#during which they could take photos that would pretty much be the only information they’d hve on why happened

[chewytongue]

Fixed this one in light of recent events

[nothorses]

Top Surgery Journal

I figured it was time to share my top surgery experiences, so folks can potentially learn from them! I'll be updating this as I have more to add.

For context, I am in the U.S. (specifically Washington state), and a legal adult. A lot of my process may not apply to everyone.

Getting Coverage

The first step to scheduling top surgery is getting insurance coverage for it. Talk to your insurance first to figure out if they do cover top surgery, and what you need to do in order to obtain coverage. Oftentimes it won't be listed officially on your plan, but you can get coverage as long as you can prove you need it.

I was lucky enough to have good insurance with trans healthcare included, so all I needed was a letter from my PCP, and a letter from a behavioral health counselor specializing in gender dysphoria. I didn't need any diagnoses, any specific length of time on HRT, any particular presentation, etc.

(If you live in Washington, state law requires that top surgery be fully covered under Medicare. It might be worth it to check your state's laws as well!)

Referrals

I tried to schedule with a surgeon myself, thinking it was my responsibility to get the documents sent over and everything, but my PCP actually referred me when I first told her I had gotten coverage from my insurance.

I ended up going with that referral because the other surgeon was so hard to get ahold of, but my PCP did also send a referral to the surgeon I'd chosen before. I recommend going through your PCP for referrals first, as it takes a lot of the workload off of you- and they'll likely write a referral anyway when sending the documents needed for coverage over.

You may also find that the surgeon you talk to has different requirements than your insurance before performing top surgery. A referral from your PCP might bypass these requirements, but be sure to call them yourself and double-check. Your surgeon's office is supposed to call you to schedule a consultation, and they may not call you at all if you don't have all of those documents in- which means you can be left in limbo indefinitely, not knowing you need to send them more than you already did.

The Consultation

I was able to get a consultation about 5 weeks after calling, which was great! The consultation is your opportunity to ask the surgeon any questions you have, for them to evaluate your chest and what methods might work for you, and for you to see their results (most surgeons do not post result photos online for privacy reasons).

Come into the consultation with all the questions you have written down somewhere, so you don't forget. I asked:

If I could see photographs of his top surgery results

Which incisions he thought would work for me, stressing the things that were important to me: minimal recovery time, no free nipple grafts (I wanted to keep mine, but without risking a failed graft), and minimal chance of needing revisions

What my recovery would look like for the recommended incisions

Whether I will be getting drains (ideally, yes: drains reduce recovery time and the risk of needing revisions)

If he's had patients who have had complications (failed grafts, infections, need for revisions, etc.) and what he's done to reduce the chances of that happening again

My surgeon's results looked good (scars were even and symmetrical, healed nicely, etc.) and he answered my questions really well, so I was happy to go with him!

He recommended the fishmouth method for me, because recovery time would be minimal, there would be no need for nipple grafts, and my chest was small enough for it to work really well.

Scheduling the Surgery

My surgeon didn't have a very long waitlist, but it still took about 3 weeks for the clinic to process my request with my insurance (yes, even though I already had coverage). Once they'd processed that, they called me with a window of time I could schedule within; after a few months, insurance would no longer cover the surgery.

I got an extension, as I was working an intense summer job that I couldn't really take a few weeks off of to recover, then scheduled my surgery over the phone. They asked if I wanted a pre-op appointment, and I declined, as it'd mostly be information covered in the consultation or that could be given to me over the phone.

Preparing for Surgery

I wasn't given a check-in time for the hospital until about 2pm the day before, but they finally did call me and give me some instructions, including:

My check-in time and place

The hospital's phone number, to give to my ride/caretaker in case they had questions

That I was not to bring visitors (cause covid)

To bring my ID, insurance card, and credit card

That I was not to eat or drink anything after 12am that night (I did drink a bit of water with my meds, which they seemed fine with)

To shower with antibacterial soap the night before, and the morning of the surgery

Not to wear hair or skin products like deoderant or gel

Not to wear any jewelry, or anything else removable that wasn't just a clothing item.

When I checked into the hospital, they had my fill out some paperwork including the name and number of my ride and caretaker (which could be the same or separate people; they called the ride number when it was time to pick me up, and the caretaker number with detailed updates on my progress). Then they had me change into the hospital gown and answer some medical history questions, prepped me with an IV, and had a nurse, both anesthesiologists involved in my surgery, and my surgeon check in with me for more information and to answer any last questions I had.

I was told to use the bathroom about 20 minutes before I would be going under for my surgery (to avoid needing a catheter), and once I did, they injected some anesthetic into my IV and I passed the fuck out.

After Surgery

I showed up to the hospital at about 9am, and the prepping ended around 11am. The surgery was scheduled to end at 2pm; I wasn't conscious until about 3pm.

They had me use the restroom again (I passed out on the floor of the bathroom because it was way too soon, lmao), and I was in and out of sleep until I finally used the bathroom on my own at about 5pm. At that point I was a lot more lucid; I had some toast and pudding, and the nurse called my caretaker to go over post-op instructions with us both.

After that I dressed myself, was wheeled out to pick up my pain meds at the in-hospital pharmacy, then hopped in the car with my ride (the wonderful @lillia-pad) at about 5:30pm.

Recovery

I have a pretty high tolerance for anesthetic, so I was mostly just tired during the 36-ish hours the anesthetic continued to wear off. I didn't experience any nausea or lightheadedness either, but I was given an anti-nausea patch behind my left ear, plus some anti-nausea meds, just in case.

My post-op regimen sort of looks like this:

Take 1-2 tablets of oxycodone every 4 hours (for pain)

Take 2 tablets of laxative meds twice a day (cause pain meds cause constipation)

Empty drains twice per day, and record how much was in them

Get up and walk around every couple of hours to reduce the risk of blood clots

Ease into eating again: start with clear fluids, and work up to crackers/bread/etc., to avoid nausea and vomiting.

Lay down propped up on plenty of pillows, and only on your back (no side-sleeping!)

Keep the compression binder/gauze on for the first 48 hours, then remove them to shower as needed (but put them back on after!)

I was pretty lucid by the third day post-surgery, and was able to scale my pain meds down pretty quickly from 2 tabs on the first day, to 1 tab for the next two days, to 1/2 tab. Meds are much more important at night, when there's nothing to distract you from the pain- don't be afraid to ration them for nighttime.

Oxycodone also definitely causes drowsiness, so I took a lot of "oxy naps" about 45-60 minutes after I took my meds, which last between 20 minutes and 2 hours depending on how tired I am.

I have my post-op this week, so I will update this post with more details on my scars and healing then!

[melzula]

The Promise

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: this was requested by an anon and yes, it’s based off of the comics

summary: with tensions rising in Yu Dao, Aang seeks the Princess’s help in an effort to sway Zuko in the right direction

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Aang’s heart is heavy with dread as he approaches the Southern Water Tribe for the first time since having left it nearly two years ago. Half constructed buildings peer out from the clouds, and as Appa nears closer to land the Avatar can see the statue of the south’s beloved leader. Her permanently etched smile does little to ease his nerves as he mulls over how he’s going to deliver the news to her, and though he hates to break his promise to Zuko he has found lately that some promises aren’t meant to be kept.

The moment the flying bison lands in the snow all the school children are quick to rush forward and excitedly crowd around the animal and the Avatar. In the distance you stand, a delighted smile on your face at the sight of your friend whom you immediately pull into a hug.

“Aang! It’s so good to see you again,” you exclaim before pulling out of the embrace. “Did you get taller?”

“I think so,” he chuckles sheepishly. “It’s nice to see you too, Princess. Or should I say Chief?”

“Please, Chief is only for formal occasions. You can still call me Princess if you’d like, just y/n will do too.”

“I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,” Aang admits earnestly. “I wish I could have helped.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Aang. It was my decision to keep Koa a secret so that I wouldn’t pull you and Zuko away from your obligations. And everything turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”

“I suppose it did, and I’m glad you’re alright. The South seems to be doing pretty well,” he notes with a faint smile, enjoying the way your eyes seem to light up at the mention of your home.

“We’ve already accomplished so much in just a short amount of time! The outer tribes are beginning to grow in number and our people have been mingling with those from our sister tribe. Oh, Aang, you have to meet my students! They’ve only been practicing for a few months but some of them have already passed the beginning level and-”

“That all sounds amazing, y/n,” the Avatar admits with a weak smile. However, his strong front doesn’t fool you in the slightest, and you immediately are able to detect that something is wrong, “but I didn’t come here for a friendly visit. There’s... There’s something we need to talk about. It’s about Zuko.”

He doesn’t miss the look that flashes briefly in your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, and though he can tell how anxious you are Aang admires your ability to remain poised and collected in front of your students.

“Let’s talk in my office,” you utter quietly, and after dismissing the children for the day you and Aang are quick to head inside for a private discussion about the matters at hand.

“I’m so sorry to have to barge in on you like this when you already have so much on your plate but I didn’t have a choice,” Aang explains gently.

“What’s going on Aang?” You ask uneasily, and the worried look on your face doesn’t make things any easier for him. After all you’ve done for him and your friends, he doesn’t have the heart to break yours.

“The night the Harmony Restoration Movement was announced I made two promises to Zuko. I promised him that if things began to get out of hand and history began to repeat itself, I would end his life before he could have the chance to become like his father. The world needs peace and balance, and we can’t have anyone jeopardizing that. You know I’m just a peaceful monk, I couldn’t even kill Ozai, but Zuko is my friend and it meant so much to him that I had no choice but to agree.”

“And the second promise?” You murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the information given to you. Horror and panic flash across your features and you feel nauseous, you feel as if you can’t breathe and the walls are closing in all around you, and a newfound sense of desperation washes over you.

“The second promise was not to tell you. Zuko knew that if you found out you’d delay your return home to try and talk him out of it, and his mind had already been up. He didn’t want to worry you-”

“Why are you telling me this now, Aang? What’s changed?” You interrupt, though you fear you already know the answer. The Avatar refuses to meet your gaze.

“Zuko has withdrawn from the Harmony Restoration Movement and refuses to compromise. If things don’t work themselves out soon I might have to fulfill my promise...”

The room is heavy with tension and deathly silent as you process the news Aang has given you. It doesn’t sound like Zuko at all, and this promise doesn’t sound like Aang either.

“Aang, you’re my friend and I love you. But if you choose to fulfill this promise of yours I’ll never be able to forgive you.”

“Trust me, y/n, I don’t want it to come to that. That’s why I’m here,” he says earnestly. “I’m telling you all of this because I want you to talk to Zuko. You’re the only person he’ll listen to, so maybe you can get through to him and this whole mess can be resolved.”

“Where is Zuko now?”

“The last I heard he’d locked himself away in the palace back at the Fire Nation.”

“Spirits, so much for an honest relationship,” you grumble quietly to yourself. A small, defeated sigh escapes you and you nod. “Alright. Let me get my affairs in order and then I’ll go talk to Zuko.”

“Thank you so much, Princess. I know how hard all of this must be for you, and I wish there was another way but-”

“It isn’t your fault, Aang. At least not entirely. You only did what Zuko asked you to in respect of your friendship, and now in respect of our friendship I ask that you allow me to sway him in the right direction before any decisions are made.”

“Yes, of course,” he nods earnestly, and sensing that you need a moment to yourself, the Avatar excuses himself. “I’ll go make sure Appa is ready for the trip. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding leaves you the moment the door shuts behind Aang, and it takes all of your will power to keep your rising tears at bay. To think that Zuko had gone to the extreme to reassure himself of the fact that he’d never repeat his family’s footsteps broke your heart; Zuko was nowhere close to being the cruel man Ozai had been, and you thought he was past this by now. You were worried about him and how he must be feeling, but you also felt it to be unfair of him to keep such a thing from you. He had been so distraught when he had learned about Koa and after that you had both sworn to tell each other everything no matter what, yet now it seemed Zuko had no intention of keeping that promise to you. Promise. It seemed like such a heavily loaded word now, and you were beginning to resent it entirely. You couldn’t wait another minute, you had to see Zuko.

It takes you no longer than an hour to get your affairs in order— Hakoda and your mother are left in charge to oversee the tribe while you’re away, and Pakku is to continue lessons without your presence. You pack your bag and join Aang on Appa’s saddle, and with the quick utterance of the phrase yip yip the two of you are riding high into the skies and making your way towards the Fire Nation.

The wind blowing through your hair is a bittersweet reminder of your days fighting the war alongside your friends; you had once believed that things would be simpler after the Fire Nation’s defeat, but so far nothing had seemed to be any easier than you had hoped it would be. You wished they were here now, you could really use some reassurance from Sokka or Suki, and you know Katara would probably have just the right thing to say to ease your nerves. Instead, the ride is silent and tense as you journey to see Zuko.

In the throne room sits the Fire Lord, tense and distracted by the millions of thoughts that whiz by in his head. He knew he was making the right decision by allowing his people to remain in Yu Dao, he was their ruler and it was his duty to look after their best interests, and backing out from the Harmony Restoration Movement would prevent the disruption of the peaceful lives they’d created for themselves there. Seeing the Mayor’s family, their daughter born of both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom heritage, it allowed him to see his own future, one in which he selfishly realized what the movement would mean not only for his people but for himself.

Your portrait sits in his lap, face poised and stoic yet with a hint of a smile on your face, and it is this portrait that brings him solace and comfort during his time of turmoil. He’d purchased the photo from a vendor back in the South during the celebration of your coronation, and looking at it now he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Everything had become such a mess and all he wanted was your comfort; you were busy rebuilding a tribe, and after Zuko had made such a fuss about maintaining honesty between you two he felt foolish to try and tell you now. Surely you’d leave him for it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand that heartache. Not again.

A knock on the door rips his attention away from your portrait and an immediate scowl forms on his features. He’d made it specifically clear that he didn’t want any visitors and was to be left undisturbed. Where were the Kyoshi Warriors to keep away the arrivals?

“I will see no one,” Zuko bellows, shoulders tensing when the door slowly begins to open despite his proclamation. However, when his eyes take in the sight of his beloved the Fire Lord does a double take before immediately relaxing at the presence of his Princess.

“Will the Fire Lord make an exception for me?” You ask with a meek smile, carefully shutting the doors behind you

“Y/n!” Zuko exclaims before scrambling out of his seat and rushing towards you. You can’t help the delighted laugh that leaves you when Zuko lifts your figure off the ground and holds you impossibly close to his chest. Tears well in his eyes as he nestles his face into your shoulder and breathes in the scent of fire lilies and snow.

“It’s nice to know you’ve missed me,” you giggle softly, though your smile fades once Zuko sets you back on the ground and you’re able to see his face. Carefully you rest a hand upon his face, Zuko immediately melting into your touch. “My love, you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“How can you tell?” Zuko asks with quiet surprise.

“I can see the restlessness and turmoil in your eyes. You’re troubled.”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffs quietly. You frown.

“What’s going on with you, Zuko? Aang told me you backed out of the Harmony Restoration Movement.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The Fire Lord replies, a harsh edge suddenly coating his tone. “Just to talk me back into it??”

“I’m here because I’m worried about my boyfriend,” you emphasize, and you don’t miss the look of guilt that flash’s across Zuko’s face for snapping at you. Quieter now, “Aang told me about the promise he made to you. I want to hear your side of the story, and I want to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t go that far.”

Zuko is silent for a moment, and after a beat passes he nods. No more secrets, it’s time to tell you everything.

You end up in the palace gardens by the pond, loaves of bread in your hands as you enjoy the breeze and feed the turtle ducks. The Kyoshi Warriors stand in the distance to guard you both, and Suki gives you a quiet nod when your eyes meet across the way. You wanted to give Zuko a comforting atmosphere where he could feel safe to talk, the tone of the throne room was a bit too intense for the both of you, and after recalling stories he had told you of his mother you figured this was the perfect spot to do so. It takes him time to gather his thoughts and process his emotions, but you wait patiently until he’s ready.

“I want to start by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew you’d worry and drop everything to try and talk me out of something I’d already decided, and I didn’t want to take you away from your people, not again,” Zuko explains quietly. “But my family, selfishness and destruction runs in our blood, and I needed to make sure that I’d never make the same mistakes they did.”

“Zuko,” you utter gently, your hand coming to rest upon his bicep, “you are nothing like your father or your grandfather. You’re a good person, you’ve already proven this time and time again. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve also made changes, good changes.”

“I can’t make any more mistakes, y/n. That’s why Aang is there to stop me. But backing out of the Harmony Restoration Movement is not a mistake.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?” You repeat in bewilderment. “I-I don’t understand.”

“I had the chance to visit Yu Dao and see what my people had created, the life they spent generations building for themselves. As Fire Lord it’s my job to make sure my people are happy, and they are happy— coinciding with earth kingdom citizens. You should have seen it, y/n. Best friends, business partners, families made up of two different nations. I know Aang believes there can’t be any harmony unless the four nations are separate, but Yu Dao proves that that’s not true, and so do we.”

“The mayor’s wife of Yu Dao invited me to stay with them, her an earth bender and her husband a fire bender. They had a daughter and together they were a beautiful family. And do you know what I saw when I was with them?”

“What did you see?” You ask quietly, your eyes welling with tears as you hang onto Zuko’s every word.

“I saw us. I saw you cradling a baby in your arms while you sat in the gardens and watched the older children play. It was peaceful, and even though the odds have always been against us it didn’t matter that the mother of our children was of the Water Tribe and the father was of the Fire nation. All that mattered in that moment was our family. A family that can’t exist if we keep the four nations separate,” Zuko emphasizes desperately. “If it’s selfish of me to base my decision on my own desires then I’ll take the hit, but I’d rather die than ever have to be kept away from you simply because we’re different.”

Zuko’s eyes have grown wide and his shoulders rise and fall with each anxious breath he takes as he gauges your reaction. You’re silent for a long while, your own gaze settled upon the pond as you watch the mother turtle duck look after her ducklings. You wanted to be a mother some day, and you’d be lying if you said you could picture yourself being with anyone other than Zuko. He was it for you, the only person you’d ever want to be with, and no one had any right to tell you otherwise.

“Zuko,” you say quietly, lifting your gaze to stare into his golden irises, “you’re absolutely right.”

“I-I am?” He splutters in response, surprised at the fact that he’s truly in the right for once. He’s always relied on you as a moral compass, so to hear that you agree with him is a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“You are,” you reaffirm. “How can you have peace if everyone is expected to keep to themselves? That’s not harmony at all. It’s isolating and it’s lonely and it’s sad. Those families shouldn’t be separated, and you need to do whatever you can to keep them together.”

“I will,” Zuko nods quickly. “Will you help me?”

“I’m on your side Zuko, but I can’t fight my friends,” you lament gently. “I’ll try to reason with Aang, and if it comes down to it I’ll stop him from fulfilling his promise to you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to remain neutral.”

“I understand,” he murmurs gently. He takes your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for hearing my side and having my back.”

“I always will, Zuko. You’ll never have to worry about that,” you reply, smiling as he pulls you into a tight hug. Despite the conflict going on between your boyfriend and your friends, you have a feeling that everything is going to work itself out. It has to. It must.

And it will.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @simpinforsukka @sirkekselord @protect-remus @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @draqondance @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster @noodlesfluffy @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch |

[mianavs]

Ameliorate

Your life was always a dark abyss until Matsukawa came in and made everything better

Matsukawa x f!reader

a/n: hands down the most difficult piece I’ve worked on but it’s finally done. not sure how i feel about it but i hope you all enjoy it anyway! kind of a slow burn fyi

tw: smut, oral (f!reader receiving), heavy angst, mentions of death/grieving

wc: 5.8k

It was a call you didn’t want to take. You were at work going over some accounts when the screen of your cell came to life and angrily vibrated on your desk. Sighing, you reached over to swipe on the red phone icon but the caller id caught your eye leaving you stunned.

[Mother]

You almost missed the call, lost in the negative emotions that the title unburied from the dark recesses of your mind. On impulse, you answered last minute and took a deep breath before you spoke to your mother for the first time since you left home four years ago. In the second it took for your mother to speak, you held out for an apology but instead received the news that your father had passed away the night before.

You exchanged few words with your mother, who was as frigid as ever, but nonetheless agreed to return home for the funeral. After informing your supervisor and taking off the rest of the week, you collected your things to leave only to be bombarded by your coworkers offering their condolences. You accepted their sincerity but felt nothing except for a queer emptiness.

Upon reaching the ground floor of the building, the elevator doors opened and a familiar voice caught your attention. You looked up to face your ex-fiancé speaking animatedly on the phone—until he saw you and his smile faltered.

It had been a mutual decision. After two years of dating, he’d wanted marriage and you—well, you weren’t sure what you wanted but marriage sure wasn’t it. The last you’d heard he had gotten married to some girl from HR and he looked happy. You plastered a smile on your face and greeted him with a nod before heading out.

At least one of you was happy.

On the train to Miyagi, memories of your parents occupied your thoughts. Your relationship them had always been strained. As the only child of a prestigious university professor and a retired news anchor turned housewife, they expected a lot from you academically and socially. Throughout your childhood, you struggled under the immense pressure they placed and you , more often than not, disappointed them.

It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to be their perfect daughter, you always fell short and got reproached accordingly. Your above average grades were never good enough. Your clumsiness and constant slouch made you unladylike, and your awkward mumbled speech was shameful. No matter what you did, the scrutiny never stopped and your imperfections only worsened over time. Your grades fell, you avoided going out with your parents to social events, and you spoke very little to your parents.

A quiet girl with no self-esteem, you started high school at Aoba Josai and everything changed when you met Matsukawa Issei. He approached you first during homeroom on your first day of school and never stopped talking to you from then on. He was patient and kind with you but also pushed you to get out of you shell. Before you knew it, he became your best friend and the two of you spent all of your free time together.

Issei’s friendship raised you up in many forms. Your grades increased after all those study sessions with him and Hanamaki. You stopped looking down at your shoes and found that the sky was much nicer to look at. You laughed, yelled, cried, and talked to Issei about anything and everything.

The change had been so sudden that even your parents noticed and treated you better. They stopped criticizing your every movement and that did wonders to your confidence. While the relationship between you and your parents slightly improved, your relationship with Issei bloomed like the cherry blossoms that fell on the day he confessed to you. For the first time in your life, you were truly happy until everything shattered when your parents found out about you and Issei.

You were reckless with the lies you told your parents to sneak out and see Issei. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of your boyfriend that you hadn’t noticed your parents had been awake when you snuck out at night. That night your parents caught you outside on a park bench with Issei’s head on your lap. As a result, you were confined to your room for a week with your mother becoming your personal jailer and after getting a taste of love and freedom—you refused to go back to being that insecure girl.

You rebelled against your parents. You got into screaming matches with your mother and argued with your father. The worst part of it all was the guilt that you felt after you’d yell at your mother or insulted your father. In that moment, you’d see the hurt in their eyes and the hesitation before they sent you to your room. You hated those looks because it proved that they too had feelings and you were capable of hurting them just like they’d hurt you.

Until you graduated, you lived like a ghost in your own home avoiding your parents as much as you could. You filled the emptiness you felt with Issei, who became your whole world. You went to all of his volleyball matches, he picked you up after work, and you spent most of your time at his house and with his family. The two of you planned a future together during your first year at college in Yokohama until the news of your mother falling ill sent you back home.

“Now arriving at Tokyo station”

The announcement interrupted your musings and you pulled out your phone to distract yourself from the bustle of people exiting the train. You scrolled through your social media page until a rare post from an old friend caught your attention. Oikawa had uploaded a photo of a historic site in Argentina and you found yourself searching for Issei’s name among the thousands of likes and comments. While Issei’s name hadn’t popped up, Hanamaki’s did and you clicked on his profile thoughtlessly. It didn’t take much digging on your behalf to find what you were looking for.

Only a couple of posts down was a photo of Hanamaki and Issei from a year ago at a restaurant you would recognize anywhere—after all, you’d worked there for two years. You couldn’t help but admire how good they looked. You memorized every detail of Issei’s face before a thought crossed your mind and your finger hovered over the screen.

A tap on the photo revealed Issei’s account and you hesitated to wonder if stalking your ex-boyfriend’s social media was the right move before you tapped on his username anyway and his profile opened up. It was on private to your dismay but his account picture showed you more than enough. It was one of Issei with one arm swung over a pretty woman’s shoulder. Shutting off your phone, you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care but the tightness in your chest proved otherwise.

Gazing out the window at the rural towns the train passed reminded you of your father and his love for the countryside. You hated to admit it but, after living in the city for three years, you came to share the same sentiments as your father.

After returning home following the news of your mother’s illness, your father moved the family to rural Miyagi believing the fresh country air would do her good. Moving back with your parents wasn’t as difficult as you’d feared after leaving everything behind. Your mother still nagged you over everything but not as cruelly and would occasionally compliment your cooking when you fed her.

It was the relationship with your father, however, that changed the most which was why his deception hurt you the most. Your father was the one that helped you transfer to the university he taught at. The two of you always left for school together and conversations about school eventually filled the quiet void during those hour-long train rides to Sendai. Your conversations became personal at night over tea or sake and, in those moments, you felt as if you could forgive your parents and develop a relationship with them.

You should have been more suspicious about your mother’s condition. Whenever you asked your father about it, you’d attributed his wavering gaze to concern over your mother. The improved relationship between you and your parents distracted you from the unchanging condition of your mother despite constant medication and hospital visits. It never crossed your mind that the sickness had only been a ploy to guilt you into coming back to Miyagi so your parents could resume molding their matured daughter into what they wanted.

You found out by chance while listening in to a conversation amongst them but that was all it took to turn your newfound affection for your parents into resentment. For the entirety of the confrontation, you bit back tears when their reactions confirmed everything had been made up. After packing up your things and disowning your parents, you left home vowing never to come back.

“Now arriving at Sendai station”

The long drive to your childhood home did nothing to prepare you for the meeting with your mother. She looked tired and beat down; a sharp contrast to the strong woman she used to be.

“You look awful,” She chided, eyeing you with her sharp gaze. “You’re thin and sickly.”

