure.  As long as Evan doesn’t mind sparing you for a bit,” Sirius smiles.  Evan is Spencer’s husband.  

Spencer grins as he hops the fence.  “Evan took Alex to the park; I wanted some time to myself.”

“And yet, you’re offering me help,” Sirius laughs.  

“Couldn’t help myself.  Gotta help a damsel in distress.”

“I’m a damsel, now?” Sirius teasingly asks.

“Oh always.”

They both burst out laughing.  Sirius had really come to connect with Spencer, who is interested in many of the same things and understands Sirius rather well despite the extremely short time they’ve been friends.  He’d gotten Spencer and Evan into the ‘mummy and me’ class when he’d met them before they’d even moved in, thrilled for Harry, who just adores their little girl, Alex.

“Well, then, feel free to grab a hammer and help out,” Sirius grins.  

They work in quiet for a few minutes, occasionally asking for s tool or something, before Spencer breaks the silence.  “So, where’s James?”

“He took Harry to visit with Jackie and Nathan,” Sirius offers.  “I wanted this to be a surprise for Harry’s birthday, so he couldn’t really be here while I’m building it.”

“Makes sense,” Spencer offers.  “And things going well, there?”

“Harry’s the perfect kid.”

“Not what I meant.”

Sirius sighs.  “I know.”

Despite only knowing Spencer at most a few weeks (they’d met the day after getting the house when Sirius had insisted on walking around the neighborhood to get to know the area despite not moving in yet, he’d felt similar to when he and James had become best friends.  It just feels like they had been friends forever.  

“It’s … okay.”

“Aren’t you happy?  You’ve been fancying him forever,” Spencer states.  “That much was obvious when we met you.”

Sirius shrugs, “I am - it’s just … normal fears, I guess.  He only seems interested in sex, he keeps comparing me to Lily, and I worry it might not be me he fancies or that he’s not ready for this.”

“I’m sure there’s all manner of confusing feelings for him,” Spencer offers.  “That doesn’t necessarily mean…”

“I know,” Sirius sighs.  “And that’s what I’m worried about.  I should’ve made sure that he was actually ready for this before I snogged him and now I can’t – go back.”

Spencer chuckles.  “So just take it slow.  Go on dates, snog a little, but wait it out until you’re sure that he’s really ready to be dating you.”

Sirius smiles.  “That sounds good.  After all, I’ve been keeping it to myself for so long, I think I can handle a little longer.  Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

***

After James puts Harry down for his nap, he goes to find Sirius in their backyard, “Looking good, Love.”

Sirius glances up and laughs, “Thanks, it’s almost finished.”

“I meant you look good, but the jungle gym looks good, too,” James states with a laugh.

He sits in a deck chair as Sirius moves around to the other side of the jungle gym giving James the perfect view of his arse.  James groans, “You know – you could probably finish it up later – we could enjoy the time that Harry’s napping together.”

Sirius doesn’t bother turning around as he says, “Or you could help me with finishing this up.”

James is too busy staring at his arse to answer right away, causing Sirius to turn around.  

“James, are you staring at my arse?”

Suddenly caught, James looks up at him.  “Er – no.”

Sirius chuckles.  “Right, well, you’re not allowed to just sit there and stare at my arse.  So why don’t you go start dinner?”

“Because I’d rather sit here and stare at your arse,” James replies, cheekily.

Sirius gives him a look.  “Go make dinner.”

“Fine.  Fine.  Ruin my fun,” James grumbles.  He supposes that it’s fair, couldn’t exactly expect that Sirius would be willing to have sex have only a few days together.  “Can I at least get a kiss?”

Sirius grins, “Of course.”

***

July 31st, 1983

      James can’t help smiling at their three-year-old son playing games with his friends in their backyard.  Sirius had, once again, gone all out and Harry appears to be having the time of his little life.  Something that makes James ridiculously happy.

      Sirius is such a perfect boyfriend.

      “So, things are going well,” Jackie asks, moving next to him.  Most of the parents had dropped the kids off or were congregated on the far side of the yard, enjoying mimosas.  James had moved to the side with the kids so that he could admire Sirius and help if he needs it.  

      “For the most part, we’ve only managed one date so far, but I think things are going well.”

      Aside from the lack of sex, but he doesn’t say that.  It would sound completely childish to complain about that when he’d been celibate since Lily’s death and he just shouldn’t expect sex so quickly, obviously.  Well, he could, but clearly, Sirius thinks he shouldn’t.  Such nonsense, but it’s Sirius and he absolutely wants this to go well, so he just tries to behave.  

      It’s just so hard when he sees Sirius being such a good dad to Harry, which he’s surprised to learn is such a turn on for him.  Definitely related to why he wants to jump his bones all the time.  

      It certainly doesn’t help that he looks good even in just the basic clothing of shorts and t-shirts.  He bends over to pick something up for one of the kids, and damn that beautiful arse.  

      “Earth to James,” Jackie says, waving a hand in front of his face.

      “I’m sorry, what?” James asks, looking at her surprised.  

      She laughs, “You seem distracted by your boyfriend’s arse.”

      James flushes.  “Can’t help it.  I probably wouldn’t be if I actually got to see it.”

      Jackie gives him a look.

      “I sort of expected that once I told him how I felt that – well, we’d have sex.  You know, like skip a few steps since we’ve been sharing a bed, best friends for years, and fancying each other for a while.”

      “And that’s not what happened?”

      “No,” James says, sadly.  “For some reason he thinks we need to go slow.  I feel like a dozen years is quite slow.”

      “Except for almost all of those years you were looking at your wife as the person that you fancied.  Those years don’t count for that.”

      James shrugs, “Fair enough.  Still, that arse.”

      “It is pretty fine – don’t worry, you’ll get it someday.”

      James grins.  “Hopefully someday soon.”

      She raises her mimosa.  “Cheers.”

***

      Sirius sighs as he throws himself down on the couch.  His kid is asleep, the party is cleaned up and he’s exhausted.  Chasing around after three-year-olds is not his idea of fun, but at least Harry had a good birthday.  Sirius always goes all out because he wants to make up for Lily not being there, but it’s difficult sometimes.

      “You sound exhausted,” James comments as he enters the room.  He lays on his back with his head in Sirius’ lap.  

      Sirius looks down at him, noticing that he’s already down to his pants.  Something he hadn’t done before they got together.  It’s not hard for Sirius to figure out why as Sirius is aware that James wants sex, and he’s making it more and more obvious by trying to show off as much of his body as possible whenever possible, but Sirius won’t give in.  

      It’s too bad for James that Sirius has lived with him for most of the last dozen years and isn’t that phased to see a mostly naked James since he was never all that modest – especially around the dorm room or their home in the last couple of years.  

      “Can I help you?” Sirius questions, obviously trying to address James’ head in his lap.  

      “I thought we’d relax a bit before bed and you would like to play with my hair,” James suggests, blinking up at him innocently.  

      It’s a fair suggestion given that Sirius usually plays with James’ hair while he unwinds and does the crossword, “Alright then.”

      Sirius does enjoy petting James, so he settles in with his crossword and pets him, calmly.  Unfortunately, James doesn’t just want to be petted.  No, after a few minutes, James wants more attention (not at all surprising that this attempt had been a ploy to get Sirius’ attention).

Thus, instead, he sits up and snuggles up against Sirius clearly wanting more attention.  His hands trailing up Sirius’ leg to his cock.  Sirius would ignore him, but his hands are getting a bit too close to Sirius’ cock to let it slide.  “Bad boy.  I told you – slow.”

      James groans and gives him a pleading look.  “I just – I want more.”

      “I know, but … it’s for the best to wait,” Sirius states, even as James kisses his cheek, and his hands itch closer Sirius’ cock.  Sirius grabs the hands to stop him from actually getting there.  “James, we’ve had one date.”

      James opens his mouth to counter before shutting it, again.  

      Clearly, James isn’t going the traditional route with the two of them.  Thus, Sirius is going to have to push that route.  

      “Why don’t we do this?  We’ll go on another date and see each other outside of the house.” Sirius smiles, “Don’t you want to enjoy another drive down the coast?  We could go hiking, have a picnic, and just spend some time outside – it’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed nature.”

      James looks down at their hands, and then Sirius’ lips.  “Sounds perfect, when?”

      “Saturday,” Sirius grins.  “Spencer and Evan offered to let Harry play at their house.”

      “It’s a date,” James grins, giving him a kiss.

      Sirius smiles.  “Yes, it is.”

[skellebonez]

So apparently in JTTW, Baije kept trying to get the monk to say the thing that would activate the torture headband? According to a post I just saw anyway. So I'd like to prompt something where Monkie Kid era Monkey King and Pigsy are arguing, and Monkey King brings that up, because it's kind of /messed up/. Preferably with prompts 25 or 47 because those seem vaguely fluffy and I don't want it to end /sad/ plz?

There are multiple times in the book (though it happened more often early on) where Zhu Bajie took full advantage of how much Tripitaka trusted him and made Wukong’s day miserable because of it, he isn’t the middle brother for nothing! The two have a better relationship as the book goes on, but as an eldest sibling I can tell you... even if you're on good terms later, sometimes you still remember the ways they used to mess with you... also I went overboard. Very overboard. This is really long.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me…!"/ “Tell me what you want me to do."

Things had been going so well... at least as well as could be expected given they had only really seen each other twice after 500 years of Sun Wukong vanishing.

Their first meeting, their initial reunion, wasn't so much a meeting and more "hey I'm here to help MK fight because things are actually really bad and I totally don't already know who two of you are" and then lots of saving the world without the time to talk to or call out his once elder brother before he ran off. Their second meeting was not long after, Wukong coming to check up on MK at the shop and "oh yeah uh I kinda know your boss Bud". Which. Nice job revealing his secret Wukong.

That was a very interesting conversation, explaining to MK that he was indeed The Zhu Bajie from the stories and yes Tang knew and no only Tang knew and no he did not want to talk about why this was kept secret. Then it devolved into MK insisting the two of them needed to hang out together and then questions about Sandy and then how it was so cool that his dad was friends with his mentor. The at first befuddled and then completely shocked expression on Wukong's face as he finally put two and two together made agreeing to MK's insistence so much easier.

Easier than being pogo'd to Flower Fruit Mountain and then being stuck there as MK ran off to do "hero stuff" with Mei, anyway. At first it was awkward, being shown around the mountain by a man who he had spent years of his life with and was clearly trying to not look uncomfortable at the time lost between them.

Then the monkeys attacked. Well. Less attacked, more jumped on Pigsy in sheer excitement. It only took a few seconds for Wukong to cackle and pull them off him with the care of a roughhouseing father. Some of them were just little ones barely new to the world (he didn't miss how much more careful Wukong was with them), but Pigsy recognized a few of the elder ones from the time he had come here to bring Wukong back after the... WBS and Wood Wolf... event.

He also didn't expect any of them to actually remember him or to see Wukong acting so positively parental in comparison to how he acted the last time he was here. It was strange, he knew the Monkey King could be caring and that he had changed on their journey and must have become different over their time apart, but this was a side he had never truely thought he would see from him ever before. And he couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that.

It was like a tension line was finally let slack. They didn't simply slide back into banter, but they were much more relaxed. Wukong pointed out where he had been training MK, showed him to where his house stood (Pigsy wondered if he ever tried to rebuild the palace that had burnt down long before he visited all those years ago, but did not dare to bring that up either). The house was much more modern than he had expected, even having full internet access and TV and a kitchen.

He would never tell anyone about the passionate 1 hour conversation they had about cooking when he realized Wukong picked it up as a hobby. No one will ever know their debate/rant on how to properly prepare dough for steaming and how so many people do it wrong.

At some point they ate a lunch Wukong had prepared, much better than Pigsy expected, and that's probably when it went downhill.

He'd made an offhanded joke about people who use too much seasoning. Wukong joked back, asking if his underseasoned cooking was up to Pigsy's standards. Pigsy had shoved the monkey on old reflex, not hard and not nearly enough to move him, saying if he wanted him to compliment his cooking he could have just asked like a good big brother.

That had started a friendly wrestling match, not unlike ones they had had before and that drew a crowed of monkeys excited to watch. That wrestling match turned more violent before Pigsy had realized it and somehow, some way, they started actually fighting. He yelled about how Wukong had no right to just make MK his sucessor. Wukong yelled about how he chose MK because he was the most qualified and capable person he found. Pigsy shot back that he barely knew him before training him and if he had even bothered to try knowing him he would have known he was Pigsy's kid and he was a shitty mentor. Wukong screamed at that, scaring off most of their audience with the volume, picking Pigsy up off the ground entirely with his arms pinned down.

"You take that back right now, Bajie!" Wukong hissed out in a dangerous tone, one Pigsy didn't give a single damn about heeding in his anger.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me...!" Pigsy fought against Wukong's hold, scrambling for any kind of purchase he could get with his feet dangling off the ground.

"Or what, Bajie? What!? Are you going to find another fillet and tell MK the sutra for it this time!? Are you going to make him not trust me like you did Tripitaka!? ARE YOU!?"

The words made Pigsy stop, but it was Wukong's tone that made him try to turn back to look at him. He'd sounded angry before but now he sounded... genuinely upset. Not angry upset. Sad upset. "I wouldn't do that."

"You did before." Damn it. He really was sad upset...

"Yeah... Yeah, I did." Pigsy admitted with only slight hesitation as he looked at the ground beneath him. "I'm sorry. About how I acted back then. I made everything harder than needed. I made Master hurt you and you didn't deserve it. More often than I'd like to admit..." There was a beat of silence before he decided to take a chace with a question that would probably upset Wukong more. But he had to ask. "How... how painful was it?"

The two of them didn't move for a while, Pigsy just hanging limply until Wukong slowly leaned down and set his feet back on ground. His grip losened slighly, but he didn't let Pigsy go as he rested his forehead against the back of Pigsy's head with a sigh. "Very. Very painful. It... the way it... Bajie, I don't want to-"

"You don't have to," Pigsy interrupted, raising one of his arms now that he could move to grab and squeeze his wrist. "If 'very' is all you want to say, I get it. I'm sorry."

"You already said that."

"And I'll say it again because I mean it." Pigsy pulled away, Wukong’s grip weakened enough for him to without even the smallest fight, and turned around to face him.

He reached up, Wukong giving him an odd confused look as he placed his hands over and around his forehead. Realization dawned quickly and he tensed as Pigsy felt the almost imperceptible scars hidden under his well groomed fur. For the band to have been impactful enough to leave marks at all, let alone after all this time... some didn't feel like cuts or stretches, more like burns almost.

"I'm sorry too," Wukong said suddenly. "For being an ass. I wasn't exactly the greatest travel companion myself at times. And for... for disappearing."

"I already forgave ya for the stuff on the journey long ago," Pigsy said as he pulled his hands back and crossed his arms. "Couldn't sit right with myself if I held a grudge for what you did after the shit I pulled. But I appreciate the apology for up and vanishing. And uh, I'm sorry for calling you a shitty mentor."

"You better be!" Wukong chuckled, standing up straight with an awkward crooked smile. "But, you know, I could stand to be a better teacher. You weren't wrong when I said I don’t know enough about MK."

"I could tell you a few things," Pigsy offered. "Nothing personal, just like how we met and what his job is like. To make up for the. Everything."

"Hmn..." Wukong made a point to rub his chin in thought, clearly about to do something Pigsy wondered if they would both regret. "On one condition."

"Tell me what you want me to do," Pigsy sighed out, fully resigned for whatever the Monkey King was going to ask.

"Cook me dinner."

... that... was not what he expected at all. "That's it?"

"That's it!"

That wasn't near enough to make up for anything in Pigsy's mind... but if that’s what Wukong wanted he supposed that was a start.

[synnefo-nefeli]

I really love the scene in Heard Your Heart Beating when Apollo and Klavier sleep after drinking and Apollo wakes up at some point and looks at Klavier and thinks about him and Daryan and Kristoph. Idk I really like the vibe of it and also Apollo is really fond of him and you can see it lol

This is for the DVD Commentary Author Ask if there is a scene from any of my works you’d like to see a DVD commentary on, send me an ask!

Yesss this one of my favorite scenes so far in HYHB.

So there are two things going on in this scene- one is a payoff moment when Apollo figures out the significance of Valentine's Day is to Klavier, and the other is the emergence of the theme of " Safety". This chapter also functions as a transition point from Klavier and Apollo moving from work colleagues into a closer friendship. There is still a giddy nervousness at the beginning of this chapter that is usually associated with moving to the next step.

I wanted to express that almost frenetic nervous energy when inviting a new friend/date/etc into your personal space for the first time. And Apollo, despite him stating repeatedly that the hangout is platonic/feeling guilty about appearing to move on from Clay /trying to keep that boundary that’s existed so far between them, allows that boundary to fall.

By the end of the chapter there is now a comfort and deeper trust between them so that their relationship can continue to develope organically over the next few chapters without Apollo being constantly flustered every time Klavier teases him or there still being awkward feelings between them. They’re still in the “getting to know you” phase of their friendship but they’re at the point where coffee breaks and after work drinks no longer suffice. They now want to hang out as much as possible.

More under the cut so I don't spoil people for this chapter

Before I get back into the Safety theme I want to reiterate the meaning of the story’s title. It comes from Florence + The Machine’s song, “Cosmic Love”. The lyric goes:

“ I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too-So I stayed in the darkness with you”

This lyric aside from Comic Love being a big mood inspiration for the story, this lyric refers to Klavier and Apollo finding eachother after going through a really shitty and traumatic year and a half.

They recognize that the other is a source of some comfort as each of them understand what the other is going through a little bit better than the others around them.

This scene is the first confirmation to the reader that yes, Klavier is actively seeking out Apollo for comfort.

So far in this story we know *something* is bothering Klavier- he’s actively avoiding someone and he’s been kinda timid in reaching out to people without having his glimmerous persona constantly on. In the following chapter, Klavier mentions that he’s been asked to be in Edgeworth’s wedding.

Apollo attempts to commiserate with Klavier about this as Phoenix has just asked Apollo to be his best man.

Klavier tells Apollo that Apollo shouldn’t be shocked about being asked to be Phoenix’s best man- considering how much Apollo means to Phoenix. He has to point out to Apollo how much Apollo means to Phoenix and Trucy as well as how Apollo impacted Klavier’s choice to return to the legal world full-time.

