#they have enough of their own - *gets into a slightly better phase - i should communicate more"

[astfut]

🙃

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

"time will tell" ... but what exactly?

i thought about making this reading because we are living at times when we all know that patience is a virtue, we all know that we should work on said virtue, and so on, yet, things move are always seemingly moving in the fastest chaotic way possible. for some of us, embracing uncertainty and the absurd ways of the universe is hard. so hopefully there's something in here that helps you to have a clearer vision on what is meant to come to you with time and experience.

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune pngs by: @florietas

pile number one pile number two

pile number three pile number four

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ tarot menu

✶ ko-fi page (support and tarot services) ✶

before starting with this reading i just want to say that my heart goes to anyone on the united states that feels disappointed and is going through emotionally stressful situations due to the results of the elections. at times like this is important to find empowerment and safety by taking care of our peers and participating our communities, political organization is just as important as caring for one another. having a right wing president who borders fascism is not a great experience, i have my own alt right president here in south america, but surviving these moments is easier when you find strength alongside the people who share your ideals.

we don't owe tolerance to those who are intolerant, our time is always better spent when we are building the future we want or doing our best to face the adversities of the present. please, do not allow others to take away your humanity and your hopes.

・₊✧⋆ pile number one ⭒˚｡⋆

If someone ever told you that your expectations are unrealistic, they are not wrong, but not entirely right either. I think you're someone who unconsciously tries to be aware of every possible outcome and every single detail, it's quite a hyper vigilant way of approaching things and also a quite anxiety inducing one. I wouldn't say your expectations are unrealistic, but I would definitely say they are realistic in the context of the millions of head scenarios you have going on. Some emotions are being limited by logic and some logics are being limited by emotion. There are plenty of experiences that are coming your way in order to give you the opportunity to be more present in the moment instead of experiencing things mostly in your head. You need time to further develop your judgment, as of now it is something that is in an adolescent state, not because of immature or juvenile thinking, but because you are going through a, hopefully, slightly painful phase of your mental growth. Think of it as existential growing pains. You might have too much information, too much to think about and too much to feel about, it's a very difficult moment for you to maintain a self perceived stable or coherent point of view at all times. Take this time to comprehend what's making you feel paralyzed and unable to move forward mentally, and then you can begin doing something about this conjunction of mental and emotional stress.

・₊✧⋆ pile number two ⭒˚｡⋆

What I get from this combination of cards is that you are becoming more aware of the things that are threatening your higher self. From the Queen and the Page I can see that you are usually almost confident enough in what you bring to the table in terms of material achievements that are easily recognizable, although not always perceived or valued enough by yourself or others. I don't think I want to say there's someone or yourself gaslighting you into belittling yourself, but I do want to mention that it's likely that there's a sketchy energy near you or at least the cards are giving a heads up about negative reactions to you doing your thing and, to say simply, slaying it. What it is safe to say tho is that with time you will learn who is worthy of your generosity and your companion. It's key that you understand that any kind of success you achieve is not only valuable because of what you got from it, the value comes from what you did to get said achievements. With this in mind, don't hesitate to avoid others who drain your energy and misuse your time. Your presence by itself it's already enough for others to benefit at your cost. This is not something meant to give you a reason to be overly distrustful, this is to give you reasons to set boundaries, specially for yourself, in order to make sure whoever or whatever brings you down, it's out of your way. If people see the respect you have for yourself, it's more likely they are not even trying to waste your time.

・₊✧⋆ pile number three ⭒˚｡⋆

.

Being emotionally attached to the person you were in the past is obstructing your path towards further personal and existential growth. I definitely understand that sometimes the only thing that gives us a sense of stability is our own identity, and our power to define ourselves in our own terms. I don’t think you are afraid to grow or to evolve as a person, but I can see that right now you are resisting change by ignoring your intuitive need to expand your limits and find out about all the things, the positive and negative,that you choose to ignore because of old fears and anxieties. It’s very likely you know exactly what to do or what to keep and what to let go off,  you certainly are aware of where to go and how to get there. What's conflicting with your ambitions right now is that you have exhausted yourself by never taking the time to appreciate how far you already are from plenty of situations that have restricted your authentic self. I honestly understand what it's like to make a lot of progress after moving away from tough situations only to realize there is more work to do in order to restore or find an integral state of peace of mind and contempt. In your case, you’re lucky because sooner or later your emotions will lead you to how you can be truthful to yourself and experience life without any of the weight from limiting perceptions that other people have imposed on you. Many things have limited time in our lives, don’t miss out on them.

.

・₊✧⋆ pile number four ⭒˚｡⋆

.

Don't force yourself to be the first to do anything or the best at anything if you're comparing yourself to others. It is not fair to set your expectations about yourself by looking at what is supposably perfect or highly desirable, yet not a true reflection of what you as an individual can accomplish in a way that's genuine to your personal journeys. It's necessary that you embrace your experiences, putting yourself and your own ideals as the guide for what it means to advance and grow. Time will show you how to build a stronger confidence in your core beliefs and how to act upon them with the efficiency and courage you might be needing right now. This will develop as you become more comfortable with allowing yourself to fail, and to learn from said failures by setting structures to support the process of becoming more connected to a higher sense of self worth. You are going through a process in which key communicational aspects are at play;  many of your personal achievements will depend on your ability to share your ideas with others before taking any kind of action, as many things you’ll do will have long lasting effects. This is why I would recommend making sure you can really align your actions, your communication and your goals directly to yourself and the roots of your ideals. Don’t hurry up, it takes time to evolve and you will certainly do so by comprehending how equally confused, disoriented and impulsive we all are, and how that’s nothing anyone can ignore for too long.

.

if you enjoyed this post, maybe you should check out the rest of my account <3 and keep an eye open for ask games and a tarot reading giveaway (but lets not hurry too much about it please im still figuring out the logistics of a tumblr giveaway jajaja)

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page ✶

⋆bookings for personal readings are open ཐིཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

[apexland]

Spared

Bloodhound x Reader 

Warnings! Swearing, Violence

Might be a few errors here and there, still need to go through it properly!

Preparing for the drop every legend had a different pre-game ritual that helped get them in the zone before the beginning of every match, some more questionable than others such as Octane who uses the time for gaming, completely strange but I think it would be more concerning to see him sitting still or the likes of Revenant who always disappears before the drop, Mirage always says he’s away skinning something or doing something murderous. Bloodhound though they have always been a scary legend to come face to face with in battles, before every match they sit sharpening the edge of axe that they always carried along with them. Bloodhound always kept their cards close, never giving much away and I think that was the scariest part, being unpredictable. At least with Dr. Caustic you knew he wanted to watch you die a slow and painful death within his toxic gas. 

My ritual before the drop was listening to music, eyes closed, I found it easier than talking to the people I was about to face off with in the arena - it made it easier to pull the trigger without hesitation. 

As I let out sigh I took out my ear buds, knowing from experience the exact time of the drop, opening my eyes I was met with the blank stare of Bloodhounds mask from across the room the slight red glare that stained the glass looking right back at me. 

I peeled my eyes away once the squads flashed up on the screen. “Race you to the LZ” Octane’s rang out from beside me as we stepped on the platform. I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know we don’t have to race if we are on the same team Silva” He was still jumping on the spot the sound of his legs clanking against the ground. 

“Where’s the fun in that amigo?” 

“Let’s break some circuits” Wattson giggled from the other side of me. “Man, I really need to get a phrase” I said, fixing the strap of my boot, before the floor began to open and we were lowered above the destroyed land of World’s Edge, a chaotic mix of the epicentre that lay thick with snow, the dome that was surrounded by deadly lava - making it all the more scarier to fight near it, one wrong move and you would be cooked.

Octane - the adrenaline junkie that he is decided that fragment west would be the best option. The most popular landing spots amongst old and new legends and the spectators favourite spot to see a quick bloodbath. But, luck was most defiantly not on my side today scouting two floors and still having no weapon was not ideal. 

“I need a weapon” I said over the comms, sighing at all of the ammo that was one the floor but no gun.

“There’s a Mozambique here” Wattson’s voice came back over the comms.

“Hey! Isn’t that Chey’s line” Octane laughed. I picked up a few more syringes and cells before letting out a sigh followed by a quiet ‘dibs’. It was a good gun but nothing compared the dominant R-99 or the Volt, which judging by my luck the enemies would already be kitted with.

We moved to another building but it was long before the sound of footsteps sounded around us. “We’ve got friends here” I said quietly, a glimmer of luck started to appear when I found a hemlock of the lack of heavy ammo was disappointing. 

Wattson had put up her fences, the loud sound of the burning electricity warned the enemies off slightly. I peaked through one of the barred windows, spotting wraith who was focused on another door of our building I took the shot but she was quick to phase away. 

“Careful Horizon’s probably going to throw her ultimate over here” I warned my squad mates but Wattson quickly replied “I’ll take care of that”

“Wattson now!” I shouted as I seen newt being thrown towards us along with the deadly gas of caustic but luckily the pylon zapped them both down.

“Let’s go!” Octane yelled as he jammed the syringe into his leg before speeding off and we quickly followed, “Watch for traps Silva” I said, trying to catch up with him. I spotted Wraith trying to portal them out of the building, taking it back as she got the warning in her head. I quickly placed down on of my spike traps, pressure sensitive that once stepped on will send a deadly spike usually through the leg disabling the legend, which is exactly what it had down to Caustic as he was the next one to appear through the rift. 

Quickly taking him out, not giving him a chance to put down one of his traps as he muttered a ‘damn you’. Focusing back on the other two, Octane was already pushing to the building along with Wattson and taking care of the rest of the squad.

Finally getting better loot, I started feeling more positive about the match until the sound of Bloodhounds scan and us being in range. “Shit” I whispered. “We need to move now!” 

We scrambled back into the building, but Wattson had been took down by a triple take, I looked behind be to see the same stained red glass looking back at me as Bloodhound lifted their head from the scope of the sniper.

Quickly getting to work by putting down traps at the doors, taking a peak out of the barred window I quickly ducked back down as a bullet skimmed past my ear from the same gun that took Wattson out. I felt the blood from where the bullet grazed but my attention was diverted by the door across from me opening and then scream from Loba as the spike was deep in her leg, taking my chance I used the mastiff that I picked up from the other team to quickly end things. 

One down, two to go. 

“Careful Silva, Bloodhound has a triple take” 

Rampart was the next of their squad to reveal herself as I heard the distant sound of a barrier being placed up along with Sheila’s red laser scanning the walls ready to shred someone apart. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I groaned, just as another one of Bloodhound’s scan revealed us yet again. 

“Can you distract them Silva?” Pulling out one of my most deadly traps, once it hit the ground it sends out a wave of spikes that usually without fail impales the enemy long enough for them to need to heal and just the perfect amount of time for me to take them amount.

There was silence from Silva before I seen the green flash of him flying across the other building from his jump pad, that must be the distraction. I quickly snuck out of the building as I heard them both firing at the adrenaline junkie, quickly pulling the pin of the trap with my teeth, I tossed it in the middle of the pair. Octane had went down because of being lasered with Sheila. Getting closer I finished off Rampart, but as I was about to search for Bloodhound, they found me. 

The scary roar of his beast of the hunt sounded out.

Shit

Making a run for it, I didn’t get very far before a bullet got me right in the stomach, wheezing out for air at the sudden impact. Pulling myself up, my back leaning against the wall, the hunter came closer just like a predator stalking their prey. 

They bend down in front of me but as I waited for them to put me out of my misery I felt a hand caress my cheek, confusion washed over me. The hand moved to ghost over the tried blood that had trailed down the side of area and followed the trail on to my neck, goose bumps appearing after every touch. “You fought well, felagi fighter” My heart was thumping, they were so close it was almost making me forget that I was basically bleeding out, which I eventually did but the comfort from the hound made it less painful. 

_____________________________

Waking up in the respawn chambers up, I sat up with haste but immediately feeling the pain in my abdomen which made all of the events from the match flood back to me. Did I imagine it? Did it really happen?”

Then it came to me.

Making my way to the control room, where the cameras got all the footage the process of editing and making sure it’s ready to be aired to the spectators. I knocked on the door waiting for a response before the door flew open. 

“Hey Ezekiel, can you get me my body camera footage from the last match” He looked at me with a tilt of his head”

“Sur- is everything ok?” He asked, looking at me with concern. 

“Yeah, I just missed a few shots and want to review the footage in training” He nodded before turning around and handing me a USB.

“Thank you, appreciate it”

Taking the drive and heading to my room before plugging it in and clicking on the file with my name labelled on it. Skipping all of the footage until I got to the last fight. It did happen and I didn’t imagine it, I closed the screen of the laptop before biting my nail trying to think of what I should do.

Was I overthinking everything? But they didn’t kill me. They should have, like they had done to both of squad mates.

“Hey Anita, have you seen Bloodhound?” The solider was sat down with one of the weapon manuals that was lying around the communal area, building on her already extensive knowledge of every weapon to ever be created.

“Last time I seen them was in the training yard” I gave a quick nod. “Thanks, Anita”

“You’re welcome FNG” Pausing as I looked at her. “I’m not the new one anymore, you said you’d stop calling me that” 

She shrugged at me “It took you long enough to figure out what it meant, you think I am just going to let that go”

 I rolled my eyes at her mumbling ‘funny’, followed by a laugh from Anita “You’re right it is” She always loved when people didn’t follow her military talk, it meant she could basically speak in her own language without anyone knowing it was meant to make fun of them. 

Making my way to the training yard I pushed the door open, there was few other legends training but everyone usually kept well spaced apart because nobody wanted to get dropped in the training yard, that would be embarrassing. 

I spotted the tall frame of the hound, they were on one the last rows.  

Stopping behind them as the Raven’s bite axe flew to the target landing right on the dummy’s heart, I swallowed. Quickly putting my fear aside before I looked like an idiot just standing ther-

“How can I assist you?” Their voice rang out. Of course Bloodhound already new I was here, walking to the target they collected their axe finally looking at me as they walked back to their original standing position. 

“Ah- I just wanted to ask you something” I said, trying to look anywhere but at the intense gaze that was starting back at me. They nodded, giving me the go ahead to continue.

“Why didn’t you kill me” I asked 

“Did you want me to kill you?” They asked, sounding almost puzzled. I let out a sigh “No- I don’t mean it like tha-” I stopped myself, feeling like an idiot I should have just left it alone. 

Bloodhound tilted their head “You know, never mind- it doesn’t matter” but as I was about to walk off i felt a hand on my wrist, stopping me suddenly. “If it is bothering you, tell me” Bloodhound came closer, the close proximity throwing me off once again.

“Like you did with Wattson and Octane” I paused for a second trying to ignore how close they were to me and gather my thoughts “You took them right out, with no mercy- but you waited with me”

“I didn’t want you to suffer” They spoke, the hand came up to push my hair behind my ear, revealing the small stitches on the top of my ear caused from the triple take bullet. The same movement had that they had done in the match brought back the same feelings, causing me to hold my breathe trying to keep my composure. 

Their hand moved to my stomach grazing over the same area of where they had shot me. “The same reason I shot you here, because it would only wind you and the pain would be minimal” 

The touch sent Goosebumps all over my body, my heart hammering in my ears as I looked up at Bloodhound. “Why” I whispered, both of us lost in the moment because we had managed to get even closer barely any space between our bodies.

“You are special, the Allfather has blessed me with you” Their thumb tracing over my bottom lip then falling to my jaw tracing the few dotted cuts on it slowly, “that is why I could not kill you”

[drabbles-mc]

“Get It Out!”

Angel Reyes x Reader (Guest appearance from EZ)

Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: We love a little Injured!Angel having to get taken care of by his girl and his brother. This was technically a Whumptober prompt but I have fallen behind on posting those in order so here’s a little one-shot. 😁 Feel free to make requests!

When you had told Angel that you wanted him to be more honest with you, to let you in on what was going on with the club, this is not the direction that you saw it going in. You just wanted to know why he was gone for days at a time and couldn’t communicate with you. You did not expect to have him turning up on your doorstep, half-draped onto his brother, bleeding.

“What the fuck,” you opened the door all the way and helped EZ pull him inside.

“He got stabbed,” EZ didn’t really know how much he should elaborate—he didn’t know how much you knew.

You scoffed, “Yea I can fucking see that, Ezekiel, the blade is still stuck in his leg.”

The two of you carefully lowered Angel onto the floor. You had so many questions but from the look on EZ’s face you weren’t confident that either of them were going to give you many answers. Blood was trickling down Angel’s leg and it was almost too distracting. It was hard to think about what to do when all you could think about was the fact that your boyfriend was one wrong decision away from bleeding out on your floor.

“What do you want me to do?” you finally managed to ask.

“I don’t know,” EZ replied honestly, “He insisted that we come here because you would know what to do.”

You huffed, “Fucking hell. Alright, um, go grab some towels out of the closet. I’m gonna grab some gauze and other stuff. I’ll see if I can get him patched up enough to take him to a real doctor.”

“No doctor,” it was the first time Angel had spoken.

“Angel,” your voice was firm, “this isn’t a debate. I’m gonna get rid of the evidence of whatever crime was involved here,” you gestured broadly to his whole body, “and then I’m gonna come up with a fake story and get you to an emergency room.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t a question,” you cut him off before he could argue.

You flew up the stairs, heading to the bedroom that you and Angel shared. You looked through his drawers, finally finding an old belt that would do exactly what you needed. You gripped it tight in your hand as you also dug around for an old pair of shorts and a clean shirt for him to wear instead of his now-bloody jeans and his kutte.

Once you found everything that you needed in the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom. You called out to EZ to put the towels underneath Angel’s leg so he wouldn’t bleed all over the floor. You could hear Angel’s voice but it was muffled and you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Surely is was some sort of sarcastic remark. It was probably better that you didn’t hear it.

You rooted through the cabinet in the bathroom until you found some peroxide and gauze. You also grabbed a wash cloth before making your way back downstairs. You dropped all of your treasures on the couch before proceeding to the kitchen. You grabbed a pot and filled it with warm water. You also got your fabric scissors out of the junk drawer, chuckling to yourself that your random crafting phase a few years ago was paying off in the strangest ways now. You brought them out to the living room and set it on the ground next to where EZ had positioned Angel.

You looked over at EZ, handing him the scissors, “Help him get his pants off while I get all of this set up.”

Angel groaned, “C’mon, Y/N, we don’t gotta do all this.”

“You came to me for help, Angel.”

“Just get it out,” he gestured to the blade jutting out of his leg, “Get it out and slap a band-aid on that shit, Querida. I’ll be fine.”

“I say this with all the love in the world, Angel: shut the fuck up,” you gave a pointed look to EZ, “Scissors, jeans, now.”

Angel might be up for arguing with you but EZ knew better. He had yet to piss you off and today certainly wasn’t going to be the day that he changed that trend. He pulled off his brother’s shoes and set about carefully cutting the fabric above and below the blade that was in Angel’s leg, peeling off the piece that was below. The cut off his leg with no issues.

“What do you want me to do with the fabric that’s cut by the knife?”

“Leave it for now,” you were getting the gauze ready, “that’ll be the last piece we take care of.

EZ helped brace Angel off the ground just enough so that he could push the waistband of his jeans down off his hips. It felt foreign to him to try and get his pants off when there was only full leg left of them. EZ carefully maneuvered the cut piece around the blade without touching it too much, but it still made Angel wince and curse under his breath as he wriggled his other leg out of the fabric.

Once his jeans were off and tossed to the side, you started telling EZ your plan. It wasn’t an elegant plan, and honestly if the blade had gotten one of Angel’s arteries there wasn’t going to be all that much you could do for him anyway. So this was your best shot, you just had to pray that it would work as well as you hoped.

“I’m gonna pull the blade out,” your breath shook just saying it, “Then you’re gonna press the gauze hard against the wound to try and slow the bleeding. Then I’m gonna use this,” you held up the belt, “to wrap around it to try and get some good, consistent pressure on it. Hopefully that’ll all work and then we can get fresh clothes on him and get him to the hospital.”

“What about me?” Angel piped up, “What do I do?”

You looked down at him. His face was pretty neutral given the circumstances, but you could see the fear in his eyes. You placed your hand gently on his cheek, “Try to sit as still as possible. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

You looked over at EZ again to make sure that he was ready. He gave you a small nod and you gently wrapped your fingers around the handle of the knife. It wasn’t your typical little pocket-knife, and you were glad they someone had had the foresight to not just yank it out right away. You let out as steady of a breath as you could manage.

“Just get it out, Y/N,” Angel’s voice was harsh but you couldn’t blame him.

“Sorry,” your voice was soft as you pulled it out in one smooth motion.