“So are you.” Your retort was immediate and thoughtless but it shut your mother up. After a moment of deafening silence, she offered to help you with your bag but you declined.

“Come downstairs after you unpack. Dinner is almost ready.” With that, your mother left to the kitchen.

You were surprised to find your room in the same state it had been when you left for college. Palming through your old notebooks, opening your drawers to sift through old clothes, and collapsing on your bed to bury your nose in the sheets made you miss the simpler days of high school.

In the end, you were too distracted by your room to unpack but made sure to wash up before heading down to dinner—a habit your mother instilled in you and returned after only being in the house for twenty minutes. You also took your usual spot across your mother while the chair that your father had once sat in stood bare at the head of the table. The empty spot was disconcerting but your eyes remained fixed on the chair while your mind worked to restore the image of your father on it. Your trancelike state stopped when your mother cleared her throat.

“The wake will be tomorrow morning so ready by nine.”

“Do I need to do anything?”

“A small speech is expected of you.” She stated and left no room for argument. “There will also be familiar faces so behave accordingly.”

The meaning behind your mother’s warning dawned on you when the two of you entered the funeral home and were greeted by the one familiar face you didn’t expect to see—Issei.

If he was surprised to see you, he didn’t show it and was all business when he addressed your mother. Your shock only increased when your mother didn’t go off on Issei and instead treated him like an actual human.

When his sharp gaze shifted to your form, the air around you seemed to thicken and breathing became impossible. Standing in front of Issei took you back in time to those days when Issei would wait for you in the mornings to walk to school. You could have lost yourself in his eyes but the purpose of your return tore your eyes away and you bowed in greeting, not trusting your voice. He bowed as well and offered his condolences before turning to your mother and discussing the schedule and other details as they walked into the building with you in tow.

The discomfort you felt during the service increased tenfold with the arrival of the guests. Former colleagues of your father, friends of your mother, and neighbors crowded the small funeral home and they all had their eyes on you. The condolences, hugs, and pats left you suffocated and desensitized. Before long, their words fused together into a clangor that left you disoriented. You thought you were going to pass out until a former professor of yours asked a question that destroyed whatever remained of your composure.

“…so when did they find out the tumor was malignant?”

Tumor?

Malignant?

Your overwhelmed brain pieced together the information until you understood what had caused your father’s death—cancer. In that moment, everything ceased to exist and there was only you and your thoughts. Your blood ran cold and all of your limbs went numb. While your mouth hung open, not a syllable fell from your lips. As opposed to your frozen body, your mind raced and a whirlwind of emotions wreaked havoc on your being. When you came to terms with the fact that you hadn’t known your father’s cause of death, a strangled cry escaped your mouth and you darted out of the room.

The urge to leave and never return overcame all logic but, before you could make it out the door, a pair of large warm hands clasped your shoulders, gently stopping you dead in your tracks. The faint smell of cologne and musk hit you and you knew it was Issei before you looked up.

Warmth radiated from every part of his body and all you wanted was to bury yourself into him and hide from the world. His eyes widened slightly before he looked around and guided you away into a small room away from the guests. There was a sofa that he led you too and sat down next to you. Suddenly, Issei’s hands were on your cheeks wiping away tears you didn’t know where there.

“God…I’m a fucking mess.” You cursed and buried your face into your hands.

“Funerals are…difficult,” Issei offered. “Trust me, I work here.”

“I didn’t know,” you muttered raising your head. “I didn’t even know how my father died. I never asked my mother and she never told me. She just told me he died and I took a train here without thinking.”

“Everyone processes death differently, Y/N.”

“Fuck, Issei—I’m his only daughter for crying out loud!” Your voice broke as a fresh set of tears threatened to spill. “We’ve never had a stable relationship…but still, what kind of a daughter doesn’t know the cause of death of her own father? I just feel like I’m suffocating and I-I…”

Sobs tore out of your chest inhibiting you from speaking and Issei didn’t hesitate to envelop you in his strong arms that rocked you while he whispered calming reassurances in your ear.

“Shhh…it’s okay.”

“Everything will be fine.”

“This will pass.”

Your cries eventually ceased but neither of you let go. It felt easy to cling onto Issei while he held you just as tightly. The return of your wits, however, brought you back to reality and you let him go knowing it wasn’t right to cling onto anyone’s boyfriend—even if he’d been your friend before he’d been your boyfriend.

“Thank you, Issei. I should really head back now.”

Issei’s grip loosened slowly until he faced you with his thick brows knitted with concern. You smiled hoping it was convincing enough to reassure him before the two of you stood up and left the room. Near the entrance of the hall stood your mother angrily pacing back and forth until she saw you and Issei and opened her mouth to speak but stopped. You decided to speak first before she misunderstood the situation.

“I needed some space to calm down and Issei helped me find a place.”

Her piercing eyes took you in and lingered on your eyes; they were no doubt red and puffy from crying. The anger seemed to dissipate and her shoulder’s relaxed before she finally addressed you.

“It’s time for your speech. Are you ready?”

Coming from the woman that never asked you anything, her question caught you off guard but stirred something in you. You answered by nodding and followed your mother into the packed hall and up to the front where your father lied in his coffin. You stood to the side while your mother addressed the guests and you looked at your father for the first time in years.

The sight should have made you feel anything but the relief that washed over you. He looked at peace and it reminded you of the rare glimpses you’d caught of him talking with his students, fishing in the small pond of your country home, or drinking sake at night. It was with those memories that you replaced your mother and spoke to the guests.

You were composed for the entire speech despite your distraught state only minutes prior. It felt like a blanket of serenity had wrapped itself over your shoulders and shielded you from any remaining guilt. In the end, you wished your father well not because you forgave him but because you wanted to close that chapter in your book.

The rest of the ceremony was easier to stomach without the turmoil in your head. After the last guest left, you and your mother spoke to Issei and his boss about last minute details for the funeral the next day. Your mother offered a brisk thanks before heading out first and Issei’s boss followed, leaving you and your ex alone. The desire to ask him for his contact info was immense, but your better judgement won and you offered him a quick thanks before following your mother.

Very little words were exchanged with your mother that night and you headed up to bed completely drained from the day’s events. You’d just finished hanging up your mourning clothes when your mother knocked on the door and waited until you let her in—something she never did.

Still in her mourning gown, she held out a letter addressed to you from your father and seeing her up close, you noticed the wet cheeks and puffy red skin around her eyes. In all the years you lived with your mother, you had never seen her cry. Crying out hysterically? Yes. Witnessing actual tears or the evidence of tears on her face, however, not even once. Which was why you stood stunned as your mother placed the letter in your hand before leaving you to your privacy.

You tore open the sealed envelope and opened the letter to see that it was dated one year ago.

{Daughter,

If you are reading this, it is because I am no longer on this earth. As the disease weakens my body, I know that I will never see you again and write this to convey everything that I could not in life. I am well-aware that I lost the right to your forgiveness and I do not wish to receive it. Nothing will ever justify my actions towards you. I failed you as a father and caused you to grow up in a miserable home. I held you to expectations that not even I could achieve and I will regret the pain and suffering I caused you until my last breath.

I remember the day your mother brought you into this world. When I saw your frail little body and held you in my arms for the first time, I was struck with an immeasurable amount of fear. I was terrified of being a father and didn’t want you to suffer the way I did. I wanted to prepare you for the world in the way my parents never did for me. However, in the end, my own selfish desires to re-live my life through you tainted whatever intentions I’d had. I will never forgive myself for the irreparable damage I caused you therefore I ask that you do the same.

I wish to end this message by expressing how proud I am of the strong woman you’ve become. Everything you’ve accomplished is derived of your own merits and in spite of the suffering I caused you. Your mother and I are happy to hear of your successes and wish you happiness in your married life. I know you will live a long and happy life because you are not like me. You’re a fighter. You know what you want and take it without regrets.

With this, I hope that you will continue to grow and forget me as I am undeserving of living in your thoughts.}

What began as tears trailing down your cheeks, ended up as wails mourning your father. The proud man that you knew him to be in life came undone in that short letter and every word pierced your heart. In a manner reminiscent of the past, you disobeyed his requests and genuinely forgave your father while engraving each of his words into your heart.

The urge to see your mother led you to tuck away the letter and open the door only to find her already there. Muffling her sobs with her hands, her whole body shook as she gazed up at you. The fragility of her state stirred your compassion and your arms wrapped around her. Collapsing onto the ground, the two of you clung to each other and truly mourned the death of your father.

You woke up enveloped in motherly warmth like you were an infant again. Her eyes that once scrutinized your every move, were softer now as she talked about your father’s last days over breakfast. The hand that had disciplined you in the past now held yours during the Buddhist priest’s chant at the funeral. The circumstances were wretched but you finally felt at peace with your parents.

The funeral and cremation passed with you and your mother holding each other up. As the two of you jointly picked up the bone fragments with chopsticks and placed them in the urn, you came to terms with the fact that the relationship with your mother would never go back to what it was. A sense of filial duty stirred within you for the first time in a while only it wasn’t out of guilt—this time, you genuinely wanted to take care of your mother.

You found yourself outside of the crematorium waiting for your mother to settle things when Issei walked up to you. He’d been at the funeral ceremony, of course, but the crematorium wasn’t a part of his duties so you were surprised to see him. He still wore his black slacks and matching button down but his tie was nowhere to be seen and he’d undone the top two buttons of his shirt.

He began by inquiring about the cremation to make sure everything had gone well. You assured him everything went well before an awkward silence pervaded the space between. Desperate to fill the void with anything, you asked Issei a question only to find him simultaneously asking you one.

“Talked to Hana—”

“How long are yo—”

Your face flushed and Issei rubbed the back of his head as the two of you apologized for interrupting each other.

“You go first,” Issei gently insisted.

“I was going to ask if you’d talked to Hanamaki lately. I saw that you two went out…” The implication of your words caused you to clamp your mouth shut while your face burned even more.

“You saw…us?” Issei sounded amused and you looked up to find that same smirk from six years ago that produced butterflies in your stomach.

“Er…yeah,” you admitted. “I kinda found Hanamaki’s social media and happened a picture of you two.”

“Oh, that picture. That was the last time I saw him since he lives in Tokyo now. We still text though.”

“So Tokyo, huh? Good for Hanamaki.”

“What about you?” Issei asked, his eyes more intense than before. “Your mother mentioned you live in the city.”

“Uh yeah,” You said fidgeting with the material of your kimono. “I live in Yokohama. Got a job offer after graduation and I’ve been there ever since.”

“…Are you going back now?”

Issei avoided your eyes by looking away—an old habit you instantly recognized. Like the old days, you moved in the direction of his face and stood on your tippy toes with a cheeky grin on your face. Surprise flashed on his eyes before his mouth broke into a fond smile.

“I’m staying for a couple more days.” You replied and the next word flowed out naturally like water in a stream. “Why?”

“I wanted to catch up with you.” He admitted before his expression sobered. “Only if you’re up for it though. I don’t want you to feel like—”

“I’d love to catch up!”

And with that, the two of you exchanged contact information before your mother approached you. As you watched Issei walk away, you mother piped up next to you.

“He’s a good man. I regret not seeing it before.” It wasn’t exactly an apology but the effect was the same to you.

“And I regret letting him go,” you lamented.

“You still have a chance.” She replied and you met her gaze.

“I don’t. He has a girlfriend.”

“Then why did I overhear his boss trying to set him up on a date with his niece?” Your mother countered and then started to walk towards the newly arrived taxi.

“Wait, what?!”

Heeding your mother’s advice, you dressed up for your meeting with Issei. He picked you up and the first thing you noticed was the similar colored clothing the two of you wore. Laughing it off, you got into his car and made small talk about the changes in town while on route to the restaurant.

The conversation gave you the perfect excuse to admire him at ease. Issei had always been handsome but you had to admit that he’d really grown into his looks. Any lingering teenage awkwardness was gone and replaced by an air of confidence that he exuded in his speech, mannerisms, and voice. From his defined jaw to the protruding veins on his exposed forearm, you memorized each detail and replaced the memory you had of college freshman Issei with it.

Issei took you to the same restaurant you spent most of your evenings in during high school waiting tables and chatting with the volleyball team after closing time. Unlike the rest of the town, the tables, chairs, and décor remained the same and you were overcome with emotion the moment you walked in. After chatting with the owner for a bit, Issei led you to the table the boys would always take after practice to wait until you got off work.

“I can’t believe this place remained the same after all these years.” You commented after placing your orders.

“I know,” Issei replied grinning. “I can’t imagine this town without it.”

“Just sitting here brings back so many memories of us…” you trailed off when you noticed Issei’s unwavering gaze on you.

“Ah! And the boys too!” You added letting out a nervous giggle before taking a sip of your beer to cool your heated head. “How are they, by the way? I’ve seen Oikawa’s posts of Argentina but what about Iwaizumi?”

The conversation about the whereabouts of the volleyball team lasted until the food arrived. You asked about his family in between bites and Issei answered each of your questions about his siblings and parents.

After finishing your meal and ordering a second round of drinks the conversation switched over to work with Issei eager to find out what you did.

“Financing! Can you believe it?” You laughed. “Specifically, in the mortgage department.”

“Seriously?” Issei chuckled. “Whatever happened to being a novelist?”

“Life happened.” You answered and raised your glass in a mock toast.

“Ah, trust me. I completely understand.” He clinked his glass against yours and the two of you laughed before taking a sip.

After finishing your second beer, the warmth in your cheeks and your animated speech were all clear signs you were buzzed. It wasn’t until you asked the question on your mind since you’d seen that picture that you realized just how buzzed you actually were.

“So…are you seeing anyone?” Your eyes were lowered, but when Issei didn’t respond you looked up.

Issei’s eyes were darker than they’d been. The intensity of his gaze locked your eyes on his leaving you vulnerable. You were suddenly keenly aware how intensely your heart was beating and wondered if Issei could hear it.

“Why do you ask?”

His strained voice sent chills down your spine making you painfully aware of the building tension in your core. You knew what you wanted and you suspected he wanted the same thing but you needed to confirm your suspicions.

“I saw your social media account and the picture you used. The one where you’re hugging a woman…smiling…”

The more words that spilled out, the more pathetic you sounded and you eventually trailed off while averting your eyes.

“We broke up about a year ago.”

“What?!” The word slipped through your lips when your eyes snapped back to see him sheepishly running a hand through his wavy black locks.

“We wanted different things. I felt like I was holding her back so I let her go.”

“I completely understand,” echoing his words, your hand reached across the table to his. “My engagement got cancelled for similar reasons. He wanted marriage sooner than later and I wasn’t ready.”

The two of you shared a moment when, out of the blue, Issei took ahold of your hand and used his thumb to run slow circles on your palm; a gesture he’d always used to signal he wanted to be alone with you. Your breath hitched and a lazy smirk graced his face as he lifted your wrist and pressed a kiss on your pulse point.

“I-Issei,” you gasped and darted your eyes around the room to ensure no one had seen.

“Let’s get out of here. Come to my place.”

His voice was like honey to your ears and you nodded as the tension that’d been building spread to other parts of your body. With that the bill was settled and Issei drove you to his place while keeping a hand on your inner thigh that would occasionally drift and tease your clit.

By the time the two of you made it inside his home, Issei’s tongue had tasted every part of your mouth while his lips left yours swollen. Flushed and whimpering, Issei planted wet butterfly kisses down your jaw until he reached that spot on your neck that elicited a moan from your parted lips.

Issei groaned before sucking on that spot and you to pulled him closer by tugging on his hair—a move you knew drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” his warm breath fanned on your neck. “Fuck—not here.”

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You pulled his lips into another wet kiss that had him groaning into your mouth as his erection pressed against your soaked panties. He set you down on his bed and broke the kiss that left the two of you panting.

His hungry gaze traveled all over your body. Your dress was hiked up and he could make out the darkened material of your panties—the proof of your arousal. With a groan his stripped out of his shirt letting you take in his broad chest that you ached to touch. Grinning from your cute reaction he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snaking his arm behind your waist and laying you down on this middle of his bed. You reached for his clothed erection but Issei gripped your hand and placed it over your head.

“Not yet, pretty girl. Let me spoil you today.”

Issei’s skilled hands worked on your dress and slipped it off you followed by your bra and panties. His eyes raked over your body taking in the flushed skin, erect nipples, and trembling legs.

“Beautiful,” he murmured and leaned over to lick and suck on your sensitive peaks. Each flick against a nipple had you gasping. Each bite had you arching your back. The longer he teased, the more desperate your need to be touched and filled became until you took his hand and placed it between your legs.

“T-touch, me Issei, p-please...”

“That’s my needy girl,” he cooed and pressed one last kiss to your chest before settling between your legs and admiring the way your dribbling cunt clenched around nothing. “Such a pretty cunt.”

He flattened his tongue on your throbbing clit sending shocks of pleasure up your body. Issei’s mouth that alternated between sucking and biting down on your clit had you in tears from the immense pleasure and you lost count of how many times you came on his face. When his tongue delved into your aching cunt, you rutted against his face to push his tongue in deeper.

“Nghhh—Isseiiiii! Need y’now, please!”

Issei’s head rose from between you legs and just sight of his face covered in your arousal had your cunt pulsing again.

“What was that baby?” He teased and licked the translucent substance off his lips. His hands began to work on his pants and your eyes greedily took in his tented underwear. “Is this what you want, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes! Need it!”

It’d been so long since you’d been with a guy let alone one of Issei’s size. In fact, you were certain Issei was the biggest you’d ever had. That being said, the sight of his erect cock had you whimpering from both apprehension and desire.

Issei, always so attentive, noticed your reaction and settled himself on top before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips and assuring you he’d be gentle. You nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck while he rubbed his cock between your folds and against your clit in the way he’d always done before filling you.

Once your slick coated his cock, he lined himself at your entrance and slowly sheathed himself into you. The stretch was still painful even with the prep but as soon as he was halfway in, your walls relaxed and pain turned into pleasure. After bottoming out, Issei waited for your cunt to relax around him before he started moving.

With each thrust, Issei hit that spot near your cervix that built up your release time and time again. Every time your walls fluttered and your cum coated his cock, your nails raked over his back and Issei’s groans filled your ears until he too found his release. The two of you were insatiable and continued your lovemaking until the early hours of the morning.

In the end, you stayed the night and woke up mid-day with your head against Issei’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. Listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest convinced you of the thought you’d mulled over since your father’s funeral.

You wouldn’t return to Yokohama.

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl - Two

Summary: In which Flip struggles with his feelings for the reader, and his emotions hit the breaking point when she is threatened. 

Warnings: Swearing, suggestion of slur (not written), masturbation, violence, angry Flip, sexism. WC- 3,030

A/N- I rewrote this chapter a few times to get it just right, I really wanted to convey the struggle Flip is having. Feedback is appreciated! 

It was late October, the chill in the air crisp as the apple cider (Y/N) had brewed and brought in to the station, using a hot plate to keep it warm. It filled the whole building with the scent, which was a pleasant upgrade from the usual mix of cigarette smoke and body odour and leather. She had even commissioned the local elementary school to draw autumn-themed pictures for decoration. As a way to boost morale and community engagement, she proudly displayed them in the lobby for everyone to admire when they came to and from the station.

Flip had teased her when he found her one morning, standing on a chair to tape the photos up. Now slightly taller than him, she turned with care and playfully glared down at him.

“One more word, detective, and I’ll be assigning you to take over the job,” she threatened, then added, “I should have done that in the first place, actually. You don’t even need the chair.”  

He laughed loudly, “Apologies, I know it’s not your fault you’re so-“

“Seriously, don’t finish that sentence, Flip!” She giggled, her hand reaching out and ruffling his hair. Before Flip could react fully to the sensation of it, she was shooing him away and chastising him for distracting her. She grinned as he retreated, his hands in the air in surrender.

However, he had spent the rest of that day replaying the feel of her hand on his head.

Although neither of them had discussed it, it had become a routine for Flip to give (Y/N) rides to and from work regularly. They both enjoyed each other's company, their friendship solidifying, and it wasn’t like he had to go out of his way. To thank him, (Y/N) insisted on bringing him breakfast. Fried egg sandwiches and a hot dark roast coffee were handed to him every morning. Along with her endearing ability to make him smile, Flip was more than satisfied with the arrangement.  

If their colleagues at the CSPD noticed the closeness developing between Flip and (Y/N), none remarked on it initially to either of them. Secretly, many of the detectives who knew Flip were beyond grateful for the friendship, as it brought out a side of him that they would all agree, if asked, was more tolerable and likeable to his usual angry demeanour.

It wasn’t until a young rookie officer had spotted them arrive one morning a few weeks after Flip had started driving in with (Y/N), that the rest of the station came to learn the relationship was more important to him than he let on. His rare show of emotions the indication that alerted them.    

The rookie had met up with Flip in the bullpen, loudly inquiring as to whether he was banging the hot new secretary, a cocky grin on his face, expecting perhaps a joking reply, or scandalous gossip.

For most of the detectives in the room that knew Flip, a collective intake of their breath and exchange of weary glances took place. They had watched apprehensively as he had turned to Caruthers, a glare that defined to term, ‘if looks could kill’ marring his handsome features. Flip then knocked the coffee out of Caruthers's hands and jabbed him in the chest as he had shouted. The rookie had nearly pissed himself, apologizing profusely before running off. Flip had then glared around the room, daring anyone else to suggest such a thing, but no one was stupid enough, and those who Flip worked closely with were better men than the likes of Caruthers.

As Flip had taken his seat, his blood boiling at the inappropriate question, he considered the reason for his over the top reaction. (Y/N) had brought a lot of happiness into his life, filling a void he hadn’t taken the time to recognize had grown over the last few years. Loneliness, the acceptance of retaining his bachelor status permanently. And the realization, when she would casually touch him, that he was touch starved. He was already comfortable with, and protective of, their friendship. The last thing he wanted at that moment was for her to overhear Caruthers suggestion, should it cause a rift between them.  

And, if he was honest with himself, he recognized that his feelings for her were...complicated. If he were to see a reaction in her at the suggestion they were sleeping together, he was not sure what that could do to them. The idea that Flip could lose (Y/N) terrified him.

So he actively worked to push his feelings down, preferring the safety of friendship. The safety of routine and the expected.

+

Today, Flip and Jimmy returned from a successful arrest on a perp they’d been following for weeks. They had managed to nail him while he was completing a small drug shipment from his mother’s garage. The whole arrest took them only just over an hour, and it was clean-the suspect, upon seeing the two detectives, surrendered.

When they arrived back at the station, Flip lingered outside to finish his smoke, feeling pretty satisfied with how the arrest went down and looking forward to sharing the success with (Y/N). He never told her anything classified, however in her position she was privy to a lot of sensitive information. She knew the details of most of the cases the detectives worked on.

He found it effortless to share the good days straight away, enjoying the way her features lit up at his words. Regardless of what she was working on, she would give him her full attention. The bad days she coaxed out of Flip with care during the drive to her home, always ready to comfort him or offer words of encouragement.

“Did you have a rough day, detective?” She had asked him one afternoon as they walked to his truck. He had been silent when approaching her at the end of the day, giving her a brief nod as she joined his pace and they hurried out of the station.

Flip had glanced down at her, unable to keep the frown off of his face. She merely tilted her head, her eyes soft as she waited patiently for him to speak, to say whatever he needed to. He had taken a deep breath before relenting.

“Just, usual bullshit from the Chief, about a case I worked just before you joined us.” He wasn’t able to elaborate, the entire case classified. Even files had been destroyed to keep it under wraps. Which was part of the reason he was so annoyed-he felt they could have accomplished more if they’d remained undercover longer. The Chief wholly disagreed.

Part of Flip had wondered if she would tease him, or tell him off for whining; a reaction that would have been entirely unsurprising from any of his fellow detectives. “Flip, do me a favour, tough man?” She had asked instead, leaning slightly against the side of his truck and gazing up at him.

“What’s that, darling?”

(Y/N) smiled, “When you walk through those doors at the end of the day,” She gestured at the main entrance, “You leave all the bullshit behind, don’t take it home with you anymore.”

He returned her smile, shrugging, “What if it’s too much to leave behind?” He hadn’t meant for the words to come out so quietly. (Y/N) stepped closer to him, their bodies inches apart, and Flip found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her (y/e/c) eyes.

“Then let me help you carry it, at least.” She had replied, voice equally as soft.

After a pause, she had patted his arm gently before moving to climb into the truck.  

“Flip,” He glanced up, pulled from his thoughts, to see Jimmy standing at the main station doors. His expression was unusually annoyed. Flip tossed his smoke, stomping it out.

“What is it?”

Jimmy shook his head, “You ain’t gonna like this.” And he pulled open the door. The sounds of a man shouting were the first thing to reach Flip’s ears, and he followed Jimmy inside, curious.

The shouting man had his finger angrily pointed at (Y/N), who was standing behind the counter. His yells echoed off the walls, a jarring contrast to the warmth and professionalism the station usually exuded. (Y/N) was positioned somewhat defensively in front of Donna-who Flip only noticed as he was approaching-her jaw set and mouth in a thin line. His eyes assessed her quickly, taking in her crossed arms and narrowed eyes, while he moved toward the scene with fast steps.

“I don’t give a god damn that he’s a police detective, I’m telling you no-” As the man uttered a slur, Flip’s frown morphed into a glare. He made his way down the hall unnoticed by everyone, all attention on the man. He hated when men cursed and uttered slurs in front of ladies. He especially hated that it was being directed at (Y/N). “-is going to be arresting my son, no sir, now you get that damn-“

“Sir, I’m not going to tell you again, your son was arrested, lawfully by a respected Detective of this station. Now lower your voice and I would be happy to take you to see your son and meet the detective.” Flip had never seen her angry-or even annoyed-but at that moment her eyes were narrowed, lips twisted in distaste as if the irritation tasted sour on her tongue. He did not like seeing (Y/N) upset, nor treated so poorly.