And while Klavier is honored that he’s been asked by Edgeworth, his being asked is more of a surprise than Apollo being included in the Wright-Edgeworth nuptials. There is no way that Apollo wouldn’t be included after all he’s done for Phoenix and Trucy and how close he is to the WAA. Klavier had a different dynamic with Edgeworth. Part of this because, well, it’s Edgeworth. But Edgeworth has formed close bonds with Gumshoe and Kay...but Edgeworth just spent the last few years chasing down a Phantom Criminal in order to save Simon from Death Row. So Miles and Simon had a closer dynamic.

Klavier unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage-most of it being from things beyond his control. It was his debut that resulted in Miles’ partner from being disbarred and disgraced. There is everything with Kristoph. Combine the canon stuff along with this story establishing that the Gavins and the von Karmas have a bit of a family feud going on, it’s no wonder why Klavier admits to feeling that he’s still needs to figure out if and where he belongs.

He’s always looked up to Phoenix and Miles and wants to spend his career under them, but he thinks he needs more chances to prove himself to rebuild trust.

Of course- the obvious signal Klavier is missing, is “Hi, the Chief Prosecutor has asked you to be in his wedding party. If the grooms didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have been invited let alone asked to be IN THEIR WEDDING PARTY” ...and he misses it right after he’s finished telling Apollo, “how could youthink you’d wouldn’t be included, Herr Forehead. Jeeze.”

Like I said- Klavier is shit at taking his own advice. I’m not being mean to Klavier, but because Klavier is anxious about trusting people and letting people in, he prefers to do things on his own terms and under his control just in case he needs to get out if he gets rejected.

And even though he reached out to Apollo first with his condolences for Clay’s death he didn’t expect anything more than a thank you note, but Apollo not only acknowledging him, hunting him down to his apartment and even offering his company to Klavier, was a happy surprise to someone who has been very lonely.

He’s been wanting to get to know Apollo but he’s felt awkward due to the fallout with Kristoph and the continuing dark age of the law of which he was apart of the two major catalysts.

Apollo over the last few weeks is appearing to be a safe space for Klavier.

However Klavier wants more confirmation and a chance to suss things out (re: Kristoph). So when Apollo says he doesn’t have plans and was oblivious about Valentine’s, Klavier pounces on it. He spent Valentine’s alone the previous year and it spiraled his depression so he was not in the mood to again this year.

This scene was meant to be that very comfortable state between two people with a budding friendship. Once you get drunk with someone while having deep conversations, it tends to push you more into the friendship category.

It was also important to get some of the serious topics out rather than dragging it out. Having this quiet evening is something they both needed, and it allowed them be vulnerable. Especially since Apollo was already upset from the phone conversation he had with the Terrans earlier in the chapter.

Apollo needed a night in with the only person who has never treated him with kid gloves, even before Clay’s death. And Klavier needed a night in with the only person who has never put him on a pedestal.

When discussing Kristoph, it was important to remind the reader that Kristoph is a human being- it’s what makes him a compelling villain and why his betrayal of both Apollo and Klavier’s trust strikes an emotional chord with the player. Before the events of AA4, there was a time where Kristoph gained Apollo and Klavier’s love and loyalty, where he was a normal boss, a dog-dad, a good older brother. There were good times and happy memories- which is why when Kristoph is exposed, Apollo and Klavier are disillusioned- Klavier moreso. But another reason as to why Klavier finds Apollo to be a safe haven, is because, Apollo knew the Kristoph Klavier loved. They both wanted Kristoph to be proud of them. They respected him and wanted Kristoph to be proud of and acknowledge them.

Klavier has been wanting to talk to Apollo about this for awhile and I believe so has Apollo. Apollo is never going to say to Phoenix, “hey Mr. Wright, Mr. Gavin was a good mentor to me too-“ it wouldn’t go over well, even though Kristoph was a good mentor to Apollo-his only flaw was thinking that Apollo would happily be a lickspittle and easy to manipulate. So when Apollo gives Klavier that reassurance that Klavier can talk about those happier moments of his life involving Kristoph, Klavier sees that Apollo wants to take that awkward stress away from Klavier but also Apollo wants to get to know Klavier better.

Klavier is so used to people researching his celebrity persona and forming opinions based off of his former lifestyle, that it’s refreshing to find someone who wants to organically grow their relationship without preconceptions.

Yes, Apollo initially wrote Klavier off as being a fop and glimmorous- but those thoughts were due to Apollo being self-conscious. By the end of Turnabout Serenade, Apollo admits that Klavier is pretty cool and in DD, Apollo remarks that Klavier is different than most prosecutors and how dedicated Klavier is towards his job.

It was also important in this chapter to allow for Apollo to discuss Clay and his relationship with Clay’s family. You’ll notice in this story that Klavier is the only person Apollo will share anecdotes about Clay with and freely grieve about Clay. It’s not that Apollo hides it from The WAA, he does share some things with them, but right now, Klavier is the only close peer Apollo has, and this comfortable vulnerability they’ve trusted eachother with allows Apollo to express himself with out him fearing that he’ll appear fragile. He’s tired of people walking on eggshells around him, but Klavier hasn’t and never will.

Likewise, I made sure to have Klavier fish for information about Apollo. Yes they’ve been hanging out for weeks at this point and worked a case together (sorta), but those coffee dates have been more talking about work, general topics like Trucy’s shows, etc.. they’ve been light in topic. So dinner and drinks at someone’s home gives way to deeper conversations about value-systems, love lives (even though Apollo isn’t entirely truthful lol), etc. And it works really well to the point they get more comfortable than either had anticipated.

I loved writing the discussion about how Klavier will never ever do a performance of “The Guitar’s Serenade” where he’s singing Lamiror’s words. It was such an organic moment while writing too- Klavier just started talking about how he’s feel like an imposter to sing those words because he’s never experienced a lost true love...and he hopes that he’ll never know what that feels like. It’s an honest moment that puts to rest any assumptions Apollo may have had about if Klavier is just a flirt not to be taken seriously in the romance department.

Hearing that Klavier is pretty private in his love life, isn’t a player, and has pretty much admitted that he tries to date with the intention of marriage, shows Apollo more into Klavier’s serious and introspective side. A side that Apollo’s only known in the context of their work. It makes Apollo realize that Klavier is human and is wanting of things like love and companionship. More importantly, Klavier will take those things seriously should he be so lucky to receive them.

There is also a bit of humor here- because c’mon Klavier lives to be playful when he can, and he wants to know more about Apollo’s views on love and relationships. Apollo is adorably flustered because he doesn’t want to admit he’s still a virgin. But in this portion I wanted to start laying down the idea that Apollo is demisexual. Part of the reason he hasn’t fallen in love or felt desire is because he’s fullfilled by his relationships with those he holds dear, but also no one has been interested in Apollo and stayed long enough to bond with Apollo in a way for desire to to bloom.

Because they’re starting as friends-particularly a friendship made as adults- this is going to give Apollo that chance to realize he wants more from Klavier. And for Klavier who wants a true friend and companion after the betrayals he’s suffered, Apollo is a perfect match for him.

The most important thing for me while writing this scene was to show Apollo and the reader that Klavier is suffering and grieving just like Apollo is, (and to establish early that Klavier is super bad at taking any of his own advice) and for Apollo to start drawing parallels to himself while wanting to dig into what’s going on with Klavier.

Apollo is interesting because he’s more likely to say what’s exactly bothering him but fails to realize his feelings about others.

Whereas Klavier is very aware of his own feelings but will hide what’s bothering him from others.

They’re also two people who now need reassurance about where they fit in and how others consider them in their lives.

And if you were wondering: yes, at this point Klavier does have a crush on Apollo haha. So getting invited to sleep over was a bonus for him...despite it being labeled as a “platonic sleep-over”, because at this point in the story, it is a platonic sleep over. Klavier is good at reading the room (even when drunk) to know that Apollo isn’t making a move on him and neither should he.

The comment Klavier makes about Apollo’s bed’s size is a homage to my favorite BL manga, FAKE. In the manga, Ryo who has just started as a detective at a new precinct and met his new partner, Dee- has Dee over that same day for dinner and Dee winds up staying the night. Ryo has a large bed for a single guy (according to Dee) and Dee makes a comment “that’s a big bed you got there, do you have a girl to go with it?” because Dee the little shit that he is, is trying to see if Ryo is single (and yes, they sleep in the same bed that night. How is that fir team building haha...it’s totally platonic. It takes Dee 7 volumes to get that. Please read it it’s a classic). Klavier is totally asking to get a rise out of Apollo because Klavier suspects that Apollo exaggerated his experience because Apollo’s pivot was not smooth at all XD.

Finally the last aspect of showing safety is them sleeping in the same bed together. We know from descriptions of Klavier that Klavier has not been sleeping well. Something is keeping him up at night and his mood has been less glimmerous. When he arrives at Apollo’s that evening; he wasn’t able to really conceal the dark circles under his eyes. Apollo has been missing Clay, who would usually sleep over and share the bed with Apollo,’s company.

Sleeping next to someone, especially falling into a deep sleep in a bed that is not your own, is a sign of trust. Yes they were sleepy from the alcohol, but they went to bed together easily, slept for hours, had brunch, and went BACK to sleep. Neither minded, nor did Klavier feel that he should leave after they ate. They are comfortable and too hungover to even think about anything except getting more sleep XD Also it’s not as if Klavier is in a hurry to get home when he eventually saw the text from his land lady.

Sorry if that was a rambling response but I have a lot of love for this scene in particularly and I’m so excited to give a behind the scenes look at it!

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

viper jaskier AU teaser

Did you want to read a bit of the setup for my Viper!Jaskier AU? well how about a lovely chunk of the first chapter to tide you over! That sounds like fun, right?

It is not out of edits yet technically, and it is not the entire chapter and I have cut out significant chunks of content so it remains new when I put it on AO3, but I am very proud of it. Please let me know what you think?

------------

Jaskier had, perhaps, been a bit too rash in storming down the mountain after the dragon hunt, effectively removing himself from Geralt’s life. Geralt from his life. Whichever way you cut it, they aren’t going to be travelling together anymore and… and good riddance, frankly.

Jaskier spent two decades as a stand-in for someone else, and he had borne it for the love of that fucking man, despite what little good sense he had. And in return he gets told off for having the audacity to try to cheer Geralt up after whatever happened with Yen that left him in such a foul and hateful temper? Oh yes, how dare he care about his friend – certainly that deserves sharp words about knowing when to shut up.

It was better than being alone, with the gaping ache in his chest as he tried to find his way to something that would fill the empty loneliness, that he'd felt every time he was without Geralt. But he’s done. He’s washed his hands of Geralt of fucking Rivia, and he’s glad of it.

Except that he’s not. Not really. Jaskier is in the next town down a random road, out of the town Roach had been stabled in at the bottom of the mountain, and his chest aches and aches and aches, the way it did before he met Geralt, the way it did every time they were apart. When he met Geralt it was a revelation how well he could fill that emptiness, and he stayed with the man for twenty years. Twenty. Years. Despite the harsh words. Despite the way he sometimes heard Jaskier and looked as if he’d just eaten a lemon. Despite the fact that Jaskier knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the witcher tolerated Jaskier because of someone he'd already fucking lost.. And then after Jaskier finally lost his patience with it and told Geralt as much, he had the audacity to try to claim that he’d let Jaskier stay for his own sake.

Which, frankly, was bullshit, and Jaskier knows it.

Which is why he is here, two weeks later, in this shit town, spending the last of his coin on another bottle of some sort of local liquor. It tastes like shit, but it gets you completely drunk, which is a good state to be in for the shit songs he’s writing and will never perform.

He says

It’s you and always you

I say

You never really saw me

Jaskier hums a bit, tucked into a table in the far corner of the tavern after having been booed into ending his attempted performance, trying to fit the scrawled (nearly illegible) lyrics to some kind of melody, and takes another swig of the bottle next to his journal. “Nah, that’s shit,” he mutters to himself, and scribbles it out loosely.

Maybe it should be a song that blames himself. He’s the one that turned it into a goddamn argument, after all. Geralt had snapped at him how many times, and he’d never taken it personally, but this time somehow was too much? Especially when Geralt was… already upset. He’s not sure what happened between Geralt and Yennefer, but he knows something happened, something not good, and yet he still pushed, and took it personally when Geralt didn’t respond well. Of course Geralt didn’t respond well.

Honestly, Jaskier only had himself to blame for being alone, after all that.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks he’s been drunk off his ass and written a complete load of maudlin and frankly idiotic shite. He passes out at the table eventually, face planted into his journal and liquor bottle emptied down to the dregs.

The tavern owner apparently thought it best to let him sleep it off, because it's not until morning that Jaskier's roughly shaken awake and told in no uncertain terms to get out, and that his bardic services won't be needed again. Jaskier doesn't blame him; can’t keep a bard on hand if he largely sings depressing songs, he supposes. 

He starts walking out of town, hoping he actually has all his things, and decides to take stock, even if he's still a bit wobbly. He has his lute, his bedroll, a silver dagger Geralt gave him once "for emergencies", and his bag that mostly just has a change of clothes that probably needs washing pretty badly. A quick subtle smell test (which frankly, Jaskier realizes didn't need to be subtle, as there's no one on the road with him, but old habits and all) verifies that he does absolutely need a bath before he does anything else.

Right.

Geralt is gone. Jaskier has left Geralt. Geralt and Jaskier are no longer... whatever they were. Friends? It seems shallow to call them friends, but they weren't anything else. And maybe the leaving was his fault - Geralt was angry, and upset, and Jaskier knows probably better than anyone how much Geralt doesn't know how to handle strong emotions. Maybe Jaskier shouldn't have left. But he did leave.

They're done.

Geralt is gone.

Jaskier is alone.

It's an awful feeling, being alone, but Jaskier spent twenty years imperfectly filling a role someone else had filled before Geralt ever met him. Trying to fill a hole in Geralt's heart the way Geralt filled a hole in his. The problem is the shape of it: Jaskier's loneliness is broad and overwhelming and he's dealt with it as long as he can remember. Geralt's is shaped like a specific person.

And Jaskier is forty-two. He's too old to trail after a man with no interest in him like a lost puppy. He's too old to keep trying to wedge himself into a place he doesn't fit into, just so he won't feel lonely. He's too old to sit around for weeks crying over a broken heart he saw coming almost two decades ago; too old to be drinking himself to oblivion, and playing nothing but heartbreaking songs. He has the rest of his life to live.

So, metaphorically at any rate, he picks himself out of the dirt, dusts himself off, and keeps moving. He's still living, even if the life he'd built is in ruins, so now he rebuilds it.

[...]

It's been almost two years since leaving Geralt when he runs into the mage in Temeria.

He's played quiet inns and taverns before, and the key to those is generally to work at various familiar and relatively low-key songs until the audience responds, and work from there. But in this town, they seem to not want to engage, and he only plays for about an hour before he gives up, and asks for a meal and some ale.

"I wish you'd played longer," a man says, sitting down across from Jaskier. "You have a beautiful voice."

Jaskier glanced up at him, and considered what might be happening. The man was a bit older than him by all accounts, greying black hair and moderately attractive; his clothes weren't fancy silks or anything, but they looked finely-woven and well-fitted. And there was something about his eyes that set Jaskier on edge.

"Mmm," he said, something clenching nervously in his stomach. "No offence," he says lightly, with effort, "but I have a policy not to fuck mages. Professional courtesy and personal preference. You understand."

"I'm a bit disappointed on principle," the man says, with a hesitant smile. "But no, that's not why I wished to speak to you, Jaskier." 

Jaskier is almost more terrified by that than by the compliment. "I don't know where Geralt of Rivia is, either," he says, trying not to let any panic into his voice and failing miserably. "Haven't seen him in years, actually."

"My name is Doran," the man says gently. "I am a mage, though I'm mostly removed from the politics of the Brotherhood. And I'm not here to hurt you or ply you for information."

"Really?" Jaskier asks, dubious and still rather terrified, if he's being honest. "Not to be rude, but given my experience with magical personages, that seems highly unlikely."

Doran doesn't seem phased, though, and just leans forward. "You've a curse on you, bard. It seems rather nasty, and I... wanted to make sure you knew, I suppose."

Well. That certainly got Jaskier's attention quickly, and he freezes for a moment, his heart clenched. "A curse?"

"A curse," Doran verifies, nodding. "A strong one, too, as far as I can tell. Did you anger a wizard recently?"

Jaskier's pretty sure he hasn't, but he wracks his brain anyway, thinking back and trying to think of any magic users other than Yennefer that he might've pissed off enough to have a strong curse on him that he somehow doesn't know about.

"I... mildly irritated a sorceress nearly two years ago," he offers. "But I'm relatively certain she was much angrier at someone else. We have history, the irritation was mutual. Actually, I was off my game; I was probably more irritated than she was." He's starting to get jittery, turning moments over in his mind, turning himself over in his mind. 

"I doubt that would've been the source then, even for a touchy mage," Doran says thoughtfully. "Casting this curse would've taken a fair amount of effort." Jaskier's food and drink arrive, and he stares blankly down at his stew, his stomach souring. No, definitely not in the mood to eat anymore, and he pushes the bowl to the side.

[...]

"I should put this up in my room, if that's all right?" Doran nods his agreement, and Jaskier heads upstairs to stash his lute safely in his locked room. He pauses before going back downstairs, rests his forehead against the door, and takes a moment to breathe.

He's cursed, with a powerful and unknown curse, that could take effect at any moment, that he'd received at some unknown point in time, and if anything happens to him, Geralt will almost certainly never find out. Jaskier can't even be melodramatic and leave a letter for Geralt, because there isn't anywhere to send it. And it doesn't escape his notice that even now, with the spectre of something awful hanging over him, two years after he'd walked away, the only person he can think of is Geralt.

"Fuck," he whispers into the empty room. "Geralt, I swear to Melitele if this kills me, you'd better find out and grieve me like you were grieving your damn ghost for twenty years."

Then he takes a deep breath, straightens his back, and exits the room.

[...]

Jaskier sits on the cot and folds his hands in his lap to keep himself from fidgeting absently with any of the bottles or dried herbs within reach, like he would when he was six and fifteen and twenty-seven and now forty-four, and he waits.

"I'm making a tea that helps keep my magic focused," Doran says as he uses a small bit of magic to heat the water and herbal mixture he'd made. "Not something I need assistance with, generally speaking, but it will lessen the effort it takes to do, so I can focus my efforts on finding the shape of your curse and how to unwind it."

