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#so no it couldn’t have been tehm
juniperhillpatient · 4 months
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as someone who very much believes in the supernatural & believes I’ve had countless experiences with it I have a love hate relationship with those experiences that are like. either I’m actually losing it like actually hallucinating/delusional or that just happened because it’s like. i find it interesting & exciting but also if I ever want to talk about it people either think I’m crazy or lying & it’s like. well . I literally might be crazy? I don’t know what to tell you I’ve been having these experiences semi frequently since I was a kid either I’m legitimately mentally ill in some undiagnosed way (which feels unlikely to me if I’m being honest given my many years in & out of therapy & the fact that these encounters have never impacted my life in a negative way) or I’m very sensitive to spiritual encounters & at a certain point those are literally the only two options in my mind
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thatsarcasticgemini · 3 years
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Alone time
Ash Lynx x reader
A/n: Banana fish broke me, but writing is my coping mechanism, so...This is an AU where Ash and the reader are married and live in Japan, Ash being a model. Also, Shorter is alive cause I said do ( i would die for him to live tbh). I am so sorry for any mistakes.
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     Babysitting is a very challenging task, especially when the kid is a carbon copy of the most intelligent, cheeky and bratty man Eiji had ever met. Isaac Callenreese was giving the man a headache and pills were not fixing it. Sure, he knew what he was getting into and knew how much Ash and Y/N needed a break from parenting, but why on earth did he agree? At least Shorter was there to help him right?
     Wrong! Shorter was like a second kid. Yelling, running, coloring, making a mess and getting little Isaac even more agitated. Just how much energy did the 5 year old have? 
“Shorter, please! You are 30! Your playing days are over. You’re gonna break something and I will yell. I almost had Isaac under control, but then you came along to ruin the peace we had. Isaac come here right now or I’ll call Ash!”
“Jeez, Eiji...you almost sound like a grandpa! I haven’t seen Isaac in about a year. I missed him a lot, you know? Little gremlin did a lot of growing up!” said Shorter, with the same goofy smile he had all those years ago. Isaac was seated on the his lap, looking up at his favourite uncle with a wide grin. Based off the resemblance between him and Ash, Eiji could already sense some sort of comment coming.
“Nuh-uh. I wanna stay right here. Call dad “dad” please. And I love uncle Shorter, he’s taller, funnier and smarter than you, uncle Ji. He was telling me how dad knows how to ride a motocycle! It doesn’t get better than this!”
“Yes it does. If you stay quiet for five more minutes, I can get the rice done and I can tell you how Ash and Y/N..”
“Mom and dad, uncle Ji!”
“How mom and dad met while we eat. Does that sound nice?”
“Dunno, let me ask uncle Shorter too.” The two began whispering to each other while Eiji rolled his eyes. Just one more hour and Ash would be here to pick his spawn up. After a minute, both Shorter and Isaac nodded their heads and went to sit down at the kitche table.
     Once the table was set and the rice was done cooking, Eiji put it is bowls are brought it to the table. They all dug in, but Isaac seemed to be watching Eiji with great intrest, expecting the story he was promised.
“So Ash and Y/N...”
“Mom and dad. Continue uncle Ji.”
“Mom and dad met around 9 years ago. They met here, in Tokyo, and I am proud to announce that I am the one who got them to meet up, since Y/N went to the same highschool as me. We were both on the drama club in my third year. She was about 2 years younger than me, but she was so mature. Anyway, they started dating around three months after they met. The had a really pretty relationship. You dad was so hooked he embarrassed himself in front of her on multiple ocations. They got married two years later, lived together for two more years and then you came along. You were a very loved little boy. I wish I took a picture of the face your dad made when he held you for the first time.”
“Yeah! He teared up, but don’t tell him you know. You had this little puff of blond hair on your head, it was as fluffy as the little kitty we saw this morning, if not fluffier.” Isaac had look in his eyes that Eiji had only seen once before and that was when Ash told him about Dino and his childhood. The tiny blond seemed to be so vulnarable almost like a porcelain figure. 
“What about mom? Was she happy to see me?” There it was. The love Isaac, much like his father, held for her. It was like they would both die if it wasn’t for her love.
“Well of course she was. She really loves you, you know? Your mom loved you even before she had the pleasure of holding you. You have been one of her favourite people ever since she found out you were in her belly. They both love you a lot.”
“Then why am I here? Why wouldn’t they take me with them? Why do they want alone time?” Eiji couldn’t find an answer. He looked at Shorter, who still had that dumb grin.
“Well, Isaac, mom and dad need to rest every once in a while. Since mom got pregnant with your brother or sister, she hasn’t really been able to rest properly, so dad wanted alone time with her to help her rest, but I am sure they will both be so very happy to see you.”
     Just like magic, there was a knock at the door, Eiji went to open it, while Isaac trailed behind him, with his little backpack in hand. The door opened to reveal Ash and the boy jumped in his arms at the speed of light. 
“Wow! Hi bub! I missed you so much. How was today hmm? Did you have fun with uncle Ji and uncle Shorter? Were they nice to you?”
“Mhm, they told me how you and mama met. I miss mama, is she in the car?”
“No bub, she’s at home. She missed you too. Told me we should race all of the cars and get home in under ten minutes. We have cake.” And with that, Isaac was set back on the ground and the little boy dashed to the car. 
“Damn gremlin didn’t even say bye. Here i was thinking we have something special.”
“Hi Shorter! Hi Eiji! I can’t thank you enough for tonight. She really needed it.” 
“It’s ok Ash. He is a little loud and Shorter here is never truly helpful, but it’s our pleasure. Are Y/N and the baby ok?”
“Hm, not really. I mean the baby seems to be fine, but she isn’t. Throws up everything she eats. The doctor said it is because her body is getting used to the pregnancy, but this didn’t happen when we had Isaac. I’m just worried for her.”
“She’s strong. She can take it I’m sure.” Shorter nodded, agreeing with Eiji’s statement. 
“I know Eiji, I’m not worried about that. Truth is she seems happy to be pregnant. She’s beaming all the time, even after she got everything she ate out, and I feel bad. I feel like she’s in pain. Her smile makes me feel even worse.” Shorter laid a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, taking his sunglasses off. 
“Ash...listen to me. Y/N is someone who’s never lied to you about anything. She’s been genuine about everything. She would never fake a smile and she would tell you if she wanted to abort the baby. The fact that she’s smiling and being her bubbly self only means that the pregnacy isn’t that hard on her. Trust me Ash. I see the look in her eyes when the baby is brought up in any conversation. She’ll be fine. You’ll be a bigger family. Loosen up a little.” 
“Thank you Shorter. I owe both of you a drink. I’ll call you. Thank you for babysitting again.” And with that, all three of tehm smiled at each other while Ash picked the tiny shark backpack and went back to the car.
     Once inside, the older blond turned towards the younger one, smiling.
“Ready to see mom, bub?”
“Mhm! Is she feeling better?”
“Yep.”
     The car ride was one of the happy moments Ash wanted to hold onto. The sang together and talked about how Shorter told Isaac about the motorcycle.
“It’s true, you know? I do know how to ride one. When you’re older, I can teach you too.”
“I wanna ride one now. I’ve seen my friends with theirs, I want one too!”
“Those are lame. I’m talking about the real ones. That’s the true fun.”
     Once at home, Ash dropped everything on the floor and went to help his son hung his coat on the wall. The little boy jumped out of his red sneakers and ran down the hall yelling for his mom. 