“Fuck!” Angel screamed and clenched his fists, fighting the urge to squirm from the pain.

You pulled the last small piece of fabric down away from the cut and EZ immediately placed the gauze onto the wound, stifling the bleeding slightly. You took a breath and tried to reassess for your next step. You were going to have to clean out the cut—god only knows where that knife had been before it got jammed into Angel’s leg.

“This is gonna sting, Angel, I’m sorry,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. You lifted EZ’s hands and poured the peroxide onto the cut, immediately pushing EZ’s hands back down again.

Angel’s eyes were shut tight, fighting the urge to let out another scream. He had the towel balled up in his fists, knuckles white. You tried not to think about that as you grabbed the belt, propping his leg up just enough so that you would be able to loop the belt underneath it. He didn’t have scrawny thighs, so it didn’t loop around as many times as you had originally thought it might, but it seemed like so far your plan was working about as well as could be expected. There was no blood spraying everywhere, and it seemed like you would be able to clean him up a little bit and get him to the hospital without him passing out from blood loss. All of those things were huge wins in your book.

You took a deep breath and looked over to Angel, who was a little paler than usual. You gently ran your thumb across his cheekbone before setting about to clean off his leg. You soaked the wash cloth in the warm water and wiped down his entire leg, trying your best to get as much of the dried blood off as possible.

“EZ,” you looked over at him with pleading eyes, “Can you help him stand up so I can pull on his shorts?”

“I can pull on my own shorts. I’m injured, not unconscious,” he sounded bitter.

“You shouldn’t be bending that leg, Angel, that’s all. I know you’re capable of dressing yourself. Don’t start being a baby about all of this now.”

EZ stifled a laugh as he helped his brother to his feet. Angel leaned more of his weight onto EZ than necessary just to make him pay for finding any humor in this situation. Angel did as he was told, though, and allowed you to pull his shorts up. Changing his shirt went much smoother and soon enough he was ready to be taken to the hospital.

They helped him hobble out of the house. EZ was about to guide him back to the pickup but you steered them towards your car. “Back seat is bigger,” you stated matter-of-factly. You and EZ helped ease Angel into the back seat. You hopped in the driver’s seat and EZ sat shotgun.

“What’re you even gonna tell the doctors?” Angel piped up from the back seat.

You looked at him through the rearview mirror, “You work at a scrapyard, can’t you just tell them it was a workplace accident?”

“I mean,” he huffed, “I guess.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and returning your eyes to the road. EZ looked over at you with a smirk, “Not bad for not a doctor, Y/N.”

“You boys and your praise. It’s a wonder I can stay so humble.”

[spicysoftsweet]

For the Last Time - Chrollo x Reader

** NSFW **

A/N: Basically Chrollo pops the news that he’s leaving to reader but not until he does one last thing. 

---

You looked into Chrollo’s eyes, biting your lower lip and holding back tears as you took in the words he’d just said. 

He was leaving again, and this time he wouldn’t be back. Your fists clenched. Should you feel better that he at least warned you this time? No, it was only right that he did because this was a goodbye truly for good.

Chrollo gave you a sad smile, noting the frustration you were trying to seal within and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, steadying your shoulders.

“I’ll always love you.”

Your cup was already too full of the lies he poured into you, and those last few drops were enough for you to overflow. You shoved him off of you, tears swimming in your eyes. He must have been taken aback because he let you push him aside, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed fashion. He was always so relaxed when he riled you up like this, you hated it.

“You liar!” You yelled. “The Troupe? Maybe. Yourself? Absolutely! But you have never loved me, I’m sick of tired of your lies!”

With that, you fell to your knees in a heap and began to sob profusely. He watched you carefully for the next few moments, taking in the sound of your sorrow but almost as soon as you started, he decided he had enough.

“___, get up.”

You didn’t move, trying to wipe your tears with the back of your hands but they were falling too quickly. He knelt down besides you, thumbing the wet streams away from your eyes and kissing your eyelids.

Your pounding, furious heart began to slow for him; his touch always had such a calming effect even if his words did the opposite. But you were still upset, and you communicated so.

“What was it all for if you were going to come into my life just to waltz back out?” You accused. You couldn’t exactly say that you didn’t know this day was eventually coming. He always hinted at it, after all. But still, so soon? He was cruel. 

“You’re right.” His fingers caressed your face again. “I am a terrible person.”

“You are,” you replied quickly, still with a twinge of upset in your voice. He smiled - if you were talking, you could be reasoned with. Or more importantly, convinced. He capitalized on this opportunity as it would be his last one and moved to the next phase of his farewell. He brought you to your feet holding your hands and pressed his lips to yours, reveling in their salty taste from the tears. 

Was it sadistic if he thought your lips were softer and sweeter when you cried? 

His hand traveled down to the small of your back and then beneath the hem of your pants. The look in his eyes was both distant as though he were looking through you and centering as though you were the only person who mattered on Earth.

“I’m terrible enough that I want to taste you one last time,” he whispered into the side of your neck. “I know that you’re mad at me, but will you bless me one last time?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he started to leave love bites down your neck and along your collar bones but you knew your answer was always yes. As he leaned down to kiss your bosom, your hands roamed down to what lay between his legs. Once your hand gripped his firming member, he left your chest sharply with a short, barely audible gasp and went for your lips again, forcing his tongue into your mouth while his fingers curled around your neck to keep your head steady. He was moving forward now, backing you into the wall and your kiss continued to deepen as he caged you in.

You opened your mouth to moan his name and he seemed to force his tongue even further down your throat making it hard to speak. His hand went into your pants again, palming your entire cunt in his hand.

He pulled back just slightly so that your lips still grazed together.

“Take these off for me, darling.”

You did so quickly, then leaned forward to pull his pants off too, greeted by his now fully erect member. You licked your lips greedily and took the tip in your mouth, falling to your knees as you sucked. The soft moan he let out as your lips made contact encouraged you, and you took more of him in your throat, running your arm up and down his chest beneath his shirt. Still moaning softly as you bobbed up and down, he pulled his shirt over his head then preoccupying himself with fingers playing in your hair. You took him as far back as you could in your throat, swirling your tongue around the hard cock in your mouth and he let out a groan before his hands gripping your scalp.

“____, you’re criminally good at this,” he sighed out.

It’s the last time anyway…  you thought, but rather than saying anything, you smiled and rose to your feet to kiss him. He hoisted you in his arms instead, then carried you over to the bed where he could fuck you in earnest. And fuck you he did in a slow, then fast then almost desperate pace. His fingers then interlaced with yours as his strokes got deeper and his grunts more frequent and spaced out. It was a little less like the way he usually ravished you, almost like he too was frustrated.

Like he too wanted to stay. 

Like he wanted you to remember that you were his.

Hovering above you as he delivered his strokes, he tilted you just so, making sure that he could hit you right at the spot that made your toes curl and somewhere deep inside your pelvis burn with a fire that yearned for him.

Stay. Don’t go. Remember me.

Your soft mewls turned into moans as he sped up again. And then unexpectedly, he took both of your legs onto his shoulders and hooked his arms around them to keep them in place, penetrating you so deeply you cried out, tears coming to your eyes.

“Ah! Chrollo! It’s ah-” Your insides quivered and shook, you were in so much of a daze from the influx of sensation that it was hard for you to express what you wanted next. Did you want him to stop? No, never stop.

You continued to cry out his name as he bent your legs further and further back.

“Keep saying my name, love. I want it etched in my memory,” he said in a low whisper.

You tipped over the hill of pleasure into deeper bliss and your lower half started to quake, and immediately, he dropped your legs to wrap his arms around your midsection, holding you tight as you came so hard your peripheral vision seemed to blur. His cock still remained hard inside you as your walls clenched tightly, and he let the waves wash over you before he finally sped up, chasing his own high.

When he finally reached it and you felt the warm gush of fluid jetting inside of you, and seeping outside, he swept the hair out of your flushed face, damp with the excitement from your tryst.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

And you cried because for the first time, you were absolutely sure he meant it.

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (9)

In Which Plagg cuts the Umbilical Cord

Howdy folks! Thanks for the patience! I like to pretend I’m regular with uploads, but we all know that’s not true. And for a little while, it’s going to be worse. I had a gallbladder attack this week, and I have to wait about a month to get it out. In the meantime, I get sick pretty easily from most foods. So I’ve kind of put writing on the backburner. 

Oh, I’m also planning a wedding!

Thanks for understanding and not sending demands for updates!

FF.net | Ao3 

—

Adrien was feeling pretty darn good, all things considered. 

Ladybug, or Marinette rather, had been so adamant for so long that no one could know their identities. It was a mantra he stuck to, though he desperately wished to know her outside the mask. 

With Nino in on the secret, it felt more liberating than he expected. All night, he told Nino stories of his terrible excuses and narrow misses of getting caught. 

“I don’t know how I didn’t catch it sooner.” Nino had said, hindsight being 20/20 and all that. 

And Adrien admitted that he felt dumb for not realizing Nino was Carapace sooner. So Nino’s guilt was lessened a bit by that. 

While the boys talked, Plagg stayed rather neutral. He didn’t divulge any more of his plans or prepare them for what was to come. 

Because he couldn’t. Plagg was preparing for several different outcomes, all hindered on many overlapping factors. He just had to hope for the best for now and not stress Adrien out. 

The kid deserved to enjoy his first sleepover.

—

Being an ancient being, Plagg’s passive perception was relatively high. He noticed things and had an awareness that surpassed most other entities on the planet. 

Though, he rarely acted on anything he noticed, since he could phase out of most danger.  It mostly kept him from being seen by people who weren’t supposed to see him. 

However, alarm bells were currently going off like crazy inside his—or Adrien’s—head. 

Lila was hovering just a bit too closely for comfort. 

Though she was usually the main attraction in a conversation, she wasn’t very good at spying. She hovered, just at the edge of the circle, throwing out plenty of ‘oh, don’t mind me’s, but keeping her eye trained on him. She even followed them when they went out for lunch. Far enough away that no one would notice, mind you, but there none the less. 

Lila was not Gabriel’s muse. She was his stooge. His little puppet. His meat camera. 

As long as Lila was around, Gabriel was aware of every action he took. Who knew what kind of bull shittery she’d pull if he did something remotely different. 

But what exactly was she watching for? Just reporting his change in behavior? 

Had Gabriel suspected too much? 

It was high time Plagg put the next phase of his plan into action. 

But first, he needed to throw Lila off the trail. 

It was after class, and everyone was packing their stuff up and discussing how the weekend had gone. 

This seemed like the perfect opportunity. 

“Hey guys! I taught Lila how to play Magic at the last photoshoot! Anyone want to play with her?” 

The words were like fresh blood in a tank of sharks. Lila was grabbed and sat down at a desk, as she tried to come up with an excuse to leave. 

“Oh, I’d uhh...I’d love to play. But my mom has a doctor appointment after school and she wanted me home...” 

“Oh Lila, it’s okay,” said Plagg. “Don’t feel bad about skipping our study session. This is your chance to really bond with the boys in our class!” 

Lila just sent him a tight lipped smile. 

“Okay, Kim, let Lila use your deck.” 

“What? No! ‘Soul Sisters’ is perfectly crafted and only an expert can really unlock its true potential.” 

Alix swiped the deck from his hand. “Yeah, you build a deck with all the tig-bitty angel wifus. It’s great. Take a break, horn dog.” She slammed the deck down in front of a traumatized Lila. 

Max was her partner. “Don’t worry, we’ll go slow and I’ll explain everything as we go along.” 

Plagg smiled to himself, watching as the boys, and even some girls, crowded around to watch. 

He then caught Marinette’s eye and gestured out to the hall. There was no way Lila could stealthily maneuver her way over to him without drawing the attention of all their classmates. 

In the hall, Plagg took Marinette’s hand and led her away, into a secluded corner of the upper floor. Hopefully, Lila wouldn’t spot them if she tried to do something rash. 

“Is everything okay, Adrien?” Marinette asked, her face tinged pink. 

“Not...not completely. Lila was following and eavesdropping on me all day.” 

Marinette gasped, covering her mouth. “That’s sick!” 

“Yes, I agree. I’m not quite sure what she was looking for, but I’m fairly certain she’s spying for my father.” 

Marinette squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry, Adrien. If I knew how to help...” 

“I should be the one apologizing.” He said, genuine sadness in his voice. He had hoped solving Adrien’s problems would have helped Marinette out, but he worried it would be the opposite. 

“What do you have to apologize for?”

He took her hands, holding them delicately in his own. “I told you that I made a deal with her to get you back into school. But…”

She whispered. “Adrien...” 

He touched her face, ever so gently, laying the charm on thick. “Marinette, I care about you so much, and if I could avoid this I would, but...” 

“But what?” 

“Lila’s made it clear that she’s taking this feud I’m having with my father personally. She’s going to take whatever chance she can get to go back on our agreement. She’s going to go after you again.” He shook his head, conjuring tears into his eyes. “I can’t bear to see you hurt by her!” 

“Oh Adrien!” She gasped, before throwing her arms around him. “Please don’t cry. I can handle her, honest.” 

“I have a plan in motion,” he clarified, squeezing her. “She won’t get away with her lies and harassment for much longer. I just need you to be strong.” 

“Whatever you need, just let me know. You don’t have to do this alone.” 

“I know. Thank you, Marinette. Now, I have to go before Lila escapes my trap.” 

Her smile was genuine and full of gratitude. “I’ll see you tomorrow then! Bye!” 

Eager to take what head way he could get, Plagg pressed a kiss to Marinette’s cheek before hurrying away. 

He missed her squealing and dancing after he turned his back. 

—

“I really dislike that sausage-haired cretin.” Plagg muttered as he walked home. “It’s one thing to lie to get attention, but for her to spy on us all day? Talk about creepy!”

“Thank you for warning Marinette,” Adrien said as he floated by his shoulder. “I agree that Lila is looking for any opportunity to go back to bullying her. I think with the warning, she’ll be able to come up with some way to protect herself.” 

“Nothing against your lady’s ability to find solutions, since that is her job as Ladybug, but I don’t know what kind of back up plan she can have against a compulsive liar. Why is every adult in Paris so gullible?” 

“I have a theory,” Adrien suggested. “They aren’t gullible. They just see a pretty young girl crying and they just go along with whatever she says to make it stop. They just assume she’s exaggerating or something.” 

“Good observation,” Plagg commended. “I agree.”  

“But I think we should put off worrying about Lila for a bit and focus on my father. He hasn’t seen you since Friday morning when you serenaded him. I can’t imagine he’s going to be happy to see you.” 

“Adrien, we’ve been over this. I can handle a grown ass adult throwing a temper tantrum. There’s only two things he hasn’t tried yet, and they’re both pretty extreme. I don’t know if he has it in him. I called his bluff before, anyways.” 

“What two things?” 

“Having me arrested...or getting violent. I dared him to hit me and he swore he never would. I just can’t imagine he was telling the truth.” 

“Are you trying to drive him to it?”

“I’m trying to drive him to a place of ‘I give up, what do you want’? Hopefully we can talk, and he’ll come to see you aren’t a child anymore. As much as I think your dear old dad is capable of being a butt head, I think he’s also capable of understanding. He is a successful businessman after all. Business doesn’t come without a little mercy.” 

“That’s a...way to look at it...” 

At that point, they reached the mansion, and Adrien returned to the pocket. 

Plagg decided not to ring the doorbell, and instead climbed the wall. 

He strolled very nonchalantly up to the front door, and entered, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Then he waited three seconds. 

“1...2...”

“Adrien!” Gabriel rushed out of his office. “I didn’t expect you home already.” 

“Because Lila didn’t text you with my location?” 

Gabriel just stared, slightly wide-eyed and pale. 

Caught red handed. 

“She is spying on me for you, right? This isn’t just her stalking me on her own. She’s not smart enough for that.” 

“I—“ 

“So what? You don’t know how to communicate with me so you go to the only person in my class that I not only dislike, but has a record of compulsive lying? Seriously? You thought that was your best option?” 

“You do not get to lecture me about my choices!” Gabriel barked. 

But Plagg just shook his head. “You make no sense to me.”

“My decisions and actions don’t have to make sense to you. You are my child, and you will obey me! Do you understand?” 

Plagg just gave him a patient smile. Arguing with him never went anywhere, because Gabriel always turned his ears off the second Adrien said something he didn’t want to hear. 

Which was anything that wasn’t “yes sir.”

“I understand what you want. But I can’t give it to you. You haven’t listened to what I’ve said. You’re so caught up in injustice, that you haven’t seen how your yelling has affected me. I’m just pulling farther and farther away. Do you want to lose me for good? Is that what you want? Because that’s the road you’re heading down. I’m 15 now. Three years of this, and I could easily move away and never speak to you again after how badly you’ve treated me.” 

“I do not treat you badly! Have you ever gone without food? Without a soft bed? Without clothes or showers? No! You have it better than most people in this city.” 

“You’re right, I should be without want or need. But you’ve severely neglected my heart. Gabriel, I’m lonely, and sad. I’m disappointed every time you break a promise. I can go anywhere and have food and shelter and whatever, but only you can give me the love of my father.�� 

Gabriel was silent at this, staring at his son, his lips in a firm line. 

“So I’m going to go. I’m staying with some friends for a while. Just to give you a taste of what it’s like without me. If you like it, then, when I’m 18, I’ll leave, and never come back.” 

Gabriel looked to the ground, but found himself unable to say anything. Plagg ascended the stairs, and went into Adrien’s room. 

“I don’t want to leave…” Adrien said, quietly. “I’d rather stay and…” 

“And do nothing?”

Adrien looked away. 

“Look,” said Plagg, directing his chin up. “Your father is a hard nut to crack. We just have to push harder and harder. Do you still trust me?”

“What choice do I have?”

“It’s going to be okay, kid.” He rubbed his thumb over his whiskers. “I promise.” 

He packed up his duffel that he had taken for his sleepover, and came back down the stairs. 

Gabriel was right where he left him. “So, you’re going? Just like that?” 

“At this point, I think it’s for the best. Just for a little while. Give us both some perspective.” 

“You’ll regret it,” he warned. 

“Maybe. But what’s there to learn from if I don’t make mistakes?” 

Gabriel didn’t stop him as he walked out the door. 

After he left, Nathalie emerged from the office. “Your son is surprisingly mature for his age.” 

“No, he’s stubborn. Just like his mother. I give him three days before he comes crawling back.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” 

“Then I’ll make him come back.” 

—

Chat Noir bounded over rooftops at sunset. He had a destination in mind, and getting spotted by Lila or one of Gabriel’s other goons would ruin it all. 

After traveling in circles, he finally reached the Lahiffe house and stopped on the fire escape outside Nino’s room. 

Nino looked up at the sound. “Oh dude!” 

“Nino Lahiffe, the time has come.” Said Plagg in his ancient voice. “This is the Miraculous of the Dude.” He opened his hand to show a single Hersey’s kiss. “You will use it for the greater bro-kind, and let me crash here for the foreseeable future, as I have run away from home.” 

“Dude...” Nino took it reverently. “I will fulfill my sacred oath...but you should probably come in through the front door, and we should kind of explain this to my mom, or she’s going to wonder how you got in the house.” 

“True. Meet you downstairs in five!” 

—

Marinette laid in her bed, eyes trained to the sky through the sky-light, hands clutching a pillow tightly to her chest. 

She sighed.

The sound made Tikki roll her eyes. She knew Plagg was hamming it up, but did he have to be so…charming?! 

“Tikki…” Marinette announced, after mooning for over an hour. “I think…I think I can tell him tomorrow.” 

The words were music to her ears! Finally! “You can do it Marinette!” 

Then a shadow passed Marinette’s face as the worst past through her mind. “But what if he hasn’t been earnest? What if the way he’s been acting has just been to get back at his father or Lila?” 

Tikki almost groaned. “Marinette, Adrien loves you. He really really loves you! The way he pulled you aside today and warned you about what was going to happen with Lila? He didn’t do that for anyone but you. That was real care! The longer you beat around the bush, the more you’re putting off your own happiness. And you don’t want that, do you?”

Marinette sat up, resolve hardening. “Tomorrow then. I’ll tell him tomorrow, and get my happily ever after.”

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Unpopular opinion: stumbling upon something that you were utterly unprepared for, stunned by, and/or comprehended only long in retrospect, is an archetypal experience of the precociously literate child.

Somewhat agree? Okay it’s a long one.

Since I’m getting this opinion on a fandom blog, I am guessing it might have to do with fandom discussions and not just the experience of precociously literate children running through libraries. 