"That's fair," Jaskier says, jiggling his leg. Now that they were here and talking about magic and curses again, the calm he'd felt from the familiar movements and attitude has melted away entirely, like a chunk of snow on a burning log. "I can't imagine it's particularly easy. Seeing as how it's made of chaos and everything. Does that mean it's against its nature to be focused? I rather imagine it's a bit like my mind most days," he's trailed off into talking to himself, but Doran's standing in front of him holding an empty cup and smiling faintly. 

"I don't doubt it's similar, you seem to be rather chaotic yourself," Doran says, and puts the cup down, pulling a stool over so they're sitting facing each other. "Now, this shouldn't hurt, or feel like much of anything. I'm just looking for the magic of the curse, to try to see when it will activate and what it will do. All right?"

Jaskier lets out an anxious breath and squeezes his hands together tighter, then nods jerkily. It will be fine. And if it isn't, then he'll consider trying to find Yennefer. Doran reaches out and puts his fingers on either side of Jaskier's head. 

And nothing happens. Or, at least, nothing happens from Jaskier's point of view. He can feel this... flutter, almost, at the edge of his thoughts, that he's pretty sure must be Doran's magic, but other than that it's rather uneventful and anticlimactic. So he keeps still for a few excruciatingly long minutes before Doran opens his eyes and lowers his hands, looking solemn.

"Well, that can't be good," Jaskier says, trying weakly for levity and not managing it.

"It's some sort of transformation curse," Doran explains, sitting back on the stool for a moment. Jaskier's fingers flutter against the backs of his hands as he keeps them folded in his lap. "A very strong one. And it was set in place long enough ago that I can't see any part of you that isn't touched by it."

Jaskier's fidgeting stills, and his eyes narrow. "Wait. You mean it's a curse that's been waiting to take effect since I was a child?" 

"It's a curse that's already taken effect since you were a child, by all appearances," Doran corrects. "Whatever the transformation is, you've been living it since before you can remember."

Well. That was more upsetting and complicated than he'd expected.

[...]

He stumbles a few steps away from the door and bends over, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. Faintly he can hear the door close, and a small part of him is grateful that Doran is, if nothing else, polite enough to give him a moment of privacy to try to deal with this.

"Fuck!" he doesn't quite shout, and pushes himself upright, still trying to breathe evenly, so he can pace. "Fuck. Shitting tits, I..." Okay. He needs to not just curse. He needs to think this out, the best way he's ever known how.

"Right, Geralt," he says to no one, to the memory of his best friend for two decades who could barely stand him most of the time. "It seems that I've run into a bigger spot of bother than I thought, and I've been cursed since infancy. A transformation curse, no less, and no idea how it's changed me!"

Hmm, says the voice in the back of his mind, that he's so glad isn't here and wishes were here so badly he aches. It's thoughtful and concerned and definitely paying actual attention, rather than grunting assent while not hearing a word he says. Jaskier can— could tell the difference. Can imagine it.

"I suppose it could be something lovely," he says. "Secret heir to a throne somewhere. Or it could be worse, it's probably worse. Probably had some sort of horrible deformity and my parents were so mortified they cursed me to make me look normal enough for their perfectionistic standards." Maybe it's childish to let that much bitterness seep out in his tone, even if he's not talking to anyone but himself.

Could be, his imaginary Geralt says in this imaginary conversation he's having, and Melitele's tits, he can't even have an imaginary Geralt that is more conversational? But no, he can't, because he knows Geralt too damn well for a chattier Geralt to feel at all realistic. Damn the man.

"Whatever it is, it will change the way I exist," Jaskier continues, to the night air and a memory. "If it's from before I can remember, then it's..." his frantic pacing slows to a stop and his heart stutters. "What if I can't play anymore, Geralt?" he whispers. "What if I can't sing?"

His imaginary Geralt is silent.

But his own mind is not, it never ever is. If he can't play and he can't sing and he has more of his heart torn out of him... he will find a way to dust himself off and keep moving. He always has. He always will. If he stops, he'll drown himself, or find a dangerous lover, or try to help someone he has no business helping. And then he'll burn out the way part of him has been trying to do since he left Oxenfurt that first time at eighteen.

He's Julian Pankratz. He's Jaskier, the greatest bard the continent's ever known. He will survive and thrive after whatever this curse can throw at him.

"Right," he says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Okay."

[...]

:3 (I believe @brothebro, @wingedquill, and @storyinmypocket​ at the least will be interested in this!)

[crimefightingpigeons]

I’ve shared my head canon on how we go from Doomsday to Turn Left - your turn! What do you think happens??  - @loupettes

Welp i can confidently say it has been well over a week... but here is part 2 of my Dimension Cannon Rose story! Enjoy! 

part 1 A Brief Guide to Love and Defending the Universe 

2.

Once the realization of what was going on had sunk in, the real work began. Or at least the endless meetings did. Because even the immanent end of the world—no, wait, universe—no wait again, multiverse— was no match for a bloody meeting. But with everyone having their own opinion and no way of knowing who was right, things were getting out of hand.  

After extreme amounts of shouting, fighting, and overall chaos, though, a consensus was reached. They had determined the cause of this problem was happening in another world, so those people, that Torchwood, could deal with that. This Torchwood was going to put all its efforts into sealing off the trouble and keeping themselves safe. But Rose and Mickey knew better, and that night they went back to her flat to continue on.

“Can’t we just rebuild those jump devices?” Rose tried.

“I don’t know if those’d even work now with the void gone. ‘Sides everything from that got destroyed, would take us years to get it back to anything able to work,” Mickey refuted. Then trying himself, “what about time travel? What if we got somethin’ workin’ that could take us back to that day on the beach and at least warn the Doctor then?”

“We can’t cross our own timelines, Mickey, trust me, it’d only make things worse.”

After a night of going over and over through previously rejected and other seemingly impossible plans, the pair were ready to give in. But just in that moment, Rose got a call from Pete telling her to come over to the mansion with Mickey.

- - -

Pete Tyler, much to no one’s surprise, was not a stupid man. So when he noticed Rose’s change in attitude all those months ago, and saw piles of boxes in her old room through her accidentally cracked open door, and could see just how tired and worn down she (and later on Mickey) had become even through claims of doing nothing outside of work, he knew exactly what was going on. And he had decided to start a project of his own.

In the basement of the Tyler residence was every bit of research and equipment he had stored away and been working on from the dimension jumper project. And when Rose and Mickey saw it, their mouths properly gaped open.

“But I thought…” Mickey barely got out.

“That all this was lost? Being an ex-director of Torchwood has its perks, ya know,” Pete chuckled.

“But why didn’t you tell us about this before?” Rose asked, so completely stunned she wasn’t sure whether to be upset or not.

“I wanted to see if it would work… No use in gettin’ your hopes up if there wasn’t a reason,” he answered directly to Rose, then turning back to Mickey as well, “And then you lot just went off to Torchwood for help, as if that would do you any good! I always told you to come to me first, and I thought you’d have been smart enough to still do that. If you’d only given me another few days you’d never have had to go through all of those twats!”

“Wait so you’re saying it’s… operational?” Mickey walked around the console to investigate a bit further.

“Eh… more like pre-operational. I’ve gotten it to turn back on, but probably not much more. Mind you I haven’t exactly had anyone to test it out—” then turning back to Rose, because he knew exactly what she was about to say, “—and we’re not sending anyone through until we’re as sure as we can be its safe.”

After a brief pause of thought, Rose joined back in. “But without Torchwood, how’re we gonna do this. I mean, this is gonna need a lotta work, and we don’t exactly have the means to get it done all on our own.”

Pete smiled at his daughter. “You leave that to me. Have I mentioned the ex-director thing, yet? Got a handful of favors waitin’ for me all around the world. Figure it’s about time I cash ‘em in.”

- - -

The next year went by in a whirlwind.

Keeping his word, Pete had gathered enough resources by the very next day for the real real work to begin. Rose and Mickey continued going back and forth between work at the mansion and Torchwood with plans of phasing out the latter slowly, so to keep suspicions at bay. And Jake had eagerly joined as the official inside man on all upper level Torchwood dealings. It was exhausting, it was difficult, it was frustrating, it was impossible. But it had to be done.

Out of everyone, Rose was surely the most desperate to succeed. There wasn’t a single work session she missed or even a tiny aspect of the project she wasn’t actively involved in. Even when they were at a stand still, she would refuse to stop. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been home, couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent more than five minutes with Jackie or Tony, couldn’t even remember the last time she’d done anything but work. But none of that mattered. She had a multiverse to save… and a Doctor to get back to.

Half a year in and hundreds of destroyed testing fruits later, success had finally arrived: they were ready for the first stage of human testing on the newly named dimension cannon. Rose was of course the first to volunteer as guinea pig, but Pete and Mickey quickly nixed that. She had been the most brilliant one in the room these past months, and if anything happened to her there was a good chance the project wouldn’t make it to the next stage in time. They considered recruiting a Torchwood grunt, but that idea was pretty much chucked out the same moment it was spoken. In the end, Mickey volunteered to do the job.

Mickey stepped onto the platform, looking down at a solemn Rose. “See you in Hell,” he smiled and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Pete entered the coordinates into the console, the countdown started, the cannon powered up, the bright light filled the room, and with a loud boom, Mickey was gone.

And then he was back! Just a few feet away on the other side of the room.

“Miss me?” he smiled again.

Rose grinned back. Not only was Mickey alright, but the cannon worked! Sure it wasn’t enough to get them outside the basement, let alone the universe, but that wasn’t important right now. Rose’s mind was flooded with pure joy, and she let that feeling glow inside her for one beautiful moment before getting back to work.

With each week that passed by, the cannon was only becoming more successful. A few weeks after their first shift, they could transport themselves to the other side of the world. And a month after that, it could take them to another planet entirely. It was enough to make Rose cry, standing on a new planet once again. She took the few moments she had there to genuinely enjoy the ground beneath her feet. For all their progress, though, they knew it was the next part that would be the hardest. Jumping within your own universe was one thing, but actually getting to another… Again, they were at an impossible impasse. But they kept going.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and all they had to show for it was more scorched tester fruits. And now after so much failure, everyone was starting to get to the end of their ropes. The stars had been going out for some time now, and the world around them was just beginning to decay into madness. According to Jake, even Torchwood was out of real ideas. Rose, Mickey, and Pete knew time was running out sooner rather than later, and that they were everyone’s last hope. It had understandably turned stress levels to high and patience to zero. And that was before they even accounted for their extreme exhaustion.

Then one night, one beautiful night, something finally went right. Rose was the only one in the basement, just tinkering around. And then there was a warm little feeling in the back of her mind telling her to take a chance… so she did. She sent the fruit through the cannon and— it disappeared. But it wasn’t just gone, according to every piece of information the console was spitting out it was in another world! For a moment Rose could only stand there, mouth gaped open. She looked around, ready to celebrate with someone until she remembered she was all alone.

Then, her mind coming back to her, she frantically powered the cannon up again and brought it back. Rose hesitated for just a moment, then moved towards it. She held the pineapple in her hand. It hadn’t exploded or caught fire, its DNA was still perfectly in-tact. It had gone through the cannon and into another universe and then came back completely unscathed! And that was all the proof she needed.

Rose sped back over to the console and started inputting information. Every shift required someone standing by the console to activate the cannon to send the subject off and then reactivate it to bring them back. But Rose had a trick up her sleeve. Near the start of the project, she had secretly installed an automatic pilot protocol, meaning she could send herself off and then the console would automatically bring her back a few minutes later. She knew Pete and Mickey would be upset with her the moment they found out what she’d done, knew it probably wasn’t the smartest decision she’d ever make in her life, but she didn’t care. With one last flip of a switch, she ran over and hopped up onto the platform, closed her eyes, and within one deep breath, she felt the cannon working around her. There was brightness, loud banging, the world shifting all around her and then—

Everything was still. She felt a gentle breeze stroke against her cheek, heard something like squawking in the distance. Rose opened her eyes to a purple sky in a field of tall, fiery red grass. She smiled.

“Doctor, I’m comin’ to get you.”

[bellamygateoldblog]

how do we feel about bellamy abandoning a suicidal octavia in a toxic forest in the name of monty, 'monty gave his life for us so we could have another change, and im not going to let you destroy it' who repeatedly made it clear in his final season that he wished he did more to save jasper

…we don’t feel great about it. Lol.

Got a little carried away. Apparently I had a stronger opinion on this on this than I thought I did.

There’s an LT;DR at the bottom if you don’t feel like reading the whole thing :)

The Blake relationship is a really complicated one. And I think how you see this event in particular depends on how you interpret this dynamic during the rest of the show, and how sympathetic you are towards Octavia as a character.

I want to start with this: the second chance was Monty’s to give, and only Monty’s. Bellamy doesn’t get to dictate who that message does and does not apply to, because Monty made it perfectly clear he holds no grudges, and wants the best for what’s left of the human race regardless of who they’ve been in the past or what they’ve done. That’s the whole point of ‘doing better’. He just wants everyone to do better than they did, whichever way that is. Monty didn’t specifically say ‘oh but not Octavia she can choke’ so therefore Bellamy had no right to be cowering behind Monty’s words.

He’s telling them to try a bit harder to be more understanding, compassionate, and rational. He wants them to choose to be farmers rather than warriors- to rebuild rather than destroy, to grow rather than deforest, to choose peace over war no matter what. It means a lot more than just ‘hey! maybe don’t go on another genocidal rampage?’

And by abandoning/banishing Octavia, Bellamy did the opposite of what Monty wanted. It almost felt, as i was watching, like he’d sentenced her to death. Like Clarke was banishing Murphy all over again. Or like he was Clarke abandoning him to die in the fighting pits. And I don’t know…repeating old mistakes doesn’t exactly scream ‘doing better’ to me.

Maybe this was Bellamy’s way of ridding the toxicity from the group?

But deciding she’s a lost cause and leaving her there, a clearly mentally unstable woman (and not only just some ‘woman’, but the baby sister he’s shared his life with), on an alien planet that none of them even know is safe at this point, or if it’s inhabited with hostile entities, from some moral high horse/manpainTM point of view is so low. It’s unearned at this point in the series.

Our attention was drawn to how hard it was for him. How upset he was after he did it. Rather than to Octavia and how she felt about it. It brought me back to that moment in season five, to how the camera focused in on Clarke’s pained teary-eyed expression while the child she was electrocuting was a blurry spot the background. Just what the fuck? Is all i have to say about that. He was very much Clarke in this moment; pulling a lever, leaving someone he loves on the outside *for the people* and feeling a bit ashamed but justified about it regardless.

She was trying to do the S1 Bellamy thing and stowaway to an alien planet to protect the one she loved. But the emotional fallout of season five was immense and both of them were way too amped up for any of it to go as planned. Which makes me wonder why the writers even attempted it in the first place?

But let’s just take a minute to think about how reckless and borderline insane this whole decision is from Bellamy- this is the girl who started out an illegal child, unwanted by the people she was born into, who assimilated with the indigenous people, earned their respect, found belonging with them until ultimately she became their leader. Like, if you really thought she was this much of a hazard, throwing her adaptive ass into the wilderness ready to meet another set of warrior people maybe isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had?

HOWEVER

I’m not actually opposed to a detail like this. Because of the unhealthy and sometimes poisonous nature of the Blake sibling relationship. And because they both absolutely needed time apart if Octavia were ever to grow out of Blodreina.

No matter what Monty never gave up on Jasper. But Jasper was usually self-destructive and didn’t act out emotionally using violence like how Octavia does so naturally. He could be a pain in Monty’s ass from time-to-time, but Jasper was never a threat to anyone but himself.

Bellamy cast Octavia out because she killed those guards unnecessarily. She hadn’t yet reflected on what became of her, nor had she processed any of the trauma from the bunker and following battle for Eden, in which some of the heaviest casualties were her most important relationships, with Indra, and with Bellamy. As convinient as it was to utilise violence as a tool for maintaining power, law, and order within the bunker…they aren’t in the bunker anymore, and she is no longer someone with a crushing responsibility.

Was any of that Bellamy’s fault? No.

Was it Bellamy’s job to ‘fix’ her? No.

(Do I think Monty would encourage him to mend their relationship anyway after losing his best friend and brother? Yes.)

But as her big brother and psudo-father, someone that spent his entire life protecting and taking care of her, the bare minimum i’d expect from him in a situation like this is for him to show some empathy, listen to the whole story from her point of view rather than basing his entire livelyhood on the biased accounts of a couple of Wonkru defectors, and make an attempt to understand why she is no longer the baby sister he remembers her being. If anyone was in the position to understand her- her behaviour, her mindset, the weight of leadership and how it shapes a person, and the pressure of making potentially morally corrupt decisions to ensure the people’s safety putting your humanity on the line for it- it’s him.

This was just cheap drama in place of where they could’ve written a meaningful conflict between them.

It was an oppurtunity to address Octavia’s past treatment of him, their co-dependence, their mother, Bellamy deeply believing his life was stolen from him and Octavia feeling she never had a chance to begin with, Bellamy’s inclination to make himself smaller so Octavia can take up as much space as she possibly can, both of their perverse insecurities that manifest in equally debilitating ways, Bellamy’s skewed sense of self pushing him to orbit around her, Octavia’s identity issues and lack of socialisation and resulting narrow black-or-white mindset, I could go on and on. There’s so so much content here to explore. There’s so much stress and pain in this relationship. It’s a shame that despite all that they decided to go omg cannibalism!!!!!!!!

Octavia took forever to forgive Bellamy for what happened to Lincoln, she demonised him, she attacked him over it in one of the most grotesque and unhinged displays of violence i’ve ever seen, and that wasn’t even his fault. I think we can afford Bellamy the same amount of room.

If this ‘banishment’ was the long-time-coming storm of past trauma of their intertwined existences that has long since been buried, if the time of physical peace spent on the ring building a family of his own pushed Bellamy to make a realisation or two about love and family, and the stressful draining qualities of his relationship with Octavia began to morph into resentment of her, and all this abandonment is, is just a beautifully crafted, carefully maintained facade collapsing between them, I WOULD LOVE IT. It’s understandable. But I need to see them have it out with each other first. If nothing is addressed, if they still go on carrying those things around and never find closure, not only is that hindering Octavia’s growth, but Bellamy’s, too.

But none of that happened in season six. Instead i got to see yet another female with her autonomy ripped from her and i got to see manpain.

Over time she supressed any parts of herself that would make her appear weak. It was always going to take time to pull herself out of that dark place and find a way to shape an identity that isn’t based in something that can easily be ripped away from her. So removing her from the group to find ‘the self’ is a good choice. But it had to be her choice.