“In the kitchen baby. I was cutting you a slice of cake.It’s vanilla, since I know you like the chocolate one’s less. Where’s daddy?”
“Right behind you.” said Ash, placing his hands on her hips and swaying her a little. She turned around to give him a kiss on the cheek, but her 5 month bump got in the way, making her pull a frustred face and Ash smile even more. Isaac pushed his dad to the side a little, making grabby hands at his mom. No matter how old he acted, his real age was always given away by his gestures around his mom. 
     Getting his slice of cake, Isaac turned back towards the living room. Eating on the couch was never truly forbidden.
“Mama, tomorrow is Yuri’s birthday. He celebrating it at home, I have the invitation in my drawing notebook. Can I go?”
“Sure you can. we just have to go buy a gift in the morning.”
“A birthday huh? That means a little more alone time for us two.” Y/N hid her face in her husband’s neck, smiling a little. Ash’s finger went to the back of her neck, getting her to look up at him to give her a kiss, but then...
“Gross! He likes cars mama, go brainstorm on that insted of smooching dad in the kitchen!”
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autumnalhalcyon · 3 years
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yknow, im not fucking done. bc mainstream activism, be it feminism or gay/trans rights, refuses to take into account the people they leave behind.
nobody wants to talk about the role amab people take in these movements. sure, a lot of yall are vocal about terfs, tehms and other binary trans exclusionary groups, but when nb people factor in, all i ever see are white afab people. ive seen stories about people refusing to acknowledge, and even expelling amab people who try to join nonbinary support and social groups. people see selfies of me where i look particularly androgynous and insist i have to be afab, bc otherwise i couldn't POSSIBLY look andro. when i see posts on the subject, the notes and tags are filled with afab folk making it about them, when were excluded by EVERYONE, because we're "not trans enough", and we're not "cis enough".
that's not even getting into how feminists RARELY talk about how much law enforcement and divorce courts tend to lean towards afab folk. men getting away with sexual assault on shit charges to preserve their scholarships are horror stories ive seen plenty of, but if you're like me, an amab person who still lives with a woman who's been sexually abusing me for YEARS and is gonna get the fuck away with it for the most part, you can see where the scales lie.
if my fucking rapist decided she wanted to beat the shit out of me, ID be the one fucking cuffed. I have video fucking evidence of her admitting to THREE COUNTS OF RAPE, and people still take her fucking side. i had to witness my best fucking friend throughout high school end up trapped with his violent, abusive wife WHO ADMITTED POINT BLANK to hitting him. THE LAW DOESNT EVEN CONSIDER A MAN TO HAVE BEEN R*PED UNLESS HE'S BEEN PENETRATED FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
I see way too many predatory, abusive women get away with horrid, unspeakable acts, getting to prance around acting like theyve got so much fucking "girl power" for manipulating, beating and r*ping amab people without any fucking recourse. when amab people act like this, their victims are RIGHTFULLY allowed to be angry!
but when women beat and abuse and r*pe us, OUR fucking anger is inherently fucking abusive to yall! according to today's society, (the vast fucking majority of it, dont bring up fucking semantics) we "did something to deserve it", we "actually liked it", we should "just let it fucking happen"!
Between all of this and the way TERFs act, is there any fucking wonder why a good portion of people tend to (wrongfully) assume feminists are just man-haters with a chip on their shoulder?
And I say all of that, to bring it back the fuck around: amab nonbinary people not only have the regular demonization and the refusal of almost EVERYONE to take us fucking seriously when we're being abused, but we can't fucking be taken seriously about our fucking GENDER, either! Even within the queer community, anyone with a slab of meat hanging between their fucking legs are only allowed to be a cis man, or a trans woman (and even they are on thin ice to yall), because otherwise we're just predators trying to invade your fucking spaces.
But no one wants to fucking talk about that. No one wants to listen to listen to an queer, amab nonbinary person who has been failed by not just the system, but also the communities they've desperately looking for support within.
We need to talk about the people your activism leaves behind. Because this shit is how movements fall apart.
Reblogs are encouraged, but don't fucking clown on this post.
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strxberri · 4 years
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「 𝒏𝒄𝒕 127 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 | 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒖𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 」
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main m.list | nct m.list
[a/n: pls ignore any captions on the gifs | also this is only for entertainment purposes, do not come for me for writing this]
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♡ 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 ♡
It was Taeyong’s first time meeting him and you could tell that he was not enjoying your best friend’s comments about your body. After he went home, Taeyong told you how he felt about him. “I don’t like him flirting with you right in front of me.”
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♡ 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒊𝒍 ♡
You and Taeil were out when your guys best friend came running up to you two giving you the biggest hug. You introduced tehm to each other, your best friend seemed to like Taeil, but on the other hand Taeil thought that he was just too touchy and flirty towards you. “I don’t like the way he touches you.”
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♡ 𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 ♡
Johnny has never liked it when you were talking with any guy that wasn’t him or another member. When he met your childhood best friend he wasn’t too into how he was interacting with you and when he left Johnny told you how he really felt. “Why is he your best friend, he clearly wants you to be his girlfriend.”
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♡ 𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂 ♡
Yuta knew before meeting him that he could be very flirtatious towards you, because he’s heard you guys facetiming before. When they met, Yuta tried guys best to get along with him, but he just couldn’t stand the way that he was talking to you. “Baby, you’re mine and I don’t like the way he’s speaking about your body.”
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♡ 𝒅𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 ♡
Dongyoung has got along with all of your friends except for one, your guy best friend. They would always argue about you when you weren’t in the room. Dongyoung finally had enough when he grabbed your thigh during a movie and kicked him out. “I don’t want him here anymore, you guys can go hang out somewhere else if you really wanna see each other.”
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♡ 𝒋𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏 ♡
You never knew how jealous Yoonoh could get until he met your guys best friend. Yoonoh would just stare him down, but he had enough of it when your friend rubbed your knee be day yo try to make you feel better. “I can help if you’re feeling down, even if I caused it come to me and tell me.”
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♡ 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒘𝒊𝒏 ♡
You have been introducing Sicheng to all of your closest friends and you saved your guy best friend for last because you weren’t sure how Sicheng would react to his attitude. When they met Sicheng was trying to get along with him, but he just could stand to hear him talk to you like that. When he left Sicheng told you that he didn’t want you hanging out with utah him any more. “I don’t think that you guys should be hanging out if he’s flirting with you other people probably think that you two are thing.”
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♡ 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒐 ♡
Jungwoo saw you two laughing one day, so he cane over asking you who it was that you were talking to. You told him that he was just a friend, but Jungwoo wanted to see how he acted towards you, and Nungwoo was not enjoying your guys’ attitude towards each other. “Why are you flirting with him right in front of me?”
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♡ 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌 ♡
Mark has been all of your friends except for one, your guy best friend, you guys have been best friends since pre-school. While he was over Mark seemed to like him until he started complementing your figure and then Mark just couldn’t wait for him to leave. “Why was he flirting with you right in front of me, he knows that we’re dating right?”
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♡ 𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏 ♡
Haechan has been asking you to invited over your best friend, since you’ve been talking about him a lot recently and he’s been calling you when he needs your help with something. You finally caved in and let Haechan meet him, but he soon regretted wanting to meet him brcUd dig the way he talking to you and how he would touch you. “How are you friends with him, he’s way too touchy.”
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pers-books · 4 years
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Hey so the tropes list failed big time by not included trapped in a lift, so I figure we'll have to make do with 70 - Locked in a Room. And maybe you could pair it with 27. Sick/Injured Fic, if that's okay? And thanks for writing tehm.
