#i've felt the same way when people pick up my things that are Deeply Personal

[permanentlylatetotheparty]

you can feel her Anxiety through the screen

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

just out of curiosity – why do you like sukugo??

i've just never seen any of the accounts i follow/my mutuals celebrate this pairing so i'm really curious!

:))))))))) i smiled so wide getting this ask anon. PLS DON’T BE ALARMED just take my hand and let me tell you abt two deeply violent homoerotic men….

okay so when it comes to sukugo i just. ADORE their dynamic and relationship. it’s one of my favorites in the entire manga and i truly think akutami COOKED with it . not only the shinjuku fight itself (which is, ofc, what sold me on the ship) but also the foreshadowing beforehand!!! like sukuna telling gojo that he’ll be the first one he kills…. the two of them making the same kind of pose in their respective volume covers (vol. 4 & 14….. another parallel which is even more devastating when you remember that the number four is associated with death in japan)….. both of them being referred to as ”the strongest.”

i actually didn’t pick up on a lot of it until we got to shinjuku!! but i just think akutami teased at their importance to each other so well and so early on.

WITH THAT BEING SAID . their dynamic. their parallels. yes. they’re both the strongest and the most isolated and those two things are synonymous. it ties into one of the most central themes of jjk that equates absolute strenght to absolute solitude — it’s a kind of curse. a curse and a blessing. and they both have it.

the main difference is that gojo knows what it’s like to be understood and loved — but sukuna doesn’t. so he can’t feel lonely. he’s never known what it’s like to not be alone. but gojo has!!! gojo has felt love and felt what it’s like to be understood, and when geto died a part of him died too. he’ll always be lonely. he’s the loneliest character in the series. and when he looks at sukuna he sees the exact same isolation that’s plagued him since the moment he was born. so what does he do about it?

he tries to teach sukuna about love.

^ and THAT’S . the most delicious dynamic ever. i take no criticism. i’ll die on the hill that this concept and their dynamic is one of the absolute highlights of jjk. it’s so GOOD. it’s so insanely good. gojo wants to teach sukuna about love/cure him from his solitude by killing him. and vice versa. it’s inherently violent and inherently tender and it makes me INSANE. to me that’s the greatest appeal of sukugo!!!! violence as tenderness is a trope very near and dear to my heart (and also VERY frequently associated w queer subtext in media…. just putting that out there……) and they do it so good. they have a blast killing each other.

also i just NEED to say how much i love the ”teach you about love” line. it’s one of my favorites in the manga and akutami utilizes it so well!! he repeats it over and over as foreshadowing and to build up the sukugo dynamic. the final reveal that gojo is ”the one who will teach [sukuna] about love” made me weep (even though it was so obvious)…. it’s just so deeply. idk. it just says so much about gojo as a character :(( the fact that he wanted to teach sukuna about love. i’ve seen some people who think that part is ooc but i disagree completely!! gojo has never concerned himself w the morals of others. not really. toji kills riko but gojo still has a respect for him and allows him to say his final words. he never hated geto despite his crimes. he supports yuji fully no matter how many people die because of him. etcetc. same with all his students.

gojo looks at sukuna and sees someone who is just as alone as he is. so deeply, deeply alone. him wanting to change that is not ooc in the slighest because that’s quite literally what drives gojo as a character:

he’s just such a genuinely good person at his core. and it coexists with the way he sometimes disregards morality. this is a hot take but i genuinely think gojo’s character blossomed fully in his battle with sukuna….. i don’t see him as ooc in it at all. he genuinely wanted to reach sukuna!! he knew he was the only one who could even hope to do so. and he tried his best.

and, i would argue that he succeeded.

SEGWAY TIMEEEEEEEEE LET’S GO. okay so let’s talk abt one of my favorite panels in the jjk manga, the panel that solidified sukugo as one of my favorite pairings Of All Time:

(two diff translations bc i love them both :3)

THIS. wow. wow. wow. i could talk abt this panel alone for hours and hours but i’ll try to be coherent……

there’s just? so much meaning to be found here??? for both of them????? not only is it a fundamental moment for gojo — being praised and acknowledged and accepted as himself rather than the strongest — but it’s also proof that gojo did reach sukuna!!! he’ll remember him forever. sukuna will never fully be entirely isolated because even millenia into the future he’ll still remember gojo. gojo nestled his way into sukuna’s heart.

and that’s just . so romantic isn’t it???? so beautiful???????? this is the culmination of gojo’s efforts; the most genuine expression we’ve ever seen on sukuna’s face. he actually looks happy.

i cried seeing that panel btw 😭😭 not a joke!! i was already crying when i started chapter 236 bc i knew how it’d end but this panel (+ the one w geto cheering gojo on in his cult leader fit) made me SOB. not exaggerating. i’ve never cried so much reading a manga… T_T

so!!!! yeah. i just love sukugo. their dynamic is so interesting and beautiful and i can never get enough of it. sometimes i love it more than stsg… don’t tell geto that though……..

[nothorses]

i see you've reblogged a very weird and racist post about what it means to be a "settler" and i would encourage you to engage more deeply with Native & Indigenous thinkers! "settler" isn't just like a static inborn unchangeable biological fact. it's a specific relationship to land, nature, governance, Indigenous people, etc

(For other people's reference, this is the post in question)

I 100% agree with you that the definition of "settler" the article is discussing is not the like, actual definition- particularly in the context of indigenous/native American people (at least that I've read anything by). I think it's a shitty and inherently flawed understanding of the word, it doesn't serve anyone, and my understanding of the article is that it's critiquing the same thing: a critically, and perhaps intentionally, flawed understanding of a word that has a very different meaning. (They use phrasing like "under this definition of the word" or similar whenever they mention it, and allude to the fact that actual indigenous/native American folks are being left out of the conversation).

I think the article could have (and should have) been clearer about this point, because it feels like it's never very direct in this, and that absolutely does leave room for some people to interpret this as "the concept of 'settlers' is antisemitic".

What I'm picking up on could just be nothing, but, imo, it's really not absent from the author's intent. It seems more like they were focused on the issue being discussed ("the way this term is being misused hurts Jewish people, please think about the flaws in your understanding of this word") and didn't think it was as important to define a more accurate understanding of the word where it might invite a debate about semantics- or maybe because they don't have a solid enough alternative understanding to provide.

I don't think it's entirely fair to jump from "author critiques flawed understanding of settlers" to "author argues that the concept of settlers is inherently harmful", and I think the perspective they're offering is a very real and important one to hear out. I'll add that I've personally seen this misunderstanding of "settler" trotted out in legitimately harmful ways, in real life; I very recently had a supervisor use this definition of "settler" in staff training, multiple times, in a program that prides itself on cultivating real connections with local tribes to inform their curriculum, to imply that everyone's ultimate goal should be to leave this land and go back to our "ancestral homelands" (when presented with the idea that some people just don't have any way of knowing where that is, she suggested "dreaming about your past lives" and, failing that, shrooms).

But like, I can also very much see where they're not actually making the effort to actively defend the very real concept underneath the common misunderstanding of it, and how that can- and probably has- caused harm. And I'm sorry if you or anyone else has felt that harm.

I also invite disagreement and discussion here, and I recognize that my perspective is likely to have blind spots given I'm neither Jewish nor indigenous.

[666writingcafe]

Tea Party

Luke

"Feast your eyes upon my new creation: the Hallelujah Chocolate Mousse Cake!" I announce to my two esteemed guests and Solomon. "I made some mint tea as well, since it pairs well with chocolate cake."

"It's so beautifully decorated," Simeon compliments as he helps himself to a slice. "These roses you made out of icing look like the real thing."

The truth is, the only reason why I went through all the trouble of preparing a new type of cake is because I overheard Simeon and Solomon talking about having MC over for tea.

Out of everyone involved in the exchange program, they are the one person that doesn't tease me and treat me like a baby. Because I'm not. Yes, I'm still considered a child in the eyes of the Celestial Realm--not even a teenager yet--but that shouldn't give people a free pass to pick on me.

MC seems to be the only one to recognize and respect that. Not even Simeon takes me seriously.

"So, a little birdie told me that you got each of the brothers to give you what they valued most," Simeon says, smiling as he's taking a sip of his tea.

"You really are special to them, aren't you?" Solomon asks MC, mirroring Simeon's expression. MC calmly nods their head.

"It would appear so, yes." They set their plate down on the coffee table and clasp their hands together, resting them on their lap. "It might be weird for me to say, but I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Because they're demons?" I ask. Simeon shoots me a stern look, but MC maintains their composure.

"They're not just any demons, Luke. They are the Avatars of Sin. To know that they care so deeply about me...well, it's a bit daunting."

"Do you not think you're worthy?" Simeon has a curious look on his face, almost as if he's testing MC. They shake their head.

"It's not that. Not entirely." MC takes a deep breath. "By accepting the power that has been granted to me, I've made myself a target. If someone wanted to, they could use me to hurt the people I care about. Not just the brothers, but you guys, too."

Silence.

Judging by the look on Simeon and Solomon's faces, they had no idea that MC felt that way.

However, this isn't news to me. I've sensed these emotions in MC all along.

I initially didn't understand why we were heading to the Devildom, but I knew Simeon's explanation was false. And then, as Barbatos sent the two of us away to Purgatory Hall, I saw it for the first time: a dark, faceless, shadowy figure hovering around MC.

I didn't tell anyone about it, because I knew they would have dismissed it as an illusion, a trick of the light. But I know it was real, because even in the most well-lit rooms, it was right there alongside MC.

And it was trying to swallow them up.

Whether that was a manifestation of their magic or their emotions, I don't think I'll ever know. I often get shut away from those type of conversations because people think I'm too young to understand.

But now they have the Ring of Light to protect them. That should be enough, right?

There's a part of me that doesn't think so. I've been wondering why I was able to see the shadowy figure, so in my spare time, I've done some research, and I keep coming to the same conclusion.

As MC excuses themselves and heads out of Purgatory Hall, I know that now's the time to ask them. Otherwise, who knows when I'll get another opportunity?

Thankfully, I have a legitimate reason to follow MC, for I have an appointment with Barbatos at the Demon Lord's castle.

[danielt1985]

Learning To Love Minecraft Again (A Thread)

Written by Daniel T. Gaming

I've been recently falling in love with Minecraft again. After so long of not playing it. I decided to pick it back up & play it again, and It has been one of my favorite things to play in SO long. However, I did a few things to spruce up my newly found interest.

1. A Fresh Client I had decided to switch over from the tradition Minecraft launcher to the ATLauncher, a mod-eccentric client. And while it may look a tad confusing, it's actually very handy. I am now able to save as many different versions of Minecraft I wanted without my save files or mods controlling one another, unlike the official Minecraft launcher. on top of that, the official launcher also installs a bunch of useless Xbox junk because, well, Microsoft.

2. Bringing Back The Old With the ATLauncher's ability to save as many versions of Minecraft with their own dedicated files & saves, I am now safely able to play older versions of Minecraft as my heart desires.

Right now, I'm playing 2 different versions, Beta 1.7.3 (A version regarded by a LOT of people as one of the best versions of Minecraft to play today), and Release 1.5.2 (The first ever version of the game I EVER played back in 2012). I will still pick up & play Release 1.20 cuz I do like a lot of the new decor pieces & things, but if I ever just want to play a standard game of Minecraft, I have these 2 versions to keep me occupied.

There's also the old legacy versions from Consoles that people are coming back to, but I haven't gotten to those yet, but planned on them soon.