I think if everything had blown up and Octavia had chosen to leave on her own volition because she recognises her own tragedy and calamity and wants to do what’s right, it would’ve been the perfect place to begin a redemption/reflection arc for her. With self-awareness. What do they say? The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one in the first place?

In an answer to another ask I said it would make some sense for Bellamy (and Clarke & Spacekru) to be unintentionally hypocritcal and judgemental considering the time distance between their last violent experience and how long they’ve had to make peace with the past. While Octavia was in the most stressful position she’s ever been in, and right in the thick of things for the six years that everyone else spent healing and maturing in.

So we have Bellamy as his most reassurred, most contented self- and he comes to Earth, he comes face-to-face with an unhinged Octavia, and is overwhelmed immediately with biased and incomplete information recapping the last six years during an erratic situation with enemies. I’d be confused and paranoid, too tf?

Bellamy loves Octavia more than life. But she’s morphed into a woman he no longer recognises and it could even come as a personal betrayal to him. He’s been disconnected from her for six years. He’s no longer intoxicated by his love and devotion to her. And he’s having a hard time accepting that the baby sister he thinks the world of is capable of such cruelty. So he’s having trouble forgiving her for it. I think it makes a lot of sense. Except, again, they never addressed anything like this.

Season five Bellamy I get. I’m sympathetic to him just as I am Octavia.

But in season six he appeared, not like he was acting on years of supressed emotional turmoil, but like he was on some moral high horse looking down on her from it.

The end of season five left things open, and there was a lot of potential there for things between them to improve, but season six took it and threw it out the nearest window. And we saw Octavia crawling on her hands and knees begging for forgiveness from a man that 1) doesn’t want her, 2) doesn’t respect her, 3) refused to listen to her, and 4) only accepted her once she was the woman he wanted her to be, who was now no longer traumatised.

TL;DR: I’m not opposed to the whole idea of them seperating in season six, with Octavia being the castaway, but it should’ve been Octavia’s choice, not Bellamy’s. And I think Monty might be disappointed that this was what (season six) Bellamy took away from his video on ‘doing better’. To ‘do better’ he decided to choose just one person that can represent all the evil that exists within both his people and himself and throw her out the dropship door. Problem solved! But there are many ways in which I think the writers could’ve done a lot more with this idea, and a lot better, too.

[petaldancing]

fic: for all the times i can’t reverse

fandom: pokespe characters: sapphire, ruby summary: ten years later, they strike a new deal read: on AO3 or below

notes: for gret, who gave me the prompt: "don't ignore me" P.S. i haven't finished the ORAS arc, so not sure if this is canon-compliant, P.P.S. for pokemon nicknames, i use chuang yi's translations cause that's what i grew up reading

have i come a long way from 50 frantic ways? *shrug* but i’m still a sucker for these two a literal decade on

----

Over the years, Sapphire has attempted all manner of confession: face-to-face under torrential rain, hand in hand standing before the possible end of the world, foolishly through Gold, a bit more gently through Crys, yelling mid-argument, and then, softly, when there is no one else around but them.

Likewise, Ruby has mastered all tactics of avoidance: pushing her off Pilo’s back, using imminent disaster as distraction, pretending not to hear her, feigning ignorance, keeping his big mouth shut for once .

She does not know when she grows out of this back and forth and stops trying. Maybe it is when she is sixteen or eighteen. She’s twenty-one now, and looking back at the last few years, her friendship with Ruby has improved. They still argue, but it’s less these days. (Emerald would be proud of ‘em, if he bothered to step out of his lab to notice.) Their fights are no longer about unrequited feelings or ten-year old love confessions. It’s more like: which way to go when they’ve gotten lost, or how her new clothes aren’t colour-coordinated, stuff that they can laugh about, stuff that can be either ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. You can’t really do that with feelings.

Part of why they fight less is because they talk less too. The Petalburg Gym is always expecting new challengers and she hasn’t had a break since she took over Norman three years ago. Having this job takes her mind off nagging thoughts, pushes her to keep training, adapting to new trainers and their partner pokemon visiting from regions she’s never had the luxury to travel to. On the rare afternoons she can afford to leave the gym early, she treks through the lush forests encircling the city, retracing the steps of her childhood backyard.

As she walks with Toro, she thinks about new strategies, designs for the gym, what she’ll have for dinner, and on days she passes by her old Secret Base—Ruby. Unlike the past, when the thought of him would make her scowl, now it is more often accompanied by a sigh, maybe a sheepish grin if she is in a good mood. It’s not just because she’s mellowed a bit since her anxious teenage days. It’s because he’d spent a lot of effort on the old Secret Base, dolling it up and even adding a tent with pillows inside for her in case she spent a night in the forest. “Though I’ll never understand why anyone would want to,” he’d sneer, as if begging to start another fight.

Now, he’s always in Lilycove judging those Pokemon Contests. But once a month, she’ll receive a parcel from him with something fancy to clip in her hair and this particular brand of Pokemon food that Toro and the rest like to eat. It’s shipped in from Kanto, and Lilycove is the cheapest place to get it. Usually Ruby includes a hurried note like “Mimi’s gotten even prettier” or “I found the perfect fabric today” or “I’ll visit soon”, though the third time she receives this particular sign off, Sapphire takes it with a grain of salt.  

She hasn’t been to the old base in awhile, but today is special. She weaves through the twisty paths of the woods until the leaves open up to the entrance of the long abandoned Secret Base. The sound of dry leaves and twigs crunches under the soles of her boots. All the memories she and Ruby made here, it’d been before they got proper jobs and stopped hanging out, before they cleared out the entire base, before she gave up on him replying her confessions.

She remembers stumbling into the base after getting into a nasty fight with a group of territorial Mightyena, and how Ruby brandished a first aid kit and stitched the deepest cut up. And the other time, when he surprised her with a cake on her birthday and didn’t get too upset when she couldn’t resist smashing a slice into his face. And the time when they both fell asleep waiting for the rain to stop, and she dreamt that he’d touched her cheek and whispered something she couldn’t hear. And, the very first time they met—their 80-day bet. So many things changed in the span of those 80 days.

Sapphire double checks the date on her PokeNav. Ten years ago on this day, she swung from a vine and saved a helpless Ruby. Ten years ago, she reunited with the little, fierce boy who saved her when she’d been helpless.

In the middle of this tranquil forest, Sapphire shuts her eyes and feels the warm sunlight on her skin. How much has changed the past decade? She’s proven her worth as a gym leader, she’s met and learned from so many other Dex Holders and pokemon masters, she’s become a braver and wiser person. So what if the only thing that she hasn’t gotten better at is dealing with Ruby? So what if she can’t help but come back to this sentimental spot even though she should’ve grown up and moved on by now?

Just then, she hears a rustle from inside the Secret Base.

Toro readies its fists as Sapphire jumps back and lands on all fours. “Who’s there? Come out!” she growls at the darkness.

“Easy. It’s just me.”

Toro lowers its talons and squawks, immediately recognising the voice.

Ruby steps out into the light, a hand adjusting the frame of his spectacles. He’s stopped wearing his goofy hat, and looks a lot like his dad now. Except, his eyes are kinder. They’ve always been. Zuzu the Swampert appears beside him, greeting them with mild-mannered coos.

“What’re you doing here? You spooked me!” Sapphire asks as she stands upright, more surprised than angry. Zuzu and Toro are much more agreeable with one another, bounding off to play fight in a pile of leaves.

“Very nice to see you again too,” Ruby says with a dash of sarcasm, and inches back when she shoots him a dirty look. “Just thinking of redecorating, I suppose,” he relents, propping a hand on his chin. He examines the mouth of the cave with a measuring tape as Sapphire stands aside, jaw slack. “Remember how this used to look? I must admit it was one of my best interior design projects. I don’t think I gave myself a proper pat on the back for that. No matter, I’ve already got ideas for how to make Secret Base 2.0 even more fabulous!”

Sapphire doesn’t understand what’s happening. Trust Ruby to be the sort of person who you miss, and then immediately want gone when he’s actually around. “That was when we were kids! What… what’s the use of coming back here now? Don’t you have a job?”

Ruby glances over his shoulder mid-measurement and raises an eyebrow. “Pot calling kettle black, much?”

Sapphire sucks in a breath and stands her ground. “This is my neck of the woods! I can come here whenever I want!”

“You know how I never really liked spending time at that house with my dad around? This place is about the closest place I’d call home for me, at least in Hoenn. Lilycove is nice and clean and all, and I hate to admit it, but I was starting to miss this place.” Ruby does not turn around when he says this, but watching the firm line of his chin and the hand he runs along the cave wall, Sapphire can tell that he’s being serious.

“And today’s our anniversary, isn’t it? Of the day we met.” He spins on his heel to finally face her.

Sapphire wills herself not to blush like a thirteen-year old, and it is easy when she thinks about how Ruby shouldn’t be allowed to use that word.  

“Pfft. Anniversary? Ain’t that reserved for lovey-dovey couples? Who gave you permission to call it that?” Sapphire feels her heart sting at this, and hopes that it hurts Ruby too, even just a fraction.

The expression on his face shifts, from classic, nonchalant, above-it-all Ruby to a more neutral one. He presses his lips together and slowly winds the measuring tape around his knuckles, fidgeting with his hands.

“Will you help me rebuild the Secret Base, Sapph’?” he tries to change the topic.

“Why should I? I don’t come here anymore.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Ruby points out.

Sapphire sputters. “That’s—argh! Look, maybe to you it’ll be a fun and easy project, something to getcha’ mind off the stress of work. Whatever. This place means a lot more to me than you, and I ain’t in the mood to be a part o’ your flights o’ fancy.”

“It means a lot to me too.” Ruby stares at her, his mouth curving into a frown.

The words burst from Sapphire before she can contain them: “Then why didn’t you come back sooner?”

Her emotions have gotten to him and he fires back without filtering his words either. “I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know when would be a good time. I didn’t know how scary and disgusting the cave would be. I… I didn’t know how to tell you that I missed you, Sapph’.”

Hearing this from Ruby, the Ruby who is supposed to be selfish, the Ruby she hates, the Ruby she loves, Sapphire clenches her hand into a fist. She does not say a word, instead choosing to glare at him, daring him to continue.

To his credit, he does. “I know I’ve been a Gold-level jerk about it, but I’m not good with words. Running away? Making anything look pretty? All that’s easier than talking about feelings.” Ruby straightens his posture and removes his spectacles, so that he’s looking directly at her. “But Sapph’, all the times we’ve spent and all the times we’re going to spend—they’re important to me too. They’ve always been. I was too young and immature to face it. I’m trying to get better at it. Ten years is a long time to do nothing, and I don’t want to spend the next ten years not doing anything.”

Sapphire bites down on her lip, suppressing the urge to shout at the top of her lungs, to point and laugh at how their roles have reversed. To give him payback for all these years of chasing and dodging and convenient amnesia, hasn’t that been something she’s always wanted?

But Ruby’s words also cause her to think about everything she’s been through with him. She wouldn’t call it ‘doing nothing’. It’s everything but that. Haven’t they been through thick and thin together since their very first adventure? Haven’t they saved the world and held hands more times than she can count? Sure, they never talked about what they meant to each other, but at the end of the day, she knew that Ruby had her back. That he’d be there, always with a new set of clothes for whatever reason, and how she loved wearing the stuff he made even though she was too embarrassed to admit it.

Maybe she should have paid more attention to what Ruby did for her, instead of the stuff he refused to say. Maybe she’s been just as much of an immature brat as him.

“Don’t ignore me,” Ruby says in a soft voice. It is the voice of someone who is guilty, who knows that they don’t deserve a reply, not after what they’ve done, and not done.

For all the mistakes Ruby has made, Sapphire is sure she’s made some too. And Ruby, he never really left her alone, even when they had huge, ugly fights. Even when they were cities apart. He always found a way to show that he was still thinking of her, with sparkly hair clips she only wore on special occasions, and a bag of food that wasn’t meant for her.

Sapphire clears her throat and says, “I’ll help you rebuild the base, on one condition.”

Ruby visibly gulps. “What?”

“Take me out on a date.” She puts her hands on her hips.

He blinks a few times, as if he can’t quite process what she just said.

“Deal?” she asks with a chuckle. It’s funny, seeing Ruby caught off guard.

“Alright,” Ruby concedes at last. Instead of looking defeated, he smiles.

Sapphire lifts her hand up for a handshake. When Ruby takes her hand in his, it is a warm and familiar feeling. It reminds her of deep seas and heavy floods and relentless droughts and soaring through the skies. Of soft, blurry afternoons playing in the grass, childish laughter ringing in the air.

“It’s a deal.”

[diceforanaltmode]

Team Fire: Session 3, Egg?!; Part 1: Reunions? Breakfast?

Team Fire has continued their adventuring and at last we can bring you more of their shenanigans! Thanks to Hawke for providing recordings for this session and for the rest of the party for taking so much of their time to help with the transcription of all ~3.5hours of it - now you have an even more detailed account of all the hijinks! The full summary came to 30pages/10k+words, so we’ve split it into four parts to make it a bit easier to read on tumblr - click through to Session 3 part 2 at the end to keep reading!

TEAM FIRE

Rodimus by Frosty (tiefling sorcerer) Drift by Space (earth genasi rogue) Ratchet by Hawke (firbolg cleric) Magnus | Minimus by Tuna (half-orc paladin | human/tethyrian wizard) Megatron by Briar (goliath paladin) Rewind by Robin (high elf wizard) (out for this week, but back soon) First Session | Second Session

We begin our adventure with the party asleep after their long day defeating Zeta. In the middle of the night, Rodimus wakes up in the room he shares with Drift, with the sudden sense that someone has gone, like that feeling when people say they know that a relative has died, but also a sense of relief, like it was a shitty relative. To help himself get back to sleep, Rodimus casts sleep on himself.

Ratchet passes out in bed asleep, just conks right out. He dreams of his memories of what happened to the hospital. What Megatron did. But still, Ratchet rises early and rolls out of bed. He’s getting ready for the day when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Yes?”

Roller’s voice comes through the door. “Ratch, it’s me, can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ratchet opens the door. 

“Ah, hey, you doing alright? You sleep okay?”

“Ah, yeah, yeah, Slept pretty well.”

“That’s good. Hey, uh, I got a message from Orion, asked if we could meet to catch up since we didn’t really get to yesterday.”

“Oh, did we now.” Ratchet says sarcastically. “Yeah, the little screaming match yesterday,” Ratchet coughs. “Anyways - yeah, did he want to meet with both of us, or?”

“Yeah. To, y’know, avoid any shouting matches again, there’s a cafe a couple streets down, if you wanted to walk over, they open pretty early, and the coffee’s better than what Swerve serves - but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll always take a good coffee.”

“Alright,”

“I’ll be ready in ten,”

“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ratchet and Roller walk over in companionable silence. Ratchet’s still reflecting on the last day, after having spent the evening mostly drunk, and Roller doesn’t force any small talk. 

As they walk into the shop, they see baskets of bread and bagels and rolls, rows of pastries in glass cases, and in a large, round case, a whole cake, decorated with frosting shaped like yellow flowers. There are a few others in the cafe eating breakfast or picking up a loaf of bread for the day, Rung and Nightbeat are finishing up their breakfast. 

Orion is in a back corner, halfway through a mug of coffee and an apple turnover, and, talking to an Aarakocra woman, dressed in similar armor to Orion, who looks upset and angry. As Ratchet and Roller get closer, she stands up to leave, and they overhear Orion say, “Alright, I’ll ask him.” Orion looks up and acknowledges Roller and Ratchet. 

Ratchet grabs a coffee and then joins Orion. There’s a bit of awkwardness because the last time they saw each other, Orion was screaming at the scourge of Kaon and they had just killed Zeta. Roller follows, getting a coffee and a bearclaw. Ratchet and Orion both sit with their backs to the wall, while Roller has his back to the room.

“Thank you for coming,” Orion says, “It’s good to see you again in better circumstances.”

Ratchet stares into his mug of coffee for a little bit, before taking a deep slurp. “So, Orion, how’s the mind control been?”

“Well, better now that you all got rid of Zeta. Things aren’t quite yet coming back, but I’ve been talking with the AVL folks and they’ve been filling me in on what’s happened, they’ve been filling in all the guards. That’s also - the woman who just left, she’s also in the guard, she had the mind control, and, well, we both had the same thing, but she had it worse because - well, we can’t remember, but her kid is gone, and from what we can piece together, she thinks Zeta ordered her to bring her kid to him and leave the kid.”

Ratchet makes a horrified face at the notion.

“I take it from your reaction that you didn’t see any sign of the kid when you made your way through the castle.”

“To be honest I was a bit preoccupied on our way out making sure you got out, so no. We might be able to go back, search the premises if it helps, if - I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, I - assumed if you’d seen someone you would have made sure they got out, but I promised Ekalu I’d ask, since you were in the castle.”

“Yeah, I - I could ask the others when I get back to the tavern…” Ratchet says, trailing off to mutter, “her fucking kid...”

“I appreciate that.” Orion says, to Ratchet’s offer.

“Her fucking kid.” Ratchet mutters again, shaking his head.

Orion looks very downcast. “Fortunately from what we can tell it seems her kid was only gone a few days at the most, maybe a week. So at least not the entire time Zeta has been here.”

“So - you want to stage a search and rescue?”

“I wouldn’t know where to start. There’s the map the AVL showed you, I wouldn’t know where else a kid would be,” he considers, “unless there’s some part of the castle that Zeta built recently, something the AVL wouldn’t know about.”

“Yeah, I have an idea.” Ratchet says, “and you can rule out the high-security dungeons, we combed through those.”

“I heard. I -” Orion pauses, frowning, “ - what happened in there? I - You don’t - you don’t have to give me all the details.”

“Ah, not much, freed a lot of men, stumbled across a repentant warlord. Ya know, everyday things.”

“So you really buy it?”

“Coming back to this city was a mistake. I - I’m,” Ratchet considers. “He didn’t try to murder us. I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it. But - well, for now, he hasn’t tried any shady things, so - that’ll have to be enough for the moment. Drift - one of my companions on that job, Drift, seemed - rather opposed to taking Megatron down or securing him, or, or even just letting him say in the cell - you know, he was in a variable voltage harness, we didn’t have to let him go.” Ratchet sighs. “This whole thing’s been weird from start to finish.”

Orion sighs. “Well, for what it’s worth, seeing as you’re part of the reason I’m not under Zeta’s mind control anymore, I wouldn’t say coming here was a mistake,” he says. “How’ve you been? It’s been, what, fifteen, twenty years?”

