#trust me my dad works at Paramount

[midwestmade29]

Anonymous Request #2

Bonus Mom Word count: 1,587 Divider by: @saradika-graphics Original anonymous request: "Can I send in a request? After that Christmas proposal fic it melted my heart when Isla asked the reader to be her bonus mom! 🥺❤️Anyway we can get a fic of moments where the reader is being the best bonus mom?"

Only disclaimer: your heart may melt from all the cuteness 🥹

I really loved this request! It was so cute & fun. Thanks again for the request! I enjoyed writing it for you 🖤

When Christian first introduced you to his daughter, you were a nervous wreck. “What if she doesn’t like me? What if she thinks I’m weird? Or that I’m not funny?” were just some of the thoughts that crossed your mind before meeting her. It was paramount to you that things worked out since your relationship with Christian was getting serious, so there was the potential of the 3 of you becoming your own little family one day. You wanted nothing more than for her to accept you and to build a good relationship with her.

Fast forward to now and the two of you are inseparable! You and Christian’s daughter hit it off right away, developing a bond and a connection even stronger than you ever could’ve imagined. You quickly fell in love with her spunky and fun personality, and it was evident that she’s just an all-around awesome kid! There’s never a dull moment when you’re together, always laughing and being silly, sometimes even joining forces to play a prank or two on Christian. Of course, there were some instances when things weren’t so easy. This new relationship dynamic between you provided tons of learning moments as the two of you got used to each other. She had to test the waters and push some buttons to see just how far she could get with you, and you had to stand your ground to let her know that you weren’t always going to give in. Even when she did push the boundaries, you embraced it because it meant she felt safe and comfortable showing you all the different sides of herself to you. At the end of the day, she trusted you and welcomed you with open arms and an open heart.

After dinner one night, it was time to work on the homework Christian’s daughter had brought home from school with her. She went to the living room and grabbed her folder and a pencil before rejoining you at the kitchen table. When you noticed that it was math homework, you sighed internally because math was not your favorite subject. You always tried your best to help her with it, even though sometimes it felt like she was teaching you a thing or two instead of the other way around. She’s just too smart! Christian was currently in a different state for Dynamite or else you’d stick him on math homework duty. After watching a how-to video on YouTube and 30 minutes later, the homework was finally finished. “Phew! Who knew 3rd grade math was so hard!” you joked. “Tell me about it!” she quipped back. “They just teach it differently now compared to when I was a kid. I’ll get the hang of it eventually.” “You mean back in the olden days? Did you stink at math back then too?” she jested playfully. “Math has never been my favorite but give me an English assignment and I’d totally ace that! Now, let’s get our comfy clothes on and get ready to watch your dad on tv before you have to go to bed.”

You always tried to show interest in her hobbies and her favorite things, even if some of them you didn’t really know much about. She always lit up whenever she talked about her deep love for reptiles; lizards, snakes, turtles, you name it! While you didn’t quite share the same sentiment about them, you still did your research to learn more so you could try and keep up with her conversations about them. One night when you and Christian were lying in bed, an idea came to you that made you incredibly excited. “Do you think she would like to do that?” you asked trying to contain yourself. “She would love it! I can’t believe I didn’t think about doing something like that before.” Christian approved, while being a little envious of your clever thinking. After letting out a happy shriek, you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and began searching for any reptile sanctuaries near you.

The very next day, you and Christian told his daughter that you were taking her on a surprise day trip. The entire 2-hour ride to the sanctuary, she tried to guess where you were going, but she never figured it out. You would’ve thought you were at Disney world the way she screamed when she read the sign after you pulled into the parking lot! It was amazing to see all the creatures the reptile sanctuary had taken in and were caring for. Some were in bad health and needed a lot of TLC, some had been displaced from their original homes and habitats, while others were just waiting to find their forever homes. “Would you like to hold one?” the caretaker asked Christian’s daughter. Pure happiness spread across her face as they handed her a small spotted gecko. “Do you know what type of gecko this one is?” the caretaker asked her. Without hesitation, she immediately said “That’s easy! It’s a leopard gecko. They usually live in desert like areas, and they like rocky surfaces.” You and Christian stared at each other in amazement, and the caretaker was even taken back a little by her proficient knowledge. “Very good! Now, I’d love to hear what you know about our snakes over there. They’re about due for their lunch so you can feed a few if you’d like.” As soon as the word “snake” left the caretakers lips, you cringed at the thought of the slithering serpents. “Do you want to hold one Y/N?” she asked you about the snake in the enclosure before you. Christian chuckled to himself at your weariness, causing you to scowl at him in return. You’d do anything for this little girl, even step out of your comfort zone and let a ball python wrap itself around your hand.

It had been “one of those days” for you and Christian’s daughter. Nothing seemed to be going right since the moment you woke up this morning! There was barely a moment of rest for you all day since you were so busy, and on the car ride home she explained that her school day was rough too. Both of you plopped down on the couch when you got home, ready to veg out and decompress for a little while. “When is Daddy going to be home?” she asked. Christian had been gone for several days traveling with AEW, but he was coming home tonight. “Hopefully in just a couple hours sweetie, as long as his flight is on schedule.” You replied softly. A hug and a kiss from Christian were definitely the cure for the challenging day you both had. Unfortunately, things still didn’t go in your favor as the night went on. Little problems somehow turned into bigger ones, making you and Christian’s daughter feel even more down in the dumps. The worst part of all was seeing her break down in tears after you got an unexpected phone call from Christian. “I’m sorry baby, my connecting flight has been delayed due to bad weather. I’m looking into getting a different flight but it’s not looking good.”

Once you were off the phone, you wrapped her in a tight hug and shed a few tears yourself. “Daddy is trying all he can to get home sweetie. If we can’t see him tonight, he’ll definitely be here in the morning.” Another hour passed by without a call or text from Christian. You had let his daughter stay up as long as you could, but it was now time for her to get to bed. After brushing her teeth and getting pajamas on, you helped her get situated in bed. You covered her up, then sat on top of the covers and grabbed the chapter book the two of you had been reading together. You took turns reading the pages until you got to the end of the chapter. She wasn’t quite ready for you to leave yet since she was still upset that Christian still wasn’t home, so you agreed to lay with her until she fell asleep. Somewhere between staring at the ceiling and hating airplanes, you had fallen asleep too. It wasn’t until way later in the night that you were awoken by a kiss on your forehead. “Hi baby…” Christian whispered. It took you a minute to come to before you fully realized where you were and to believe what you were seeing. Christian smiled at your drowsiness as he helped you stand and wrapped you in a tight bear hug. “I missed you.” He spoke softly into your ear. You pulled your face back far enough so you could kiss him like you’ve wanted to do so badly ever since he left for his multi state trip with AEW. “Why don’t you tuck her back in and I’ll meet you downstairs.” You suggested quietly. Christian nodded as you walked over to the doorway. You swooned when you turned around and saw him pulling the blankets over her arms and give his little girl a kiss her on the cheek. Morning couldn’t come fast enough because you knew exactly how excited she was going to be having her Daddy back home!

“Bonus Mom” was your new favorite title. It was a name you don’t take lightly because it meant everything to you being a part of this little girl’s life. You would always be there for her no matter what, and you couldn’t wait to make more memories together!

Thanks for reading 🖤

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[laresearchette]

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NLL LACROSSE (TSN5) 6:30pm: Desert Dogs vs. Thunderbirds

TRAFFICKED VOICES (documentary) 7:00pm: Canada's sex trafficking industry is reaching a national crisis level. Three survivors of trafficking tell their stories.

WARRIOR STRONG (Crave) 7:15pm: Trying to save his career, a suspended professional basketball player returns home to coach his former high school team.

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1/SNOntario) 7:30pm: Rockets vs. Raptors (TSN2/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 8:00pm: Hornets vs. Bucks (SN1) 10:30pm: Pelicans vs. Lakers

NHL HOCKEY (SNEast/SNPacific) 8:00pm: Penguins vs. Wild (SNWest) 10:00pm: Oilers vs. Ducks

RIVALRY SERIES HOCKEY (TSN/TSN4) 8:00pm: United States vs. Canada

MARKETPLACE (CBC) 8:00pm: A cyber scam known as pig butchering combines investment schemes, romance scams and cryptocurrency fraud; meeting people who lost their life savings and the trust of their loved ones.

MILLION DOLLAR ISLAND (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm: Wheel winner Jake is in charge of who will be chosen for the next elimination challenge.

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF JERSEY (Slice) 8:00pm: Reunion

BOLLYWED (documentary) 8:00pm: With two renos and peak wedding season underway, Kuki decides the whole family needs to attend all customer weddings together.

GARAGE SALE MYSTERIES: PICTURE A MURDER (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: Jenn gets the photos in an antique camera from the estate of a recently deceased and seemingly wealthy photography enthusiast printed, and one of the pictures leads her to believe that the man's death was anything but accidental.

ABOUT THAT (CBC) 8:30pm

THE FIFTH ESTATE (CBC) 9:00pm: A look at hate groups that are targeting kids on social media, where they are lead to self-harm, plan violent attacks and end their lives; and how police are often unable to act.

AKILLA'S ESCAPE (Crave) 9:00pm: A drug dealer finds his moral code challenged when he interrupts an armed robbery and captures one of the gang members who is a 15-year-old boy.

EDGE OF THE KNIFE (Starz Camada) 9:00pm: A tragic accident causes an anguished man to retreat deep into the forest where he is transformed into a "wild man."

THE SUMMIT AUSTRALIA (Discovery Canada) 9:30pm: Sam's betrayal costs the group more than time and money; Jans finds a way into Brooke's heart; shifting loyalties force contestants to wonder who they can really trust.

LITTLE BIRD (CTV) 10:00pm: The Little Bird family comes together to mourn death and celebrate life; Esther and Golda are changed by this journey, which has strengthened their bond; Esther has finally found what she's been looking for.

CRIME BEAT (Global) 10:00pm: An innocent victim, 28-year-old Mila Barberi is gunned down while picking up her boyfriend, Saverio Serrano from work.

RUPAUL'S DRAG RACE UK VS THE WORLD (Crave2) 10:05pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Nine drag queen legends, famous for having appeared in international versions of RuPaul's Drag Race', compete inRuPaul's Drag Race UK vs the World'.

EARTH MAMA (Crave) 10:35pm: With two children in foster care, Gia, a pregnant single mother pitted against the system, fights to reclaim her family. In her close-knit Bay Area community, she works to make a life for herself and her kids.

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[longislanddivorce1]

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[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

#ezra x reader #ezra/reader #ezra prospect #prospect fanfic #prospect fanfiction #pedro pascal #soft #soft ezra

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Enies Lobby

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

this is still one of my very favorite nami panels. i think she’s really great through all of water 7 and enies lobby in general, actually, even though she isn’t really one of the characters in focus for a lot of it- like zoro and sanji, she stays pretty steadfast and very badass even though everything that happens, and never gives up on robin for a moment despite being one of the ‘weaker’ members of the crew. and it’s always fun to see her playing with lightning.

one of my favorite jokes from the first half or so of enies lobby is the strawhats both being completely unsurprised that luffy charges in ahead of them as soon as they arrive AND being able to find him immediately by following the explosions. they know him so well. 

luffy’s never been scared of dying, going all the way back to when he told coby he was fine with dying for his dream back in chapter two or three. that conversation is what his exchange with blueno here reminds me of- blueno asks him how long he intends to keep fighting, and luffy says until he dies, like there’s nothing to it.

it’s always been a trait of his to face death unflinching with a grin, so long as it’s for the sake of something he cares about, be it his crew or his brother or his dream, and i just really like that about him.  

i’ll go into it in the dressrosa post too, but i think it’s really impressive just how long oda held off on giving luffy any sort of significant power-up. he gets his first big power boost in the whole series here, forty volumes in. i’ve always liked that oda is very conservative with power boosts like this, because it both keeps the series’ powerscaling in check and makes the times it does happen much weightier. this is a monumental moment, and it feels like it.

also, i love the way gear two is drawn pre-timeskip, especially with the steam. it looks very cool and atmospheric.

i really like how united the strawhat crew feels throughout enies lobby, after all the internal turmoil and discord of water seven. even though the matter of usopp leaving the crew is still unresolved, they’ll all together once more, on the same page, and fully united in the goal of saving robin, whatever consequences it might bring. 

the tree of knowledge has such a cool design- it looks massive, and even more than that, it looks old. you look at that tree and you know its been there for easily thousands of years. its seen entire eras of history, and it would be priceless even without the countless books stored inside it.

and then it burns.

i’m so endlessly sad about the tragedy that is robin’s relationship with her mother. they never even got to see each other until their world was ending, and even then only for a couple minutes.

olvia is a very interesting character, because she’s someone who chose her dream over the people she loved. that’s not an inherently good or bad choice, but it is a choice she made, and it’s what led to the ending she and robin had to have. i’ve wondered a lot what might have happened if she chose the other way, if she never left or if she came back sooner or if she chose to flee the buster call with robin, and how different (and almost certainly better) robin’s life would have been if she had.

in a way, olvia reminds me a lot of kouzuki toki. they both die in order to fling a light of knowledge and hope into the future, and they both send their children away and choose to stay behind to choke on ash for the sake of a better tomorrow. 

i didn’t really notice until putting these panels together, but a lot of things burn in enies lobby. ohara burns, and the pluton plans and the world government flag, and enies lobby itself, and at the end, the going merry burns, too. if you extend it back to water seven, there’s the galley-la headquarters, too. in an arc that deals so much with the preservation and destruction of history and knowledge, it’s a fitting motif. 

the world government flag burning is still to this day one of the most striking panels out of a series full of them, in my opinion. in one act, the strawhats proclaim their absolute defiance against the world government, and their willingness to make enemies of the greatest power in the world for the sake of their friend.

it’s also another one of those moments that’s interesting to think about in the context of luffy’s past. it was a ship flying that same flag that shot sabo down, and while luffy wasn’t there to see it, i don’t think he’s oblivious to that fact, especially given how he says just before this he understands robin’s enemies perfectly.

dadan told him and ace that there was nothing they could do against the whole world, and luffy went and did it anyways.

sometimes i just think about how scary it must have been for robin, someone who’s been weighed down by the shackles of her past with no escape in sight for so very long, to open herself up and let herself hope, for life and freedom and a dream that’s always been out of reach. 

franky has a lot of really great moments between this arc and water seven- his conversation with usopp as usopp is working on merry and his talk with robin on the sea train are two others. it’s almost impressive how quickly he becomes an immensely likable character once we start getting to know him, given how he’s first introduced as an absolute piece of shit.

his burning of the pluton plans is a favorite of mine, and i think it might be because, like so many people before and after him, he’s choosing here to stake all his hopes on the strawhats, on luffy’s ability to pull off the impossible and on robin’s goodness. when robin’s only ever been chased and hated and called a demon by the world, franky chooses to trust her and luffy with the legacy his dad died for, and neither of them let him down.