Ooh, that’s definitely given me an idea, Anon - which well and truly ran away with me! Oof! I’ve spent most of the last twelve hours writing this! I hope you enjoy it. (Canon divergent angst with a happy ending.)
Serena Campbell is already feeling on edge at having to share the lift with Berenice bloody Wolfe, to whom she has said very few words and none of them not strictly professional since she slunk back to Holby from Kiev three weeks ago, and then the lift breaks down. The thought of being trapped in there with the blonde is entirely unappealing so she immediately presses the button to indicate to maintenance that it's broken down. "Stubbs here," says a familiar voice. "Serena Campbell. The lift has broken down." "We're aware, Ms Campbell, and we'll have you out of there as soon as we can." "Thank you." Serena heaves a sigh. She's glad that she's wearing her coat as it's been a bitterly cold night and the lift isn't warm; she'd barely arrived on AAU when Sacha had called her for an urgent consultation, so she had gone straight up to see him without removing her coat. Bernie, on the other hand, is only wearing her scrubs and looks far from warm. Serena tries not to care, or to wonder why she isn't wearing her usual long-sleeved thermal top under her scrub top. She does manage to refrain from asking about this. "I hope Mr Stubbs remembers to let Fletch know where you are or he'll be wondering why you're not there for the handover of the ward." Bernie's voice sounds hoarse, Serena notices, and she can't help frowning. "Are you sick?" she asks. "Do you care?" Serena can't help hearing the edge of bitterness in Bernie's voice. "I care if it means that the ward will be down a consultant again." "I've got a minor cold, that's all." Serena does not say: It serves you right for running off to Kiev for two months in the middle of winter; nor Perhaps if you wore more layers you wouldn't be so susceptible; nor You need more meat on your bones. She does notice, however, that Bernie seems to have lost some weight since she went to Kiev, which she couldn't afford to do given how slender she is on a normal day. Right now she looks as if one puff of wind would knock her down. Serena is alarmed to notice the dark smudges under the other woman's eyes, and she reluctantly wonders how much sleep Bernie's getting. She recalls that she's the one who switched Bernie over to nights only a couple of days after her return from Kiev because she couldn’t bear to see the other woman’s hangdog expression on her ward. She wonders, a little guiltily, if she’s being too hard on Bernie, then she decides that she is not the one at fault, here. She is not the one who buggered off to Kiev at five minutes notice, all because she was scared - as if Serena herself wasn’t scared! It’s positively terrifying to realise that you’ve fallen in love with your best friend, and even more so when said friend is a woman.
The lift intercom crackles into life. “Ms Campbell?”
“Yes Mr Stubbs?”
“I’m afraid it’s going to take us a little longer to get you out of the lift as there’s an intermittent electrical fault that we’re having trouble tracking down.”
Serena pinches the bridge of her nose. “Very well.”
“I’ve got my boys and girls on it, and we’ll have you out of there as soon as we can.”
“Thank you, Mr Stubbs.”
“I’ve notified Mr Fletcher on AAU of your whereabouts. He asked me if you’d seen Ms Wolfe? He said she’d gone up to consult on Darwin and no one’s seen her since.”
“She’s here, Mr Stubbs,” Serena tells him wearily.
“Ah. Good to know. I’ll inform Mr Fletcher.”
“Very well, Mr Stubbs.”
“Cheerio.” There’s a click and Serena knows Stubbs has gone. She heaves a sigh, wishing she’d taken the stairs instead, although that’s not something she does. Unlike Bernie Wolfe, who has a habit of going up and down the stairs like a young mountain goat.
“Why are you in here?” she asks.
Bernie seems to shrink in on herself, wrapping her arms around torso. “The lift’s available for everyone to use,” she mutters.
“Yes, but you usually take the stairs.”
The blonde shakes her head. “I knew you were due in for the handover of the ward. I thought the lift would be quicker. Wish I’d taken the stairs now.”
“You and me, both.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ms Campbell, to inconvenience you with my presence. Do you imagine I’m enjoying this any more than you? Being trapped in a small box with someone who’s gone out of their way to demonstrate their complete indifference to my existence?”
Bernie turns away, but not before Serena sees the hurt in her eyes. She swallows, about to speak, but Bernie stumbles against the wall, and Serena realises that she’s gasping for breath and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her skin. She frowns.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” The words rasp from Bernie’s throat, then she tucks herself into the back corner of the lift, sliding down the wall to sit with her knees bent up and her arms wrapped around her legs. Serena can hear her breathing has become ragged and she diagnoses a panic attack.
The realisation that Bernie Wolfe, the great and illustrious Bernie Wolfe, who’s known for her fearlessness under fire, is having a panic attack freezes Serena in place. She wonders, furiously, how long this has been going on, how long her co-lead has been hiding this from her. She doesn’t stop to consider that she’s been ostracising Bernie since her return from Kiev, and therefore hasn’t encouraged any kind of openness between them.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re suffering from panic attacks?” she demands.
“Piss off, Campbell,” Bernie says, her face still buried against her bent knees. “Hanssen knows. My therapist knows. No one else needed to.”
“I’m your co-lead!” Serena snaps.
Bernie lifts her head a little and Serena feels her heart clench at the hurt, anger, and misery in the other woman’s eyes. “Could’ve fooled me,” Bernie rasps out. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hard to co-lead a ward with someone when they’re permanently on nights and you exchange the bare minimum of words with them every day at the handover. I understand that I hurt you - very badly - but your behaviour’s hardly been professional, Ms Campbell.”
“I -”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“What does that mean?” Serena feels a surge of panic at Bernie’s words. “Are you leaving again?”
“You’ve demonstrated, both during my absence and since my return, that AAU doesn’t really need two consultants to run it. I spoke to Hanssen last week and suggested that it would be better for the harmony of the ward if I left. I have three more weeks of my notice left to work out, then I’ll be gone.”
“Running away, again?”
“No. Making a strategic withdrawal to go where my skills will be useful and to where I won’t be treated like a leper.”
“Well, if you hadn’t run away -”
Bernie snorts. “In your professional opinion, Ms Campbell,” she begins, emphasising the word ‘professional’, “do you consider it sound management practice to ostracise a member of your team; to only include them in meetings as an afterthought and with no regard for the fact that you’re making them cut short their sleep cycle to attend said meetings; and to generally behave as if they’re something nasty on the sole of your shoe? I ask from a purely disinterested point of view, you understand - just hoping for a bit of insight to take with me to my next post.”
Serena can’t help gaping, open-mouthed, at Bernie as she quietly tears shreds off her, but before she can respond the intercom crackles again.
“Ms Campbell?”
“Here.” Serena hasn’t, in fact, moved away from the lift control panel where the speaker for the intercom is positioned.
“We think we’ve traced the fault so we’re just going to give the system a test run, and provided that works, we’ll get you out of there.”
“Thank you, Mr Stubbs.”
“Hang tight, ladies.”
Serena hears a pained noise and turns to see Bernie getting up stiffly, and she can’t help thinking that the blonde’s back must be playing merry hell with her now. 
After a few minutes of deafening silence, the lift shudders into motion, and Serena heaves a silent sigh of relief. She desperately wants to get out of this box. She even more desperately wants to talk to Henrik - although she’ll ask him to come down and see her, she thinks, rather than risk taking the lift back up to see him.
She makes straight for the office to hang up her coat and deposit her handbag in the bottom drawer of her desk, then she heads to nurses’ station for Fletch to update her on the patients they have on the ward this morning.