“About. On the road, odd jobs. Trying my best. Trying, sometimes failing. Hmm,” he pauses, considers, “patching up people, the old wandering cleric life. I’ve - I’ve come here for First Aid originally, didn’t think I’d, you know, do the whole fighting a Vampyric overlord thing. I’ve been - y’know, I’ve been undercover.”

Orion nods. “Oh, First Aid’s here, that’s good,” he says, then adds. “They were debriefing all of the guards, they said they’re going to start up city council elections again, get things running back the way they were supposed to be.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” Ratchet considers his coffee. He’s not much of a morning conversationalist, not that he’s much of a conversationalist at any other time. Then, “I’m really glad you’re okay. I’m really fucking glad you’re okay.”

Orion smiles. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He sighs. “After everything happened in Iacon - just - it’s been hard not to worry, these past few years. And, knowing what you were up against in there - I’m real glad you made it out of there okay.”

“Yeah, I got out, and I -” Ratchet huffs, “I might be so foolish to say I might have some opportunity here, which is - better than nothing. Better than nothing at all.”

“Well, that’ll be good to hear. I don’t know if I’m going to stay in the city.”

“Wait,” Roller interjects, “why - why wouldn’t you stay here?”

Ratchet leans in, skeptical. “Any plans, Pax?”

“Y’know, I - in Iacon, I tried to see what I could do working within the system, and in Kaon I tried to see what I could do outside the system. Then I tried looking for a reformer in Zeta and that obviously didn’t work out -”

Ratchet scoffs.

“- yes, I know, if you had been around you would probably have had more sense and talked me out of it, but - I don’t know what happens next. And I don’t know if there’s a place for me in rebuilding this city. I don’t know how many people recognize me only as someone who worked for Zeta.”

“That’s… if it’s any consolation, if the mind control thing gets out, we might be able to stir up some ruckus, get some new souls on the crew,” he says. “The mind control - it wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault. I get not wanting to risk things. I get - having been forced to spend time as Zeta Prime’s mook, I get that.”

“Yeah.”

“So - what’s your plan? What’re you doing? Where’re you going?”

“I don’t know yet. I think I’ll have to see.”

“All right, well, hit me up when you’re going out into the world. I’ll prepare a big well-wishing speech, and maybe some flowers; hell, I could arrange a cake.”

Orion laughs. “If that’s true, you’ve changed more in the last twenty years than I could’ve imagined.”

Ratchet grins. “Hey, you never know how the times change, you never know where things go.” Ratchet looks at Orion’s plate. “Suppose you want to get proper breakfast food; you don’t look like you’ve eaten much.”

Orion takes a couple more bites of his apple turnover, “Eh, I’ll be fine, I’ll - well, I suppose I’ll get something else.”

“Alright!” 

Ratchet finishes the rest of his breakfast in the cafe as well - exactly three and a half peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fancy ones. The cafe staff are a little confused by the order, but they make it in good time, the bread is delicious, the peanut butter is good, and the jam is made in house, and it’s just prime.

As Ratchet sits back down to eat, Roller asks. “So - what about you, Ratch? What are you planning to do? I know you talked to First Aid about maybe setting something up here.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of - looking around, looking for people who can help, Y’know, we’ll need a place, people to help, to spread the word. It’ll be good to have a place again, where people - where anyone can go to get themselves patched up. For now, I’m staying, helping Aid, so I suppose I’ll keep to the headquarters.”

“Yeah, that’ll be where most of the political decisions are getting made. I, uh, I don’t think Prowl’s slept all night. I saw him on the way out.”

“Oh boy.”

“So if you want to know where things are being decided about how to rebuild, how to get things back running again - I know back before Zeta, there was - I don’t know if it was quite what you were talking about, but there were some clinics, a couple of them, in this town. Might be getting those back up to what they used to be.”

“So I’ve got a point to start. That’s honestly more than I would have hoped for.”

“Glad to have you here, Ratch.”

Ratchet lets out a long sigh. “Same.”

Roller chuckles.

---

After waking up, Magnus goes downstairs to check in with Dominus, and Rewind steps out so they can talk. Magnus walks in and immediately Dominus tries to leap out of bed to hug her but falls instead. She catches him before he can hurt himself.

“Thank you, sister, I -” Dominus sighs, “I keep thinking that I should be feeling better but it’s - it’s still taking its toll.”

“You have - you need as much time as you can possibly get! Don’t worry about it.”

“Ah thank you, I’m terribly sorry.” Dominus lies back down, propping himself upright just enough to give Magnus a hug.

“I heard from Rewind that you and your friends were able to kill Zeta and free the city”

“Ah - I - yes.”

“That’s unbelievable, sister. And I -” Dominus looks at his sister, very sincere, “thank you for keeping yourself and my husband safe.”

“Of course! Of course.”

“How are you doing now? Are you alright?”

“I - I do not know. I’m here now, I saved you. It’s been a long road to here. It’s been three years and - and I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Dominus reaches out and pats Magnus’ forearm before sighing. “I think everything will be alright. I think it will take some time but everything will be - will be alright now. Found a place that I think can be a safe home in a way that -” Dominus pauses. ”In a way that Iacon couldn't.”

“That’s good. That’s very good.“

“Maybe not,” Dominus says quietly before continuing. “Of course that’s - that’s because of you, because you freed the city, so thank you and thank you for coming to find me.”

Magnus is trying to hold back tears.

“I - thank you Dominus. I -” she trails off. Dominus hugs Magnus again, not wanting to let go. 

After all the heavy talk Magnus tries to make small talk with Dominus.“So - uh, the hammer?!”

“It’s - it’s quite alright, I know you sister; you don’t need to try and make small talk. It’s quite alright.”

Magnus sighs. “True. Thank you. No - but seriously- why did you make the hammer?”

“Oh, I - Rewind said he gave it to you. Do you like it? Do you like it?!” Dominus asks excitedly.

“It’s absolutely fantastic!”

“I’m so glad! I thought you’d appreciate it. I certainly hope it was useful to you. I’m glad I was able to finish it before you came, although I would’ve liked to give it to you under better circumstances.”

“Heh - yeah it’s - hm,” Magnus considers. “I don’t know how else to describe it; it’s just- useful. Very nice. And you put so much detail on it, so it’s nice to see your work again.”

“From you sister, that’s the highest compliment.”

“Thank you.” 

Seeing that Dominus can’t take much more conversation and needs to continue resting, Magnus says, “you need to rest more and knowing me I will pass out if I do not eat something in the next five minutes so - please do rest.”

“I will. Rewind brought me something to eat earlier but please make sure you get yourself something, many things.”

Magnus laughs a bit at the wording. “I intend!”

Dominus gives Magnus one last hug before leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes. Magnus places a hand on Dominus’ forearm, kisses his head, and says, “Please sleep well brother, I love you.”

“I love you too, sister.” --- Continue to part 2!

[ohmytheon]

It’s (Not) a Date (2/2)

summary: What better way to get petty revenge on his father than blow his money at an insanely expensive restaurant? It’s a good idea in Todoroki’s opinion and the person that will enjoy the experience the most is Uraraka, so of course it makes perfect sense to ask her if she wants to go out for dinner with him. What could go wrong?

notes: Here is the second part to this fic. This was 80% inspired by this tumblr post, which made me laugh for five minutes, and 20% inspired by wellthengetouttathesoupaisle’s Chaotic Rich Kid Todoroki fic, “two hundred and fifty-three black sandelwood bathbombs”. This shit is so fluffy that ya'll are gonna need to go to a dentist after reading. I'm just saying. There might or might not be a third part. I'm tempted, but I can end it here. I do have a lot going on (and the Todochako Fantasy AU that I need to work on, oops), so we shall see. I could've split this chapter in half too, but decided to post it all in one go. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Todoroki spent the next day focused on his training. He had grown stronger and more capable using both sides of his quirk at the same time, but it was still draining. Instead of focusing on the overwhelming power of his quirk, he’d started to figure out how to use it in more subtle ways. It had proven more difficult than he’d expected, but the sole focus of his training for so long had been on strength. His training was also an excellent distraction. He didn’t even think about dinner until five o’clock rolled around, his stomach an even excellent reminder.

After showering and changing into black slacks and a casual, white button-up shirt, he meandered into the common area to do some light reading. A few of his other classmates were lounging in there as well. It was very rarely empty during the day on the weekends, at least one student occupying the space. None of them bothered him, which was fine with him. As he sat in a large chair, he held a book in one hand and twirled his father’s black credit card absentmindedly in between the fingers of his other.

His father had told him to use it if he thought it necessary. Besides essentials, the last thing he’d used it for had been on fixing up his dorm to his liking. To be honest, his old man hadn’t done anything awful, especially not when stacked up against the massive list of his past transgressions, but Todoroki was irritated just enough to want to do something to piss him off in return.

This was an entirely necessary expense.

“Oh, um- hey, Todoroki.”

Midoriya’s familiar voice cut through Todoroki’s attention on the book, making him lower it and turn his gaze on his friend. “I thought you were visiting your mom this weekend.”

“I did!” Midoriya responded cheerily. He was smiling, but it looked more anxious than anything. He’d gotten better about his anxiety over the past two years, but it seemed like it would always be a part of him. “I was just… Well, I was curious. You don’t have to say anything, of course. I’m not trying to pry. Okay, I guess I am.” Todoroki stared back at him and waited as he tried to gather his thoughts. He still had a habit of talking them out loud. “Are you...excited about tonight?”

Todoroki furrowed his brow. “Excited?”

“Yeah!” Midoriya said. “You know, about going out for dinner with Uraraka.”

“I suppose so,” Todoroki replied evenly. He didn’t think excited was the right word. He was looking forward to it. The food was excellent and Uraraka was always good company. She was cheerful and never seemed to mind filling in the gaps of his silence, like they were there for a reason. Besides, they were good friends, but it’d be nice to get to know her more since the two of them were close with Midoriya.

“Oh.” Midoriya scratched his head, but shrugged his shoulders. “Well, have fun!”

It wasn’t long after he left when Uraraka showed up. As soon as she spotted him, she froze, her cheeks pinker than normal, but then walked in his direction. The smile on her face looked anxious too. It made him want to frown, but he didn’t. He didn’t think he was as intimidating as he’d been before. Maybe he wasn’t the most open person in their class (and he never would be), but he had been trying not to shut people out as it tended to give them the wrong impression. Inasa had taught him that over a year ago.

“Hey there,” Uraraka greeted, all warm and sweet. She waved a hand at herself. “This okay?”

Todoroki slipped the card in his wallet and set his book aside to give her a brief lookover. She was wearing an outfit similar to her school uniform in a way: a modest black skirt, black tights, and brown boots with a thin, snug brown sweater to match. “You look perfect.”

Uraraka blushed even further and stammered out a, “Tha-thanks,” before hastily adding, “You look great too!”

At the couch where Kirishima and Bakugou were playing video games, Bakugou snorted and lightly scoffed, “Fuck, could you get anymore awkward?” without looking away from the television. Uraraka whipped her head around to shoot him a glare that he must’ve seen out of the corner of his eyes from the way he smirked.

“Ah, don’t mind him, Uraraka,” Kirishima said, pounding his friend on the back. “He’s just jealous.”

That did pull Bakugou’s attention away from the game as he indignantly responded, “I am not--”

“Go enjoy yourselves on this lovely evening!” Kirishima interrupted, somehow managing to wave at them even as Bakugou dropped his controller and moved to attack him.

Honestly, Todoroki didn’t know what all that was about, but he wasn’t going to ask either. Bakugou was sometimes hard to understand and then incredibly simple to read. Glancing back to Uraraka, Todoroki asked, “You ready?” and she nodded. He left the book at the table. It wasn’t like anyone was going to steal it and he wanted to read a little more after they got back from dinner.

They left without any fanfare, everyone distracted by Kirishima and Bakugou’s rough-housing. He had made sure to get permission to go off campus beforehand, so leaving wasn’t a problem. Uraraka did seem unusually quiet, but then she might still be tired from her extracurricular training. It was maybe a little uncomfortable, simply because of its strangeness, but he didn’t mind the silence. By the time they reached the train station, neither one of them had said much. He got the feeling that something was on Uraraka’s mind, but she was too distracted to notice that she wasn’t talking.

“Are you sure you wanted to come?” Todoroki asked. He wasn’t nervous about it. If she had said no or that she was busy, it wouldn’t have upset him. It wasn’t like she had to join him on this little, petty adventure. He supposed that it was an unusual and out of the blue request. Maybe she thought it was weird. She had a pretty loving and close relationship with her parents. He’d managed to rebuild his with his mother, but it wasn’t the same as hers. “If you had other plans, I would’ve understood.”

“Oh, no!” Uraraka jumped in to reassure him. “I wanted to come. I was just, um…” She rubbed the back of her head and chuckled. “I was surprised, is all - that you asked me to join you - for dinner, I mean.” They had never really hung out one-on-one before so that was understandable. They’d been paired up before in groups and sat next to each other while eating, but they had always had their other friends around them. “Were, ah, Deku, Momo, or Iida busy?”

“I don’t know,” Todoroki responded honestly. “I asked you first.”

Uraraka’s face did a funny thing, like she didn’t know whether to smile or look confused. In the end, she settled for neither, going with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Oh. Well - thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Todoroki turned his attention to the map, taking note of which stop they would have to get off. It had been a while since he’d eaten at this particular restaurant, but he remembered where it was well enough. This was the area he’d grown up in, after all. “I didn’t want to eat by myself and I figured you would appreciate it the most.”

“I do like to eat,” Uraraka laughed.

“Besides, it’s a bit like a ‘thank you’ for what you did this week in class. We would’ve lost without you.”

“Nah, you would’ve pulled something out of the bag,” Uraraka insisted, waving a hand at him. “You’re way strong.”

Holding onto the handle over his head, Todoroki gazed down at her. “You’re a lot more incredible than you give yourself credit for. That win definitely belongs to you. Take it.”

After gaping up at him with her lips parted and her eyebrows raised for a few seconds, Uraraka wiped the slightly stunned look from her face, replacing it with a decidedly much more determined one, and nodded. There, that was better. He liked it when she was more confident in herself. He knew that he was strong, but it felt good to help other people see that in themselves. Maybe her quirk wasn’t as flashy as others, but it was hers and he knew that she was going to accomplish so much with it.

“So where are we going anyway?” Uraraka asked, her curiosity taking over. Just like that, any tension between them evaporated. Her grip on the pole she held to keep herself from falling loosened as she leaned against it.

“Just some place I used to go when I was younger,” Todoroki told her.

Uraraka waggled her eyebrows. “Oo, a surprise then. How exciting!”

A faint smile quirked at Todoroki’s lips in the face of her silliness. “I thought it’d be more fun.”

“Aw, I knew you were hiding a more playful side under that calm veneer,” Uraraka teased.

A few minutes later, their stop was called out and the train came to a stop. The two of them swayed with the other passengers, Todoroki bumping into her lightly despite his tight grip on the handle. He murmured an apology, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head. They waited for a few people to get off before pushing their way off the train. She followed him without question as they started to walk on the sidewalk.

“I’ve never been to this part of town before,” Uraraka admitted, looking at the tall buildings around them. “How much further?

“We’re almost there.” They walked another block, took a left, and then Todoroki pointed at the restaurant a block down. “That’s it.”

Uraraka’s jaw dropped. “Todoroki! You can’t be serious!” She spun on him, eyes blown wide with panic. To be honest, that was one of the last reactions he’d been expecting. Maybe shock or excitement, but not full-blown panic like she might start hyperventilating at any second. “You’re joking, right? We’re going somewhere else. You can’t possibly be taking me there.”

“Why not?” Todoroki didn’t see a problem. “I used to eat there like once a month when I was younger.”

“Because it’s incredibly expensive!” Uraraka burst, waving her hands frantically before pressing them against his chest and shoving him back around the corner. He was surprised by her action, but didn’t stop her, not even as she held him there. It was like she was embarrassed to be seen by the restaurant. “I’ve never even been to a one michelin star place. But two stars? Oh my god, Todoroki, this is insane. I’m so underdressed. I look practically homeless compared to their usual clients.”

She did not. It was an absolutely absurd statement and overreaction. “You look fine.”

Uraraka shook her head. “They won’t even let me in.”

“They’ll let you in,” Todoroki reassured her.

Biting her lip, Uraraka peered up at him. There was nothing slight about the anxiety on her face now. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re with me,” Todoroki said before taking one of her hands from his chest and pulling her back around the corner and toward the restaurant.

Maybe she believed him or she simply didn’t have it in her to fight him, too stunned to do anything but let him guide her to the front door. She made a quiet half whimper half groan sound when the doorman eyed them strangely but let them inside anyway. By the time they made it to the host stand, she was practically hiding behind him, using him as a shield even as she gawked at everything.

The maître d raised an eyebrow at them and politely said, “I believe you have the wrong establishment.”

“No, we don’t,” Todoroki responded evenly.

That politeness took a sharp turn, even as he smiled. “I’m afraid this is not a...teen friendly place. I can recommend somewhere more in your price range for a date.”

“I’m well aware of the prices.”

“Then you must also be aware you need a reservation in order to eat here.”

“Yes, hence why I made one yesterday.”

The maître d actually laughed. “You made one yesterday? It takes weeks to get in.”

“It should be under the name Todoroki.”

He went from laughing to pale and shocked in less than a second. As much as he hated the fact that his name was irrevocably tied to his father’s, Todoroki couldn’t deny that it came in handy sometimes. He very rarely used it, if ever, but he hadn’t even tried when making the reservation here. When he had called and asked if it was possible, even though he knew it was on such short notice, the person on the phone had practically tripped in trying to help him, even asking him if he had a specific table, server, or special that he wanted.

“I- I’m sorry. Yes, of course, here you are. Follow me, please.” The maître d was flushed as he shakily gathered two menus. He couldn’t even look Todoroki in the eyes, his own darting to the side whenever he tried. Behind Todoroki, Uraraka was gripping his shirt as they made their way through the restaurant to their table, but there was a much less nervous energy about her. She wasn’t acting like she had to hide from everyone.

“It’s fine, just a misunderstanding.” Todoroki didn’t particularly care about the mix-up. Two teens walking in here was a strange occurrence. Not many kids ate here. He’d been one of the very few to frequent here and only because he was with his father. None of his siblings had been here, as far as he knew. His mom had come once or twice, but that was it. He barely listened as the maître d explained the special, eyes flickering to Uraraka when she mumbled that she’d like a water when asked what she wanted to drink.