monster point looks SO FUCKING TERRIFYING in enies lobby, and i LOVE it. look at that. franky is seven and half feet tall, and in front of monster point he’s tiny. monster point is huge, and dead-eyed, and a force of absolute destruction. i do kind of wish we got to see chopper go completely feral like this more often. he deserves to be terrifying!

i love how much FAITH all the rest of the strawhats continue to have in usopp throughout enies lobby. he left the crew and they really would have a right to be angry at him if they chose to, but it doesn’t even seem to cross any of their minds. they’re just happy he’s okay, and they include him again without missing a beat, because he’s still their friend and they know down to their bones they can trust him, even after everything. 

i’ve always really loved zoro and kaku’s little moment of post-battle banter here- zoro relays paulie’s message about cp9 being fired, kaku says he’s out of a job, zoro tells him to try the zoo, and kaku cracks up.

it feels very real to me for whatever reason, and i think part of it ties back into how well one piece handles morality with its characters- zoro and kaku are genuinely pretty similar people who get along decently, it just happens that they wound up on opposite sides. there are series where you’d never see moments like this due to the lines between good and bad being so firmly drawn, and i love how one piece blurs those lines so much they may as well not exist a lot of the time.

this is the other sequence, along with luffy climbing the drum rockies barehanded, that always makes me physically cringe to look at. it looks so painful. robin is so nearly powerless here, but not quite- she can still buy time for her crew to catch up, even if it’s only seconds, even if she risks shattering her teeth or even her jaw in the process. she’s spent so long giving up and has only just started daring to hope- she’s not about to go gentle.

there aren’t many panels that give me catharsis like this one. there really aren’t.

oda’s villains are usually complicated and awful and often a little admirable, if only for how clever or how terrifyingly powerful they are, but every now and then he comes up with someone who’s just pathetic and cowardly and pointlessly cruel. spandam is like this, obviously, and so is orochi, and the celestial dragons, and i’d argue flampe from whole cake island as well. and there’s nothing like seeing characters like them- weak, cruel people so assured in their own power and rightness- get obliterated.

one of the things i really like about enies lobby is that nobody really gets sidelined- everybody gets multiple chances to shine. luffy, usopp, and obviously robin are the most in focus, obviously, but zoro, sanji, nami, chopper, and even franky all get a bunch of individual awesome moments. oda’s ability to handle his cast satisfyingly is consistently really impressive (if sometimes strained in huge ensemble arcs like dressrosa or wano) and it really shows here, i think.

i just really love the entire climax of enies lobby. much like the arc as a whole, it just feels triumphant, even though the situation is extremely dire. luffy unlocking gear three, robin’s cuffs getting unlocked, usopp shooting spandam and the marines all the way from the tower of justice- it’s all just good, a long chain of much-needed victories and catharses, and it feels very good to read.

i’ll always be impressed by just how much characterization oda manages to give merry, a boat. she’s only really a character in water seven and the end of enies lobby, only about two chapters of which she actually speaks in. and yet i don’t think you’d find a single one piece fan who disagrees that merry’s death is easily one of the most heartwrenching in the entire series.

i love the reactions of the strawhats to robin’s thanks. they’ve just gone through hell to save her, most of them are beat to shit and they all risked their lives, and yet they all just smile, or brush it off, because to them there’s nothing else they could have done. it’s all worth it, so long as they got her back, so long as she’s safe and happy.

merry’s funeral just hits me in the chest every single time i read it. it’s tragic, of course, but there’s also something almost lovely about it, something peaceful about her getting to go out on her own terms, carrying her crew to safety one last time, defying every rule of the universe to do it. just like a strawhat pirate.

oda’s ability to communicate emotion through expressions really comes through here, too. merry has the only lines in this scene, fitting for her death in the limelight, but the shots of every other crewmate’s face let us know at a glance just what they’re all feeling and just how strongly they’re feeling it.

you know, i’d forgotten we only learn the name of the new world after enies lobby. we only get proper exposition about the revolutionary army and the yonkou here, too, despite them being set up since loguetown and jaya (or alabasta, or even chapter one if you count from shanks’s introduction) respectively. oda’s ability to parse out exposition and explanation so we always have just the right amount of information is really impressive- we always have more questions, but we also always have the feeling that those questions have answers, and that sooner or later they’ll be revealed.

points at shanks. i just think he’s neat.

it’s my opinion that one of the great joys of one piece is seeing luffy and the crew rise up in the world, and seeing them gain more and more notoriety. i love nothing they do ever happens in a vacuum- everything has impacts, and there are always outside eyes watching, and often those impacts are things that they never could have predicted.

ace and blackbeard is still, i think, definitely one of the coolest looking fights in the whole series. it’s not all that often we get to see two people with extremely flashy and showy abilities go all-out against each other, and the resulting fireworks are still really something to behold, despite how badly it all ends. 

#the voyage so far #one piece #opmeta #long post #arc: enies lobby #arc: post enies lobby #not japanese

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

A Whole Castle

Words: 5,837 Warnings: Anxiety, food Characters: Logan, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Remy, Janus, Remus Universe: Whole Castle Genre: Family Fluff Additional Tags: Caring older siblings, Parks

You mentioned uncle Remy once and I’d love to see him meeting Patton for the first time. Does he bring lots of presents? I feel like that’s something he would do. And whose brother is he? Also! Is Emile in this au?

   “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Patton overnight, dad,” Virgil crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

   “It is longer than overnight, we won’t be back until next evening,” Logan said evenly as he did a final check through to make sure Roman didn’t forget anything in his bag.

   “I’m still able to handle him for 24 hours on my own,” Virgil objected grumpily. “What if Pat hates him? Uncle Remy’s kind of… intense sometimes,” Virgil flipped out his hand with annoyance.

   “We’re more comfortable leaving you with adult help if you need anything. And you know my brother loves to spoil you, I’m sure he and Patton will get along just fine. I already informed him about Patton’s need for space and clear consent with touching. Remy knows your triggers and the one we found for Patton. But I’m not worried about Patton’s with you around. You’re a wonderful brother,” Logan said kindly. Virgil turned a little pink and loosened up his arms.

   “Um, fine… I’ll miss you,” Virgil mumbled. Logan noticed Roman forgot his hairbrush.

   “We’ll miss both of you, too. Thank you for letting us do this,” Logan smiled, checking for anything else missing.

   “It’s not like I have to give you permission for a day trip,” Virgil said flippantly.

   “We don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. Your understanding was paramount in our decision for a short getaway. I do not want you to feel unloved or like a burden because we are taking a brief vacation without you and Patton,” Logan explained. Virgil nodded slowly. The thought had crossed his mind, but they had asked him just before therapy and Dr. Picani had helped him out. Virgil hoped Dr. Picani did the same with Pat because Patton wouldn’t have brought it up.

   “You probably just want to bone,” Virgil said glibly.

   “How dare you, Detective Diaz, I am your superior officer!” Logan quoted with less gusto than the original because he did not want to yell. Logan and Virgil laughed together about it for a minute. “Well, Roman insists it will be romantic, but it is just a bed-and-breakfast in the countryside. I’m sure I will enjoy the fresh air. The next vacation we take will include the two of you and do something much more interesting,” Logan said with a smile and held out his arms. Virgil nodded and stepped into his arms for a hug. Logan hugged him firmly and rubbed between his shoulders. “I will be a phone call away if you need me,” He added seriously.

   “A, uh…. Water park would be a cool day trip,” Virgil mumbled.

   “I will look into it and gather the necessary supplies,” Logan nodded quickly and headed into the bathroom to grab Roman’s brush.

   “Um, thanks. I guess I won’t heckle uncle Remy too much,” Virgil grinned cheekily.

   “Remy says you got along like a house on fire and you loved the axe throwing class,” Logan laughed as he came back out and packed the hairbrush.

   “Um, yeah, I didn’t think he’d actually take me to one, sorry,” Virgil mumbled apologetically.

   “It’s fine, Virgil. The class was for your age range and you have not tried to use that skill outside of the classroom. I perhaps over-reacted,” Logan sighed. “I am aware that I can be very protective over the safety of my loved ones and I need to let things go sometimes,” He added, pulling Virgil in for another hug. “I will miss you very much,” Logan said softly.

   “Give me my son,” Roman said, pulling Virgil out of Logan’s arms into a strong hug, swaying side to side. “I’ll miss you more,” Roman cooed emphatically.

   “He’s also my son, Roman,” Logan rolled his eyes.

   “I’m sure you hugged him plenty, it was my turn,” Roman refuted him petulantly and stuck out his tongue at Logan.

   “Papa!” Virgil groaned, but he hugged him back. “I’m sure you’ll both hug me again when we see you off,” Virgil chuckled.

   “Of course, we have a lack of hugs tomorrow to make up for,” Roman said brightly and released Virgil. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath after being freed from the bear hug.

   “It is healthy to get multiple hugs a day, Virgil,” Logan said with amusement and patted Virgil’s shoulder affectionately. That fact made Roman pout. “Patton will surely get his required hugs from Virgil in the time being, darling, he is doing fine and getting better with his fear of adults every day,” Logan reassured him.

   “He’s just so tiny and needs so much love!” Roman whined. “I changed my mind, let’s stay,” Roman said impulsively. Virgil and Logan laughed at him, and Roman pouted out his lower lip.

   “No, we made reservations and paid a deposit for this. You said you wanted this after the show was done to unwind,” Logan smirked and rolled his eyes at Roman.

   “I know, but I already miss my boys and we haven’t left yet,” Roman frowned and looked morosely at Logan.

   “Go on, guys,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Go, you know how dad gets when his itinerary is messed with,” Virgil said, pushing Roman. Roman huffed and grabbed his bag. Virgil crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue at Roman, who rolled his eyes back at him.

   “Yes, the maturity in this room has hit its peak, let us egress to the living room before someone proclaimed a ‘poopy face’ or something similar,” Logan said with bemusement and picked up his bag. He took Roman’s hand with the other and they left the bedroom, followed close behind by Virgil.

   “Patton darling, we’re headed out,” Roman said softly, crouching down in the living room. Patton was sitting on the couch with a book and looked up. Logan smiled as Patton put the book down and Virgil walked over to take his hand. Virgil and Patton walked over and Roman opened his arms. Patton hesitated for a moment but he let go of Virgil’s hand and hugged Roman.

   “Not forever?” Patton asked carefully.

   “Just until tomorrow night, remember? I promise we’ll be back,” Roman reassured him and pulled Patton close, swaying slightly as he hugged him. Logan squatted down as well, and Patton came over to give him a hug. Logan hugged him back gently, careful with him and carded his fingers through his curls.

   “You’ll be safe with Uncle Remy. Anything you can ask us for you can ask him. Virgil will help out. And you can call us anytime, okay? We love you,” Logan reminded him genially, pulling back and smiling at Patton. Patton nodded and back up to Virgil and gripped on to Virgil’s hoodie. Virgil bent down to pick him up and hold him, and Patton stepped up willingly. Roman and Logan walked outside, followed closely behind by Virgil with Patton in tow.

   “We’ll miss you both, but we hope you have fun with Remy! He said he had plans, which I assume means something Logan might get mad at him for, so you can look forward to that,” Roman winked.

   “I am choosing to trust him for once,” Logan said sourly as he opened the trunk to put away the suitcases.

   “Yeah, I’m totally believing that, dad,” Virgil laughed and shifted Patton in his arms. Patton looked with concern to the car. “They’ll be back, they promised,” Virgil soothed him.

   “’Kay,” Patton exhaled, still sounding concerned.

   “Oh, my darling, we promise,” Roman said and rushed over after shoving off his suitcase to Logan. “It’s just a short break to celebrate and we’ll be back before you know it,” Roman leaned in and Patton nodded, so Roman planted a kiss in his hair and hugged both Patton and Virgil together.

   “Dad, papa’s gonna wuss out again,” Virgil called when Roman pulled back with a sad and sappy look on his face again.

   “Dearest, it will be fine. We’ll see them again soon and you were looking forward to utilizing the free champagne at the bed-and-breakfast,” Logan said tantalizingly. Roman let go and nodded in excitement.

   “Don’t get faced on mimosas, now,” Virgil grinned mischievously and Roman scoffed haughtily but smiled back at him after a moment of indignation nonetheless. Logan closed the trunk and came over to Virgil and Patton. Patton held out his arm and Logan came in to hug the pair of them.

   “I’ll monitor his victorious drinking, though I doubt you are seriously concerned. I have to assume free champagne does not mean a quality product. I hope you enjoy spending time with Remy. I’m sure the reason he was delayed was he wanted to buy more presents. He should be here shortly, but if you do not see him in 30 minutes, please feel free to call him and insult him a few times. He seems to run on spite,” Logan chuckled.

   “Who doesn’t?” Virgil smiled. “Um, have fun. Don’t die,” Virgil said quietly.

   “We will be fine, my loves,” Roman said soothingly. “Ta-ta for now, but we will be back before you know it! I love you both,” Roman announced brightly, kissing Virgil’s hair one more time before climbing into the driver’s seat.

   “I also regard you fondly,” Logan smirked. “I jest, I love you. Please remember that calling at any time is okay, even if you just want to ask us a question,” Logan reminded Virgil and also planted a kiss on his forehead, turning around to the car with a wave.

   Virgil watched the car pull out of the driveway and they shared another round of waving before the car drove down the street. Virgil sighed and turned around to head inside.

   “Is it dumb that I miss them already?” Virgil asked meekly.

   “Nah,” Patton shook his head and hugged Virgil’s chest. “You wanna colour with me?” He asked. “Then you don’t hafta be sad,” Patton nodded sagely and Virgil smiled, lowering Patton down the floor when they returned to the living room.

   “Sure, pipsqueak,” Virgil nodded. “Go get the stuff, would you?” Virgil asked and Patton nodded, bounding off into his room. Virgil texted Remy every cussword he could think of. Patton came back out with a few colouring books and a big bucket of markers. Patton dumped them all on the coffee table and Virgil sat down on the floor next to Patton, flipping through the colouring books.

   “I wanna colour a puppy,” Patton said resolutely, and Virgil pulled out a book with animal line art and handed it to Patton. Virgil picked one with mandalas and flipped it open to a random one in the center.

   Patton took a while to consider his options before settling on a Dalmatian and started filing in the spots with a rainbow of colours while Virgil worked on his mandala. Patton wasn’t the best at staying within the lines, but he gave his best effort, anyway. Virgil looked up at the door and sighed. Patton tapped his leg and Virgil looked over to him curiously, pausing his colouring efforts. Patton marked the back of Virgil’s hand with a lavender marker with a little giggle, and Virgil laughed. It unsettled Virgil how used to this Patton still was, but he considered that maybe it was just his anxiety being rude.

   A key clicked in the door and both Patton and Virgil’s eyes shot up to the sound. Patton moving hastily to hide behind Virgil on the floor. Virgil took a deep breath and sat tall so Patton could know Virgil was here to protect him.

   “Hey babes, sorry I’m late! It’s worth it, though, because your dad’s coffee maker is garbage,” Remy announced, coming in with hands full of bags.