Her reasonable words served to merely enrage the large man further, his face reddening as he stepped closer to the counter. Flip, still unnoticed, moved to step in and lead the man away, his intention simply to diffuse the situation. However, there was a pressure building in his chest; the next few moments seemed to slow down in his red hazed vision, his willpower strong enough to remain professional, his hand reaching out to touch the man's shoulder-

Only the fucker pointed, his dirty hand inches from (Y/N)’s face, and rudely snarled, “Shut up bitch, and get me a white detective to talk to before I-“

The pressure hit a breaking point.

Flip instead seized that hand and twisted it behind the asshole’s back. A growl ripped from his chest as he used his free hand to grab the back of the man's neck and force him down, bending him over the counter. A wave of gratification swept through Flip when the man grunted in pain and surprise, his face pressed to the countertop.

“You were looking for a white Detective, I hear?” He snarled, his grip too tight for the man to struggle against. Flip was much too angry, a fact that his rational mind was concerning over-he had been fine moments before. Movement out of the corner of his eye had Flip glancing up, his eyes meeting (Y/N)’s over the desk. “You alright, darling?” His voice considerably softer as he surveyed her, concerned.

She nodded, her eyes holding his gaze steadily. “Just fine, Detective.” (Y/N) quickly assured him. Flip thought he saw something pass through her gaze, but before he could read it, it was gone. Something about that look had the thundering rage inside of him fading, which was for the best. He loosened his grip, slightly, resisting the urge to cause further harm.

Adrenaline coursed through Flip’s body, eyes never breaking away from hers. She seemed to draw him in, the look alone calming him further.

“Alright, sir, you’re coming with me, we’re going to have a little chat on how we conduct ourselves around ladies.” Jimmy stepped up, smirking, and cuffed the man. Flip looked away from (Y/N), and watched his partner and a uniformed officer lead the man away.

Flip momentarily considered following, but thought better of it. He drew a steadying breath of air, his anger dissolving as quickly as it had come on.

“Oh Donna, are you okay?”

Flip turned at the sound of (Y/N)‘s voice. Donna was visibly upset, her gentle nature affected. (Y/N), it seemed, was much less shaken. She wrapped her arms around Donna and gave her a comforting hug.

“I’m being silly, really,” Donna gulped, wiping at her eyes, “I’ve seen it all, at my age, you know. I just really worried he was going to hop the counter!”

(Y/N) patted her back, “I did too, but we’re alright, thanks to Detective Zimmerman. Why don’t you head home early?”

Flip agreed, ignoring the swell of pride at her words, “You don’t need to be worrying about us, Donna, you go ahead home and tell Carl I defended your honour on his behalf.” Flip joked, causing his matronly friend to give a shaky laugh and wipe away her tears. (Y/N) gave him a grateful look.

Flip stuck around while Donna gathered her things and bid them farewell, never taking his eyes off of (Y/N). She had walked over to the benches that lined the wall, taking a seat and letting her head fall back against the brick. Waving happily as Donna walked out, her smile dropped when she was out of sight.

She heaved a big sigh, watching as Flip joined her. His arm pressed against hers, neither of them adjusting their positions to move away. He said nothing, knowing she would speak when she was ready. They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring across at the silly pictures the kids had drawn.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Flip,” (Y/N) finally said, shaking her head sadly. Flip stared down at her a moment, raising his brow.

“There is nothing for you to be apologizing for, darling.”

“I-I know, I suppose I just...” She trailed off, glancing away. When she didn’t look like she would finish her thought, he decided to joke and change the subject, though he filed her reaction away in the part of his mind he reserved for her failings at caring for herself. It ultimately served to provide him with excuses to care for her in his own ways, as a friend would.

A friend, only.

“You want me to go in there and rough him up a bit?” Flip wished he was fully kidding, but part of him would have been happy to go and knock the asshole around if she’d asked him to.

Instead, she laughed at his words, an arguably much better result. He smiled at the melody of her voice “Flip, thanks for shutting him up.” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, an almost coy expression appearing.  

Giving no real thought behind the action, simply following his instincts, Flip reached out and gently tucked some loose strands of (y/h/c) hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there a moment, before dropping abruptly, “Of course.” His voice came out in a rumble, “No one will ever speak to you like that around me, darling.”

She had watched him with her wide, beautiful eyes as he’d spoken, barely moving when he’d touched her hair. She was regarding him now with affection; he could see it clearly.

“My best friend, the protector.” She teased, breaking the frisson that had built between them, much to his relief.

Flip smirked down at her, though his heart was beating tirelessly in his chest and his mind was reeling. She patted his leg before standing, thanking him again. He watched her walk back to the reception desk, his expression unreadable. While he was fairly sure he could return to his desk, Flip decided to go outside for another smoke. chastising himself for the direction his thoughts had moved; from the intensity of his anger to the guilt of imagining filthy scenarios with his best friend.

When she had teased him, it was the first time the term had been used. And he found himself torn, feeling both touched at the sentiment, yet disappointed at its platonic connotation.

Flip returned home that evening in an overwhelmed state of mind, after a quiet car ride with (Y/N). She had thanked him again before hurrying inside her home. He wanted to stop her, to ask about the look on her face earlier.

He wanted to ask her why the first word that came to mind to describe it was hungry.  

Bristling, he sought release immediately, not bothering to undress beyond kicking off his boats and lowering his jeans to his thighs. He stood in his bedroom panting, one hand on his dresser to keep him steady, as he fisted his already hard length. He was desperate, sensitive from weeks of pent up sexual frustration he had pointedly ignored.

A guttural moan ripped from his chest as Flip finally allowed the thoughts of (Y/N) to the forefront of his mind; thoughts of her glowing skin, soft to his touch, her body quivering as he explored head to toe, kissing every inch. His hand moved quickly, the tension building within him swiftly. It only took a few more pumps as he imagined his name on her lips in ecstasy, pleading for him not to stop...

With a cry, he came-the wave of pleasure pulsing through his body as his cum spurted, coating his hand and dripping to the floor. "Fuck!" His head tilted back.

His legs trembled, perspiration coating his skin; he crashed from his high and quickly sat on the edge of his bed, gasping for air. After only a few moments of relief, the guilt seeped back into the front of Flip’s mind.

He sighed, “Flip, you’re a piece of garbage.” He muttered to himself, eyes closing in disgust. He fell back, now laying on his bed, chewing his lip as he considered everything that had happened. His mind was now much clearer.

And there was simply no denying, the expression on (Y/N)'s face had not been of fear or concern. It had been of arousal. Flip wasn't sure of how he would react if he ever saw that look cross her face again, and so he fretted at the best way to move forward.

Would telling her how he felt, and risking their friendship, be the right move? Or was Flip too selfish, too cowardly, to admit his feelings?

Flip didn't sleep a wink.

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[path-of-my-childhood]

‘Willow’ Cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto Didn’t Know Taylor Swift Had a New Album, Either

By: Claire Shaffer for Rolling Stone Date: December 14th 2020

When award-winning cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto started working on the video for “Willow” with Taylor Swift in November, he didn’t know that it was a part of her new surprise album, Evermore.

“I thought maybe it was a video for the previous album. I didn’t even know what the song was at our first meeting.”

Prieto wasn’t the only one in the dark about the new record; Swift dropped Evermore last week with a very similar rollout to her previous LP Folklore, complete with a self-directed music video released at midnight along with the album: “Willow.” The video serves as a narrative continuation of the story in the “Cardigan” music video — which Prieto also worked on — featuring a ton of visual references to tracks from Folklore.

As with the “Cardigan” video, Swift, Prieto and the production team not only had to keep the shoot under wraps, but also find innovative ways to film the project under Covid-19 safety protocols without endangering the lives of the crew. Prieto spoke to Rolling Stone about the production this time around, and how the team brought Swift’s witchy vision for “Willow” to life.

How did the “Willow” shoot differ from “Cardigan”? It looks like you guys were able to have other actors on set this time around, but how did that change the safety measures you had to follow?

It was still very, very strict. A big part of it was the whole testing protocols, which we also did last time. But when we were doing this video, we knew more [about the virus], and the safety guidelines were more specific. We followed the same ones the DGA has done, that my union Local 600 has done, SAG — they’ve all put in place these protocols that we did follow, and were very careful about it.

For instance, in the scene with the choreography around the tree and the clearing, you know, with a sort of dance around these magical orbs, there was a limit on how many actors and dancers we could have there. That was created by visual effects, actually — they added in more dancers. I think the actual number was 10 dancers when we were filming, and they all have masks on, actually. We can’t see their faces, and that’s partly because they have masks.

There’s only really one moment, in the cabin, where she’s in close contact with [another actor], with the man that she’s been missing at all these different moments. But, of course, both were tested, and they’d only take off their masks in the moment where we’re actually shooting. Everyone else would always wear masks on. And similar to last time, anybody who was in the immediate vicinity of the scene had to have a red wristband — it was all color-coded, in terms of who could be close to the scene and the actors. And certainly, it was very important to have not only a mask, but a face shield whenever we were anywhere close to Taylor or any of the other actors or dancers.

I still used the remote camera on a crane, so there wasn’t even a camera operator close to anybody. We were still following all the guidelines very closely, but now, it felt more relaxed in the sense that we have more information. We could just follow all these protocols. And we knew that we’d be safe because it was all pretty strict.

You mentioned last time that communication could sometimes be difficult on the “Cardigan” set because everyone had to kind of yell at each other or point to things since they couldn’t get in close proximity. Was Taylor able to be more hands-on in her directing this time around, like she was while you were shooting the music video for “The Man?”

That was still was the case — especially when you have a mask and a face shield, and you’re six feet away, you have to be a little louder to be heard. So we did maintain that protocol. But she was still very involved. I would stay at my monitor at the DIT [digital imaging technician] station, because it was the best image, but everyone would all be kind of looking at it from a distance, from six feet away.

But there was one moment that was unforgettable. And she actually has mentioned it, which was, just as we were starting to film on November 7th, we got the news of the election result. We were both looking at the monitor at the DIT station, and she got a text alert or something like that. Obviously, at that moment, we were all working on the video, but in the back of our minds we’re all like, OK, what’s gonna happen? And she was the only one who could actually look at her phone, because in fact, everybody had to relinquish their phones in the beginning so that nobody would take photos of anything, except for a few people like myself, who could sometimes use our phone to take a photograph as reference. And I was only using it very, very sporadically for that sort of thing.

So Taylor ended up being the messenger for the election results on set.

Exactly. So, she’s next to me — six feet away, but she was next to me. And she got this text, and she showed it to me. So I learned of the result from her at that moment, and what I told her was, “I will never forget this moment,” both because it’s such a historically important moment and because she was the one who showed me this information, you know. That was pretty special. Yeah. I felt like celebrating and doing a little dance, but I didn’t — we’re professionals and we’re working and also, I wanted to be respectful of anybody who had voted differently. But it was a very incredible moment, and just the beginning of a three-day shoot that turned out to be an adventure.

This video makes so many references to songs on Folklore and older songs from Taylor’s discography, both obvious and hidden. How did she lay out her vision to you?

The first meeting was talking about the story and the ideas. I still didn’t know the song, but the first thing was figuring out that it’s a continuation of the previous one we did together. At that moment, she was still kind of developing her ideas and trying to figure out exactly what was going to happen — for example, the ending wasn’t quite clear yet. She knew that she wanted to finish again in the cabin and that [the man] would be there, right. But during that meeting, we decided to have them both leave the cabin. That was an idea that came to us as we were talking as a team.

And then we went back and forth — at first she thought it should be night outside because it’s always been night, and then she changed her mind and said it should be daytime, so we were like, OK, what does it look like out there? Is it just the limbo? And then Ethan Tobin, our production designer, said it should be this sort of autumn forest. She was very much appreciative of that and really listened to everybody’s ideas.

There was also discussion about that moment in the clearing, about whether it should be a bonfire or not. First of all, with production, we would have had to shoot it outside and that would have been very complicated. But also she felt that, even with special effects, it was not a good thing to show with all the wildfires going on in California. So she came up with the concept of some type of orbs, something more magical, and Ethan Tobin came up with a bunch of different reference photos for that. That was the way we developed these concepts — even with the willow tree, Ethan sent some images and ideas, and one of them had these magenta leaves on the ground, which was weird and magical. Taylor and I loved that. It was that kind of back-and-forth in the pre-production phase, before we even heard the music.

It’s amazing how you were able to pull this off under such complicated circumstances — communicating back-and-forth over Zoom, and then with the actual video shoot itself.

It’s pretty tricky to get such a complicated and really technically challenging shoot off the ground, but we planned it all beforehand. Ethan Tobin was working with his art director Simon Morgan on designing the sets over Zoom. So, it was all overhead plans, and then you have to go to the set and map it out. For that clearing scene, for instance, Simon Morgan and myself, and my gaffer Manny Tapia and my key grip Donald Reynolds, we went to the soundstage first and taped the space in the center where the magic orbs would be. And then we measured the distance to the background with the blue screen, and taped where all the trees would be, and then figured out where all the lighting would be for there and the carnival set — everything had to be very, very precise, and the distance had to all be worked out. It really helped when we were actually shooting, because it went very smoothly. So, that’s how we made it.

[cerberusdailynews]

[PEOPLE] Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi

By Cil M’riste, freelance storyteller xposted to Freelance News, Cerberus Daily News, The Watch, and 14 others The Ardat-Yakshi condition is one of our oldest myths. One that is largely presumed to be legend by a large portion of the galaxy’s population. The term “ardat-yakshi” appears in fantasy books, in extranet games, and even in extranet RP forums. But what is the condition, and what is the myth? Most people will never even meet those with the underpinning medical issue. But I happened to get a chance to sit down with someone with the condition, to get her thoughts on a few issues facing people like herself. I myself am not a doctor, nor any legal scholar. So any information provided by this interview can only be taken as a small view into a larger issue. They are the opinions and lived experiences of but one person living with the condition. The rest of the article will be presented in a Q/A format, with a set of final thoughts from myself. Cil (C): "Hi, Nara. It's nice to meet you! Thanks for doing this. How was the trip here?" Nara (N): "Um... nice to meet you too, Cil, my job is to pilot a freighter between here and Palaven, so I make this trip a lot. This time it was a little slower than usual. You'd think traffic jams wouldn't be a thing in three-dimensional space, but with the amount of starship traffic around the Citadel, that's not always true. But I assume you're not here to interview me about my trip. You're here to interview me because I'm an Ardat-Yakshi. Well... Ask away." C:"Oh, no. While that’s true, that it's not what we came here for, I'm not aiming to rush you. But if you'd like to get into it, certainly. Let's see…" N: "Yeah, I'd like to get the tough questions out of the way sooner, I've been stressed out about this interview for like the whole day, and once we get those out of the way it'll be a huge load off my back." C: “Well, for starters. All most of us know about Ar- about those with your condition is that they are... well, extremely controlled, to put it mildly. Most of that knowledge comes from vids and games and all manner of fictional sources, so I don't even know if that's actually part of their thing, but for the sake of asking... Have you ever had an encounter with a Justicar?" N: "I can neither confirm nor deny that, unfortunately. Damn it. Uhhhhh... some of it, but not all of it, will probably be declassified in like fifty years or something. If we're both still around then, I can answer that question. But I think this is the only question that would run into that problem, so feel free to ask anything else you want." C:"So if there's something to declassify that insinuates, at least in my view, at least a tip to the scales in the 'yes' direction. But we'll move on, for sure. Hopefully this one is a little more easily answered. Now, as I understand it, for obvious reasons you've spent your life outside of the Asari Republics entirely. What has life been like for you living away from the traditional asari space?" N: "That... is quite a broad question, you could get a whole interview out of that, if you wanted. But if you want a short answer... On Palaven, especially in the city I grew up in, there weren't very many asari. I spent my whole childhood trying to fit in with my turian neighbors, and I didn't really have other asari to interact with other than my parents. When I became an adult, I enlisted to join the Turian military, where I stayed for most of my life so far, then retired to the reserves several years ago. I ended up having to become a cabalist since I was a biotic, like almost all asari are. There was only one other asari in my cabal though, and we didn't really get along much. First deployment was to Irune, which was pretty peaceful. Also met my wife there, so it made up for having to wear an exosuit all the time. Second deployment was to Solregit, which was... not peaceful. There was a rebellion on the planet's northern hemisphere that wanted to secede from the Hierarchy, which I'm sure you've heard about before. And, of course, I helped defend Palaven during the Reaper War. If there's anything you'd like me to go into more detail about, ask away." C:"Wife? Can you explain how that happened? Were they aware of...everything?" [Nara showed me some pictures here] N:"We met through an online dating service, actually. I stated up-front in my profile that my condition made it impossible for me to meld with anyone, or... be intimate in a way that could risk me accidentally melding with them. But Jin wasn't really interested in either of those things, so we were both happy together in spite of that. I think I have some wedding photos in my omnitool I can show you. That's her. That's Jin. And that's me next to her, but it's hard to tell it's me because the suit obscures my face." C:"Awwww. Those are lovely pictures. Many of us in our maiden stage don't settle down so easily. Do you think living in a mostly turian area growing up influenced your desire to commit to someone that early? And if you don't mind another question to move us along... You seem relatively outspoken about your condition. Is there a reason you feel the need to take what most people would likely consider the risky position of putting yourself and your condition out there without secrecy?" N: "To answer your first question, I would say yes, absolutely. Most of my turian peers, those who did settle down, at least, tended to do so in their thirties. I was thirty-eight years old when I married Jin, which is a little above average for a turian but I found out later that it was like, crazy low for an asari. Your second question is kind of complicated because I have multiple reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, is that somebody needs to speak out. If any of the Ardat-Yakshi in the Republics tried to do an interview like this, they'd be killed or locked up by Justicars or by the government or an angry mob of other asari. I'm still worried sometimes that they'll try and do that to me anyway, even though I've never been to asari space, and if it's a justicar I don't stand any chance of winning a one-on-one fight with one. I have a responsibility to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, while I still can. Secondly, I'm from the Hierarchy and Turian culture places a very very strong value on honesty. Directly lying about my condition would go against everything I stand for. Thirdly, if what I say informs people about Ardat-Yakshi, it lessens the risk of other Ardat-Yakshi accidentally or, though I'm sad to say it, intentionally injuring or killing innocent people. If even one life is saved, even if I get killed, speaking up will have been worth it. Lastly, though this isn't that important since it only affects my personal life, but I am really, really, annoyed by stereotypes about asari promiscuity and especially asari maiden promiscuity. Letting it be known that I can't sleep with anyone because it could kill them cuts down on unwanted propositioning by, like, ninety percent." C: "Thank you… Those answers definitely shed some light on why you're willing to be rather public about these things. It's a good goal, wanting less people to be hurt. The idea of informing others actually leads quite nicely into my next question. I'm fairly certain I know the answer to this one- But are there any big myths that are simply false, or incomplete information that you think people should know the truth about?" N: "Well, to start things off, basically everything in stuff like Galaxy of Fantasy is wrong. We don't have magic powers, we can't resurrect the dead, et cetera. Most of these should be fairly obviously false, so I'm not going to spend that much time on them because otherwise I'd have to spend all day ranting about stuff like that one human I met who claimed I was somehow a real-life vampire or something. I get so many vampire comparisons. It's annoying. Ardat-yakshi aren't vampires. There's like, no connection at all. Anyway, to get back on track, there's one very important myth I would like to dispel. The ardat-yakshi medical condition is actually a spectrum. The lethal variant of the condition, which I have, is very very rare, but there are other variants that aren't lethal, and are much more common. At the mildest and most common end you have people who just give their meld partners temporary headaches, though most people with this variant don't actually know that what they have is technically a variant of the ardat-yakshi disease, and the Republics don't persecute them like they do with people like me. However, they're still infertile, just like anyone else on the A-Y spectrum. Further along the spectrum, the condition gets bad enough that each meld basically gives the ardat-yakshi's meld partner a concussion, and then even further along the spectrum comes permanent brain damage from each meld, and some ardat-yakshi can even leave their partners comatose in extreme cases. Or dead." C:"Thank you for your answers. I can't imagine it's easy to talk about some of this, given the way the disorder is regarded. Now that we've discussed things that are false, what are some true things you wished other people knew about it?" N: "Well, melding is actually addictive for Ardat-Yakshi, just as the Republics and Justicars say it is. I'm not exactly sure how addictive it is, since at the time of my only meld, which was before I knew I was an Ardat-Yakshi of course, I was already trying to fight off an Aurora addiction. I'm not sure what withdrawal effects were from that and what were from the meld, but it's definitely possible to fight off the addiction. Secondly, Ardat-Yakshi serial killers, though I would like to emphasize that they are very, very rare and are in no way representative of the average A-Y sufferer, do actually exist. They normally don't get very far in the Republics proper, since an autopsy can reveal how the victims died and you can test suspects for the Ardat-Yakshi medical condition. But outside asari space, people don't know how to actually catch the serial killers because the Republics keep trying to suppress information about Ardat-Yakshi, and the serial killers can amass staggering body counts because of that. The Republics would seemingly let hundreds of innocent people die to... um... avoid making themselves look bad or something? I'm actually kind of confused as to why they don't just tell everyone the truth for once." C: "Hm. That makes sense. But what about asari colonies, or even nations with asari majority or pluralities? Surely the condition can occur in them as well? Even if the Republics are, as you say, loath to reveal the truth, surely someone out there has been doing research too? That's just a thought though, I don't actually expect you to know what groups or nations all across the Terminus might be doing." N:"As far as I know, the condition, well, the forms of the condition severe enough to be dangerous, anyway, is rare enough that research isn't prioritized, especially since A-Y is basically a pureblood exclusive disease and asari colonies outside the Republics tend to have fewer purebloods." C:"Well, I have two more questions planned, so we're really scooting along here. Thank you again for sitting down with me. Let's see... Are there any mistakes you've made in your efforts to spread awareness for this condition?" N:"Well, with the fact that so few Ardat-Yakshi are able to speak openly about their conditions, when I talk to people about this, I'm basically the only Ardat-Yakshi that most people ever know about. Since I'm their only reference point, I worry that people will take my flaws and apply them to everyone with the condition. I admit, I'm not the best figurehead. I'm a convicted criminal, albeit for something I don't want to discuss here. I'm a veteran of a, to put it mildly, controversial war on Solregit. And I don't get along with people sometimes, along with other various personality flaws. But there are Ardat-Yakshi who are better people than I am. They simply never got the chance to speak out, like I do. One more question, and then I have to get back to my ship." C:"Of course, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I only had one last one planned anyway." Well we've spoken about many aspects of the situation as-it-is. What, to you, would a more just policy look like in the Republics?" N: "To put it simply, equality under the law. No preemptive targeting of Ardat-Yakshi based on what we might do, with the monasteries as a strictly voluntary institution. Ardat-Yakshi who have knowingly hurt or murdered people should still be arrested, like any other criminal. Ardat-Yakshi who do not harm others should be treated the same as anyone else. All I ask is that you judge each of us by our own actions, not the actions of others." C:"A fine answer. One I think the vast majority of people can empathize with. I understand. You probably have a schedule to keep. But it's been a pleasure getting to know you some, Nara. I look forward to writing this up." With the interview concluded, I walked away with a few different feelings. I entered the conversation a little nervously. I had no more special knowledge of the AY condition than any other asari out there. Since I’m not a doctor I can’t speak to the accuracy of any of the medical specific claims my guest made. But I felt that her desire to make more information known was genuine. During the conversation there were certainly no feelings of threat or manipulation that I picked up on. And I sympathize greatly with the idea of wanting to be treated the same as everyone else. It was a very interesting conversation; and one that opens a window into a phenomena that is very rarely covered in anything but fiction. I hope you enjoyed the small look into the world of Ardat-Yakshi as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you.

[pastelpaperplanes]

Part 5

Optimus had never worn as little as he was in that moment, and considering the situation, he would normally be a lot more anxious about it, but when you're suspended this high off the ground with only two thin strips of fabric holding you up, that was the least of your worries at the moment.

Jadarite, Eion and Calipso were all on the ground, calling up words of encouragement to him as he managed to get the wrap around his torso properly. 

Unverlo was up in the rigging alongside some of the workers who maintained said rigging, mostly there to let him know if something got tangled and they’d have to drop him onto the massive padded mat directly under him on the stage.

He took a moment before he began the next stunt to question how Jadarite had even got him into this.

Something about his upper frame physique and how the crowd would love it?

After that thought was done, he let himself go, letting the flow of the fabrics let him spin around and around and around.

Just as he was about to hit the mat, he shifted, and the roll stopped, leaving a perilous amount of fabric left underneath him and his optics having to recalibrate to adjust to the sudden change in depth.

There was a round of applause from those around him as he put his servos and knees to the mat and untangled himself from the fabrics.

Once they were free hanging again, Unverlo and the mechs up in the rigging started to pull it all back up for storage, that had been the last trick he had wanted to get right, so the session was over.

Jadarite offered her servo to him, which he took as she helped him off the mat. “You’re a natural Pax, the crowds gonna love you even more when you get up the confidence to do it in front of them.” She praised, shifting to walk with him off the stage and down to where the tables and chairs were for the guests, a servo resting on his opposite shoulder as the predominantly white femme led him down and around to the doors that led to the network of workers only corridors that would in turn lead to the dressing rooms. 

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “You sure Boss? I’m still feeling pretty wobbly.”

Jadarite chuckled with a lot more conviction than his own. “How many times do I have to tell you I’ve got an optic for talent Pax? Everyone is wobbly to start with! Why when I was at your level of experience I ran face first into a pole in the middle of a performance and knocked myself out!” She exclaimed, whacking her forehelm with her palm to emphasise the incident. 

He gave her an awkward chuckle. “Hopefully I don’t do that…”

She went to reply back when the ships intercom came to life, and one of the Captains, it wasn’t easy to tell which with just the voice, started to speak. ::Attention all Passengers and Crew, we will soon be arriving at the Intergalactic Port, Galvara-5, if this is your departure call, please make sure you have everything you have brought with you packed away, as we will not be turning around for an errant data pad. For those who are not departing us at Galvara-5, we will be docked for two cycles, if you are not back on the ship exactly two cycles after we arrive, we will leave without you.::

He made a face. “That’s a bit harsh…”

Jadarite shrugged. “Think of it from their perspective, The Polaris is a literal city, does a city stop for one data pad?”