With that ordeal over, Uraraka picked up the menu and outright gaped. “This is insane.” She shook her head and set the menu down. “You can’t pay for this. I can’t let you do that. I’m not…” Her cheeks seemed to have taken a permanent red tinge, hiding her typical pink spots. “Todoroki, some of these meals are almost much as my rent.”

“Like I said, I’m not paying for this.” Todoroki pulled the black credit card out of his wallet and set it down on the white linen table. “My father is.”

Uraraka gawked at the card like it was some ancient artifact that might be cursed, but slowly, her expression began to mellow out. She was still staring at it when she asked, “So this is to just get back at your dad, right?”

“Yes, and to hang out with you.”

The smile on her face was strange, almost tremulous as she bit her lip and looked up at him, but then she nodded and picked up the menu again. From all the blushing she’d been doing, her face had to be as warm as his left side felt after using his quirk. “Okay.”

“Is it?” Todoroki asked, wanting to make sure that she truly was okay with this. Maybe he should have told her where he was taking her first, but it hadn’t seemed like a big deal to him, not when the whole plan was to spend a boat load of his father’s money anyway.

“Well, I mean, I am super hungry and we’re sitting down already,” Uraraka joked. He opened his mouth, but then she jumped in to continue before he could say anything, “It’s not like I’m ever going to get this chance again. Thank you for asking to help you with this. If this is you being passive aggressive, I could get used to it.”

“We can go somewhere else next week then,” Todoroki suggested, a restaurant down the street coming to mind. Or maybe they could go to the mall. She hadn’t bought anything there when they had all gone last time, even though he’d seen her eyeing a dress forlornly after trying it on.

Uraraka laughed and teased, “Slow down there, cowboy. We haven’t even ordered from here yet.”

Once their server appeared with their drinks, Todoroki ordered a few aperitifs. Uraraka had giggled over the fancy word for appetizers, which had made their server raise her eyebrow, but she hadn’t hesitated over the price at least. It was the meal that he was more concerned about. When he’d asked her what she was thinking about getting, she brought up the least expensive meal on there, which admittedly was still far out of her normal price range.

“Ignore the prices,” Todoroki told her and she sighed. It was easier said than done. “Think of it this way: the more money you spend, the happier I’ll be.”

“When you put it that…” Uraraka mumbled, hiding behind the menu again.

With the arrival of their aperitifs, all of which Uraraka nearly drooled over, they ordered their main courses. Well, Uraraka was stuck choosing between three different meals, so Todoroki just ordered all three. Problem solved. Both the server and Uraraka had gawked at him, but the server said nothing as Uraraka sputtered incoherently. It wasn’t that big of a deal. His father might blow a gasket after he got his company credit card bill at the end of the month, but just seeing the way Uraraka’s eyes lit up after trying the food made it worth it.

“Is it good?” Todoroki asked.

“Good?” Uraraka repeated with a mouthful of food. She swallowed. “I’m pretty sure this is what they serve in heaven. Did I die in our last hero class? Are you an angel?”

“I don’t think so,” Todoroki told her, a faint but amused smile appearing on his face.

“Honestly, you’re my hero,” Uraraka told him before she tried something different. He knew it was a joke, but she sounded so earnest that it almost made him blush. He didn’t know how to react to that, but her pure joy was infectious and it wasn’t long before he was happily eating the food as well.

By the time the plates were empty and cleared, she’d stopped paying attention to anyone staring at them, be it rudely or subtlety. The conversation flowed effortlessly throughout the entire dinner. As usual, Uraraka carried it for the most part, her friendly nature overpowering his reticent one, but when she asked him questions, he responded without hesitation, even asking a few of his own.

He explained to her how he knew this restaurant and why he’d picked it, but he also told her about why he was angry with his father and wanted to get back at him. She was sympathetic, but didn’t pry when it was obvious that he was leaving some details out of the story. Some of the others in their class might be pushy, but Uraraka seemed content with whatever he decided to tell her. She was easy to talk with, her brown eyes warm with understanding but her words never too presumptuous. It helped that she was so happy and excited. When their food arrived, she insisted on sharing everything so they could enjoy it all.

“Don’t forget about dessert,” he reminded.

Uraraka gave him a mock-offended look, laying a hand over her heart, and told him in a very serious tone, “Todoroki, I never forget about dessert.”

The food was as incredible as he remembered, if not more. Perhaps the different company made it better. Uraraka was a much more pleasant person to eat dinner with than his father or his agency sidekicks. Her laugh was warmer than the food sitting in his belly, her smiles brighter than the crystal glasses they drank from. Somehow, by the end of the meal, their chairs had scooted closer together as they picked their way through the food. Whatever they didn’t finish, they could take back to the dorms. Uraraka was a waste-not type. She was already excited about leftovers, which he found silly since they hadn’t even finished eating yet.

Before he could even order the dessert, however, their server appeared at their table and set it down in front of them, proclaiming, “Compliments of the chef.”

Todoroki shook his head. “I can’t take this for free. Put it on the ticket.”

“He insists,” the server said.

“I insist more,” Todoroki countered in a cool tone. “I want to pay for the hard work you all have done in making this an enjoyable experience for us.”

When the server left, admittedly awkward, Uraraka burst into muffled laughter, hiding her face on his shoulder so that no one else in the restaurant would see. “You’re not even paying for this.”

“I’m not going to use my father to take advantage of this establishment,” Todoroki pointed out. She laughed even harder and he managed a little grin.

When the two of them dug into the dessert, it was just as Todoroki expected. Not only was it delicious, but Uraraka nearly melted into a puddle when she took the first bite. If they hadn’t been in such a fancy place, she probably would’ve moaned a little from how much she loved it, but she promised that she would contain herself. Instead of shoveling it in their mouths, they ate the dessert slowly, savoring every bite until finally the plate was empty.

Having eaten a ridiculous amount of food, the two of them slumped in their seats and rested their arms over their stomachs. Todoroki couldn’t remember ever eating so much all at once in his life. His father had kept him on a strict diet growing up so that he was in tip top shape. The food here was so rich though and not just price-wise. Uraraka wore the most content expression he’d ever seen, eyes closed with a pink face and her lips tilted up in a dazed smile, resting her head against his arm. He had the strange urge to wrap his arm around her, but he kept still and soaked in the warmth of the physical contact.

“Todoroki?”

“Hm?”

“I said it before, but… Thank you. This has been one of the best moments of my life.”

He glanced down at her at a loss of what to say. She didn’t seem to mind his sudden movement, still leaning against him. A powerful warm feeling surged inside of him, almost like an adrenaline rush. Indeed, she looked incredibly pleased. She was a happy person, but the fact that he’d done something that made her this happy struck him as special. It was different than complimenting someone or saving them. It was kind of addicting if he was honest. Could he do it again? Could he repeat this feeling for others? For her? For him?

Would she go out to dinner with him again if he asked her?

“I’ll take the check, please,” Todoroki told the server when she came to clear the very empty plate. Uraraka jumped when she realized that they weren’t alone, scooting away from him and clearing her throat. Before she could look at the check, which he knew she would try to do, he plucked it from the server and slid the black credit card inside without even looking at the total. Endeavor’s pro hero agency could cover this expense. He owed it to his youngest son and more.

Upon getting the receipt back, he made sure to edge away so that Uraraka couldn’t see it. He had a feeling that she had calculated the total in her head anyway, judging from the way she was chewing on her nails. After making sure to put down a ridiculous tip, he waited for the server to come by before handing the black book. He knew how badly she wanted to look at the ticket, but he wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t about that.

Okay, that was kind of a lie. It had started out as spending a shit ton of his father’s money, but it turned into something more. It wasn’t just about blowing money; it was about making Uraraka smile too.

Standing up from the table, he helped pull her chair back and held out a hand to help her out of the chair, even though she didn’t really need it. After all, it was the polite thing to do, especially in an establishment like this. She didn’t blush or flail about in embarrassment. Maybe he should’ve noticed that neither one of them let go of each other’s hands, but it simply slipped his mind, the feel of her small hand and padded fingers in his almost natural.

Their server swung by one more time to thank them, tears in her eyes, and the maître d apologized once more and bid them a goodnight on their way out. This time, Uraraka wasn’t hiding. She waved pleasantly to all the employees, thanking them and asking if they could tell the kitchen what an amazing job they did. Even though they’d been scoffed at, she wasn’t insulted at all and was still friendly. She was a good person like that.

It made him feel warm in a pleasant way, not the kind he felt if he overused the fire side of his quirk, to the point where the cool early spring air barely bothered him. Still, he made sure to switch their leftovers to his other hand so Uraraka was walking at his left. He reached down to grab her hand again and pulled her in close so she could stay warm. The sweater and leggings provided her warmth, but it was easier to gently use his quirk. With the sun having set, it had gotten dramatically colder. She smiled up at him and leaned in, like it was entirely normal for him to allow people this close to him on a regular basis. It wasn’t, but he found that he didn’t mind.

His heart content, mind settled, and stomach full, Todoroki couldn’t find much to complain about. He’d made the right decision when he had invited her. His father would get pissed. Uraraka got a great meal. He was able to strengthen their relationship. It was the best use of his free time by far. He could get used to this feeling. Hopefully she would want to do something like this again. He wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. It was...nice, very nice indeed.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Okay, no one’s asked, but I am well aware that I owe the world in general, @downtonabbeyandausten in particular, a doctoral thesis on Thomas. Since I can never figure out where to start and suspect I would have to rewatch the series from the beginning, taking notes the entire time, to really do a proper job of it, here’s a quick, pounded out before work overview of my favorite hedgehog-in-livery.

I’m sure there are logic holes, spelling errors, etc. I apologize in advance for that. I’m on a rather tight timeline this morning and at least the start was done before I’d had a single cup of tea.

How I feel about this character:

I've said it before, I'll say it again - there are certain characters who walk on screen or stage and immediately make me go "Oh, I'm going to like you" and that is very, very rarely wrong. In Thomas's case, they were spot on. The boy needs hugs. Lots of hugs. All the hugs. Also, he is the perfect 'Downton' character. Julian Fellows has stated that he doesn't like black and white scenarios where one person is right and the other is wrong. He prefers situations where both sides have a point and who you side with depends on who's PoV you're looking at. That's Thomas. I will not pretend that he can't be a perfect ass and that a lot of what he does is flat up nasty and wrong. However, if you look at it from his PoV, particularly from this time period where psychology has advanced a bit beyond Freud and the early behavioralists, it's pretty much all justified, all logical, and all very, very human. And it's easy to sit back and judge and say 'that was wrong' without looking further into it, but really, given his base temperament, I don't think it's at all fair or realistic to expect him to do any better and that absolutely does not make him a bad person. He's the poster child for childhood neglect, always trying to get attention through negative means, because that's generally the only time people pay attention to him. He's always fighting to find ways to get ahead, because the people who tell him things like "if you want to go forward, work hard" hire majority workers who are less capable rather than rewarding his hard work. He's a perfect example of 'you reap what you sew' not just because he tends to get his comeuppance, but because everyone around him absolutely reinforces the negative behaviors they don't like.

And he needs hugs.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Canonically? No one. The Duke of Crowborough was the first TV character I've ever spent 24 hours wanting to punch in the face and I think people who rally around him as having been used by Thomas weren't paying attention and have entirely the wrong end of the stick (seriously, look at how he treated Mary!). Pamuk was Pamuk. I did like Edward, but that one felt one sided even before I read the cut lines where Edward asked if Sybil was as pretty as she sounded. Jimmy didn't happen and he annoyed me, so I'm kinda glad about that. Sorry Thomas/Jimmy fans, but there it is.  I prefer Andy as the adopted little brother/cousin/whatever the show presented him as.

Peter Pelham, of course, had potential, except that he died before they ever met. Woops. I will count him as a romantic ship I like, though, because I like AUs where this thing happened.

My personal crack relationship, although I don't think it would ever go so far as being physical, is Thomas and Dr. Clarkson. Clarkson is one of the few characters I can see being at least a bit bi and it would explain a few things about his relationship with our cranky hedgehog.  Of course, in order for it to actually happen, even on a purely emotional level, Dr. Clarkson would have to admit "yeah, mostly like women, but there's been an exception or two" and for them both to get over the age difference, so not likely, but I do like the dynamic.

Also, one bit of personal psychology that I could not begin to explain if my life depended on it is my brain's insistence on trying to get him and Lady Mary in bed. Not 'straightening him out' mind. Not even doing that a little. But the idea of them sleeping together makes my muse giggle like a monkey on nitrous oxide and I Do. Not. Know. Why.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

If Thomas is the perfect "Downton" character, then Thomas and Baxter are the perfect "Downton" relationship. They both do things right, they both do things wrong, and either way, they are, from their own perspectives, completely justified in their behavior. Now, this could go terribly (I mean, worse than it did) and would have if Baxter weren't such a wonderful person, but she is a wonderful person, so it actually winds up being very rewarding to watch.

Of course, most people I've seen explore this relationship do it from Baxter's PoV, which is not surprising. It's a bit more accessible than Thomas's and involves more admirable traits. I mean, it takes a pretty good person to be persistently nice and caring to someone who is trying to strong arm you into doing something you're super uncomfortable with and threatening your job. However, she wouldn't have been there if it weren't for him, because they had a deal: he would put his job on the line by lying to his employer to get her the position if she would replace O'Brien in his life and get him the knowledge he needed to feel as powerful as everyone else in the house. Once she got there and got her side of the bargain, she suddenly started trying to back out of her side of things. I don't care who you are, feeling used like that isn't nice, and Thomas is continually - in large and small ways - feeling taken advantage of, so it got a particularly nasty response (And his PoV on the subject is black and white enough on the subject that the fact she was simply trying to find other ways to support him didn't matter, even though it is, of course, one of her admirable points). When he started threatening her job, it wasn't because he wanted to get her sacked, it was because he wanted her to go back to doing what she promised and he didn't know any other way to accomplish that. After all, the main motivators people had used on him were uneven power dynamics, bullying, and threats. That was seriously all he knew how to do. And then, when he finally reached the end of his rope on the subject and made good on those threats, he discovered she'd gone so far as to try and preserve her job by costing him his - nice payback for his getting her hired to begin with.

And while there are people who will automatically respond to that by jumping in, once again, with Baxter's PoV, for me the fact that she's the one - ultimately - who burnt that bridge is super important to her character and one of the things that made her so strong and wonderful and good, because unlike the rest of the cast who would have made excuses for why they were perfectly in the right and he was nasty and deserved it, she, being Baxter, took absolute responsibility for her actions, acknowledged that while he had been upsetting her, she had hurt him, and by gum, no matter how much he objected, she was going to rebuild that bridge or die trying.  She did not insist that Thomas was doing a one man tango where his actions negatively affected those around him and needed to be altered, but the view point and actions of the rest of the world had no real affect on his happiness or behavior. She was not treating him well because she wanted to convince herself that she was a better person and more capable of goodness than he was. She was nice because she was a genuinely nice, caring person who acknowledged that she'd not handled things perfectly and wanted to make things right again.

In the end, this resulted in probably the healthiest, most supportive relationship he'd had in his entire life and damn if that's not satisfying to see.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

There are days it feels like I'm the only Thomas fan in the entire fandom who is 100% AOK with where he ended up. While it's nice to think of him with a better job and a boyfriend, I really don't think that's realistic, I think it undermines the point of the character which was to point out that locking people in closets sucks and we shouldn't do it, and I think people really undervalue the position of butler in that time period as well as Downton in general. You'll note that, after the black market fail, Thomas stopped trying to get out of service completely. That's because there really weren't many better job options. Even by the end of the series when more and more people were moving into other industries, those tended to be younger people just starting out. Thomas had the same problem a lot of people changing carriers later in life (and thinking of him as 'later in life' may seem ridiculous, but he's been in service a minimum 15 years) have. He has been in service long enough that getting a factory job or a job in a store or something similar that paid anywhere near what he was used to was minimal. While he would have developed skills that might help him starting his own business, he lacked the money to start up and didn't really have a way to get it. A medical job higher than 'orderly' is straight out. He does not have the education and in that time you weren't working your way up from the bottom in that field, which is why you had people like Lord Your-Baby's-Under-A-Cabbage-Leaf. And, of course, if he had any of those jobs he would not have paid room and board, which anyone living on their own and paying their own bills will tell you is a pretty big bonus.

Okay, but why Downton? Why couldn't he have gone on to a different, better big house? Because there wasn't one, that's why. The estates were crumbling, so jobs were getting scarce. We saw that in the series. The ones that stayed open wanted people who could fill a number of roles and Thomas didn't have the skill sets. We saw that too. I should hope I don't need to point out that he was flat out turned down for a job because the butler knew he was gay, where as Lord Grantham not only employed him, but kept him out of jail. That is a huge, screaming bonus. People get hung up on all of the ways the Downton crew handled him wrong and overlook the fact that pretty much anyplace else was going to do even worse. By the end of the series, the set up downstairs was about as supportive as he could hope for. Carson was still there, but he was on his way out. Being butler would put him equal with Mrs. Hughes and make them work together, which means she'd be far more able to observe how he works and come up with healthy ways to support him. Baxter and Andy are genuine friends and, well, Baxter in particular is Baxter.. The Bates's will likely be the cause of some friction (and of course, Mrs. Patmore frequently has the tact of a cricket bat to the face), but overall they don't want a fuss, so they won't raise one, especially after Mrs. Hughes makes it clear she doesn't like having to work with the hissing bundle of prickles that results from Mr. Bates's needling.

And of course, Downton has two - soon to be more - people who adore him beyond words and don't care about who he loves so long as they get their piggy back rides.  

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in:

I really would have liked to see more interaction between him and Mrs. Hughes/Sybbie. Mrs. Hughes, I suppose, is to be somewhat expected because they were both busy, but his first connection with the children was Sybbie, it was a pretty strong connection, then in season 6 it was basically preempted by George. I suspect this probably had a lot to do with earning him Mary's sympathies (which was important) and probably a bit to do with the availability of Sybbie's actress, but it still would have been nice to see.