3. Making My Own Goals

My mind has always saw that "Beating the Ender Dragon" was the ultimate goal of Minecraft, and that once it's done, it's done. And while a part of me still feels that way, I'm slowly moving away from that, because that mindset has literally KILLED so many of my past Minecraft maps, and I deeply regret it.

So I started to make my own goals & my own rules. My current survival map never had a bulk smelting machine, so I added one. I never got to refine my mine & make it more like an actual mineshaft, so I got to go & do that.

I don't just want to make Minecraft a point A -> B kinda game. I want to make it a game about creating as much stuff as you can. There are people in this world who have been able to build worlds that have taken them over a DECADE to finish... so why not give yourself that same level of encouragement?

4. Playing With Friends I recently managed to get a personal Minecraft server going on an old PC. And playing with my friends has been an AMAZING experience. It's actually pretty cheap to run a server nowadays, and Bedrock editions now have general multiplayer support, so playing with friends is now becoming even EASIER than ever before.

5. Modding Makes The Difference Although I haven't got to do this one yet, I *am* planning on it, as it's been talked about by a LOT of people. There are actually a handful of mods out there that are not just for entertainment, but for bringing fresh vanilla-eccentric changes to Minecraft to keep its charm that it had in its early stages. Two that I have heard of are ReIndev & Better Than Adventure. Both of which actually run off of Beta 1.7.3 too, so that's neat!

I think personally, what these two mods are doing are GREAT, and I cannot wait to play them.

6. Making It Personal

Personally, I've been handling the game on a more personal level, and not too personal to where it's overbearing, but I mean as in I like to just do traditional fan things that I've done long ago. Watch Minecraft videos, pull out the old Minecraft merch I had from when I was young, listen to the soundtrack, etc.

I haven't felt this attached to Minecraft in SO long, but I am glad it's coming back. I might make this whole thing into a video, but until then, I wanted to make this thread to tell you all how I managed to finally get back in touch with Minecraft.

[stellaluna33]

I was asked if I think Rory was really still "in love" with Jess in Season 6 and AYITL, and, well... My answer is a bit... It's complicated. Haha! Do I think she was still actively, consciously IN love with him then? Well, to that particular question I have to say No. But I honestly don't think that's the right question here. I don't think it matters in the long run. Do I think she's completely OVER him and could never be in love with him again? The answer to that is ALSO No. This got a little long, so forgive me!

Is Rory still attracted to Jess? Yes, I think so. Do they still have a deep, intuitive connection? It seems obvious that YES, they do. Milo has said (and I agree) that once you've had as deep of a connection as Rory and Jess had, you never really lose that, and they will always love each other on SOME level. And I absolutely believe that Rory still does, and always will, love Jess in that sense. He's a person that's very important to her and for whom she cares deeply. But that's different, of course, from being IN Love with someone.

The thing is, though, that human relationships and emotions are very changeable and subject to circumstance. While acknowledging that my experiences won't be universal, I think for a lot of people who aren't aroace, the tipping point between platonic and romantic in friendships with people you find attractive can sometimes be a finer line than you might think. (I say SOMETIMES, because I do not quite agree with Harry Burns on this!) I am a woman who is attracted to men, and I've had some friendships with men without feeling anything more than platonic attraction, and I've had other friendships that, well... felt like they could probably go either way, if the circumstances were different. I have to be more careful with those friendships and make the decision not to dwell on feelings of attraction or put myself in situations with too much emotional intimacy, because which side of the line we're on is largely circumstantial. We CHOOSE not to think of each other as romantic prospects. (In the same way that I CHOSE to commit to my husband and continue to make that choice every day.) And that? That is the kind of "friendship" Rory and Jess have. They treat each other as friends because they have made the decision to treat each other as friends, because they currently (as of the Revival) believe that to be for the best and/or to respect the other person's perceived wishes. This is easier because they haven't been spending a lot of time together (perhaps even intentionally). Physical and emotional distance makes it easier to maintain emotional boundaries. If they were in a situation that had them spending a lot more time together, though? (Say, if they had "a work thing" between them...) I absolutely believe they might be teetering on the edge of that fence again. All it would take is a push in the right direction. As for personal differences between them, Rory has always been very good at compartmentalizing her feelings and not dwelling on them. Jess, however, is much less so. He dwells. (OHHHH, he dwells!) That's just their personalities. But I honestly think Jess had probably been attempting to move on too (I have real life friends who were in this situation, now married, but I'll talk about that another time.)

Now how does Logan fit into this? Well, in Season 6, it was complicated. Rory was officially Logan's girlfriend, and her allegiance (however shaky) tends to be to her official boyfriend (she couldn't bring herself to break up with Dean either). Her attraction to Jess was still pretty obvious, however (Logan definitely picked up on it), and that one encounter resulted in Rory and Logan separating (or breaking up, depending on who you asked or when...). 6.18 is more complicated, but my opinion is NOT that Rory went to Philly to intentionally "use" Jess. She SAID she "just wanted to see [his] place, but then... this." That doesn't sound like a plan to me. I think she found herself teetering on the edge of that attraction that's ALWAYS there between them, thought, "And why shouldn't I give in? Logan certainly would..." but then couldn't go through with it. Because yeah, she COULD fall in love with Jess again if she let herself, but she WAS still in love with Logan already, even though she didn't want to be anymore. She was still in a committed relationship with Logan, and it was a sexual one. It's not really popular right now to talk about the bonding aspects of sex (oxytocin release, etc.), but it is legitimately a thing for some people. Some people cannot separate the physical act of sex from emotional attachment, and the show had established that Rory was one of those people. She could not (in college at least) do "casual," and she'd been having sex with him for over a year.

The affair in AYITL is something else again. Because while I've said that Rory wasn't "in love" (yet?) with Jess in the Revival, I actually don't think she was really still in love with Logan either. Alexis Bledel herself said that she thought Rory was just "going through the motions" and clinging to something familiar and comfortable, and I agree. And this is (unfortunately) in character for Rory. Her life was spinning out of control (her grandfather dying, her career uncertain) and she was clinging to the emotional familiarity of Logan, the same way she clung to Dean when her life was in upheaval in Season 4, and she didn't do that because she was "still in love with Dean" (even though she convinced herself she was. She had to). Rory (for the first time maybe ever?!) was the one to end things with Logan in the Revival. I do think she'll probably always love him a little, in the same way she'll always love Jess a little (that kind of Love is ever-expanding), but she wasn't IN Love with him anymore and... It just wasn't right, and she knew it. Their goodbye was bittersweet, but she didn't seem heartbroken, she seemed at PEACE with letting go of him and ready to move on with her life. Love can be overpowering, it's true, but... It also has so much more to do with circumstance and personal choice than we sometimes want to admit. So, yeah. No, Rory and Jess aren't "in love" in AYITL. But in my 30+ years of life experience, that doesn't really mean a dang thing.

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 22

Apparently Barb had been right. Neither Dwayne nor Lloyd seemed to care that I had been seeing Javi. Not that Lloyd mentioned anything, and truthfully I wasn't even sure if he knew. I leave work that day just the same as any other day. Besides the nagging feeling that this isn't over, and my sad suspicion over why I still haven't seen or heard from Javi, everything else was normal. Only two people asked me about my fainting today, too. No weird looks this time either. I had been mostly behind the scenes today, so I didn't see Lana, but I texted her to ask if she had heard anything and she hadn't. Everyone truly was busy at work. Maybe it was my average, L.A.-free upbringing, but I expected a much larger scandal my first day back.

I take a shower first thing upon arriving home. L.A. was nothing compared to the Italian heat, but I could still use a bit of a clean. Plus, it would distract me from the fact that I still have not heard from Javi. Amidst everything, I'm still hurt by that fact. Barb and Dwayne admitted that his behavior showed some sort of interest, but I like to think I know his character better than them. Meaning, maybe he would react like that to almost anyone fainting. I decide to double-shampoo my hair to avoid diving too deeply into that thought. After I dry off, a put on some sleep shorts and a plain white t-shirt before putting on the kettle to make some tea. I'm not much of a chef, but I feel like I should really try to cook tonight in an additional effort to keep my mind off things. Especially now that I know I can still afford groceries. I've been staring at my near-bare refrigerator for about thirty seconds when my phone lights up. I nearly drop a jar of pickles when I see who it's from.

Javi: Can we talk?

My heart practically ricochets out of my chest. Will I look desperate if I reply right away? Has he been looking for a way out of...whatever this is? Or maybe he's upset that he had to have multiple conversations with Dwayne, one being with their PR manager. My kettle screams from the stove, and I jump almost high enough to land straight on my countertop. I quickly move to set it aside. I put a tea bag into a mug, taking a deep breath as I pour the steaming water in. I figure that a cup of tea's worth of time in between my response is enough. Or it's at least all I can stand. As soon as the kettle is set back on the stove, I race to reply.

I type out of a few options, but err on the side of caution.

Me: Of course. Should I call you?

Javi types for a minute or so before the bubbles disappear. I wonder if it's possible for me to hold my breath for a solid two minutes without fainting again.

Finally, 90 agonizing-seconds later, he replies.

Javi: Would it be alright if we spoke in person?

Me: I think that would be best. Do you want to meet in your trailer tomorrow?

Javi: Actually, I'm around the corner of your place. I felt like going for a drive. There's no pressure for you to let me in. But would it be okay if I came to see you now?

Forget holding my breath, I was now choking on it. But even though my nervous system hummed with anxiety, it was also mixed with anticipation. So much so that I forego the reality that Javi would be seeing my post-nervous breakdown studio apartment for the first time and respond with:

Me: Let me know when you're here.

I don't bother rushing for a hair dryer or a change of clothes. Partially because there's no way I would have the time, but also because he's already seen me like this. Granted it was under far better circumstances. I did take the chance to pick up a few pieces of laundry off the floor, though. I just set them in the basket when my doorbell rang. I buzzed him in without using the speaker, and less than a minute later there was a soft knock at my door. I took another, cleansing breath before I opened it.

It was as though sunlight itself was on my doorstep.

If sunlight came dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie. His hair had been lightened slightly by the Italian sun, something I hadn't noticed until contrasted with L.A. after dark, and his deep brown eyes were shining. And the romantic, seeking part of me thought they shined a little brighter when I looked at him. But in the split second before either of us spoke, I recognize the worry there. Worry masked as almost deep concentration. Then his lips part, and it looks as though he is...relieved, even though he still holds worry around the corners of his eyes.

"Ava," He sounds breathless. I wait for him to say something else, but nothing comes.

"Hi," I almost whisper. "Would you like to come in?"

"Are you sure? We can always speak tomorrow, but I think production is trying to keep us separate for now. Otherwise I wouldn't be dropping by like this–"

"Javi, it's fine. Come in, please." I open the door wider, gesturing for him to walk through. He does, leaving a glorious path of his smell in his wake. I close my eyes only for a moment while his back is still turned to me, trying to soak it in as much as possible.

Javi takes in all 700-square-feet of my place, shoving his hands in his pockets. I've never seen him look so out of place.

"Take a seat," I say, not needing to point out that my lone sofa was the only option. "Do you want some tea? I just poured myself a cup."

"No, no. Thank you."

So he won't be staying long, then. I grab my mug anyway before joining him on the couch. My body yearns to sit as close to him as possible, but I use the tea as an excuse to sit on the end so I can place it on the side table.

Once I place my mug down, there is nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do except look at him with that same, borderline tortured expression on.

"Are you...okay?" I ask slowly.