“No?”

“No, plus, being blunt about this and having it as part of the policy prevents grounds for lawsuits… it’s been company policy since the time of their Grandsire being in charge of the fleet.” She explained. 

Optimus nodded. “That makes sense… so… Galvara-5? What’s it like? I’ve never been off Cybertron before.” He explained. 

“Oh it’s hectic, because The Polaris and the rest of the fleet have it as their first docking spot after Cybertron, there’s always at least ten companies fighting and throwing money to have their cargo to get the fast track treatment.” She explained. “That’s something the Captains handle though, everyone else gets two cycles to hit up the clubs and tourist traps that have sprung up since the Fleet started using this place, before the Fleet took it as their first landing spot, it was apparently a pretty standard space port, now, it’s supersized and handles everything coming through this Quadrant, The Polaris is still the largest docking ship by leagues, of course.” She puffed up a bit as she stated that.

That was something he noticed, all the mechs and femmes who worked on this ship seemed to hold a great deal of pride, especially those like Jadarite, who felt like someone who knew the ins and outs of the ship better than she knew how to dance, which was saying something, he’d seen her during some of the shows, she could cut a rug and make artwork out of it.

“So, want to see Galvara-5 for yourself?” Jadarite offered. “We don’t have to put on shows during docking periods, it’s expected most bots will get off to take in the scenes and sights instead.” 

He shrugged. “If that’s the case I certainly don’t mind.” 

Jadarite beamed. “Wonderful, we can all go as a group and do a bar crawl! How does that sound?”

He chuckled. “Sounds good… so long as I’m not the only one carrying everyone’s drunk afts back to the ship. Especially Drakus, I don’t know about you, but I might need to go see Dust for a thrown out back strut if I tried to carry him!”

Drakus was the ‘big mech’ of the entertainment department, and was apparently very good at tossing the smaller bots into the air for more dramatic stunts, luckily Optimus was just above the weight that Dust allowed the mech to toss. 

Jadarite chuckled in turn. “Ah’ll remember that kiddo! Now how about you go and get changed out of that get up? Hmm? Before a lost passenger sees you and catches feelings!” She jested, nudging him ahead of her and into the changing rooms. 

Suddenly reminded of just how little he was wearing, Optimus yelped and tried to cover himself up, earning another truly raucous laugh from Jadarite. 

Cybertron

Megatron had to admit, he was having a hard time paying attention to what he was doing. 

He had the star map for the Trans Galactic fleet folded up on one side of his desk, if the Polaris was making good time, they’d be arriving at Galvara-5 soon, and hopefully one of his friends would have the chance to give him a call. 

He was itching to hear about Orion, make sure the dancer was doing alright. 

He’d sprung the change of employers so quickly on the mech, he’d wanted to give him time to pack and the like, but his concerns over Shockwave pulling something had overruled that wish. 

A knock at his door drew his attention away from the paper work he’d been looking at without actually reading. “Come in.” He spoke. 

The door opened and he would admit to himself, he was surprised to see who walked in. “Blackarachnia?” He asked in surprise as the femme walked in. 

The femme, known infamously as the Queen of the Insecticons, looked murderous, melt a poor soul into the sidewalk for being within her vicinity murderous, he was surprised Lugnut let her reach his office with that expression. He might need to go and check for his body...

“What. The frag did you do?” The femme hissed out. 

“You know full well your going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Optimus. What the fuck did you do to him!” She snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. 

“Who?” He asked, he’d never heard of a mech called ‘Optimus’. He had a feeling BlackArachnia was misplacing her anger. “BlackArachnia, if one of your… associates has gone missing, I am not the one responsible.”

She blinked at him dumbstruck for a moment before snarling again. “Don’t pull that slag with me! You’re in deep slag you idiot! The Elite Guard’s started a murder investigation on you!” She snapped out. 

His optic ridges shot up. “...What…”

She nodded. “You killed their informant. I knew him… he… he used to be my friend… before… this…” She gestured to herself. “Words spreading fast… surprised you didn’t hear about it before me… So… what the frag… did you do… to Optimus?”

He shook his helm. “I’ve never met a mech by the designation ‘Optimus’.” He tried to explain. 

She sighed. “Baby blue face, bright blue helm piece with finals, waist that should not be supporting a chassis as broad as his?” She began to list off. 

That was all he needed to hear for his attention to go to a black and white photo on his desk, framed in a quaint wood frame, he slowly turned it to face her. “Your… Your describing Orion.” 

“Orion? Frag… he used a cover name… wait… you didn’t know he was an informant?”

Megatron felt something in his spark drop. “No… I didn’t…”

She looked at him confused. “Then… why did you kill him?”

“I didn’t!” He exclaimed, affronted at the very idea of him being responsible for Orion… Optimus… Orion’s death. “He’s not dead!”

“Then where is he?! He was Magnus’ favourite once upon a time! And he’s using the fact that he’s not been seen in weeks to build a murder case on you! They’ve had ships trawl the docks for his body!”

He froze then. “What… wait… the docks?”

She nodded. “Yes! Everyone knows you took him to the docks with Lugnut and Shockwave! Everyone… came to the conclusion you… put him in the Docks… you didn’t… put him in the docks…” 

He shook his helm. “No… I had his contract changed from being in my name, to the name of an old friend. He’s on their ship as we speak.” 

BlackArachnia’s shoulders dropped in relief. “He’s not dead…” 

He nodded, but his expression soured. “Now that we’ve established that… what’s this about him being an informant?”

BlackArachnia made a face. “That I don’t know much about… but what I do know is… it’s a scandal in the Elite Guard… Magnus apparently never cleared this… Sentinel Prime went behind his back and made Optimus work as an informant for him… Optimus wasn’t part of the Guard… he was a civilian… that it seems… Sentinel strong armed into getting information on you for him… That’s all that’s gotten out into the rumour mill so far…” She explained. 

He hummed and intertwined his digits. “The ship with… Optimus… on it… is soon to arrive on Galvara-5… I will address the Captains and see about getting proof that he is alive and well on the ship… that will hopefully enough to clear me of murder when a trial comes… Thank you BlackArachnia… for bringing this all to my attention… Now I know to be prepared...” 

BlackArachnia nodded and took that as her que to leave. 

It would seem, it was more than just Sol and Neb that he would need to speak with on the Polaris… directly. 

The Polaris Bridge.

Nebularburst yawned as she watched the bid prices roll in, Solarstorm was handling the auction itself in Galvara-5’s trading hall, everytime they flew through here, wealthier and wealthier companies and syndicates were throwing more money at them to get their stuff along the flight path they had. 

A chipper autotone voice pipped up from the main console. “Tired Pilot?”

Nebular snorted. “Me? Tired? Child who do you think you are suggesting that?”

The voice snickered through the speakers. “This child~ Who knows you haven’t recharged in four cycles.”

“You’ve been using the security cameras in our quarters to spy on me again… haven’t you?”

“........... Fraggit…”

“POLS!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The voice yipped.

Nebularburst sighed, rubbed the sides of her helm. “No… no… I’m sorry… I know it’s pointless thinking we can have you keep some of your innocence… what with what we have you do on the outer rim…”

“What I do on the outer rim is my duty… I’ve known my duty since the cycle you brought me online… I should still try not to swear like those who work in my engines...”

She patted the console gently. “It’s okay… HOLY FPPPFTTT…” She suddenly exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks to stop herself from cursing as she pointed at the sudden spike from the Auction count. “Someone just bet a brand new mining colony filled with rare ores!” 

“WHAT?!”

“... Looks like we’re going to be even more busy now…”

“Think there will be useful stuff to be found?”

“I don’t know… but it looks like that plus a whole warehouse full of credits is the winning bid… the others are declining raising the stakes… Looks like the Prince of the Empire of Falgranum… Wonder what he wants us to ship for that much…” She mumbled. 

She didn’t get anymore time to ponder as the bridges com-link was pinged by a familiar number. 

Nbbularburst beamed. “It’s Megzy!” And sent the clearance for the call to go through. 

:We need to talk.:

Her optic ridges shot up. That didn’t sound good. 

[smol-and-grumpy]

Confidentiality - Chapter 1: The Conference Call

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Four months. Four long months that she’s been hiding in lockdown. So when everything starts to go back to normal again, she’s going back to work as Jensen’s handler for the first Supernatural convention after the pandemic.

Chapter Warnings: A little angst, a dash of fluff

WC: 1703

A/N: For this fic, let’s pretend Jensen is single and the pandemic was over and done with after four months. Also I’m sorry ugh, it’s been a while since I wrote Jensen. 

Beta’d by: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

It’s Monday and Y/N is sitting in a darkened room as she starts up her laptop for today’s work meeting. She had drawn the blinds already, hiding her surroundings from her workmates.

The light on the nightstand illuminates the room enough for the people in the video call to see her features. That’s all they need to see, really. 

Logging onto her laptop with her password, she clicks open the email client, and selects her calendar. The cursor travels over the highlighted block and she clicks on it, searching for the login link to the Zoom meeting. 

It’s 4.56 PM, she still has four minutes left. Wonders if she should click on the link and let the computer connect or if she should wait. She’d hate to be one of the first ones because that’s always awkward. She would spend time talking nonsense with whoever was as eager as her to join a meeting too soon. 

4.58 PM. Now is a good time, probably. Not too early and she’d hate even more to be the last one. 

Moving her mouse over the link, she clicks on it and a window with the meeting pops open. There’s another click and then she’s there, her laptop camera lights up with a green light, signaling that she too can be seen. 

Seeing herself on screen is not something she enjoys. She nervously rights her hair, arranges it so nobody will notice the hickey that she tried to hide with concealer ten minutes before. It’s a fresh one, one he just gave her an hour ago, even though he knew full well that she’s going to have a meeting. It's her own fault because she had let him, always gets so fucking weak when he nibbles at her throat.

Y/N joins as the six people are talking about something. Nonsense, she guesses. She doesn’t really listen. 

There should be ten people in the meeting to discuss the upcoming Supernatural Convention. The first convention after the lockdown. 

“Hi,” she says and waves, because that’s what every newcomer does and she’s greeted with Hello’s and Hi’s back. 

But there’s one guy already sitting in there, looking like he owns the whole fucking internet, and she doesn’t know how he does it with the lighting but he looks downright pretty. It’s not really fair. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jensen greets her by name. Of course he does, because he likes to rile her up. He’s also the only one who’s so abso-fucking-lutely cheery. “How are you?”

She smirks, “I’m fine, thank you. I hope you are too.”

Keeping it professional, that’s what she can and will do.

“Good,” Jensen nods and opens his mouth to say something more but he gets cut off by her boss who’s taking the lead. 

Y/N doesn’t say much, doesn’t have anything to say anyway during the first ten minutes of the conversation. Lowering her face, she takes notes because it’s a prep meeting where they get informed how it will work out and to see how the spirit of the people involved is for the upcoming convention — which she’s really excited about. It has been a while. 

Jensen and Jared do a lot of talking, as they want to know the details on how to make the experience great for the fans after everyone’s been holed up for so long. And she loves that. She always loved how they actually really care, unlike other show’s leads. There are some points that still need to be talked through and Y/N just sits back and watches. She could watch Jensen talk for days, it’s really mesmerizing. 

His hair is long, his beard too. Jensen’s new look is completely different from Dean. It makes him look softer, and rounds up the edges of his jawline. The graying of his beard doesn’t make him less attractive, and that’s also something that she thinks it’s unfair. She hopes they will let him keep it for the convention. Hopes that he won’t let them talk him out of it because ‘some fans might want to meet Dean and not Jensen’. It’s going to be another month until they go back to filming, so it’s actually feasible. She’s sure that apart from a select few, the majority of fans would love to take a photo with this look and she can’t blame them one bit.

It’s going to be weird when the look is gone. Honestly, she needed some time to get used to it herself, but it has really grown on her. Maybe she’ll mourn the loss — just a little.

“So, let’s recap,” Gina, her boss, says and Y/N snaps her mind back to reality, “Jared’s flying in on Friday already because you want to visit some friends, right?”

“Correct,” Jared nods his head in approval. “You did book the hotel for three nights for me, right?” The question is directed to her co-worker, Julian, who’s responsible for the boys' travel arrangements. 

“Yeah, I did,” Julian says with a nod of his head.

Gina nods, “Good, so Jensen, I see that you’re flying in on Saturday evening as per usual?”

“Yes.” Jensen says. He looks into his screen and licks his lips. She hates that she knows that he’s looking at her.

“I want you girls to be there on Friday evening at the latest? We’ll also go for dinner on Saturday and go over the Sunday schedule.”

“Uh, yes. I’ll be there,” Hannah and Kristin say in unison. Kristin is responsible for Misha but since Misha is also attending Sunday, she sits into the meeting as a formality.

That’s Y/N’s cue.

“I-I’m, uh, sorry, I’m still in the middle of booking my flight but yeah, I’ll be there on Friday.” 

It was a huge issue with Jensen and they’d argued today about the flight. He doesn’t want her to leave until the last possible minute but now she has the confirmation that she has to be there on Friday already.

She sees Jensen raising an eyebrow and hates him for it because he distracts her.

“Okay,” her boss nods, “Jared and Jensen, I’ll have someone picking you up.”

Jared smiles, “Okay.”

“Great,” Jensen huffs out. She can see that he’s a little irritated about something.

The others don’t seem to have noticed, but she does. Jared notices as well, but apart from him clearing his throat, he doesn’t say a word.

“Right, I need to hurry to another meeting. Boys, I’ll see you Sunday!” Gina addresses the boys before waving goodbye, and disconnects. People in the meeting follow her and disappear one by one.

Y/N too, disconnects and is about to shut down her laptop when a skype call interrupts her.

Ugh.

It’s Jensen.

As soon as she picks up, her screen lights up and the view of his face almost blinds her. Honestly, it’s like staring into the sun. Nonetheless, she rolls her eyes because of the things he pulled in the meeting. 

“Why are you rolling your eyes at me?” He asks, seemingly oblivious. 

She groans with another eye roll, “Because you tried to distract me the entire conference call!”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who was trying to undress you with my eyes.”

Y/N cocks an eyebrow, frowning at him. There’s a beat of silence until he groans.

“Fine, alright, I did. Sorry, okay? And why didn’t you say that we’re going to fly in together on Saturday like we said we would?” There’s something about the way he looks and she detects disappointment. 

“As far as I remember, we did not settle on that because you ended up distracting me again and gave me a fucking hickey. And besides,” she sighs, “Nobody should know.”

“Would it really be so bad, Y/N?”

“Jensen, are we really going to have this conversation over Skype?”

“Fine,” he scoffs and stands up abruptly, walking out of the frame. 

Great.

Abandoning her laptop, Y/N proceeds to walk to the window to open up the blinds again. Walking back, she switches off the only other light source, and as if on cue, the door opens.

“Shall we have the conversation face to face instead?” Jensen asks as he barges in, walks to the bed of his guest room, and sits down. He rubs a hand through his long hair, scratches at his beard before he looks at her. 

“I rather not have it at all, but yet here we are, huh?” She strides over to stand in front of him and Jensen looks up, his features are so fucking soft, it makes her weak.

“Why don’t you want them to know? And I’m sure they would let it slide if you flew in on Saturday instead of Friday. You’re only responsible for me anyway and we’re a good team.” His hand reaches out for her, tugs at her wrist, uses his strength to pull her onto the bed with him. 

Y/N lands on her back with a squeal and Jensen takes the opportunity, looming over her and looking down at her. Her hand goes up, strokes his hair back, fingertips tracing along his beard.

“Because the only reason I’m still employed is because you let them put in the contract that you want me as your handler and no one else. They would absolutely hate it if they found out I was fucking their talent.”

Jensen chuckles, his nose touching hers, “That’s not true.”

“What’s that?”

“If anything, it’s me fucking you.” His irresistible smile makes Y/N melt a little before he kisses her. 

He lingers too long, kisses her too softly, too sweetly, knowing what effect his kisses have on her. 

Pushing at his chest, she makes him break the kiss, “I should look for a flight.”

“No,” he chuckles and pecks her lips.

“Jensen!”

“Okay, fine,” he pushes himself up, “but only because I have an interview scheduled.”

Right, he does. It’s going to be an hour long.

“You want me to make dinner to have it ready when you’re finished?” She asks while she sits up and walks over to her laptop.

“Nah, I’ll eat you,” Jensen winks before he walks out.

Chapter 2

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[shihalyfie]

Adventure, 02, and the “secret double life”

Adventure’s concept of “Chosen Children” prophesized save-the-world heroes is hardly unique to it, and given that it ostensibly follows so many fantasy tropes, it’s easy to see it as having a textbook pattern of the “secret identity”/”secret double life” tropes, in which adventure-faring kids keep everything from their parents and society under the idea that if people found out about their adventures, they’d be kept from action or be experimented on.

But as much as it’s easy to see it that way, in fact, Adventure and 02 had a somewhat different view of the matter. Although 02 in particular, with its concept of “wake up, go to school, save the world,” probably gives off the strongest “double life” aura, in actuality, Adventure and 02 both had an underlying sentiment that the concept of keeping Digimon from one’s parents -- and, eventually, the public -- was practically impossible.

(Unless otherwise stated, translations for Adventure/02/Kizuna are from Ryuu-Rogue/PositronCannon/L Subs, respectively.)

The Hikarigaoka incident

The aftermath of the Hikarigaoka incident in 1995 (or, in other words, the Greymon and Parrotmon incident depicted in the first movie) was depicted in Adventure episode 29, in which, as it turned out, was passed off as a “terrorist bombing incident” -- and that kids like Takeru who attempted to explain the situation to their parents were dismissed for imagining things.

The Adventure novels add a bit of extra addition that there might have been some external finagling to make sure things were cleaned up, but even then, things weren’t all that clean-cut. For one, the Hikarigaoka incident was a rather short one that was cleaned up in quick order -- there was a minimal amount of destruction compared to what later events would bring (only a single localized area in terms of collateral damage, especially since Parrotmon wasn’t there to cause wanton destruction), the full brunt of the incident may not have even spanned so much of an hour, and both Digimon involved vanished almost as quickly as they came. It really is just enough that you could sweep it under the normalcy filter of wanting to throw out any supernatural explanations, especially since the kids themselves eventually succumbed to the adults’ explanations.

And yet, even despite that, Takaishi Natsuko still found the Hikarigaoka incident a topic of interest to the point she started doing independent research on it -- especially when a certain incident four years later pushed things far beyond the range of plausible deniability. The novels make this pretty explicit:

Among her normal jobs, a side project that she was working on involved investigating the “Hikarigaoka terrorist bombing incident” four years ago. It was an incident that occured in the very place where they had lived. Not only did it capture her interest, but as she kept investigating it, she found many aspects about it that weren’t acceptable explanations to her. It still wasn’t enough information for her to put into an article or a book, but someone, somehow, had managed to find out that she was working on it and had contacted her wanting to talk. But when the time of their appointment came, the man she was supposed to meet didn’t appear. What was that man’s name? Oikawa? I think? Well, I’m never going to set up a meeting with him again. 

So in other words, the fact that she had spotted a rat was somewhat public enough for someone to figure out that she was on the case. Not to mention that said someone had also spotted a rat -- someone who was not possessed by any Digimon vampires at this point, and was merely just an enthusiast trying to reconnect with a mysterious phenomenon from his childhood and dealing with grief for his recently deceased friend. It probably would not have been long before the truth would have been fully spilled even by itself -- but later events that would confirm everyone’s suspicious pretty firmly were already on the horizon.

Menoa Bellucci and the advent of Chosen Children

In a bit of “hidden” Adventure lore, the number of Chosen Children thus started to double every year -- something cited by Two-and-a-Half Year Break (Koushirou’s track) and confirmed by directorial statement. (Kizuna’s To Sora is consistent with this principle, and the 02 epilogue being set in 2027-2028 also tracks with the global population being partnered to Digimon with that precise number.) Either way, Adventure episode 53 confirmed that the eight “Tokyo Chosen Children” from 1999 (or, in other words, the Adventure main cast and their partners) were hardly isolated singularities -- there was a group of Chosen Children before them that placed an incomplete seal on Apocalymon prior, and, according to the Adventure novels, four of their partners evolved over a long period of time to become the Holy Beasts. The fact that there had to be at least four gives only a very narrow period of time said Chosen could be from, most likely between 1997 (4 Chosen) to early 1999 (16 Chosen), with the very short real-world time in between likely correlating to enough time in the Digital World for their names to be lost to their history.

(Note that Oikawa Yukio doesn’t count here; although he and Hiroki made contact with the Digital World through video games in the 80s, there is no indication that Oikawa was fundamentally partnered to Pipimon at this time, in the same way that it was only after the Tokyo Chosen Children witnessed the Hikarigaoka incident that “the one who wishes for stability” -- Homeostasis -- came up with the idea for creating a system to tie Digimon evolution to human partners.)

Kizuna confirms it further by introducing Menoa Bellucci, who says that she met Morphomon (and, presumably, did become a Chosen Child) at the age of nine, meaning presumably 1997 -- making her one of the small handful of people who became Chosen Children before the Tokyo eight.

The little snippets we get of Menoa and Morphomon’s life are interesting, but also telling. For one, their life together is depicted through a bunch of photos with both of them there, through events such as birthdays and travel...and given that someone had to have taken all of those photos, this means that it is extremely likely Menoa’s parents were fully aware of Morphomon’s presence and existence as her partner. In other words, Morphomon was not a secret to them in the first place.

Another interesting thing here is that it’s never said that Menoa went on any incredible world-saving adventure during her time with Morphomon, so it’s ambiguous whether she did or not. It’s entirely possible that she did but doesn’t want to bring it up to Taichi and the others because of how much baggage would be associated with it compared to, well, the rest of her early childhood life with Morphomon; given the time dilation that was in play prior to 1999, it’s very likely any adventure she could have gone on would have been lost to Digital World history. (That said, given that Morphomon doesn’t seem to have any ties to Holy Beast lines, a group of 4+ Chosen distinct from her and the other Tokyo Chosen Children by necessity would have to be from 1998 or early 1999.) She does, at the very least, seem to have evolved Morphomon at least once, given that she cites “loss of the ability to evolve” as part of the process of partnership dissolution when explaining it to the others (and it’s implied very heavily she only has her own personal experience to work with). But if Menoa’s parents were sufficiently supportive, it’s possible they might have had no problem with Menoa having a large and very cute butterfly friend -- especially if Menoa didn’t go on some grand adventure and wasn’t even in danger anyway.

We also learn a bit more about the Yagami siblings in Adventure episode 21, which takes place on August 1, 1999, and that Hikari has been witnessing the increased Digimon contact with the human world (part of a long, ongoing process of the Digital World slowly coming into more concrete contact with the human world) for quite a while now, but because it isn’t very “clear” contact yet, she’s the only one who can see them. She’s been trying to tell people for a long time, but nobody believed her -- and that’s the only reason she kept quiet about it.

There’s also another interesting line in this episode, when Taichi considers never returning to the Digital World and staying home with Koromon -- it seems that he intends to be straightforward with Koromon’s presence and not hide him from his parents! At worst, he simply thinks his mom might think Koromon to be a nuisance -- but not something he has to entirely keep a secret, meaning he also trusts his parents to be open-minded about a weird pink talking creature.

The Odaiba fog incident

The “Odaiba fog” incident refers to the events of August 3, 1999, spanning Adventure episodes 35 to 54, when Vamdemon covered Odaiba in fog and launched a bunch of mass kidnappings in the search for the eighth Tokyo Chosen Child, put a large amount of adults to sleep, was defeated by the Chosen Children, and eventually was followed by a projection of the Digital World in the sky, resulting in the surrounding witnesses observing the eight Tokyo Chosen Children and their partners rising into the sky, returning to the Digital World, and defeating the Dark Masters and Apocalymon.

Unlike the Hikarigaoka incident, this was not something that could be easily ignored. People in Odaiba saw, in vivid daylight, a bunch of strange monsters kidnapping them and stuffing them in Tokyo Big Sight. The Digital World appearing in the sky, Digimon falling out of them, and freezing anything they touched happened all over the world. Ultimately, this was not the kind of thing you could just sweep under the rug!

Daisuke, Iori, and Michael recount their experiences with this in 02 episode 14, and Spring 2003 and the Adventure novels depict this as a formative experience for Daisuke wanting to become someone strong enough to protect others. The kids’ parents in Tokyo saw their kids fighting in the sky (in fact, it’s likely everyone did, but only the parents were aware of the actual identities of the kids up there, considering it wasn’t like the sky gives you much of a close-up view). And, of course, we had our “intrepid reporter” Ishida Hiroaki, who was insistent on covering these incidents in Adventure episode 35 before he even knew his sons were involved, and Takaishi Natsuko, who, as per 02 episode 38, ended up tacking this on her list of Digimon incidents to investigate.

So by the conclusion of this incident, it is pretty safe to say the populace knows that Digimon are a thing. Of course, they still haven’t made sense of all of it, and everyone (including Hiroaki and Natsuko themselves) is missing some key details, but the fact that these monsters are A Thing That Exist is hardly a secret. In fact, this is made pretty explicit in 02 episode 39:

The governments of every country most certainly did not just see that whole incident and decide “well, that’s nothing to worry about” -- they immediately went ahead and started doing military research on the Digimon! But Gennai and his fellow Agents figured out pretty quickly that very bad things would happen if the Digimon became public knowledge and government militaries started exploiting them, so they secretly wiped away data regarding Digimon in order to hide their existence.

Note that this does not mean they wiped everyone’s memories -- they’re not that all-powerful -- but merely made it so that anytime anyone tried to do organized research on Digimon, poof! -- the info would just magically vanish. Of course, that doesn’t stop pen-and-paper work, and, again, it also did not stop reporters like Takaishi Natsuko or Ishida Hiroaki from doing investigations into everything from a journalistic perspective, nor humanities scholars like Takenouchi Haruhiko or Kido Shuu from taking an interest in Digimon. And, of course, it’s not like you can just wipe human memory that saw all of that happening! But it sure does put a major slowdown on attempted organized research of Digimon to the extent of being easily able to do the kinds of things Gennai and the Agents feared, because it makes it significantly harder to exchange info or collect anything.