She deliberately keeps her back turned to the office, not allowing herself to watch Bernie making her way inside to gather her coat and satchel before she heads to the locker room to change out of her scrubs and into those impossibly skinny jeans she favours, and whatever shirt and sweater combination she’s wearing today.
Once Fletch has got her caught up, she makes her way back to her office and calls Henrik, who agrees to come down to see her within the hour.
While she waits, she focuses on getting caught up on the NHS’ endless paperwork.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“You might have told me Bernie’s leaving,” Serena all but snaps at Hanssen when he shows up forty minutes later.
“It’s hardly my responsibility to do so,” Henrik says, apparently unperturbed by her manner. “You’re co-leads, which implies that you communicate with one another.” He steeples his fingers, pressing his chin lightly to the points. “How did you find out?”
“She told me. When we were trapped in the lift.” She swallows. “We had a row, in the lift.”
“Well, having a row is a form of communication, I suppose. Though hardly the most productive one.”
“No,” Serena agrees in a small voice. “She - she critiqued my management style.”
“Did she now? I must say I did wonder how long she would suffer your behaviour in silence.”
“And why didn’t you tell me she’s suffering from panic attacks?” demands Serena.
“See above re responsibility and communication,” Henrik says. “I was told in confidence.” He eyes her, then adds, “I found Berenice in the midst of having one in the Peace Garden two weeks ago.”
“When?”
“The morning after the night shift where she had to operate on two young children and their mother who were hit by a drink driver when they were on their way to the supermarket.”
Serena swallows. “I remember she stayed late that morning, fretting about the three of them.”
“And you lost both of the children before she left,” Henrik observes.
“I should have known she’d take it to heart.”
“Yes, Serena, you should. For how long are you going to go on punishing her for taking that secondment in Kiev?”
“She ran away from me!”
“Yes, but she also came back. I doubt she’ll have told you this, but she was offered a permanent place in the new Trauma Unit in Kiev. She’d have had a team of ten dedicated doctors and nurses working under her direction and much greater scope for her considerable talents. Instead, she chose to come back to Holby, where she has a single trauma bay and no dedicated staff.” He gets to his feet. “She came back to you, Serena, and now you’re doing everything you can, it seems to me, to drive her away again. It’s hardly surprising, really, is it, that Ms Wolfe has decided she’d rather go elsewhere?”
“I had better talk to her later.” She swallows. “Assuming she’ll talk to me.”
“You can only try,” Henrik says. “You may tell her from me that I would be happy should she choose to withdraw her resignation.”
“I will.”
He nods, then departs and Serena leans her elbows on her desk and presses her face to her hands. She sits like that for some time, then she straightens up and calls up the staff rotas. Time to fix at least one thing that she can easily put right. In only a matter of minutes she has the schedules rearranged so that Bernie will be back to working the day shift alongside her. The change doesn’t come into effect until the beginning of next month - which is, in fact, just a week away - but it’s a start.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Serena’s plan to talk to Bernie is derailed when the woman in question doesn’t appear on the ward ten minutes before their official handover time as she usually does. Instead, a young Black woman knocks on the half open door to the consultants’ office and introduces herself as Martha.
“Sorry, why are you here?” Serena asks, confused.
“Ms Wolfe asked me to cover for her,” Martha explains. “She’s unwell.”
Serena frowns. “She told me she had a cold.”
Martha raises an eyebrow. “Pneumonia, I reckon,” she says. “I left her a course of antibiotics to take, but I don’t think you should expect to see her for a few days.”
Serena heaves a sigh. “Very well. Thank you, Martha. Let me talk you through the patients we have on the ward this evening.”
Once the handover is complete Serena pulls on her coat, grabs her handbag, and heads out to her car. She feels grateful that Jason is spending a couple of nights at Allan’s, so she doesn’t have to worry about his schedule, because she’s going to go over to Bernie’s and check that she’s okay. She doesn’t distrust Martha, but she does want to be sure before she heads home. 
She pauses at the supermarket on the way to Bernie’s so that she can pick up a few things the trauma surgeon might not have on hand. Then she drives the rest of the way to the block of flats where Bernie lives and carrying the bags of shopping, she makes her way up the three flights of stairs to Bernie’s flat. (Oddly enough, she finds she’d rather not use the lift.)
She pauses on the landing at the top of the third flight of stairs finding herself embarrassingly winded by the climb, then she crosses the hallway to Bernie’s door.
Serena almost doesn’t recognise the trauma surgeon when she opens the door. She’s clad in blue plaid flannel pyjamas and wearing thick woolly socks; she’s wrapped herself in a couple of heavy blankets, her hair is plastered to her head, and she’s even paler than usual apart from two fever spots high on her cheeks.
“What?” Bernie asks aggressively, before turning her face away to cough into a corner of the topmost blanket. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to harass me for daring to fall ill?”
“I deserve that,” Serena says mildly. “I came to see if you were okay and I brought you some supplies.”
Bernie’s eyes widen. “You’ve changed your tune.”
Serena swallows. “I was out of order, this morning.” She huffs. “I’ve been out of order since you got back. I’ve behaved very unreasonably towards you and I wouldn’t blame you if you’d rather throw me out, but at least let me leave you this stuff.”
“I don’t need your charity, Campbell.”
“I know. It’s - it’s not charity. It’s a gesture of friendship and apology.”
Bernie sighs. “Come in, you’re letting in a draught.” She shuffles away and Serena steps inside, closing the door behind her, then follows Bernie down the hall and into the sitting room.
“It’s not very warm in here, is it?” Serena asks in concern.
“Central heating boiler’s gone,” Bernie tells her. “No heat or hot water for the last couple of days. I’m waiting for the letting agent to arrange for a new one. Should be here in a couple more days.”
Serena is appalled. “Bernie, you can’t stay here. It would be bad enough if you were fit and healthy, but you’re not.”
“Why do you care?” Bernie asks. “We both know that you’ll be only too happy to see the back of me.”
“No, I won’t,” Serena says. “I talked to Hanssen this morning. He told me that the Ukrainians wanted you to say, offered you a job with your own dedicated team and everything. Far more than we’ve offered you. He suggested that the reason you came back to Holby was for me.”
“I came back for us,” Bernie says, not looking at her. “For AAU and our trauma unit, and us. But you’ve made it clear that there is no ‘us’ and that I am very much not wanted here, so I shall go where I can be of use and where I won’t feel like a criminal all the time.”
She stops to cough again, the blanket pressed to her mouth and nose.
“We need to get you out of here,” Serena says. “You can’t stay here without heat and hot water, you’ll end up with pleurisy or something.”
“I’ve already told you that I don’t need your charity,” Bernie says, wheezing.
“Don’t be bloody stubborn, woman,” Serena says in exasperation. “You’re coming home with me until you’re well again.”
“Make me,” Bernie snarls.
Serena snorts. “That’d be easy, the state you’re in right now - you’re as weak as a kitten.” She sighs. “Berenice Wolfe, if you don’t agree to come home with me I will call Fletch and Ric, and they will bring you by force. Your choice.”
“I don’t know why you care,” Bernie grumbles, shuffling out of the room. 
“Because I love you,” Serena says crossly.
Bernie stops dead, then turns around slowly, eyes wide with shock. “You -”
“Yes. I love you. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out in anger like that, but yes.” She sighs. “I know my words and behaviour don’t match. I know I’ve been behaving like an absolute cow and treating you horribly, and I wouldn’t blame you if you disbelieved me, but it’s true, Berenice Griselda Wolfe. I love you.”