   “Hey uncle Remy,” Virgil waved, feeling concerned about the trepidation from the tiny shaking Patton behind him. “Why don’t you come around and I’ll hold you,” Virgil whispered over his shoulder.

   “So where’s the pipsqueak they rant about?” Remy asked, kicking the door shut and putting down the bags in the living room. Patton slowly came around and pressed against Virgil right away, hiding under his hoodie. “Ah, the famous Patton. Don’t worry, I’ll give you your space, kid,” Remy smiled. “I got you gifts, though,” Remy added in a sing-song voice. “Well. I got everyone gifts. Logan’s gift is me replacing that POS in the kitchen because I’m not drinking out of it. But you guy’s will like it, too, I’ll show you later how to make hot cocoa with it,” Remy winked before pushing up his sunglasses and pushing a light blue bag towards them and backing off, heading over to lock the front door. He came back and kept his space, leaning on one foot, and watching patiently.

   “That’s probably your gift, Patton. Remy likes to make me tear my gifts open. This is too pretty for that,” Virgil said, pulling the bag closer to Patton. Patton slowly unlatched from Virgil to peer curiously in the bag.

   “This is all stuff dad will kill you over, isn’t it?” Virgil asked with bemusement as he tilted the bag for Patton to remove the tissue paper.

   “Mostly, so you better use it all fast before he can make me return it,” Remy laughed and separated out a package from the rest of the pile that was wrapped multiple times. Patton squealed in delight when he pulled out a big soft blue dog doll and squeezed it in delight.

   “Her name is Coco and I love her!” Patton declared, swaying side to side and holding the plush tight. It was massive compared to Patton.

   “There’s also a tablet in here, dude,” Virgil peered into the bag and pulled out the box.

   “That one’s open because I already put books and programs on it. Very educational, Logan won’t want to return that one,” Remy smirked impishly. Virgil started tearing apart the package’s layers for wrapping paper with amusement.

   “You know it’s neither of our birthdays, right?” Virgil drawled playfully.

   “I don’t want kids, but I want to spoil them. Let me make my dreams come true, Virgil,” Remy said teasingly. “I also brought the traditional hoodie. This time’s theme is cosmos. It might be a little big on him, though…” Remy hummed in displeasure. “He’s really small, huh,” He commented, eyeballing the tiny Patton playing with the blue dog plush.

   “Yeah,” Virgil agreed, ripping through layers. “How many are there?” Virgil shot in frustration after another 3 fruitless layers.

   “Work for it, babe,” Remy blew a kiss before leaning down and digging through one of the bags. “Hey Pat, you like matching Virge, right,” Remy asked, smiling at their matching hair and Patton froze, staring at Remy for a moment with worry. “Here you go,” Remy threw a small electric-blue star field hoodie at Patton. Patton caught it, dropping Coco and looking confused. Remy threw a purple cosmic hoodie right in Virgil’s face, and he sputtered and resisted the urge to flip Remy off. Patton bounced and slid the hoodie on.

   “Put it on, put it on,” Patton grabbed at Virgil’s current hoodie and shook him.

   “Hold on,” Virgil grumbled and just bit and the wrapping paper, tearing off layer by layer with his teeth. He finally made it to the center and cackled in delight. “I’m going to shoot the heck out of Janus!” He cheered and pulled out two packages of foam-ball guns and spare ammo. “Thanks, dude!” Virgil beamed at him.

   “Put it on!” Patton pleaded again, and Virgil chuckled while he shook his head in amusement. He pulled off his old hoodie to slide on the new one. Patton ran at and tackled Virgil over as soon as he finished pulling it down. Virgil laughed as he skid slightly on the living room floor and grabbed Patton.

   “Oh, a sneak attack, huh?” Virgil held Patton in his lap and gave him a gentle noogie before tickling him in the armpit. Patton shrieked with laughter as Virgil retaliated with a tickle attack. “You never see the sneaky little worm coming!” Virgil cackled. Patton laughed so hard he became red in the face, so Virgil stopped tickling and just held him on his lap while he caught his breath. “You look great in that, little dude,” Virgil pulled him in for a hug and Patton jumped off and grabbed the big blue doll off the floor.

   “Coco will watch out for sneak attacks in the future,” Patton said resolutely, staring at Virgil. Virgil took the dangling paw and shook it.

   “I look forward to sneaking past you, Coco,” Virgil said smarmily and Patton smacked Virgil with Coco in the head over and over. “No!” Virgil called out and fell over dramatically. “I’ve been defeated!” He declared between the puppy plush pummelings.

   “That’s right!” Patton cheered victoriously.

   “Holy frickin’ hell y’all are so cute I’m going to get cavities,” Remy laughed as he leaned against the wall watching them.

   “Shh! That’s a bad word!” Patton said, looking worried.

   “It’s okay when adults say it as long as they don’t use it to insult people,” Virgil chuckled and lifted himself off the floor, starting to pick up all the wrapping garbage and wadded it up. “Are you finished colouring your dog?” Virgil asked and Patton hurriedly returned to the coffee table and returned to colouring with Coco right behind him as a pillow.

   “Thanks again, dude,” Virgil smiled up to Remy as he gathered the last of the paper.

   “I brought my drone so you can take photos at the park later, too. You had fun last time,” Remy offered and Virgil immediately lit up.

   “Yes! Are we going to the park with the custard? Patty loves it,” Virgil asked excitedly.

   “No, this one’s a little farther out but there’s a hipster ice cream place on the way that should be good,” Remy smiled.

   “Patton, we get ice cream,” Virgil tilted to the side as he tempted Patton and Patton grinned widely.

   “It’s done!” Patton announced. He had filled in the rest of the dog with blue and it had rainbow spots. Patton lifted up the book and showed it off. “Wha’dya think?”

   “Very nice, he looks like a good friend. I like the silver collar, it’s a nice touch, it still pops against the rainbow,” Virgil nodded and Patton beamed proudly.

   “The colouring job is fantastic, kid,” Remy gave a thumbs up and Patton happily started picking up his markers. “What do you say we put those hoodies to the test and head out? We’ll get dinner and hit up that park,” Remy asked and Patton looked concerned. Virgil walked over to Remy.

   “Oh, um, Pat won’t play at a park without Remus. He’ll just… sit there,” Virgil whispered. “The most he’ll do is let me push him on a swing,” He added.

   “This is Pat’s friend? Call up his parents and give me the phone,” Remy said, holding out his hand and flipping his fingers. Virgil quickly navigated to the contact for Remus’s parents and passed the phone over.

   “Hello! Thank you. Yes, I’m aware it’s close to dinnertime. Yes, I am taking Patton to a healthy dinner and an enrichment experience, you see, I thought I would extend the offer to Remus. Yes, I’m Logan’s brother, I am the acting guardian while Logan is out of town. Yes, I am trained in CPR. How did you know? Of course, I will make sure he eats his greens, the restaurant is farm to table,” Remy said in his most sycophantic voice. “Yes, you can reach me if you need to. We’ll be back after sunset. Yes, send Virgil the address and I’ll come to collect Remus. It’s chilly out, make sure he is dressed warmly, I wouldn’t want him to catch a cold,” His voice was sickly sweet. He hung up proudly and smirked at Virgil as he handed back his cell.

   “What the hell was that?” Virgil asked.

   “Rich people are suckers to salesmen. They never stood a chance after I clocked her,” Remy said smugly. “You want to bring that Janus kid?” Remy asked. “It only seems fair,” He added.

   “But, um, that’s even more money for dinner,” Virgil said meekly.

   “It’s just dinner, babe,” Remy rolled his eyes.

   “At one of those fancy places?” Virgil asked incredulously.

   “Oh, eff that, we’re getting chicken strips,” Remy huffed.

   “Chicken strips?” Patton perked up.

   “Ah, one of Mrs. Bunnyface’s favourites. Why don’t you go grab her, Pat? She can sit with us at the park, we’ll watch her,” Virgil offered and Patton nodded and ran into his room with Coco. “If he gets uncomfortable, he’s more likely to say something is wrong with her around. Otherwise, he just clams up,” Virgil whispered.

   “Aren’t you too young to be a dad?” Remy laughed and messed with Virgil’s hair.

   “He would only talk to me for a bit!” Virgil said defensively. “He’s doing better but he’s still scared of having wants for himself. His birth parents aren’t that great,” Virgil said bitterly.

   “He’s lucky he’s got a brother like you,” Remy pulled Virgil in for a side hug.

   “We’re… we’re not brothers,” Virgil said hourly.

   “Oh, shut up with that. You ask them to adopt him, they’ll do it in a heartbeat, I bet they’re already thinking about how to ask you. Come on, call Janus. I want you to be able to get photos of the waterfall at sunset,” Remy said and pat Virgil’s back. Virgil looked up to him in amazement.

   “What? Holy sh— uh, shiitake mushrooms,” Virgil said as Patton came back out with Mrs. Bunnyface in tow. “You have your phone?” Patton pulled his phone with the big chunky case and nodded. He put it back in his pocket and walked up to hold Virgil’s hand. “Cool,” Virgil said, then texted Janus.

   “Kid, texts are too slow,” Remy groaned and reached for Virgil’s phone. Virgil pulled it back and stuck out his tongue and showed the screen of Janus’s positive response. “Fine, whatever, let’s go,” Remy rolled his eyes and turned to head out the door. He let the boys (and Mrs. Bunnyface) exit and locked up behind them. “Who’s closer? Remus or Janus?”

   “Janus is just the neighborhood across the street. Remus lives in the heights,” Virgil supplied, helping Patton in the car, but he paused and pulled Patton back out. “Um, he needs to be on a booster,” Virgil looked concerned when he didn’t see one in the backseat.

   “Dang, that is a rich kid. Be right back, I’m sure Logan thought ahead and put it somewhere for me,” Remy said and headed back inside. Patton nervously shuffled his feet and felt Mrs. Bunnyface’s ears.

   “He’s good, Pat. You know Remus, Janus, and I would let nothing happen to you and he’s taking us all out voluntarily to do something we like, right?” Virgil squeezed Patton’s hand reassuringly.

   “I jus’ don’ wanna mess up,” Patton admitted and looked down sadly.

   “You won’t, little guy, but ask me any time and I’ll make sure, okay?” Virgil pulled his face back up to look him in the eye with his finger.

   “Thanks, Virge,” Patton smiled weakly. “Will you sit with me?” He asked hopefully.

   “Of course. Janus probably wants the front seat, anyway,” Virgil smiled. “He likes his space,” Virgil shrugged.

   “Not from you,” Patton blinked.

   “Everybody has exceptions. I’m your exception most of the time, right?” Virgil grinned and booped Patton in the nose, causing Patton to titter and twitch his nose.

   “Yeah,” Patton said softly and gripped the new star spattered hoodie hanging off Virgil. It was big on Patton, but with the sleeves bunched up it fit alright, but Patton wouldn’t take it off for anything.

   “Back! It was in the garage with a note. He mentioned Remus has his own? That’s so weird,” Remy ran his hand through his hair. “You know how to use this thing, right, V? I’m not reading the massive manual Lo left if I can help it,” Remy passed it off to Virgil and Virgil nodded, taking it to set up.

   “They allow Remus to come out often if he doesn’t have after-school stuff, but his parents are always too busy or not home so they just gave him one to take out with him. His parents call playing with Patty ‘networking’, they’re so weird. He’s a kid, he likes dirt and worms and swinging on stuff, you know? He doesn’t care about ‘networking’,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Alright, Pat, come on up,” Virgil moved out of the way to let Patton in and Virgil buckled him up and made sure everything was in place before coming around to sit on the other side.

   “Dang, girl, leave some tea to spill for the rest of us,” Remy chuckled. “I’m sure he’ll be glad for chicken fingers and dirty slides, then,” Remy said as he buckled up and began to back out of the driveway.

   “Hey, Patty, why don’t you tell Remy about Mrs. Bunnyface’s favourite thing to do at the park?” Virgil suggested, pulling out his phone and texting Janus that they were on the way.

   “Mrs. Bunnyface likes t’watch me swing and slide and climb! She likes to watch Remus use th’ monkey bars, too!” Patton said cheerily. “Mrs. Bunnyface doesn’t like to get dirty, so Virgil sits with her t’watch. There’s this one park Virge takes me to on his bike with th’ thing Remus calls ‘the pod’ I always forget the name of that has these cool drums and things and she plays those with us! Even Virgil and Janus play them! It’s so fun!” Patton buoyantly babbled about what he did at parks. “Also Virge gets us ice cream there! Mrs. Bunnyface loves vanilla with strawberries and chocolate syrup. Remus likes gummy bears because he lost a tooth in one once and he wants to do it again,” Patton kicked his feet gaily.

   “That kid is so metal,” Virgil laughed. “Has Mrs. Bunnyface ever had dog food? I lost a tooth in that,” He asked.

   “Ew! Virge, she’s a bunny, not a puppy!” Patton held his doll tight.

   “No, kid, it’s cereal and chocolate and stuff. We’ll make it together sometime so she can try it,” Remy laughed.

   “Yeah, I think Remus would want to eat it on name alone. I think Mrs. Bunnyface would like it, Patty,” Virgil winked and Patton giggled. “Oh, turn here and it’s the one on the right. He’s already outside waiting,” Virgil leaned forward to point.

   “Th’ name is yucky, though,” Patton giggled.

   “Dog food being a gross name is part of the fun,” Virgil smirked. The car door opened and Janus climbed into the front seat and smiled apprehensively to Remy. “Janus! We get to fly a drone!” Virgil said eagerly. Janus’s interest was piqued right away, turning to Virgil.

   “We do?” He asked, clicking in the seatbelt and gripping it enthusiastically. He looked back to Remy sheepishly. “My parents gave me five bucks for dinner,” He offered weakly. “I know it’s not enough, but-”

   “Keep it, bonus allowance, order what you want,” Remy waved Janus off right away. Janus smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’m headed towards the heights, but I might need a GPS for that labyrinth of a neighborhood,” Remy said.

   “That’s chill,” Virgil loaded up the address and passed his phone up to Janus. “I can’t wait to take the camera up close to the waterfall,” Virgil balled his fists in excitement.

—

   “Alright, I’m trusting you two with this. I’m staying with the chaos gremlins at the playground. Keep your phone on you, come back right away if I call, and don’t fly the thing into the waterfall, okay?” Remy said, holding up a finger and passing off the controller. Virgil and Janus vibrated with excitement and nodded, waiting for Remy’s say. Remy rolled his eyes affectionately and nodded, and they both took off in the waterfall's direction.

   “You’ll keep her safe, right?” Patton asked with concern, passing up his doll.

   “Everything in my power, kid. You keep that glow necklace on. Go on, Remus is already halfway up the web,” Remy pointed and Patton looked between his doll and the web a few times before bolting and jumping up on the net.