Which of course leads to...

The events of 02

The Tokyo Chosen Children got a “break” of sorts after the events of Adventure, and for the most part they didn’t have to think too hard about how to deal with their Digimon in regards to society, especially since they were separated from them. Then, in April 2002, Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori get their partners, and they, Takeru, and Hikari become lucky enough to be able to bring their partners back and forth between the real world and Digital World. With their partners small enough to be passed off as plushes, and no Digimon battles taking place in the real world at this time, the kids choose to keep their Digimon activities a secret from their parents.

At this point, it should be pointed out that this was not actually strictly necessary in terms of keeping the Digimon from society -- especially on the part of the Adventure kids, whose parents already know they exist and certainly have not forgotten! In fact, this is made into a prominent scene in 02 episode 18, when Koushirou’s mother is surprised Tentomon is not there (even though there’s no indication a conflict is going on at the time), in contrast to Koushirou having just been worried about opening a gate in her presence.

In fact, Kizuna adds an important detail by showing us a newspaper clip from around 2002 (when Menoa was accepted into university), indicating that apparently the concept of a “Digimon partner” was well-recognized enough that Morphomon was openly in the newspaper clipping, accompanied by a caption identifying her as Menoa’s Digimon partner. (Kizuna having so much attention to detail with background lore that it even complies with the doubling-every-year principle, it’s not something you can easily pass off as a writer mistake.) Doing the math, 16 Chosen Children in 1999 means around 128 by 2002 (which also tracks with the approximate amount we see around the world in 02 episodes 40-42 and 50). That’s still a drop in the pond in terms of how much the global population truly understands this, but considering that there were reporters like Takaishi Natsuko and Ishida Hiroaki already on the case, it’s not too much of a stretch to think that the press and informational publications would have an idea.

So why did the kids still try so hard to keep the Digimon from their parents and society? A lot of it has to do with the way the kids make their plan to infiltrate the Kaiser’s base in 02 episode 18.

Prior to this point in the series, their fight in the Digital World had been an after-school affair, one that they were capable of hiding instead of having the truth presented up-front to their parents, whether they liked it or not. Starting in April 2002, the kids voluntarily chose to enter a territory war after school. Think about how they’d have to explain this to their parents -- “oh yeah, by the way, I befriended a mysterious monster and will now be going to another world after school to fight a territory war with even bigger monsters on a near-weekly basis” -- of course, most parents would start being obstructive and immediately put an end to that, and there would be so much they’d have to explain to them. In fact, the way the kids parade their Digimon around and try to use the “plushes” excuse instead of really making any decent attempts to hide them indicates they’re not really trying that hard to maintain a facade, just enough to not get awkward questions and people intervening with their actions. After all, if even incidents like the ones in 02 episode 9 can be safely passed off as “being over late at a friend’s place,” why not use that excuse?

So when they first start a real trip into the Digital World that may span multiple days (with Miyako being visibly out of place with this, a sharp contrast to her seniors being used to the idea of being “trapped” there for days on end), Iori says very explicitly that he doesn’t want to worry his family, and the discussion immediately shifts to how they’ll keep this from their families. Interestingly, when Daisuke suggests just lying about it, Hikari scolds him for doing so -- implying that it’s not like she (or the others) is even comfortable with that kind of lie, hence why they ultimately resort to having the seniors stage a camping trip so that the lie can at least be a bit less far-fetched.

But the fact that they can do this in the first place ultimately ends up being a luxury, because they can get away with this as long as the conflict is still in the Digital World. Eventually, we arrive at...

The Christmas 2002 incident

A lot happened on Christmas 2002, especially given the timezone stretch and the number of episodes it spanned, but this effectively sparked the point of no return where Digimon incidents were unavoidable and staring everyone in the face -- especially since it spanned multiple days. Dark Towers started appearing all over the world, wandering Digimon started appearing everywhere, Chosen Children around the world mobilized to round them back into the Digital World, Demon and his army invaded Tokyo, Oikawa kidnapped a large number of children, and eventually the battle with BelialVamdemon on New Year’s Eve ended up bleeding into the real world, with Chosen Children appearing en masse to help them defeat him.

During the course of the international Chosen arc, we do see that quite a few other kids have been hiding their Digimon from their parents -- indeed, not everyone is like Menoa, and especially if they’ve been involved in dangerous incidents or are very small children! Even Mimi tries to hide her involvement from her parents in 02 episode 10, despite them already knowing about the Digimon from the Odaiba fog incident, because -- as they say in the episode -- moving to the US was partially motivated by them wanting to get away from all of this, so, naturally, they’d prefer Mimi have nothing to do with it. But Takeru is comfortable enough to call his grandfather in to help, presumably deciding that he was trustworthy enough about it.

And, indeed, the first major break we see in the facade with the core cast’s parents is with Takeru’s mother Natsuko, who correctly deduces that something is going on and confronts Takeru about it -- to which he immediately does not attempt to cover up or deny, and admits without hesitation. Natsuko, in turn, decides to accept it without grilling him too much, deciding that she’ll trust in Takeru to handle this (presumably, especially after seeing him handle quite a lot even at the young age of eight). At the end of 02 episode 45, Ken -- whose parents have seen so many horrors going on with him that the explanation of him engaging in dangerous monster battles would be more of a comfort to them, because at least they’d be aware of what’s going on -- ultimately chooses to confide in his parents, leading to them and the rest of the Adventure kids’ parents actively choosing to support their kids in their fight over the course of episodes 46-48. Naturally, as much as they’d probably rather their kids not get engaged in dangerous things, they understand what this is and that it’s important, and at the very least want to support them as much as they can -- Koushirou’s mother laments in 02 episode 48 that she wishes she could do more besides just bring food!

02 episode 46 has a moment where Oikawa and Archnemon watch a TV program with people trying (very badly) to blame the recent incidents on a mass delusion -- the TV show itself is portrayed as a sort of trash gossip kind of special -- and Oikawa provides an explanation for the impasse of acknowledgment where people seem to be increasingly aware of Digimon but also not quite aware: things are undeniably happening, but people still aren’t quite ready to accept an explanation that borders on the supernatural. The entire concept of Digimon is a massive shake to the status quo, after all, so while certain investigative and curious people like Natsuko or Haruhiko are naturally more open-minded, and many parents are likely to pay closer attention when kids are involved, only slightly over a hundred Chosen Children (many of whom are still erring on the side of keeping it a secret) and a few reporters aren’t enough to really help people understand...

...but all things considered, it seems to be enough that the Chosen are now functionally giving up on hiding it at all!

By the time of episode 50, the situation has now escalated to the point where any member of the families of the Tokyo Chosen Children who wasn’t already aware of what was going on is now definitely aware, as they await their children’s return from the Digital World. Considering that Jun was already witnessing the return of dangerous things as early as 02 episode 38, and Iori’s grandfather Chikara discovers Armadimon’s existence in episode 47, it becomes rather important to point out that Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori failed to hide their partners’ existence and involvement in Digimon battles for any longer than eight months (April to December 2002). That is how flimsy the facade was. Again, they weren’t even doing that spectacular a job keeping their partners under wraps, Chikara discovered Armadimon by sheer accident just from Armadimon being too big and being unable to control his hunger, and, ultimately, it really is pretty hard to conceal the existence of a living creature constantly accompanying you everywhere.

The aftermath of 02

Well, firstly, there were definitely other things that happened right after the events of 02 that would be pretty hard for people to deny. For instance:

The Internet being the Internet, the incident in Our War Game! could have potentially been passed off as some kind of graphics stunt. But the 2003 Diablomon/Armagemon incident? Nah. People saw that one, and even actively participated in that one! In real life!

With that, as much as Oikawa claims that people are too stubborn to accept changes to the status quo and thus accept Digimon, ultimately, Spring 2003 makes it clear that the Christmas 2002 incident made enough of a fuss that the involved parties all got put on the spot by the public and media. This got to the point where the kids had a risk of their privacy being invaded, and had to be covered by their parents.

My mother, who followed the Hikarigaoka incident as a non-fiction writer, along with Sora-san’s father, are known today as “Digimon critics.” Although the two weren’t sure whether they appreciated their new titles or not, they accepted it and went from investigators to people who were most sought after... ...Thanks to [Hiroaki], we were saved from publicity. It’s sort of like… we’d like to keep our identities and the Digimon a secret. I don’t mean forever, when I say that, but the relationship between us and our partner Digimon is unique and other people probably wouldn’t understand that. For example, we can’t have people thinking that Digimon are slightly strange pets. If they do, then they won’t take us seriously either, and of course, the Digimon wouldn’t like that perception themselves. That’s why, until we get the general public to acknowledge Digimon and the Digital World for what they really are, we’d like to lay low. But in order for that to happen, someone must go out there to explain about the Digimon to others. It was both my mother and Sora-san’s father who accepted that role wholeheartedly. We told the two everything we knew, and they spoke for us to the TV, newspapers, and magazines.

Being people directly connected to the children and understanding of their position, but also in media and publicity positions, Natsuko, Hiroaki, and Haruhiko took on the jobs of advocating for Digimon and explaining their part to the world, while also deliberately acting as go-betweens so that the kids could maintain their privacy. But nevertheless, at this point, the incident in 2002 was such a major thing that it basically was a turning point for people realizing that Digimon exist and are a major presence, and starting to grill informed parties about the details (and, technically, getting those details from the kids themselves, speaking through said media outlets). Hikari also starts working on a “surprisingly useful” informational video for new Chosen Children confused about having a partner -- encouraging them to contact them for help -- and it is also revealed that Shuu, Miyako’s sisters, and Jun had all just gotten partners, meaning that the issue was now starting to become significantly more relevant to their families.

Kizuna also drops an interesting detail about what happened right after 02, or, rather, right after 2002:

The articles describing Menoa’s Digimon research team have titles that indicate that this is one of the first major Digmon scientific research efforts in the world, indicating that, shortly after Menoa’s admission into university and establishing herself there, she began to open up the field of Digimon academic research (her declared major beforehand had been “biology”, presumably the closest she could get to studying Digimon when such a topic didn’t formally exist yet). This is significant because it means that Gennai and the Agents had finally dropped the embargo on Digimon organized research, since it presumably would have been bad for Menoa’s data to vanish without warning -- and, indeed, it makes sense that they would allow for Menoa’s research team to proceed, since Menoa is a Chosen Child herself who has a vested interest in studying Digimon for the greater good and advocating for them in the same way Haruhiko is.

It also provides potential context as to why Menoa may not have been involved much in Digimon fighting and battles in the past but was chosen as a Chosen Child anyway -- Koushirou describes the definition of a “Chosen Child” as such in Two-and-a-Half Year Break:

Having a partner Digimon isn’t really that special. Being a “Chosen Child” means… to cease the hostilities that break out and inconvenience the Digital World. In order to do so, that child gains a partner Digimon faster than another.

While it’s not necessarily in terms of aggressive fighting, a bright and intelligent child like Menoa being chosen to “fight” in the sense of using her intellect to study more about Digimon and help advocate for them seems like a fitting way to fulfill this role in her own way. But, alas, as Gennai and Homeostasis and the Holy Beasts couldn’t necessarily predict what happened to Ichijouji Ken and his fall into becoming the Kaiser, they didn’t seem to be able to predict Menoa’s unfortunate fate and downfall...

Kizuna and 2010

Again, To Sora citing the number of Digimon partners to be over 30,000 by 2010 correctly tracks with the “doubling every year” principle, so it’s probably prudent to assume it’s still been applying over the years. 30,000 is certainly a lot, but it’s not exactly a huge chunk of the global population -- especially since said 30,000 are spread out all over the world, and it’s hard to say how many of them would even live in Japan, let alone Tokyo. It’s a big enough number that Koushirou and Miyako now need to maintain a whole network of Chosen Children (Hikari’s video presumably helped with that), but there are still a lot of unknowns, like the still uncharted territory of the partnership dissolution phenomenon.

Nevertheless, what we see in Kizuna is what you’d probably expect from a society that has now had eight more years to properly digest the existence of Digimon and Digimon incidents. This is most starkly demonstrated in the opening, when a waitress comes by to berate Agumon and Gabumon for making too much noise -- and that’s it, with no weirdness or being taken aback by their presence or existence, just telling them to calm down. The characters in the movie carry around and parade their Digimon quite openly in almost all walks of life, and others interact with them in a very normal manner. One of the credits scenes even shows Daisuke’s higher-up at vocational school being more annoyed at Daisuke’s fight with V-mon than he is at the fact V-mon is there. A newspaper article from early in the movie also correctly identifies Parrotmon and Greymon as Digimon (even if not their specific species), and it is merely treated as an incident rather than paying any particular attention to the fact that Digimon exist. The drama CD also indicates that Daisuke and co. are at the point of sneaking their Digimon into a karaoke bar because said bar has enough awareness of Digimon to charge them admissions fees!

There’s another interesting minor detail in that Palmon, Tailmon, and Patamon are depicted on digital cameras without any static interference. In Adventure and 02, it was impossible to catch them on digital camera in the real world, because, as per Adventure episode 39 and 02 episode 33 (among others), trying to do so would cause nasty static interference and ruin the attempted photo/recording. (This is presumably why Menoa’s photos with Morphomon seem to be film photos.) But for a society where the presence of Digimon is becoming more and more expected, and digital cameras are naturally becoming more commonplace, it would be very bad if this continued to be a problem -- so it makes sense that, by 2010, technological research would have figured out a way around that.

Obviously, not everyone has a Digimon yet, and it’s not like everything in the world has accounted for the assumption people will be walking around with partners -- after all, Taichi’s thesis still involves having to help advocate for Digimon partners and the fact that many people are still skeptical about them. But nevertheless, people are not surprised or perturbed by them anymore, and when something does happen with them, they’re relatively accepting of them. Again, 30,000+ is not exactly a lot to the extent that the entire population has a partner, but with the doubling-every-year principle in play, it seems like society is already well on its way to adjusting to their increasing presence and the eventual point in 2027-2028 when everyone will be expected to have one.

[breitzbachbea]

📓?? 👀

Okay, okay, okay, so -

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

The Ancient Olympics AU (which I talked about with @crispyliza )

This AU came into being after I relistened to the "The Ancient Olympics" episode of the history/comedy podcast "You're Dead To Me". It had the interesting information that a lot of Olympic winners actually came from Sicily & South Italy! So naturally I began to wonder what might have happened if my Sicilians ended up in Olympia ...

Dramatis Personae:

- Michele Vento (APH Sicily, my OC) as Trainer of the Bontade Twins - Marco & Lorenzo Bontade (Human OCs of mine) as Athletes from Syracuse - Herakles Karpuzi (APH Greece) as Athlete from Athens - Timothea Simonides (Human OC) as Herakles' Trainer - Omar Simonides (Human OC) as ... Good question? Co-Trainer to Thea ig

The Happenings™:

- Lorenzo and Marco want to compete in the upcoming Olympics as runners. Michele,probably a distant relative to them who lives close, becomes their trainer.

- The Sicilians roll up to Olympia, most likely a few days early because travelling is an adventure in these days and it doesn't hurt to have a few extra days to get accustomed to the terrain.

- Michele also definitely loses the Bontade twins 10 minutes after arriving at the sanctuary bc he wasn't looking for 0.5 seconds. So now he lost his boys at a place that currently contains approximately half of Magna Graecia.

- The reason he wasn't paying attention? Some athletes were preparing themselves nearby, bucknaked of course. Amongst them Herakles. Michele has always been a sucker for strong arms and legs, so that plus Herakles' beautiful face has him swooning from the get go.

- After he recollects his twins, they spend the next few days training, as do the other athletes, which is when Herakles notices Michele's looks.

- Christina (crispyliza) had the galaxy brain idea that Herakles intentionally flirts with Michele to sabotage the Bontades success at the games. It's an idea that he comes up with together with the Simonides - to be completely fair, it was probably Timothea's. Omar: "My, looks like you've got a fanboy." Herakles: "And what a pretty one at that." Timothea: "He seems to be a bit shy about it, though. Or maybe he's actually after those twin brothers?" (They figure out he's the Bontades trainer) Timothea: "Oh, he's a trainer! Pretty sucky at his job though if he's oogling the competition so much." Omar: "All the better for us, though." Timothea: -oil lamp ignites over her head bc light bulbs aren't invented yet-

- While we're at the Simonides: This was before it was mandatory for everyone to be naked, so Timothea managed to sneak into the games by posing as a man. Omar helps her with it, since he's trans and thusly got experience. Christina also had the hilarious idea of them having fake beards, which is just, YES. Timothea definitely cut her hair and they made whatever beard is in fashion in Athens at the time out of them. Their mother Natasa used to be a famed winner of the Heraea, the woman's games also held in Olympia.

- So let the games GreSic flirting begin

- The Problem: Michele doesn't want his boys to think he's betraying them for a rival athlete. He also really wants Herakles to rail him. The Solution: Find ways to be sneaky and secretive about it so the twins don't have to find out. Here is one of the possible scenarios I had for this: "When I first thought about this, I also had this scene in my head. Idk how accurate it works, bc it involves a tent and in the ydtm episode they didn't mention how people were housed during the games. (Like, I am sure there were guest houses, the temples probably offered some places to sleep, both of that but in upscale fancy for all the rich and important people attending yadda yadda.) Do you know that trope(?) when someone has sex but is trying to hide it? That. Just Michele sticking his head out of the tent, clutching at the fabric to keep everything else closed. Tells his twins, who looked for him, he is kind of busy rn. Tries is best to hide the fact of what is actually happening and to make them leave. It works. Kind of. Because as soon as they are gone, Michele sighs with a :| look and tells Hera to stop. "But why?" "Because you would have to nail every corner of this tent down and then they'd still find a way to spy!" Which is exactly what the twins ARE doing. They are trying their best to get an unnoticed peak from one place of the tent. But because it has to be subtle, all they get to see is feet and they either don't hear them or don't recognize Herakles' voice. I don't think he is the person to go out of his way to pick on people or pick fights in general, so they probably haven't had much interaction. So Michele smoothes out his chiton annoyed and leaves the tent, to then just stomp around enough for the twins to notice him and pretend they weren't doing what he knew they were doing."

- One day however, Marco & Lorenzo are missing their trainer and can't find him. They run into Thea & Omar, who are missing their athlete. Hm. Weird. Wonder what's that all about :)

- They end up catching Michele and Herakles in the act, just out there somewhere underneath a tree, which, naturally, makes the Bontades VERY upset. Lorenzo: "What do you think you are doing?!" Omar, in his head: 'Herakles, obviously.' Marco: "He's the COMPETITION, Michele!" Both: "You've left us all alone for THAT?!" Since the Simonides were in on the whole thing, they're not surprised just disappointed that Herakles vanished without a heads up. "Well, that ain't sprinting practice."

- The most hilarious thing is that could not even tell you who wins the race. I didn't even think about that part until yesterday. I'm kind of particular to the thought that it's somewhat of a photo finish with the three of them, but the twins come out on top. Since there can only be one winner, they flippantly let one of them be chosen by the equivalent of a coin toss. So technically, either Marco or Lorenzo has won, but they keep both parading around with the wreath and insist that the inscription to them mentions them both as winners. Now, if they got their way is another story, I didn't read any academic articles on this at. all.

- Second place is as good as last in the Ancient Greek world, but Herakles takes the loss in stride. Timothea is probably the one who's most upset. Marco: "Hah, so all your flexing - " Lorenzo: "and all your fucking for nothing in the end!" Michele: "Hey, I'd like to think I'm a reward in and of myself, not an obstacle."

Sequel Bait:

- Back home in Siracusa, Michele gets asked if he doesn't want to train his cousins, too. The ones from Neapolis. The ones Michele can't stand. However, his mother talks him into it and he agrees. Extra funny because Lovino & Feliciano were also talked into it by THEIR parents. So Michele spends the next four years butting heads with Lovino, knowing fully well their mother will rip his head off if they don't do well. Lovino is of course hiding his giant insecurities about disappointing his loving father & mother behind snark. Michele will arrive at Olympia with four athletes in two this time and looks like he aged 40, not 4 years from all the stress.

- Herakles is no competition this time, though! He wants to try his hand at wrestling this year. However, very quickly after his arrival, he butts heads with a fellow wrestler from one of the Greek colonies in Asia minor. Only thing's more annoying than his big mouth, which he shares with his wrestling buddy, are probably the flirtations coming out of it & Herakles can't wait to show him his place. (Yes, I do know that the Turkish people came into the area that is modern day Turkey far, far later, he should be of another ethnicity [and he gotta be Greek to participate, anyways] but. Is any of you really going to deny me Herakles and Sadık wrestling, bucknaked, covered in oil? I'd hope the fuck not.)

[hotchley]

so why can’t you see (you belong with... each other?)

@whoreforthebauteam I don’t know if you want to be tagged in every chapter, but it was your present, so I am, I hope that’s okay!!

I take back what I said last time, this is my favourite scenario.

This is stupid, wildly inaccurate, probably an insult to every dance teacher that has ever walked the planet and also... just really stupid. But I had fun writing it, it’s almost 11:30pm, I’m tired and yeah.

We’re going with it. Ignore any errors and lack of continuity, I wrote most of this whilst fasting and literally just wanted to get it done so I can work on mr scratch

Erm, updates will probably be even worse after this because I have exams coming up and the next thing is completely... I don’t have any ideas, but yeah- just a heads up

previously: part one , part two , part three

read on ao3!

Chapter Four: Attempt Three- Penelope Garcia

Penelope Garcia loved love, in every single one of its forms. Her unfailing belief in love and its goodness was one of the things that defined who she was. It let her look at screens filled with horrors and was one of the biggest reasons for her to smile.

She loved the romantic love she had for Marissa. She loved the way Derek looked at Spencer when he thought nobody was watching him. She loved the platonic love JJ had for Hotch, and the way she would slip him chocolates when he seemed more pale than usual. She loved the love of a father Aaron had for Spencer, even though neither had experienced it properly.

She loved the ways in which people found love, and how they clung to it. She loved the way it made people smile and the things they were willing to do for it.

Which was why breaking up with Kevin had been the best decision about love she ever made. Because Kevin did not love her in the way that she deserved. And when she walked away from him one last time, she had felt relieved. Not sad, or angry. Relieved.

JJ and Emily had been ecstatic when she'd turned up at their apartment with a bottle of wine. They hadn't liked Kevin much, they thought he was a bit dodgy and not worth her time, but because she had seemed happy and it was easy to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't being a creep, they'd refrained from saying anything too obvious. 

That same evening, she had phoned Derek and Spencer, who also then dropped their plans and they ended up having an impromptu party on a work night because she was finally free of Kevin and his existence.

When they turned up the next day, slightly hungover, Hotch had seemed like a disapproving parent- they'd exited the elevator with groans and complaints, Penelope massaging her forehead- and immediately gone silent when they realised he was standing there, holding a file, scowl looking slightly harsher than usual.

"It's lovely of you to join us. In the future, if you're going to be running three hours late, please inform either me or Rossi. Hell, tell Strauss. We've had people trying to track you down for the past hour and a half. Poor Anderson looked like he was going to resign from the FBI, and his face is never going to be the same after the frown lines you gave him," he had said, voice completely even.

"Hotch we're really sorry, we genuinely did not mean to cause such a big problem-" JJ had started, the first to recover.

He gave them one of his small, secretive smiles that seemed to light up his entire face and soften his eyes. "I'm joking. Everyone's fine. But seriously, please do tell us, we were beginning to worry. Is everyone okay though? It's not like you five to all be late on the same day."

Spencer looked between Penelope and Emily, who were smirking at each other, whilst JJ and Derek sighed but glared at the two mischief causers, warning them to not give away too much.

"I broke up with Kevin," Penelope blurted out.

Hotch's smile faded, and a look of concern settled over his features. "Oh, Penelope. Are you okay? Do you need some time off? You have lots of leave, I can clear it now if you'd like me to, there's no problem."

She started laughing. "Sir, we were having a party. I was never fully happy with him and breaking up with him was like- it was like coming into the office after a very annoying person was stuck with me during a case and finding that my handsome Unit Chief has sent me flowers."

Hotch seemed secretly proud that Penelope had broken up with Kevin because he had also never been a big fan of him, a fact that he had never really kept secret. When she mentioned the flowers he had sent her, many years ago, his jaw dropped.

"You never-"

"I wanted to let you think I didn't know. Now, shall we go?"

"Of course. Dave will probably want to hear about your reactions to my speech." When he saw how shocked they all looked, he continued. "It wasn't my idea!"

And Kevin had been completely forgotten by all of them. 

Three months later, Penelope had met Marissa. As cliche as it was, they met a coffee shop. Their orders had been mixed up- she'd ended up with a flat white instead of the new toffee flavoured latte she had wanted to try- and neither had realised until it was too late. 

When she'd gone back the next day, the barista had handed her a coffee without her even placing an order. She'd tried to tell them that she hadn't asked for it, but they had simply smiled at her, then pointed at Marissa, who had waved her over. Said that she wasn't a big fan of toffee, but she thought the pretty woman's boldness was something she wanted to be too, and if Penelope was willing to go on a walk with her.

One thing led to another, and a month later, they were officially dating. Penelope had never been happier in a relationship. Marissa's sarcasm and dry sense of humour balanced out her brightness and inappropriate jokes, but it wasn't just that made them compatible. It was everything else too. They just fit. And when Penelope stared into her eyes, still so mesmerised by them almost seven months later, she could see a future that would've never been able to have with Kevin.

Marissa was a dance teacher. Primarily contemporary and ballet, but she was thinking about branching into ballroom dancing, and it was exactly that fact that sparked Penelope's idea. Her original idea had involved flash mobs and individual confessions of love, but she also wanted to respect that Hotch enjoyed his privacy. And that he didn't like a fuss to be made of him, ever, even when it really was needed.