As a precocious reader whose method to find things to read for years was literally just to pick a shelf at the library and work my way through it before moving onto another shelf, who went through a huge WWII phase at 12 and 13 and who thought I was smarter and more mature than the kids my age, I did come across, at times, things that I was unprepared for or stunned by. I particularly remember reading The World According to Garp (a novel I took from my older sister even though she told me I was too young to read it--although at the time I thought she meant I would not be smart enough to *get* it, not that it included scenes where a dick gets bitten off during a blowjob), or mistakenly buying what I thought was a shoujo manga which turned out to be a rape-to-love erotic manga because it was plastic-wrapped and it didn’t occur to me that it could be since my local bookstore which had like 10 different manga had never had any erotic ones before, and (more somberly) reading about the Nanjing massacre, or first-hand accounts of the atomic bombs and the scientific experimentations done during WWII and not being emotionally prepared for how horrific humanity is or just how emotionally compromised you can be reading about suffering. I was “haunted” for years by the image of people trapped in a burning building who started singing for strength and whose singing then turned to screams and silence described in (if my memory serves me right) in Nagasaki no kane. 

That being said, in retrospect and through more recent discussions, I have come to realise that I always controlled my exposure to content very naturally and frequently walked away from social situations where I would be exposed to content I did not think wise to see. This might be because my parents were kind of uninvolved in our lives beside providing for our basic needs which made us take over the role of parenting or because I have been impervious to peer pressure from a young age or just because I don’t care about offending people, but I understood instinctively that there were doors that were better left unopened and things better left unseen, regardless of my curiosity. When kids my age started going on Omegle-type websites to be transgressive and seem more mature, once I understood that this could include suddenly seeing an old man jerking off on screen, I simply choose to step away from their family computer and not get involved--the same way I would not drink alcohol at parties when the other kids were because my father was an alcoholic and I were scared I would become one like him. I never watched any of the “shocking” viral videos of my time when I was a teenager regardless of how much my friends or people at school talked about them (from the top of my head I remember two girls one cup, a filmed suicide and i think a bestiality video that included a horse? ~Just little 90s kids things~). In this sense, my youthful desire for maturity did not express itself in the desire to indiscriminately reproduce or access things that were not meant for children, but a sort of independence both forced and desired which required me to take responsibility for myself and my emotional well-being.

And so the thing with fandom content is that, even years and years ago when I was a kid, while it was easy to find or stumble upon content that was not for children, these things were clearly labelled. And so I was very much able to look at a blog, or a summary, and know, regardless of any curiosity I could have: well this is probably not a good idea for me. Or, if I made it by accident to content that was unprepared for, it was easy to just close the window and continue my day. This sort of “agency” negated any possible unpleasantness for me: yes I did see some things that I was unprepared for, but I could just nope away from there and that was the end of it. Thereby, the worst thing that I could be exposed to was the awareness of the existence of a thing, which I don’t think is in itself extremely upsetting or shocking? So my experience in fandom, which started when I was 12, was not defined by being exposed to things I was unprepared for or shocked by, but more defined by me learning to navigate and decide what I was comfortable with consuming.

So that’s where I struggle with more recent discussions wrt social media and fandom spaces (aside from valid criticisms for example about how people post things in fandoms of properties targeted toward children for instance), because there is this increasing sense that things should simply not exist if they could potentially be shocking to teenagers and children, or hell, the idea that fiction should not include anything slightly problématique/shocking that requires critical thinking/emotional maturity when you consume it. I’m forever shocked to see teenagers blaming adults for producing content they willfully consumed: I keep thinking of this person who has an horror blog who kept receiving attacks from teenagers blaming them for having given them panic attacks because they posted horror stuff... on a horror blog. 

And, I will admit, it’s harder for me to engage with these discussions because I can’t put myself in the shoes of a teenager (or even sometimes young adult) who lets their curiosity or immaturity or whatever else impulse make them engage and continue to engage with content that is upsetting or harmful to them. I just can’t--I can’t stretch my imagination that far. My gut reaction is not even to say that it is a parent’s job to monitor their kids’ use of the internet, because from my own perspective parents were never even part of that equation. But I do believe that while the argument that content meant to be consumed by adults (either because of the complexity of the subject matter or because of its sexual nature) should not be made or shared on the interwebs To Protect the Children is incredibly exhausting, precociously literate kids or teenagers on the interwebs should not have to have their experiences defined by constantly being exposed to content they were unprepared for, shocked by or are not able to fully process. 

Although, to be again perfectly candid, I am admittedly less worried about kids stumbling upon porn by accident (which is easy to recognise and which they can exit from easily with a click or by scrolling down) than I am by the existence of internet communities that encourage cult-like behaviours or aggression and bullying, or by the existence of seemingly “harmless” content that can lead to incredibly damaging behaviours (like all the “fitspo” and “detox tea” and “what to eat in a day to lose weight” kind of content that 100 percent encourage and create ED behaviours). Those things are more difficult to recognize as potentially upsetting or harmful than a lot of other stuff that kids should not interact with.

[geniusinventora]

This started off small, but became a REALLY long post. So. Let’s talk about how Gyro talks to people and his general socialization skills. 

Under a read more after a point because well, this is going to get VERY long. There are a lot of aspects to this that just don’t come across unless you’ve spoken to me, or you over analyze how Gyro speaks in the show and in the comics.

Gyro has a very hard time getting the meaning he’s TRYING to achieve come across. Like- he wasn’t really socialized until his late teens. His only peer was his brother who he fought with constantly.

Gyro is just very, very bad at communication in general. He will say what is on his mind, how he thinks it with nearly no filter. While he does sometimes try and make things come across better, it doesn’t always work. It’s somewhat of that trope “He assumes people are smart enough to figure out what he’s saying”, but... not? Because it’s not like he’s trying to be pompous about it.

Miscommunication and hostility just come with talking to him. It really takes a lot for him to not be quite honestly inept at social interactions. It’s why he likes talking to close friends, or people who know him, and will almost always let someone close to him translate for him. Eventually people learn that the rudeness, sass, and his quickness to anger aren’t always purposeful or even noticed by him about 99% of the time.

. . .

The notecards that he uses in the first episode are actually something he’s had for... well since he was working with Scrooge. While he was somewhat socialized with people while with Akita, FOWL was a... unique work place. There wasn’t a precedent on how to act or react; just respect heron and bradford. And respect from Gyro is extremely hard to come by, partially because of how he was raised. Gyro doesn’t respect people, but if they do something wrong they lose it. Gyro respects NO ONE until they prove they should be respected, and then he does. It’s really ironically like how he was raised, though he’ll never come to make that connection. 

People he respect, or value, or become close with he TRIES to be better at talking to for a time. There’s an awkward phase will he will attempt to fix how he talks to a person- adjusting verbiage, colloquiums, and slang in an attempt to understand how they talk to him. Most of the people in the Duck Family are either in this phase, or past it. Where you can get him to notice that things he says aren’t always okay. That actions he do aren’t okay. He’s much more open to being corrected at this point, and while he won’t say thank you, will appreciate it. He doesn’t always change HIS speech, but he does clearly speak and treat the people in this category different than he treats about 90% of the population.

There is a very small circle of people, however that are past this. Gyro feels like he can TRULY be himself around them, and rather than caring about how he talks, he does the opposite; he just speaks as himself without worrying. It’s near identical to how he acts when he doesn’t respect someone with a huge difference. All it takes is a comment- sometimes a WORD to get Gyro to stop and re-evaluate everything he had said before he was stopped, and actually tries to correct himself and his behavior. While he is not trying to change or alter his own self, there’s just an understanding between him and the other that he just is like this. He doesn’t need to change, but he doesn’t expect the other to either BUT he does actually value their input, and doesn’t want to upset them. It’s mutual respect, at least from Gyro’s point of view. 

While within canon of the show, really the only person we ever see him speak to this way are Scrooge, and at the end of Astroboyd Fenton. Those are the 2 pure canonical ones that he will, should either of them point out he is taking things too far, or being rude, or anything will fix his behavior near instantly. Fenton will still get sass, and Scrooge being far more respected is due to his history with Scrooge, and the fact he wants to prove he was worth saving. Fenton... well that’s a peer. He doesn’t feel like he needs to be formal with him.

Within the canon of this blog though, there are a few people he respects. @lunarspeared​‘s Della is obviously one. Following the idea that he did spend 5 years with the Cousin Squad due to Della dragging him into it- then everyone in Cousin Squad he holds that same respect even if they aren’t close. This can lead to really interesting dynamics... especially if particular members of Cousin Squad don’t like him. He will no matter what though, take any and all advice that the cousin squad gives him. In some instances (and what’s been plotted with Ash, Oreo, Zak, and others) the Cousin Squad made notes on his cards- symbolically showing that they have just as much respect and value in Gyro’s eyes with their opinions and advice that Scrooge does within Gyro’s reasoning. Della, Donald, Gladstone, Fethry, and Scrooge being the ones who he relied on the most to learn to properly communicate.

@livesforgttn​‘s Black Heron and @tunnagan​‘s Bradford actually hold this respect, however as time passes it slowly starts shifting. @voidfcllen​‘s Gladstone also holds this as well. If you’re extremely close with him, and he’s spent a lot of time with an individual who has learned to see past the surface level of his words are usually the only ones he respects at this level.

Depending on his specific relationship with the triplets, the AU, and how it’s plotted he might have this with the kids. Really, it depends on how the children ask, if they respect him- if they’ve had more interactions than just what’s shown in canon, and a lot of other factors (whether or not he’s dating/married to Della or he was ever close to Donald). There are a lot of factors that I won’t actually force on a person, but would leave up to them if they wanted certain dynamics.

That being said, respect can be lost and gained tenfold. While there are extremely subtle differences in how he speaks and acts around the people he really trusts and respects- sometimes if you don’t really know how I play Gyro it can be very subtle to see. It’s why I’ll go to people and cry about how he’s being secretly soft, despite not seeming that way at first. Because of that, unless you know how close Gyro views a person, it can just look like there are some he’s slightly awkward around, but

Gyro’s also been lying for nearly all of his life, over some very very big things, down to what his favorite color is. Gyro is not a trusting individual and sometimes will refuse to ever be truthful with someone should he feel like doing so would put him in any sort of danger. Danger being mental, physical, or just situational of course. He really does follow the “look out for myself” philosophy, and lives by it to a dangerous degree that can make getting to know him hard. Which ALSO leads to problems in communications because he will always favor making himself more comfortable than whoever he was talking to. You know he likes you when he makes an effort to make it a more balanced in making sure neither party is upset by what he says, or by avoiding conversations that lead to possible conflict.

That being said, Gyro doesn’t “open up.” He doesn’t just start telling his whole life story, or feel like there are big truths to him. At this point he honestly cannot remember what secrets he are keeping. They’ve become such an integral part of who he is, he forgets that they are actually secrets at all. The Gearloose family, the fact his father disappeared, Tokyolk, FOWL, Bradford being the Director for FOWL, his feelings, his full name- There are a lot of MAJOR secrets that he keeps. Ones that, depending on where he is on the timeline, can cause more damage than good should they come to light.

His opening up to someone is the small truths. How he likes his coffee. Someone knowing his sleep schedule. Where he lives (cause no, its not at the lab.) He doesn’t see himself as the lies that he tells, or the secrets he keeps. He sees himself as the small details of himself that, unless you know him well, someone would never know. THAT is who he is, and if someone sees him that way he usually is very close with them. However, it can break the friendship/relationship if they begin to hold him and view him as what secrets he keeps because they are automatic for him. It takes little effort to lie to anyone about anything. When he hesitates or choses to be honest and show himself is what he considers opening up.

The exception to this is whenever a child is HIS child shaped. He will (nearly) never lie to them, and tell them the truth should they ask. The primary reason for this is because of how Fulton raised him. Gyro recognized that Fulton was hiding his intentions a lot, and because of that there was never a clear lesson or take away that Gyro got from all of the lectures he received. Because there was no reason behind “Inventing is bad”, he chose to ignore it. He doesn’t want a child of his to follow down the same path he did- so he will be OVERLY clear and transparent should they ask him. Any intentions, ideas, beliefs, or reasonings they want to know, he will almost always tell him. The only secret he would consistently keep is FOWL, but that’s more dependent on the timeline of the AU.

And, unfortunately these are not consistent across all verses. Any universe that Gyro is parent shaped to the Triplets (as in, from the time they hatched to show time) he is a lot softer! He understands how to be more personable, and caring towards the people he loves without being outright malicious unless it’s necessary. 

Alternatively, any universe where he’s even MORE isolated than in canon (Crossed Paths, FOWL Demise) or has some other circumstance affecting his mentality and being in some way (Taken, Dark Impetus) will make all of this much worse. Becoming more friendly, or taking the steps to actually try and have that in-between state that allows them to know he is making an effort for them can be all but gone. In other cases, he might actually just- not care at all. He doesn’t have what little empathy that canon Gyro does, and so therefor has never CARED if someone has bothered to try and understand him or takes his words at surface value.

Because of this, some universes he is much more... blunt than he is in canon or the blog’s canon. The Notecards that Scrooge gave him when he first began working for him were a HUGE help. @scroogemcdork​ and I have talked about it a lot. Scrooge was the first positive, influential work environment that Gyro had ever been in. He had NO IDEA how to act, speak, or really do anything. The cards were there as a crutch to help him learn what situations need a specific amount of tact. While they were slightly there to help him, he ended up valuing them a lot, and just kept them.

In fact, he usually keeps them on him at all times. Him using the notecards usually is a non-verbal (ironic, huh?) cue that Gyro is completely at a loss for how to treat someone, how he should speak to them, or how he wishes to present the ideas in his head. It usually, while at first APPEAR to seem respectful because he is attempting to be respectful it’s really the opposite. Gyro’s biggest disrespect he can show someone socially would be to use the cards on them, and to communicate only through those. You can usually tell when he is, because he starts sounding more empathetic, and uses words like “Sorry” and gets perspective on other people’s emotions and possible reactions.

If he’s using the cards on you, 90% of the time it’s either because he isn’t sure what to say, he’s being FORCED to be respectful, or he just doesn’t think you’ll ever understand the intentions he really wants to get out of what he knows he would say naturally.

Gyro usually is overly confident in himself and his abilities, however the one he knows he lacks is the social skill. He knows FULLY well that he is AWFUL at communication. He doesn’t hide that. In fact, usually he just either lets someone determine how their relationship with Gyro will continue. If they stop talking to him, then that’s on them. He has more confidence in himself, really thanks to Della (and the cousin squad if they were involved in specific plots), and in his eyes he has come FAR from where he was before.

Really though, in the end we only see him in ‘17 when he’s first using the old, worn down cards to present ideas to the Board. Something that has happened numerous times. Something that Gyro and Scrooge have obviously talked about before. He didn’t get that he was being rude or demeaning, and was forced to use the cards. He’s been extremely rude and socially inappropriate to Donald, the kids (never using their fucking names), Fenton (office bathroom. Need I say more?) and many other people we see in the show. 

Conversely we see him being extremely kind to Lil Bulb, and Boyd, and Fenton (after Astroboyd). It’s clearly something that he CAN be, however it seems to be that the relationship that someone has with him will change how he acts DRASTICALLY.

People’s reactions to him (standing up to him, cowering, ignoring his rudeness, trying to politely correct him, etc) will affect how he sees them. In the end, while he does act like a dick, the intentions and meanings behind so much of what he says. You either have to be close to him to know that while he is being an ass, it’s not entirely his intention... unless you’ve annoyed him but that’s how it is with anyone.

The longer, closer, and deeper a person gets to know Gyro typically is when I start seeing that they can see past the sarcasm, the sass, and honestly the cruel way he can sometimes act. Comments of violence, anger, and resentment that he’ll never act on or doesn’t even have being ignored, he can be rather telling if you read between the lines of what he’s saying.

And it only took me nearly 2 years writing him to be able to completely figure all of this out. So I hope you enjoy the quick guide- and yes I mean quick guide to Gyro and his miscommunication issues.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Painted Souls Part 6

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Nothing I can think of. 

Author’s Note: I know this should have been posted earlier. Here is a bunch of moments of Elijah and the reader getting to know each other. I hope you guys enjoy it! ♥

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

"I still can't believe we've met before this." Y/N said as she shook her head slightly.

After the initial shock between the two, they managed to head over to the picnic area where Elijah set up a dinner for them. The meal had been made right there at the cabin. While Elijah cooked, and Y/N helped, they talked about several things.

They talked about how much their lives changed after that party. How Y/N had gone to her first showing a few weeks after that. She went into detail about how much it had meant to her and how much it had excited her to see all the work there. Elijah loved that she had been painting ever since. And if memory serves him right, it was around that time he began seeing paint splatters and strokes appear on his skin.

Elijah spoke about how he wanted to follow his father into the law profession. While he didn't know what his specialty was going to be, he tried to keep his options open. Elijah talked about how there was a time or two that quitting and changing majors was a high possibility,  but ended up finding ways to keep on track. Y/N loved how much he lit up at speaking about his profession. It didn't matter if it was something simple or something chaotic that happened in the courtroom, it was nice to see him smile as he was in that moment.

They had been talking about everything and anything under the sun to get to know one another. But it was as her eyes landed back on the tree where their names were carved, the memory wanted to play itself over and over again.  

"It makes me wonder if Rebekah remembers you." A smile pulled at his lips.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring up Celeste just yet. There was a reason they hadn't remembered meeting each other. Their lives may have been intertwined from one moment to the next, but they were very much on different paths in their lives.

"It was so long ago. A distant memory that I only remembered because of being in familiar surroundings. I won't hold it against Rebekah if she doesn't remember."

"If she remembers, I'll never hear the end of it." He said with a shake of his head. "I've had a chance to know you, and I refused to see it."

"Remind her to go easy on you." There was a softness in her voice. "We were young. No one was going to force us into a relationship at that age. We weren't the same back then, either. Our lives were so different. It makes sense for us to get to know each other now.  Otherwise, we would have had this notion of needing to be with each other."

A brush of a smile pulled at Elijah's lips before it left. "It would have saved us the heartbreak if we didn't wait."

Y/N reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "Without that heartbreak, we wouldn't know what we needed to prevent it from happening again." Y/N had enough heartbreak in her life as it was. Even though she hoped she'd meet her soulmate, it didn't mean she couldn't date.  "Whatever it was that put you through that heartbreak, I wouldn't dream of doing that to you."

He chuckled at that. "I would hope not seeing as you are my soulmate." Her eyebrow raised, and before she could ask what he meant, he continued. "My ex, Celeste," He sighed softly. "she met her soulmate and left me. We had made this pact, that since we had worked so well together, that we wouldn't look for who was on the other side. Four months later, she met him in one of her classes."

Y/N swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat at the words. "It was why you never responded."

She was always curious as to why Elijah had never responded to anything on his skin. The random memos or failed attempts at communication, and the ideas that she would write on her wrist had all been left unanswered. The answer she never knew she needed was finally answered.

"Believe it or not, I was always curious about the painter that was responsible for the markings on my skin. I just never worked up the courage to respond to anything." He noted as he turned his hand over and took hers. His thumb running over her knuckles. "The day Celeste left, I remember seeing a message from you on my arm. You had an art project due, and you wanted to let me know you'd give me a break from the paint soon."

Y/N smiled at that. "I remember writing that. I kept thinking whoever was on the other side was hating my final's week. I figured a note would be better than wondering when it was going to end." Since he had been honest about his previous pact, it was only fair she was open with him. "I thought that there wasn't anyone on the other side after a while. I was beginning to give up."

For the first time since meeting Y/N, Elijah's heart dropped at her words. He never thought of the possibility of what his pact with Celeste would do to his soulmate.  He had ignored her altogether, leaving her believing there was no one there for her. Even after Celeste left, he refused to make contact for fear of another broken heart.

"I apologize for making you feel as if you should give up." He knew there wouldn't ever be the right amount of words to make this better. But apologizing was just the first step.

Y/N shook her head. "No need to apologize. We were obviously meant to meet again. And speaking from my point of view, tonight has been precisely what we needed."

It was what they needed. It was a chance for them to get to know each other. It was a chance to hear about their pasts in a way that no one else would understand. No matter how bad they had been hurt in the past, they were being mended by the other's presence.

"I believe you are right." Elijah gave her a smile, one that Y/N couldn't help but smile in return. "Here is to more nights of getting to know each other."

"I'll drink to that." She said as they each reached for their glass. They raised them to bring them together, the glass clinking as they met. The moment the glass clinked, it was followed by a roll of thunder from overhead.

As they looked up at the sky, their brows furrowed. There wasn't supposed to a storm tonight. Yet they could see dark clouds making their way to cover the sky above them.

"We should probably get this picked up." Y/N suggested.

Elijah nodded as he began standing. "The porch has enough cover to continue over there."