That relieved expression comes back, but only for a moment. "Yes, I'm fine. Ava, I–" His voice breaks, and he rubs his hands up and down his thighs. "I was so worried about you."

My heart just about shatters. I bring my knees up to my chest, picking at an invisible strand on the couch. "I wanted to reach out to you, but when you didn't check in I thought...I don't know. I knew you'd be busy with meetings and the flight home–"

"How was the flight home?"

I look at him now, and his gaze is so sincere that I want to cry. "It was okay, actually. The flight home is usually a bit easier. Honestly I was mostly focused on the fact that I either stained your reputation or possibly lost my job. Or both. Suddenly the flight didn't seem so bad." I chuckle darkly. Javi reaches for the hand resting on my knee, hesitantly. I give it to him as if we've done this a hundred times.

"I'm glad. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Don't be sorry for that. I'm so sorry I fainted, that's only happened once before and it made a tense conversation so much worse."

"If I can't apologize for not being on the flight, you definitely can't apologize for fainting." Javi lets out a small chuckle now, and I follow suit.

"Ava," he says, stroking my hand, "I want to explain myself and what happened afterwards. But first..." His hand moves up my arm, giving it a gentle tug. "Can you come here, please?" His voice is gravel, and all I can do is nod, allowing him to pull up against his side. His free hand moves to rest on the side of my face, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear. Javi rests his forehead against mine before placing a featherlight kiss to my lips, almost making my knees press together. Before I can demand more, he pulls back and leaves the same light kiss on my nose, and then my forehead. He strokes my face again, as if confirming that I'm not a mirage.

"You're really alright?" He whispers.

"Yes," I breathe, "Heat exhaustion doesn't last that long."

"I'm glad, but I also mean what happened with Blake."

I sit back a little so I can assess his demeanor. "I wouldn't do that to you. I'm not saying you and I had the 'exclusive' conversation, but I'm not that type of person."

Javi looks wounded. "Ava, I mean are you okay after what happened with him? I wanted to kill him where he stood when he said those things about you."

"Oh," I really hadn't thought about the night he actually showed up to the room. "I was shaken up at the time. Nothing happened besides him grabbing my waist. Luckily Lana was in the room, and she came out of the bathroom right as he was trying...whatever he was trying to do. But I'm okay."

Javi's face was hard as stone. It was a stiff contrast between the gentle patterns his fingers were making on my knee. "Are you going to report him to HR?"

I pause, knowing that I made that decision back in Italy, but also unsure of how Javi might take it.

"No. I already talked it through with Lana that night. He's a creep for sure but...I just don't think it's what I want to do. I'm just glad he was only with us on location."

"For his sake, I'm glad as well." I'm not sure if he meant me to hear that or not.

His icy gaze falls to the floor.

"You know, Dwayne asked me today if I was going to press charges against either one of you. He said you took credit for the full affair. Nothing at work is changing, not even the promotion." I can't help the suspicion in my tone. It was too good to be true, and I knew it since I walked out of the meeting this morning. His gaze doesn't falter as he remains focused on the floor.

"Javi," I gently stroke his arm, trying to ease his tension. "What does that mean? Why would I want to press charges against you?"

He takes a deep breath, glancing into my eyes for a moment before focusing his attention to my hand resting on his arm. "At the cast dinner, the same night Blake came to your room, our PR manager, Tom, was buttering me up about Norwick's marketing plans. The company is pushing for romance rumors between Emma and me to spark interest for the film."

I feel a sharp pain in my gut at the notion, but I fear that any sign of hesitancy will keep him from speaking altogether, so I ignore it.

"Tom was encouraging me to actually get close to her. I've heard this sort of thing before. It was a simple, yet heavy, suggestion at the dinner. But after what happened on the beach with Blake and then your accident..."

My hand stills on his skin, too gripped by what he's saying to continue my previous efforts of easing the tension.

"Ava, I was so worried." His voice cracks just a smidge, "That fucking asshole was so busy trying to lie about your integrity that neither him or Dwayne noticed you were stumbling. You went pale, and you weren't responding to me. And it's my fault. We could have written this entire thing off and Blake would've been seen as a liar if it weren't for my reaction. No one moved fast enough. They weren't calling for a medic, you weren't waking up. I carried you up the beach to the top of the hill and the medic finally met us there. They took you away on one of the carts and I wanted to be with you so badly. I don't want you ever to think that I planned on letting you be alone this entire time, or not reaching out to you. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you woke up alone and I'm sorry for my reaction, I just–I was so worried." Javi's brows are drawn together as tight as I've ever seen them and he's looking at me as if I hold all the answers to some invisible problem. I move my hand from his arm to cup his face, dragging my thumb down his cheek. I'm about to tell him that there is nothing to forgive him for, that I really wasn't harmed by any of it, but he continues.

"Dwayne at that point was convinced of our relationship. Thankfully Blake wasn't quick witted enough to add fuel to the fire. He didn't pretend to be concerned and he didn't insinuate that this meant you and I were together. But he didn't have to. I could see it as soon as I walked back down to the shore and saw Dwayne. I tried to act normal when I returned, especially once Barb texted me that you woke up, but it didn't matter. Dwayne said he would set up a meeting with me directly after we finished the shoot for that day. When I arrived, it was just Dwayne and Tom. I thought it was a good sign until Tom spoke. He told me what a PR nightmare this could be, me being involved with a younger woman. That the press would spin it so I would look as though I took advantage of you. It would damage both of our reputations. That's when Dwayne asked about the nature of our relationship. I said you and I got along very well and that I had feelings for you though I hadn't pushed them and I didn't know where you stood. I didn't deny that we had spent personal time together."

Javi again glances at me, as though checking if this is the part that will make me upset. I give a nod of encouragement.

He sighs before continuing. "Dwayne confessed that Blake has had complaints in the past, mostly about being too emotional to work with, but there were some blind items about him being inappropriate on set." That explains why Dwayne was quick to believe I hadn't been involved with him. "But he said that he also doesn't trust him not to leak some blown out of proportion, 'inside scoop,' about the whole thing. Frankly, Dwayne was concerned that anyone who saw my reaction to your fainting might feel that they have insider information. That's when Tom chimed in with the perfect solution," I can tell by his tone, doused in sarcasm, that it is far from perfect.

"Tom said that the PR team can find other ways to handle Blake, and as for the rest of the possible leaks...He said no one would remember a thing if they see me with Emma. Unfortunately Blake's ridiculous allegations against you fit right into production's plans to market the movie. They want to sell some whirlwind romance between Emma and me, especially since I haven't been seen with anyone publicly."

Javi lets the words hang there, allowing me to process. My stomach is in knots, and I'm still lost.

"So what does that mean for...us?" I ask quietly.

That pained expression is back. "I made them promise that they would stop any scandals against you before they happen, just in case there is a leak from anyone on set. In exchange, I agreed to let them sell the idea of Emma and me. They want us to be affectionate these next two weeks, and they're going to take some fake leaked photos of it. I was consulting with Jonah before and after my meeting with Dwayne and Tom, and he asked me not to contact you until we had reached an agreement. Once we had, it was time to fly back home and Jonah said I shouldn't speak with you until you already spoke with Dwayne. I wasn't actually sure if that was today...I just figured he'd ask to meet with you first thing and I...I couldn't wait any longer. I'm sorry."

He again allows me a moment to process it all. It hurts that Emma and him will be getting closer, even if it's just for show. But it also explains why I still have a job. True to what Barb had said, production didn't really care if we were together. However, they did care if it could reflect poorly on the project. In fairness to them, I understood it. But I was a far ways away from feeling okay about it.

Javi is just watching my face, waiting for my response. Despite the pain in my chest at the thought of him holding Emma, he was here now. His eyes full of concern, his hand still resting on my leg. Both our sides pressed up together.

Hesitantly, I cup his face once more. His eyelids flutter closed, almost as if it's out of relief. I sit up on my knees a little, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. Javi sighs, moving the hand on my leg up a little higher, and his free hand to rest on my back, pulling me in closer.

I pull back so our foreheads are pressed together. "You don't need to be sorry, Javi."

His hand moves in soft circles on my back. "If only you knew how badly I wanted to be with you...how badly I wanted to react when Blake said those things—"

"Shh," I run my hand up his chest before resting it on the side of his neck. "I don't want to think about him. Or Emma...I'm not going to deny that part is incredibly irritating." I chuckle lightly, hoping to hide how jealous that makes me feel.

Javi pulls back a little further so he can look directly into my eyes. "I want to be with you, Ava. In every way that matters, I'm with you. I won't be with her like this," He presses another gentle kiss to my lips, "Or like this," his soft lips graze my jaw. "In fact," He kisses just below my ear, whispering now, "I'll be thinking about you the entire time, and how I'd rather be doing this instead," he moves his lips to my neck, open-mouthed and heady. I tilt my head to the side, allowing him more access. My eyes squeeze shut as he explores up and down my neck, my chest rising and falling at an increasingly rapid pace. When his teeth graze a particularly sensitive area near my collarbone, I can't take it any longer. I shift my weight and swing my leg around his torso so that I'm straddling him on the couch. Javi hums in approval, both his hands moving to my thighs. His warm fingers explore under the hem of my shorts, kneading my thighs and my backside appreciatively.

I surprise myself when I tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, angling him to look at me again and halting his barrage of kisses on my throat. I bend down to kiss him, several degrees rougher than before.

"I missed you," I whine against his lips. My hips buck forward instinctively, and I whine once again at the much-needed friction it provides.

He groans against my mouth in turn. "Missed you so much, baby," he kisses me again, teeth pulling on my bottom lip. "You had me worried sick." Javi's hands yank me forward by my thighs, grinding my core down on his lap again. I whimper, feeling how much he's grown underneath me. I feel as though my body has been taken over by pure desire, all shame left somewhere outside this apartment. I rock back and forth shamelessly, keeping Javi's lips locked on my as I hold onto the back of his neck. In the back of my mind, I know that I should do something else. Offer to go to the bed, kiss his neck back, say something he might want to hear. But I can't. I'm a panting mess. And all I can think about is wanting more of him, right now.

I move my hands from his neck to the hem of my shirt, slowing down my hip movements while I take a moment to pull it over my head.

"Christ," Javi hisses, taking in the sight of my hardened nipples. Not a second passes before he takes one of them in his mouth. His left hand moves to my free nipple, rolling and pinching it as his tongue swirls deliciously around the other. I gasp, tossing my head back and resume grinding back and forth on his now bulging lap. I want to take it out and lick him until he's as desperate as I feel right now, but the thought of stopping feels like it would leave me burning so badly that it would be painful. And judging by how his free hand is encouraging my hips, it doesn't seem like he wants me to stop.

It hasn't been long, but I feel a familiar build in my stomach.

"Javi, I'm," I hit the top of his jeans where he is delectably hard, "Ah, I'm going to...if we don't stop I'm gonna–"

Javi hums against my chest. "Get yourself off, sweetheart. The rest of your orgasms tonight will belong to me." He yanks me forward again, and I combust, my legs shaking on either side of him. My breathing stutters, and Javi keeps his steady pace against my chest, though he moves one of his hands to my thighs to coax me through. I slump against him, forcing his lips to leave my breasts. He draws soothing circles along my back as he chuckles.

"Catch your breath, baby. I'm far from done with you."

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

[yellowocaballero]

just rereading your reverse robins au...i have to say, i don't think anyone understands tim drake like you do. by far the most superior reverse robins au to ever exist. and it's not like tim is the only character you understand either! you get them all! it's earthshattering & spectacular.