   Remy sat back on the bench with the rabbit doll on his lap. He pulled out his phone and a pair of headphones and put them on low so he could listen to his music while he kept an eye on Patton and Remus. Patton and Remus were on the top of the net, trying to push each other over. Remy probably should have stopped them, but they were being pretty gentle and Remus caught Patton when he did actually lose balance. The height wasn’t a particularly dangerous one to play fight at, but if Logan knew Remy let that slide he’d get yelled at.

   Patton chased Remus across the pebbles laughing, Remus yelling something about pirates and treasure and Patton paying rapt attention. They dug in the pebbles under the slide for a bit but got distracted by a group game of ‘Lava Monster’ or something where the ground was lava and the kid on the ground had to tag someone without using the playground floor. Climbing was fair game, and Remus used that to his advantage. He was very spry. Remy thought he’d be more bored keeping an eye on them, but they were so high energy and excited it was a little infectious.

   The Lava monsters won, and they switched to regular tag, but Patton didn’t want to play that one, so he and Remus went to a boat-type thing and pretended to be sea explorers instead. Patton steered the torrential sea while Remus fought off a squid, maybe. They were mostly yelling nonsense to Remy’s ears. They beat the sea monster and after that had a deserted island vacation, made rock angels, and eventually headed back over to the bench where Remy sat with tired smiles. The sun set just enough that the soft glow of the necklaces was visible in the lower light, so Virgil was likely getting some primo photos.

   “Hey, how about we get water bottles from the car and go watch Virgil and Janus?” Remy offered.

   “Sure! I’m tired, though, carry me?” Remus asked guilelessly.

   “Dust yourself off, kid,” Remy laughed. Remus shook off like a dog and pat himself down as well as he could and held up his arms. Remy hefted him up on one side and looked to Patton for a moment. “I can carry you too, Pat, if you want. You’ll have to hold Mrs. Bunnyface, though,” Remy said, passing her down with his free arm. Patton took her and held her tight for a moment before nodding and slowly stepping over. Remy carefully squatted down and picked up Patton on his other side and headed back towards the car. Patton seemed nervous, but Remus rested tiredly against Remy’s shoulder.

   He put down Remus at the car to grab the lunch box full of cold water bottles and Remus was the bearer of the lunch box as he carried the pair over to the area with the small cliff and waterfall. It wasn’t hard to pick out Virgil and Janus with the glow-in-dark stars on the hoodie and glow stick jewelry. They were near the fenced-off water bank, flying the drone stiffly. Janus looked at his phone and Virgil stared at the drone while he flew it attentively. He carefully lowered down for the boys to hop off and Remus drowsily flopped back in the grass, holding up the box for Remy to take and unzipped. He passed down a water bottle for Remus and Patton, who sat on the grass next to them. They drank thirstily and fell back with giggles.

   “When you have a second we’ve got water,” Remy called out to the two. Virgil jumped, being shaken from his concentration, but held up his thumb. Janus came over for the bottles, though, keeping his eye on his phone for the display.

   “Thanks,” Janus stated distractedly and walked back over to Virgil where they continued to take photos. Remy settled down on the grass and watched them fly around. Janus pointed out areas that looked interesting, and Virgil was taking photos from different angles. He passed off the controls to Janus and drank some water while they got the last few ones they could. It looked kind of like Remus and Patton were passing out in the grass.

   “Wrap it up, guys!” Remy called out and Patton jumped and blinked a few times. They recalled the drone quickly after and Janus carried them over.

   “Thank you so much, uncle Remy!” Virgil said gleefully, placing the empty bottles in the lunch box. “I can’t wait to get those photos. You want me to carry you back, Patty?” Virgil asked and leaned down near Patton. Patton nodded and yawned a little and held up his arms. Virgil reached down and grabbed him, holding him close to his chest. Patton balled his fists in the hoodie and closed his eyes.

   “You want another ride, tiny terror?” Remy asked and Remus sat up sluggishly and rubbed his eyes.

   “Woah,” Remus looked around in confusion. “Yeah,” He nodded and held out his arms. Remy knelt down to carry Remus. Remus basically melted against him like a jellyfish.

   “Will you carry the drone, Janus?” Remy asked and Janus looked surprised for a moment.

   “You don’t think I’ll break it?” Janus asked in disbelief.

   “You’ve been playing with that thing for like two hours, you’re clearly capable. Give yourself some credit when others won’t, kid, you’ll go much farther,” Remy said reassuringly and winked.

   Remus and Patton were nearly out by the time they made it back to the car, barely noticing all the animated conversation going on between Virgil and Janus between the front and back seats of his sedan. Remy settled in for the long drive back, humming along with the quiet radio. Patton and Remus were passed out with contented looks in the rear-view and Virgil and Janus were teasing each other boisterously, Janus using his hand like a puppet so he could sit back in the seat and still ‘face’ Virgil in the back. Virgil made a hand puppet as well, playfully mocking each other.

   Being a dad wasn’t Remy’s ‘thing’, but he sure as hell loved his nephews. Maybe sitting at a park for two hours isn’t how he wanted to spend every day, but for them? He would do it again in a heartbeat. Logan and Roman were doing something right. If the weather held, he brought concert earplugs to take them to a carnival. If it didn’t, movie theatre and board games. Either way, he was making dog food, just because. Mixing it up was the best way to live life. Logan would be mad about all the sugar, but what were uncles for?

_ _

Taglist: @elizabutgayer @radioactivehelena @ollyollyoxinfree

The Taglist Repository Taglist: (ask to be removed)

freakin’ everything: @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @ananonsplace @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

Human AU:  @somehow-i-got-an-account  @starlight-era  @just-your-typical-trans-guy @potatsanderssides @idont-freaking-know

Logince:  @idontcareaboutcanon @silverobsidion-speaks  @a-fandom-trashdump  @averykedavra @k1ngtok1 @potatsanderssides

Moxiety (platonic):  @kieraelieson  @star-crossed-shipper

Adoption:  @enby-phoenix @idont-freaking-know

Foster:  @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll @nonasficcollection @idont-freaking-know

Found Family:  @supernovainthenightsky

#tsss #sanders sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #ayri writes #whole castle #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remus #ts roman #ts janus #kid!patton #teen!virgil #dad!roman #dad!logan #kid!remus #teen!janus #fluff #found family #familial moxiety #romantic logince #family fluff #park #food

[sacredcynic]

Cast Adrift

   After every election, and before the next one, there is a question that is asked by every polling organization.  They ask, “is the country on the right path?”  Inevitably, the answer is that the country is on the wrong track - regardless of who the president is.  This is used as evidence that the current office-holder is in trouble politically.  The problem with this question is it assumes that right track vs. wrong track is a political consideration.  Many people realize that the issues that strengthen or weaken culture are deeper than who gets elected. 

    There is the sense that we are adrift culturally.  When I was around 8 or 9 years old my dad kept a boat on the Ohio River.  We would spend a few days each summer boating on the river near the small town of Rising Sun, IN.  The river looked very smooth, but that hid the larger reality of a very strong current in the river.  It seemed we would spend most of the day boating against the current, only to turn around and return to our starting point in minutes.  Without a purposeful route and strong engine, the river would take you where it wanted.  Our culture is just as strong.  It seems the moorings are loose and we are being swept away with the ever-changing currents of culture.  Some celebrate the movement while the wise among us are able to see it for what it is - drift.  

     In a time like this it is easy to condemn the drift, or spend time merely pointing out the problems.  Instead, it might be better to point out some of the moorings that have been abandoned.  Our culture was built on certain pillars and once abandoned, will not be adequately replaced.  We live and thrive in a culture that was constructed on these shared assumptions.  We never acknowledge, let alone question these pillars.  Yet once these have been cancelled, we collectively sense the drift.  Drift never leads to a great place.  Instead, it leads to an isolated sandbar or smashed against the rocks.  We lose these foundations at considerable risk to all of us.  

  Here are 3 pillars that have been abandoned.  

1. We no longer live in an ordered world that sprang from the mind of the Creator.  In its place is the random result of a cosmic accident.  We are not children of God who reflect our Creator, but the generational offspring of an unguided, haphazard evolutionary process where only the fittest survive.  The origins of the entire scientific world was the idea that we live in the purposeful creation of a logical God.  As a result, we can learn about the origins and design of a universe that was created and ordered.  We have replaced a world where the least of these are paramount, to a world where the fittest are celebrated.  This has not been an improvement. 

2. For generations we understood the world that we inhabit.  It is a beautiful world, but it is also a fallen world.  We realized that it was created good, but that other forces have also been at work.  Therefore, we realized that natural does not necessarily equate too good.  Tornadoes are natural, but not good.  Droughts are natural, but have deadly consequences.  The natural world is somehow deeply impacted by evil.  This is an important point.  There are a host of things that are natural about me, but that does not mean it is good.  I might have a natural, explosive temper, or a harsh, judgmental attitude.  The temptation is to claim that because these inclinations are inborn these must be good.  We know better, or at least we used to.  We used to know that we are corrupted, and prone to selfishness, greed and a host of other traits.  I should not trust my own natural instincts.  We should also not trust those same instincts unleashed collectively.  

3. Since God has been banished from a foundational role in the creation of the universe, He is also absent from a personal interest in me.  Since God no longer has a claim or concern about me, there is no need for us to have any concern about what God might expect from us.  In its place is the quest to gain or amass as much stuff as possible.  Life equals the sum total of our achievements and experiences.  The other poor substitute we see today is the quest to authentically live out what is naturally within me.  Worst advice has never been offered.  We used to know that in order to thrive in life there were certain portions of ourselves that had to be overcome.  We have lost that silly notion.  In its place we are eager to unleash every aspect of our corrupted nature on the larger world in the name of authenticity.  The results of this are not, nor will it ever be good.  

   Maybe it is time to stop drifting.  We have an example, and that example ended with a cross - at least the powers at be thought it did.  Maybe we can purposefully steer that way again.  

[radicalposture]

Hey, so were you diagnosed with autism/adhd as an adult? If you don't mind me asking, was that difficult to achieve? I'm 25, and I've often thought I might have adhd, but I've held off on looking into it because I hear it's extremely difficult and expensive to get it tested and diagnosed as an adult.

yes I only got diagnosed last october, I was 25 then too! it was kind of a weird journey for me, all of my siblings and my dad got diagnosed with autism or adhd one after the other and I was still saying “but I can’t really be autistic/adhd” right up until I actually got diagnosed lol. but since then my whole life suddenly makes sense for the first time and I really think things are gonna be ok! this applies to autism/adhd/other neurodiverse stuff but autism and adhd is what I know, but I hope it applies broadly as well

so unfortunately yes, it can be pretty expensive to get through the whole process. depends on where you live of course, I live in Ireland so even though we do have public healthcare I would probably have been on a waiting list for upwards of two years to see a terrible psychologist who didn’t know anything about adhd/autism so I went to a private psychologist. I already knew her pretty well bc my siblings had been to her and I knew she knew what she was talking about and I felt comfortable with her. seeing her cost me around €900 which is definitely a lot, different psychologists have different rates but the price can go up depending on what tests u get done. the more tests you do the more expensive it will be as a general rule (at the same time I saw a different psychologist who had a lower flat rate so idk what the “rules” are about this tbh) I got a standard assessment as well as autism and adhd tests which is why it was so expensive. it used up pretty much all my savings lmao but after getting a diagnosis I was able to apply for disability allowance (which was a hellish process) and I got rejected and had to appeal the decision but I got it in the end, which is fortunate bc I quit my job lol.

recently I wanted to look into medication so I had to go to a psychiatrist because you can’t get a prescription for stimulant medication from a gp in most countries I think? BUT he’d only see me if I got rediagnosed by his psychologist, so that was another €300 for each of them. I did get prescribed ritalin in the end but I’ll have to get the prescription refilled a few times a year bc it’s a restricted medication, which will mean paying €100 ish for each time I do. fortunately I don’t actually have to pay for the medication itself bc I have a medical card.

so yes, it can be expensive! all told it’s cost me almost €2000 to get it all sorted and will keep costing me maybe €300 a year from now on, so it’s definitely something you have to budget for. especially depending on where you live, I imagine things are v different from country to country. also I’m very fortunate bc I still live with my family so I’m free of some financial pressure and I’d been saving for it for a while but I know how hard it is to countenance paying out that kind of money, and wondering whether it’s worth it.

as to whether it’s difficult to achieve I think you’ve got to break it down because official diagnosis is only part of it. so if you think you do have ADHD I’d look at it from a couple of different angles:

1. self acceptance/understanding is absolutely the most important thing. I know people who’ve never been to a psych who know they’re autistic/adhd and really flourish, I also know people who have official diagnoses but who won’t accept it themselves and reject help/support and they’re making things so hard for themselves. so the most important thing is to educate yourself about what adhd means and, more importantly, what it means for you. everyone’s brain is different and understanding exactly how your brain works and why you think/behave the way you do is the most important thing you can do. there are a lot of resources out there, especially online, - I’ll put a link to a google drive of books and things I have at the bottom - and it can be good to connect with others online as well. having people who Get It and can help you is really paramount, I know often our irl families/friends can sometimes let us down so sometimes the only support you can get is from following ppl on twitter or something. the adhd subreddit is weirdly helpful and supportive, it’s great to be able to throw out a question like “I think like this am I insane y/n” and have other people go “nah ur fine” it’s very validating (also validation/external perspectives is super important for adhd bc we can be extremely bad at self assessment). so yes, the most important thing is firstly to know thyself by 1) educating yourself and 2) listening/connecting with others like u.