Y/N followed suit and helped Elijah collect everything. It wasn't long before everything had been collected and began making their way towards the cabin. While Elijah put everything in the kitchen, Y/N had found the porch swing and couldn't help but gravitate to it.

Her fingers ran over the white wood of the swing. The wood was newer, indicating that it had been replaced at some point in the last few years. But that didn't stop the familiar feeling wash over Y/N again as she looked out at the surrounding area.

Y/N and her father sat down on the porch swing. Y/N had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the other kids run around. Being ten and moving to a new town was hard enough. Going to a party where she didn't know anyone made her feel alone.  It made it hard for her to enjoy the party going around her.

"I thought you loved parties." Her father said as he placed an arm around her, trying to comfort her.

"I don't know anyone here." Y/N's shrugged her shoulders.  "We had to come here because you needed to speak with Mr. Mikaelson."

He chuckled as he looked down at her. "This was more than a business thing, Y/N/N. This was a chance for you to make some new friends." He looked around and began pointing out each child. "Over there by the cake is Rebekah and Kol. Helping Esther is Finn and Freya. And Elijah is currently pulling Klaus off another kid." His brows furrowed for a moment before the kids all started laughing.

"Are they even going to go to the same school as me?" She asked as she looked up at her dad. She didn't see the point in knowing who they were if she wasn't going to see them after today.

"Unfortunately, they won't be." He said with a shake of his head. "But that doesn't mean you can't make friends with his kids and make plans to meet up. I'm sure there will be several opportunities to so. "

"What if I become friends with them, and then we move again?" This wasn't the first time they made a move that benefited her father. She had lost count of the number of times they had.

Her father sighed softly. "Something feels different this time." He promised. "We'll be here until its time for you to leave for college."

That 'something' that felt different wasn't wrong. Y/N's family hadn't moved again. Y/N had become friends with Rebekah that day and even her older brothers. But in the weeks that followed, they lost touch. The main reason being a trial took a turn for the worst, and her father was fired from the firm.

As her memory played, she hadn't realized it had begun raining. The sound of the rain hitting the ground hadn't phased her. Even as she moved towards the front of the swing to sit down, she had been lost in the memory, she didn't hear Elijah coming her way.

"Looks like we made it just in time." He noted as he watched her take a seat on the swing.

She looked over and smiled at him before really noticing the rain for the first time. "The first time I saw this porch swing, I remember being envious that you guys could sit here and just watch the rain."

Elijah chuckled and walked to sit beside her on the swing. "My mother and I used to come out here and just listen to the rain while we read. At first, it was that she would read me stories, and as I grew, we each began reading on our own. "

"Even more reason to be envious." Y/N chuckled.

"I believe you have no more reason to be envious." A smile pulled at his lips. "You are more than welcome to come here any time you want."

Her smile grew at that. "Are you trying to keep me here, Mikaelson?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Maybe not keep, but seeing as this cabin was given to me by my parents, this could be somewhere we could escape to if you'd like."

Her face fell slightly at that. "Do you need many escapes?"

His head tilted from one side to the other as he thought about it. "Not often enough. Being a lawyer has its moments. But we are about to take on a case that I am sure I am going to need a few escapes from."

"Am I allowed to ask about the case?" Y/N knew several cases were off-limits. Some times her father could talk about them as long as he didn't give details.

"Unfortunately, this one is still in the works." He noted.

"As long as there is a place to paint, I'd happily come here for an escape." Y/N said with a nod.

"I think I have the perfect place." Elijah nodded his head before standing up and holding his hand out for her to take. Y/N eyed him for a moment before taking his hand.

Elijah led her into the cabin before heading up the stairs. As Y/N followed, she took in the details around the place. Pictures were hung on the walls as best as they could be. Each one held a different moment of the past with the family. Y/N was sure that Elijah hadn't changed a single thing since they were kids.

As they reached the second level, he opened the first door on the right. A majority of the furniture had been covered by white sheets. As Elijah stepped further into the room, he pulled off a dust-covered sheet, revealing an easel.

"This was Klaus' painting room." He said as he turned back and took in the shock on Y/N's face.

Her eyes were wide as she took in the room. The easel had been in a perfect spot. Even with the clouded skies outside, the enormous windows gave off enough light into the room. As Y/N walked over to the windows, she took in the view. The woods that surrounded them had looked amazing from that spot.

"I can see why this was his painting room." She said as she looked over at Elijah. A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. "You know it's going to take a bit to convince me to leave this room if I have a canvas and paint, right?"

Elijah laughed. "I'll definitely keep that in mind. Though I've learned a thing or two on how to get my brother out here."

"You are about to learn that you are going to need to learn different tactics to get me to stop painting." Once she got lost in her work, that was it. It usually took Elena and Caroline to place a plate of food in front of her face to stop and take a break.

"I look forward to learning those tactics." His smile never left his face. He was definitely looking forward to getting to know her more.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @yaniiie

Painted Souls Tag: @inmylifeilovedthemall​ @graciejunie​  @this-is-mycrisis​ @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit​ @violentmommabear42 @ignorantly-apathatic​  @carostar2020​ @shanty-lol​ @generallyclumsy​ @gwenawesomeness @x-memi12 @misunderstood-shadows​ @krazykatkay456​ @emilymarie105​ @insertcooluser55​ @firedancernix​ @tuliptx​ @kpoplover1306-depressedgirl315​ @giraffelover2309 @fading-mentality-boquet  @sincerelykay12​ @dpaccione​ @castofstrangerthings​ @twigstar18​ @colors-for-theworld-please @foreverlostindreams​ @petraballins​ @sorrowfulfragmentation​ @tattoedraven1022 @heartjoohoney​ @bitchingkeres​ @jemimah-b99​ @athenamikaelson​

Stag Tag:   @elejah-wonderland @cheers-my-dears-16 @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @alien-sida

Bold tags mean for one reason or another I cannot tag you in this. If you would like to be added to, or taken off, please let me know♥

[c-atm]

Hometown and City

Hometown & City

"I should really get a car." HB muttered to herself as she jogged towards LHW R&D. A look of determination and concern as she did. Peridot text was usually long winded speeches of how great she was because of their current achievement in whatever project they were working on, but there were exceptions when Peridot words were straight to the point..or even cryptic. Usually, when something was about to go down. She looked down at her phone again, at Peri's text…

P-dottie: Something's coming through. Assault spheres on standy. Get here now.

There was definitely something going down tonight. Part of her thought she should call Lion back with the younger duo and she mentally kicked herself for it. 

"Come on, Maheswaran. We don't even know if the thing is an enemy...Don't ruin their fun for a possibility" 

Demon hunters or whatever they may be, they were still teens, her 'younger siblings' and they still deserve to have a time out to enjoy themselves. 

"Still.. better safe than sorry."  

She smirked as she turned the phone to her home screen. The background which was once a picture of Mister in costume during their empire excursion, her new save screen; were replaced by a picture of Witchy, Dapper, and Mister each snoring on her couch after a long winded night of gaming. She happened to walk in on them after returning from R&D and almost giggled at the sight.

Dapper and Mister slept in almost the exact same  position ; head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth slightly opened, controllers on the table. 

The difference?

Mister hands being in the playing position while Dappers right hand rested on the waist of Witchy intertwined with her own hand. Witchy was curled up, using Dapper thigh as a head pillow. Her feet were lightly pressed against Mister's leg. 

She remembered she changed into her houseware before snuggling next to Mister, only for him to wake up and sit her on his lap, holding her around her midsection, before welcoming her home, leaning her head on the crook of his neck and falling back to sleep after kissing her temple. Such a homey feeling  it was.

She shook her head to focus on the task at hand, pressing the diamond Icon bring up the insignia the diamonds, she pressed on the pink diamond at the top of the screen. The diamond communicator app, only available to phones jailbroken or made by Little Homeworld R&D or Homeworld R&D.

She waited for his phone to ring as she continued her way about to turn on to the street LHWR&D stayed, when she saw Garnet and Pearl chasing someone little gem in a cloak out of the building, weapons drawn.

"Come back here!" Pearl ordered to no avail. 

"No, I didn't do anything!"

The lilith gem, in annoyance, readied her spear before launching a concentrated blast of energy, with all intentions of poofing the gem.

The gem looked as the blast got closer before her reflexes kicked in, leaping out of the way in the last moment. Grimacing as the blast licked her arm, a glancing blow. She growled but turned to run only to  feel her legs slipped from under her and land on her back. She didn't even get to grimace when she felt a weight on her chest. Opening her eyes to see Connie and the gems glaring down at her, the human straddling her stomach and her blade in her face. A steady cold eyes meeting her own.

"That's enough, stand dow-"

"Bi..Big sis."

Connie stopped when she heard whimpering from the gem. Removing the hood of her cloak, the three crystal gems gasp at the oh-so familiar purple face staring back at them.

"Amethyst?" Connie glanced at the purple on black eyes, the purple circular marking on her cheeks and the horns on her head...Things that place Dapper in her head. "You're a demon… You're Dapper's and Witchy's Amethyst."

Connie climbed to her feet almost instantly sheathing her blade. She held out a hand to the demoness and an apologetic and shameful smile on her face. " We have some things to discuss."

"Like, why'd you're so much taller, scarier and filled out?" The demoness looked up at her as she took her hand.

"Among other things.." Connie joked as she helped Amethyst up, just as she was about to introduce herself two things happened. Steven returned her call finally, and….

"Well, little witch. Sorry, I guess you aren't so  little now huh?.. How long have you been here?" The four turned to a figure on the roof of the R&D building perring down. 

He was a fine dressed gentleman, admittedly. Nice white and red checkered collar shirt, white jeans, black heeled pointed toe flats. He also had reptilian green teeth, yellow beady eyes, tan skin and was boney; near skeletal. The way he looked at Connie put her on edge.

He spoke in a slick and almost adoringly voice. "You look like you aged a bit, but for me..not even a half-hour passed since we met…"  Anger slipped in his voice as he grabbed his collar revealing his third degree burnt collarbone, and slashed throat. " Lucky me, that spell casted us away before you finished the job.."

'Good going you two.' Connie thought in pride as  she arched an eyebrow at the supposed demon. "Maybe you should have stayed in your hole then." 

"So spunky even now, even without your partner. Where is your little demon?  Did he get lost in the streams of time? Maybe crying over your grave in the future as we speak."  

Connie did not like this person at all. His conceit reminded her too much of Kevin of the past. Before she could say anything, Garnet interjected, taking a step forward, her fist tight.

"Who are you? What's your business here?!"

"You golems are so aggressive.." He shrugged  playfully " You know when I finally to this.." He paused to take a deep almost euphoric breath of air. "Realm...The other golems asked me the same thing with weapons towards me. All I said was the truth, I was here to kill a half-demon and his witch harlot..and they attacked."

He smirked as he took a pouch from his pocket opening it upside down as the uncracked but dimmed gems of Peridot, Bismuth, Amethyst  and Lapis, fell towards the street. Garnet caught them giving the two a reassuring smile, before turning to the demon with rage.

"Though they were so grateful to help me recover a bit.. Draining their essence in all, though inorganic energy are never as good as demon or human magical energies. It always leaves me empty...Help me out huh?"

The demoness Amethyst kept her eyes on the demon growling standing behind Connie's leg, only to be surprised by the human's palm on her head comforting her as she kept her eyes on the opponent in front of her, sword in hand.

"Don't worry." Connie looked back at the knee high demoness.  " We got this."

"Confident aren't we.. That's fine." The demon crouched low growling as he did. Black wisps of magic seeped off his body and surrounded Crystal Gems.  "I'll just break your confidence with your body."

While HB was fighting within her hometown, A pink portal was opening up on top of an Empire city roof and through it came the laughter of two teens, who slid out of and almost off it, on a pink lion; Dapper and Witchy. In Witchy's hand was a giant strawberry and on Dapper's back was a couple of Homeworld style sais. 

Woah Boy!" Dapper exclaimed as He wrapped his  hands around his lady's waist keeping her close, as they nearly tipped over. "I'm starting to think Bro was right and you do need parking practice."

Lion responded with an annoyed stare. only for it to turn to a pleased mewling as Witch scratched his head.

"Lion's perfect as he is. Don't listen to those jealous Steven's" She praised as she kissed the jungle cat head.

Dapper just shook his head with a smirk as he climbed down. He walked to the edge of the roof and sat down taking a look at the city below. A bit of a serene look on his face. Wordlessly, he held his hand towards his lady, asking for her company.

"Sheesh." Witchy gave her partner a gentle smile as she joined him, strawberry in her left hand. "You're  so starved for my attention, Steven." Witchy teased as she took a bite of the strawberry, humming in sweet surprise as the juice shot down her throat.  She blushed as she heard him chuckle giving him a small glare.

"What?" 

Dapper shook his head before wiping her  strawberry covered lips with his thumb. "You're a mess, my lady." He slurped up the residue from his thumb with a smirk. "Almost as sweet as you."

Face a beautiful maroon half pout, Witchy wrapped her right arm around Dapper and leaned her head on his shoulders. "I swear. Is every Steven a flirt, tasked with making every Connie a flustered mess."

"I'm sure it's the reverse a good amount of the time as well... if bro and sis is an example of the norm." Dapper chuckled. "Maybe it's an undeniable truth of existence."

Witchy looked up, intrigued but also smugly."What, that you were put on earth to raise my blood pressure?"

"I was put on earth to make your heart race, my lady." Dapper joked flirtatiously, getting a half hearted groan from Witchy. "Jokes aside..I'm starting to think for every 'Steven', there's a 'Connie'."

"Really now?" A relaxed smile graced her face. "It's almost like you're saying our lives are intertwined.. Like we're fated to be with each other or something like soulmates?"

"You jest but there's an older version of us who's the embodiment of 'honeymoon' phase."

"Despite not being 'together'."Witchy added with a knowing smirk.

Dapper nodded in agreement a chuckle of his own before settling to a smile. " Then there's us…"

"Please don't say we're soulmates." Witchy bemoaned.

"But we are!" Dapper announced as he took a bite of the strawberry. "Mmm! That's dang good"

"Hey, get your own, greedy demon." Witchy ordered as she pulled the berry away.

"You're so mean, my lady. Just one more bite." Dapper reached towards the fruit.

 Witchy leaned back trying to keep the fruit away. "Oh, yeah right! I know what a bite from you is like."

"You do, don't you."Dapper stated as he leaned closer to her, his smile falling to a sly grin and his attention on her alone.

Blushing as she was, she didn't back down, deciding  to take a page from HB's book. She cupped his chin and gave him a small coaxing smile. "Of course, I do. I have your mark to prove it, 'soulmate'. "

She chuckled when she saw Dapper, blushed and turned away. "That was smooth, my lady." He looked back at her teasing grin.

"You're adorable when you're flustered. It actually feels good to be on the other side." Witchy impishly poked the demon nose as she giggled.

"Oh role reversal is it?" Dapper gave his lady a dangerous smile as his fingers went to her sides. "then I guess I get to punish you as you would do me."

"Steven, don't you daaaaAhahahaha."

Witchy squirmed and laughed as she succumbed to his tickling. She kicked  and tried to block his careful claws, but it was to no avail. 

"Such a beautiful laugh, my lady. Maybe it's a traif of being a Connie. " Dapper half-joked, he really did love his lady's laugh and preferred it over HB's

"Ahhhhaha,,Like schmaltzy...haha! flirting..Is a Steven trait." Witchy said between laughing and catching her breath.

"You like it!" Dapper stated as he tickled more vigorously getting more laughter from the Witchy.. "Give..Give...Give."

"Nooohahaha! We...Connie's...dohahahaha...don't  falter!" 

"Neither do us Steven's! I guess we're at an impasse, then."

"Wait..I'll give you the..Hahaha..Behahah. The berry!"

Dapper paused for a moment."Tempting…"

Witchy used this moment to catch her breath and try to slip from under him  when he stroked her sides with his claws. 

"But I rather, your laughter." 

"Nohahaha! Wait Lion help!" 

Lion looked at the two antic before walking over and nuzzling Witchy neck as if he was trying to tickle her as well making her laugh even more.

"Nohoho! I've been forsaken, betrayed, and cheated!" Witchy yelled through their affectionate assault. "Ok ok! ..I can't breath...You got it!"

"What was that?" 

"You win!"

Dapper looked at Lion for a moment before grinning at the beast and pressing his skull to him. He rolled over laying next to the tired and still giggling Witchy.

"Connie's never falter huh?"

"You had help." She laughed again, getting a lick from Lion. She turned to the pink cat with  a side smirk. "How are you going to betray your aunt?"

Lion yawned before going to the center of the roof to give them privacy.

The two layed there looking up, hands instinctively  interlocked.

"I'm going to miss this world. It's so fun and peaceful. It's relaxing."

Dapper looked over at his lady, her face was reflective as she stared up at the night sky, stars in her black eyes..

"I mean..it's been awhile since we felt like...Teens..No hunts or anything..It's nice."

"But…"

"I'm ready. I want to go back." Witchy said with conviction. "I miss our world. Miss studying with our Pearl and Garnet, walking around our city with AAmethyst. Miss our garden, our living room, our kitchen. My bedroom..I miss our home."

Dapper watched as his lady wiped her eyes to keep from crying. 

She gave a strained chuckled before continuing  "Strange, I miss our adventurous and comparatively dangerous lives?"

Dapper shook his head. "No I feel the same." 

If you asked Dapper about his opinion on the matter of worlds,  he'd tell you he'd rather be wherever his lady was..Truthly he could see them settling and getting caught in the go with the flow aura of Beach City and Little Homeworld...But it wasn't their world to enjoy.

They didn't put in the work or battle the enemies their older counterparts did and still are if what Mister and HB stated about the peace being 'relative'. They themselves didn't see the relative part of the peace, but there's a reason for LHWR&D and for Mister to still engage in ambassador duties

Still his main concern was staring at him  looking for him to continue. He gave his lady hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm in the same mind as you...but I think part of me wishes you wanted to stay here. Would be easier to keep you safe here."

"So you want to slack on your responsibilities?" She teased the demon turning to him.

"Perish the thought, my lady." Dapper retorted with. grin before facing her. Stroking her chin with the back of his hand. "Just mean I could focus more on making you happy than keeping you safe."

Witchy blushed bright as she looked down " You do both, Steven.  No matter what world we're in. I only feel this safe and happy knowing you're with me." She looked up into his demon eyes and only felt affection from and for them. 

"I'm grateful for it. For entering a contract..for being best friends..for having such a loving and loveable dapper demon as a 'soulmate'." 

"Only for you, my lady." 

It was inevitable. The pull of affection, the city light below them and the natural ones above. The serene silence and their shy and excited smile. They instinctively moved closer. their breath brushing against each other. 

"My lady?"

"Please."

He nodded feeling nervous as he moved in eyes closed lips a thread apart from his lady's…

"Guys!"

The two broke apart as if they were burned  and looked toward Mister..Who was half way out of Lion's mane.. Before either could say anything Mister interrupted..

"Connie's fighting a demon."

That's all they needed to hear.

[border-spam]

Everything, and far sooner than Tyreen was ok with, mostly because Troy is so weird.

Ty had given her a basic breakdown on the twin’s first night on her ship once Sei got a drip into Troy and it was clear he wasn’t on death’s door anymore. The buggy ride back to her ship had been terrible, not knowing these kids yet hadn’t made hearing Tyreen’s wracking sobs or the rattle of Troy’s lungs any easier. She’d done her best to focus on driving, tuning her hearing to the crunch of the scorched dust under their wheels, and away from what the girl was saying to her brother as she leaned over him in the back seat. Ty was whispering as she braced his head on her lap, reassurances and mild threats that he better wake up, and Sei would have smiled at the love being showed if it wasn’t so personal. Listening in felt... intrusive. There was a very real chance he’d not be alive by the time they made it to her dock, she’d let Tyreen have this time with in private. It was between them, not her. She was just the fool who hadn’t sense enough to turn down a stray girl's pleads for help, and Sei was sure she was going to regret it.

Once he was finally stable hours later, she’d insisted the girl level with her. The amount of charity she was willing to offer strangers was nearing its limit, it was time for Tyreen to justify why Sei should continue being hospitable when she’d done what she’d been begged to, now that Troy was going to make it. Ty slumped on the floor next to the wall cot where he slept, and sniffled between tears that they weren’t from Pandora. That they hadn’t been prepared for any of this and how quickly things had gone wrong. She’d said all she had now was her brother, whimpered through hiccups that she’d nearly lost him too because she hadn’t been able to help when he got sick, and promised she’d pay her back somehow if they could stay just a few more days. Sei had sighed, rubbing at her forehead tiredly as she felt a headache mull behind her eyes. Painfully aware that two dirty, sick kids with nowhere to go and no one to fall back on were people she’d never be able to forgive herself for turning away, she’d told Ty just to go to fucking sleep. They’d discuss it tomorrow, and that she hoped Tyreen was aware just how lucky she really was to have run into someone stupid enough to give them a chance... that they would need to earn their keep.