She didn't tell the others that she was planning anything, otherwise they would've started asking and it was such a good idea that she just wouldn't have been able to keep the knowledge to herself. It wasn't anything bad, she just didn't want to tell them and have it fall through because Marissa wasn't able or comfortable with doing it.

It was date night when her plan began. She had taken Marissa ice-skating, which had been an incredible experience and something that always made her feel like she was flying. Apparently some of the other people had taken some photos of them, holding each other and laughing at their own antics, so she was waiting for them to download. Marissa was laughing at something a child was doing, sipping her hot chocolate as she tried to warm herself up.

And Penelope knew, it was then or never.

"Sweetness, remember when you said you wanted to start teaching ballroom?" she asked suddenly.

Marissa tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, but I still think it might be risky, because I've never been taught how to teach it and I don't want to mess it up."

Penelope took her hands and Marissa smiled. In some way, it reminded her of the way Hotch smiled- small and subtle, but absolutely everything to witness. 

"If you want to do it, then you should. And I've seen you teach before, there's no way you could mess this up. But, and this is completely up to you, I have an idea. It could benefit both of us."

“Both of us? What is this plan?”

“You need to practice on someone to gain some confidence. So practice on my team. They’ll be delighted to help you, and then we can all spend more time together. They really like you. Much more than anyone else I’ve introduced them to. They’ll say yes.”

“Would they? It would be amazing if they did.”

“Of course they will.”

“Penelope, I love you so much. Thank you for doing this. I’m confused though. What do you get out of this?”

“The opportunity to go down in history as the best Cupid the world has ever seen.”

"What on earth- actually don't tell me now, I'll end up spilling your plan to the people involved," Marissa said, snuggling closer. Penelope pressed a kiss to her hair, smiling at the thought of spending more time with her girlfriend and winning the bet.

The next day, she went and sat with everyone in the bullpen, balancing her laptop on her knees as she worked. The rest of the team were working on individual consults, but Derek and JJ had decided to spend some time with their partners instead of just sitting in their offices. Rossi was doing his work from his office, and Hotch was in a meeting with Strauss and the Director. He hadn't seemed happy about it.

"Guys, what would you do if I said I can get Hotch and Rossi together but I need you to come to Marissa's practice run of a ballroom dancing lesson in order for it to work?" she asked, not even looking up from her screen.

"Start from the beginning," JJ said.

"Nope, because that will ruin my plan. Would you?" 

“I mean, if Spencer didn’t mind, I would go. Any excuse to dance with the prettiest boy I know,” Derek said, a small and loving smile plastered across his face.

Spencer looked down slightly, cheeks tinged with a blush. “If it’ll help the two of them be happy, then fine, yes. But only if you promise to not make any comments if I’m not good at it.”

“Spencer, of course we won’t judge, dancing can be quite hard. And it’s not going to be a super serious session, it’s a trial run for Marissa and my attempt at getting them together, so it’s not the end of the world. JJ? Emily?”

“If Will can take Henry for the day, then sure, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to make it, is that okay?” JJ said, already pulling her phone out to see whether or not he was available. He responded moments later, saying it would be fine, and Penelope smiled.

“Sure. I’m excited to see whether your plan can top mine,” Emily said.

Penelope grinned. “Great! I’ll see you all at ten on Saturday then. Now I just need to get the two of them to agree…”

As she headed up to Rossi’s office, the four remaining team members all gave each other identical looks of fear. They knew that, realistically, Penelope’s plan couldn’t be that wild or dangerous, but they also knew how fiercely determined she could be when there was something she wanted to achieve. They also knew how adamant she was that everybody would find love, they just needed to be ready and willing. So they really had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

They assured themselves they would be fine, because they weren’t the ones being set up. And then they immediately felt extreme amounts of relief at the fact that Penelope had never once turned her match-making skills to them.

Rossi was working on the paperwork he’d stolen from Hotch’s office when Penelope knocked, popping her head around the door. The open blinds meant the team were able to watch through the window, and they did. They weren’t profiling, they were just observing for a bit of fun and to try and see whether or not they’d be able to get any more information from their exchange.

“Sir, what are your opinions on ballroom dancing?” she asked, not even bothering with hello.

“It’s okay. I don’t have particularly strong opinions on it either way. Why?” Rossi responded.

“Because Marissa would like to find out whether or not she would be able to teach ballroom dancing, so I have offered us up as guinea pigs for her to test on but she obviously can’t just do it with two couples, so I was wondering whether you’d be willing to come or if I needed to ask Anderson,” she said, tone not indicating any sort of ulterior motive whatsoever.

“If she’s teaching, you would need to be her partner so she could demonstrate. Who exactly is my partner?” 

“Hotch of course. Sir, he could never say no to you. He loves you too much- us. He loves us too much. To say no. Or to deny us something small like this,” she said, realising as she spoke that it was too much, too soon.

Rossi went to deny that Hotch loved him- in any way, not just the one he’d found himself thinking about as he’d washed the singular plate and singular wine glass the previous night- but found that he couldn’t. Because Penelope was right. In some way, Hotch loved every single member of the team, in a way that Max Ryan and Jason Gideon would never have been brave enough to do.

It filled him with pride, a little sadness, and something close to admiration that he was too much of a coward to properly define. And then he realised that he had gone too long without speaking, because Penelope was beginning to shift uncomfortably.

“Sir? Are you okay? You kinda… disappeared for a moment there,” she said.

“I’m okay, just thinking. Of course I’ll tag along to the dance lesson, if only to give Morgan a few funnier nightmares. When is it?”

Penelope grinned, so wide and so beautifully, it almost hurt. He pushed the thought from his head. She was never going to lose her faith in the beauty of people. Not whilst she was able to find the beauty in everything, and not whilst she smiled without any shame or hesitance.

“Saturday and ten, unless we get a case, and if we do, we’ll sort it out after. Does that work for you?”

Even if hadn’t, he would’ve completely rearranged his career to make it. He didn’t just want to give Derek some funny nightmares. He also wanted to spend time with the team, and watch Hotch morph into Aaron as he smiled unabashedly and was dressed in casual clothes- he needed to get a grip. 

“Of course it does. Thank you for inviting me,” he said, hoping that would end the conversation.

It did. When Garcia closed the door behind her, he groaned, then buried himself in the paperwork. Nothing would distract him more than trying to come up with a real justification for the BAU technology budget (Aaron’s preliminary notes just said: they don’t have to deal with a pouting Penelope.)

She just gave a thumbs up to the team, then went back into the bullpen. As she set about making her own tea, she realised that Hotch had returned from his meeting. It hurt a bit, to see him look so exhausted and disheartened. He always was, when he returned from those meetings with the Director, even with Strauss acting as a buffer between the two of them. So she made him one of her special coffees- with the added caramel and hazelnut milk- before heading up to his office, not bothering to knock because he had spent so long trying to convince them all it was fine to not knock that she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Oh hello Garcia. Did you need something?” he asked.

She set the coffee down and took the seat opposite. “Not in the conventional way.”

He smiled at the drink, taking a single sip, and some of the light returned to his eyes. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Well you know Marissa right?”

“Of course I do, she’s lovely. Penelope, I really don’t think I’m the best person to come to if you need advice. Surely Derek or JJ would be better?”

“I don’t need advice silly,” she said with a smile, because her boss was just so good to all of them. “I need you to come to the dance studio on Saturday at ten because she wants to start teaching ballroom dancing and I’ve offered us up as test subjects.”

He blinked, and she realised how rude her demand had sounded.

“Only if you and Jack didn’t have plans and if you’re willing and actually able to of course,” she added hastily.

“Are you sure you want me there? I’m not… the best dancer, and I don’t want Marissa to be discouraged just because I have two left feet,” he said, looking slightly hesitant, but like he would say yes with a bit of encouragement.

“Sir, the worst of a dancer you are, the better. But I’ve saw you with Haley. You could give Derek a run for his money. There’s no pressure. I just wanted to ask because Derek, Spencer, Emily and JJ are acting as the other two couples. Rossi said he would come, but if you can’t make it-”

“Dave agreed?” Aaron cut in, meeting her eyes properly for the first time since they started talking. There was something behind the shock and slight glee that made her feel warm inside. She had been right- they both just needed a push.

“Yeah, he said the timing works for him. If it doesn’t for you-”

“No, it’s perfect. Jack doesn’t need to spend every waking moment with me, and he’s actually got a soccer camp that weekend, so I would’ve been in the apartment alone anyways. Of course I’ll come. It’s for you and Marissa after all,” he said, giving her the same smile usually reserved for Jack.

And Dave.

“Oh sir, thank you, thank you, thank you! Marissa is going to be so excited when I tell her! I promise you, even if it’s a disaster, you’ll have fun, and she will appreciate it more than you could ever imagine!”

“Penelope, it’s okay,” Hotch said with a slight laugh. “I’m not doing anything that out there.”

“I know that. But you’re just a good boss. You always have been,” she said, getting up and going to the door.

Hotch blushed and looked down. “Penelope…”

“Yes?”  she asked, turning back.

“What does- what should I wear?”

She had to bite back a laugh, because there was her fierce Unit Chief, who had barely blinked when a gun was fired just to the left of his good ear, staring at her like she carried all the answers, with flushed cheeks, asking what he should wear to a dance lesson where the ulterior motive was to get him with his best friend. Not that he knew about that. 

“Anything that’s comfortable,” she said, then left.

Marissa was indeed very happy when she found out, and when Penelope watched her face break into a grin as she processed the knowledge, she realised that happiness didn’t come from a relationship, but sharing it was amazing.

By some miracle, no out of town cases crossed their desks, which meant Saturday morning saw them all at the dance studio, dressed in t-shirts and sweatpants, stretching so they didn’t pull a muscle.

Hotch had paled slightly as Marissa explained that one.

“Okay, so what I’m going to have you do is pair up, and face each other. First I’ll describe how you’re meant to position your arms, then you’ll try and do it, and I’ll correct you if you’re wrong. Then I’ll just need you to follow my lead- I’ll demonstrate with Penelope. We’ll go from there. Is that good with everyone?” she said, after everyone had stretched for an adequate amount of time.

“Of course,” Derek said. Spencer nodded, looking slightly nervous, but Derek noticed and immediately placed a hand on his back to try and soothe him. It worked. JJ and Emily also nodded. Rossi grinned, and Hotch seemed hesitant, but stood up nonetheless.

“Great, so if you could all just turn and face your partners,” Marissa said, grinning when she took Penelope’s hands to press a kiss to them.

Derek and Spencer snickered at each other, which set off JJ and Emily, but Dave wouldn’t quite meet Aaron’s eyes. He was too afraid of meeting his eyes. Those beautiful and caring brown eyes that always sparkled with love whenever he saw his son, or his former sister-in-law that had really been his sister ever since Haley first confessed to her about her crush on him, all those years ago.

“Dave, are you okay to lead?” Marissa asked, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, sure. Aaron is that okay?” he asked.

Aaron nodded, cheeks slightly flushed. “Course it is.”

“Great, so just place your arms… like this,” Marissa said, moving him slightly. It meant he was close enough to hear Aaron’s heartbeat. It was slightly erratic, and he frowned, wondering why. It wasn’t like him to be nervous about something like this.

“Okay, so ballroom dancing obviously covers a wide range of dance styles, so to keep things simple, we’re just going to a waltz. So hands where I’ve told you to put them- Spencer and Derek I am looking at you, and follow my instructions as best you can. We’ll go from there.”

Spencer laughed, whilst Derek pretended to be scandalised. Emily gagged, and Aaron couldn’t contain his laugh at their antics. It was the most beautiful thing Dave had ever heard, so fearless and carefree that it physically hurt him, and he was well and truly screwed. To try and move past the feeling in his stomach that he most certainly was not going to name, he placed his hands exactly where Marissa had told him, noting that Aaron’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. He told himself to not to read into it.

Which was funny, because Aaron was telling himself that he needed to get his heartbeat under control. That there was no deeper reason behind Dave’s refusal to meet his eyes. There was a completely reasonable explanation for the goosebumps that seemed to be spreading under his shirt, and there was no way he had been holding his breath without realising, only releasing it when Dave ran his hands down his arms.

“Okay, so person that’s leading, step this way,” Marissa instructed.

Dave did exactly as she said with no hesitation. Aaron flushed as the realisation that they were about to be dancing together, with all of their subordinates there to witness any failures. It was strange, but he felt like both Marissa and Penelope were watching him more intently than the others.

Dave had said everything would be fine, that there was nothing going on, but he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling forming in his stomach. The same feeling he instinctively got every time Jack appeared with glitter in his hands. He wondered when he started seeing the members of his team as children.

He also wondered how soon he’d be able to retire, now that more and more parallels between the qualified FBI agents who were trusted to carry weapons and talk down killers and his seven-year-old son were becoming clear.

“Where’s your mind gone?” Rossi asked, pulling him back into the moment.

Hotch stumbled slightly, but Dave’s arms were solid and firm around him, keeping him upright and leading him around their little area as though it was the most natural thing in the world to him.

“Nowhere interesting,” he said. Dave was always so smart, and everything he said had a purpose. If he knew Aaron was thinking about the younger members of the team as children, he’d never hear the end of it.

Dave stepped back, pulling Aaron flush against him as Marissa demonstrated exactly what they were meant to be doing. Aaron turned so Dave wouldn’t see the colour rise to his cheeks. It was beautiful to see the other members of his team, just having fun and enjoying themselves like there was nothing wrong in the world.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Even if nobody else does, I find that brain of yours fascinating, no matter what it is you’re coming out with.”

“I was just thinking about the team. And how far they’ve come. And how I have no idea when I became their pseudo-parent, but that it doesn’t fill me with fear anymore,” he confessed.

“You’ve come so far too. And you’ve always been like family to them,” Dave said. Family. Nothing more. Certainly not anything romantic.

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh. “If Max heard you say we were like a family-”

“He’d murder me and they’d never catch him. I know.”

“Guys you’ve done really well, and this has really helped me, so I think we’re good to call it a day now. We’ll just do some cool-down stretches and then you can all go back to normal and pretend this never happened. Unless you want to go for lunch. That’s also an option,” Marissa said with a slight laugh. 

“Lunch would be amazing, I’m starving,” JJ said.

Derek shrugged. “We don’t have any plans, do we, pretty boy?”

Spencer shook his head. “Also Marissa said she would try and show me that new magic trick, and lunch would be the perfect time to try and understand how it works.”

“Aaron?” Marissa asked.

From behind her, Emily and Derek cringed. It was stupid, but hearing Hotch be referred to as Aaron always felt weird. It didn’t matter whether it was Jessica, Erin, Marissa or Dave doing it, there was just something about their boss being known as anything but his nickname that felt like calling a parent their first name.

“If I won’t be intruding,” he said.

“Never!” Penelope exclaimed, grinning even wider when she realised that Dave’s hands were still on Hotch’s waist. She tapped Marissa on the shoulder, subtly gesturing to the sight. Marissa had very quickly realised what was going on, so a lot of what she had done was to try and aid the attempt.

“But before we do, Dave, do you mind if I use you and Aaron to demonstrate one last thing? It won’t take long, I just want to do it before we go,” she said.

Derek frowned, and Penelope let out a quiet gasp when she realised that Marissa didn’t really want to demonstrate something, she wanted to push them even closer than the morning already had. 

She was going to win the bet!

“Oh sure. Aaron, you mind being my partner one last time?” Dave teased.

“Never,” Aaron said, voice strangely vulnerable. Something flashed across Dave’s face, before he smirked and adjusted the way his hands were positioned. 

Marissa led them through a different type of waltz. Aaron stumbled and missed the steps a few times, but Dave carried him through flawlessly, and was so confident as he glided around the small studio, Aaron following him without a shadow of doubt because of the trust between them, that it was almost impossible to pick up on. 

“And Aaron, twirl into his arms!” Marissa shouted, as the music reached a climax and Dave let go of his one of his hands, forcing him to spin outwards. Her plan was for them to meet the others eyes, and see the love that everyone else had apparently picked up on, and do something about it.

What happened was slightly different.

Aaron overbalanced as he turned into Dave’s arms, which wouldn’t have been the end of the world. Unfortunately for everyone, at some point during the final dance, his laces had come undone. So not only did he overbalance, he stepped on the aforementioned undone lace. Which also would have been fine, if it had just been that, and that alone. But because it was combined with the overbalancing, he did not manage to meet Dave’s eyes and see something more than friendship reflected in them.

He did however, manage to make an absolute fool of himself as he fell to the ground, reflexes too slow to stop himself from hitting it face-first. The noise of pain he let out was enough to make Emily stop laughing at his misfortune.

Dave immediately crouched down next to him, gently turning him and shifting him into a sitting up position so they could check that he didn’t have a concussion or any other injuries.

“My face really hurts,” Aaron whined after blinking a few times, feeling more oriented.

“I mean you did hit the floor pretty hard,” Emily teased. When Penelope hit her arm, she pretended to look completely innocent.

“Aaron, I’m so sorry-” Marissa started.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t feel guilty. Besides, that was the most fun I’ve had without Jack in a while. I would definitely do it again, just with my laces actually tied properly. Dave, why are you looking at me like that?” he rambled.

“I think you’ve broken your nose,” Dave said, sounding nonchalant but panicking because he had no idea what he was meant to do in this situation.

“Oh,” was all Aaron said.

Morgan leapt into action the moment he processed the words. “Dave, get him to the hospital. They can make sure that nothing else is wrong and fix his face properly, without causing more damage. And you’re his proxy. Because it’s just a minor thing, the rest of us don’t need to be there, but we will all go for lunch so that we’re together if there’s any news. Okay?”

Everyone nodded, quickly gathering their things and departing. Before she left, Garcia gave her boss a kiss on the forehead, feeling terrible that things had gone downhill, but also grateful that he wasn’t mad, had ended up having fun, and that Marissa’s confidence didn’t seem too shaken.

Derek shook his head as he watched the women argue over something, whilst Marissa showed Spencer the magic trick she had promised him. How the bet had gone from the joke it had started as to this was beyond him, but he wasn’t blind. He had seen them dancing. They loved each other. It was just a matter of making them realise that it was romantic, not platonic.

An idea was forming, but until they got confirmation that Hotch- not Aaron because that was weird, no matter what Marissa said- was fine, he would put any and all thoughts about it to one side. He was a bit annoyed at himself for being such a romantic though. It meant he needed to actually come up with a decent plan.

Hotch did end up being fun. The doctors were- in Morgan’s words- fix his face without causing more damage. And whilst he passed their tests without any issues, they did decide to keep him in overnight, just to make sure he didn’t have any sort of delayed confusion or injuries.

Dave stayed until visiting hours ended. A fact that was not lost on the rest of the team.

Before he left, Aaron called out his name, and he turned.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for staying,” Aaron whispered.

“It wasn’t difficult to. It’s never been difficult with you,” he replied, wishing he could put it more eloquently, but he had no idea how to.

Aaron just smiled, wishing he could say something intelligent too, but he was tired and his head was killing him. “Have a nice evening Dave,” he settled on in the end. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Sweet dreams Aaron,” Dave said. It didn’t sound sarcastic, so Aaron smiled.

He dreamt of dances and double beds and drenched shirts, but throughout all of it, Dave seemed to be watching over him like a guardian angel, so the sleep he had was peaceful. Strange, but peaceful.

He would cling to that feeling of peace when he entered the office on Monday, because something was definitely going on.

Only it seemed like Derek was plotting. Aaron wasn’t sure how he felt about that. All Derek knew was that soon, the other members of the BAU would be buying him coffee and deeming him the best matchmaker of all time.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

You’re Never Helping Again (Indiana Jones x Plus Size History Professor Reader)

Plot: A follow up to ‘Let Me Help’ in which it's made apparently clear that Indy definitely overestimated his ability to teach the gendered nuances of Victorian Medical practice or something. All your students demand that you never let him teach one of their lessons again, He pretends that it went effortlessly and was the best lesson he's ever taught.

Character: Indiana Jones x Plus Size History Professor Reader

Requested by @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

PART TWO OF ‘Let Me Help’ 

Part of my Secret’s Out Saga (Plus Size History Professor Reader x Indiana Jones) series and part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

For once in your life, you listened to Indy and you did exactly what he instructed you too. You never liked following rules, especially when it came to men and boyfriend’s rules but you knew that he was right. You were running yourself into the ground and you needed to let yourself up for air, even if it was a few hours of self care.

You’d been in Indy’s apartment many times before, you stayed over multiple times during the week, but you’d never been here alone. You’d never let yourself in with a key before, you’d never kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket as though it were your apartment; you’d never even made yourself anything to eat here before, Indy always took care of that! It felt strange, extremely odd, that you were here in his apartment without him. It almost felt... exciting? He had said he was meaning to give you a key soon anyway... was this what it was like? A proper, long-term adult, serious relationship? You smiled to yourself as you explored his apartment, wanting to soak up everything whilst he wasn’t here. You’d never really had this before - never had anything this serious before. Men just never treated you the way he did. Men around here just weren’t... they weren’t like Indiana.

His living room was organised chaos. There was mess, like coffee cups lying on the table and on his desk and his jacket and shoes in a pile the end of the sofa, but the rest of it was organised chaos. Piles of papers stacked high and low, messy but organised. He had piles of essays to grade, dissertations to grade, books stacked, piles for his newest research papers; it was organised but it was chaos. His living room was exactly how you’d imagine it to be; brown and leather - that academia look. He had trophies and certificates on shelves, you smiled as you read over them, he was still young but my god, he had accomplished so much. He had replicas of artefacts on the walls and on the remaining shelves but as you looked, some of them looked a little too old and a little too perfect that you were sure it was the real thing. He never failed to surprise you.

You made your way to his bedroom, now this was your favourite part of his apartment. It was simple, not a lot in his bedroom. Four post brown wooden bed, messy bed (he was never one to make the bed in the mornings), wooden drawers and wardrobe. It was very basic but it was the little details that you loved. He had drapes around the bed, that usually remained tied up they were more for decoration, but he had told you the story of how he came to be in possession of them. When you glanced at them they just looked plain white with some dark embroidery but when you looked up close, you realised that it was writing all around the bottom of them. He’d told you that he’d been in India years ago and helped them get an artefact back and they’d given him these drapes which had ‘Indiana Jones; our hero’ in their native language all around it. You had laughed when he told you that, “Of course, you’re the only person I know that would have drapes singing your praises on them and get away with it.”

A photo in a frame was perched against his bedside cabinet. It was a picture of you, not you and Indy, no, just you. It was a picture of you reading a book whilst curled into his couch. It was a grainy photo, black and white and a little faded but he loved that picture. You’d never really liked it, the curls in your hair had come loose, your lipstick was all faded, your glasses were half way down your nose, you were in your pyjamas and could see all your lumps and bumps and yet, Indy loved it. You’d asked him why he loved it so much one day, he just smiled and said, “It’s just... you.” You placed the photo down before heading to his closet. You did have a bag of clothes here but who in their right mind would turn down the chance to steal one of his shirts?

You filled the bath and whilst you waited, you were reading his newest research paper. He had let you read the drafts but now, this was close to being the finished thing and you couldn’t help but want to read it. He never failed to amaze you with his academic talent, the knowledge that man had; the first hand experience this man had with so many cultures and artefacts, it blew you away every time. You’d finished reading just as the bath was ready, “Incredible,” you whispered as you stood to put it away back on his desk - you knew that if you kept it in the bathroom with you you’d somehow end up dropping it into the bath.

The bath was a perfect temperature, you were glad for it. Sometimes if a bath is too hot you get too stressed about trying not to lobster yourself that you don’t enjoy it and sometimes if you make it too cold... well, that’s just no fun, is it? You sunk into the warmth of the water, relishing in its soothing touches. You washed your hair, trying to detangle the mess of curls with your fingers as you let the soapy suds clean away all your worries.

Soon, you were out of the bath and padding around the kitchen trying to find something to eat. You’d put on one of Indy’s looser fitting shirts. It didn’t button over your stomach so you’d pulled on one of his stretchy t-shirts under it. You found leftovers in the fridge from the night before, homemade spaghetti and meatballs. You had been surprised when you found out that Indiana was a decent cook. You thought that with him being so busy teaching, writing and adventuring that he wouldn’t have a lot of time to cook for himself. Sure, he loved Chinese take out but he could whip up a decent meal.

It wasn’t long after you’d reheated the spaghetti that you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps. You poked your head out of the kitchen to see Indy taking his jacket off and taking his glasses off, “How you feeling?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen with you.

“A lot better,” you admitted, “thank you... Really, Indy, thank you.” He smiled bashfully as you thanked him, “I hope my students weren’t too wild for you.”

He shook his head, “One of the best lessons I’ve ever given actually,” he said quickly... too quickly.

“Yeah?” You asked with a frown, “cause it was going to be a pretty full on lesson about Victorian medical practice, that can get quite tricky especially when we bring gender into the equation-” He cut you off.

“You don’t think I could handle it?” Indy asked, unusually defensive.

“Of course you could, Indy,” you rolled your eyes, “I was merely saying that sometimes even I find teaching Victorian medical practice hard going, there’s just a lot and I know my students, I’ve trained them to question everything so that they know and understand every single detail.”

Indy raised his eyebrows, “Oh I know they question everything... Believe me, I know.” You eyed him suspiciously but he seemed eager to drop the subject and he’d already done so much for you today that you just shrugged and passed him a plate of spaghetti.

The rest of the night was spent with you going over the research you had and what you still didn’t have sources for. Indiana proved to be very helpful. He had hundreds of books, some in shelves, some scattered around, and he was able to find the sources and missing pieces of information that you needed. It didn’t take long until you had finished your first draft. You beamed as you put the pen on the desk, “I’m finished. I did it!” Indiana was right there beside you, giving you a kiss on the forehead, and singing your praises, “I couldn’t have done it without you, Indy,” you whispered as he congratulated you, “Thank you.” 