2. is it important to have an “official” diagnosis? no and yes. obviously you don’t need a diagnosis from a doctor to know what you are, and 70% of the things needed to help you flourish are going to come from your own research and the support systems you make. and if you cant afford or access a psychologist or psychiatrist it doesn’t make it any less real or bar you from educating yourself/accessing resources etc. HOWEVER. if you can get a good diagnosis then I really would go for it, bc: 1) it opens a LOT of doors to official resources, whether that’s access to welfare, supports and accommodations at school or college, medication, etc etc. a lot of the time the supports we need are behind this diagnostic paywall, which sucks but it is what it is :/ so that’s one consideration. 2) it can be really validating and help set your mind at ease about whether you “really” have adhd or if you’re “faking”. like I said I didn’t believe that I was “allowed” to be autistic before I got diagnosed. I also didn’t consider that I might have adhd, I went in thinking I’d just get the autism diagnosis so it wasn’t something I would have found out on my own probably. so it can be good to get an outside opinion, especially as, like I said, we can be really bad at self assessment. 3) it feels good to know you have a piece of paper to throw at rude family members/teachers/doctors who don’t believe it’s real 4) if you can find a good psychiatrist/psychologist it can be such a good thing to have that support and to get genuinely good advice from a professional you trust. doesn’t always happen but if u can find one it’s a godsend

wow this got long. to summarise, if you think you have adhd or anything else I would

research and educate yourself. for adhd probably the best thing to do is read driven to distraction and delivered from distraction, written by two psychiatrists who are adhd themselves. they’re both in this google drive along with loads of other resources I’ve collected, there’s also books about autism as well. as a disclaimer not everything/everyone here has my 100% endorsement some of it is there for academic/historical interest or only parts are helpful but by and large it’s useful. also watch this video and feel Seen

look for a good psychologist/psychiatrist if you’re going for a diagnosis. see if there’s an adhd organisation in your country/area and if they can recommend anyone. a lot of the time you’re better going to a child/educational psychologist who’ll see adult clients as they tend to Get It more. do look for someone who is clear about having experience in adult adhd bc unfortunately even qualified psychologists get a LOT wrong so make sure you get someone who knows what they’re doing before you give them your money

yes it can be really expensive. but if you’re needing to access things like medication or welfare I think it’s well worth the trouble and the money. my sister got diagnosed in her second year of college and was able to save her degree bc of extensions on projects and things like that (I didn’t get diagnosed until after college and spent four years torturing myself I WISH I had known) and it can be something that’s better done sooner rather than later. So if it’s something you can do without putting yourself in financial danger I think it’s good to bite the bullet and go for it. like I used up basically all my savings BUT I now can access disability payments and medication so it was worth it for me. it’ll be different for everyone so use your judgement obviously

anyway hope this helped! let me know if you need anything else! and good luck on your journey

#brain tag

[marsupials-of-mars]

Logan's Diary

(Second in my sides' diaries series, eight excerpts from Logan's Emotion Journal experiment picked and curated for your viewing pleasure)

Age 12:

Event: Patton suggested I begin journaling

Emotion: Thoughtful

Context: Patton has brought to my attention that I may be having trouble understanding my own emotions, and suggested i write my feelings in a diary. I assured him that he was being ridiculous, but it prompted in me the idea that as logic, I should have a full understanding of all topics, including emotion, in it's most technical sense. I will not be referring to this as a "diary", and I will not be speaking to it as if it were an individual, as it is a book and can not read or respond. Therefore, I will refer to it as my "Emotion Journal", as that is what it is.

Age 14:

Event: Puberty

Emotion: Overwhelmed(?)

Context: I'm so incredibly fed up with this. Nothing is as it should be, and nobody is willing to listen to reason. Each side has become unruly and chaotic in their own way. Most noticable is Anxiety, who has taken up a position of leadership in the mind. He has no place there. He makes extremely unhealthy decisions due to social pressures or personal worries which have begun to isolate Thomas or cause him to lose his sense of self. He doesn't seem to like the position, but it seems he's been forced into it anyway as his influence has built due to the dreaded neural changes of adolescence. Thomas has begun to wear very dark clothing. However bad all of that is for Thomas, the most unbearable change effecting me personally as a resident of this mind has been Remus. He is absolutely unbearable. Every word or movement he makes causes immense discomfort not only to me but to anyone nearby. Patton has been overly emotional, either crying or unable to sit still, occurring minutes apart from each other in violent mood swings. Roman has been working overtime, attempting to help Thomas through escapism. He creates stories and drawings which distract Thomas from his troubles, but these are momentary fixes, and will become unhealthy if continuous.

Overall, it has been, for lack of a better or more accurate synonym, a clusterfuck, and I'm counting the days until it's over.

Age 15:

Event: Thomas has been questioning his sexuality

Emotion: Annoyed

Context: I don't understand Patton and Roman's persistence in making everything so needlessly complicated. There are many physically attractive girls and yet they decide that they would rather be difficult about it. I don't understand them sometimes. They seem apologetic, but when one is sorry the appropriate action to follow would be to cease one's poor behavior. I've decided to cut contact with both of them for the time being as my feelings toward them at the moment make me prone to irrationalities. I'm always partial to curiosity but high school is already giving me a lot to think about and I don't appreciate having to factor in such a development. I will make the decision to ignore it for now. Perhaps it will eventually cease to be an issue.

Age 18:

Event: Thomas is a legal adult

Emotion: Elated

Context: Thomas turned 18 today, which means as of now he is legally allowed control of his own person in nearly every sense. I've been preparing for this my whole life, and I have a clear view of the many paths we could take from this point onward. Thomas has always been proficient in chemistry, therefore I believe a major in the scientific field would be appropriate. I can hardly contain my excitement. However, Anxiety has been making this transition quite difficult. He keeps insisting that we have no idea what comes next and are entirely unprepared, and somehow this sentiment is drowning out my attempts to guide Thomas. He can be incredibly frustrating to manage, and he's been more and more active as of late. But no matter how much he tries, he will not succede in putting a damper on my good mood.

Age: 25

Event: Thomas insists on continuing to make "Vines"

Emotion: Confused

Context: I will never cease to be entirely bewildered by Thomas's desire to "act", particularly in such small, insignificant, and comical portions. I can somewhat understand his drive for theater, as it is professionally directed and offers a feeling of purpose as well as a decent amount of enrichment both socially and cognitively.

However, these six second looping goofs are of no gain whatsoever. They don't promote social interaction, they don't fill any free time, and there is no true talent involved. Somehow, Roman is enjoying them nearly as much as he appears to enjoy acting onstage. Patton is also quite active lately. I will never truly grasp the appeal of this thespian characteristic of Thomas. Most of his Vines make no logical sense, and are unabashedly ridiculous. He is making a fool of himself. But I do like to see him happy, so I've decided to let this slide, as a benefit to his mental health. However insufferable his Vines, he is always smiling as he makes them, and that is always paramount.

Age 28:

Event: Virgil revealed his name to us

Emotion: Proud

Context: As of late, Anxiety has grown more and more tolerable, and seems to be settling in as one of the light sides. He has been making some real rational arguments, and even when he doesn't succeed, one can tell he is putting effort in, rather than reverting to his usual feigned apathy. It was made clear to me when he changed his jacket. In accepting his color more openly, which he had previously seemed to feel ashamed of, he showed trust and a feeling of belonging. This trust was made even more clear just today, when he revealed his name, Virgil. I feel as if this reveal marks a success in his social progress. There will always be a probability of relapse, but at this moment in time, I pride myself on having put my trust and belief in him. He is quite intelligent when not panicking, and provides a comforting relief from the exuberance of the other two.

Age 30:

Event: I'm nothing but a joke to them

Emotion: Furious

Context: This is why I don't often let my guard down. I trusted them to understand who I am and how I want to be treated, so I presented some of my guilty pleasures: Crofters, singing, poetry, onesies, and the occasional dad joke. I of course took precautions to not overindulge in such nonsense, but I assumed I could allow myself some comfort around who I assumed were my friends. However. They continuously pick at my flaws, they tease me relentlessly for every mistake. To them it's all in good fun, it's some awful game. To me it's not. I feel even more trapped in my outward presentation than before, and they don't seem to notice. It's not my job to tell them how I feel. I manage objective intelligence, they are emotional intelligence. It's their job to understand what I feel for me, they should know what would upset their friend. They know I'm vulnerable, they have to, and they continue to drag me into their silly hijinks and refuse me my objective purpose if I do not conform entirely to it. We have become a joke, we are getting nowhere with this career, we are only plummeting further into the role of some commercialized funnyman, a one dimensional character, and this is what Roman desires that we become. I won't allow it. I need to become who I should be, I cannot allow any further divergence.

Age 30:

Event: Thomas called me "cool"

Emotion: Validated

Context: After helping Thomas manage his introduction to Remus, we had a moment that I can only describe as heartfelt. He called me "cool", something i never really strived to be, but feels wonderful to be described as. Whether or not I am "cool" in an objective sense, what I truly gained from this interaction was appreciation, admiration, respect, and I believe that that is what resonated with me. I always aim to help Thomas, as a side should, and the purest way the favor can be returned is with simple validation. I feel I have an opportunity to employ an expression I've come to enjoy: "on cloud nine". I feel as if I am on cloud nine. That is the best way to describe this feeling. As much as Remus proves himself a nuisance, I have him to thank for providing the grounds for this event to take place. I have reached a balance of who I am and who I want to be, both comfortable and respected. Of course, Thomas doesn't need to be gushed to, and I'm not one for gushing. Therefore, I will now resume my duties as his cool teacher.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 32

Life as a human guinea pig is a strange thing. First of all, there's the questions. The same questions over and over, to the point where the machines and medical doodads and the noise that became almost normal for me, but the questions became the irritant of the day.

"How are you feeling today, Dr. Taylor?" As I'd squint into the bright light being forced into my marrow it seemed. A muttered reply from me, and honestly the same answer in varying degrees of annoyance or acceptance depending upon the day and how many times I'd been asked it so far. "Uh huh, and are you feeling warm? Is there tenderness in your abdomen?" While they poked and prodded, testing skin, muscle, bone and eventually blood.

Did you know the average human adult has around 1.2-1.5 gallons of blood which equals roughly 10 units? I know this because I wanted to be certain that I'd have enough after all the blood testing. Research would either be the way I kept sane or what finally pushed me over the ledge into complete madness, mark my words.

Billy visited, as often as he could, and every single time he'd greet the head poker in residence with his own version of the repeated question game. "How is she? What's the bloody progress?" At which I would inevitably check the arm that seemed to be their favorite vessel for bloodletting. "How much longer?" And then he'd meet my gaze and focus his attention on ME, rather than on my medical condition.

Yes, I was calling it a condition. If I let the reality of my situation fully grip me, then I'd scream. And I had moments of it, trust me.

How would you feel if every single time the man you loved walked in and spoke about your person as though you were a petri dish experiment before reminding himself, through sheer force of finally SEEING you, that you were in fact the woman he loved?

Now take that feeling you just got from that scenario and add the annoyingly taunting voice of the caped asshole who caused this whole fucking irritating bullshit situation reminding you that you fell in love with a man for whom hatred of supes is as natural as inhaling. Feeling just a hint of discomfort? Just add the sound of beeping, buzzing, and dripping to remind yourself of the fact that this was all happening while I was being held hostage as a "let's see what happens if we try this mixture to counteract the demon juice flowing through her veins" was tried over and over.

Strained. My nerves, body, and brain felt strained. Even after the feeding tube was gone and Billy could kiss me. Even after I was given the go ahead to work from my hospital bed. Frayed would be a kind way to say how absolutely on edge I felt.

And the worse part? I felt like I was missing something. Something important. Something paramount. Just out of reach and as though, even surrounded by my laptop and notes, something that was keeping me out of an important loop.

The longer that I stayed in the 'undisclosed medical' location, the more that I wanted to be anywhere else in the world. Literally anywhere. I started to yearn for Bolivia and the Black Ops team that had gotten caught up in the web of a rogue agent and 'died' implicated in a massive fuck up of epic proportions.

When a rational woman who knows how the inner workings of other people's brains and behavior follow reliable patterns starts thinking fondly of the heat of a tropical place where she had to wade through more red tape than most people would assume humanly possible to unravel the truth, all while hearing the type of rumors about the men she was trying to clear and resurrect from faked death, then shit has hit epic levels of horrible. It did remind me to contact that team to see how their return to their former lives had worked out, and wonder if their leader had gotten over his own tragic ability to attract murderous women.

I wanted to go further than the small courtyard deemed safe enough for me to explore, and near enough to make them taking me off the dialysis machine after another fun round of 'clean her blood again' reasonable. I wanted to sleep in my own bed and watch television at my discretion without interruptions for another round of the questions and poking I wanted, in short, to be back to normal already.

I might have been empathizing with Billy's urge for the Vought wankers (his word, I swear) to find the magic solution so life could go back to the routine we both wanted a return to. Or I might have been trying to only see the positive outcome, since there was a creeping feeling that maybe, just maybe there wasn't an easy fix or a fix at all.

A month passed, with my cabin fever slowly increasing by the day, and with it my internal and external temperatures. Oh yeah, that's right, I might have forgotten to mention that while the steaming was at bay, now it was just my actual body temperature that would fluctuate and freak every single fucking person all the way out. When Billy said I nearly went "nuclear" he hadn't been joking, apparently I could have fucking exploded like a goddamn human time bomb and I didn't want to consider just how fucking messy that would have been for the janitorial staff.

Finally, maybe because I wanted some type of control about the questioning, I started asking some probing ones of my own. And what I found, when they would meet my eyes and answer me as fully as I wanted, was that that creeping feeling was growing more likely.

The issue wasn't simply that they didn't know which variation of Compound V that Homelander had me infected with, it was that as they broke down the components and addressed each one, my body didn't simply fight their attempts, it attacked itself. The asshole, it would appear, had basically chosen the self destruct version, and it was trickier than any puzzle these 'real doctors' had ever come across. I was truly feeling the confidence of having a toddler performing my brain surgery with this knowledge.

Oh and that wasn't all, even IF they figured out how to 'neutralize' the formula inside of my bloodstrain, then there was a probability that I could pass it on to any future children. Isn't that some kind of amazingly poetic bullshit to hear after you chose to evict a foreign invader from your uterus? That the one stabilizing agent I'd had scraped and dumped was the ONLY one that I would ever get to actually be allowed to experience. Remind me to send Homelander a HUGE fucking thank you card, would you?

Early into my first true consciousness, before I found out just how fucked the pompous dick had made my entire existence, Billy had told me that my parents had visited while I was knocked out. Apparently near death experiences make even the weirdest of families reunite. And mine was no different.

Mom became a regular visitor and I was shocked by how much I started looking forward to her visits. She was strangely comforting, and tried to keep my spirits up, she even made peace with Billy. Dad was less frequent in his contact, but Mom told me it was difficult for him to see me look like a shell of myself.

And I did. I looked like a ghost that's haunting what was left of my body. The feeding tube had kept me nourished, but my muscle mass had suffered from the amount of time I was forced to spend in bed. I was constantly tired, my work hours going from nine to six to an hour here, a few minutes there, and the amount of napping I did would make most house cats jealous. The gowns that I wore hung from my frame, my appetite was scarce and I felt like this was the LONGEST goodbye letter ever to be written.

As the days passed, one merging into the next without me taking stock of how much I missed, how much that puzzle of what I was missing had bothered me early on, the negative ideas started creeping in. Homelander's voice grew louder. His smug question about Billy and me and what my condition would mean for the two of us in the end kept pushing through my attempts to distract myself.

I was sitting in the soft chair they'd brought in for me by the window, staring out and thinking of my options when Billy came in for his visit. I heard him, in the background noise of beeps and whirls, ask his questions. I felt him when he was nearer to me, but my eyes stayed on the 'view'.

He started to greet me, but my mouth opened and the question came out without me thinking about it. "How will you do it?" I watched a leaf, one missed by the obsessive groundskeepers, dance in a breeze I wish I could feel. He was confused, his reflection showed that much. "When you kill me, how will you do it?"

"Veronica," I could hear the pain in his voice, the fear hiding behind it. "I wouldn't-"

"Frenchie then?" I tilted my head considering. "MM? Hughie barely managed to make the choice with-" I stopped and took a breath. "Kimiko?" I sighed and pulled my legs up onto the chair, hugging my knees. "I hear she makes quite a mess of her prey." My voice wasn't loud and it didn't sound anything more than resigned, and I was a little curious. "If you can get Starlight to do it, you could make it seem like self defense? Or," I sighed, and bit my lip, "it would finally give you a reason to take her out too."