“Oh.”
“Will you please let me start to make things up to you by letting me take you home? There are a couple of guest rooms to choose from. And I’ll feed you beef stew for dinner and soup for lunch tomorrow. And -”
“What about Jason?”
“Jason’s at Allan’s tonight and tomorrow. Besides, he likes you a lot - he’ll probably be delighted to have you staying over.”
“Can’t deny I feel like shit,” Bernie murmurs.
“Then -”
Bernie sighs. “Anything to get you off my back, Campbell.”
“Good.” Serena carries the bags of groceries back down the hall, leaving them by the front door. “Let’s get a bag packed for you, and then I’ll take you there.”
Bernie nods, leading the way into her bedroom. Serena can’t help noticing that it, like her sitting room, is very Spartan, but she keeps that observation to herself. Instead she pulls the khaki coloured kitbag off the top shelf of the wardrobe at Bernie’s request, then fills it up with clothes, pyjamas, and underwear, before adding the toiletries bag from the bathroom, into which Bernie drops two lots of medication. Then she puts in Bernie’s tablet and its charging cord, before checking if there’s anything else she wants.
“I’d better put on some boots and a coat,” the blonde says.
“Okay.” Serena waits until Bernie’s ready, noticing that she’s shed one of her blankets, but that she keeps the other one wrapped around her shoulders before she pulls on her wool coat.
They make their way downstairs, although they take the lift this time, Serena still carrying the two bags of shopping, while Bernie insists on carrying her kitbag.
They load up the boot of the car, then Bernie climbs into the passenger seat and Serena into the driver’s seat. “Anything you want to pick up on the way?” she asks as she pulls out of the parking spot near Bernie’s building.
“New lungs?” Bernie suggests.
Serena chuckles. “That’s a hard ask,” she observes.
“I know. And yes, I do know it’d be better if I stopped smoking.”
“I never said a word on the subject.”
“You didn’t have to. I know you were thinking it. I have tried.”
Serena reaches over to pat Bernie’s knee, waiting at the red light. “We all have our vices. Yours is fags, mine is booze.”
Bernie nods, the leans her head against the window. Moments later, when Serena glances across, the blonde is fast asleep. She sighs, wondering how she could have been so bitter and cruel to Bernie, particularly given that she truly does love her. 
Once they reach Serena’s leafy detached she drops her hand to Bernie’s knee and squeezes. “C’mon, love, let’s get you into the warm.”
Bernie stirs awake, blinking furiously in some bewilderment. “What -” she starts, then stops. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s fine,” Serena says. She unbuckles both of their seat belts, then climbs out of the car and goes to unlock the front door. 
When she returns Bernie is just easing herself out of the car. 
“Go straight in,” Serena tells her. “Sitting room’s the first door on the right. I’ll bring in the bags.”
“I can -”
“Please, Bernie, just go indoors, into the warm.”
“Aye, Fräulein.” She tips two fingers to her brow in an approximation of a salute.
“Shush, you,” Serena says fondly and gets a shy smile in response.
Bernie heads towards the front door without further argument, to Serena’s intense relief, and she focuses on getting the bags from the boot and into the house as she only wants to make one trip. She slings the strap of Bernie’s kitbag across her chest, then grabs the two shopping bags and carries everything indoors.
She notes Bernie’s coat is hung up on a coat peg next to Serena’s empty one, and her boots are on the shoe rack beneath. She sets down the bags, removes her own coat and shoes, leaving her handbag on the hall table, then she slips on her house shoes before going in search of her guest.
“How about a nice hot soak in the bath and a cup of tea while I make dinner?” she asks.
Bernie’s perched on the edge of the armchair that Jason usually favours and she can’t help smiling at the sight of her in his usual spot.
The trauma surgeon groans. “A bath sounds wonderful. I’ve only got a shower in my place.”
“Come on, then. I’ll show you the guest rooms and the bathroom. My only request is that you don’t rearrange anything in the bathroom as Jason’s very particular about where his things go. One of the reasons that I’m glad Ellie only comes home rarely.”
“Don’t you worry about messing up his things when you’re coming in late from Albie’s?” Bernie asks.
“Cheeky,” Serena says, swatting her lightly on the arm. “No, I don’t. My room has an ensuite.”
“Gosh. Posh.”
She chuckles. “Come on, upstairs with you.” She makes a point to grab Bernie’s kitbag once they’re in the hall, then leads the way upstairs.
“That’s my room, to the left,” Serena tells her. “This one on the right is Jason’s, and the one beyond it is Ellie’s, so you have the choice of one opposite Jason or one opposite Ellie.”
“Jason,” Bernie says, so Serena opens the door to the guest room opposite Jason’s room, and ushers her friend inside. 
“Do you want some bath salts in the bath?” she asks, getting a nod in response. “Okay. I’ll get some towels for you to use and leave them on the heated towel rails.”
“You don’t have to go to so much trouble,” Bernie says as she unwinds the blanket from around her body.
“No, but I want to. I want to care of you and make you feel at least a little bit better. If that’s okay with you?”
“Don’t mind if you do, Campbell.”
“Good.” She goes into the bathroom and starts the bath running, adding some Radox muscle relaxing bath salts to the water. She grabs the spare bathrobe from the back of the door and hands it to Bernie to change into, then fetches some towels from the linen cupboard. When she returns to the bathroom Bernie’s hovering by the door, the bathrobe wrapped around her body and her arms wrapped around herself. 
“Let me just pop these onto the towel rails, then I’ll leave you in peace.”
“I didn’t figure you for someone who was into aromatherapy candles,” Bernie observes.
“They’re Elinor’s actually. She didn’t bother taking them with her the last time she went back to Cambridge. Would you like me to light them for you?”
“No. Thank you.”
Serena nods and moves back out of the bathroom so that Bernie can enter. “Would you like me to bring up a cup of tea, or do you prefer to have it when you come downstairs?”
“I’ll have it when I come down, thanks.”
“Okay. The beef stew should be ready in about half an hour.” Seeing Bernie’s frown, she elaborates, “I do it in the slow cooker, so it’s been on for most of the day.”
Bernie nods. “I’ll be there.”
Serena nods, then backs out of the bathroom and heads to her own bedroom to change into something more casual. She doesn’t go for the pyjama-clad look that Bernie’s adopted, but she does find an old pair of Keller scrub bottoms, so she slips into them, then adds a comfy sweater as well. Next she heads to the kitchen to lay the table for two and to fill the kettle for that cuppa that she desperately wants right now. It’s odd for her not to want a glass of Shiraz, but for once she’d rather have some tea.
Bernie arrives in the kitchen about twenty minutes after Serena left her. “I felt that I was in danger of falling asleep in there,” she explains.
“Okay. Tea?”
“Yes, please.” She sits down at a gesture from Serena, then says, “Thank you for doing this.”
Serena squeezes her shoulder in passing. “It is literally the least I can do for you after the last three weeks.”
She makes a mug of tea for Bernie, adding two sugars and just a splash of milk, then hands the mug over, and tries not gasp when their fingers brush as the blonde takes the mug from her.
She puts the radio on low, then serves up two platefuls of the stew. “Jason likes warm crusty bread with his. Would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” 
Serena takes the loaf from the oven where it has been warming and cuts several thick slices, then sets them on a plate on the table along with some butter. “Help yourself.”