[amoristt]

Source of the Ocean | Tony Stark

note: putting ‘tony x daughter!reader’ felt very... Wrong since the fic is ENTIRELY platonic so I didn’t put it in the title lmao

Anonymous Asked: hiii! i'd like to request a tony/kid!reader where she's been having a hard time dealing with depression, and she turns to drinking despite being young and tony catches her :) if there's a way you can have a happy ending that would be awesome, but angst is just fine too. no problemo! i’ve been wanting to write about tony for a while not, even if it is angst :3 

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warnings: underage drinking

Source of the Ocean

Down in his lab like a mad scientist, Tony rushed from either side of his table while reading a fairly complicated strip of blueprints. The small robot he was building vibrated in front of him as it was brought to life by makeshift wires, and instead of wrapping the cords with electrical tape he stepped back and sighed. It had been hours since he started working on the item, and though the design seemed simple enough it was hard to put together. Much harder than he’d originally thought it would be.

It was just a little bot that you’d come up with one day and gave Tony the prints, asking him if they looked alright, and he gave you the ‘okay’ but you never did anything with him. Building isn’t nearly as fun as planning, you’d told him. He didn’t understand your logic whatsoever but kept your prints, and now here he was years later trying to assemble the contraption you’d thought up. However, something was lacking, and it was driving him absolutely insane that he couldn't figure out what. Being the talented mechanic he was, he figured he could fill in any and all blanks and maybe even upgrade your ideas a bit, but nope. Something was not working right and now it was a personal matter- he needed to know what.

With one idea after the next, each and every one literally blew up in his face in short plumes of smoke and burnt metal. He was hoping with the wires he’d put together it would work, and it seemed almost too good to be true when the bot started humming to life. However, it actually was too good to be true, since the moment he reached out to try and nudge it, the wires sparked and that familiar burning smell returned all over again.

That was it.

“Friday?” He called without looking up from his fizzing contraption. The item popped for a second and he flinched away, lifting his arm up to protect his eyes from the sparks. More annoyed than worried, he frowned and huffed.

Friday’s voice came from seemingly nowhere. “Yes, sir?”

Tony bit at this thumbnail for a moment before putting on one rubber glove, scooting the failed robot a little farther down the table away from his bare arms. “Can you call down ___?” He tossed the glove on the desk and sighed. Resting on the table a few feet away was a half empty bottle of whiskey that looked pretty tempting right about now.

“I’m afraid ___ is unavailable at this time, sir.”

He physically looked up at the ceiling in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. “Unavailable? It’s barely 7.” There’s no way she’d be sleeping at this time, especially as of late. If anything she had a problem of sleeping too little, and it was something Tony often (hypocritically) found himself scolding her for. He guessed he couldn’t blame her, however. She’d been going through a lot lately.

“She is asleep.”

Tony bit at his cheek. He wanted to let her sleep even if it destroyed with little sleeping schedule she had, but he needed to talk to her. For a moment or two he tossed ideas around in his head, but another pop of metal in front of him brought him from his concerns and reminded him of his bone to pick.

“Wake her up, then. She can go to bed after she helps me figure this monster out.”

“___ appears to be…” Friday paused, hauntingly human-like. “Intoxicated.”

It took him almost a full 10 seconds to register what he’d just heard. Surely ___, of all people, would not be passed out drunk right now. She was underage, first of all, and she was always giving him a rough time for his previous alcoholism. Sure, he wasn’t entirely off the drink now, but he was sure as hell doing better than he was before. When he came to terms with Friday’s words, he still couldn’t stop himself for asking for clarification. He prayed he’d misheard.

“Excuse me?” He asked, his slowly building aggression coming out in his words, “She’s what?”

“Intoxicated, sir.”

He leaned forward, staring down blankly at your blueprints but not actually reading them. His hands balled into fists. He didn’t mishear. An anger he hadn’t felt for a long time started to rise in his chest, right into his throat, and he cleared it before standing straight up and wiping some of the grease off his hands and onto his black sweats.

“Alrighty then,” He mumbled monotonously, rubbing at his mouth. “Lock up after me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t say a thing more as he opened the door of his lap and let it practically slam behind him. There was an arsenal of words racing in his head, all the things he would say to you when he came in and saw you drunk on your bed, giggling without a damn care in the world. Firstly, he was going to rip into you for stealing alcohol and getting messed up on it, secondly, he was going to out for being hypocritical, and thirdly, he was going to ground your ass for weeks to come. But, mostly, he was just upset over how you’d done this entirely under his nose. Hopefully this wasn’t the start of your rebellious teenage years.

The elevator was a snail’s pace and he was fast in bounding down the narrow hallways of his own tower, the tower he let you live in peacefully, the tower he put his blood and soul into. Luckily there was no one wandering around in his path, and if there were they wouldn’t say a word anyways. Tony’s tight lipped, hard featured and evident frown were enough to ward off any ‘hello’s or questions. He knew he should be presentable in his work environment but damn it, he was angry.

Quicker than he’d anticipated, he was face to face with your bedroom door in mere seconds. For some reason he almost expected it to open up the minute he’d arrived, you sheepish and expecting on the other side, but nothing happened. He stood there without a sound for what must have been a long minute or two. Then, he knocked. Once, twice. No answer.

“___?” He called, trying to make his voice sound as even as possible. From beyond the door there was some kind of response, but it was so slurred and garbled he didn’t make out even a syllable. His lips pulled down, jaw set, and that anger was back and better than ever. “___, open the door.” When the door didn’t open, and only silence remained, he sighed in frustration. “Friday, unlock.”

With a metallic click your bedroom door unlocked and Tony shoved it open, ready to tear into you with everything that he had.

“So is this what you do in your spare time now? Steal alcohol and get wasted like some sort of-”

The sight before him was not what he’d expected.

You were not on your bed, covered in a mesh of blankets and giggling with drunk stupidity. You were also not sitting at your desk, half passed out with an empty bottle sitting nearby. Instead, you were on the floor. Leaning against the wall right next to your bed, you sat with your head tucked dismally down and your arms loosely resting on your knees. In one hand was a damn bottle, mostly empty and tipped over, some of its remaining contents dripping out and marking the floor in front of you.

Tony stood there staring at you, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t predicted this at all. He’d imaged an argument, you being a rebellious teen and him being the mean father, but what he got instead was a sinking feeling in his gut and you, his fucking kid, drunk and depressed sitting on your bedroom floor. The room felt thick and smelled like a mix between whiskey and misery, and he absolutely fucking hated that he knew that atmosphere all too well.

All that anger that had been building up during his short trip here was gone in seconds flat, all those crude words and ‘gotcha’s drained along with the color in his face. It hurt him that you didn’t even respond to his words, not moving an inch. He vaguely wondered if you didn’t hear him somehow, and then realized that was probably for the best. Suddenly he felt like an asshole. Here he was, ready to ground you and scold you for being reckless and entirely stupid, and you were suffering alone in your room. His throat ran dry. His firsts clenched and unclenched.

With everything going on, he should have seen this happening. But, he didn’t.

Remembering all that time he spent working on a doomed project was like being punched in the gut. He was perpetually wasting his time instead of focusing you, and because of that you were obviously in a horrible place. A place that he, as a father, should give his all to keep you far, far away from.

“___?” Tony didn’t move from his spot, his voice much softer than it had been moments ago. Like before you remained silent, but this time there was no anger to be felt from it. That dreadful weight only doubled when he shuffled closer and knelt down in front of you. Carefully, his fingers tugged the bottle from your slack grip, and then you finally looked up at him. Your expression was a horrid one.

You were stuck in some sort of limbo, it seemed. Your eyes were detached and glossy, your expression tired yet numb. Tony could see so much pain but knowing there was nothing in that moment he could do to take it away was awful. This wasn’t some sort of robotic problem. He couldn’t fix you, or rebuild you. You weren’t coding.

Tony swallowed, a lump hard like a rock in his throat. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t something he could do. It become suddenly aware to him that this was likely how everyone perceived him during his darkest hours, except with him it was so much worse because he became manic and destructive whereas you seemed to just become… Nothing.

Tentatively he set the bottle down beside him before he reached out to touch at your arm, then he recoiled before he could and let his arm fall in front of him. He didn’t know what to do. Should he leave you be? Part of it him wanted to. He always came back from things like this… you’d be better in the morning, and you wouldn’t remember a thing and he could pretend to not know a thing and everything would be fine. But, he couldn’t. He couldn’t run from this, from you. Even silent and not entirely there, you needed his help. When he started to make another attempt at reaching out you didn’t react at all.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice unsteady. He cleared his throat again. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

This time he took hold of your wrists, standing so that he could pull you up with him. You’d drank a lot evidently, and because of that you pretty much relied on Tony entirely to keep up on your feet. Your knees wobbled weakly and you groaned in discomfort as he moved you, mumbling ‘I know’s at every sound.

“What’re you doin’?” You slurred, though you didn’t try to fight him at all.

“I’m helping you into bed since you drank an entire bottle of my favorite whiskey without telling me.”

“Why’should I tell you?”

He frowned but continued trying to drag you onto your bed. “I don’t know, maybe because it’s dangerous?.”

“You do’it all th’ time.”

Tony actually froze for a second after hearing you. His jaw tightened again, and that little rock nestled at his throat turned into a boulder that he couldn’t swallow down. He’d made an impression on you, and the not the good kind.

“You’re not me.” He whispered, moving again. You didn’t answer but you did groan pitifully when he let you fall roughly onto your mattress, then lifted your legs up on top of it as well. Still fully clothed, he lifted your blanket from the floor (you always were on the messier side) and covered your form to the best of his ability. You didn’t look comfy at all.

You watched him from narrowed, unfocused eyes. “What’s goin’ on?” You managed, though it was difficult for him to make out at first.

“Nothing,” Tony wiped at his mouth and sighed. “Just-... Get some rest. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Even though it was likely you hadn’t heard a single word he said, you still nodded and hummed a ‘mhm’ before allowing yourself to pretty much pass out in your spot. Tony backed away from the side of your bed, his eyes stinging with tears, but he just rubbed them away and coughed out that tremble in his lower lip. Fathers were supposed to raise their kids right, were supposed to make them feel confident and enough to take on the world. They weren’t supposed to teach them to drink away their sorrows.

“Damn it.” Tony breathed to himself. He told himself years ago he would be better than this. He would be a better father than his own father ever was. This didn’t feel like much of an improvement.

He stood in your room for a few minutes longer just thinking, as well as trying to compose himself. The mostly empty bottle sitting on your floor looked like it was laughing at him, and he wanted to break it. He made a quick movement to pick it up the just the feeling of holding the bottle in his hands made him feel sick. Before leaving your room he took one last look at you, fast asleep on your bed, and then he was gone. Of all the scenarios that could have played out, this was by far the worst. He would have rather argued with you than seen you with such a broken and empty expression.

Tony moved much, much slower on his way back down to his laboratory. He took the stairs instead of the elevator. He tossed your bottle into a garbage in a random office looking room that he passed, thankful that there wasn’t anyone around to see him. Most of the workers were in their own rooms since the day was winding to a close and paperwork was a bitch.

When he made it back into his lab, the glass doors opening and locking behind him, he stood in the center of the room with a racing yet muddy mind. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to go to bed early. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning and smile at you, ask you how you slept, and he wouldn’t say a damn thing when you’d shrug and say ‘fine’. At that moment, he never wanted you to see him drink again. He wanted to get rid of every last bottle of alcohol he owned. Just up and destroy them all if it meant you never even had a sip of it when you were feeling low and looking for some sort of escape.

The bottle that still sat on his desk made his stomach churn and he physically turned away from it, instead staring at the lifeless and finally quiet robot he’d been working on earlier. He’d spent so much time on it, time that he should have been spending on you, and it was all for nothing.

Tomorrow morning would be better.

Tomorrow morning he would make you breakfast, a special breakfast that he knew helped hangovers. He’d give you painkillers and tell you drink as much water as you can, and when you’d ask him what for he’d just say ‘because’. There’d be this unspoken understanding where you’d know he knows, but neither of you would say anything. Or maybe it would be one-sided. Maybe you wouldn’t remember anything and you’d just think you’re coming down with something. That sounded... Better.

Normally after breakfast he’d go back into his lab and you’d go off and do whatever it is you were feeling, but not tomorrow. He’d take you to get ice cream or something, like a father does. He’d ask you about your life and what’s been going on lately because he knows you’ve been upset but since he’s an idiot he never asks what. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotions rather it be his or his own, and especially not someone so close to him. He asks you, ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ and you’d tell him no and that would be that.

Letting himself fall back against his chair, it scooted back a few inches before he leaned and stared at his ceiling. Everything was unimaginably calm but he didn’t feel content whatsoever. He felt sick and ashamed. He never imagined you would catch on to his to his ugly habit which was stupid considering how ‘open’ he was about it, and how often you told him it was bad for him.

The thought of you sitting alone in your room, drinking because your father drinks when he’s sad so why can’t you, was hard and cold and left him reaching up to cover his mouth briefly.

Despite not having done much of anything, Tony found himself exhausted. He didn’t want to get up from his spot, not having the motivation or the energy to bring himself back to his feet. It was only 7 pm, but he shut his eyes and let his hands fall to his lap.

“Friday.” He said, and she answered accordingly. “Are there any appointments that need my attention today?”

“As of right now, no, sir.”

“Awesome.” His voice was monotone and tired, and so sad. He nestled against the chair, a mellowness replacing that once fire hot anger. Originally he’d planned to do so much before the end of the night, and he was considering even staying up all night again, but going back to working on that stupid robot after everything would've felt like pulling teeth. So, instead, he mumbled ‘lights off’ and welcomed the quiet that made his ears ring.

Tomorrow would be better, he told himself. Tomorrow would be a better day no matter what.

[falconfriend]

Ninjago holiday episodes:

Ninjagan New Year: episode comes out to honor Chinese New Year, and the weird blend of Japanese and Chinese culture that Ninjago is based on. It’s probably actually pretty respectful.

Father’s Day: a set of mini-episodes. I still don’t know what’s up with Maya and Ray, but I’m sure someone who’s up to date in the series can deal with that.

Jay tries to take his dad on a “guys’ night out,” but then the trailer’s plumbing breaks and they gotta fix it, and on the way into town the bus they’re riding breaks down and Ed gets his nice outfit all covered in oil helping repair it, and when they finally get to their stop Ed lingers on the bus to talk to a robot because he didn’t know they were everywhere in the city by now! And you said you’re a barista? And they miss their stop, and when they get there the restaurant is closed. When Jay finally blows up because he’s frustrated and today was supposed to be perfect, and he can’t make anything go right - Ed stops him right there and explains that this is the most fun he’s ever had. He really just wanted a good night with his son, and they’ve spent it doing all the things he loves!

Cole spends days trying to put together something his dad will like. There’s a song and dance number, just as a concession to him, there’s a card, and he’s gonna make a nice, family dinner, just the two of them. Except then he spots a bank robbery on the way over to his dad’s house, and of COURSE none of the others are answering their phones, so he’ll just have to take this. And he does- but then when he gets home the card in his pocket is ruined, and his dad’s been waiting, and Cole explains himself but Lou’s like son it’s okay, I know you’re a ninja first, and Cole has some schmoopy “no, I’m your son first” and they hug and eat Cole’s terrible chili that they pretend to like for, like, two bites, before Cole suggests maybe ordering takeout instead.

We start out with Lloyd talking with Misako in the morning, a one-sided conversation, before Zane picks him up and they spend the day together. Little memorial services, each of them saying a couple kind words about the other’s dad, going out to get ice cream. There’s a conversation about how Wu was a father figure to Zane but never really to Lloyd but that was okay, because Lloyd got four older brothers and a sister instead, and that’s all he could ask for.

Wu has a very small moment at the end, visiting what remains of the old monastery. Misako is there, probably, not in a Wusako sense but just to quietly put a hand on his shoulder.

Mother’s Day: Jay doesn’t know what to get his mom, because he’s done every DIY gift in the book. Clay potpourri bowl? Check. Decoupage jar vase? Check. Small Rube Goldberg machine to make her breakfast in bed? Did that twice, failed miserably, she loved it anyway.

Jay is super embarrassed by his mom’s insistence on inviting everyone over for dinner and showing off all the embarrassingly bad gifts he’s made her, ugh she’s just so overbearing, moms, amirite-?

Cole, Kai and Lloyd put him in his place real fast and the moral of the story is that Jay learns to appreciate his mom!

Zane Saves Winter (aka The Not-Christmas Special): An ancient, magical volcano has emerged in the middle of New Ninjago City overnight, somehow, bringing with it an army of Magmen Warriors and probably Samukai again! Turns out there’s something Wu hasn’t told you, again. Can the ninja defeat the weird volcano and banish it to some other volcano realm?

Probably! But Zane gets distracted by a little girl whose snowman is melting and helps her rebuild it- and then by a couple who was trying to have the perfect winter wedding, and remakes their ice sculpture five times as large- and no matter how many times one of the others annoyedly shouts “come on, Zane!” he just keeps being sidetracked!

But it turns out Sensei is ashamed of everyone else and proudest of Zane, who saw the chance not to save Ninjago’s day but to save its citizens’ days, and the other ninja area little upset because Sensei we just defeated an entire volcano did you SEE that but also they were being flashy and show-offy and were shown sending volcano-bits flying into snow forts and piloting their vehicles through sled-races so technically Wu’s not wrong.

Then everything was melty and awful but Zane makes it snow the end.

Hanukkah: I know we’re not getting religious winter holiday episodes and I’m not even Jewish I just want this episode so badly because…. Juliens.

This one’s a flashback to pre-Rebooted, the Juliens have invited everyone over for a meal and everything is great. Dr. Julien’s got presents for all the kids even though they’re like 17 or something now. Maybe there’s a brief goofy Treehorn attack to give us some Ninjago-style miniepisode conflict. That is all.

[unapologeticallybella]

The Tower

   The Tower card upright in most tarot readings is one that most people probably would like to avoid, you pull the tower in a reading and it’s kinda like “oh fuck.” In most tarot decks, this card is depicted with lightning setting ablaze to Tower causing obvious chaos and destruction. In the Rider Waite deck, you’ll see people leaping from the windows to escape the turmoil. I mean, that’s technically jumping to your death, which just goes to show how shitty that burning tower must be. If you want to be positive, it could be interpreted as a death to old ways that no longer serve you which is meant to be replaced with better things to take its place. But let’s be honest, if you Google the Tower card the three main words that pop up are Sudden Upheaval, Broken Pride, oh and my favorite, Disaster. We all have tower moments in our lives; they’re inevitable, which is definitely a hard pill to swallow if you’re a control freak like me. I am no stranger to tower moments, my whole life has been a steady pattern of doing okay, then; Bam here’s that disaster you were waiting for. Followed by a period of clean up after destruction and then attempting to create a somewhat stable foundation and rebuild all over again. And yes, it’s just as exhausting as it sounds. 