"Ronnie, love, that's not gonna-" I turned and he flinched when he saw that I was serious and not the least bit upset. "Ronnie?"

"Billy Butcher, I wrote the book on you." My smile felt wrong to me, but right at the same time. "I know you inside and out, or at least I think I do." I had the research on the flash drive that was hooked into my laptop on the bed. "You are single minded in your focus and your focus has been on eliminating supes from the world for a very long time." I turned back to the window, staring past the view and at the reflection of the room behind me. "It was one of the things I found the most attractive about you, I think. That you could see a goal and pound away until you master it." He sat in the chair close to me, but at a distance far enough that he'd have to work to touch me. "So, how will I die, Billy?"

"You'll die safe and sound, of old age in our bed, Veronica." I smiled sadly at this pipe dream of a fairy tale he wanted so badly to believe. "When you're sick of me, remember?" I could hear how badly he wanted it to be true, how much he wanted to hold me and it to all be a terrible dream.

"Never took you for a nursery rhyme and fairy stories fan," my eyes were still on the window. "This isn't going away, Billy, what he put in me isn't going away. And you will start to look at me like you look at him." My eyes found his, and face to face I wanted to force him to see it. "You will. And then, just like you, Frenchie, and Hughie brainstormed about Translucent and the best way to end him, you'll start to consider my pressure points." I gave a harsh, humorless chuckle. "And the funniest part is that Homelander built mine in for you, all you have to do is take me off the blood cleanse for a day and my own body will do it for you." His eyes tightened at the reminder of how many close calls I'd had. "Oops, I guess I just planned it for you."

"Please don't." He was begging me to let him pretend it wasn't the truth, that he wouldn't lose me too, and because of the same supe as Becca's cause of death. "Don't do this."

I smiled sadly, knowing he knew, even without me telling him, what was going to happen next.

#Billy Butcher x ofc #the boys #angst #alternate universe

[deathduty]

Pretty Fly Down the Stairs for a Pie Guy || Deirdre & Kaden

Kaden delivers Regan a treat. Deirdre experiences pie lust. 

Deirdre slumped the lab coat at the foot of Regan’s door, staring at it sadly. She wanted to do more, but the question of what to do burned in her head. Part of her thought breaking down the door would be best, the other considered that she was wildly out of her element. Lydia proved to be so much better with this odd sort of sensitivity. Deirdre thought Regan deserved truth at every turn. Now, it seemed, she’d never get it. She lifted her hand up to knock when creaking wood caught her attention instead. Deirdre turned and there at the top of the steep flight of steps to Regan’s level was another failure bent on mocking her. “Kaden…” she rasped, stepping away from the door. She hid the trembling in her hands by stuffing them in her pockets. She couldn’t tell if Regan had been foolish enough to invite him over, but what poor frightened individual wouldn’t want the comfort of the person they were dating? “I thought you were a little…” she tapped her lip. “A little, oh, let’s say--stabbed. Should you really be visiting Regan in such a state? They say some scars are sexy but…” she sucked in a breath, shaking her head. “There’s no hope for your looks.” 

Kaden might have been let out of the hospital, but he still wasn't being allowed to go out and work. Something about near lethal wounds, shit like that. He didn't have a whole lot better to do than bake that day. Plus, he knew he needed to get something for Regan and it was hard to know what. He couldn't have imagined the kind of turn her day was going to take. Shit, dead parent. Something he was way too familiar with. He really understood wanting to be alone, grief was weird that way, but he wished there was more he could do. For now, all he had was a clafoutis and a shitty quickly written note that he honestly had assumed he wouldn't need in the first place. As he climbed the stairs, somehow his day got even fucking worse. Of all the people waiting for him. "Deirdre." His mouth pulled into a thin line as his jaw clenched tight. Why was she here? Right. Guess she was "important" to Regan, sure, but still. "I was. And I'm fine, thanks for checking." He rolled his eyes. "What a shame, guess I’m no longer your type. How ever will I survive?” 

Wouldn’t it have been fun to step forward, reach out with her hands and push Kaden down the stairs? Deirdre considered it. She imagined his head clunking against each sharp wooden step. She pictured him slumped at the bottom, reaching up for her with the last of his energy. This would be retribution for the lives he took, for everything he ruined and for the sure fact he’d kill Regan if he knew the truth. Fun as her fantasy was, it was only a flight of fancy. “Oh no, you’re still my type. There are just so many things I’d love to stick into you.” She squinted. Her nose twitched. “Is that…” she moved closer to him, gesturing. “Is that pie?” Her tongue instinctively darted out over her lip. “You’re...bringing Regan...pie?” Regan liked pie? She liked pie. Why wasn’t she in there, helping Regan, eating pie with Regan, teaching her how to hold her screams and when not to?  

If this conversation lasted too long, Kaden's eyes might roll out of his head. He could feel it already. It was so tempting to just drop the pastry and reach for a knife, get this over with right then and there. Then he'd never have to play nice with her ever again. And maybe he could save someone else from  But there'd be a body. And he wasn't sure he could leave another body for Regan to find right outside her doorstep. When she leaned in towards the pastry dish, he instinctively angled away from her, one foot going back down the stairs. "No," he said shortly. "I mean, yeah, sort of. It's a clafoutis." Was she eyeing his pie? Or was she about to make fun of him. Again. "I am. Yeah. Why do you care?" Then it hit him. Was that why she was here?The scream earlier. The broken windows in the apartment as he walked in. Regan's father. Fuck. He could throw the pie down right the hell down and kill her then. "Wait, don't fucking tell me-- did you? Was that you earlier? That fucking scream?"

Deirdre didn’t need to read emotions to know that Kaden hated her. Which was fair, considering she hated him. He was far more tolerable before Deirdre knew he was dating Regan, and every day that passed where he was still dating Regan only added to that hatred. She didn’t have much room to talk, dating a human herself, but there was still something to be said about humans being beneath fae. Unless those humans were Morgan. And of all the inferior humans, Regan had to go and pick from the bottom of the bunch. “Clafoutis,” she repeated perfectly, eyeing the treat with hunger, desire, lust (as much lust as one could eye a pie with). “Oh,” she lifted her gaze, “oh, right. I’m so sorry, Kaden. I was so caught up in Regan that I forgot to tell you. I screamed for you. I’m so saddened by your departure off this earth but fate can not be avoided.” Deirdre glanced back at the pie. “Did you bake that? Can I have that since you’re dying?”

“Too bad it’s not for you. But if you want one, I’ll be sure to add in a nice iron supplement. I know how hard it is for you to get enough.” Kaden nearly stepped back down the stairs another level, but he thought better of it. He wasn’t going to back away, not from her. Fuck no. Instead he took a step closer, hoping to loom over her, maybe even intimidate. And he thought he might have a chance, but her comment about the scream being for him threw him. Could it be? His eyes grew wide, but he tried to hide it, keep his face neutral. Regan, that death curse or whatever it was. Was it possible? “Did you now? What a shame. How long do I have? You know? And this is for Regan, not you. Wow, about to steal from her. And here I thought she was your friend.” For a  moment he almost believed her. But something about it was too easy. She wasn’t nearly gleeful enough if that were true. No, that wasn’t right. It couldn’t have been for him. Regan’s dad. It had to be. The timing. And she was here of all places. “Cut the crap. I know her father died. What was it that brought you here? Pang of guilt? Some fucking remorse?”

“Oh, thank you,” Deirdre hissed, though maintained a broad but thin smile. Kaden stepped closer to her. She thought he might stab her for a moment, she braced herself for the knife that never came. That would be his mistake, not stabbing her while he could. “You don’t know what she is to me,” her voice turned frigid as she glared at him. There were no words to describe how precious Regan was to her, no way she could explain that she’d die before she let Kaden harm the only person in this town that could truly understand her. She didn’t imagine the breadth of her protectiveness was reflected in her eyes, but she hoped he might understand that he’d have to kill her if he wanted her gone. “Why would I feel guilty? She’s important to me, and she just lost her father. I want to protect her and you--” she jabbed a finger into his chest, trying to push him backward, “are the last thing she needs. So, what are you doing here? Giving her pie like you’re the kind of person that deserves her kindness?”  

“I don’t. So what is she? Your next victim? Something worse? I know you say you give a shit but I don’t trust you,” he said, voice laced with venom. And he wished Regan didn’t trust her either. Kaden couldn’t understand why Deirdre was so protective over Regan. It wasn’t something he had managed to figure out and Regan certainly wasn’t telling him and the fae standing in front of him right now was nothing but cryptic at best and horrifically obnoxious at worst. He also wasn't completely sure how banshees worked, never something he did a whole lot of research on, seemed worthless. He wasn’t a warden and they were so rare he figured he’d never come across one. But he knew they caused death. At least that was what he heard. And that scream, that ear piercing scream, it had to be what did it, what killed Regan’s father. It was sure tied to it at least. The timing was too uncanny. If only she’d fucking admit it. “Why would you feel guilty for killing her father?” he scoffed. “Can’t fucking imagine.” Her finger dug right into his stitches and as much as he was acting like he was perfectly fine, they were still pretty fresh. He didn’t want to, but his face scrunched up as he winced and stepped away. His hand went to clutch at the pain and he nearly dropped the pastry. Fucking Deirdre. “Fuck you,” he practically spat in her face. “She’s important to me, too. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. But this isn’t even about me. It’s about her.” He wanted to say she needed him but, honestly, he wasn’t sure about that. She probably didn’t. That wasn’t the point, though. And he didn’t need a banshee to decide that one way or another.

The mere idea she would harm Regan was insulting enough, hearing it said with so much hatred as though it could be true was another. Deirdre’s face flickered with hurt; she didn’t need Kaden to like her, but her devotion to Regan was the most honest thing she’d ever offered the man. “You don’t have to trust me to believe I care about her,” she shook her head, hurt was replaced with anger and shock with a snarl. He was right, at least, about her feeling guilty. Unfortunately, it was for the wrong reason. She wouldn’t explain herself though, his misinformation suited her. The less he knew, the less likely he would be to identify Regan. Paramount to any hate, above any desire to harm Kaden, stood her want to care for the young banshee. He wouldn’t understand it even if she explained. No one would. Then Kaden did something odd, he winced. “So the big bad wolf hunter is still wounded, huh?” At his pain, she smirked. “A man like you, a killer…I’m sure you understand how against your duty she’d be. How important is she if you lie to her? If you cling so selfishly to a relationship doomed to fail.” She gave him a look she thought he might recognize; the gleam of a hunter at its prey. With ease, she took the pastry from his hands. “No, Kaden. Fuck you. And would you like to know why?” Deirdre leaned in, her voice was sharp and thick with controlled rage. “I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do, I’m reminding you of the truth. You don’t get the pretend sweet relationship with the clueless girl. There’s a place people like you belong and it’s--” she reached out again, hand hovering above his wounded chest. “At the bottom.” Then she shoved him forward with as much force as she could, his pastry kept safely in her hands, as if it belonged there. 

Kaden hated showing any signs of weakness, especially to the enemy, but he had just been stabbed only a few days ago. His eyes narrowed, he didn't think he could hate her more but she kept making it so easy. Some part of him knew every word she was saying was just an attempt to dig farther and farther under his skin until she lived there like a parasite he couldn't remove.

“I’m only lying to her out of necessity. Like everyone fucking else is. You know she can’t handle it. Any of it.” He didn’t even know if he believed what he was saying but he couldn’t even see straight at that point; he could feel his blood begin to boil and his grip tighten around the dish he was holding. Careful, too much and he'd break it, he had to remind himself. Just as he loosened his grip for a second, she swiped out and took the pastry away from him. He went to reach for it back, but her hand blocked him. He knew the second he did, she’d jam her finger back into the wound and make it worse. He was stuck. Fucking hated that. Before he could say a single word in reply, she'd pushed his chest, somehow again finding the fucking stab wound and sending more searing pain shooting straight through him. It was enough to make him lose his balance, his foot miss the stair behind him, and send him tumbling back. Fuck. He did his best to turn it into a roll, wrapping his arms around his head to protect it. But he could feel his flesh tearing against the stitches as he reached the bottom. He groaned and grumbled some French curse words as he pulled himself up onto his knees. Everything hurt, but he did a quick check that nothing was injured. Shit, blood was coming through his shirt. Mother fucker. "The fuck is wrong with you?!" He had every inclination to run up there, knife in hand, and jam it right through her heart. He had a feeling he'd find a fucking gaping hole where it should have been. Then he looked past her at the door. And he remembered who was behind it. Shit, she probably heard all that, too. His jaw clenched and his teeth ground together, but he had to hold in the anger. “I’m walking away. For now. For her. If you know what’s good for you, stay the fuck away from me.”

It was once with great pride that Deirdre could say she never lied to Regan. No matter what anyone else did, no matter what they thought was best, she offered her the truth fairly. Of course, that wasn’t the case anymore and that fact alone had been the cause of her strife. “There is no such thing as a lie of necessity,” she mumbled. What made Kaden better than Regan’s father then? Did he lie to keep her in a box too? Did he lie about the nature of his character, high off the deception? She watched him tumble down with less enjoyment than she imagined. When had pushing humans down stairs gotten less fun for her? When did she start caring at all about the people she had to kill? When had guilt been something she felt? When had her heart learned, even slow, to ache this way? She glanced at his treat as he screamed, then back at him as he stormed off. In silence, she placed the pastry with care above the lab coat, propping his note up beside it. The words he’d hastily written answered her question. He cared for Regan as she was, even if he didn’t know the entirety of the truth. And, likewise, Regan cared for him. When had she started feeling wrong for harming Kaden? That was the curse of the observer, to know so much but be able to do so little. Her life wasn’t meant to be lived as anything more than a shadow. When had she started to want something else?

#wickedswriting #c: kaden #chatzy #credit to casey for the great title!!! #pie lust #pretty fly down the stairs for a pie guy

[pompeiibonzai]

The Impact of Clover

I’ll probably get flack for this, but honestly I don’t care.  This is something that has been eating at me for roughly two weeks now and if I don’t get something written down and out into the ether, I might lose it.

(Cut due to longish rant and possible spoilers)

I had no emotional response to Clover’s death.  It didn’t affect me.

I mean, I get why it was a big deal for Qrow and I felt bad for him. In fact, I’ll even go so far as to say that Jason Leibricht really sold the emotional impact the moment had on our favorite birb uncle.  As the season progressed, I wasn’t entirely sold on Jason for this role.  To me, it felt as though he was holding back or playing it safe and as a result had fallen into the Generic Older Male Voice (also known as Dad Voice) that I’ve heard a thousand times before.  But this moment, that guttural yell of “I’ll kill you!” after Tyrian skewered Clover with Harbinger, followed by the quiet oath to bring Ironwood down really brought out the emotion of the scene. It all underlined how Qrow, who was just starting to crawl out of his rock bottom, has had his footing outed from under him again and is prepared to cross a line he may not come back from.  Kudos to Jason for bringing that kind of emotion to the role.