I would love to demur and go "oh, surely I'm not the only one who understands Tim Drake and writes a suitably unhinged Tim just as unhinged as in the comics -"

No. I am. You guys need to shape up about writing Tim. What is with this sadboy 'I just want a family' 'where's my coffee' woobie stuff. Go back and read the comics. This man is fucking insane.

I've talked before on this blog about how I finagled writing a Tim who is very much unlike any Tim, but who still feels the same. The man REALLY canonically has an addictive/obsessive personality (complete with deeply escapist tendencies and disregard for if the object of addiction is dangerous/bad for him - it is the profile of an addict). We feel that, because it's his personality in the comics, and even though no sane person would write the kid with a coke addiction we still vibe that it fits with what we know of him. Sometimes choosing to write somebody DRASTICALLY out of character can get down into the core of the character better than anything else.

In fanfic people write Tim as perpetually seeking a family, and I think on one level it's true - he LOVED Dick's (guilty.) attention and brotherhood. But I don't think he really had a father relationship with Bruce and I don't think he really wanted it. Man literally tried to falsify an uncle so he wouldn't have to suffer adult supervision. Bruce kept him at an emotional arms length because of Jason. When his dad tried to reconnect with Tim as a teenager, Tim did love him and felt guilty for the discord he caused, but he just straight up wasn't emotionally invested in the relationship(and not really for abuse reasons - comic split between bad parents/abusive parents is uhh ill-done, but I think Jack is almost never written as an abusive parent with authorial intent, which imho is the important thing). Tim holds adults and family figures at arms length. He's close with Young Justice, but they never even know his ID - he loves them, but he's not intimate with them. He is a cold person and he never really tries for anything different, when he has something different he has NO idea what to do with it, and I don't think he really wants it. But like that doesn't fit Batman sad baby adoption narrative soooo

I think at the end of the day what Tim is defined by is loss and absence, and it can never be defined by presence because Tim is no longer a person who can accept that. He is the single most interconnected character in the Batfam (DC was pushing for a lot of #teenheroes at the time and he was buddies with ALL of them), but all of those relationships have an absence where Tim is pathologically incapable of vulnerability. His life is comedically, comic book sad - he has lost a dad, a mom, a step-mom, an adoptive dad (400% PARENTAL MORTALITY RATE), a girlfriend, a best friend, and another best friend. That is NUTS. And cuz comics are kinda whatever about things, he just goes on his way. Comics don't acknowledge these things. But what you end up with is a Tim, who one way or another is always alone, and who always accepts that.

I couldn't quite express everything I wanted to express with Tim in the prophetic spring, but by the Cass story I had improved as a writer enough to show what I wanted to show. Tim is an old character with a lot of stuff going on, so I could basically pick any emotional throughline I wanted, but I picked for me what I think has defined his life. Tim's story was about a child who had been depressed since he could remember. Tim is the story of a lot of victims of emotional neglect and who live their lives in deep depression that is never acknowledged. He is never vulnerable for a second (even with Cass - and that's what Cass struggles with during that story, how vulnerability isn't knowing but saying), and the depression is sublimated/repressed and never acknowledged cuz Bruce does the same damn thing and he didn't notice lol.

In a way, in that story, Tim's mental health and drug addiction spiral is a good thing. Tim loudly and publicly developing a drug addiction was his way of asking for help, his way of finally screaming that he was in pain. Worst possible way. But it was kind of the only way he could, because Tim didn't know how to ask for help, because he didn't know how to be vulnerable. He could only figure out how to be push everybody away and try to violently throw them out of his life and how to be cruel to them, and it's fucked up that it was his way of asking for help - but Cass knew, and Cass understood. And Cass wasn't going to ignore it anymore.

There are a lot of insanely reliable things about me and it is that I CANNOT shut up when I talk about Tim. Thanks for reading this long-ass diatribe jakldfjlasdf.

[mejomonster]

I started Koisenu Futari and I wish alloromantic people could see like the first 10 minutes alone. So much of our main characters discomfort at being assumed to be flirting, being pressured to pick up on signs and be putting out signs, social norms and expectations, how people sometimes actively conflict with your behavior if you simply live your life without thinking in romantic terms/acting flirtatious/assuming, is what all kinds of aromantic people deal with. And the show does a good immediate job of showing how disruptive to a person's daily life that can be - just being your normal self, and people getting mad at you for not reading something they never said out loud, or assuming things of you, assuming a future for you and being annoyed you're not fulfilling it, society acting like your current life and life path isn't normal, etc.

Personal reaction below cut o3o:

On a different note just my personal reaction now lol. I'm demiromantic and god the opening to this drama REALLY hammers home why I hate a majority of fluff romance shows. A lot of them are "love at first sight" and rely on SO many situations that also happen in the beginning of this drama, but in this drama the main character acts like me: she's just being her normal self and this stuff is all pushed upon her and she just rejects it and step out of the sudden assumptions people make kindly and tries to move on. In so many "fluff romance love at first sight" things the main person is bafflingly smitten or overwhelmed and I get it cause it's a trope we are taught to understand after seeing so many times, but I don't relate to it and I've never experienced it and I'm never going to lol. This main characters experience is way more representative of how id react if unfortunately I ran into such situations. It's fucking refreshing.

Also I deeply love how much she enjoys her life, is happy with her friend, wants to move out with her friend. I felt just like her as I transitioned that part of life, and it's nice to just see it. In my social circle it's normal for people to move in with friends, prioritize friends like family (not just lovers), so her moving is what I did and makes sense to me. But I'm also very aware of the assumption friends may move out when they get a partner, will prioritize that more, and that society is generally expecting that so even when you're not doing it there's outsiders insisting it's not reliable or it's an odd living arrangement (like her family was). I like that she enjoys the life she's built.

It hurts my heart, but I relate and understand, to when she meets the man at the supermarket who says he believes there's people who don't fall in love. It's that moment when you realize you may not be alone, what you feel may be normal and actually have WORDS and concepts to describe it and a community of people like you! And suddenly you feel more like wow yeah I exist, my feelings are genuine, I am not alone and weird I am one of many people many tons who have felt like this and do and will and it's just like. That's why aces belong in lgbtq spaces (among many reasons). There is no space for people who feel aromatic or asexual and on that spectrum, in the majority of mainstream straight spaces. In the sense it still takes a person living into her adult life to even HEAR that how she feels is something ANOTHER PERSON also feels. It can take people decades to find out how they experience attraction or don't has a label, has a community, has people who can relate to them. And before even that just... simply can be a thing. I didn't know I was demi when I was a teen I just assumed all people felt like me, was confused when a lot of people seemed Not To experience stuff the same, and settled on maybe I was just a bit odd. Then one day I found a word for it and realized goddamn people Do feel this besides me, I'm not the only one who can't relate. It was the same experience being bi, not knowing ppl could like multiple genders until I found the bi community, and feeling "wrong" for liking multiple when adults and schoolmates would say "just pick" for ages. Or being trans, thinking oh whatever it was just my particular thing to cry about my gender and pray to be different, cause no one said to me that my gender could be different than what people call me as. So I just felt broken and confused until I learned there were words for my feeling, for who I was, and that I wasn't broken I was just something I had no words for before. Just like... people should be able to access community and information and feel less alone and more understood and accepted for being themselves.

The main girl in this feeling alone and not great every time people pressure her about romance and bring up how she doesn't act like them, I feel it in my heart. And I hope for whoever needs to see it, they see her isolation and want her and people who go through what she does to feel less of it. To feel more understood, to understand themselves more and have an easier time knowing how they feel is okay and its the fucked up pressures not understanding them that's frustrating.

Anyway I'm not even done with ep 1 just. Wow I feel like a lot of ppl could benefit a little just from seeing that first part.

[kanerallels]

I've been reading one of your Kanera writings prompt. My fave is It's The Way You're Smiling at Me 😘 It was so interesting to me. I love the part Kanan say a queen of godness, Ezra's doing kind of matchmaker of Kanan and Hera and told the others how much they like each other. Plus Sabine falsely accused Kanan as a theif and Ezra's in fencing club.

If you don't mind, would you like to write about Kanan and Hera watching Ezra's fencing club as they express their feelings each other ? I bet it would be wonderful 😘

Thanks for the ask!! I know you sent this like a million years ago but I finally finished the fic, and I hope you enjoy it! Happy Kanera Week!

Read on AO3!

@kaneraweek

There were many times in his life where Kanan had found himself in truly strange situations— in fact, he’d been told by more than a few people that he had something of a knack for it. 

He’d met his current housemate when they’d both wound up at the same Waffle House around midnight after getting into a brawl at the bar Kanan had worked at at the time. He’d gotten his job at Kasmiri Locks when one of the owners— who happened to be an old friend of his— had dared him to break into the other owner’s shed to show off his lock-picking skills. And he was currently on his way to a fencing match that he’d been invited to after being hit in the face with a frying pan while he was working.

At this point, he was learning to just accept these things.

More or less, anyways. He was still kind of recovering from the frying pan incident— and not because of the mild concussion.

No, the real thing Kanan couldn’t stop thinking about, the thing that had him driving to a high school on a Saturday afternoon when he would usually be staying in or working a shift at Okadiah’s bar, was Hera Syndulla.

She had been the person who’d called him, saying that she’d locked herself out of her house with a fairly normal hint of embarrassment. And from the moment she spoke, Kanan had been blown away.

Her voice— so unlike the usual irritated customers at Kasmiri Locks— had caught a hold of him, drawing his attention irresistibly. Before he’d known what he was doing, Kanan had started to flirt, the way he had when he was much younger and more foolish.

This hadn’t exactly changed when he got to the house and saw that she was the most stunningly gorgeous woman he’d ever met. And not just that— she’d handled his flirting with remarkable poise, and Kanan could tell that she cared deeply about her kids. 

She was lovely and smart and tough, and Kanan was still absolutely floored that he’d gotten her number. He’d fully expected to be shot down, even when her foster son made a point of telling him that she was single. Multiple times.

But somehow, against all odds, he had her number scribbled on his palm in fading blue ink— not that it mattered. He’d long since committed it to memory, which his housemate Dark had mocked him for relentlessly.

They’d texted back and forth a few times, just to confirm the location of the fencing match. Neither of them had said much of anything else just yet— Kanan wasn’t sure why. It almost felt like they were both trying to avoid talking about just why he was coming to this, like they were holding their breath, each waiting for the other to make the next move.

And whatever that next move was, Kanan really, really didn’t want to screw it up.

I guess here goes nothing, he thought as he pulled into the parking lot of Lothal High School. It took him a few minutes to find a parking spot— there were more cars than he would have expected for a high school fencing match. But he hadn’t been in town for long— maybe there was more hype around this than he thought.

It took him a few more minutes of searching before he finally found a parking spot. Pulling in, he switched off the truck and checked the time on his phone— he still had a few minutes before the match started. So I’m not late— yet, he thought, jumping out of the truck and slamming the door shut behind him.

He made his way through the parking lot, weaving between cars. Halfway to the school entrance Kanan caught sight of a familiar vehicle.

Hera’s car sat neatly parked in the middle of the lot. The silver minivan was an older model, but still clearly in good shape, and clearly recognizable thanks to the stickers on the back window. One of them was an artistic rendering of an orange bird with its wings outstretched, the tips like flickering flames.

Below them, painted onto the metal, was a tiny sketch that looked like it was inspired by those sticker figure families that Kanan had seen a hundred times on the back of client’s cars. This one, however, was a little different. For one, it was far more detailed, and Kanan came a little closer to look at it.