That dynamic became the norm even after Troy woke up. Ty did all the talking, while Troy said nothing for weeks. His fearful silence around her in the crew quarters or the way he’d pretend to be asleep and refuse to make eye contact had left Seifa worrying he may be mute; a real possibility considering how often you’d come across folk with selective communication on Pandora. When she brought it up with Ty eventually, she laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. Nah, he wasn’t mute, she’d scoffed. He was just an awkward tool.

Sei would hear them discussing things in muffled voices behind closed doors, but he remained silent around her, eyes wide as he’d pick at the threadbare hem of his sweater and nod yes or no responses politely. 

She would never have thought it would be him that would tell her everything.

Ty had opened up plenty in those first few weeks, especially once she’d decided Seifa could be trusted after not changing how she treated either when Troy’s Siren status had been noted by the medic he’d needed. Tyreen had been adamant at first that they couldn’t trust doctors, that letting anyone know what she and Troy were would be a deadly mistake, but Sei had sworn her “friend” would keep them both under wraps and helped the younger woman understand her brother needed help. She’d been right, Troy’s condition had improved, they hadn’t been sold to a corporation, and Ty blossomed into being genuinely chatty instead of suspiciously reserved.

A happy Tyreen was all confidence and NO subtlety, she’d make huge broad statements like how they were from a “A little backwater planet, oh you wouldn’t have heard of it...” whoever she learned it from was a rampant bullshitter who relied on being boisterous, not believable, and Sei would smirk as she sipped from her coffee, nodding along with Tyreen's clumsy attempts to lie about how they moved here to be stars, taking notes on what she'd need to teach this woman if she was going to have a chance. “Stars...” she’d replied, the twinkle in her eye betraying her amusement at the entire scene Ty had just worked so hard on, “Stars don't wear pants with the asses near tore out of em, Tyreen. You got a lot of work to do, and you gotta start from the ground, love." By the end of the month Ty was raring for opportunity to get off the ship, while Troy was just about mobile, still weak enough to not be able to stand for long. It had been painfully clear his physical condition was poor, the virus that had nearly killed him in their first week on the planet would have been shrugged off as a head-cold by most natives, but weeks later and you could still hear the rattle in his lungs and see the tremor in his hand. Ty had been accompanying Sei on small trade-offs, chores, sales approaches, and was confident enough to beg for the chance to run tasks alone. Said it was a ”Great opportunity to learn the ropes!”, insisted with practiced charisma that it would help teach her to handle herself around Pandorans, and Seifa had wholeheartedly agreed. She’d been on an errand planet side, picking up some carbon buffers from a friend of a friend when Troy had finally spoke.

He’d arrived silently to the table for the meal Sei had called into the cabin quarters to let him know would be up soon, and sat slumped, staring down at the food while Seifa tried to fill the heavy quiet with idle chatter as she prepped her own. ”Any word from Tyreen yet?” -silence, just the brush of cloth behind her as he shifted in his chair- ”She’ll be fine you know, been doing great with me, natural liar! Plays them like cards, heh-heh” She’d turned to sit with her meal and paused mid step as she saw the state he was in, at the exhaustion in his expression as he awkwardly hunched over the little table. He looked shattered, scruffy hair framing the dark rings under his tired eyes, staring quietly at the untouched food in front of him. Sei decided it would be worth gambling a different approach as she lowered herself into her seat.

“Ahhh.. sorry Troy” she’d sighed, resting her cheek on her hand as she leaned on the table and tilted her cup towards him in apology. “I’m boring you, huh. My company must be pretty terrible then, I’m getting rusty...” He’d turned quickly at the theatrically melancholy in her tone and fidgeted as his eyes flickered between hers and the plate in front of him, clearly alarmed and unsure how to respond. She waited, lifting the cup to hide her smile as the massive man in front of her squirmed like a child, before he finally stuttered out a choked:

“N-no. No. It’s not you. You’re .. fine.” There it was. Now they were getting somewhere, he’d taken the bait exactly as she hoped. Looks like letting others down was a weak-point, and she stored that away mentally for the future. 

His voice was softer than she would have expected, crackly from misuse and a still raw throat, but it was something. Now she had to get him to keep going. She’d flashed a friendly grin at him, eyes narrowing as she beckoned with a finger for him to continue. He’d turned to the food again, and his shoulders sunk as the worry on his face was replaced with the same sadness from before, hand shaking slightly as he rested it by the plate. “It’s n-not you. It’s the food. We... we had something like this at home..” He’d paused for a moment then, looking to her shyly for reassurance that it was ok to be talking to her at all, and when he was met with a nod and gentle smile, he started again... and did not stop for half an hour.

Everything. Things she would never have imagined asking about, things someone else would consider intensely private, he spilled in one long, shocking monologue. It felt like he’d been bottling this for god knows how long, and she hadn’t had a clue how to respond as she sat next to him, trying to keep her expression blank and hide how disturbing the things he was calmly explaining were to her.

Leda, Typhon, Nekrotafeyo, the accident with Tyreen, how dad had just thought him a freak but become overwhelmingly controlling and smothering of Ty after mom, how sick he’d been, how she’d tricked him into coming here and he should have known better but he never seems to learn, how hungry he was deep in his bones all the time, how he desperately didn’t want to be here but can’t leave, how much he loves his sister but doesn’t know what to do, everything.

He’d spoke till his voice was cracking and hoarse from misuse, and that was the only thing that had stopped him from continuing, coughing quietly as he stared at the cold food. If Seifa’s reaction was something he noticed, he wasn’t phased by it, and she’d sat in the terrible silence next to him, struggling to think of what the hell she was meant to say.

“That’s rough, buddy.” wasn’t going to cut it. There was no way she could have been prepared for everything he’d just shared so freely, like it was some mundane chat between close friends and not the kind of secrets a normal person would have the self preservation to know not to blurt out to a near stranger. Words were failing her, so she awkwardly extended a hand and rested it above the hollow of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the ridge of his collarbone in a comforting gesture, and hoped that any kind of reassurance she could offer right now would lessen how vulnerable the moment was. He’d not reacted, still gazing down at the untouched meal, then timidly cleared his throat and shifted his eyes slowly to meet hers from under his brow. “I.. I don’t think I can eat this” he’d whispered as his voice hitched nervously. “I’m going to go back to sleep. Thanks though.... S-sorry again.” He’d stood and nodded gratitude to her, before quietly lumbering out of the room she remained sitting in shock in, the cold coffee still in the cup held by her mouth. Tyreen had a lot of explaining to do when she got back, and Sei didn’t make it easy.

Asks are Open!

[sunshine-shitposts]

Here I am, after more than a week! 👀 whups～

(Part 1)

tw: mentions of past spousal abuse

Dust in the Wind—Part 2

Ignoring the lack of windows to the outside, it looked like a normal living room. There was a sitting area, with a large, low coffee table surrounded by a spacious L-shaped sectional on one side and two matching arm chairs on the other. It was minimally decorated, though signs of occupancy existed—scatterings of books on the coffee table with papers and notes, a few pairs of Sunnie-sized shoes next to the entrance, a sticky note on the mirror next to the door ("don't stare at yourself TOO much" it said, in rather messy handwriting), and some blankets bunched up here and there. A quiet yet efficient ceiling fan moved air slowly through the underground room, the hardwood floor was dark in color, and a large area rug made the sitting area comfortable, but other than that, it was relatively plain.

The second Sunnie opened the door and walked through, however, Jotaro heard a voice he had planned on never hearing again.

"My darling Sunshine, you've returned to me!" Came a deep exclamation from beyond a corner as a muscular blonde man emerged and rushed over.

"Oh my fucking god-OOF–" was the only thing Sunnie could get out before she was swept up in Dio's arms, her backpack jingling and feet dangling uselessly as he twirled her around. "Put me down, asshole!! We have company!"

"Can you blame me, dearest? I haven't seen you in several days, and it gets oh so terribly lonely down here," the blonde man chuckled, still holding her tight.

"Catherine talks to you daily!! You're fine!!" She complained, wiggling in his unrelenting grasp.

At the mention of her name, the COO huffed a sigh and shut the door behind her.

"Oh, my sweet, she's delightful company, but she's not you," the man cooed, taking and squishing Sunnie's cheeks in his talons adoringly.

Jotaro's jaw and fists clenched so hard they hurt, and Mrs. Gupta put her hand on his shoulder to try to steady him, but Star Platinum had already leapt out, ready to fight.

"Ora!" The Stand shouted, the roar-like battlecry causing Dio to stop twirling Sunnie around and look at the Joestar, expression nearly catlike in its smugness. Sunnie caught her first glimpse of Jotaro's Stand and her eyes widened almost comically.

"Oooooh… big boy…" she whispered in awe.

"You must be this dimension's Jotaro," Dio hummed, amber eyes surveying both the Joestar and his Stand, "Where I come from, your Star Platinum is green."

"Bastard," Jotaro hissed.

"You're not wrong," the man smirked as he set Sunnie down, playfully removing her hat–which he tossed off somewhere–and ruffling her hair as she slid her backpack off and chucked it on the L-shaped portion of the large sectional sofa.

"How the hell did you get here," Jotaro growled, eyes burning with wrath as his entire body tensed, "I killed you."

"Ah, see, there's your problem," Dio grinned, wagging a sharply-manicured claw, "You killed a me. Not me-me."

In an instant, Jotaro's hand was inches from Dio's neck, and a glimmering turquoise and silver hand separated them, slightly tapered fingers spread as if to catch something as the wing shape on the wrist flared wildly.

Jotaro looked to the side to see Dust in the Wind staring at him with narrowed yellow eyes, the sound of distant windchimes clinking as it focused on him with a sharpness that was strange from a relatively featureless face. Sunnie was standing in between the two taller men, green eyes seemingly on fire as they caught his own.

"I will do it, Jotaro," she said, voice low and monotone as she stared at him, unblinking, with an intensity he didn't expect from her. With all the friendliness and casual demeanor he'd seen from her in the short time they'd known each other, this piercingly focused glare was downright out of character, "This is my job."

Jotaro looked back up and saw Dio staring down at Sunnie with a strange look in his eyes, his lips pulled back in a nearly manic grin. It seemed like sheer delight.

"Jotaro, relax," Mrs. Gupta huffed, unphased by the possible violence brewing in front of her as she sat down in a wingback chair opposite a main sofa, "Please, I've had enough headaches dealing with the board today." When there was no movement between the others in the room, she patted her thigh sharply. "Sunnie, call Windy off."

She hesitated, but Dust in the Wind shrank back into Sunnie, glaring at Jotaro the entire time.

"Thank you, Sunnie," Mrs. Gupta said softly, which made Jotaro's brows furrow in realization. He turned, taking his attention off of Dio and turning it to the COO instead.

"You have a Stand as well," he stated, voice soft, and she nodded.

"That I do," she responded, and a massive, lithe, dark, armor-clad figure flashed behind her for a split second, plate armor shining iridescent like the wings of a grackle for the briefest of moments. Jotaro caught a glimpse of a long neck and a helmeted face, veiled on the sides by a long flowing cloth, before the Stand disappeared, "But that is neither here nor there. Dio is not under any circumstances going to hurt you or your family. Should he try, he will be summarily turned into dust."

"You speak of my possible demise so inelegantly, Catherine," Dio sighed, pulling Sunnie gingerly down on the sofa close to him as she made a strange squawking noise in surprise, "It's kind of depressing."

"It is what it is," she replied, leveling him with a bored look.

Jotaro never thought he'd see it, but Dio pouted. It didn't look right to him. It made him uncomfortable to see that monster acting so normal. "So. My question stands," Jotaro demanded, voice sharp. Mrs. Gupta shifted, giving him a tired glance.

"About half a year ago, we received communication from a Speedwagon office near a dig site in northern Norway that a man claiming to be Dio had appeared and wanted to strike a deal with the Foundation. He made his way, in secured vehicles and with appropriate escort, here, to Dallas, where we had an appropriate facility to house him as we ascertained his goal," the COO said, voice level and nearly clinical as she recounted the events, "Once he was deemed a relative non-threat, we began negotiations and arrived at an appropriate arrangement."

Jotaro's eyes immediately locked onto her. "Arrangement?" he practically hissed.

"He offered his body and service in exchange for a safe haven," Mrs. Gupta stated, not even phased by the anger rolling off the Joestar.

"Why the hell did the Foundation agree?" Jotaro growled, "What the fuck could this asshole have that anyone needs?"

"Are you kidding??" Sunnie suddenly yelped, eyes going wide as she leaned forward on the sofa, her demeanor completely changing, "There's so much we can learn from him! His regenerative capabilities in particular are fascinating, so much faster than in other creatures, like planarians!! The scientific applications are not only wide-reaching, but could help so many people in the future. Severed limbs, damaged organs, you name it. Like, holy shit, there's so much potential to help people in his big stupid body!!" Dio chuckled as Sunnie had gotten increasingly animated, green eyes sparkling as she whacked his arm three times to emphasize the 'big stupid body' bit.

"I have a relative who can heal people," Jotaro snapped, "Why not study him?"

"It's not the same and you know it," Sunnie shot back, "Stand abilities can't be bottled and sold as medicine or gene therapies; at least, none we've seen. Not like this. Dio's abilities are entirely biological. When he used the mask on himself, it altered his body. Probably rewrote large swaths of genetic code. These are advances we can actually implement, Jotaro. Don't let your previous experiences cloud your vision."

"And why are you here?" Jotaro asked, glaring at her, "From what I can tell, you were a mere civilian until recently. How much do you know about the mask, or my family's past?"

The second the full weight of his simmering rage seemed to settle with her, Sunnie's eyes widened and her fists tightened. She clammed up, shaking slightly. Dio looked at her and immediately snaked his hand into her hair, rubbing a thumb against her scalp.

"I personally requested her as my companion," he said, voice low, before looking back at Jotaro, "The circumstances were discussed with her and she accepted, knowing full well what she was getting into."

"And, like… I know the basics of what happened. What you went through to save your mom," Sunnie's eyes caught Jotaro's, her gaze sincere, "I'd destroy the world to keep my mom safe. I get it. But him?" She pointed at Dio, "He's not the same one you fought. That man is dead. So your beef isn't with this one."

Mrs. Gupta leaned against one side of her chair. "If it makes you feel any better, Jotaro, we have… ways of determining points of origin. You'd have to ask Ellison about it, but while most of Dio's markers do line up with ours, there are a few that are different enough to prove that he didn't come from here."

"Besides, you can't feel it, can you?" Dio grinned.

"Feel what?" Jotaro snarled, turning his attention to the vampire.

"The inherent connection that we who bear the birthmark have. The connection that I should have to you, and any other members of the Joestar family," he gestured with an elegantly clawed finger to the man in front of him, "because I am in possession of Jonathan Joestar's body."

Jotaro's gaze narrowed.

"I may still be Dio," the vampire continued, crossing one leg over the other, "but I am not your Dio. And there is enough of a difference between us for the bloodline connection to not be there at all. You didn't even notice when I came to this world, did you?"

Jotaro hated to admit that Dio had a point. He had no idea until he was contacted by the Foundation. There had been no indication whatsoever.

Having not received an answer, Dio smirked. "That's what I thought," his eyes narrowed as well, glinting unnaturally as he seemingly read Jotaro's mind, "You truly had no idea."

"Don't gloat, asshole," Sunnie grunted, punching Dio lightly with a small fist, "He gets it."

There was a quiet in the room as Jotaro took everything in. Of course the Foundation would have ways to figure out dimensional points of origin or whatever the hell it was… And this Dio did seem slightly different. Jotaro didn't spend that much time with the one he killed, but he had a feeling that that Dio wouldn't be tolerating Sunnie's casual demeanor towards him. Jotaro sat in the chair next to Mrs. Gupta's, sighing quietly as he mulled over the facts.

"Now, my dear," Dio said out of nowhere, turning to Sunnie, "Let me see them. Are they any better?"

Sunnie stiffened, shrinking inward. "Dio, not now. We have a guest here," she muttered, eyes darting to Jotaro for a split second.

"Come on. Show me," the vampire goaded as Mrs. Gupta sat forward in her seat, an arm propping itself on her leg so she could lean her chin on her hand.

"I'd like to see how they're doing as well, Sunnie," she said, "I have more work to attend to soon, so now is as good a time as any."

"Ugh, fine," Sunnie sighed dramatically, reaching her arms out as one hand reached over to the base of one sleeve. She slowly slid it upwards, revealing lightly freckled pale skin dotted with ugly yellowing bruises in various sizes. She then raised the other sleeve, showing the same there. Jotaro immediately gripped the arm of the chair hard enough to crunch it slightly.

"What the fuck did you do, Dio??"

"No, no, you got it wrong," Sunnie said quickly as Dio's clawed hands ran over her skin, his sharp brows furrowed. "He didn't… these aren't from him."

There was a tense silence as Dio inspected the injuries, and Mrs. Gupta looked at Jotaro with cold steel in her dark eyes.

"Her husband," she whispered, unable to conceal the disgust in her voice.

Oh.

…Oh.

"You know I can heal these, Sunshine," Dio murmured, "I healed Enrico, I can heal you–"

"The lawyer said we need to document how long it takes for them to heal," Catherine  said sternly, "It would be suspicious if they suddenly vanished."

"How are the ones on your back? Your legs?" Dio pressed.

She had them there, too? Jotaro's brows drew down over his eyes. No wonder she was wearing long clothes in the Texan heat. He had no idea this entire time, from the moment he saw her in Dallas til the moment that Dio had brought it up, that she was walking around with all of that on her body.

"I mean, still there? It'll take time," she grunted.

"May I see, darling?"

Sunnie scoffed. "I'm not taking my shorts and leggings off, asshole."

"Just the back, then?"

Sunnie heaved another sigh, and Jotaro heard her suck in a breath as she fully shrugged off her cardigan, revealing more skin covered in bruises and a few still-healing cuts on her upper left arm, splotches of reddish yellow littered around the slashed skin. She turned to face away from Dio and he slid the back of her loose sleeveless shirt up.

"Your hand is fucking cold," she said loudly, yelling the last word, but he just clicked his tongue.

"I still think you should have killed him," Dio growled, not paying any mind to her complaint. A snarl, one that Jotaro remembered from a long while ago, lifted the man's lip and he saw a glint of pronounced fang. "It would have been easy for you. Suffocate him, steal his breath, no one would know."

"You know I don't do that. I don't use Windy against people who can't defend themselves," the woman said quietly, but loud enough for Jotaro to hear.

"Even if she did, she'd have to have lived with that for the rest of her life," Mrs. Gupta added, leaning back against one arm of her chair, "She wasn't—isn't—in a mental state for that."

"She could have at least defended herself," Dio responded, the hard anger in his golden eyes fading to a strangely soft concern. It didn't look right on the man. This didn't seem like the Dio Jotaro had killed. The vampire's large, pale hand ran up the apparently very much injured expanse of Sunnie's back, causing her to hiss a little. "You didn't need to endure so much pain."

Jotaro never thought he'd agree with Dio. Dio was evil. Dio was a curse on his family. Dio tried to have him and his friends killed. Dio was a monster.

But seeing these bruises, some still dotted with purples and sickly reds, he couldn't help but agree.

Dio was right.

"I couldn't do that, Dio," she whispered, "He said I deserved it."

Jotaro felt his heart clench. She sounded broken. She had been so calm and composed and casual in all the short time that he'd known her. He'd seen her relative physical strength when she had lifted her mother's heavy school supplies with ease. She was a sturdy woman, and her smile seemed so natural, her laughter so easy.

But there she was: drawn in on herself, battered, and so, so small.

"And he was wrong," Catherine stood from her seat and walked to Sunnie's side, crouching down in front of her spot on the sofa and delicately placing a hand on her knee to comfort her. "And we'll keep drilling that into your head as much as you need, alright?"

Dio moved the hand on her back to her side, sliding up the shirt there, revealing a large, sharp splotched line that wrapped around her waist, like she had been thrown onto or pressed against a sharp-edged corner. Jotaro, at this point, had to duck his gaze behind the brim of his hat. That was too much for him, for some reason. It felt like he was invading her privacy, though she was being rather casual about her skin being on display.

"So, all of that…?" Jotaro muttered, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Yeah," Sunnie said, glancing at him, "This is from… that asshole." She paused, before gesturing with her head towards Dio, "Not this asshole, though."