Bernie takes a slice and butters it thickly, then sets to eating. They eat in silence but, for the first time since Bernie’s return from Kiev, it’s a silence that’s companionable rather than fraught, and Serena feels herself relaxing.
“More?” she asks when Bernie’s finished her first plateful. “There’s plenty there, still.”
“Yes, please,” Bernie says with a bashful smile.
Serena fills her plate again, then sits down to finish her own meal. “When was the last time you ate a decent meal?” she asks. “And I don’t mean take away or pizza?”
Bernie shrugs, then swallows a mouthful. “I haven’t had much appetite lately.”
“Well that explains why you look painfully skinny. I noticed it this morning when we were stuck in the lift.”
“I - um - I haven’t been eating or sleeping properly since - well, since I went to Kiev.”
Serena sighs softly. “Oh Bernie. Whatever am I going to do with you?”
That elicits another shrug and Serena shakes her head, despairing slightly. She can’t help watching the trauma surgeon from the corner of her eye and when she notices Bernie is starting to droop with tiredness, she clasps her arm briefly, then says, “You should go to bed, love.”
“Yeah,” Bernie agrees without making any effort to move.
Serena tuts, then gets to her feet and coaxes the blonde out of her seat and guides her upstairs to the guest room.
“I hope you sleep better tonight. If you need anything feel free to text me.”
“Thank you.”
“Good night, Bernie.”
“G’night S’r’na.”
Serena could swear the other woman’s asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. She can’t help leaning down to press a fond kiss to Bernie’s brow, then she backs out of the room, turning out the light on the way.
She heads back downstairs to the kitchen and clears away their meal things, loads up the dishwasher, then switches it on. Then she pours herself a half glass of Shiraz and takes it into the sitting room: there are a couple of television shows she wants to catch up on, so she intends to take advantage of Jason’s absence to start watching at least one of them. Her internet researches after she and Bernie had kissed had led her to Orange is the New Black, which is, apparently, the lesbian show to watch. Now is the time to make a start on it, she decides.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Bernie stays at Serena’s for three days, spending most of her time sleeping and fighting the pneumonia. In the evenings they sit at opposite ends of the sofa, their feet tangled together and a blanket covering them as far as their waists. It is, Serena decides, sheer domestic bliss, and it’s something she desperately wants to revel in, but she doesn’t know if Bernie feels the same and she’s almost too afraid to ask.
Then on the third evening, in an interlude between Jason’s various programmes, Bernie murmurs, “This is nice.”
“Yes, it is,” Serena agrees. “Maybe we could do it again, without the pneumonia.”
Bernie chuckles wheezily. “That would be even nicer.”
“I do wish you wouldn’t go back to your flat tomorrow. I know the letting agent let you know the boiler’s been replaced, but I - well, I couldn’t help noticing it’s a bit Spartan.”
“I don’t want to get in the way,” Bernie says.
“You’re not,” Serena replies instantly. “You are definitely not.” She looks around at her nephew as he comes into the sitting room with a plate of his favourite biscuits and a mug of tea. “Jason, do you think Bernie’s in the way while she’s staying here?”
“No,” he says immediately. “I like Doctor Bernie being here.” He looks her in the eye for a moment. “And you haven’t messed up the bathroom at all, even though you’re sick.” He settles into his armchair, then adds, “Please stay, Doctor Bernie.”
Serena raises her eyebrows and the blonde sighs. “Well, now that you’ve strong armed me into it,” she says, “I suppose I have no choice.”
Serena grins widely. “Good. I don’t want you to go back to your flat until your doctor tells you that you’re fit to return to work.”
“Aye, Fräulein.” 
Serena squeezes Bernie’s ankle through the blanket, then settles down again, pleased with the success of her appeal to Jason to back her up. 
She’s already notified Hanssen that Bernie’s withdrawn her resignation and he’d been pleased to hear it, and to hear that they’ve made up their differences. He shared Serena’s concern that Bernie had fallen victim to pneumonia but was happy to hear that the trauma surgeon was staying with her and being looked after.
Ideally, she’d like Bernie to move in with her, even if they’re not going to enter into a more intimate relationship - although she hopes that the latter might be a possibility once Bernie’s recovered, particularly given some of the smouldering looks she’s received from the blonde. 
For now, though, she’s happy and she believes Bernie is too - and that is enough for the moment.
[Pick two (2) tropes for me to mash-up and explain how I’d write them (Berena only)]
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batskulldrag · 4 years
Text
Phoenix by Fallout Boy
I’m gonna post chapter three wicked early. I’ll make a chapter list and link tehm alll together as soon as I figure out how.
Abuse mentions. 
Chapter Three: Young Volcanos by Fall Out Boy
               What are you doing!? Don’t show weakness! Virgil’s thoughts screamed at him.
               No, I’m warm and safe. A different thought argued.
               You don’t know him! What if everybody is like Dad!?
               Then I’m already screwed!
               He’ll use this against you!
               How?
               You think I know? I don’t think like them!
               Maybe he doesn’t either!
               You put your guard back up this instant!
               Let me enjoy this…
               Virgil ignored his louder instincts for the time being and pressed his head further into Patton’s shoulder. It was a nice feeling, and sure he probably couldn’t trust this guy, but he was going to enjoy feeling like this while he could. Patton seemed like a nice guy, and he smelled like butter. And everything else smelled like hand sanitizer, and it was cold because it was a hospital. But Patton was all warm.
               Besides, even if he was going to do anything, he couldn’t with witnesses hanging around and security cameras everywhere. Maybe this was ok. Maybe this was normal. Virgil let himself slide down lower and rested his head on Patton’s lap.
               “Ya getting sleepy there, kiddo?” Patton cooed, still stroking his hair.
               “No, I’m ok.” Virgil mumbled. This was nice. He wanted to stay here.
               “Ok.”
               Virgil became aware of Patton’s heartbeat it was going fast. Was he nervous too? That was weird. Why was he worried?
               Virgil sighed. Both Patton and Thomas were probably waiting for him to say something. Hell, they were probably expecting him start belting songs from Annie or jump up and click his heels. It’s not everyday someone gets pulled out of hell and sent somewhere better, so they were probably looking for a more mood fitting reaction than lying down and taking a nap. One more minute.
               “So, what happens now?” Virgil asked, keeping his head on Patton’s lap. One more minute.
               “Well, Patton has already signed all the forms and the background check should be coming back tomorrow.” Thomas answered, for whatever reason he looked really content. “So, as soon as you’re discharged you can go home with him.”  
               “When can I be discharged?” He was trying not to sound too eager. If they knew he wanted something they could probably use that to toy with him.
               “I’m afraid that’s up to your doctors.”
               “Ok.” That made sense.
               “But when you do get out, we’ll have your room all ready.” Patton chirped at him. “And you’ll need to tell me what all your favorite foods are so I can make them.”
               What an odd thing to say. I guess I should get up. One more minute.
               “Ok.” He mumbled.
               “Oh, and do you have any allergies or eating restrictions. Like vegetarian or vegan and the like?”
               “No.” One more minute.
               “As for right now.” Thomas sounded hesitant, was he going to kick Patton out? “Your doctors and I need to document your bruises. And if you want to you can make a statement for prosecution.”
               “Right now?” Virgil sighed, no more hitting reality’s snooze bar. He slowly pulled himself back up.
               “It is better we do it sooner rather than later.” Thomas sighed. “Patton can stay if you’d like him to.”
               “Good idea, I was hoping for an even bigger group of people to see me in my underwear.” Virgil sneered, rubbing his arm. Despite his will he also felt his face going red. Damnit.