It was clear right away which one was Hera. She was standing behind the others, hands on her hips, an expression on her face that was definitely protective. Her green-tipped hair was swept up in a messy bun with a green bandana, and she had a wrench in one hand. At her feet sat an orange cat that glowered at Kanan with such malevolence that he almost took a step back.

In front of her were Sabine— brightly colored, both in hair and in garb. She was surrounded by a record player, a can of spray paint, and what looked like the logo from a nearby martial arts place Kanan recognized— and Ezra. The kid was wearing the same orange hoodie he’d worn when Kanan first met the family, had a fencing foil in one hand, and a sign that Kanan couldn’t quite read in his other hand.

Zeb stood a little off to the side, but still with the group. His arms were folded, but he was smiling, and wore a sleeveless U.S Marines hoodie that showed off the tattoos on his arms.

This is pretty cool, Kanan thought, studying it for a moment longer. And then he remembered what time it was, which galvanized him into action and towards the school.

The front door was locked, so Kanan had to loop around until he found an unlocked side door. From there, it was just a matter of finding the gym. Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as it looked.

He was in the middle of wandering the hallways, hoping against hope that he’d accidentally find his way to the right room, when he heard someone behind him.“Kanan! There you are, mate!”

Kanan turned at the sound of Zeb’s voice. The big man was strolling towards him, wearing a flannel shirt over a t-shirt emblazoned with the words “U.S. Marines”. Waving, he said, “About time you got here— Hera and the others were starting to get worried. Let me guess— you got lost?”

“In my defense, I didn’t go to school here,” Kanan said, following him as they started down the hall. “My school was less… big. And it didn’t have a gym.”

Sending him a sideways glance, Zeb asked, “What kind of school doesn’t have a gym?”

“The kind that’s actually your house.”

“Guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

Shoving open the door, Zeb led Kanan into the massive, arched shape of the high school’s gym. To either side of them were the bleachers, and Kanan spotted Hera right away.

It helped that the bleachers weren’t too crowded, but he had a feeling he would have picked her out anyways. Her curly hair was twisted back with a green bandana, and she had a bomber jacket folded across her knees. 

She didn’t see him and Zeb as they climbed the bleacher’s steps. Instead, her gaze was focused on the gym before her as she half leaned forward, intent on watching the scene in front of them.

“The kid start yet?” Zeb asked as they approached, and Hera’s gaze snapped back up to them— first to Zeb, and then to Kanan. A smile crossed  her face as she met his gaze, and Kanan felt his heart skip a beat. 

“Not yet,” she told Zeb. As the bigger man slid past her, sitting down on her other side, Hera said, “Good to see you made it.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Kanan said, sitting next to her. “Got a little lost.”

“I’m just glad you made it,” Hera told him. “Ezra’s been talking about this all week.”

“She says, like she hasn’t been thinking about it all week, too,” Sabine chipped in. Kanan followed the sound of her voice to where she was sitting on Zeb’s other side, paint splattered high tops propped up on the seat in front of her. He was also pretty sure she’d changed her hair color in the time since he’d first met her— the ombre blue-green looked fresh. Giving Kanan a half wave, she said, “Hey. How’s your head?”

Grinning, Kanan said, “Less sore, but still a little sensitive. You and your frying pan pack a wallop.”

Sabine looked distinctly pleased by that statement, and Hera sighed. “Please try and remember that he easily could have sued us for that.”

“Pretty sure I was justified,” Sabine said. “I mean, it looked like he was a stranger breaking into our house. It would probably hold up in court.”

“Not too sure about that,” Zeb said. “Looks like they’re finally getting started out there.”

Kanan turned, following his nod to the open gym before them. There were two small clusters of fencers, each already wearing their protective gear, and most wearing their masks. He spotted a familiar head of dark blue-black hair— Ezra was in the larger of the two groups, bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes.

“Where’s the other group from?” Kanan asked Hera, nodding to the smaller crowd. They wore red armbands, probably to distinguish them from the other group, who wore orange.

“Imperial Academy— a private school a few towns away,” Hera replied. “They’re one of the only schools that have fencers around Ezra’s age, so we go up against them pretty often. Which has resulted in… a few rivalries.”

“No, the fact they’re massive jerks caused the rivalries,” Sabine chipped in. “Well, some of them aren’t totally awful. But most of them are. Which is why it’s so satisfying to watch Ezra and the Skywalker kids wipe the floor with them.”

Lifting an eyebrow at Kanan, Hera said, “As you can see, it’s not just the fencers who get competitive.”

Kanan nearly snorted, and hastily turned into a cough. “I can imagine,” he said gravely. “How does he do?”

“Pretty well,” Hera said, a look of pride flashing across her face. “He’s one of the better ones in the school, and he spends a lot of time practicing. We’ve looked into finding him a private coach, but it’s never quite worked out.”

Rubbing at his chin thoughtfully, Kanan said, “In my experience, that helps, but it’s not the be all, end all of fencing. Does this team have a coach?”

Hera nodded, pointing towards a tall redhead standing on the sidelines of the gym. “Cal Kestis. He’s part time, though— he also teaches and coaches a few other sports. His wife and foster daughter should be in the stands somewhere— we’ve had them over for dinner a few times.”

“Merrin is awesome,” Sabine said. “She helped me pick out the throwing stars I bought.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Kanan said, “I see I was lucky it was just a frying pan. Kestis, you say? I think I knew a Kestis, back in my fencing days. He was good, too. If they’re the same, you’re lucky to have him.”

“Don’t we know it,” Hera said. “Oh— it looks like the pools are starting.”

Kanan pulled his attention back to where the two groups of fencers were being sorted, by a referee and two other others he assumed were judges, into groups. This was, he recalled, the first part of any fencing tournament. Each person in a group would have the chance to fence all of the others in three minute rounds, and the points they racked up would determine who they fenced in the next stage.

It had been a long time since he fenced. But he still remembered the surge of excitement he’d gotten at the starting of these matches, the thrill of adrenaline going through him.

He missed it. He probably always would. But for now, he pushed aside those feelings and turned his attention back to the match in front of him. 

Ezra was one of the first up, and Kanan watched intently as he fought, and cheered him on as he went. He heard Hera and the others doing the same, and at one point glanced over to see her watching him, her expression thoughtful.

“What?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just… I guess I didn’t expect you to get this invested.”

“Fencing’s my sport, remember?” Kanan pointed out. “And he’s pretty good at it, too.”

“It’s not just that kind of invested,” Hera said. “It’s— I guess I didn’t expect to meet someone who cares this much, this quickly.”

The honesty in her voice caught Kanan off guard, and after a split second, he decided to match it. “It’s a bad habit of mine, apparently. And Ezra’s a good kid. I like seeing him succeed.”

“That makes two of us,” Hera said, and they exchanged a smile.

Next to her, Sabine cleared her throat pointedly. “Not that this isn’t adorable, but I have a couple questions for you, Kanan.”

“As long as I can watch and answer questions,” Kanan said wryly. “Let me guess— this is the part where you and Zeb grill me for information to make sure I’m not up to no good?”

“I mean, Hera’s helping too, but yes,” Sabine said.

Kanan shot Hera a surprised look, and she met his gaze calmly. “If you’re going to be around my kids, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Fair enough,” Kanan acknowledged. “Okay, hit me. Not literally.”

“Ha, ha,” Sabine said, and Kanan could hear the eyeroll. Hopping to her feet, she vaulted over the seats in front of her and moved in front of him, her expression stern and serious. “Okay— full legal name?”

“Kanan Caleb Levi Jarrus,” Kanan told her. “I’ve gone by my birth parent’s surname before, but not for a while now.”

Beginning to pace back and forth, Sabine asked, “Current job?”

“Handyman and all purpose fix-it guy for Kasmiri Locks— which you already know, so why are you asking me?”

“I’ll ask the questions here,” Sabine told him coolly, and Kanan saw Hera cover a smile. “Have any siblings?”

“Biologically, I don’t think so, legally, one brother, and emotionally, sort of.” Kanan folded his arms. “How am I doing on your questions?”

Lifting her chin, Sabine said, “Fine. For now. Here’s a big one— criminal record?”

Kanan held back a wince. He’d had a feeling this one was going to come up. And while his mistakes might have been in the past for him, that wasn’t going to be true for everyone. So all he could do was be honest.

He directed his gaze and his response at Hera as he said, “I’ve been arrested twice. Once for being drunk and disorderly, and I was charged that time. The other time was resisting arrest and assault of an officer— also while drunk— and it’s a miracle that he let me go.”

Hera’s expression was unreadable as she asked, “Why did he?”

“Because he knew my family,” Kanan answered. “And because he knew that… I’d lost my mom a few months earlier. She died when I was nineteen, and I was kind of a mess for a while. Drank a little too much, picked some fights. Most of them didn’t land me in too much legal trouble. But those two did— or almost did.” Shaking his head, he said, “Gray didn’t arrest me, though. He just told me to get my crap together and drove me home. It was… weirdly helpful. Started  me on the path that got me into a less stupid and way more sober place, so there’s that.”

Sighing, he said, “I don’t drink any more— and I know that it all sounds bad. Because it was. Honestly, though, I usually just think about how it could have been a lot worse, and how lucky I am that it wasn’t.”

He fell silent, and looked at Sabine and Hera. The teenager was studying him with a frown— and then she let out a massive sigh. “Kriff. You were right, Hera.”

“I know,” Hera said, her expression serene. But Kanan caught a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Hang on,” he said slowly, frowning at them. “Did you— you knew about my record?”

“I did,” Sabine said cheerfully. “And I told Hera and Zeb.”

“What— how? Did you google me?”

Rolling her eyes, Sabine said, “Obviously, but not much came up. My skip tracer found out about the jail thing.”

Kanan’s eyebrows shot up. “Your what?”

“I’m thinking about being a cop when I grow up,” Sabine told him. “I figured I should get started cultivating my sources early. Merrin recommended the guy, so he’s probably trustworthy.”

“I’m not sure whether I should feel like my privacy was invaded, or if I should be impressed,” Kanan said, shaking his head. “Find anything else interesting?”

Sabine shrugged. “Not too much. Your grandpa was a cop, which I respect. And apparently your mom was a professional fencer?”

“She was,” Kanan said. “One of the best. So, do I pass your test?”

“Well, you told us about the jail thing, so you passed mine,” Sabine said with a shrug. “Zeb?”

“He showed up, didn’t he?” Zeb pointed out. “I think I’m good. Hera?”

Kanan glanced at Hera, who let out a half laugh. “I’d say so, yes.”

“Good,” Sabine said. “Cause it looks like the pools are ending, which means Ezra is gonna want to see him in a minute. And it also means it’s time to go get snacks.”

“Is there a concession stand?” Kanan asked.

“Less a stand, and more some of the older students with a box of candy and a folding table,” Sabine said. “But we’ll take what we can get. Zeb?”

Standing up, Zeb said, “I’m with ya. Anyone else want anything?”

“I’m good,” Hera said. “Kanan?”

Nodding, Kanan said, “Actually, I’d take a Butterfingers if they’re selling them. You want some cash for it?”

“The day I can’t shell out a buck for some candy for a mate is the day I hand in my badge,” Zeb said, rolling his eyes. “See you in a bit.”

The two of them headed back down the bleachers, leaving Kanan and Hera alone. Kanan was surprised by just how nervous he wasn’t at the thought, frankly. He wanted to get this right, he knew that much. But somehow, being around Hera felt… easy. Like it was where he was supposed to be.