"How sweet of you," Dio chuckled, lowering the shirt and giving her good shoulder a soft pat. She quickly pulled the cardigan back on, drawing her legs toward her chest and averting her eyes.

"The Foundation is providing her with legal counsel and a therapist," Catherine said plainly, standing back to her full height and walking to the raised arm of the sofa, leaning against it, "As well as medical assistance when necessary. We're making sure she's well taken care of here."

"…And 'well taken care of' means she stays down here with him?" Jotaro asked, shooting an acidic glance towards Dio.

And Dio reacted with his first open display of displeasure with the Joestar: another snarl, and an incredibly insulted expression. "There is no safer place on this planet for her to be than with me," he growled, "On the off chance that the piece of shit decides to seek out and associate with unsavory types with Stand abilities to track her down, I am the best equipped to protect her."

"And why would I believe anything you say?" Jotaro stood suddenly, advancing on Dio.

To Jotaro's surprise, when Dio stood, he stepped in front of the woman on the sofa, as if he was trying to protect her. "You act like you know me, Jojo. Let me assure you that you don't."

"Alllllright, that's enough!" Sunnie exclaimed, jumping up and standing on the sofa, still not as tall as either Jotaro or Dio, "I'm done with the bullshit!!!! You!!!!" She pointed at Jotaro, "Getting angry at the situation changes nothing. Deal with it. And you!!!!" She smacked the back of Dio's head, "Quit being a shitgibbon. Calm down." She reached out and bunched the stretchy fabric of his skin-tight top in her small fist, and softly added, "...Please."

Dio looked back at her and once again, something about him seemed to soften.

"Of course, Sunshine," he said, his voice low and strangely kind as he sat back down on the sofa with her.

"Just tell me one thing," Jotaro said, voice level and low. Dio's amber eyes settled on him in a calculating gaze that would unnerve most people as Jotaro tried to find the right words. "The… me from where you're from. What happened to his mother?"

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, both of their faces unreadable, before Dio spoke. "…After I managed to escape the fight in Cairo, he received news of his mother's death."

The clenching of Jotaro's fist was audible in the otherwise nearly dead-quiet room.

"I spent years on the run from the remaining Joestar group, those they added to their ranks, and the Foundation," Dio continued, "All I wanted to do was survive. Jotaro did not make it easy."

"Good," was all Jotaro could say, feeling a roiling mix of emotions in his chest. He stood, looking at Mrs. Gupta. "I'm done here."

"Alright then," she said, standing as well, "Sunnie?" The woman stared at her boss, eyes wide and blinking. "See us out?"

Sunnie nodded and got off the sofa, wincing as she flexed and stretched a little bit. Dio pouted again, tapping her calf with his foot, and she huffed. "I won't be long, dude. Chill."

Seemingly pleased with her answer, the man grinned smugly to himself before picking a book up off the table and settling against the arm of the sofa, flipping to some page midway through. He did, however, spare one last wary glance at Jotaro, who could have sworn he saw Dio's eyes flash a very vivid and untrusting crimson for a split second before he left the room with the two women.

"Sunnie," Jotaro said as soon as he was sure the door was fully closed, eyes and voice soft, "I need you to be wary around him."

"Yeah, I know," she laughed, but Jotaro shook his head firmly.

"I don't know if you understand, though," the Joestar muttered, "He has a way of… his words alone can sway a heart. He can capture minds and twist them."

Her wide grin dropped, and she gave him a strangely stoic and bitter look. "...Yeah. Trust me, I get it."

Mrs. Gupta placed her hand, long and elegant, on Sunnie's right shoulder, and she pulled her close in a light side hug. Jotaro sighed quietly—he couldn't imagine what Sunnie had been through, nor for how long, but figured that she, with the Foundation at her back, could handle herself.

"Sunnie?" The COO asked softly, offering her hand to the short woman. Sunnie quickly pulled out a pen from her pocket and began writing something on the lighter skin of Mrs. Gupta's palm, glancing at Jotaro a couple of times. Confused, but not wanting to intrude, Jotaro waited. When Sunnie was done, Mrs. Gupta looked at her hand and stifled a laugh, and Sunnie sent a mischievous little smirk Jotaro's way.

"Be seeing you, Jotaro," she said. He nodded to her, following Mrs. Gupta out of the first set of sliding doors. When the doors closed, she let out another little laugh.

"Sometimes she writes things on my hand that she doesn't want to say out loud, like if she wants a certain kind of food or another blanket," she said, showing him her palm.

It was a caricature of Jotaro's face, glowering, with the words 'grumpy mcgrumperson' underneath.

Well. Hm.

"She hid it well, didn't she?" Mrs. Gupta asked as soon as the second sliding door closed, voice light and strangely conversational, "All that pain she's in—mentally and physically."

"Too well," Jotaro muttered, and Mrs. Gupta nodded, sighing.

"We actually wouldn't have known about it if Dio hadn't smelled the blood from her shoulder, you know." Jotaro looked at her confusedly, and she continued, "She was hoping she'd just hide from her husband by sleeping in her car, but Dio insisted that she stay with him here. Now she splits time between the Foundation and her parents' house."

"And you just let that happen?"

They arrived in front of the elevator at the end of the hall, and Mrs. Gupta held her hand up to the scanner. When it beeped in acceptance, she pressed a couple of buttons and they waited for the door to open. "I understand that you don't trust him, as you've made so abundantly clear. But I have a reason for giving the go ahead for this. You're going to have to trust us."

The elevator opened and she stepped inside, Jotaro following before the door shut once more.

"...How are you sure that he's going to keep his word?"Jotaro asked, and Mrs. Gupta glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes for a moment before looking back ahead of them.

"Before I became COO, I worked in… outreach," she said, "I was tasked with finding other Stand users, both natural and unnatural. I've met quite a few people and… others with useful abilities that way."

Jotaro's eyes narrowed. "Is that how you rose in the ranks so quickly?"

She crossed her arms, a small but sly smile on her full lips. "I have goals, Dr. Kujo. I would be a fool if I didn't take the opportunity to use the resources available to me to achieve them. I'm sure you understand." The elevator door opened to a short hallway with softly glowing wall sconces, and she stepped out, motioning for him to follow. "Now, we can discuss more in my office. Come."

Jotaro felt himself deflate slightly—he was getting tired, his limit for dealing with people nearly reached for the day, but he did want to speak with her for a while without Dio around. So he followed, and shut the door behind himself.

To Be Continued...

[anthropologicalhands]

r/n - i've been working on my backwards walk / there's nowhere else for me to go / except back to you just one last time / say yes before i change my mind

As Rebecca tries to be sanguine about nearing forty, seeing it as a peak rather than a slide into decay (a Naomi-fostered distortion that has proven remarkably difficult to shake), one thing that has comforted Rebecca over the last decade is that with experience, she’s learned how to handle all matter of situations with grace, simply because she’s seen them before.

Revisiting this particular situation, however, is not what she expected.

It starts with an invitation delivered to Rebecca’s house to Hebby’s fifth grade graduation. There wouldn’t be anything strange about such a thing, even after she gets over the orange-and-turquoise astronaut theme (Hebby was going through a bit of a NASA phase), were it not for the fact the invitation was also addressed to Nathaniel.

Rebecca and Nathaniel, specifically.

Still frowning and trying to ignore the weird ringing that just went through her head at the jolt of seeing hers and Nathaniel’s names juxtaposed across a piece of lurid cardstock—like they’re a unit, or something—Rebecca credits herself with just pulling her phone out and calling Darryl directly instead of diving headfirst into a panic spiral.

“Rebecca!” Darryl’s voice booms from the other end of the line, and Rebecca can’t help the reflexive grin—Darryl’s unflagging enthusiasm while raising four daughters remains nothing short than a scientific marvel. “What a surprise. How is my favorite pretzel singer?”

“Hey, Darryl. Quick question for you. I got your card—”

“Isn’t it great? Hebby picked out the colors specially.”

“I’ll bet she did. But that’s not why I was calling, actually. I was wondering if, perchance, you might have had a shortage of such eye-popping invitations?”

“What do you mean?”

“My invitation was addressed to me and Nathaniel, which, I can definitely send him the deets, no problem, but wouldn’t an email be easier?”

“Oh?” She can hear Darryl’s mustache frown from the other end of the phone. “You mean you and Nathaniel aren’t…”

“Well, he doesn’t live here,” snaps Rebecca, a little flustered. “Why would you think that? Why did you think—did he—”

“Hang on,” says Darryl, and she can hear him calling for April, leaving her stuttered rejection hanging.

Are her and Nathaniel—

How is that even a question anymore?

It’s been a decade, and everyone involved with that event has definitively moved forward with their lives. Her and Josh were a definitive ‘no’ from that fateful Valentine’s Day onwards, remaining dear friends instead, and she was very much the ‘cool aunt’ among his own children. Her and Greg had wavered briefly for a bit afterwards, ran into some seriously uncomfortable friction, and it took them the better part of two years to find a good balance. It probably helped that she accidentally connected him to the woman who would become his wife, but that was a story for another day.

And it was a similar story with Nathaniel. He went to Guatemala for two years, came back and split his time between helping at MountainTop and working with some volunteer legal capacity with the local zoos and her and him—

Ah. Well.

Okay, so it wasn’t quite as clearly defined with Nathaniel, beyond the general fact that she wanted him to be happy, and he wanted her to be happy, and generally their relationship since his return had been checking in on each other, making fun of their weird hobbies and still showing up to events that were important to each other. It was all very adult and friendly and open. Their friendship had appropriate limits and boundaries and they supported each other in the respective relationships they had tried over the years, and it was very platonic…

Well. Except when it wasn’t. There hadn’t been a repeat of the Mona incident ever, and Rebecca could honestly say that she really liked a couple of the long-term girlfriends he’d introduced to them since then, and was genuinely regretful when those relationships ended. Especially for Sylvia, the LA Zoo curator who had to move for her career. Not that the regret wasn’t complicated by other factors, like when Nathaniel had admitted privately to Rebecca later that as much as he liked Sylvia, he just couldn’t see himself leaving California again.

She didn’t get butterflies at that, exactly, because but there had been a comfort in knowing that Nathaniel was content to remain in her orbit.

Again, not entirely uncomplicated. But it was nothing beyond the usual messy spectrum of human emotion internally, and never acted on externally.

She’s dated on and off as suited her libido and her schedule and her desire to find a life partner. She’s had relationships that got serious enough to talk about the future on and off, but they’ve all ended too for reasons inherent to those dynamics themselves. Nathaniel had been a good friend while they were going on, and a shoulder to cry on after, and well, okay, they might have fallen back into bed together a few times over the years, but they never pretended that it was either more than it was or that it was some forbidden thing that wouldn’t happen again. It was what it was.

Well. And they hung out, sometimes. And occasionally were each other’s plus-ones to public events. And friends’ weddings. And quite possibly—

Hm.

It really, really doesn’t help her case that she’s going to see him tonight, either.

“Rebecca?” Darryl tears her out of her thoughts. “Sorry about that! I think there was just a mistake at the stationary shop and they put your cards in together. What are the odds? I might need to call the other parents on the list, just to make sure that they got theirs all right. Could you take that one to Nathaniel? I don’t know if it’s out of your way—”

“Not at all!” says Rebecca, smiling with all of her teeth even though Darryl can’t see her, her cheeks aching. “Not even remotely.”

“Good,” says Darryl, and she can hear him beaming from the other side of the line.

~

“So, a funny thing happened on the way to your apartment…”

“That’s ominous,” comments Nathaniel, taking the bag of groceries she shoves at him without complaint as he closes the door behind her. Rebecca kicks off her shoes and toes them out of the walkway, abiding by Nathaniel’s still oft-repeated entreaties to not leave her personal belongings strewn entirely across his apartment.

“It’s not ominous so much as luminous,” says Rebecca, reaching into her purse and withdrawing Hebby’s invitation with a little flourish of the wrist. “Well, fluorescent.”

“Oh my god.”

Nathaniel accepts the card and flicks it open, scanning through the cheerful, only slightly grammatically incorrect message, and cannot quite suppress an amused huff of laughter. Rebecca hides her own smile as she turns away to set her purse on the very useful hook Nathaniel installed for her own use. Like herself, Nathaniel has a soft spot for Hebby, despite his continued awkwardness around children.

“Right? She gets that from Darryl for sure.”

“I don’t know, I remember someone showing up in some pink and purple eyesore into a law firm the very first day I met her.”

“You just didn’t know fun when you saw it,” says Rebecca instead, perching on the edge of the couch. “But it was funny. I was worried for a second that he thought that we were a couple or something. How weird is that?”

She is completely, totally casual in her delivery of that line, she knows. A decade in community theater and singing gigs have certainly finetuned her ability to turn a phrase, if nothing else. But something must be slightly offkey, because Nathaniel snaps up from marveling at the card to eye her suspiciously.

“Very weird,” he says, after a slightly-too-long pause. “Do we seem like a couple? Why would we seem like a couple when we aren’t a couple?”

“That’s exactly what I thought!” She punches him companionably on the arm; apparently too hard, if the way he winces and rubs at his bicep is any consideration.

(She’s been taking workout classes with Valencia—she deserves something for all that pain.)

“But it’s probably nothing,” she adds, determined to address this weird little misstep directly, because they are both too old to be having any kinds of weird misunderstandings anymore. “We’re close. We have our own rhythm, our own special two step. No wonder Darryl got confused.”

“He’s getting old,” says Nathaniel.

“Dude, c’mon.”

“What? It’s true.”

“What about you, Mister Gray?” Rebecca challenges. Nathaniel pulls a face in response, clearly fighting the urge to brush his hand through the aforementioned silvering at his temples.

(He wasn’t quite vain enough to dye his hair yet, though Rebecca credits his restraint to the fact that she would never let him hear the end of it.)

“It’s just a couple of hairs,” he says inconsequentially, as though it hasn’t been long established that between the two of them, he’s the one with the greater fear of aging, and therefore in far more danger of aging gracelessly.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Rebecca hops off the couch and grabs him by the elbow. “Now c’mon, let’s make sure make these sweet potatoes are not oh-sweet-pies-don’t!”

~

Heading over to Nathaniel’s place had left Rebecca feeling on edge, not quite sure how to process the idea of someone, anyone, considering her and Nathaniel as a potential couple this late in the game.

Nothing is more grounding, however, than seeing Nathaniel being clearly so off kilter, missing steps in what should be a well-worn dance of theirs by now. Dancing has always been their thing—where they once threw each other off at every possible moment, shaking up their convictions about life and happiness and how that concept could exist within their previously compartmentalized existences. Now, they were familiar with each other. Comfortable. Predictable.

They knew each other’s moves now, which means that she could see Nathaniel’s as clear as water.

He’s unfocused during dinner, a little erratic in his answers, jittery, as if he’s had too much coffee. It’s putting her off her rhythm, and while she knows that not everything in life needs to be a big song and dance production, there does need to be some kind of continuity.

This evening was supposed to be easygoing and relaxing. And, yes, probably beneficial in that very particular friends-with-benefits way. But since that clearly wasn’t going to happen, they needed to execute a sharp left turn and get this all settled.

“Nathaniel?” she repeats, for the third time.

“Hm?”

“Are you getting hard of hearing in your old age?” He scowls deeply at her in response. “Yeah, yeah, I had to ask. So, what’s bugging you?”

He’s silent for a long minute. “Just something ridiculous.”

“Yeah?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t need to go through it again. It’s just spinning in circles around the same old subject.”

“Try a jazz square then.”

That startles a laugh out of him, much to Rebecca’s satisfaction. Good to know that she still has some capacity for surprise with him. She continues, “You know that move, right? Don’t tell me you forgot about Connie.”

“Are you kidding? I still have nightmares about her scarf strangling me to death.”

“Dark.”

“She was terrifying.”

“Yeah.” They sit in companionable silence. Then Nathaniel sighs.

“Sorry I’m being weird. I just…hearing that from you, I always thought it would just be a good laugh. You know, ridiculous to even think about romance again. But it made me feel weird instead, so now I’m acting slightly weird.”

“I wouldn’t say slightly,” teases Rebecca, unable to resist. Nathaniel doesn’t return her smile.

“Rebecca, I like where we are. I like that our relationship isn’t a big production anymore.”

“Don’t get me wrong—I love drama on the stage, but that’s definitely where it should stay.” She drums her fingers on her thigh, subconsciously tapping out a tune that’s been giving her trouble these last few weeks. “We can learn new steps, you know. Old dogs, new tricks? That doesn’t only apply to the bedroom.”

Nathaniel (again, predictably) groans.

“Aren’t you getting too old to have such a dirty mind?” But he’s smiling, now.

“Nah. I fully intend to be a filthy old woman. But seriously,” she adds, moving to sit besides him on the couch. “If just the thought of other people thinking that we’re a couple again is enough to send us both off balance, we need to center ourselves. Maybe it’s something worth talking about. What do you say?”

She reaches out and grabs his hand, and starts to tap a rhythm against his large palm—one of the first she ever composed, the first one her friends ever danced to. After a moment, he taps back, completing it.

“Yes.”

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 16: Communion-ity

Keith meets a certain head chef and his tiny half-clone. Said tiny clone is very fond of cats and Lance.

First  Previous  Next

Keith’s tail twitches nervously. On the other side of this door is one of Lance’s oldest, dearest friends. Given Lance's reputation, Keith can only imagine what they might have gotten up to together. Most likely things that would have him trembling for the better part of the next decaphoeb. After that, probably only disgusted.

“Anyway, Hunk is one who runs the kitchens. He makes every single one of your meals himself. Because, y’know, all of our food apparently tastes disgusting to you.”

“It’s the ‘sweet’ thing. I don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like, but Galra can’t taste it. And apparently you freaks like nothing else.”

“Hey. If Pidge makes that implant for you I bet you’ll love sweet food.”

“Makes a what now?” Keith asks, but Lance throws open the doors, stepping inside with a flourish, bowing halfway amidst a chorus of greetings.

“Alright, everyone. I have my spouse here to see the kitchens, so please be kind to him.” Another chorus from cheery Alteans. Lance holds out his hand for Keith to take, tugs him into the kitchen. Keith stays close, watching Alteans scurry about, preparing to feed not only the royal family, but also the guards and a portion of Altean’s military, the ones garrisoned at the castle.

As Keith walked past, these Alteans stare at him, forgetting themselves for a moment before averting their gazes. It's better than gossip, in a way, but it causes a sort of ache. Loneliness?

“Kitty!” To Keith’s alarm, a very small creature comes running at him, toddling in its chubby legs. Keith grips Lance’s arm, managing not to extend his claws into his spouse’s arm as the child grabs him around the legs in a hug. “Hi, kitty!”

“Rosetta! Rosetta leave the kitty alone- Oh! Oh, gosh! Rosetta, come here!” A pair of very large hands reach down and pry the child from Keith’s legs. “I’m so sorry about that. She’s little.”

Keith looks up to see a very large person in a spotless apron and yellow headband holding the little child. “It’s… fine. It’s all fine. Um. What’s a kitty?”

“You ever seen Honerva carry a little animal around?” the man asks. Keith nods. “That’s Kova. Her cat, also known as a kitty.”

“I don’t look like that.”

“Tell that to a toddler. I’m Hunk, by the way. Nice to meet you.” Keith blinks, looks the towering Balmeran up and down.

“Nice to meet you too,” he mumbles. “Why do you have a child in the kitchens?”

“Oh. My wife is pregnant and needed a break. Toddlers, man. Tiny monsters, I’m telling you. Besides, it’s never too early to begin learning different spices. Isn’t that right?” Hunk bounces his daughter, beaming with delight. He's nothing like Keith had expected.

“You guys are so great,” Lance says, smiling from where he’s leaning against a table covered with produce. “Hunk and Shay are just the perfect little family. Also, they can make cave bugs taste amazing. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Hey, I can’t take credit for that. My grandmother-in-law taught me that recipe. It’s one of Rosie’s favorites too, isn’t it Rosie?” The child nods, still watching Keith with interest. “So how have you two been getting on? You doing alright?”

“We’re getting on fine,” Lance answers, scowling at a message on his datapad. “Overworked and underappreciated, but fine.”

“I wish I were overworked,” Keith grumbles, ears pinning back against his head. “I mean, what exactly do they expect me to do? Pidge said that all of my devices are monitored until they can find a way to secure my connections and the guards took everything but my knife when I arrived. There’s not a whole lot of damage a lone Galra can do.”

“Hm.” Hunk passes Rosetta to a delighted Lance, who bounces the little one on his hip. “Remember when ‘innocent until proven guilty’ was a thing?”