               “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s kind of a necessary evil.”
               Virgil sighed and glanced at Patton. He might as well stay. This was as good a test to see if he was weird as any. Right? Yeah, he could be a serial killer, or this could be his kink or something like that. Best to know what he was going to get himself into. Just that. That and no other reason.
               “I mean, he can stay if he wants to.” Virgil mumbled impassively. “It’s a free country, he can do whatever.”
               “I’ll give you your privacy.” Patton replied, ruffling his hair. “I’ll come back in when they’re done kiddo.”
               Patton stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Virgil’s heart sank. Patton abruptly stopped and turned around.
               Are you gonna stay?
               “I almost forgot to give you this.” Patton said happily. “this should help you ‘bear’ your stay here.”
               Patton gleefully produced a stuffed bear and gently set in his mummified hands. As the toy stared derpilly up at him he got the joke and impulsively smiled. Then he saw the pun written across the bear and let out a laugh. Double whammy with the dad jokes. He glanced at Patton and saw that the older man was beaming (bee-ming?), clearly enthralled that Virgil liked the joke.
               “He’s cool.” Virgil tried to play it off. “Thanks.”
               “You’re welcome.” Patton turned back to the door. “I’ll be right out here if you need me. Ok?”
               “Ok.”
               Patton closed the door behind him only to reappear in the window and wave enthusiastically at him. He mouthed out the words I’ll be right here and gave a thumbs up. Virgil waved in return and fought back another smile. Patton was a funny guy and so far, he seemed pretty cool.
                                                                               #             #             #
               Patton shook his arms to get the relief tinglies to calm down. Everything seemed to go well. Virgil didn’t hate him, and he even liked dad jokes. And he liked the bear. So far things were going well.
               He saw them close the blinds in Virgil’s room so that no one in the hallway could peep in on him. They must have started cataloging his bruises. Patton hoped his brother had a mean cellmate. He made a mental note to look up a few legal things when he got home.
               While waiting Patton sent Logan a quick text to let him know everything was going ok on his end and to ask what was going on in the outside world.
                                                                               #             #             #
               Logan set another casserole dish on top of the stove. He had to shove aside the other three dishes, the two pies and the pot of soup. Both Patton’s library friends and all their neighbors had been at it for hours.
               “How many friends does Patton have?” Roman exclaimed, walking into the kitchen with a Tupperware of pasta. “And why are they all old ladies?”
               “Some of them are just parents whose kids were in his class.” Logan sighed. “He’s a lot of kids’ favorite teacher.”
               “Is the fridge full?”
               “Yes, just set the pasta on the table.”
               “Any updates on the news?” Roman set the dish down exhaustedly.
               “No, not yet.” Logan looked at his phone. “Patton texted. He says that Virgil’s fine, and seems excited to come live with us. And of course, he wants to know how we are.”
               “Drowning in food and tired of small talk.” Roman switched into a frail voice. “It was so brave of you to rescue that boy. It’s so good of you three to take that boy in like this. It’s about time Patton and Logan adopted a kid.” He changed back. “I never thought I would get sick of praise. I feel like Jack Skellington.”
               “Minus the kidnapping I hope.”
               “You’re the one with the kid now.” Roman jabbed, eating the pasta straight from the dish with his hands.
               “Roman, get a plate.” Logan began.
               They were interrupted by a knock at the door.
               “If that’s Barbra from next door I’m calling the police.” Roman stood up dramatically.
               “It’s my turn to deal with callers,” Logan walked towards the hallway. “But if it is her, I’m getting you.”
               “Let’s set her up with my brother the next time we know where he is.” Roman laughed. “She’ll never speak to us again.”
               “Neither will Remus.”
               Logan could still hear Roman laughing when he got to the front door. He glanced through the peephole to see if it was indeed well-wishers. He instead saw several smartly dressed people bearing cameras and tape recorders rather than food. With few other options he turned out the lights in the front room and went back into the kitchen.
               Roman was taking inventory when he got back.
               “Say Lo-bot, how much of this could we take to the homeless shelter?” He asked casually. “I don’t want to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but this is a lot. The freezer is full, the refrigerator is full, and the oven is full. It would be more disrespectful to let this go to waste when the less fortunate could have it.”  
               “We will discuss that later,” Logan took the car keys off the rack. “But it is a good idea.”
               “Where are you going?” Roman squinted at him.
               “I’m going to pick Patton up from the hospital.”
               “Who was at the door?”
               “Reporters have found us. I’m all for the first amendment, but I do not wasn’t to be harassed in my own home. So, I’m leaving.”
               “But won’t they go away if we talk to them?”
               “Yes, but then they, and all others will think it’s okay to show up at people’s houses.”
               Roman looked around.
               “We could ask them in for dinner.” He laughed.
               “But we won’t.”
                                                                               #             #             #
               Patton sat at the foot of the bed while Virgil sat across from him at the head. Virgil was sitting cross-legged with his casted foot poking out from under the blanket and the bear in his lap. Patton clicked his heels together; it was very quiet.
               “You’re not much of a talker.” Patton teased.
               “My throat hurts.” Virgil answered.
               “Oh, right. Sorry.”
               WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!!!
               “So, you’re really my dad’s brother?” Virgil asked skeptically.
               “Yeah, he’s about three years older than me.”
               “And you’re related?”
               “Yep, people used to mistake us for twins. Until I had to get glasses.”
               Virgil coughed and tapped the bear on the nose a few times.
               “This isn’t actually my first time meeting you.” Patton started. “My mom and I kind of did a lot of the raising when you were a baby.”
               “Is that stuff dad said true?”
               “No.” Patton dropped his shoulders. “It’s not. Our mother was wonderful and supportive. She even took Logan in after-” He stopped himself. “No, it’s not true. He was the homophobe.”
               “Yeah, I never really believed the pseudo-rape story.” Virgil shifted his feet. “Dad always seemed more like a predatory animal. And maybe that was a front, but if it was it was flawless.”
               “I think Payton said something about being with her for posterity.” Patton rubbed his arm. “She was really pretty and was a cheer leader in high school. And a lot of guys wanted to be with her. So, it was like a triumph for him.”
               “He told you?” Virgil coughed.
               “No. I just kind of figured. He did say he was gonna marry her, you know when we found out about you.”
               “Why?”
               “Because.” Patton mimicked his brother’s tone. “Children need a mommy and a daddy. And I have to accept my mistakes.” Patton switched back. “I never really believed him.”
               Virgil shivered and looked down into his lap. Through his bangs Patton could see him biting his lip.
               “I’m sorry.” Patton said quickly, but softly. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. I should have known that would hit too close to home for you. I’m sorry.”
               Virgil looked at him quizzically and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed utterly baffled. Still looking like the world had just flipped over Virgil crawled over and put his head back into Patton’s lap.
               “Are you ok, Kiddo?”
               “Yeah,” He sounded stunned. “I’m fine. I-I just need to pull my thoughts together.”
               “I get what you mean.” Patton tried to lighten the mood. “I never think straight, just ask my husband.”
               Virgil laughed very softly.
               “We’re gonna have to get that laugh stronger.” Patton teased, stroking his hair. “As soon as your throat is better, we’ll have you practice.”
               “Practice?”
               “Practice laughing, ya goof!”
               “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Virgil said in a strained voice.
               “No, you’re wide awake.” Patton soothed. “And I can prove it. Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?”
               “Like I swallowed a bag of razors.”
               “Well, you can’t feel pain in dreams. And you can only feel one emotion at a time in them.”