Neither of them spoke for a while— instead, they sat and watched Ezra fence his final opponent in companionable silence. Eventually, as the bout came to an end, Hera said, “I am sorry about the whole skip tracer incident.”

“You did tell me you wanted to make sure I was safe for your kids,” Kanan pointed out. “If it wasn’t for the fact that, you know, Sabine’s a teenager, I should have expected it.”

“Still— I should have realized we were prying into a potentially painful time in your life,” Hera said. She turned to look at him, her gaze apologetic. “I’m sorry. About that, and your mother.”

Kanan paused before speaking, surprised by the wave of emotion that swept through him at Hera’s words. “Thanks,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “And you’re forgiven, I promise. Please remember that I shamelessly flirted with you while I was supposed to be working.”

“As I recall, you managed to do both with some proficiency,” Hera said, and Kanan couldn’t hold back his grin.

“Are you saying the flirting worked?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Hera pointed out, looking distinctly unflustered. She paused, then added, “I’m glad you did come.”

“Me, too,” Kanan said. “I’m glad you still wanted me to come after learning about… everything.”

“It threw me for a minute,” Hera admitted. “But it’s not right to judge you based on your past. And clearly, based on the fact my teenager knocked you out with a frying pan, you’re not a master criminal. Despite the lockpicking.”

Kanan laughed. “Good point. And trust me, I was far from a master criminal back then, too.”

They fell into conversation— Kanan telling her stories about work, Hera responding with wry quips that made him laugh every time. He learned that she was a pilot, and worked as a school guidance counselor. She’d never thought about fostering kids before she met Ezra, but now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Her life was busy and chaotic, and she loved it, no matter how hard it was.

Watching her talk about it, Kanan found himself loving it, too.

At the end of the pools, there was a brief timeout while the scores were tallied so that fencers could be matched with their opponents for the direct elimination round. At this point, Sabine and Zeb returned, carrying more candy than Kanan would have thought was possible.

“Did you leave anything for the others?” Hera asked, lifting an eyebrow at them as Sabine shuffled past her, her hands full of Skittles and Sour Patch Kids, and her pockets bulging with candy bars.

Taking his seat, Zeb opened a Snickers as he said, “Hey, someone had to support them financially. We’re here for them. Oh, almost forgot— here’s your candy, mate.”

Kanan accepted the three king-sized Butterfingers, struggling to keep a straight face. “That’s all? I was kind of hoping you’d get me a lot of these.”

“Rude,” Sabine said through a mouthful of Skittles. “Hera, they were selling those fruit snacks you liked, so we got you some. Want them?”

“Not yet,” Hera told her, getting to her feet. “I’m going to go talk to Ezra before his next match starts.” Glancing at Kanan, she said, “Do you want to come?”

“Me?” Kanan blinked, surprised. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“He’s the one who invited you,” Hera pointed out. “He’ll be happy to see you. Come on.”

Rising from his seat, Kanan followed her down the bleachers to the bench on the sidelines, where most of the fencers were resting. Ezra, on the other hand, was on his feet, bouncing on his toes with a water bottle on one hand. He spotted Hera almost immediately, and a second later his gaze landed on Kanan.

“You made it!” he said, sounding delighted.

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Kanan assured him. “You’ve been doing pretty good, kid. Giving your opponents a run for their money, I see.”

“Especially the Imperials,” Ezra said, rolling his eyes. “They’re all the worst. Well, except that girl Luke has a crush on. Oh, and Zev, obviously.”

“Who could forget Zev?” Hera said wryly. “I just came down to check on you— you’re doing okay? Staying hydrated?”

“I’m good,” Ezra said. “Just ready to kick some butt! Leia said she was counting, and she’s pretty sure I’m gonna be in fourth or fifth.”

A flash of pride crossed Hera’s face. “You’re doing amazingly, Ezra. We should probably get back to our seats— play smart, okay?” Leaning over, she pressed a kiss against his forehead.

“Hera!” Ezra protested. “No one else’s mom is coming down to kiss them.”

“You should know better than to think that’s going to stop me,” Hera shot back. “We’ll be watching in the stands.” Glancing at Kanan, she said, “You ready?”

Pausing, Kanan said, “Can you give me a minute, actually? If that’s alright. I just want to offer some advice.”

Hera hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you back up there in a minute.”

“Be there soon,” Kanan promised as she headed back for the stairs. For just a minute, he watched her go, then turned back to Ezra. Who was grinning.

“So, is the date going well?”

“Does it count as a date if you’re the one who invited me?” Kanan pointed out.

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Hera really likes you, you know. She doesn’t actually give people her number all that often, and it’s not like there are a small number of guys who hit on her.”

Kanan winced. “Hence the skip tracer, huh?”

“Oh, Sabine told you about that? Nice, that means you passed the test.” Ezra grinned. “Knew I liked you. So, what’s your advice?”

Kanan started to speak, but a voice behind him cut him off. “Hey, Bridger! Trying to find someone to fence in your place so you don’t have to face me?”

Turning, Kanan spotted a teenager boy with black hair and an unpleasant smirk striding towards them. He was from the Imperial Academy, as was clear by his armband, and Kanan saw a scowl crossing Ezra’s face at his approach.

“Get lost, Oleg,” he told the boy.

“Oh, like your real parents did?” Oleg said, and Kanan’s eyebrows shot up. Who the kark does this kid think he is? Next to him, he felt Ezra tense up, his shoulders hunching slightly.

Then he straightened and said, “Yeah, well, at least my family chose to have me around. Which is more than I can say for yours.”

Kanan couldn’t hold back a snort, and Oleg’s gaze was turned to him. “Who’s this? Let me guess— someone finally realized that we shouldn’t let trash fence with us, and this is the garbageman?”

Ezra started to take a step forward, his fists balling up, and Kanan put a hand on his shoulder. “Easy,” he said. “Don’t let him rattle you. He just wants you ejected from the game, because he knows you’re a threat.”

Oleg opened his mouth to respond to that, but one of his team mates called his name, and he was forced to stalk away, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck out there— you’re gonna need it.”

“Charming kid,” Kanan said.

“Yeah, the way a pit full of snakes is charming,” Ezra muttered, scowling after him. “I’m sorry about what he said.”

“He’s a greasy-looking twerp. I won’t take it personally.” Kanan paused, and felt a smile crossing his face. “Can I show you a trick? To be used only for showing off and for if you end up going against him.”

“Sure,” Ezra said. “What is it?”

One brief lesson and a few minutes later,  Kanan slipped back into his seat. Hera shot him a sideways glance. “That took a little longer than I expected.”

“Advice takes how long it takes,” Kanan said, giving her an innocent look.

“You do realize I have two kids? And that I can tell when I’m not being told the whole truth,” Hera said as the tournament started up again.

Unwrapping one of his candy bars, Kanan said, “Just a little advice on his footwork. And then one trick to be used only in case of emergency.”

“Should I be worried?”

“I’m gonna go with no,” Kanan said. “Trust me on this one.”

Hera looked dubious, but nodded. “Alright.”

The match moved onwards smoothly. Ezra turned out to be in fourth place— and sure enough, he was matched up against Oleg. This put him in fourth to last place, Kanan realized. For a kid who’s so bad at fencing, his attitude is pretty cocky.

A few matches happened before his— a blond kid that Hera identified as Ezra’s friend Luke, a red haired girl from the Imperials, and another girl, this one with white-blonde hair and a Scottish accent that he could hear from the stands as she taunted her opponent into defeat.

And then Ezra’s match came, and Kanan found himself paying closer attention. His earlier assessment had been right— the kid was good, although there were some details that could use some work. He was a little hasty, too quick to jump into the fight, and his footwork could have been better.

But one thing he didn’t rush was the move Kanan taught him. Halfway through the fight, Kanan saw Oleg— who, by his count, was losing badly— say something, sneering at Ezra. The boy didn’t flinch, just parried the next blow.

And then his next move was a quick flick of the wrist and a spin of the blade, and suddenly Oleg was yelping and scrambling backwards as his foil shot straight into the air.

It made it about halfway up to the ceiling before clattering back down onto the floor. At that point, Oleg was halfway across the gym and Ezra was grinning. Kanan felt a matching grin cross his face as Hera looked at him.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Your handiwork?”

“In my defense, I was hoping it would stick into the ceiling.”

“Bridger!” the referee barked. He was a tall man with dark blond hair, sideburns that outmatched even Zeb’s, and a crisp accent, and looked utterly unimpressed by Ezra’s move. “Stop fooling around!”

“Yes, sir,” Ezra called as one of the coaches nudged Oleg back to the match, handing him back his foil. His grin didn’t fade, though. And a few moves later, he’d won the match.

The rest of the competition only lasted about half an hour, and before long, Kanan was following Hera, Sabine, and Zeb to where they met Ezra outside the locker room. He was carrying a duffel bag full of equipment, and his already satisfied grin widened when he saw them.

“You were so right,” he told Kanan. “Did you hear Oleg squeal when his foil went flying? So worth getting chewed out by Kallus later.”

“Kallus did what?” Hera demanded. “Do I need to have words with that man again?”

“Or I could,” Zeb offered. “I’ve been wanting to punch his stupid face in.”

Shaking his head, Ezra said, “Nah, Leia yelled at him right back. It was pretty entertaining. Cal told me not to do it again, but he thought it was funny. Said it reminded him of a friend from back in the day.”

Hera looked at Kanan, who shrugged. “Like I said, I probably know him.”

“You’re nothing if not a troublemaker, aren’t you?” Hera said to him.

“It’s one of my many charms.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

Clearing her throat, Sabine said, “Not to interrupt this little love fest, but is Kanan coming to lunch with us?”

Ezra’s gaze immediately moved to Kanan. “Are you?”

Kanan hesitated, shooting a glance at Hera. “I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” Hera told him. “I— We’d love to have you, if you’re free.”

“In that case, how can I refuse?” Kanan said. “Where are we headed?”

As it turned out, they were heading to Pyloon’s Saloon, a diner in town that Kanan had seen, but never had the pleasure of going to. He followed Hera’s minivan over to the diner, parking a few spots over. Heading over to meet them, he caught Sabine’s eyes as she hopped out of the car. “Is the painting on the back your work?”

“It is,” she said.

“It’s good. I like your style.” As they headed for the door, Kanan asked, “Now, I can guess what most of it means— you take martial arts, and you’re into records?”

“Yup,” Sabine said, a pleased grin crossing her face.

“Nice. What’s the sign Ezra’s holding?”

Ezra let out a loud groan as Zeb laughed. Smirking, Sabine said, “Inside joke. You have to reach a level five friendship to learn it.”

“Guess I have some work to do,” Kanan said, grabbing the door handle and holding it open. As Hera passed, he leaned forward and asked, “Should I even bother asking you?”

“Oh, I’m sworn to secrecy,” she assured him. “You’ll just have to convince them.”

“Challenged accepted,” he joked, following her inside.

They settled into a booth together and ordered. It wasn’t long before their food came, and they filled the time easily— Ezra talking about his match, Zeb and Sabine teasing him or insulting his opponents. Hera played referee in a lighthearted fashion, and Kanan chimed in every now and then, too.

Mainly, he watched, and listened, and as lunch wound on, he realized he’d enjoyed himself more than he had in a long while.

It was Hera’s company, obviously— but it was more than that, too. It was the family she’d built for herself, and the warmth with which they’d chosen to accept him.