But I’m not here to talk about Jason’s performance.  I’m not really even here to talk about Qrow.  I’m here to talk about Clover as a character and why his death (rather than Qrow’s response to it) didn’t hit me as it seems to have hit so many others.

The main reason is that I don’t feel as though we were given anything about Clover to make us care about him as a character.  At the end of the Volume 7, all I took away from Clover as a character was:

1.      Elite Soldier (Huntsman?)

2.      Follows Orders (loyal to Ironwood)

3.      “Good”

And I’ll admit, I wasn’t even sold on that last point until literally the end of the volume. Why?  Because we were told nothing about him and it felt as though it was done on purpose, like something was purposefully being kept from us as an audience. I think that’s why so many people (myself included) didn’t trust Clover. 

This brings me to the concept of character motivations.  Motivations (why a character does or says the things they do or say) are paramount to a character.  Those three traits I listed above are a good base for a character, but they aren’t in of themselves motivations.  How did Clover become a member of the Ace Ops, much less their leader.  Why is he so loyal to Ironwood that he would risk arresting his ally and supposed “friend” (while in the middle of transporting a known serial killer), just to follow his orders?  What is his interest in Qrow?  Does he remind Clover of someone he was once close to?  Does he not like seeing people so down on themselves?  Does he feel some kind of connection to him because of their semblances or because they share the unique position of knowing the Truth?

These are all questions that could have easily been answered in any of the interactions between Clover had with Ironwood, his team or Qrow.  I’m not saying we need an in-depth backstory or anything close, but a couple of lines here and there that give the audience a little insight into his character.

An example of some established character motivations and is the insight we were given for Ironwood.  I don’t agree with the decisions he’s making by the end of the volume (in fact, I think they’re absolutely terrible decisions), but I at least understand why he’s making them.  We are shown repeatedly the motivations that are currently driving Ironwood.  As one of the few people who know the truth about Salem, he feels an immense responsibility to keep Atlas safe.  However, because of the growing tensions between Atlas and Mantle, he feels increasingly overwhelmed and isolated.  Penny’s father observes that Ironwood is tired and we see that ourselves within the first few minutes of the first episode.  Ironwood also feels a sense of responsibility for what happened to Vale.  He says that it was his machines that were used against them and that he isn’t going to ever let that happen again.  In a way, even with Penny and Winter at his side and the Ace Ops backing him up, Ironwood has taken his kingdom’s survival onto his own shoulders and his shoulders alone.

I could go on dissecting Ironwood’s character and his motivations, but that’s a different paper for a different time.  The point I’m trying to make here is that by establishing Ironwood’s motivations and giving an insight into his character, the audience is given a reason to care about him and the decisions he makes, regardless if we think them to be good or bad.  We don’t get that with Clover.

Because we don’t know anything about Clover’s motivations, the fact that he tries to arrest Qrow while in the middle of transporting Tyrian, not only makes him look foolish, but far from the elite soldier he’s made out to be.  You would think that an elite soldier would come to the reasonable conclusion that getting the very dangerous serial killer in his custody to a secure location would be the bigger priority than arresting a possibly rogue huntsman.  I remember staring at my screen dumbfounded when Clover got up to attempt to arrest Qrow. I even said out loud: “You idiot! Get the killer behind bars first! What are you doing?!”  If we had been told (or better yet shown) that Clover has the same sort of blind loyalty to Ironwood that Qrow had to Ozpin, this would have made more sense.  Don’t get me wrong, it still would have been stupid, but at least we would have understood why his priorities were skewed the way they were.

Similarly, we don’t know Clover’s reasoning for befriending Qrow in the first place, therefore his attempts to arrest him and the resulting fight don’t carry the weight I think it should have or was meant to have.  And here I’m going to say something that is probably going to be very unpopular: I never bought the friendship (or budding ship, if you’re into shipping) the plot was trying to set up between them.  To me it felt incredibly one-sided.  Clover said a couple of nice things to Qrow for Reasons and suddenly the two of them are besties?  Potential lovers?  That’s not how that works!  I don’t know, maybe coming off of Volume 6 Qrow was so starved for positive attention from someone that literally anyone could have said something nice to him and he’d immediately be eating out of the palm of their hand.  This “friendship” reminded me so much of Caboose’s one-sided friendship with Church in RvB.  However, where Caboose and Church is played for laughs (mostly), Qrow and Clover is played perfectly straight and I couldn’t help but cringe every time the two of them interacted on screen.  As I mentioned earlier, if it had not been for Jason bringing his A-game in that final fight between them, the whole thing would have fallen so flat for me.

Again, it didn’t have to be this way.  Clover could have easily said “hey, man, I’ve been where you are now…” or “you remind me of a someone I knew…” or “my semblance has isolated me too…” or something that would have explained why he decided Qrow needed to hear what he had to say.  We could have learned about Clover as a character.  Hell, if we had learned more about him we could have drawn parallels between him and Qrow, their semblances of good and bad luck and their relationships with and to their respective superiors.  Through learning about Clover, we could have seen their bond form and grow.  Then when the two of them found themselves facing off against each other, weapons drawn, prepared to fight each for their own reasons it would have had a more significant impact.  Clover’s death then could have been gut-wrenching, not just for Qrow, but for us.  It could have meant so much more.  Clover could have been so much more than simply a tool used to further someone else’s story arc.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #Fischer Writes! #unpopular opinion probably

[stealing-jasons-job]

10 Questions Tag Game

Rules: Answer 10  15 questions, ask 10, and tag 10 people however many people your heart desires to answer them.

Tagged by the amazing @burninghoneyatdusk, @nakey-cats-take-bathsss, and @bookwormforalways, so you guys are getting 15 answers from me. 🥰

I apologize in advance for getting deep on main. lol 

1. Do you believe in soulmates/true love?

I don’t believe in soulmates, but I do believe in true love. 

Is there one person we’re fated to be with forever and ever? No, I don’t think so. As much as I love soulmate AUs and the idea of there being one person you know you’ll click with no matter what... I just don’t think it’s realistic. 

Instead, I think that there are lots of people you’re compatible with. And some people get lucky and meet a person they are compatible with at a time when both of them are ready to commit and build a life together. When that happens, you’re building a relationship and partnership that I believe turns into true love over time. 

2. What’s your happy place?

This is hard because I have a lot of happy places, but I think my number one happy place is my high school’s softball field. I’ve spent hundreds of hours on that field over my lifetime, and I miss it a lot now that I’m grown and moved away from home. Playing softball, being on the pitcher’s mound, was always where I just felt the most myself. I was 100% in my element, surrounded by some of my closest friends I’d known since I was 8 years old when we all played on the same tournament team. Worries about my body, all the bullshit with my dad, friend drama, boy drama, anxieties about the future... none of it could touch me when I was inside the fence of that field practicing or playing. 🥎

3. If you could befriend one fictional character (book/show/movie) who would it be and why?

Part of me wants to say Bellamy Blake because I would marry that man (sorry, Clarke). lol But I think realistically, I’m going to go with Olivia Pope because powerful friends are helpful and she’s a badass I’d like to have in my corner. 

4. Song lyrics that apply to your current mental state/state of your life rn: 

The song Lady Like by Ingrid Andress is my anthem rn. I relate to the entire song so much, but here’s the pre-chorus/chorus: 

“Controversial, so outspoken

I've been told I'm not ladylike

-

But I'm a lady, like whoa

I could bring you to your knees and

Get you kicked out the Garden of Eden

Untamable, unframeable, Mona Lisa, oh

Kiss you like a whiskey fire

Turn around, leave your heart in a riot

Lipstick in a cigarette pack on the dash

I'm a lady like that

I'm a lady like that”

5. What’s something that helps you stay positive even when things get hard?

Writing. It’s my passion, and I love crafting stories. It’s a way to escape — create a new world for me to live in or insert myself into a world I wish I could visit. But it’s also a good way to give myself perspective. My stress about work is smaller when I’m writing about characters trying to prevent the apocalypse. The current shit show that is... well, the whole world, is something I feel I can make a positive impact in when I’m writing about characters fighting a government conspiracy. 

6. What’s a memory you wish that you could go back in time to and relive?

This is so random, but one time in high school my group of friends did a big scavenger hunt. Each team made their own list of riddles for the other team to solve and then photograph within the city limits of our small town. After we got done, we went to our high school football field and broke into the press box to screw around with the PA system. Afterward, we just walked around for a while, laid down under the traffic light in the middle of the road (it was like 3 AM at this point on a backroad, so no cars).  It was such a wholesome night. lol Just 7 teenagers screwing around and having fun — not a single care in the world. I was in that weird, flirty stage with one of my guy friends. I had a softball game against our school rival coming up that I was excited for. Life was simple. I’d go back and relive that night in a heartbeat. 

7. If you could talk to your 13 year old self, what would you tell her/advice would you give her?

Being vulnerable isn’t the end of the world, and your worth is not conditional on your strength or usefulness. 

**Potenital TW** 

My dad was verbally and emotionally abusive my entire childhood (still is, I just am better equipped to handle it as an adult that doesn’t live in the same state). I grew up thinking that love was conditional and all vulnerabilities would be exploited for someone else’s gain. That any weakness shown would be used to hurt me. That makes it really hard for me to open up to people (for example, I would not be telling you guys this story if we were sitting in the same room rather than me typing it out on screen — and it’s still giving me anxiety to share), and it makes it really hard for me to form deep attachments and friendships since those typically hinge on sharing parts of yourself and being vulnerable with someone else. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have helped, but maybe if I could go back and tell myself during those formidable years that none of that is true... who knows how things could be different, how I could be different. 

Anyway, sorry about that sob story. Moving on. 

8. What’s your favorite quote of all time? Why?

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.” ― Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Because this logic can be applied to almost everything: Confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity, but rather the understanding that you have worth despite them. Goodness isn’t the absence of badness or darkness, but rather the conscious decision to reject those impulses to be better. Love isn’t to see an absence of flaws or irritation, but to respect and appreciate someone in part because of them. 

Plus, Princess Diaries I and II remain two of my favorite movies, which is where I first heard this quote. 👑

9. What is the quality you value most in a friend?

Being genuine. As mentioned above, the trust and emotional intimacy issues are real with me. lol But if I know you are a genuine person who’s going to shoot me straight and be upfront about what you’re thinking, feeling, etc. then it’s easier for me to let you in. It may take time, but it’ll happen eventually. 

10. If the pandemic magically ended today, how would you spend tomorrow?

On a plane. To somewhere with new people, crowded spaces, restaurants galore. Hong Kong, maybe. Or Tokyo. 🏙️

11. If you could go back in time and live in any era & location, and face no danger, where would you choose?

Vikings. God, I would have thrived in a Nordic society. Women’s rights were paramount, being strong and tough as a woman was celebrated, sword fighting and archery and rowing were important skills, they lived in cold places (I like winter), there’s a possibility I could have trained a dragon. Like, I’d miss some modern technology, but I’d live. lol 

12. What heroine of a movie, book, tv show, story, or history do you relate to most?

Honestly? Clarke Griffin. Bossy + has zero chill + occasionally says somethign v sassy + afraid of being vulnerable + refusal to show any weakness + doesn’t talk about her feelings + in love with Bellamy Blake + rocks the black leather aesthetic + wants to save the world but makes questionable decisions to do so? ✅✅✅

13. Without saying who the person is, what is a question you wish you could ask someone but can’t?

What the actual fuck do you think are you doing? 

(I’d actually like to ask this to two people, and I bet all of you can guess the two people right away lololol) 

14. In one sentence, what are you personally struggling with right now? 

Figuring out where I fit into the world. 

15. What’s a book/article/story that brought you joy/comfort/healing that you wish others would read?

How to Walk Away by Katherine Center. 

It’s a beautiful book that taught me a lot about self-worth, throwing out your life playbook (because it never goes according to plan), and thriving where you’re planted rather than lamenting the fact that you aren’t in a different garden. 

12/10 recommend! (Her other books are also amazing.) 

So I know this has made the rounds, and that everyone I’m about to tag has probably already been tagged, but here goes:  @historyofbellarke | @bellamyfknblake | @angstybleuskies | @fightformidnightx​ | @talistheintrovert​ | @junebugninja​ | @mobi-on-a-mission​ | @queenemori​ | @sassybooks​ | @edgelessness​ | + Anyone else who wants to join! 

My questions for you...

(Stealing some from others because they were good!) 

1. What album/playlist do you listen to when you’re in need of some inspiration/motivation? 

2. If money wasn’t an object, what would you want to do with your life? 

3. What’s your happiest memory? 

4. What’s something that helps you stay positive even when things get hard? 

5. What’s a book/movie/tv show that you turn to when you’re feeling down and need comfort? 

6. Do you believe in soulmates? 

7. If you could be anywhere in the world tomorrow (pretending COVID-19 doesn’t exist), where would you be and why? 

8. How do you define success? 

9. What’s your favorite quote of all time, and why? 

10. If there’s anyone in the world you could spend the day with (fictional, historical, someone you know, anyone at all), who would it be and why? 

#tag games #it's a long one lol #about me #personal #changingthefairy-tale

[quirkykayleetam]

Broken Pieces Pt. 4: Beth’s Answer

Beth knew something was wrong as soon as Jay didn’t walk through the doors of their apartment building at exactly 5:37 pm.

She imagined what always happened at time, what should have been happening then: Jay would check their mail, draining the last drops of soda from a Grape Crush can.  Condensing the aluminum, they would smile to themselves and deftly toss the can into the recycling bin while humming a wordless tune.  They would switch their mail to their left hand before heading up the stairs to knock on Beth’s door and tell her the stock market index.  Beth didn’t know why Jay did this.  To her knowledge, neither of them owned stocks, but it made Jay feel better, so Beth always smiled and wished them well.

That was their routine.  That was safe.  This emptiness was not.

“Calm down,” Beth muttered to herself, sipping herbal tea from a hideously orange discount mug.  “The kid could have a night out with friends.  (On a Thursday?)  They could work late.  (Despite their painstaking precision)  They could...have a date?”

Beth shouldn’t be worried about them.  Not when they were just a few minutes late.

But then Jay didn’t show up to the apartment’s lounge the next morning to help Beth with her crossword puzzle.  They didn’t tease her about ignoring the Sudoku or make faces at her mug of tea.  Beth grit her teeth and shut her eyes.  She couldn’t take it anymore.  She had to act, to do something, to try to right this wrong in the world.

“What’s the name?”

“Jay.  Well, technically Jonathan Anthony Young.  Junior.  Their dad died a few years ago and they’ve gone by Jay ever since.”

Beth knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it.  The police station made her nervous and the cop behind the desk just wouldn’t seem to listen.

“Age?”

“26.  Maybe 27?  They don’t talk about their birthday much because they hate being the center of attention and never want folks to make a fuss.”

“And you are?”

“Their neighbor.”

“Just a neighbor?”

“A friend.”  

Beth squeezed her hands together.  She needed more caffeine.