It seemed a wise choice to take the rest of the night off after that. Yes, you were aware that you had papers to grade and dissertation drafts to sift through but you could get to them tomorrow. Tonight, Indy had better plans for you. He was going to help you relax with something a little more intimate and pleasurable than grading papers.

The next morning, you’d used some of your spare clothes that you left at Indy’s to get dressed and found him in the kitchen with two mugs of coffee waiting. You ate a small breakfast with him, talking about your lesson for the day, “You might want to go over yesterday’s lesson again with your class,” Indiana said nonchalantly, “Some of your students didn’t really fully understand and I ran out of time.”

You narrowed your eyes but nodded anyway. He didn’t know that your students would tell you exactly what happened yesterday so you let him believe that he was safe for a while longer.

You felt great. You felt like the weight had been lifted off of you shoulders and you were refreshed and well-rested. It just showed you how much having someone help you out benefited you. You couldn’t thank Indy enough, you just appreciated it so much; that he would help you out like that. His sweet gestures always made you feel like the luckiest woman alive.

With your lesson plans and papers in hand, you walked into your class to see all of your students already there, “Class doesn’t start for another forty five minutes!” You frowned, “What’s going on?”

“Thank god you’re back!” One of the girls, Sarah, said with a huff, “You are never letting Dr Jones teach us again!” 

You put everything on your desk and sat in your chair, “Why?” You asked tentatively, “What happened?”

“He had no clue, Professor!” A boy at the back told you, “First twenty minutes started out strong but as soon as we started asking questions, he just rambled and could not figure anything out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as they told you more about what really happened. Poor Indy. He had tried, he really had tried but he was just not prepared for the inquisitive nature of your students, “He was getting so annoyed that we asked so many questions,” another girl said, “after about an hour of his rambling, he eventually handed us out textbooks and told us to read in silence for the rest of the time.”

Wiping your eyes for the tears of laughter, you took a breath, “Well, Dr Jones really helped me out yesterday and he at least tried to teach you, that’s more than what some people would do. I apologise that I wasn’t here though.”

“Professor, please promise that he’ll never teach us again. Promise us.”

This started your hysterical laughter again, “I promise.”

You couldn’t wait to see Indiana at lunch. As always, he was waiting outside of your class to walk you to his where the two of you would eat lunch, “I went over everything again and they all seem to understand a lot better now,” you said, trying to not smile.

“Yeah?” He asked, clearing his throat, “Good.”

“They did tell me something about yesterday though,” you smirked as you walked into his classroom, “they never want you to teach again.”

And so, the jig was up, “They told you, huh?” You found yourself doubled over laughing as you recounted what they’d said to you, “Well, it’s not my fault they ask too many questions!” Indiana exclaimed, “Everything I said, they questioned!”

“Thank you for covering for me but you’re never helping me again.”

[nicetafuckinmeetcha]

I have some thoughts and ideas about my talentswap and I am gonna share them bc I haven’t got many other places to put it SO:

My thought process behind making Taka the Ultimate Idol was that idols work tirelessly to stay relevant and make sure their music and performances are perfect, since it’s a fierce industry that demands constant hard work to maintain the top spot. You don’t become the Ultimate Idol just by having an innate talent for singing and dancing. And since Taka values hard work over simple talent or genius I think that suits his personality quite well.

I also headcanon him with having a very pretty singing voice- though of course he’d go through vigorous vocal training that would make it even better-, and he works his ass off to become an incredible dancer (if it wasn’t obvious my inspiration for his design was Hoshi from SVT so of course he has to be a good dancer as an idol too.)

On top of that, while yes a lot of idols are saddled with debt from training, I think in this AU Taka strays from chasing a political career (though still remains heavily opinionated and informed in politics, of course) because he resented his grandfather’s path and wanted nothing to do with it, and instead became an idol because if he succeeded he would have both the wealth to repay his family’s debt and the platform to be outspoken on issues and educate younger fans. Not only that, he could also tackle the corruption within the idol system itself, which he would definitely be passionate about.

As for Mondo, this was a more self-indulgent talent swap, but it’s obvious that he takes his own personal styling very seriously. Like getting up every morning to make sure he has a well-styled pompadour and killer eyeliner? He’d be an incredible Ultimate Model. He’s got a pretty face and a great body so he would do wonders in the industry.

As for how he came to be one, it was Daiya’s doing. As much as Daiya holds pride in his gang, in this AU he wanted Mondo to pursue a different life, one beyond being a gang leader, and urged him to try out for modelling. And as much as Mondo idolized his brother and wanted to be just like him, he respects his advice and gives in to his suggestion and ends up getting in. This means of course that the race never happened, so Daiya is alive, and ends up leaving the gang like he was going to- to pursue his own life post-Diamonds.

Mondo and Taka also do NOT like each other, much like they initially don’t in the game. Mondo sees Taka as some stuck-up rich prick of an idol who thinks he’s better than everyone and Taka thinks Mondo is some cheap pretty boy who gets by on his looks alone for his talent. Any time they see each other in a magazine or advertisement they can’t help but scoff, and the media quickly catches on and run articles about their bitter rivalry often. Any time they happen to meet or pass by one another their interactions are brief and spiteful, and they often get into arguments even if they’re only in each other’s presence for a short moment.

I thought of Chihiro being the Ultimate Photographer as a way to help tie their involvement with Taka and Mondo, and since cameras are such technical things, transferring their interest from programming to cameras felt right. Learning their inner workings, the right technique and photo editing seems like a suitable swap! They could also work on improving cameras and creating their own custom, top-of-the-line camera models, so they’d still be in the tech industry.

EDIT: As I haven’t fully 100% complete THH I had no idea that Chihiro actually has cameras in their room, which just solidifies my choice!!

On top of that, being a photographer really helps you see the beauty and truth in the world around you, and I think that as Chihiro worked on learning to take good photographs they would have found the beauty in themself, working through their inferiority complex and feeling confident in their identity. In this AU I think of Chihiro as nonbinary who presents very fem a lot of the time, and has a lot of fun with their fashion! The bunny camera bag was essential too, I need more bunny themed Chihiro fashion in my life.

Also since Chihiro works with screens all the time I think they really should have glasses, if only just blue-light to protect their eyes. And they look super cute in them <3

As for how they all tie in together- Mondo and Taka are both scheduled to do a photoshoot, and neither of them realize the other is there until the day of, when they see each other literally in the studio. Chihiro, who is the photographer for the shoot, is well-aware of their long heated rivalry and they are determined to put an end to it. Basically challenges them to TRY and not argue during the entire photoshoot. That then brings about another challenge between them to see who can take a better picture, which ends up being them working together to take nice shots (with a little nudging from Chihiro), and their natural chemistry starts to come out in the photos they produce, etc. etc.

Eventually they’d realize their initial judgements about each other are wrong, and suddenly tabloids are confused when the long-winded rivalry blossoms into a passionate friendship overnight. And of course rumours would fly that they’re not simply “just friends” though of course that’s something else they have to work out between them. And poor tired Chihiro almost wishes they were back to being rivals </3

[thetruthaboutbeliza]

The Truth

A thread of Beliza’s innocence. 

To start out the Pilot for The 100 was filmed in July of 2013 and Season 1 started filming in August of 2013. This would’ve been when Bob and Eliza first became friends. It IS possible they had a brief fling during this time, however there’s nothing to confirm or deny that. 

It’s believed that Bob started dating a girl named Jane Gosden sometime in 2014 and they broke up sometime in 2015. I had trouble finding information about Jane originally and the only source I had found online said they dated 2014-2015 however, that is incorrect. They were together for a few years and broke up some time after May 2014. Jane actually still has quite a few photos on her Instagram of her and Bob together and her with his family. She still interacts with Bob’s sister on a frequent basis as well. I’m still not 100% sure when they started dated but, they were at least together from 2012-2014.

Bob and Arryn met in April 2015 at Supanova in Australia. We know this by photos of them at the con together. Below you can see Bob in the green hat in the back next to Arryn. Barbara is also in the center there in light blue. There are a few other photos of Arryn, Barb, and Bob hanging out during Supanova. 

Arryn and Miles Luna were dating from 2010 until some time in mid 2015 (either May, June, or July). They wrote blog posts confirming their break up in August 2015 and stated they’d been broken up for a little while but didn’t want to announce it until after RTX. In Arryn’s post detailing their break up it is important to note she cited Australia as a reason for their break up.

Everyone wants to attack Bob and Eliza for “moving on quickly” from their exes, specifically Bob from Arryn but, Arryn literally left Miles for Bob. Did they cheat? I don’t know. No one does. But she clearly fell for Bob during Supanova and decided to leave her family/friends/boyfriend behind and pursue Bob and a life in LA. Now it is important to note that she said she wasn’t moving until the END of September 2015. At that point in time she was ALREADY traveling quite frequently out to Vancouver. Vancouver is where The 100 filmed. Some of the cast had photos with her during this time, she was being tagged in posts with them and Bob, her and Bob were talking often on Twitter, and in some of her photos that were more “cryptic” (ie. photos of her at a coffee shop with her and someone else’s shoes) she mentioned something about “Aussies knowing how to do it right.” Bob is Australian. 

So sometime in July 2015 she started traveling often to Vancouver. August 2015 she officially announces her split from Miles but stated they’d been broken up for a bit but didn’t want to tell anyone until after RTX and that she’d be moving to LA to “pursue her dreams” by the end of September 2015. This pretty much confirms that the Anon Twitter account TruevFalse was correct in stating that Arryn still lived with her ex Miles for a brief time when her and Bob started dating. We don’t have the EXACT date/time of them officially starting to date but they were clearly talking seriously July-Aug 2015 if she was flying out that often to Vancouver where he was filming. At some other point she later specifically stated that she moved to LA for Bob. I’m not sure if this was in stream or where she stated this but, I’ve seen multiple people cite that she said that. Confirming she broke up with Miles for Bob. That alone should stop people from automatically attacking Bob and Eliza for getting together quickly. Was it quick? Yes. Even IF that had been cheating like Arryn claims - they wouldn’t have been in a relationship. Having an affair isn’t a real relationship and getting married a few months after officially dating is still fairly fast - cheating or not - but, that’s not for anyone else to comment on. Plenty of people have done something similar - hell some people get married weeks after meeting someone. When you know, you know. But if you’re going to attack them automatically for moving quickly, “Eliza stealing Bob”, or Bob leaving Arryn for Eliza - then you should be equally upset with Arryn for doing the same thing previously to be with Bob.

On to the abuse allegations. She states that Bob was controlling and isolated her from her family and friends and that she had no friends in LA. But that’s 100% HER doing. As I stated, she literally LEFT her boyfriend/friends/family/job to move out to LA where she knew no one to be with Bob. If you’re telling me he forced her to do all of that before they were even dating - you’re crazy. I do believe she left to pursue a better future in LA but, her main motive for moving was Bob. From there he then invited her into his group of friends (The 100 cast) and quite often she was out with certain members of the cast WITHOUT Bob present. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a controlling/abusive relationship but, I have. Also doing any sort of research on the topic will come to a very similar conclusion: abusers/controlling partners do not want you to have ANY friends, they especially don’t want you hanging out with THEIR friends outside of them being with you, and if they don’t like someone they tell you not to be friends with them, associate with them, or hang around them. Arryn was with The 100 cast a ton, like I said, a lot of times she was with them without Bob around. She quite often did photoshoots when she was home in LA with a friend, and she was still constantly hanging out with Barbara. My reason for bringing Barbara up is a few. 1) Arryn claimed Bob specifically didn’t like Barbara and thought she was a bad friend. This *could* be true, who knows. But if we’re going by Arryn claiming Bob was controlling, then he would’ve told her not to be friends with Barbara. Period. Now yes, Arryn would’ve had to see Barbara on occasion for cons or while they were doing promotion work for RWBY but, he probably would’ve told her to limit her interaction with Barbara during those times and outside of that - not communicate with her. That is what an abuser/controller does. 2) My other reason for bringing Barbara into this is because of Barbara’s boyfriend Trevor Collins and his ex Emily. Emily has talked about the abuse she suffered from Trevor for years during their relationship. She was much younger than he was and when they started dating he was controlling/abusive. She specifically stated she was NOT allowed to be friends with his friends or talk to them unless he was around and that he cheated on her with a co-worker (Barbara) and that they manipulated her by calling her crazy while she had suspicions but they denied it. Now that sounds awfully familiar to Arryn’s story and it’s quite hypocritical for Arryn to know her best friend did this and then to hate Eliza for “doing the same thing”. Here are pieces of Emily’s statement/story. Did Arryn steal part of her story for her own? I can’t say for sure. It’s also important to note Trevor is part of RTX which Miles, Barbara, and Arryn were/are a part of and that the “friend group” Emily was referring to probably included Arryn but, I’m not 100% sure on that.

Another part of Arryn’s story was that Bob FORCED her to be friends with Eliza. So he can FORCE her to be friends with someone but can’t FORCE her to not be friends with Barbara even though she specifically mentions he didn’t like her? She said he forced her to be friends with Eliza even though he had told her he “hated” Eliza but, I’m not sure when he would’ve possibly hated her as Eliza and Bob have been friends since filming began. There’s never not been interaction/photos/hanging out of those two. They’ve always been adamant about being best friends/super close. And Arryn was often seen with Eliza, again, without Bob around. I could imagine Bob trying to force her to be friends/friendly with Eliza while he brought Eliza around but, it’s incredibly odd he’d somehow force Arryn to hang out with Eliza on her own. 

On to the accusation of Bob being a biphobe and that he was not happy with her being bisexual. This one is just incredibly wrong for multiple reasons. Firstly, a few people defending Arryn have stated Bob has never shown any sort of support for Bisexuals or LGBTQ and that’s false. He’s actually been fairly vocal (to Bob’s standards anyways as he’s not very vocal on Social Media in general) about LGBTQ rights/support and has commented quite a few times about how proud he was to be a part of a show where they had a leading lady being Bisexual. Bob was also part of one of Australia’s first gay kiss scenes on tv. He went to Pride with Richard well before Arryn ever did and according to her statement she says “when he found out I was bisexual he was furious” but Arryn has always been openly Bisexual. She was constantly talking about it during on twitter during the time they were constantly tweeting each other back and forth before she officially broke up with Miles. There’s no possible way Bob didn’t know Arryn was bisexual before dating her. If he was biphobic, he simply wouldn’t have dated her, nor would he constantly be showing support for LGBTQ over the years. Arryn also frequently talked about being Bisexual still while they were dating. She was never not open about that. 

Those above are some of the times he’s been vocal about Bisexual/LGBTQ rights/support. He’s also a fan of Tegan and Sara and has liked a few posts of theirs. Then we have the post from yesterday of Eliza talking about being proud to represent Bisexuals by playing Clarke and Bob taking the photo/liking the post.

With Arryn deactivating her Twitter I can’t go through and find all the times she was open about being Bisexual while with Bob but, here are two instances I could find. So she never stopped talking about her sexuality while with Bob.

One of the biggest holes in Arryn’s story is when she talks about how she got a rental property for her and Bob in Australia and after doing the paperwork and moving everything in, shortly after he dumped her to be with Eliza and that they stole the place from her and that he never intended for that to be their place. The first thing about that is there was never a place in Australia - the place in Australia that Bob and Eliza have was BOUGHT by them and is NOT the place Arryn is referring to. I was incorrect about this statement - I got confused and thought Arryn had said in her statement that the house was in Australia but, she said “The Hills” and I remembered seeing some fans attacking Bob for posting photos of their house in Australia on his cover on Facebook as “rubbing it in her face” and combined those in my head. So I apologize. 

The place Arryn is referring to is the rental place in LA. I’m not sure how she made that error or why she didn’t correct it but, there’s that. So Eliza and Bob “stole” the rental home from her but, later on in her statement she confirms that she actually DID live in the rental house and that she left because she got spooked when fans found out she was looking for roommates since she couldn’t afford to live there by herself. She states that herself and plenty of fans have confirmed remembering seeing her looking for roommates during that time. Bob gave her the place originally, she couldn’t afford it and got scared, so she gave it back to him. That is the house where Bob and Eliza are currently staying at during quarantine in LA.  Now according to Eliza’s story of when her and Bob got together she states that she had signed a one year lease with her friend Nina in Vancouver sometime in Feb. 2019 and in March 2019 when they were unpacking Bob came over and asked her on a date. Going back to Arryn’s story, this couldn’t be true since according to her they were having an affair for at least 6 months that she knew of and that her getting their rental house in LA in December 2018 was essentially for Bob and Eliza she just didn’t know that at the time. These photos from Nina’s Instagram/Stories confirm Eliza’s side of the story.

So Eliza was still with Nina until at least May 2019. It wasn’t until June 2019 that Eliza was officially living with Bob and they had gotten Panda. 

If they stole this place from her, why did they not move in together until June?

Another part of Arryn’s story is about how she “caught” them together on camera while she was in New Zealand. That trip by the way, she was with her mother while Bob was home in LA recovering from knee surgery. She went on a trip with her mother (aka family that Bob isolated her from) while he was recovering from surgery. You’d think someone controlling would force her to stay and take care of them. Shortly after she “caught” them cheating, she publicly announced how much she missed Eliza and wished her a happy birthday via Instagram. So this was the “6 months” she was referring to, she “caught” them together, and then 6 months later in Feb 2019 he dumped her for Eliza. However, up until Jun 2019 (when they officially married/moved in together), Arryn was STILL friendly with them both on social media. Now I understand people want to say “well she was brainwashed by them, it makes sense”. Again, if you’ve been in a situation like this the moment you’re free from your abuser/s you cut the chord. It makes no sense she’d continue to be friendly with them both AFTER catching them cheating, AFTER he dumped her for Eliza and “stole” the house she got for them, and AFTER escaping her abuser. Giving her the benefit of the doubt and she did still feel the need to be attached to her abuser/s for a while after the break up, why was it that when she caught them cheating 6 months prior did she only claim she felt betrayed by one of her close friends and cut them off completely in June 2019 after Beliza announced their marriage? She had no problem cutting off the “betrayer” then. 

The youtube video below is an interview featuring Barbara and Arryn May 14th 2019 where at she talks about the betrayal. She says she had a friend betray a huge amount of trust even though they thought they were close and the best way to deal with it was to cut them completely off. (This was clearly about Eliza and is around the 53:00 mark). Mind you, going back to her statement she claims Bob “forced” them to be friends. In this same interview she also talks about getting a therapist (around 10:49 mark) “for no reason in particular” and “doesn’t know what she even needs help with” other than her anxiety and feeling like she didn’t want to dump all her problems on friends and wanted someone to talk to. She talks very light hearted about it and in no way indicates that she’s seeking therapy for an abusive relationship or anything similar. While watching this interview, at (29:40) is where she actually confirms moving to LA with a significant other. Confirming earlier that she left Miles for Bob. She also says that she found most of her friends were through said significant other (Bob) and although she’s friends with them even though they aren’t together anymore, she doesn’t have too many friends outside of that relationship but, (again she’s very light-hearted talking about this) that it’s because she spent so much time around them that your friends become theirs and vise versa and that she “really doesn’t want to make friends because she’s comfortable being alone”. She later (around 42:00) talks about how pretty much ALL of her friends have been because of boyfriends. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JvBtaCp_5Ro&ab_channel=RoosterTeeth

Now then, in her other statement she mentions her relationship with Miles briefly because people brought up that she cheated on him. She states “they were consenting adults in their relationship and he was okay with me being with a woman”. This is only true to a degree - he was technically okay with it, however she cheated FIRST, she started making out with a girl while drunk and he saw it and him and his friends thought it was “hot”. Afterwards she asked him if it was fine and he said “yes because I’m right here and it’s hot”. He also basically implies that he’d be “okay” with his girlfriend cheating with another girl but not a man. This is all from HIS mouth. Not only is all of that completely derogatory to bisexuals (I’m bi just FYI), it cancels out her statement of them talking about her being with another girl beforehand and him being okay with it because they did NOT talk about it before. He simply said he was okay with her being bi. 

Here’s the video: https://twitter.com/klarkbell/status/1294995706906849281?s=20 In her statement she also claims that Bob cheated on his previous ex (Jane) with Eliza. How would she know this first of all? And secondly, Jane is actually still close with his family. I can’t imagine she would be if he cheated on her. Especially because they dated for a little over a year where him and Arryn dated for over 3 years. Bob’s family cut off Arryn but, not Jane. It’s also a bit odd to me that Arryn’s mother is still friends with Bob’s mother. Terry is Bob’s mother, Bev is Arryn’s. 

Next we have the video that stirred Arryn’s statement to begin with where she was on stream saying “the last two women I dated were batshit, actually most women are batshit” and then proceeded to say that she has a history of dating “psychopaths and narcissists”. These are all incredibly gross statements and if you find yourself claiming that ALL of your relationships are either psychos, narcissists, and/or batshit - you should probably check yourself.

https://twitter.com/klarkbell/status/1302700329138565122?s=20

She says she’s terrified of Bob, always has been and still is. However, she never once claimed he was physically abusive. I don’t know a single person who’s been emotionally/mentally abusive who has ever used the term “afraid” when talking about the abuser. The ex I had that was controlling and the ex I had that was mentally abusive both had a lot of issues, they were assholes, toxic, and terrible partners but, I was never once afraid of them. I’ve dealt with a narcissist (actually the ex of my partner who has bullied/harassed me, not an ex of my own) and while being a pathological liar is a trait of a narcissist - it doesn’t make you automatically a narcissist to be a pathological liar and/or toxic. Nothing she describes = narcissist. So it’s not okay that she uses that term to describe Bob or any of her exes. Talk to anyone who’s been physically abused and you’ll get the statement of them being scared and/or terrified. However, you’ll also get a vastly different reaction from them compared to Arryn’s on how they speak about the abuse they endured and their abuser. If you’re scared of someone after being abused, you don’t call them names, you don’t laugh about name calling, or about the abuse you endured (no, not even to “break tension”), you’re terrified - you’re scared of speaking out extremely vocally because of “what they might do to you”. I’d also like to mention it’s extremely rare for the abuser to dump the victim. They’re controlling/abusive to KEEP you around, they SCARE you to KEEP you around. Not dump you to be with someone else. 

Abusive people also don’t just magically change/get better. They have a history of being this way and more often than not continue to be that way to future partners. Arryn claims Bob wasn’t supportive of anything she did, didn’t let her sing/do music, isolated her from family and friends, refused therapy. Yet, with Eliza it’s incredibly different. She’s always with friends/family and he’s often with them as well. She sings/does music as well and he’s supportive of it and everything she does including her foundation. And, he’s in therapy. They both are so she can figure out how to be a better partner for him due to his extreme depression/suicidal thoughts. I’d also like to remind you that Bob bought Arryn a new keyboard for her birthday one year and was supportive of her being in a friend’s music video in 2018.

Arryn was told at some point in a stream I guess about Bob going to therapy and she said something along the lines of “good for him although I doubt he’s changed”. If she didn’t think it was possible he could change, why did she say she tried to get him into therapy and he refused for years? Why would he refuse therapy but, go into therapy within months of being with Eliza? Since breaking up with Arryn, Bob has been incredibly vocal on social media about his mental health struggles where when he was with her he was fairly silent. He occasionally posted support for mental health awareness but, nothing compared to what he does now. Almost like his mental health got incredibly bad while dating Arryn and he was hiding it from the public/not allowed to talk about it. 

I want to say that the abuse and harassment Arryn apparently endured from The 100 fans while dating Bob and even after is completely uncalled for and I do feel bad that she had to go through that. No one deserves that. However, it’s important to also remember that there is absolutely NOTHING Bob could’ve done to stop that. Nothing he could say that would force people to stop saying shit. People are going to do what they are going to do regardless. True fans, should’ve been happy for him and supported his relationship. No celebrity can control their fans and the few times some of them have spoken out about their fans doing shit like this - nothing happened or it made the fans worse. Bottom line is fans have a problem of feeling entitled and that celebrities/their fav should listen to them. People didn’t like Arryn and nothing Bob said was going to change that. It’s incredibly naive to hold anyone accountable for someone else’s behavior. Much the same as Arryn isn’t able to control her fans doing the SAME thing to Beliza now. Bob and Eliza have both always been very open about how they don’t approve of bullying, harassment, and that you should “be kind”. That alone should be enough for fans to know not to harass/bully someone. They’ve both received hate mail, death threats, been told it’s good Eliza had a miscarriage and they hope she’s sterile, had mail sent to their house, etc. and they haven’t openly talked about that. They haven’t “told fans to knock it off”. Hell their marriage was literally found out by fans before they wanted to announce it because they found Eliza’s number and called her. That’s crossing a line too and harassing them but, they STILL didn’t say anything publicly. They instead announced their marriage and just said “we ask for privacy during this time”. So it makes no sense that you’d expect them or ANY celebrity for that matter - to have control over their fans, “force” their fans to stop doing shit, and blame them for what their fans do/have done. 

I do not believe that Bob is completely innocent. I believe their relationship was incredibly toxic and bad for them both and they probably brought out the worst in each other. I don’t doubt they had yelling matches and probably said mean things to one another. However, I 100% believe it was a MUTUAL thing. Arryn is NOT innocent or the victim/survivor and Bob is NOT the animal she’s making him out to be. It sounds more like she, not only felt betrayed by Bob and Eliza getting together, but that she was tired of their fans harassing her for years and continuing even after they broke up/got together that the only thing she could think to do was release a statement and throw Bob completely under the bus to save herself. If she’s painted as the victim and Bob the villain then surely the harassment will stop. Especially with how people blindly believe any statement released in regards to abuse or rape. After experiencing years of harassment she only decides to deactivate her twitter after people poked holes in her story and she realized not everyone believed her and she was STILL getting harassment. Again, she doesn’t deserve the constant harassment. I believe that is what pushed her to this point. No, it’s not okay that she’s lied and done this by any means but, I think she felt backed into a corner and lashed out. I can understand where she’s coming from, even though it doesn’t excuse it or make it right. 