She’d been the one who captivated him, but the other three brought him an understanding of what this family was really like. And with it, he realized it was something he wanted to be a part of.

Eventually, their meal came to an end. Kanan managed to swipe the bill away from Hera before she could pay it, which resulted in a short argument that Hera eventually let go.

“I’ll have to pay next time,” she said as they headed for the door, the kids and Zeb already ahead of them.

“Will there be a next time?” Kanan asked. The words slipped out before he could help it, and he saw Hera hesitate, and internally cursed himself. The last thing he wanted to do was push her.

As he opened his mouth to say so, Ezra cut them off as he called, “Hey, Kanan! I think you should be my fencing coach, but Sabine and Zeb say I need to interview you for it. What do you think?”

Rolling his eyes, Kanan said, “How about this— you three look up Caleb Dume on YouTube. Consider what you find there my audition tape?”

“Is it going to be about you?” Sabine said dubiously. “My skip tracer didn’t say anything about you having a fake name.”

“Like I said, I go by my bio family’s name sometimes,” Kanan told her. “Only one way for you to find out, right?”

As Sabine whipped out her phone, Kanan turned back to Hera. “As we were saying. I don’t want to push you—”

“I know,” Hera said, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Kanan pretended not to follow the motion with his eyes, not to wonder what it would feel like to run his fingers through the silky strands as she said, “And… I’d like to give this a try. I really would. But you have to understand— Ezra and Sabine come first. If something comes up during a date, or if I have to cancel—”

“Then you go,” Kanan said. “They’re your kids. You should prioritize them. I completely understand that, Hera.”

Hera stared at him, and let out a half laugh, shaking her head. “I… you keep surprising me.”

“Good,” Kanan said, grinning at her. “I’d never want to bore you.”

“You could never,” she said wryly. Pausing, she said, “Then, can I take you to dinner next weekend? On a real date, without the kids interrogating you?”

“Yes,” Kanan said immediately. “Absolutely.” Smiling, he said, “I already can’t wait.”

Hera’s responding smile sent a flutter through his chest that he fully welcomed. “Neither can I.”

“WAIT A SECOND,” Sabine exploded from a few feet away. “YOU WERE A PROFESSIONAL FENCER AS A KID? HOW DID MY SKIP TRACER MISS THAT?”

“Oh, yeah, I knew I was forgetting something,” Kanan mused. Glancing at Hera, he said, “That’s not a deal breaker, is it?”

“I think I’ll get past it somehow,” she assured him. “You’re dealing with the kids and Chopper, after all.”

“Right, the cat,” Kanan said. “Well, with the exception of Chopper— who I haven’t met— I’d say that I’m pretty happy with this package deal.”

“DUDE DID YOU JUST KILL THAT REFEREE?”

Lifting an eyebrow at Kanan, Hera said, “That may not last.”

Somehow, even as Sabine and Ezra bolted towards him, peppering him with questions, Kanan doubted that.

(And it was true, as the months slipped on, and another figure joined the little group painted on the back of Hera’s van. He was happy, and he was where he was meant to be.)

[velkyr]

DUSK QUESTIONS MOMENT. 1, 10, 40, 52!! 👀

ON IT BOSS!!!! o7 (tysmmmm for letting me ramble mwah. I wrote more than I expected as per usual 💖)

(original ask game post here)

I've read more'd this because oops it got so long sorry orz

Why did you pick the race you did for your Tav?

the short answer is always just going to be I love tieflings, I am weak for tieflings, this is a universal unchangeable fact amen 🙏 I think 3 of the... 6(? I might be forgetting some other oneshot-only characters idk) characters I've played at a table have been tiefs or homebrew variants of them! they're very gender to me, I felt that way before I even really knew jackshit about my own gender. absolutely batshit that I still thought I was cis when I started playing d&d lmfao. also horns tails fangs and claws need I say more. I shan't, I don't have to

but yeah specifically for Dusk, I wanted to base them off of my first d&d character in particular, who was a tiefling homebrew to represent an au ra from ffxiv in our homebrew campaign based around the game. so it was important to me they were also a tiefling draconic sorcerer to match!

a lot has changed about them while I've reworked them, but many of the fundamentals have remained the same. gender, motivations, reasoning and general force of personality have been altered towards things that I find more compelling or more fitting, 6 years down the line - but race and class, the idea of them being nobility who left their home(land) and has a bunch of hangups around it, that's all as it was back then.

10. If your Tav didn’t become an adventurer, what else would they be doing?

this is an interesting one, I've been stewing on it a fair bit recently while I've been thinking about what they'd do post-bg3 shenanigans. the thing with Dusk is I've infused them with So Much raw adhd (to the point of it far surpassing my own, oops. this seems to be how I bestow love on my favourite OCs at this point), they Need enough outlets in their day-to-day life or they'll end up in an understimulated mess pretty quickly.

adventuring is obviously a solid option for that need! but without that on the table, I think it needs to be something that caters strongly to their interests and whims. I can see them working well in a profession involving enchantment and/or working with jewels and precious metals. enchanting things would be a good way to siphon off some of that raw sorcerer magic - if they don't use it often enough, there's a build up of sorts. with it being lightning based, it's a bit like having an unstable motor that runs way too fast, and it makes them incredibly irritable.

as for the crafting part of the equation, well, they're already fascinated by shiny things, they're pretty detail oriented and good with their hands, and it's the kind of skilled manual work that requires Just Enough focus to be stimulating. the only thing they'd probably end up hating about either of these would be dealing with noble clientele lmao, but I have no doubt they'd find a way to exploit that anyway. while they may not be the most book smart in the world, they're people smart by necessity. (something something insight proficiency)

and really, as an alternative or perhaps on the side, I don't think they'd be opposed to sex work if it were an environment they felt comfortable in, with a well-vetted set of clientele that they have full autonomy over.

40. What is the biggest mistake your Tav ever made?

welcome to 'pick a struggle' with Dusk, they have their fair share,,,

there's a couple of things that stick out, but I'll stick with one that's pretty fundamental to them. they deeply regret having lashed out at and pushed away the people that tried to help them when they were younger, still stuck living in elturel.

while they can't entirely be blamed for it - they were conditioned to think and feel a certain way, and those patterns were ingrained across a lifetime, all the hallmarks of the abuse they faced - at the end of the day, the friends they'd made after they started sneaking out at night were only trying to help them see how awful their living situation was.

by the time Dusk fled home, they'd burned all the bridges they'd tentatively built over the years. their best friend at the time was the one who made a sort of last ditch attempt to convince them, and it came at the right place, the right time to push them into leaving. but it was outright said that none of them wanted to see them again, after all of the vitriol.

with the distance of years and the gift of hindsight, they regret it all the more. they haven't really forgiven themselves for it.

52. What is your Tav’s worst fear?

oh you already know this one I'm sure 🤠 but I'll elaborate it into something a bit broader that pokes at the Theming more.

they fear being forced back into a gilded cage - whether that's being dragged back home to their family or pushed into a new one. they fear the loss of the autonomy they've carved out for themselves. they fear a loss of identity, and the concept of having it stripped from them, reducing them back into some (feminine) trophy to be given away for material gain.

at its core, it's a loathing of the idea of heteronormativity, really. that's what I always parallel it to, and it's pretty on the nose in that regard.

granted, it's kind of a paradoxical fear for them. they're so thoroughly weary after spending so long living with their guard up, molding themselves into someone who can take on the world alone, that in secret, there's a part of them that just doesn't want to fight anymore. that part would be tempted to give up - to let themselves be reshackled, so to speak - if the circumstances were dire, so long as there were the promise of them being safe and cared for at the end.

as a secondary but very much related thing, they've also come to fear and resent being alone, and the idea of being left behind by people they care about.

[applejuiz]

Hello good sir I know this is a silly dumb hellsite and ao3 is a meme 90% of the time but I wanted to tell you that hold me like water hold me like a knife is something that I think about once a day, but like, in a more serious sense it makes me feel very seen as a person, reading about keyleths confusion, the hatred and all the wishing she felt to be anyone but herself, because of the way she felt and was as a person, spoke to me in VOLUMES because it's a representation I've never really seen and has become so so important to me, knowing even fictional or projected by the author that someone could feel the way I do is just a Feeling that I appreciate you for more then you'll ever know! I don't know if this is weird, I could go on and on about how much I love the fic itself, but I just want to thank you and let you know you've given a random internet stranger a bit of comfort and a feeling of being less alone, I am gifting you hugs and any sweets you would like.

Hello, friend!! Let me just say that you have absolutely paid it forward. I have been having A Time lately and this was such a wonderful pick me up.

I really did put a lot of effort into this fic and thinking about Keyleth and myself and so many things and I’m so so glad you were able to take something meaningful away from it.

I truly love Keyleth so much, and I’ve always deeply appreciated how Marisha does often talk about her self hatred. It’s something about her character that I think is easy to overlook when she’s being awkward or angry or silly, but it is incredibly central to her. I deeply relate to her fear of grief and that urge to protect yourself from it. It wasn’t until writing that I really started thinking about how this canon divergent trip to the Shadowfell would be so deeply isolating (fun fact: an incredibly early version of this fic in my head had Vax following her through the orb, which would have been SO different thematically from where it ended up). And then I spiraled into all these realizations about how that fear of grief and of being alone is really a fear of being left with herself when she really doesn’t like herself.

I am very sorry that you see yourself in those feelings, but I do think such a big way of combatting them is realizing that there are other people who feel it. I loved writing that scene with her and Percy and her and Scanlan and having her not know if it’s better or worse to know that other people feel the same way. Personally I think it is better. There is nothing uniquely wrong with you, you’re fine, and many people love you.

Also here’s a tip from therapy that worked for me and that I was really implementing in this fic: you can make a Vax in your head, for free, to help! I loved coming to the conclusion in the fic that Vax could build up this positive voice in her that would be there after he was gone, and that is something you can do for yourself, no half-elf boyfriend required.

Anyway, thank you very very much for this message! I’m so glad to get to talk about this fic and to know that people have enjoyed it and think about it and get something positive out of it. <3<3<3

[frecklystars]

Y'know, Bruno knows a thing or two about hurting and loneliness. I think if anyone would understand your pain and need to just have your hand held it'd be him, for sure. For better or worse, really. Real love is unconditional and he's got a LOT of it in his own neglected traumatized heart. I think he'd empathize big time with your situation just like he always has, and would squeeze your hand extra tight. Without a doubt.

oh my god anon ;-; augh, your message. thank you........ I really love how you worded all of this

I miss self shipping a lot. TF was my main focus for 3 years straight, I shipped with a lot of other F/Os over the years, but it wasn't like a strong fixation like TF was. and since TF became a trigger, for the life of me I just cannot seem to pick up the habit of self shipping again just in general... which is such an empty feeling bc I've been self shipping everyday since I was little. so I look at these other non-TF F/Os who aren't a trigger (i.e. Bruno), and yet my brain is still unable to rly Feel Anything when I look at them... it seems I'm a bit numb to self shipping just in general and idk if it's the depression of losing my special interests, or not drawing/writing anymore getting to me, or the ptsd/trauma, or a combination of all of it.... but then I opened your message and now I am a weepy mess (in a deeply touched and appreciative way)

"Real love is unconditional and he's got a lot of it in his own neglected traumatized heart." god you're so right, he's been through hell and he was so lonely for so long, and he didn't deserve any of the trauma that he had to endure. I want to hope my love with all of my F/Os, regardless of who they are or how long they've been on the F/O list, is unconditional... even when I'm Like This Now. I am not myself, I haven't felt like myself at all for the entirety of 2023, and tbh it makes me feel scared that I'm no longer lovable to my F/Os because of it. People always tell me they love how bubbly and passionate I am with my ships, but I'm just -- I'm not anymore. I want to be! So badly! The number one thing ppl always tell me is "you put so much love into your ships and it really radiates in your art/posts, you seem like such a happy person" but since I've lost all of my joy, it makes me feel worried that my F/Os wouldn't love me, seeing me like this, so... empty, like a zombie going thru the motions.