   On April 1st 2019, I had the mother of all tower moments; my two-and-a-half year relationship ended. Before I get into this, April fools was probably the worst day to get dumped because literally everyone around me thought I was kidding. Like I said, if this was a sitcom, the writers are doing an amazing job this season. When relationships end, typically you see it coming. You can feel someone being distant and cold; It comes to a point where you feel alone even though there’s a person right next to you. Normally, this is something that builds up for weeks and you can feel the love between you and this other person fading for some time before anything actually happens. This was not that. Looking back now, it freaks me out to think how quickly my entire life changed all within thirty minutes; that was all it took to end it all, literally the length of an episode of the Office. Even creepier, only one person cried (hint: it was me.)

   I want to preface all this by saying that I was under the impression that this relationship was “it.” I went into this relationship completely guarded, my ideas about men and their intentions were not positive ones. There were so many reasons for me to argue against ever feeling so strongly about someone; I have always been so inherently distrustful of commitments. I learned early in life that nothing is guaranteed, people’s feelings change, circumstances change, things just change. The concept of people getting married was absolutely wild to me. Aren’t you just scared for your life every day that everything could just change overnight? I made it very clear from day one that I was a skeptic. I mean look around there are so many people on this planet;How could someone possibly just want to pick one person? How could you even know that you met the person you could (happily) spend the rest of your life with? To which his answer was always, “when you know you just know.” Early in our relationship he made it clear that he was more than sure that it was me; I was it for him, period. This man reassured me day after day for roughly 950 continuous days, that I had no reason to be scared. “Why do you always feel like I’m going to pull the rug out from under you?” He made me feel stupid for thinking this had a chance of not working out so after a while that’s what I began to believe. Being able to look at other relationships fall apart and say with certainty, “That just would never be us.” is so powerful. It's cocky as fuck, but that’s what he made me believe. How he managed to turn the most skeptical sinister person into the most trusting believer, I’ll never understand. 

   Pinpointing where everything switched is tricky. We went on a dinner cruise the week prior; he paid for us to go to a baseball game a few days before and we worked together the day before; He brought me my coffee like normal. He annoyed me at work and when he had to leave to his other job; I refused to kiss him goodbye. I just wanted him to apologize and I would have hugged him, everything would have been fine but he never did. He left in a hurry, he said something like, “Bella, I just don’t have time for this today.” To put things into perspective, he was the type of person who couldn’t handle the feeling of someone being upset with him. One thing we said we’d never do is go to bed angry at each other. To the point where this kid would drive to my house after a seven hour closing shift at two in the morning just to say “sorry” and make sure I wasn’t upset before going to bed. I always admired him for that, he was big on keeping peace between us and for the longest time I always said it was those things about him that made our relationship so strong. I’ve always had this overwhelming fear that the people I love could die in a freak accident so for those reasons he always let me know when he made it to work or home safe. This was the first day he didn’t let me know he got to work. Eventually it was two in the morning and for the first time in two-and-a-half years I didn’t get a call to let me know he made it home. 

   I argued with him that night about how I felt like he was being distant during a time where I needed support. Here’s some backstory, my cousin had died early that week from a heart attack at twenty-three which didn’t really help my fears of people around me dying of freak accidents. So I was a tad bit emotionally drained and also anxious as fuck. Maybe I should have waited and let him get some sleep. I could’ve brought it up the next morning over breakfast; Mondays are our days anyway, I could have just waited. Morning came, this was the first time in the history of us that I didn’t get a “Good morning, baby. I’ll be there in a few hours.” I guess that’s when I felt it, that everything was about to change; that tower was definitely on the horizon. I got ready and did my makeup like normal;We were supposed to go look at cars and see a movie. I got a text letting me know he was ten minutes away. I said I wasn’t ready. He said it was okay. When he walked through my door, my Apple watch said my heart rate was at 145. His eyes looked vacant, emotionless, and just not himself. He was never someone I’d call cold, but he never did show much emotion. I knew when things hurt him; I’ve always been good at reading his emotions even when he tries to hide them, but this time I saw nothing. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship and I just don’t see this working out, you’re never happy and I don’t know what else to do.” Right off the bat, that is what he led with. I sat there and explained to this man how all I ever wanted was just to feel supported a fraction of the way I supported him. I tried so hard to convince him I was happy, this could be worked out, that I was just struggling; I asked him to be there for me and the answer was no. It became very clear to me after watching him try to answer my questions about his feelings that he just checked out. One thing I promised myself the first time someone broke my heart was that I would never again ask someone to love me and I sure as hell would never beg for someone to stay. So I told him to get out of my house, obviously a little harsher than that but you get it.

   He asked if he would still see me on Sunday (at the job; I convinced my parents to give him at my family’s restaurant) and I about flipped my room upside down. This kid just pulled the mother-fucking rug out from under me the way he said he would never and he wants to still work with me on Sunday. No sir, you don't get to continue to benefit from all the things I added to your life while simultaneously cutting me out of your life. I swear to God at that point I was like “Shit, maybe this is an April Fools joke.” The worst part is that it was all his doing; he spent everyday convincing me that this was it and I didn’t have to worry anymore. And I believed it. I would have stood by this man through anything, I would have given my life for someone who turns out would never have done the same; talk about a slap in the face, right? He stripped me of any peace of mind, peace of mind that I had worked so hard to have, in a matter of minutes. I was finally safe and at home. I felt for the first time in my life I could breathe like I didn’t have to worry about everything changing. I genuinely believed with my whole heart; Every part of me believed this was my person. I watched him say everything so effortlessly, he didn’t struggle at all watching me break in front of him. Not one fucking tear was shed for me. I swear there were moments where he tried not to smile. It almost makes you sick, well no, it definitely does make you sick. 

   So I said a few things to him that maybe I shouldn’t have, I was just so angry; more at myself for allowing someone to do this to me but nonetheless still angry as hell. “You should see a therapist” to which he agreed. I mean, I guess I’m glad we’re on the same page? When you watch a person you love completely morph into a different human right before your eyes, you tend to just word vomit. I said what I could to wake him up, but he never did. I told him to leave, so he did and never looked back. Less than thirty minutes, that’s all I got. I poured my entire soul and all of my energy into this person, years of my life I’ll never get back. Only to be proven right, it’s like every fear that I had that he laid to rest was now wide awake and pounding on my door. That was six months ago; I never heard from him again. He disappeared, poof, gone like the wind baby. I reached out three times. Once to say, “I miss you.” Second time, I showed up outside his house because everyone convinced me that was a good idea, turns out life is quite different from romantic comedies. I called him to let him know I was outside; I just wanted to say sorry for the things I said. To be honest, I think about dying all the time and what my last conversations will be with other people (callback to my irrational fear of everyone around me dying). It crushed me to think if anything happened to either of us, our last moment together was what it was. He never came outside. Last time I reached out was at the end of April for his birthday, I told him I loved him and how I wanted him to have a beautiful day. And that was that, I never reached out again. Like I said, I’m a firm believer in not asking others to love you, so I left it. 

   I never got any answers, I never got a fair goodbye, to be frank I never got what I deserved. These past six months have been me finding peace with that. Most of you would be shocked to learn that I actually have never looked up his name once on any social media. I don’t want to see anything; I have personally asked everyone around me to keep everything they know far away from me. I know there are things I don’t know; I know it would change the way I remember him and the time we had; I know that I would probably not be as friendly writing about him if I knew what’s out there and I have found peace with that. I don’t need to know the extent to how badly I was deceived nor do I want to. I’m the kind of person who likes to twist the knife in their wounds, fuck I’ll throw a little salt and lime on there too while I’m at it. This is the first time in my life that I stopped it before I even had the chance, some wounds are too big and I just don’t have the energy in me to make them bigger. Surrendering control for the first time in my life has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but that’s what Tower moments are for. They’re meant to change everything for the better even if that means you go through absolute disaster; it’s the start of a whole new you. I lost my best friend that day; I lost my partner, every future memory I envisioned with him by my side, every plan I ever had was snatched right from under me with no explanation. I lost my routines, my comfort, my stability; everything I counted on to be there was long gone. God, I fucking hate change and it scares the shit out of me. There’s a kind of peace in having someone who knows you like no one else; I think losing that peace was the hardest part. I didn’t deserve a single fucking thing that was done to me; there’s nothing I could have done to prepare for that pain, I just had to go through it to get where I am now. 

   I drive over a bridge every day, multiple times a day to get home. That bridge is about 200 feet tall; I’ve crossed this bridge over a thousand times throughout my life and every single time I think about it collapsing. What would I do? What if I jump out and try running super fast, maybe I’ll make it to the end? Or my favorite; jumping on top of the roof of my car and try to ride down the fall, kind of like surfing a wave. I’ve never surfed in my life and I’m also a shitty runner. So no, there’s nothing I can do to prepare for that fall. Chances are, I’ll die if that bridge collapses. This Tower moment showed me you can’t run and you can’t prepare for things like this. You’ve gotta just make peace with the fall and pray there’s a soft landing and if there’s not hopefully, you’ll recover from all the broken bones, eventually. And if you die, well that sucks. But this fall didn’t kill me and that’s all that matters.

[house-of-crows]

Finally Processing Last June

You TRAUMATIZED me.

Nearly a year later, and the first time I’ve REALLY let myself grieve... cry about it, mourn, away from the house away from you.... and I’m starting to realize those lingering pulling sensations aren’t love. And it’s not hatred. 

It’s fucking TRAUMA. 

So let’s address it. 

4/24/2019. 

The day I got my T letter and the very first vial. You sat with me in the fucking office of my endocrinologist and watched me shiver and shake and bawl my fucking eyes out because I really wasn’t expecting to get it that day. We both knew it was going to happen, she’d said it was going to happen, but I didn’t LET myself believe it AND YOU FUCKING KNEW WHY.

I told you, again, that day that I was terrified of getting the rug pulled out from under me. I told you, again, on the way to Target, that I thought I was dreaming. I’d been fighting since I came out for this, one way or another. I’d wrestled with myself, and my partners, and the state of Texas. I did everything in my power, and it wasn’t enough, and then I chose moving in with YOU over moving to fucking California, and fuck~ here it finally fucking was. 

5/7/2019. My first shot. Tuesday night. I remember Villains pt 2 was playing. I was shaking, I was panicking, and you gave me the shot. Helped calm me down after, told me how well I did. I wanted to skip work, but I didn’t. 

Two weeks later and you were DEMANDING I go with you to therapy. 

---

6/5/2019 You told me you were having doubts. That you needed time and space to figure things out.  I took off my ring. It didn’t feel right, somehow. I started wearing it on a chain instead... just like you did. ---

6/7/2019 Therapy session. I thought it went ok, but there was doubt. I didn’t know how to combat it. She was asking leading questions, favoring you, making me out to be unreasonable for having touch as my major love language. I think you’d already decided you were completely asexual, and didn’t want to tell me. You kept stumbling around it, saying shit about mirrors and how you didn’t have desire of your own, you just “borrowed your partner’s.”  I didn’t know how to tell you I’d already put the first payment on a ring. how when there’d been light at the end of my transitory tunnel I’d decided I wanted to propose after top surgery when I FINALLY looked like myself... and ask if maybe, just maybe, we could have our commitment on our three year anniversary.  I never got the chance.

---

6/18/2019 The first of many panic attacks to come. I left work early, walked home in the dark. I was aching, and limping, and I barely got home before you did. I hated myself for how my heart yanked when I saw you pull in. 

I still do.

---

6/22/2019 I spent the day on my bike, trying to avoid you. Trying to avoid everyone and everything. I had three major breakdowns on the lake. I didn’t want to go back to Texas without my name change, and I knew I couldn’t stay in Minnesota without a major change. I was stuck, I was trapped, and gods I was so, so fucking scared.... and the one person I thought I would ALWAYS be able to count on was the one shoving me away.

---

6/23/2019 You told me that you thought I’d murder you; “wake up with a knife to my throat” if you’d ever said anything bad about my transition. Told me you “knew it was irrational” but the fear I saw in your eyes fucking BROKE me, again. 

I’d never yelled at you. Never lifted my hand to you. Went out of my way to tell you when I knew I was being angry, or irrational, or afraid... suppressed my wilder emotions, did my best not to be possessive, or needy, or jealous, to let you choose and keep your own friends not to intrude on those spaces so you had things that were YOURS- 

And it wasn’t enough.  It was never enough. I wasn’t enough.  Not good enough for the other half of my soul.... the one I bled poetry for. Ripped open my wounds and eviscerated myself to deal with the trauma and HEAL and it wasn’t fucking enough. Told you things I hadn’t told anyone, so you could really say you had informed consent before getting into a relationship with me.  ...wrote you love songs.

I should have left the first time you laughed. fuck why didn’t i. I don’t know... I think I should have.  I wish I had.

---

6/25/2019 You trapped me in the car on the way home from Mayo. I was in shock. I wasn’t processing any of it.... just that you were breaking up with me FOR GOOD. You made your decision, it was final, and you wanted me gone. It was real, and it was permanent, and you didn’t want to try anything else. That was the first night I slept on the couch. I wished I’d had the strength to do something, anything, to change your mind.

---

6/27/2019 One of my final appointments for my knee injury. I took you out to a nice late lunch/early dinner. I don’t know what fucking possessed me... I wanted to feel NORMAL.

---

6/29/2019 I asked for a reprieve.  Nowhere was open and there was nowhere for me to go that I could afford. Six weeks... just six weeks, to get my papers and try to get out.

If only it had been that easy.

Somewhere, you shoved me into the basement because you didn’t want to look at me anymore. It was like living in a dungeon. Every single time I fell asleep there, on a stack of foam mattress toppers and random bullshit, I remembered that we were going to turn it into our den. Bright colors, soft things, warmth. Family.  I laid in the half-light from those stupid leftover curtains and wished like hell I could actually cry. I just felt numb in a never ending cycle of panic and fear and numb. Somewhere in there, I called the crisis hotline, looking for a way out.... knowing if I stayed, I was going to kill myself.

You fucking broke me.

---

7/1/2019

Met up with C for lunch. Discussed a lot of things, took my mind off you. It was... not good. But it was better.

---

7/3/2019 Another therapy appointment.  I still wonder if she told you to break up with me. Told you “it’s ok, there’s statistics to back you up~” just based on the shit you told me over those weeks. She told me I should have expected this.  She told me that I should have known better than to transition. The therapist you chose said that to my face.... and asked me again if I was sure I wasn’t really a girl.

I see Breakaway at Ed’s, and dance with C and the Realm. We spend time on the river. Something bit me. Less than 36 hours later my entire arm is numb and I can’t feel anything. 

I end up in the ER, and only by the grace of Sammi... because you didn’t want to help, and you didn’t even want to let them use your car at first. I started to hate you, then.

---

7/15/2019 The first “ok” day I’ve had since the breakup and it was speak with C at 3 pipes. Still upset, still angry, struggling to find my peace. 

---

7/17/2019 Queer Dance Party at Ed’s. I feel free, for the first time in too fucking long. I dance with C and Cam, and something finally slots into place. I’m safe, and I have people who care about me. I spend the night being held, safe, and cared for.

---

7/19/2019 You try to give me an ultimatum. I want to hurt you, like I’ve been hurt, but all I do is go back to the basement. It’s easier, but I’m wishing for the safety and comfort of Anywhere But Here. I ask for my rings back. You seem pissed off that I want them... but fuck if I’ll leave that symbol in your hands when you’ve ripped out my heart so many times over the past two months, with not a single sign of remorse.

I call the Realm.  They agree that I can move in.

---

7/23/2019 My first actual rave, and damn it I looked GOOD.

---

7/25/2019 I was breaking. Shattering under the weight of it all. Struggling to get out, trying to find literally ANYWHERE that would accept me for as long as it would take to get my fucking name changed and actually get back to Texas. I tried so fucking hard to find an AirBnB or a hotel that wouldn’t take my entire top surgery fund. It didn’t seem like you cared at all. You just wanted me gone.

I wanted my life back... ANY life back. And if I couldn’t have the old one, damn it I was going to MAKE one.

---

8/15/2019

My hearing. My name change.

It felt like a hollow victory. We were supposed to be celebrating... you looked like you couldn’t wait to get away from me. I wish it had been anyone there but you... your presence mades me sick, now.

---

8/16/2019

I had my labs at Mayo. C took me instead. I was grateful... but I was shaking in the endocrinologist’s office. How did my life go to pieces so fucking quickly? HOW? 

She asked me if I felt safe at home, and I honestly had no answer. 

Where even was home, anyway?

---

8/21/2019 Last day at the old job, and I swore I was going home to Duke.... and then the bitchy roommate moved out, and there was an empty room. It’s decided no, I will go VISIT Duke, and I will be staying right here in Winona.

I spend the night at Ed’s again, and see Ivory James and Anthony Worden and it was everything I needed right then.

---

9/22/2019

Dev comes to pick me up, and we ride on wings of Nahko Bear and Vienna Teng back down to Texas. I even drove a little bit, fancy that~ And I could feel the Morrígan’s wings spread around me... carrying me.

---

9/25-10/2/2019

I am with Duke, and the cats, and I got to see my friends, AND I got a new piercing. I came come to The Realm, spent time with the Goddess, and started rebuilding my sense of self worth, and unpacking a life. Again.

---

The fall was full of more music, more dancing, learning Flow Art, and picking up; and dropping; a few new lovers. Healing myself in the embrace of others who did, actually, want me. And made it VERY CLEAR that they wanted me.

I’m lucky enough that one of them STILL wants me.

---

Winter passed... I went hiking. I delved deeper into my spirituality. and I felt the Wheel turning under and around me. I’m still standing, fuck you.

---

I was part of a drag show. I dyed my hair. I picked up new skills. I celebrated the Solstice. I started a new job. I got health insurance. I put my life back together and I did it on my own two feet and FUCK YOU for trying to make me feel less. 

FUCK YOU for trying to make me feel needy, and over sexual. 

FUCK YOU for trying to make me out to be an abusive asshole for DARING to need my romantic partner in a physical way.

FUCK YOU for trying to make out my kinks to be abusive.

FUCK YOU for trying to imply that I would ever harm someone on purpose for SAYING SOMETHING TO ME.

FUCK YOU for literally every fucking thing you put me through you FUCKING ASSHOLE.

---

Maybe I won’t really heal until I leave Winona.

Maybe I don’t get to do more than exist until then.

But I’m still going to try.