One last note, something I remembered: she specifically stated Bob was the reason she deactivated Youtube and stopped posting/being on social media as much. However, she slowly stopped doing that while with Miles and in her statement about breaking up with him said she’d be taking a hiatus from Youtube but, would be back. However, I think she just decided against that because she wanted to unplug and live life. 

Now one of the major things everyone says is proof of her statement is that Bob has been silent. I’d like to remind you that usually guilty parties deny deny and are vocal. Bob’s silence is more proof to me that he’s innocent. He knows no matter what he says - won’t matter. If he denies it, people will say he’s lying. The victim/survivor wants to move on, they want to forget the abuser, don’t acknowledge them and just want to be happy. All of the things BOB is doing, not Arryn. I’ve seen people say “if he’s innocent he’d sue her for slander” however, how is that any different than the countless rape/physical abuse victims that don’t come forward or call the cops/take them to court? They don’t want to relive all that. They want to move on. The damage has already been done with her statement, same way as even though Amber Heard was proven a liar in court - the damage was/is done. Johnny still isn’t going to be able to work with Disney again, certain people STILL defend Amber despite the court findings/evidence. What would be the purpose of him denying it? The man is in therapy because he incredibly depressed/suicidal and looks so much happier/healthier in his marriage with Eliza. He just wants to leave it all behind. Denying it/suing her will just continue the lengthy process of moving on from everything and re-stir the pot. I’d also like to throw in there the fact that proving emotional/mental abuse is incredibly hard so it’s not like taking her to court over slander would really do anything. Johnny was able to fight his case because it was physical abuse and there was countless amounts of evidence/witnesses/documents/photos etc. Most people don’t have any solid evidence against mental/emotional abuse because it happens in person/in the moment. Unless you’re recording everything, you won’t have proof. It’s just he said/she said. That’s why the majority of Arryn’s statement was about cheating and not the abuse. 

[yukipri]

On the Baratie, Part 5 Epilogue - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Here’s the final part of the Baratie series!

Includes my personal headcanons for Thatch’s backstory in this AU (and possibly canon, as I doubt we’ll learn much more about him sigh).

WARNINGS (actual warnings this time):

＊Trigger warnings for non-graphic violence, gore, unwilling self-harm, mention of thoughts of suicide, and body horror. Canon-typical dark backstory.

Slight ship warnings for: minor Sanji x Luffy, Thatch x Luffy, hint of bg Sabo x Luffy, but not ship-focused.

Continues off of past parts!

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 1

👒🐟On the Baratie, Prologue

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 2

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 3

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 4

~~

They've been traveling together for a while now. With more additions to the crew, Sanji's no longer the newest member. They leave East Blue, crossing over to the Grand Line. Their voyage continues onward.

Fitting into his role as the second cook of the ASL Pirates was easier than Sanji could have ever hoped, and he knows it's largely due to Thatch. Thatch, who, for all his incredible skill and titles and history, turns out to be...a remarkably normal person. It takes less than an hour for Sanji's awe over Thatch being his childhood idol to turn into pure indignation when the other cook professes his love for Luffy, and now their daily proposals to Luffy with food are just part of routine on the Merry.

(Sanji still knows his cooking is amateur in comparison to Thatch's, but none of their crew seems to realize, and Luffy eats all their food with equal gusto. Even Thatch himself only ever compliments Sanji, often with ridiculous faux outrage that Sanji's cooking looks better, which is absolutely false, Sanji would know. But even so, the man sounds so genuinely offended that Sanji can't help but appreciate the lengths the older man will go to in order to keep Sanji from feeling inferior.)

It's during a rare moment of calm, when the skies are clear and Deuce and Nami seem relaxed about their progress, when Sanji decides there's never going to be a better time to ask. He finishes washing the last of the pastry plates from the desserts the crew had just finished devouring (his hands momentarily pause on a plate that Ace had to pull out of Luffy's throat when she swallowed it whole along with the pastry, and Sanji allows himself a moment of imagining that the plate with her slobber is somewhat like an indirect kiss...), before he exits the kitchen to go to his locker.

From the locker, buried beneath gravure magazines of buxom ladies whose beauty will never compare to Luffy's, he pulls out a magazine far more valuable to him, the only one of its kind that he'd brought with him from the Baratie.

Back up on the main deck, Sanji finds Thatch sitting by the mast while watching Luffy and Usopp play with some new contraption the latter made. He looks up when he senses Sanji's approach, grimacing when the movement makes the wind blow his now loose hair into his mouth.

"I need a hair tie if Marco's not going to send me my damn hair wax," Thatch complains, even as he pats the ground next to him for Sanji to sit.

"You could always ask our lovely navigator," Sanji grunts as he drops down, careful not to fold the magazine, which Thatch has yet to notice.

"Ah, beautiful Miss Nami might have one, but her hair's pretty short...honestly more likely Deuce'll have one." Thatch sulks, because he'd really rather get a hair tie from a pretty lady, but as it is, Thatch probably has the longest hair on the crew at the moment, followed by their first mate. "If only our ladies had longer hair...ah, my darling Seastar with long hair..."

Sanji lets himself get drawn into imagining their most dazzling Lady Captain leaning against the rail of the Merry, sunlight sparkling off the waves in the background paling in comparison to her radiance. Her face is shadowed by her trademark straw hat, before she raises her head, causing long, silky strands to ripple around her like dark angel wings, glittering threads of black diamond dancing across her cheeks before she tucks them behind her ear with a small smile--

Both cooks sigh dreamily in perfect unison.

"Hey Luffy, they're thinking somethin' pervy about you again!" Usopp shouts in the background.

Both cooks ignore him, likewise in perfect synch.

Thatch regretfully pulls out of his Luffy Vision first. "So, you got something to talk to me about?" He knows it can't be about dinner, because they'd already started prepping for that.

Sanji blinks, and oh, there's Luffy, with her short hair, still just as lovely, probably doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous, but that's okay because Sabo's stepping in, and the Revolutionary may be batshit crazy but he won't let Luffy hurt herself--and right, he wanted to talk to Thatch.

He carefully brings the magazine out in front of him, and Thatch leans over curiously. The pages easily fall open to the column, remembering the page Sanji poured over countless times. Sanji hears Thatch's breath hitch.

"This you?" Sanji asks, looking at the faded photo of the smiling boy, before his eyes flick to Thatch.

The older man's eyes are wide, glued to the page. Sanji wordlessly offers him the magazine, and Thatch slowly takes it, his hands handling the paper carefully as though worried it'll crack.

"Yeah, that's me alright," Thatch murmurs, eyes scanning the column before his lips twist into a wry smile. "How the hell did you get your hands on this fossil?"

"Found it while we were looking for stuff for the Baratie's collection, some old second hand shop," Sanji says, and it's not a lie, but it's not like he can admit he was obsessed with them and actually hunted for them after obtaining the first ones.

Thatch makes a low sound of understanding, before he starts flipping through the rest of the magazine, pages that Sanji honestly doesn't even remember. "I wonder if this magazine's still even going..."

"It is," Sanji informs him. "It's changed a lot, but we still get it delivered."

Thatch laughs then, shaking his head as he closes the magazine and hands it back to Sanji with the same care. "I'm sure it has changed, after what happened, oh man..."

Sanji frowns. So something did happen.

"So how did the kid in this end up a Whitebeard pirate?" he asks, but he means, How did the boy's adventure end?

"Mm, you sure you wanna know? It's not a particularly nice story, though I suppose it has a happy end." Thatch leans back heavily against the mast, his hand subconsciously reaching up to brush hair away from his face, lingering on the deep, if old scar around his left eye. Sanji wonders if it's related.

"If it's something you don't mind sharing. I'm sure I can handle it."

They're interrupted by a crash, and look up to see Sabo heaving Luffy up back over the rail by the end of her tail. She'd clearly almost fallen overboard, again, but is laughing as carefree as ever, even as Usopp wrings his hands apologetically behind them. Sabo doesn't look mad though, and is stroking Luffy's hair now that she's safely back on deck and in his arms, his face disgustingly besotted.

Deuce and Nami come out of the cabin at the noise, and Ace and Zoro startle awake from their respective naps as well. Deuce takes one look at what's going on, and launches into a full blown scolding session for all three of the members involved, clearly dissatisfied with the way Sabo handled it. It had only taken the first mate a few days in his company before Deuce had determined that no matter how sensible Sabo may seem at times, he's still Another Stupid Brother, and therefore gets the same treatment.

The rest of the crew listening in winces when Deuce hurls a, "Luffy being stupid is one thing, but you're WAY too lenient with her, you foolish Revolutionary!" Nami and Koala cheer him on in the background.

("Told you," Ace mouths, before hastily looking away when Deuce's gaze snaps to him.)

Usopp looks thoroughly chastised and sincerely sorry, Sabo looks weirdly pleased as though being told he's lenient is a compliment, and Luffy looks bored and is searching for an escape when her gaze lands on the two cooks.

"Thatch! Story time?!" is all the warning they get, before Luffy's arms grab onto the mast behind them and the mermaid torpedoes head-first into Thatch's chest. It's a testament to the Whitebeard Commander's sturdiness that all he does is grunt at the considerable impact, even as Sanji winces in sympathy. That'll definitely bruise.

"Alright, yeah story time, if anyone wants to hear my boring old past," Thatch agrees, and Luffy cheers, turning herself sideways and flopping down on Thatch's crossed legs to look up at him with eyes sparkling with expectation. Sanji isn't even jealous, because in her new position, Luffy's thrown her tail across Sanji's lap, and he begins reverently rubbing circles into her soft scales, heat creeping up his cheeks when her flukes flick with pleasure.

Deuce sighs, giving up on his scolding as everyone gathers around the cooks. But he doesn't seem too disappointed, and pulls out his notebook as he joins them, as though he intends on recording whatever Thatch's going to say. Ace plops himself down on Thatch's other side, ruffling Luffy's hair distractedly and hiding his curiosity poorly. Sanji gets the feeling that despite knowing him for much longer, Ace hasn't heard much about Thatch's past either.

"Well, so..."

~~

Thatch was born to a middle class family in a relatively active port town on the Grand Line. His parents ran a modest diner, certainly nothing high class, but popular enough among the locals to almost always have full seats.

Thatch was what they called a "child prodigy." He'd started helping in the kitchen simply because he wanted to do the same things as his parents, but by the time he was seven, he'd already surpassed both of them in skill. His parents decided to leave the kitchen to him, while they focussed on management.

With Thatch behind the menu, the restaurant's popularity grew, drawing more traffic. Among their visitors were occasional food critics, who spread their business's reputation and made it something of a cult tourist spot.

When Thatch was nine, his father came up with the idea that it might be good publicity, for people to know that a literal child was behind their now famous restaurant's food. And in the name of said publicity, he also decided to have the restaurant officially under Thatch's name, although is parents still managed it.

"Child prodigy chef owns his own restaurant," was definitely a headline that journalists latched onto. The berries were rolling in.

Thatch himself, he didn't really care about that. He rarely ever left the kitchen now, constantly cooking, constantly coming up with new menu items, constantly training new chefs as their once small family diner expanded into a chain. He didn't really mind it, he loved cooking after all, but he often wished he still had time to talk to patrons, or explore town. While there weren't any child labor laws in their country, he couldn't go to school or make friends or do anything a normal child might otherwise enjoy.

So when the largest, most prominent cooking magazine sent a representative to talk about a potential column centered around him, Thatch was hopeful. He'd always dreamed of leaving the island, and it'd never seemed like an achievable dream. He wanted to exposure to new things to expand his cooking repertoire, and he wanted to be able to challenge himself as a cook--but more than anything, he also just wanted go and see what might be out there, outside of his diner's kitchen.

His parents reluctantly agreed. At this point, Thatch had trained enough experienced cooks, and their reputation was established enough that Thatch's temporary absence wouldn't damage them. And Thatch knew his parents were drawn by the potential for greater publicity from the column, and Thatch (and their restaurant) possibly becoming a household name not just on the Grand Line, but across the world.

(Thatch never thought his parents were bad people, or even bad parents. He hadn't wanted for anything, and they let him pursue and nurture his passion. That they were business-minded, and had also come to see Thatch as an asset and publicity tool was something he understood. They still loved him, in their own way.)

His parents' only condition was that Thatch return in a few years, before he was fifteen. A "child prodigy" becomes less interesting with age, and eventually becomes "a normal adult." They wanted Thatch back before that, to reestablish his connection to their diner, before he inevitably faded out of public interest, or had to re-establish his identity as an adult cook.

And so at eleven years old, what seemed like the entire town saw off Thatch, who set sail on a small ship manned by experienced sailors, and chaperoned by the journalist who would be documenting his voyage.

For the first two years, the journey was everything Thatch had ever wanted. They would go to new islands, information provided to him by the journalist, and then he would be given free reign to do whatever he wanted, so long as it included food and cooking, which is what Thatch would have been drawn to do anyway. That there were always a handful of adults a few paces behind him, documenting everything he did and forcing him to voice his thoughts out loud, all eventually faded into the background. Thatch got used to voicing his inner thoughts for their benefit. It was hardly a chore, and Thatch was having the time of his life.

But all things eventually change. Due to the success of the column, Thatch's journalist was given a promotion, and the last stretch of his journey before Thatch was to return to his home island was assigned to a new journalist. Thatch had always known that their relationship was strictly professional, and was used to changing traveling companions at this point. It felt a bit lonely that the first journalist, the only person who had remained a constant, was leaving...but he understood.

It's just business, after all.

The new journalist replaced the old one, and their journey continued--or at least, it was supposed to.

Child!Thatch, adult Thatch would later think, was remarkably naive and sheltered for all that he was a veteran cook. He was used to having things being laid out in front of him on a neat platter, for the adults in his life to control all aspects of his life, conveniently convincing himself that it's what he wanted anyway. He was used to the adults taking care of all the details, because all Thatch had to do to make everyone happy was cook. He not once doubted those responsible for his life, and blindly trusted that they would keep everything smooth and safe for him.

Because when one day, thirteen-year old Thatch woke up to see red staining the walls of the cabin, and then looked around to find the corpses of everyone else on the ship strewn around him, it took a remarkably long time for him to process that this definitely wasn't what was supposed to happen.

He was disoriented, too numb to even feel panic or put up a fight when the new journalist came in and tied him up to pass him to the pirates who had decimated the crew.

Pirates. It wasn't the Golden Age of Piracy yet, and although the Roger Pirates and other famous names were often whispered about, most sailors didn't expect to personally run into pirates. Thatch had been warned of their existence, but hadn't really thought much on them, as they had seemed irrelevant to his own peaceful civilian adventures.

The pirates and the journalist had a deal, he gathered. The pirates had wanted to get their hands on the famous child prodigy cook, and were willing to pay good money. The journalist had agreed, and had summoned the pirates to their location. Everyone but Thatch and the journalist had been killed to erase witnesses.

Before handing Thatch off to them, the journalist demanded payment first. Thatch remembers wondering why the journalist hadn't demanded anything before agreeing to the deal--it seemed a bad business tactic.

Thatch was standing right next to the journalist when the pirate captain drew his sword. Thatch wasn't scared, because he knew he wouldn't be hurt. He was an asset. And he probably knew what would happen before the journalist did.

He still remembers feeling the whoosh of air as the sword came, the sound of it hitting flesh, the dull thunk, the loosening of the arms gripping the rope that held Thatch bound.

Thatch thought ah, so human heads can be severed just as easily as fish heads.

Thatch didn't put up a fuss, going with the pirates. It was clear he couldn't have stayed on the ransacked ship, because even if he did, he had no way of manning the ship alone, even if he even knew how. And so he wordlessly followed, and continued to do what he'd done his whole life: obey adults.

And at first it wasn't bad. A kitchen was a kitchen, no matter how dirty, and Thatch knew how to please people with food. The pirates seemed overjoyed with Thatch's skill.

But some part of Thatch really wondered if that's all they wanted from him, and that bad feeling manifested itself as reality soon.

Hey brat, the captain said one day, and dumped a sack of ingredients Thatch had never used before into the kitchen. Turn this into something good. We need to get rid of an entire rival crew, and they're gluttons.

Thatch may never have used them before, but he recognized the things in the bag. They were all things he knew to avoid.

The pirate captain was asking him to make poison.

Thatch was a cook. No matter the reasons why people wanted him to cook, no matter who benefited and what money was passed around, and no matter how terrible the conditions--Thatch was alright so long as he could cook. Thatch cooked so that he could make delicious things that would in the end, contribute to nourishing people. He polished his skills to make that experience better, to make his patrons happier, to make himself feel more accomplished as a result.

Poison...that wasn't something that a cook could make.

Thatch, for the first time, spoke back to an adult. He felt that numb feeling again, over any fear.

I'm a cook, I can't make anything that can harm people. Please let me start preparing dinner. Thatch stated it as fact, and to him, it was.

The pirate struck Thatch. It was the first time he'd ever been hit, because as a child prodigy, as an asset, he'd always been too valuable to damage. But now...

You'll make it, or we have no need for you.

Bars were added to the kitchen, making it Thatch's cell. All edible ingredients were confiscated. And every day, the pirates came in with more ingredients, more demands.

Make an aphrodisiac. Make a date rape drug. Make something that'll make someone lose feeling in their limbs. Make something that'll cause loss of senses. Make something that'll cause crazy hallucinations. Make something deadly, but undetectable in water. Make something that can dissolve guts from the inside out. Make something that won't kill, but cause excruciating pain. Make something that WILL kill, but only after several days.

The pirates didn't want a cook. They wanted a master poisons brewer. Which, Thatch was not.

Every time Thatch refused, they beat him. They threatened to cut off his legs, because why would he need them, when all he needed were his hands? They threatened to carve out his eyes, and the captain stabbed a knife close to his left eye to show how serious he was. They left Thatch with running water, but didn't give him anything to eat, other than the deadly, horrible ingredients they'd left inside the kitchen for him to turn into even worse poisons.

Thatch sorted the ingredients by those least harmful, and kept himself alive by reluctantly eating those first, but knew that the longer this continued, the more permanent and fatal the damage those ingredients would cause.

(He tried to come up with ways to use what he had to nullify effects, but he was just a kid, and it was his first time trying to make actual medicine. His experiments were risky, and often failed.)

Thatch didn't know how long he was in there, his sense of time and self muddled as he survived off of numbing agents and aphrodisiacs and hallucinogens. They barely kept him alive, and made him feel horrible. He tried to remember why it was so important he kept eating them, and rationing them like they were valuable.

In the corner of the kitchen was an ever growing pile of bright, beautiful fruits that he knew would cause immediate agonizing death...but they looked so lusciously juicy and ripe, and it was getting harder to remember why he couldn't eat them.

Perhaps it was the hallucinogens, perhaps it was everything wrong with his body that Thatch had unwillingly caused himself by eating, but one day, Thatch realized he was going through the movements of peeling those fruits, chopping them, squeezing the juices and watching with fascination as they sizzled into the bubbling pot he was brewing. He was too entranced by the concoction to even notice that his hands were burning and blistering, or perhaps they were just too numb.

He added spices, adjusted heat, and hummed. It had been too long, since he had cooked.

Except he wasn't cooking, because this wasn't food.

It smelled quite delicious, Thatch thought, mildly impressed with himself. Something tropical and fruity, mellowed by mushrooms and a great many other herbs. And it looked aesthetically pleasing, with its dancing, hypnotic colors. If he hadn't known what had gone into it, he'd consider it presentable to critics as his next seasonal special.

But now that it was done, and ready to be served, Thatch had no clue what to do with it.

He hadn't thought that far (he wasn't thinking at all), and didn't know how to think about the thing he made, when it wasn't edible.

He supposed he could possibly see if it could melt through the bars of his cell, though he wasn't sure where he'd even go if he could escape. The cell didn't have any windows, and Thatch wasn't even sure they were at an island, they could still be on open water. Thatch might be able to throw it on a pirate, as a weapon. But there were dozens of pirates on board, and not nearly enough for all of them.

He could drink it himself. It would be an escape of sorts, he supposed.

It never crossed Thatch's mind to offer the concoction to the pirates, as a creation to be used.

He stood in the kitchen for hours, aimlessly stirring the pot, watching the brew get darker and darker, its magical colors turning into murky brown. Eventually, it became a thick, black tar-like substance that reflected no light, that looked like a void as Thatch stared into it.

A thin gray haze gradually began filling the room, and Thatch was well aware of it. He was already starting to feel noticeably worse than before. He supposed that was one way of giving himself a time limit: he'd either decide what to do with the brew, or succumb to the fumes first.

He distantly heard muted sounds overhead, and he realized the pirates may be fighting someone. It happened once in a while. But it was usually with other pirates, and he doubted it was the marines, and no civilian vessel would dare get close to such an obvious pirate ship. And well, if it was pirates...that's just more of the same, wasn't it?

Thatch eventually heard footsteps approaching the room, and someone coughing as they inhaled the fumes, now dense enough to be a dark smog that made it hard to see his own hands (or maybe that was the effect of the poison in him).

A creak--the cell doors were opening.

Thatch could barely think anymore, but made a split second decision. He didn't know what the consequences would be, but had a hunch he wouldn't survive long enough to find out anyway, so what did it matter.

He picked up the pot, and hurled all of its contents at the approaching figure.

There was a FUCK! and then--

Thatch won't ever forget what happened when that brew hit a human body.

But as he fell, the last of his strength gone, wondering if he should feel horrible or proud that he killed someone on his way out, Thatch saw the room light up, the black haze vanishing into searing, brilliant turquoise flames.

~~

"And so that's how I met Marco!" Thatch says, voice surprisingly chipper, even though Sanji feels like retching.

"You melted him," Ace says flatly, voice a mix of horror and awe.

"Sure did, if he had been anyone else they probably woulda been a puddle of human goo, and even he got halfway there," Thatch agrees, his hands stroking Luffy's hair harder, as they'd been doing all throughout his story telling. "Though lucky me, to have thrown poison at possibly one of the only people in the world with instant self-regeneration and possibly immortality."

"Was he mad? Pineapple bird-man. Melting doesn't sound very fun," Luffy frowns. She'd admittedly fallen asleep for most of the story, but woke up again when Thatch's hands in her hair got more tense, more urgent. She contentedly nuzzles into his thigh, more interested in making sure that Thatch's alright than in his answer, and she purrs when he crooks his fingers to scritch her reassuringly.

"Oh sure, he was mad for a little bit, but he's a nice guy and was a worry-wort even back then, so he brought me to Pops. And well, it took a while, but we're best buddies now and have been for years! Fancy that."

Deuce was shaking his head. "I still can't believe that stupid crew wanted to take down Pops with poison of all things, and were stupid enough to enter his territory without it even being ready."

"Well, it's not like they could have won in direct combat, and to be fair, back then the Four Emperors weren't that established, and territories in the New World were a lot looser than they are now." Thatch shrugged. "If nothing else, it was a creative angle, if a poorly thought out one, unlike some people's way of challenging Pops." Ace fidgets uncomfortably here, and Deuce snorts.

"You..." Sanji's finally recovering from his queasiness, because fuck Thatch's tale really wasn't pretty, especially from a cook's perspective. "You don't mind fighting, and killing people now?" He glances at the swords strapped to Thatch's belt, and thinks about his own insistence to never use his hands in combat.

"Well, I'd prefer not to do it, same as anyone else. But I don't mind fighting in general, and once Pops adopted me, I wanted to be able to defend myself." Thatch laughs here, and it sounds bitter, making Luffy look up. "Haruta actually suggested I use poison, if I knew how to make one that could almost take down the Phoenix, and, well...that's a no. May have thrown him overboard for that, but he deserved it. I told them I was good with knives, and Vista helped me develop my own style."

The conversation moves on then, the other crew members chipping in with questions, but Sanji sort of tunes it all out. He thought he was over his queasiness, but it's back again. Being forced to brew poison, and being offered nothing but harmful things to eat...fuck. Even Judge hadn't done that...

He feels something wrap around him then, and Sanji looks down, and realizes that Luffy's looped her tail so that her flukes curl behind his back, securely holding him, even as she continues to nuzzle Thatch's leg for attention.

How weak he must be, Sanji thinks, to need his captain's comfort now. But it helps, and he gradually relaxes.

Eventually the others realize that the story's over, and disperse back to their usual tasks, leaving Thatch and Sanji and a snoozing Luffy curled around both of their laps.

"Well, I guess that explains how the boy prodigy's journey ended," Sanji says, reaching over to Thatch's side to run his hand through Luffy's hair, smiling when she hums happily.

Thatch makes a soft sound, that sounds like possibly disagreement. "Well, sure, I ended up joining the Whitebeard pirates, and never ended up going back to my hometown. Everyone thought I was dead anyway, and being on the Moby was better than any restaurant for me, because I got to feed my brothers and travel, at least wherever the Moby goes, and that's still a fine adventure in its own way. But I guess you're right in that with a territory and a literal army backing me up...it's not quite the same kind of adventure, without the trill of the unknown."

Thatch looks up then, and when his eyes sweep across their little ship, and the small crew strewn about it, he looks fond. "But I guess in a way, that's what I'm doing now, isn't it? I may no longer be a 'boy prodigy,' but me traveling with you guys, going back up the Grand Line...it's sorta like that journey again."

Sanji blinks.

"The end of that journey...maybe you're on it with me, right now." Thatch winks.

Sanji snorts. "That's so cheesy," he says, but he doesn't meant it, not really, because he can't deny the giddiness that begins welling up in him at the thought.

Because what adult doesn't still have a child inside them, buried underneath layers of years, still craving those wishful dreams from long ago?

There's a moment of silence, before both cooks break out into laughter, carefree and boyish.

And so their journey continues onward.

~~

~~

Aaand that's a wrap! For this lil story series within this ever growing AU at least!

It may be a cheesy ending, but it still feels like an ending of sorts? which, is something I usually never actually manage to write to, everything I write is usually either short or abandoned....so I Feel Accomplished ^ ^;;

If you managed to get through it all, thanks so much for reading and sticking with this!!!! ;A; I’m definitely extremely curious to know if you have any thoughts regarding my take on Thatch's past, or anything else, because as always any comments are HUGELY appreciated!

Thanks again!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~