But that unconditional love feeling, I really felt that in my ships for forever and I want that feeling back so bad. I never used to have problems self shipping before, it was like, the one thing I would have bet my life on, I was so confident about it. and getting messages like yours, it reminds me of how I used to feel, and the way you phrase it all in the present tense... as if you're saying yes Bruno can still hold my hand, Bruno still is here for me regardless of how hurt I am -- it helps a lot. it really helps so much when I read things like this... to imagine him hugging me and telling me he's still here for me, even when I'm not the same as I was

I am rly not good at phrasing things so idk if my response makes any sense, I'm sorry if it doesn't haha;;; anon thank you so much for sending this. It means a lot to me. it really does. every time I get a kind message like this, I cradle it very close to my heart, I go back and reread asks in my inbox all the time... I read this a few times before answering it and it still makes me teary. thank you for telling me Bruno would be here for me ;-; it helps me to actually imagine it, and just a little bit of that spark comes back to me, even if it's momentary. it helps. you helped ❤

[stormyoceans]

what the actual fuck i'm so fucking mad you got that message in your inbox, you're like the most loving most positive person here always enjoying your interests in such a nice way like that personally angered me you don't deserve that at all. that was written only to piss you off please don't let them, your love for vice versa and jimmysea is honestly the cutest most endearing thing and it makes me genuinely happy seeing you talk about it so excitedly every day. their episodes were soooo good imho so cute so them! i've missed them a lot and i'll be rewatching FOR SURE! what were your fave 3 moments? if you can choose! fuck that anon and the other ones that might be the same person. love you monica keep loving them as hard as you do <3

ANON YOU'RE MAKING ME TEAR UP THIS IS SO SWEET 😭😭 idk if i deserve all these nice words but please know that i deeply appreciate them and that they mean a lot to me!!!! thank you so so much for this 🥺💜

honestly i LOVED the our skyy episodes like i know im terribly biased, but out of all the ones we got until now i think the plot for vice versa felt the most organic and coherent to the characters and their journey. once again everyone involved in the show put so much care and attention into it, and jimmysea have such a natural easy chemistry to them, they sell the lovesick fools who have been married for five years SO WELL. IDK IF I CAN PICK ONLY 3 FAVORITE MOMENTS BECAUSE THEY WERE ALL SO GOOD BUT LET ME TRY:

1) the beach scene. IRREVOCABLY CHANGED ME MY LIFE MY PERSPECTIVE THE FOUNDATION OF MY PERSONHOOD THE BIOCHEMISTRY OF MY BRAIN AND THE ENTIRE MAKE UP OF MY BEING ON AN INTRINSIC MOLECULAR LEVEL. AGAIN. i haven't even begun to process A QUARTER of the insane amount of parallels they managed to pack in just 3 minutes of screentime and how, by doing that, they were able to show just how far puentalay have come in their journey: from strangers to lovers, from a one sided drunk kiss to a passionate yet tender mutual kiss, from a mouthed 'i like your name' to a mouthed 'i love you', from talay's life ending in the ocean to the ocean being the witness of his love, that same love he once thought was just an annoying distraction in the way to achieve his dreams and that now has become an essential color in the palette of his life..... literally made me experience every single emotion present on the spectrum of human consciousness, im gonna need a 2 weeks long vacation in a controlled environment to decompress and recover from the sheer high romance and the whole entire everything of it all

also not to toot my own horn but i love being correct and never losing:

2) both the birthday conversation and the drawing one. SORRY I KNOW IM CHEATING BUT I JUST CAN'T CHOOSE BETWEEN THESE TWO MOMENTS. WHEN I SAY PUENTALAY INVENTED COMMUNICATION UNDERSTANDING CARE LOVE SUPPORT!!!!!!!! im not mentally stable enough to be coherent about this but like.. one of the reasons i adore puentalay is that since the beginning they have always been willing to try to understand each other. no relationship comes without misunderstandings or conflicts, they're always bound to happen from time to time because we're all different and we all react to things in different ways, but what matters the most is the way you can come together after that to face the issue and make it better. i feel like people often have this idealized vision of love where everything must be perfect and passionate and all-consuming, but i believe love is actively choosing to share your life with someone every day as you help each other navigate through it and enjoy the quiet moments together, and i think these two conversations show that puen and talay have this kind of love, a love that will last forever because whatever happens being together is the most important thing for them

3) puentalay and jigsaw sleeping in the same bed. LITERALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU EXCEPT THAT I PERSONALLY DON'T EVEN WANT KIDS BUT SEEING PUEN AND TALAY BEING SO TENDER WITH JIGSAW AND REARRANGING THEIR LIFE TO MAKE SPACE FOR HIM HAD ME LYING IN THE DIRT SOBBING FOR SEVERAL HOURS TO CLIMB DOWN FROM THE SUGAR HIGH THIS SCENE GAVE ME WITH ITS SWEETNESS. it also reminded me a little of the scene in episode 6 when talay admits everything he has missed about puen: talay has always been more rational and reserved with his emotions compared to puen, but it's in quiet moments like these that you can see how deeply his feelings actually run. both puen and talay have so much love to give and one day, when they will be ready, they're gonna have a kid of their own and expand their family, and this knowledge is gonna MAKE ME DIE HAPPY AND IN PEACE

[altik-0]

The space between "they" and "she"

Another year, another long gap between personal updates, lol.

Last report was:

🏳️‍⚧️

same name for now

they/them

^ subject to change

Current status report:

Still 🏳️‍⚧️

new name (not sharing publicly though, sorry)

she/they

^ still subject to change

But this is just the matter-of-fact, Reader's Digest version of things. There's a lot more weight behind this, and I'd like to talk about it.

There was a very long time where I described my gender as "anxiety." At first this was a joke -- "haha, yeah, my gender is <pick mental health problem from checklist>" -- but it quickly became clear that this was a very apt description of my reality. Nearly every waking moment I spent thinking about gender, and how it intersected with my lived experience. How did I feel? How DIDN'T I feel? Was it real, or was I faking it? Was I actually trans?

I went into therapy thinking that finding an answer to that final question was what I needed to do. I sort of understood that it was the wrong question -- nobody could tell me the answer to it other than myself, after all. But with how much doubt and worry filled my mind, it's hard to blame myself for feeling that I needed help figuring it out.

Over time, the work that ended up actually helping me was confronting the anxiety. Slowly dipping my toes into new things, and allowing myself to feel the stress of the new thing that felt overwhelming. Allow my circle of comfort to slowly stretch and expand until these new experiences were no longer terrifying, and I could explore them without the fear overwhelming any other feeling.

And that was hard work. Gender is a wide, all-encompassing thing. I quickly found that despite how considerate and progressive I considered myself, the reality was that I never truly confronted the realities of gender, even in a very basic way. It took time, there was really no way around it.

When I last came to this blog to share my truth, I was still mid-process. Truthfully, I still am. I'm not convinced that transition is something that ever truly ends. However, I am definitely farther along than I was, which makes it much easier to say out loud what I always really felt: I'm a trans woman, and I want people to know that.

I set my pronouns to "she/they" where the option is available, because I want to project my transness to others. I tell people I use either pronoun, and am pretty insistent that either is okay when they ask if I have a preference. "What's important is that I'm not a man," I will tell them.

In my heart, I have a preference. There's a flutter of recognition that genuinely makes me feel a little more me every time I hear a "she" come from people I'm speaking with. "They" does not bring this same joy. I'm not sure how I'll feel if someone actually takes me up on the "feel free to use whatever neopronouns for me if you feel they fit" offer, haha.

However, that preference doesn't reflect how I see myself. I have a friend who describes herself as "a trans woman, but not a woman" -- not because she does not consider trans women to be women, but because she specifically doesn't see herself as one. I deeply resonate with this idea. I've seen many trans women talk about how they wish they had been born a cis woman. I, on the other hand, feel fairly confident that had been AFAB, I would have ended up being trans masculine instead. Being transgender is a critical part of my identity, and I WANT it to be.

Still, I'm not finished growing, and still don't live as loudly open as I think I'd like. I'm in a comfortable spot where I can at least reasonably well pass right now, and in the white Utahn suburbs, there is a critical sense of safety that comes from that. I'm hoping to push myself a bit harder as time goes on, and knowing the spicy political fire burning in my heart, it will only be a matter of time.

[yourveryownkarma]

They've asked... what happened... why i can't look into anyone's eyes anymore, what am I hiding?

I've had such a hard time answering; because I know I won't be understood. You'd think I'd be used to it. My whole life I've felt like I had to explain over and over again why I am the way I am, why I act the way I act, etc.

I'm here to answer that now, though; now when I don't have someone to pick apart my body language, my hand movement, my eye contact or lack thereof.

It happened very slowly at first and then ripped off like a band aid at the end. What happened this way? My hope, my innocence, my faith in people, my faith in myself, My faith in love.

I was slowly betrayed by everyone I ever trusted and loved deeply, ...slowly, slowly ...slowly. Until I only trusted one person, until I only truly loved one person (besides my children). Until I cut everyone off, but one person.

This one person had my heart. Not romantically although that is how our relationship started, he was more like my protector my keeper my opposite and at the same time, he was the parts of me I couldn't show to the world, he blatantly showed those parts that I kept so deep down inside of me. I saw my equal, but I also saw my superior. Someone who could say the things I always wanted to but never could. Someone who made the storms stop in their tracks at our door step. He took all the bad things and he didn't necessarily make them good, he just made them stop happening to me.

With him in my corner I had the power to stand up for myself, because I knew he wouldn't be far behind, and it didn't take much, he didn't have to say a word, all he had to do was make an appearance and whatever big words I spoke kept their validity. He was the monster they feared and for once I did not. He was soft and kind to me. He kept me warm when it was too cold and cool when it was too hot. He kept me moving when I needed my space and my mind right and he kept the world from falling to peices. Naturally it was easy to cut everyone else off. Too easy. Fuck them, they weren't half of what he was.

Idk what happened, but once I pushed everyone too far away to be pulled back, the monster in my closet that kept me safe all those years...

No longer cared about my safety.

I admit, I had put him thru all sorts of hell that I got myself into and he would always neatly clean up the crime scene.

But here at this point, the lowest point... is where he chose to cut the cord. I felt like it was a nightmare... because it was. One I've dreamt of many times but this time there was no waking up. It was reality. It was/still is unbelievable sometimes. I cry out of nowhere, I feel abandoned by everyone, including the one person I never thought would do that to me. The one person, who I put at the top. I did. Ultimatum would be given "him or me", it was laughable, I admit sometimes I would laugh... him... always him, who the fuck are you... I look back and wonder how many times I hurt someone like he has hurt me. I hope those wounds heal. Selfishly of course cause maybe one day mine can.

Why don't I look anyone in the eyes anymore? Because eyes are fucking liars. They can look kind and like they'd never betray you, and then they will. I'm not hiding my eyes from yours I am hiding from yours and their lies.

He made a #ghostgirl