“That’s only a thing if the commonwealth asks. The reality is that ‘anything to protect our people’ covers a lot of quiznakery.” Lance sighs, tosses his datapad aside in favor of a cluster of some orbed fruits. He takes one for himself, passes one to Rosetta.

“Thank you,” the child chirps.

“You’re welcome.” Lance beams indulgently at the child.

“Thank you, thank you.” Rosetta grins a wide grin at the prince.

“Well you are very welcome, sweetheart.”

Keith silently watches the exchange, watches as Lance expertly handles the child, bouncing her around and chatting with her while Hunk starts in on an enormous basket of some kind of tuber. The prince seems a natural, happy to engage with the child, setting her at a small table in the corner with a collection of toys, playing some game or another.

Something Keith hadn’t realized he’d been clenching unfurls watching his spouse interact with the child. He imagines that Lance won’t reject him when he inevitably must bear them a kit, and won’t reject their kit either. No. Lance will adore their kits, be a good sire, good father, good mate.

“He loves kids. Wants a small army.” Hunk chuckles. “We’ll see what he says after you guys have your first.”

“Hm.” Keith smiles. “Does he have children already? I know his reputation well, at this point.”

“No. He’s always been careful to prevent such a thing, and if any… prior liaison had a child within a given timeframe, he checked to see if they were his by some small chance. Said that he’d take responsibility, make sure they had that second parent.”

“An honorable cad.”

“I suppose. Oh, there’s a tray of samples for you in that coldbox over there. I’d intended it for lunch, but grab it now and let me know what you think. I haven’t had the opportunity to ask about your food.”

“Thank you.” Keith retrieves the tray, sits across from Hunk and his tubers. “And… thank you. For making me food.”

“It’s all good. Fun, actually. I’ve never experimented with Dabazaani cuisine, despite how close Daibazaal is. You guys have good food. I mean, pretty much everybody has good food, but that purple grass you guys use to make bread? Amazing. Rosie loves it, too. She likes it in her stew.”

Keith smiles. “We like to dip it in stew, too... Why do Alteans all eat off their own plates?”

“Most peoples do. Galra don’t?”

“No. Food is… communion. It’s something to be shared. We take from the same pot. We use a sort of flat, crispy bread-like thing to eat softer foods? It’s difficult to explain. We mostly eat with our hands… Sporks are annoying. I don’t use them if I can help it.” Hunk hums, delightedly interested. Keith takes a risk. “It’s why I didn’t eat with everyone for the first few quintants. I was trying to get better at using one.”

“Really? Lance thought you were just very shy. And maybe didn’t like him all that much." Hunk catches Keith’s eye only for the Galra to look away, folding his arms, hunching over slightly on his stool. He is shy. And seems pretty sweet. “Hey.” The Galra shifts, nervous. “Tell me more about what you like to eat.”

“I like spicy things. And… meat. Altean adults don’t seem to eat meat.”

“No, they don’t. Infants do, for a while. They go through a phase where they eat nothing but meat, actually. I’ll reach out to my contact in Daibazaal to see about adding some to my shipments. Have you been to the infirmary at all?”

“No.”

“You should go and get checked for any deficiencies. I want to make sure you’re getting proper nutrition. Make sure Altea is agreeing with you and all that. It’s very different, isn’t it?”

“Yes. There are plants covering everything! They’re really pretty! And the animals here are cute and don’t bite a whole lot.” Keith's ears perk a bit, his tail sweeping over the floor in long strokes.

“The animals are very friendly -mostly-, and this planet has a lot of vegetation. My home planet is more like Daibazaal. Or maybe a mix of the two. Plenty of plants and animals, but not quite as many. Balmera grow crystals like spines along their nerves. During certain times of year, they will all resonate, and may create a brand new balmera.”

“What… Is Balmera alive?” Keith cocks his head, ears perked with curiosity. He's got wide eyes, Hunk notices, big and dark like the night, shining with curiosity. Lance is doomed.

“Balmera are mineral-based organisms the size of planets. Most are inhabited by entirely unique species. My people are found only on a single Balmera. We love her and care for her. We exist in a completely unique symbiosis.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s very nice. Making the sharing of food a part of your daily routine sounds nice too. Your people must have strong bonds with their friends.”

Keith smiles, strangely emotional. “Thank you. Others don’t say nice things about my people very often. Especially not here… They look at me like I’m a monster. They hate me.”

“Well I don’t hate you. Pidge, my best friend, doesn’t hate you. They seem to like you a lot, actually. As for the Alteans… xenophobia is an integral part of their culture. Lance is frothing at the mouth trying to find a way to take them all down a peg.

“At any rate, don’t pay them any mind. You are not a monster. You’re just a guy, who happens to be a Galra. Just like I happen to be Balmeran. Just like Lance happens to be Altean. Life is arbitrary, but community is not, right? We choose who we share our pot with. I think I’d share mine with you.”

The Balmeran smiles at Keith, and Keith smiles back, eyes suspiciously moist. Poor little buddy. Hunk would absolutely share his pot with him. He’d give Keith a hug, but suspects that he wouldn’t like it. He doesn’t know Hunk well enough. Instead, Hunk finishes preparing his last tuber to be sent to the garrison for the castle’s military, heads to the coldbox.

“I don’t have any pots going at the moment, but I’ve got some dough here for your bread. We can share some of that.”

“Can I help?” Keith asks, looking hopeful. “I can cook. I know how.”

“Of course. Food tastes better with more hands. Lance! Rosie! Come help make bread.”

Lance trots over with the toddler, setting her in a special chair. Keith settles in next to his spouse, teaching him how to knead the grainy dough and twist it into traditional patterns. Hunk and Lance carry most of the conversation, switching from common to Altean every now and then so Rosie doesn’t understand the less appropriate anecdotes and gossip.

Apparently, there’s one particular courtier named Seran who spends most of her time ruining her two children and harassing people for even the slightest perceived inconvenience. They both make good sport out of loudly recounting hyperbolic stories for Keith, complete with exaggerated voices for Seran and her evil, entitled children. Apparently, Seran's wife, Renli, is almost as bad.

It has Keith doubled over with laughter, eyes watering with mirth as Lance recounts the time Seran’s gardener trimmed her moss slightly too short and she’d chased him off down the street while swinging his own rake at him.

It’s not until he and Lance are returning to their room, sneaking loaves of Daibazaani bread back with them, that Keith realizes he’s still smiling. He bumps against Lance’s side, happily twists his tail around Lance’s ankle.

“Thank you. For today, I mean.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Thank you for everything else, too.”

“You’re welcome, Keith. Always.”

[userchandlerhere]

Who: Chandler Pierce & @billiepuckerman When: Friday, July 30th Where: Chandler’s house. What: Chandler invites Billie over to talk about the real reason they broke up, and they agree to give their relationship a second chance Word count: 6,569 Warnings: None

Chandler knew this discussion was going to happen sooner or later, and she still found herself dreading it despite her readiness. If not for the opportunity to try and fix things between the two of them, then perhaps a little closure. The fact that Billie had been upset over the past six months wasn't good news to hear, and she hoped she would be able to get back to her old self after their talk.

Now all she could think about was the possibility of seeing her ex cry in her living room again due to her. She wanted to suggest a spot where they could meet more mutually, but she couldn't think of one that would be quiet or private enough. Pacing back and forth outside of her front door, Chandler tried her best to swallow the lump that was forming on her throat. It felt just as nerve-wracking as the day they broke up, though this time there was a slight sense of hope that things wouldn't turn out as badly.

Billie wasn’t sure what to expect from this talk but her stomach was in knots, she was so nervous. She knew it was needed, even if she was scared to know Chandler’s reason, she was desperate to know *why* it had really ended between them. Billie was a little embarrassed at how obvious it probably was that she was still hung up on the other girl but there wasn’t much she could do about that now.

She felt a horrible sense of deja vu turning up at Chandler’s door like this, thinking back to how awful her last time here was. But if Chandler really was over her, maybe they could still be friends. It would have to be a slow process, because it broke her heart still to imagine being around Chandler when she found a new partner, but maybe she could do it. Billie sighed to herself, realising she was stalling and lifting her hand to knock three times on her ex girlfriend’s door.

Taking a few more deep breaths, she turned the door knob and pulled the door to her. As soon as she opened the door and saw her standing there, she was overcome with emotion, trying her best to keep them under wraps. She didn't know what sprung her sudden courage to rekindle things with Billie, but now it was turning her stomach.

The blonde stood there for what she felt was a moment too long before stepping aside so the other girl could come in. “Hey,” she said softly. While communication between them was nonexistent up until this point, Chandler found herself wanting to be around her as if nothing had happened. It would be nice to pretend things were back to normal and that her partner was back, but she felt that even if they resolved their issues here, the mending of their relationship wouldn’t happen as soon as she’d like.

Billie’s breath caught in her throat as the door opened and she looked at Chandler for the first time in months. For a moment it was almost like everything was normal, like it always had been between them, but there was still that pain and hurt she felt from being around her after everything that had happened. “Hey,” she said softly, wishing she could read minds so she could for once know what her ex-girlfriend was thinking.

Billie moved inside as Chandler stepped back, glancing around the apartment and noting the tiny changes that had probably happened naturally over the past six months. “How have you been?” she asked quietly, standing awkwardly in spot, not sure where Chandler wanted them to sit and talk, and no longer feeling like her apartment was the safe space it used to be. She couldn’t just wander in and sit down like it was her own place anymore. They were way past that comfort.

Chandler watched Billie as she walked in and stood in the middle of the living room. She watched her movements and tried to gauge her mood, something she knew she'd do a lot of throughout the evening. Although she was never great with words or body language, she was familiar enough with her ex to know if she wasn't comfortable. “I’ve been good. You?” She asked instinctively. Small talk rarely interested her but it gave her a moment to regather the thoughts that dissipated once she saw Billie’s face.

All those times Chandler spent crying in her bedroom, or the drunken nights she almost called Billie and invited her over came rushing back. And seeing her only confirmed that the torch she carried for her was still burning. It almost felt pathetic for her to feel the way she did, but what they had was special to her. Even if she acted as though their split didn’t phase her, she was just as much of a mess. “You can sit down if you’d like. I don’t think this conversation is one we should have standing up.” She said, heading towards the couch and sitting down.

“I’ve been... uhm, up and down, I feel like it’d be silly to lie and say I’ve been fine. But I am doing better, I guess. Otis has actually made a big difference, like having someone to take care of even if that someone is a dog,” she laughed slightly, still looking a bit out of place and uncomfortable. “He’s the best, and also an excuse to walk every day, which is always a good thing. I took him on a hike the other day and he was so good, I kept him on the leash the whole time but he seemed to have fun.” She didn’t mean to speak so much but sometimes she got chatty when she was nervous, and Otis really was like a fluffy little angel sent from above. He gave Billie a purpose in a way.

She was mildly aware she was trying to distract herself from the real reason she was here but Chandler’s next words promptly reminded her. She nodded and bit her lip slightly before moving to sit down on the sofa. “Well that doesn’t sound so good,” she tried to joke, cracking a smile but her eyes sad because she had come in expecting the worst. She couldn’t handle getting her hopes up when Chandler had given no indication that she still cared about her.

Although Chandler lacked the perfect emotions at times, Billie was always honest and open about hers, and that was one of the many reasons she loved her. Listening to her go on and on about the new addition to her life, Chandler caught a glimpse of the old Billie and it made her smile. “Maybe one day I’ll get to meet the little guy.” Her comment may have been a tad premature but she knew they’d be back in each other’s lives sooner or later, even if it wasn’t at the capacity she hoped for.

“It won’t be too bad.” Chandler had no idea how much truth that statement contained; she also had no idea how Billie would feel after learning the truth about why their relationship ended. “I know I’ve said this before, but just to reiterate the point, you were not the reason we broke up. I’m not saying that to spare your feelings, I really mean it when I say you were the perfect almost girlfriend I’ve ever had. And the reason we broke up is because I needed to work on myself,” she said, nervously playing with her hands. “I know that sounds like a load of crap but it’s true. When we were dating I started to get in my head about how you could leave just like my birth parents, and I know I could have talked to you about it but I didn’t know how to. I also know that I shouldn’t think everyone is like them, but the only examples I’ve ever had of good relationships that aren’t family based aren’t real. And what we had was pretty perfect, which is why all I could think about was it going wrong somehow, and instead of properly dealing with those feelings I self sabotaged. With all that I hurt you and I’m sorry. It was extremely selfish, a horrible reason to break up with you, and I fully understand if you don’t forgive me, because I wouldn’t either.” She only ever had this conversation with herself, if she could even call it that, so she hoped it made sense.

"I'm sure you will," Billie replied, hoping it was true but also well aware that this entire thing was so complicated already and she still had no idea what Chandler had to say about it all. She was actually quite impressed with herself for not crying at the sight of her ex, which had to be an improvement, right? Maybe things would get better. Maybe they could be friends at some point, even if it wasn't right away. Billie still loved Chandler, and having spent six months without them, she knew she still wanted her in her life in some capacity.

She settled back into the sofa and turned her body to face Chandler, running a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. She remained quiet to let Chandler say what she needed to, not wanting to interrupt before the girl had fully explained, despite wanting to. Chandler had said from the beginning that it wasn't Billie's fault but she'd still put it all on herself anyway. She'd blamed herself for everything because why else would Chandler leave her? But then Chandler described her as *the most perfect girlfriend I've ever had* and those words had Billie's heart racing a little faster in her chest because if her ex was being honest it meant that she hadn't been nothing to her, in fact, she'd meant a lot. She had ducked her head as the other had started talking but she looked up now to meet her eyes, shuffling closer on instinct and taking Chandler's hand as Billie chewed at her bottom lip. She wasn't sure where to start, really. There was a lot to unpack and although Billie could understand where Chandler was coming from it still hurt like hell that she hadn't talked to her about this. "Okay," she said quietly, breathing out slowly, "I really fucking wish you'd just been honest with me from the beginning, though. Did you not feel able to talk to me about this? Because you did break my heart. I was head over heels in love with you and I'd always thought we were good at communicating with one another."

This was the first time she had ever explained why the two of them had split up, and even though she still thought it sounded like nonsense coming out of her mouth, it was nice to get it off her chest. With that behind her, she could feel a bit better knowing things could only go up from here. Right? It felt nice to be this close to Billie again. So taking advantage of this opportunity, Chandler slipped her fingers between her own and held on tight, hoping that she wouldn't let go. “There was no one I felt I could talk to about this.” Her grip loosened as the harsh reality of having broken her heart set in. “You were good at it. I don’t think I ever really was.” She wouldn’t say she kept secrets from Billie, but there were a few things she didn’t feel the need to talk about. It was no use making them both upset with her problems. “Also for your information, I was head over heels too. I merely got too overwhelmed with the idea of us not being together forever, and I wussed out. This being my first relationship ever I didn’t think talking to you about us breaking up was on the list of things to bring up. I didn’t want to jinx it by talking about it either, and I know that’s not smart, but neither am I.” A tad defeated, Chandler closed the remaining space between them and laid her head on Billie’s shoulder. The more she talked about this, the more she realized it could have been a mistake. What if all of this made them hate her even more? Maybe they would have been better off ignoring each other until one of them eventually moved out of town. The only thing she knew was she did not want to be the one crying after this ended.

Bille ducked her head as Chandler's hand tightened on hers, wanting to lean into the familiar touch, to move closer, but knowing she had to keep a handle on herself today. For once she needed to listen a little more to her head, and a little less to her heart. Although she'd never been very good at that, especially with Chandler involved. "I just... wish you'd said *something*," Bille murmured, chewing a little at the inside of her cheek. "And you don't need to make out like I was perfect in this relationship, Chandler. I know I'm not perfect, but I was trying. And the worst part about the whole thing was for me it felt like you weren't, like you'd just given up on me, like I wasn't worth it anymore and all those promises we'd made to each other just meant nothing." She couldn't hold herself back anymore and her free arm wound around her ex-girlfriend, holding her against her and sighing softly, her eyes sad still. "You know I think the key to a relationship is conversing. Talking to each other about shit we're going through because we're together and that means we go through that shit *together*, at least in my eyes. And I had absolutely no intentions to leave you, and I'm sorry you felt like that's how it would end, it makes me really sad to think you were thinking I would hurt you like that. But you realise how difficult that was for me, right? I know it seems like I'm open emotionally, and I am in relationships, yes, but every time I've had my heartbroken by someone it hurts a little bit more, because I let myself get vulnerable every time. And it's getting to the point where I'm fucking terrified of being vulnerable. When you broke up with me, I remember thinking *what's the fucking point* because if this is what happens every time I don't think I want another relationship. And it hurt more than it ever had before when I lost you, because you've always been different. You've always meant so much more to me."

For the moment, her hopes for their future were gone. Having hurt her that much, who knows what else would happen if she was given a second chance? Chandler didn't understand how she could be anything more than a friend to her after all that had happened. In order to keep her emotions in check, she decided to ignore them for now, and smiled softly as Billie held her close. Giving into temptation, she wrapped her arms around her ex-girlfriend and buried her face into her neck. After listening to Billie, she realized that she wasn't the one who deserved any comfort at this time, but she didn't know what to do. She thought back to Maisie's words about karma coming her way. Maybe not getting a second chance with Billie was it. Surely she could fix every mistake she'd ever made, if only she knew how, but the damage had already been done. In light of that, Chandler would forever regret her failure to make the minimum efforts to make their relationship work. There was nothing more she could do than try to be the best she could be to Billie, in whatever way she would allow her. Communication *is* the key to a happy relationship. And ironically, it was the very thing Chandler always pointed out in romcoms that would cause the relationship to fail that ended up ruining her own. “This is going to sound cheesy but, that’s what made you perfect to me. You gave me your all, and I’ll always love you for that.” She spoke, moving her head just enough for her voice to be heard. “I did exactly what I was afraid you’d do to me, but worse, and I understand that now. I know I've already said it and I will say it again as many times as I need to; I’m sorry. Even if it feels like a lie, I still love you and I’m sorry.” She wanted to offer up a way to fix it or say she wished she could have a second chance, yet neither of those options felt like enough for what she’d done.

Billie felt her heart fill as Chandler curled closer, and she reacted on instinct, leaning into her touch and relaxing. She'd spent months beating herself up for not being able to get over her but mere seconds in her arms and she felt like she was home again. The only thing was, they weren't partners anymore, and Chandler had really hurt her. That didn't mean that Billie didn't try her best to see the other woman's perspective though. She wanted to consider the other side to the story, the true reasoning behind all of this heartbreak. And when her ex said those words, and she realised that Chandler still loved her, she felt her breath catch in her throat, because hadn't that been her fear this entire time? Billie had thought Chandler had just fallen out of love with her, and she'd been holding onto a long dead, one-sided relationship for far too long. But what if that wasn't the case? What if Chandler was telling the truth? Billie shifted back, moving her hands to cup Chandler's face gently and tilt it up to meet her gaze. She breathed out shakily, biting at her bottom lip and trying her fucking hardest not to cry at the sight of her. Chandler was far too beautiful for her own good and Billie felt her heart ache with want. "You really still love me?" she managed to whisper after a brief hesitation, blinking through damp eyelashes. "Because you never seemed like-" she paused, her thumb brushing gently over the girl's cheek as she clenched her jaw slightly, "from where I sat it never seemed like you were that beaten up about us breaking up."

When she saw her ex's face, Chandler did her to keep her expression as neutral as possible, despite the thoughts in her head that were far from it. All of those old feelings that she would claim had subsided were right there on the surface. Sure, she hated herself for it, but this was the happiest she'd been in a long time. Chandler could feel herself losing what little control she had. In that moment she wanted to kiss her so badly, but that wasn't why she invited Billie over. It was only supposed to be a conversation, but there they were, wrapped around each other, faces inches apart. "It's not something that goes away. At least not for me." After taking Billie's question into account, she realized why she believed their relationship had ended. Closing her eyes once reality set in once again. Chandler was aware that she put up a facade after their breakup, yet she was not convinced she was fooling anyone. "Yeah, guess that's what happens when you repress your emotions." The months after their breakup weren't her proudest moments. It may have taken a while to convince herself, but Chandler began to believe that Billie would be better off without her. And that's when the Tinder dates and random hook ups happened. While she pretended their break-up wasn't the cause of the sudden changes in her behavior, she knew in her heart that it was. "Now do you believe me now when I say you had nothing to do with our break up?" She asked, softly smiling as her eyes returned to Billie's.