“Look, are you sure he didn’t just go out of town for a few days without telling you?  I mean, it’s not like you’re family,” the cop said, fake sympathy dripping from her voice.

That was it.  Beth had had enough.  She slammed her shaking hands down on the desk in front of her.

“Look, the kid has OCD, okay?  They don’t break their routines, not for anything or anyone. So when I say Jay didn’t meet me for tea and crosswords this morning I’m not saying that I miss them.  I’m saying that they’re MISSING.  If you don’t let me file a Missing Person’s report whatever happens to them is on you.”

***

72 hours.

Beth cursed under her breath as she left the precinct.  72 hours before the police would do anything.  72 hours before anyone else would even care.  Beth tried to hold out half a hope that Jay’s fancy-pants computer job would notice when he didn’t show up in the morning, but she was too angry to think straight.

Jay was in trouble and she couldn’t help him.  All she could do was wait.

Months passed. Beth had never felt more useless.  Somedays her godawful mugs were filled with more whiskey than tea.

Then there was a knock on her door in 342 B.

“Elizabeth Martinez?”

The man in the suit eyed Beth warily, but remained professional.  Whoever he was expecting, it obviously wasn’t an overweight 38-year-old secretary.  His hands were full of papers and he was backed by stiff security guards.

Beth straightened her posture.  She wouldn’t intimidated without a damn good reason.

“Yes,” she said, parking her body in the middle of her door.

“You were listed by Morgan Security as Jay’s emergency contact.”

The words almost made her knees buckle.

“What happened?  Did you find him?  Is he..?”

“He’s alive.”

Beth breath wooshed out of her in a rush.  She felt something like relief for the first time in months and it terrified her.

“We’d like to discuss the details,” the suited man continued.  “May we come in.”

Beth stepped back from the door.

***

Torture.

Beth’s hands gripped her mouth and her chest as they told her.  Jay had been TORTURED.  Apparently they’d held up well, hadn’t given up anything.  Beth couldn’t care less about that.  She just wanted to spare him that pain.  That agony.  Jay was just a kid.  They didn’t deserve…

She shook her head and turned back to the conversation.  That train of thought would take her nowhere.  She couldn’t help Jay then, but she could as hell help them now.

Morgan Security didn’t want this to go public.  Their clients’ trust in their company was paramount.  The business didn’t want it shaken by a scandal like this.  They offered to pay for all of Jay’s medical bills, rent for a house out of the city, a generous stipend for Beth so she could take care of Jay full time.

Remuneration, they called it.  Thanks for Jay’s hard work and loyalty.

Beth called it Hush Money.

She still signed on the dotted line.

“Jay’s mother?” She demanded before the deal was done.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s sick.  Lives in a psych ward at Felicity General.  Jay always spent a considerable amount of their salary to keep her cared for and comfortable.”

“Certainly,” the suit said.  “We can continue those arrangements.”

“Good.  Now when can I see Jay?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

Beth squared her gaze and prepared for a fight.

“Jay’s parents are out of the picture.  Their father is dead and their mother can’t tell a hawk from a handsaw.  What do you want to bet that Jay put me down as primary carer on his medical forms too?  Wait, I bet you already know that.  So if you want to try to stop me from tracking that kid down and ramming 12 lawsuits down your throat, be my guest.  I think it would be easier if you took me to him.  Now.”

The suit straighten his tie and cleared his throat.  He nodded.

Beth grabbed her purse to follow him out the door when she heard a soft murmur from the security guard behind her.

“All this trouble for one broken computer tech…”

Before she knew it, Beth was at the man’s throat, finger pointed firmly at his nose.

“You will never call Jay broken again, you hear me?  They may be hurt.  Hell, they may be hurting for the rest of their life.  But they are a person, not a thing you can toss on the ground and just leave.  They gave everything for you and even if they didn’t, they would still deserve your respect.”

She spit in the guard’s face.  No one else moved.

“Now come with me,” she said darkly.  “I’ve got a job for you.”

***

A flurry of activity met Beth and the suit as they walked into Jay’s spacious hospital room.  Guards were stationed at every entrance.  Beth wasn’t sure if they were supposed to make Jay feel safe or to protect Morgan Security’s investment.

“What’s wrong?” the suit said.

“Jay’s asking again,” said a nearby nurse, walking by with a used IV.  “We’ve tried telling them that the operation took 8 hours or that they slept on and off for 3 days.  They’re still agitated.  We don’t want to sedate them until after the doctor has examined their ribs.”

Beth breezed passed the conversation until her eyes found the hospital bed.  Immediately, her hands went to her mouth and chest again.

Jay was hardly recognizable.  Even at 6’2,’’ they looked small.  Starvation had withered them down to a bean pole.  The parts of their skin that was visible above the blankets was purpled with bruises that seemed to sink into their body like they were still being beaten.  Their hands were suspended above them, encased in white plaster casts with splints everywhere that Beth could see.

Jay was clearly exhausted and disoriented.  Dark circles under his eyes betrayed in the wildness within.  They thrashed against their restraints, trying to meet the gaze of everyone around them.

“How long?” they asked, voice cracking.  “How long?”

“7 months, 24 days, and this morning,” Beth said loudly.  Everyone in the room turned to look at her.  She kept her eyes planted firmly on Jay’s.

“You’ve been gone for 7 months, 24 days, and this morning,” she continued, motioning the security guard she accosted in her apartment to bring over a formidable cardboard box.  “And we noticed, Jay.  We missed you every second.  We would never let you fade away.”

The patient’s struggling ceased.  Jay looked back at Beth, still lost.

She went to the box and lifted newspaper after newspaper out of it, bringing all she could hold in her arms to Jay’s bedside.  She held them up one by one so Jay could see the dates, the tangible proof that time existed outside of whatever cell he was held in, proof that they were out of there and that this, this was real.

“That’s today’s date, Jay-bird.  That’s the date you are free.”

Jay, however, just kept scanning the page until he found the Sunday crossword.

“You didn’t do it,” they whispered.

“Of course not.  I didn’t do any of them.” Beth said, gesturing to the box of papers.  “I couldn’t.  Not...not without you.”

She brushed curly blond hair back from Jay’s forehead as it tightened into a frown.

“But, I can’t...I can’t help you,” Jay said miserably, gesturing with his head at his splintered hands.

“Pfft, as if I ever let you write on my crosswords anyway!” Beth said gently.  “Now will you settle down and let these doctors do their job?  I don’t know about you, but I need a nap.  Then you can help me with 12 down.  It’s a stumper.”

For the first time sense the Faceless Men jumped them, Jay smiled.  They settled back against the pillows, fading quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

@dragonyoudownwithme​ requested Anger Born of Worry.  I’m pretty darn sure this counts!

I really wanted you all to meet Beth and (hopefully) love her like I do.  Please let me know what you think!!!

Tagging the Broken Pieces Crew: (If you want to be added or taken off this list, just let me know!):  @stoic-whumpee​​, @whatwasmyprevioususername​​, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall​​, @straight-to-the-pain​​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​, @0idril0​​, @fallingstormphoenix​​, @whump-fantasies​​, @imagination1reality0​​, @whumpback-wail​, @whump-tr0pes​, @untilthepainstarts​, @captivity-whump​

#Whump #Hurt/Comfort #Broken Pieces #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Anger Born of Worry #Original Characters #Beth #Jay #quirkykayleetam writes #Hospitalization #Broken Bones #Aftermath

[succeedsuccess]

To Be Successful, Have Successful Beliefs

Successful people have successful beliefs. If you need examples for defining a successful belief, I suggest finding people you deem 'successful' and ask them, or read biographies from great minds you admire (sorry, mine isn't written yet. I kid, I kid.). If you talk with some of the most successful people in the world, past or present, the most common denominator is related to the goals they set and the beliefs they hold.

The belief in yourself, your abilities, your value, and your future success is paramount.

Let's dig in.

The Power of a Belief

"It always seems impossible until it's done." ~ Nelson Mandela

In 1954, the commonly held belief in the world was that it was humanly impossible to run a four-minute mile. That's until Roger Bannister came along, believing and proclaiming he'll do the impossible. Sure enough, after many close attempts, he broke the four-minute barrier by.6 seconds! He shattered people's beliefs by doing the impossible.

Know what happened next? A shift in belief occurred, which led to a plethora of runners conquering this once 'impossible' feat. Today, thousands of people have done it.

I don't believe humans evolved at such a rapid rate in the 50s and thus allowing our muscle fibers to increase in density, enabling new increases in speed and longevity. The only factor that changed was the belief that is was possible - starting with Roger Bannister, believing in himself and not allowing a commonly held belief to hold him back.

What you think about most, what you focus on, what you believe, has a direct connection to your overall well-being, happiness, and success. Check out 'Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Reality' for a more detailed discussion.

Clarity is Power

Beliefs form our view on life, and nobody wants a blurry view. Our beliefs naturally guide us in the direction we most desire, and the clearer we are, the better the results. Our subconscious can be our best friend or our worst nightmare, and proper programming (via our thoughts and beliefs over time) is required. Put garbage in, get garbage out.

Developing clarity is one of the hardest things to do; we are very complex creatures and knowing oneself thoroughly is not easy. I was always the kid trying to do anything and everything because I never knew what I wanted out of this life. I would tell my dad "If I knew what I wanted to do, I would start now and be the best at it!" - I was 12 years old. Sure, I held the empowering belief I could do anything and be great at it, but unfortunately, I had no where to point this energy. My goals and aspirations were fuzzy at best.

Let's look at a better example, from a person who knew what he wanted to do and the value he believed he was worth...

Picture the story of Canadian born Jim Carrey, rising from being a small time Comedian in Ontario, and landing on the big screens all over the world. Want to know something special about him? As crazy as he portrayed himself on screen, Jim had clarity - he knew what success meant to him and he believed he had the ability to capture it. Do you have this kind of belief in yourself? This is what he had to say:

"I wrote myself a check for ten million dollars for acting services rendered and dated it Thanksgiving 1995. I put it in my wallet and it deteriorated. And then, just before Thanksgiving 1995, I found out I was going to make ten million dollars for Dumb and Dumber. I put that check in the casket with my father because it was our dream together." ~ Jim Carrey

He knew his value, he believed in himself, and even put a deadline on it!

Do your dreams have deadlines? Do you possess the beliefs in yourself to back them up?

Great Role Models

Did you know that Michael Jordan was dropped from his High School team? He believed in himself, he believed he could fly, and before we all knew it he was flying across the NBA courts. In his book, "I Can't Accept Not Trying", he says that he can accept failure, but he can't accept not trying.

Lance Armstrong believes that winning is about heart, not just the legs. Your heart has to be in the right place. He also believes that if you are worried about falling off the bike, you'd never get on.

When Tiger Woods was a young boy, he wrote down on a 3x5 card that he was going to break all of Jack Nicklaus' records. Look at him now. Jack Nicklaus agrees that Woods can do it if he stays on the track he's on.

Bill Gates believes in the importance of hard work, and if you are intelligent and know how to apply your intelligence, you an achieve anything. This led him to drop out of college (scary!) to follow his passions.

Will Smith believes 'I can create whatever I want to create,' and 'We are who we choose to be'. Pretty powerful beliefs no?

All these people started with a belief and moved on to greatness. They believed in themselves and it's easily visible with everything they do. You shouldn't have to build confidence in yourself by the accomplishments you achieve, you should achieve accomplishments by the confidence you have in yourself.

What Prevents Successful Beliefs?

Have you failed more often than not? Have you been told by people close to you, that you won't amount to anything? What is holding you back from holding successful beliefs?

That last question may sound silly, because why would anyone hold onto beliefs that are NOT beneficial to themselves? Ludicrous! Well, this tends to be the main problem that people have, because belief formation is not dependent on a logical framework and are extremely resistant to logical thinking.

Why would a person believe they can't do something if they have no past experience in which to base that belief? Isn't it just as easy to believe you can do something? It sure is, but usually fear finds a way to sneak in and blind us. That is what is so great about fear - fearis usually a red flag, an indicator for opportunities to grow. If our beliefs create our reality, than in order to change our reality, we must first change our beliefs. Let's look at how we can do that.

The Power of Positive Affirmations

Positive affirmations refer to consciously programming your brain with positive thoughts. Reminding yourself of the potential you possess, the feelings you want to experience, the life you expect to have, and the life you want to live. I suggest creating your own affirmations that are personal to you in which you can easily subscribe to. Affirmations could include:

"I am a successful, hard working, and motivated businessman who people trust, respect and love doing business with."

"I am a loving father and husband who shows love, affection, and encouragement to my wife and children."

"I get excited and joyful when an opportunity arrives to help someone."

"I feel energized when a challenge presents itself because it is just one more success waiting to happen."

"My life is filled with an abundance of opportunities waiting to be acted upon."

"My mind and body are clean and healthy and I do something everyday to ensure this."

"I can do anything I set my mind to."

The most powerful statements are the ones that start with 'I am...' because you are declaring your ideal image of yourself, and your brain will start aligning itself with this image as if you've already become that person.

Sometimes affirmations don't feel like they fit, or we aren't living up to the expectation of the affirmation, and that is fine. If you are new to the idea behind positive affirmations, then it may feel like you are lying or tricking yourself into believing something that isn't true. Affirmations are not meant for lying to ourselves; their purpose is to enable the potential within us to fulfill the affirmations. Affirmations help fight the fear that holds us back from action.

Through affirmations, we consciously note the person we want to become, and we actively move in the direction naturally by programming our thoughts and beliefs. Simply thinking the affirmation does not have a positive effect until it is repeated, believed, and felt. This has the potential to be powerful. Start thinking of your subconscious brain as a programmable entity and you'll start aligning your thoughts and beliefs to promote feelings you want to experience.

Start Having Successful Beliefs

Personally, I strongly believe that men/women should have a life filled with creating - creating ideas or inventions, creating a better world, creating value for others, and creating a fulfilled life. In doing so, you leave your unique mark on the world.

I believe if you don't have the discipline to convert thought and beliefs into action, you are not living successfully. This belief pushes me and motivates me to produce something on a regular basis giving me feelings of accomplishment, satisfaction, and joy for fulfilling my belief. If I don't, I feel I am not living up to my potential. I don't even have to push myself anymore, I simply have the drive, urge, and need to create SOMETHING. This website is one outlet for this belief, and it is my attempt to create something that is timeless and challenges people's thought patterns, beliefs, and encourages them to live the life they can.

To start having successful beliefs, we need to start by recognizing the ones that hold us back, and as we noted, beliefs are not bound by logic. How can we pinpoint these harmful beliefs? We can do this by making goals and recognizing thoughts that arise when we aim big. We can do this by looking at our previous track record and discovering why we failed or succeeded. Sometimes other people have to tell us. And many times, recognizing a negative belief is as simple as listening to yourself every time you use the words 'I can't...'.

Eliminate these negative beliefs and start creating beliefs that motivate you to action, push you to succeed, remind you of your purpose, and fires up your confidence. The battlefield to success is not in the world, it's inside your head. Figure that out, and the world changes in front of you eyes.