“It’s not something that goes away for me, either,” she whispered back, her hands still gently cupping Chandler’s face but shifting to put a tiny bit more space between them. She didn’t want to risk falling back into old comforts before they’d talked this out properly, and she knew if she stared into her eyes for much longer she wouldn’t be able to hold back from trying to kiss her. “I think I’ll always love you, no matter what happens. Even when loving you has hurt… but I’m sorry I was so focused on the rejection and its reflection on myself that I didn’t see… that I didn’t see through it. My insecurities made me lose sight of things and I regret that.” She slowly dropped her hands from Chandler’s face then, breathing out slowly and chewing at her bottom lip again. She reached for the other woman though, pulling Chandler over her lap and holding her against her. Billie’s head ducked down into Chandler’s neck now, her hand smoothing gently over her back. “I don’t know if I wholeheartedly agree I had nothing to do with it,” she mumbled softly, her body relaxing at the close proximity, the familiarity of the blonde’s touch. Billie had never loved any of her exes like she loved Chandler, and she knew that was worth a second chance if this was what her ex was insinuating. But she also knew that it couldn’t happen 100% right away. They needed to talk this through properly because she knew she couldn’t survive a second heartbreak from the woman she loved. “But I’m glad you told me this. I’m glad you wanted to talk.” She hesitated a moment and then leaned back in the sofa to meet Chandler’s gaze once more. “I need to ask though, what are you wanting from this talk? Do you just want to be my friend? Or are you… are you saying that you… that you want me again? Because I just… I just need to know what you want…”

Chandler shook her head in disbelief. Her attempt to get through to Billie was not as successful as she initially thought. "Apology not accepted, respectfully. The one who should apologize here is not you, Billie." She said, noticing the small change in her mood. But she chose to ignore it as she was being pulled into her lap, liking the change in positions. Without addressing any further rebuttals about the reason they broke up, Chandler snaked her arm behind Billie's back, laying her head on top of the brunette's. She inhaled deeply, taking in her scent and smiling sweetly.  She missed this. And she knew that once their conversation ended, she would miss it even more. "You deserved to know." The realization that Billie could give her another chance caused a wave of emotions to wash over her. "I..I..umm-" she stammered, feeling her heartbeat quicken. Her nerves may not be evident from her face, but her voice would definitely reveal them. The very thing she was hoping for, yet she was unsure how to react to it. If she knew then what she knew now, she would have reached out sooner. This talk is what they needed to get back to them, before all the arguing and the heartbreak. Even if things weren't entirely back to normal right away, Chandler knew they'd be better soon enough. "Having you back in my life in any capacity would be nice. Friends would be a great start, and as much as I want a second chance I don't think I deserve one," she stated truthfully. "But that's also not my choice to make. So if another shot is on the table, then I will take it and I promise not to break your heart again." She felt less afraid about taking on the role of her girlfriend now that she knew Billie was here to stay. Her eyes fell to her lips, then instinctively she licked her own before meeting her gaze.

Billie sighed softly at that response, lifting her hand to tuck a blonde hair back behind Chandler's ear, her other arm curled completely around her ex partner, holding her close. There was something so warm and familiar about this, something so comforting and *right* that meant Billie knew she wouldn't be able to say no to her, not completely, not when being together like this was something she'd been craving the entire time they'd been apart. There was a reason this heartbreak had hurt the most. Billie stilled believed in her heart that Chandler was *the one* for her.  She looked back up as she heard Chandler stammer slightly, her hand moving back to cup her cheek and smiling just softly, hoping it would comfort the other as she ran her thumb gently over her skin. "I don't really want to be friends," Billie admitted quietly, honestly, noticing the glance down at her lips and instead of giving in to that perfect pull, she leaned in to rest her forehead against Chandler's. "Because you're always going to be more than just a friend to me, Chandler. But... but if we do this again, we need to go slow. I need to learn to trust you again." Her free arm moved to stroke gently up and down her ex partner's back as she ducked her eyes down, having felt like she was losing herself a little in Chandler's beautiful, blue eyes. "And I need to know that if you want to be with me, that you genuinely want to be my partner, my girlfriend. Or at least that you'll be able to call me your girlfriend at some point. I'm in this because I want it to last forever, because I love you. I just can't do it one-sided."

Chandler softened every time Billie cupped her cheek, blushing a little more with every touch. When Billie was behind them, even the smallest of actions were enough to send her into a tizzy. "You mean you don't want to be *just* friends. Because you're gonna be my friend even if we get together." Her nose scrunching up as she teased. For a while, she feigned a smile as she thought about how to respond. *Forever*. Who knew her certainty could be shaken by one word? Chandler could feel the lump forming in her throat as she contemplated all the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios in her head. She had relapsed into her old ways for a split second. Listening to the negative thoughts in her head instead of following her heart to her heart. Making herself feel bad about what could be the best decision of her life. Her gaze shifted to Billie and, seeing her face made Chandler light up. What was she doing? She wanted this and, she wasn't going to let anything get in the way this time. "I'll admit I'm scared, but being your girlfriend would be the best possible outcome to us starting over." With a nod, she drowned out the tiny voice in her head. She was doing this, and hopefully better this time. "But if we're taking it slow, could you try your hardest to avoid giving me those kiss me eyes? I'm really trying my best to keep it together here." She huffed, slightly nudging Billie with her forehead. Their time together would be a true test of her patience if they spent it this way. It wasn't that Chandler didn't love being cuddled up with Billie daily, but she could only handle so much before she overstepped.

Bille brightened at the other woman's rewording of what she had said because it was so true. They'd always been friends *and* partners, never just one or the other, and it was a big part of why Chandler had left such a hole in her life when they broke up. Billie continued to gently pet at her cheek as the girl's expression faltered, she needed Chandler to know that she was here now and would always be so long as she was still wanted. She hated the idea that Chandler had just been scared and unable to voice her fears to anyone. She'd always wanted to be *everything* for her, and perhaps accepting that you can't be *everything* for someone was important in this. "Do you want to talk more about what you're scared about?" she asked anyway, meeting Chandler's gaze once more and biting at her bottom lip, wanting her to know that she could talk to her if she wanted to. She couldn't hold in her soft chuckle at her next words though, Billie's eyes crinkling as she smiled and gently kissed the corner of Chandler's mouth, barely a brush of lips but hopefully enough to convey how much she still loved and adored her. "Kissy eyes?" she whispered as she pulled back just a little, tilting her head. "I didn't realise I was doing any such thing," she teased softly, but the reality was that Billie wanted nothing more than to kiss her properly again.

Chandler liked that they could slip back into their old ways. Obviously,  some things were different now but they were close enough to the same for things to be less than awkward between them. "Just the usual what if I mess up again stuff. It's not anything worth talking about right now, but I've gotten better with expressing my feelings when they're *really* bothering me, so you won't have to worry about me keeping anything from you this time."In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have kept them to herself the first time, but she'd always prefer dealing with her problems alone, even though it was ineffective. When Billie grazed her lips against hers, Chandler let out an exaggerated gasp. "That was unfair and you know it." She thought about getting revenge but she decided she'd behave herself for now. From now on, they'd see each other more often, so she had plenty of time to get her back. Opting for a kiss on the cheek instead, she then moved out of her lap and sat next to her. "But I think we should call it a night." She said, her hands reaching out to take hers. If Chandler had her way, she would ask Billie to stay over, but she knew that wouldn't be a good thing, no matter how much either of them might want to prolong this visit.

Billie bit her tongue, holding herself back from pushing for more from Chandler. She wanted to make things better, to fix everything for her so they could be completely happy together forever but she also knew that it wasn't realistic to think like that, to expect to be able to solve everyone's problems when she still had plenty of her own to contend with. Besides, a good relationship shouldn't be about solving problems, but instead about being there, side by side, throughout them all. At least that's what Billie thought. She chuckled at the reaction from the soft kiss to the corner of her lips, knowing why the other woman had gasped because there was nothing Billie would love more than to pull her close and kiss her properly. She missed how close they used to be, and naturally, a lot of that comfort that they'd built together still remained. "I'm not trying to tease you," Billie said honestly, once again brushing her thumb over Chandler's cheek but smiling softly as she pulled back, squeezing her hands and nodding. "But I do think you're right. It's late and I've got work tomorrow morning anyway... Can I call you? Can we do something soon? Together?"

Chandler understood Billie's need to help, but there were some things beyond her control. Neither of them could predict how their relationship would turn out and that's what scared her the most. Not knowing something as big as this left her with a tinge of doubt, and she was aware she couldn't know everything, yet it failed to set well with her. The difference this time was that she felt capable of handling her fear of the unknown. And she knew letting herself be happy instead of worrying about how things could go wrong was a better idea than any. She knew relationships weren't supposed to be perfect. Chandler knew they would have some ups and downs, but at least she was now confident she could tell her friend anything - good or bad. She knew Billie meant well, and she understood the necessity of taking things slowly, but it didn't help make any of this easier. "Yes, yes, and absolutely." She replied, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced over at Billie with a soft smile.

Billie smiled back at that, leaning closer to pull Chandler into a tight hug, and enjoying the comfort she hadn’t been able to before. Billie had always been someone who enjoyed physical affection, whether that be hugging her friends and family or holding her partner. And she couldn’t deny that she was nervous about what could happen because Chandler once again had Billie’s heart held precariously between her hands. But she was willing to give that over if she got to experience being loved by Chandler Pierce again. That was ultimately worth any heartbreak and hurt. Chandler was the one for her, and these six months apart had been more painful than she was willing to admit, even to Maisie, though she knew her best friend may not be super accepting straight away of the idea of this relationship rekindling.  “I could cook for you, maybe. Or we could go out for a meal,” Billie suggested as she pulled back, her eyes crinkling as she smiled again. “I can’t remember which days I’m working but I’ll call and we... we can figure it all out.” She took Chandler’s hands then and nodded, squeezing them gently before standing. “Can I just say... I really hope you can trust me when I say this relationship is so important to me. I wouldn’t be giving this a second chance usually but I can’t not. I’m not going anywhere unless you genuinely don’t want me around, so please try not to worry about that. This is real and I know we work perfectly together, despite our ups and downs, there’s no one else in this world I’d rather commit to.”

"Both are great ideas. And who knows? Maybe before you realize this was all a big mistake we'll get to do both." She had a teasing tone, but there was some truth in what she said. In most cases, Chandler was always optimistic, so why was she not in this situation? Experiencing ups and downs like this had her feeling like she was on an emotional roller coaster. While Billie's ways of sharing her feelings with her should have proven that her heart was in good hands, it still failed to quiet the nagging voice in the back of her head. The voice that made her think of all the bad ways this could end. At the very least, she could say she tried, even if they didn't work out. "You're perfect, Billie." As she stood up, her hands moved to cup Billie's face, momentarily studying her face. Chandler could tell the brunette until she was blue in the face how amazing she was, but knowing their break-up didn't help her insecurities, it might take a while for her to accept it. Sighing softly, Chandler rested her hands on her ex's shoulders. She desperately missed how affectionate Billie had been, and if it were possible she would spend the rest of the night in her arms. "I want nothing more than for you to be around all the time, and if you think we're meant to be then there must be some truth to that. I'm not worried at all about anything *you're* going to do. I completely understand you giving us another shot is a privilege, and I'm hoping you can trust me not to make a mess of this a second time." Having already been through so much heartache, and hearing Billie say they were meant to be together, Chandler did not want to risk having the same problem again.

"We *will* get to do both, and much more," Billie said confidently, despite having her fears still in the back of her mind she wanted them to both think as positively about this as they could. Relationships were never easy but she knew she was willing to put in the work this time to make the most of their second chance together. Billie found herself flushing slightly in her cheeks as Chandler spoke then, shaking her head slightly at the idea of her being perfect, but smiling softer as the other woman cupped her face gently in her hands. Billie turned her eyes to meet Chandler's gaze, her arm looping around her partner's waist as she felt her hands settle on her shoulders. Were they partners now? Billie held back her tongue to ask, knowing the specifics weren't important in this moment. They were going slow anyway. "I think there is some truth to it," she said, her eyes crinkling a little as she smiled wider. "More than just some, actually. And although it might take us a little time to trust each other again I want to do it, for you, for us." She pulled back reluctantly then, taking Chandler's hand to pull her over with her as she moved toward the door, not wanting to be far from her now that she didn't have to avoid her. "I'll call you tomorrow," she repeated again, squeezing her ex's hand and leaning in to kiss her cheek before reaching to open the door. "I love you and I'll see you soon."

"I can't wait!", she exclaimed. Chandler knew she needed to be in a more optimistic mindset about them if she wanted their relationship to work. The blonde never understood what Billie saw in her; to be honest, and she was self-conscious about asking, but she would show the brown-eyed girl she was worth it. It'd be crazy for her to not give her all given this second chance because she loved Billie and Billie loved her. How could she know for sure they weren't meant to be together if she never gave them a try?  She had no idea what their relationship would be like now, but she was glad they could now talk to one another again. No more avoiding each other to escape the possible awkwardness. And they may not have completely trusted each other, yet their body language suggested otherwise. In Billie's arms, she was reminded of how much she missed being around her ex-girlfriend. "I love you too, and yes you will. Pretty, pretty, *pretty* please text me when you get home." She said, smiling sweetly at her before closing the door behind her. She wanted things to get back to normal but she knew it would take time for either of them to get to that point. Chandler was a little hesitant about everything but was happy that they were taking things slowly.

[thedormdietitian]

Why I’m Leaving the Field

Hi everyone!

It’s been quiiiiiiite a while since I’ve posted on here, and I’m really sorry about that! One perk of quarantine is that I’ve had a whole lot of extra free time, so here we are.

In my last post (done almost 2 years ago....how?!), I shared my thoughts on the lack of jobs for dietitians. Well, shortly after posting that, I was fortunate to land a job in the world of inpatient dietetics. It was in my dream area and I was thrilled to a) have a full time job and b) have it be in the area I have my degrees in. In today’s rather pathetic millennial society, I recognize how lucky I am to have a job that fits both of those categories. But anyways, as you can tell by the title of this post, I will (hopefully) be leaving this job, and this field, soon.

I’ll try to keep this post short and sweet, but I have to admit that I never thought I would actually be writing this. I was a young, spry 18 year old when I decided on this career. I was slightly obnoxious over how proud I was for never changing my major and I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Maybe this is payback? I truly thought this was the career for me and I didn’t let anything get in the way of that. There were many times during both undergrad and grad school that I wanted to quit, but I did not let anything get in my way. I was so beyond determined to hurry up and graduate and start my dream career, and I was ecstatic to land the job that I did.

Now that I’m looking back, I realized this career wasn’t for me during my internship. On my second day of my clinical rotations, I cried on my whole drive home. After a whole two days at my rotation site, I knew didn’t chose the right career. I’ve never told ANYONE this because I was so embarrassed that it took me years of schooling to realize that; and here I am, in a coveted and competitive internship, realizing that this wasn’t what I wanted. So, I sucked it up and just told myself I was overreacting, and that there was no way in hell I would quit the internship because I was lucky to be there. It took me quite a while to grapple that idea. 

Now, to get to the why am I leaving the field? I’ve been at my job for a while now. Again, I realize, especially now, how fortunate I am to even have a job, let alone contemplate a career change. But, if this helps anyone thinking of becoming a dietitian, then I’m glad I put this out here. Here are the reasons why I am leaving the field:

-We have to get permission for EVERYTHING. This is possibly what bothers me the most. Everyone I work with has advanced degrees, tons of experience, and credentials, yet we have to ask permission to do the very things that we’ve been trained to do. Want to order a vitamin level? Call the doctor. Want to change tube feeds because the patient is off the ventilator? Call the doctor. Want to correct your patient’s diet order? Call the doctor. At my hospital, we are the only group of providers that has to get permission to do anything. I see MDs order speech evals, or PT/OT evals, and they just say “evaluate and treat”. No physical therapist is calling the doctor to see if it’s ok to do this certain exercise on a patient. Even if we get an order for tube feeds, we have to call the doctor (who ordered the consult) to see if, yes, they truly want tube feeds. Doctors don’t have a clue what exercises should be done, just like they don’t know what tube feeds a patient should be on. I’m not slamming doctors at all; that’s why different specialties and careers exist. But why can’t dietitians be treated like other professions? It’s ridiculous to call to get permission to DO OUR JOBS.

-The pay. I knew I wouldn’t be a millionaire as a dietitian, but I didn’t think the pay would be that dismal. Sitting in the office everyday, at least one person complains about not having enough money. Our raises are very small and are automatic; we get them each year whether we are good at our job or not. There are no incentives to perform better. I’m a strong believer in working hard because that’s what you should do, but it gets pretty dang annoying to see people in other careers who get lucrative bonuses for simply doing things required for their jobs. At my workplace, you don’t get extra pay if you get your CNSC/CDE/etc, see extra patients, come in early, or anything else. Your pay doesn’t change except for your yearly raise. Hearing my coworkers complain about money on the daily really starts to get to me, especially after working so hard to get here. A few of my coworkers have worked at my workplace for 30+ years and don’t even come close to making $70k. Hearing that they can’t afford to do needed house repairs, or fix their cars, or even go on vacation with their kids gets really depressing. I even have a coworker who has to give up her shift if her mom can’t watch her kids because she can’t afford to pay for childcare. You wouldn’t think any of those things would be a concern working in healthcare! Dietitians work insanely hard to even become a dietitian, and our jobs are demanding. Our pay needs to reflect that. See my previous post for salary comparisons in healthcare careers. I had a professor in undergrad who said dietitians will only be successful financially if their spouses are the breadwinners. I brushed her comment off at first, but after working in the field, SHE WAS RIGHT. I have a lot of coworkers, and the ones who are truly happy in this field are the ones that have spouses who are breadwinners. Because money DOES matter. I want to be able to take care of myself, buy things I need, fix things that break, and yes, go on vacation. I don’t even have kids yet, but the number of times I’ve already thought about not being able to afford things for them freaks me out. I’ve known dietitians who work for WIC who are on WIC themselves.That is not even slightly ok. I am not shaming those who use WIC; but to be a dietitian and meet the salary requirements for WIC is mind-boggling. Your education is an investment; you want a solid return on that investment. If you’ve ever paid for a dietetic internship, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

-Lack of leadership. Sorry, but I can’t stand the Academy. Using my example of physical therapists again, their “academy” fought for them to raise their pay and to improve the field, and they did. The only advancement in our field is the new “RDN” credential, which, frankly, just brings more confusion on who we are and tacks on the word “nutritionist”, something that 99.9% of dietitians hate being called. The Academy is also requiring all RD’s to have Masters degrees by 2024. I interviewed for quite a few jobs, and having a Masters does nothing for your duties/responsibilities, and results in a very minimal salary adjustment. We can do better. Making it even harder to enter into this field or slightly changing our name won’t help anyone.

-Lack of support for the field. Excluding FNCE, have you ever been to a dietitian conference? They’re usually in a random hall at hospital. Have you ever seen a conference for other health professions? They’re usually at a gorgeous resort on an island. Because of our poor pay, very few dietitians are actually able to support their profession financially. This results in lackadaisical events that are frankly depressing to be at. It’s not about the glitz and glamour; its about supporting the profession and being enthusiastic about it. These events that are held should make people want to join our profession, not run the other way. 

-Job outlook. As a clinical inpatient dietitian, I don’t see my exact position being around for much longer. Especially with losses in revenue amongst hospitals due to COVID, I truly (and unfortunately) think this position will eventually be phased out. In my city, a lot of hospitals have already started cutting their clinical inpatient diet techs, and I think dietitians are next. And it kills me to say that, because our job is needed. But since nurses can (and have) been doing our educations, pharmacy can order TPNs, and residents can stumble through ordering tube feeds, I think our job has shifted into the “not really necessary but nice to have” category. Which really, really sucks. But even in the few years I’ve been a dietitian, I’ve seen the shift. I think outpatient and community RD jobs will always be there, but I think inpatient dietitians are going to be a thing of the past very soon. Starting your own business has become more popular. If you can make it work, go for it. There is a dietitian “business coach” who started her own Instagram business after realizing clinical just isn’t where it’s at, and that new clinical jobs are becoming few and far between. And honestly, she’s right. Post-pandemic, look at the number of job opportunities in your area. It’s a shrinking number.

So that’s that. I’m sure this came off as negative, but someone needs to be telling others this. As much as I love nutrition and am passionate about helping those improve their health with nutrition, this career just isn’t worth it. I hope to always use my RD roots in my next career and I don’t regret the years of schooling I’ve done. But if you’re considering this route, I want you to recognize that this career isn’t even close to what your professors have chalked it up to be. If anything, if you are in college right now, GO SHADOW. Shadow inpatient, shadow outpatient, go see what the job is like. See how happy they are in their jobs, learn their salaries, learn what they love, what they don’t love, and truly see if you can see yourself in this job. That’s what I would tell my 18 year old self, and it’s what I’m telling you as well. 

xoxo,

The Dorm Dietitian