               “Really?”
               “Yeppers, if you’re having a happy dream, you’re happy in the dream and nothing else. Same for all the other types of dreams. And they’re never this elaborate.”
               “I guess not.” Virgil yawned.
               “And you can’t get tired in a dream, now can you?” Patton asked, booping the younger man on the nose. “And you can’t learn something you don’t know in a dream, because it’s in your mind. And you don’t know what you don’t know.”
               “So, this is real?” He yawned again. “It’s not a dream or an act or something.”
               “Nope, it’s as real as that sore throat of yours.”
               “Ok.” Virgil sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “You can keep talking if you want.”
               “Maybe I’d better go until you’re feeling better.” Patton brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair. It was starting to feel like he hadn’t showered, which was fair.
               “Can you stay until I fall asleep?” Virgil mumbled, halfway asleep already.
               “Of course, I can.”
                                                                               #             #             #
               Patton paced into the waiting room. Logan had texted him saying he was coming to pick him up. He thought that was a bit unnecessary, but it would be nice to not have to take the bus.
               “Maybe Logan missed me.” Patton said to himself with a coy smile. “I guess we’ll have to pick up dinner on the way back.”
               Patton slid into one of the uncomfortable chairs that normally furnished all waiting rooms. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just tune out for a minute.
               “In other news we have conformation that the destruction of former mayoral candidate Payton Foster’s home last night was in fact arson. Traces of accelerant were found inside the house, leaving Mr. Foster himself as the prime suspect. Police believe he was attempting to destroy evidence of previous crimes for which he had been accused. His teenage son is reported to have escaped the fire with minor injury thanks to the actions of a heroic stranger. That’s quite the Disney convince, eh, Garbo?”
               Patton glanced wearily at the TV as the reporter’s counterpart took over.
               “But he’s not so strange anymore now Malloy. We did figure who he is. Seems that drama teacher slash community theater star Roman Lupine has gotten tired of the stage and is out there looking for drama in real life. That may suit Mr. Lupine, but I think here on Garbo and Malloy we would just stick to playing fictional heroes.”
               Patton started looking for a remote to change the channel or just flat out turn this thing off. The publicity was bad enough, but he hated these guys’ banter. How did they even get this job?
               “And of course, we all recognize Mr. Lupine from his press infiltration over a week ago.” Malloy droned.
               “Speaking of the ShareBook incident, most of our sources believe that Foster’s brother will be taking custody of his son.” Garbo, who was aptly named countered. “But so far no one has been able to get a hold of any of them.”
               “Well let’s hope Mr. Foster and his husband are prepared for their new son coming out as straight.” Malloy swung for the obvious joke.
               The two trash goblins laughed like they were those guys from the Muppets and they mercifully changed the subject.
               “Next up on Garbo and Malloy, Garbo and Malloy go dumpster diving.”
               “Don’t come back.” Patton pleaded as he finally found the remote and shut the TV off. “And Thomas already told that joke.”
               He slid back into a chair and sighed hard. How could anyone joke or bant about this? It was a little like saying Anne Frank was bad at hide and seek, it wasn’t funny. It was just tasteless. And were they making fun of Roman?
               “Excuse me, I’m looking for a patient by the name of Foster.” Someone interrupted his brooding and worsened his mood.
               “Are you family?” The receptionist countered.
               “No, I’m with the press, I’d like to see if he or his current guardians are willing to do an interview.”
               “Come back tomorrow.”
               Not willing to do that, Patton his behind a chair until he was sure this man was gone.
                                                                               #             #             #
               The car ride home was saturated in a tense quiet for the first few minutes. With a look they all communicated exactly what they knew to one another. Unfortunately, they all knew a lot of the same things. Both Patton and Logan had at least fifty unchecked messages on their phones and Roman was in the back seat agitatedly sending out explanations to every single person in his contact list.
            ��  “How has everyone in Florida found out about this so quickly?” Roman sighed from his spot on the back. “One of my students texted me somehow knowing that I was in the hospital last night. I have never been so fed up with the age of information.”
               “They were talking about you on Garbo and Malloy.” Patton added in a barely audible mumble.
               “Were they reviewing the play?”
               “No, they were talking about the fire.”
               “Those two discuss current events?” Logan interrupted, sounding absolutely dumbfounded.
               “Not very well.” Patton sighed. “They were making fun of Roman.”
               “Oh, of course that were!” Roman barked. He then slid into a mimic of one of the reporters. “Next up on Garbage and Malloy, Garbage and Malloy let a child burn to death in a fire, ‘cause people who try to help are just attention seekers. hA ha Ha HA.”
               “Several of your friends from work brought us food and expressions of good luck.” Logan added, evidently trying to change the subject.
               “Aww, that’s sweet.” Patton melted into his seat. “All this talk of my brother was starting to make me doubt humanity.”
               “Well,” Logan sighed. “I certainly hope you’re hungry.”
               A question bounced back and forth between Logan and Roman. Well, more like the question. And the question took turns resting in their brains and mouths but remained unspoken.
               “Patton,” Logan sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.  “Did Payton actually…” He couldn’t say it.
               “Yes.” Patton gagged on the words, they tasted vile. “He did.”
               With that the silence returned.
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n0verias · 7 years
Text
This is for @nyappykid, I was your Ace Attorney Secret Santa! I hope you like it!
Title: Christmas in Khura’in Pairing: Klavier/Apollo Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of crimes/murders, mentions of death Additional Tags: Made-up Khura’inese words, Apollo is a lovestruck fool AO3 Link
December 22, 2028 Justice Law Office
“Horned Head! I command you to help me this instant!” Rayfa shouted as she attempted, with little success, to hold up a huge stream of prayer flags. Her small frame was barely visible with how much she was holding, and Apollo was actually quite impressed.
“I got it.” Apollo lessened the load for Rayfa by taking half the pile in his arms. “I honestly didn’t think Christmas was celebrated here.”
Rayfa let out a pronounced ‘hmph’. “Is that what you call it in America? Here, we call it Khu’khurist. It’s an ancient tradition brought upon by the Holy Mother herself as a means to celebrate all that we are thankful for. And while you selfish Americans demand gift offerings, we hold a giant festival for all to enjoy.”
“And on the day of the 25th, we conclude by lighting the candles of prayer around the giant hal’abad tree.”
Apollo and Rayfa turned to see Nahyuta entering the Justice Law Office with a box of decorations. “And while we generally don’t hand out gifts as Rayfa said, it is not uncommon for couples to exchange a small token of their love for each other.” Nahyuta chuckled as he set down the box. Apollo took a peek and saw that there were a bunch of unlit candles, as well as holly, a wreath, and…oh god, was that what Apollo thought it was?
“Ah, and I did some research on American customs as well. Apparently, Americans hang some kind of plant called ‘mistletoe’ in a doorway, and whoever ends up under it has to kiss someone.” Nahyuta held up the mistletoe in his fingers and tried to find a perfect spot for it. “I thought it would make Apollo feel more at home.”
Apollo grimaced. So it WAS what he thought. “I don’t think something like that is necessary.” Besides, there is literally no one here who he would want to kiss, and he’ll be damned if he had to kiss someone like…Datz. He shuddered at the thought.
Rayfa crossed her arms. “How barbaric. So this is what America is like during the holidays?”
“NO.” Apollo shouted a lot louder than he intended. “Putting something like that up in the office is just asking for bad luck to happen!”
And as if things couldn’t get any worse, Datz Are’bal burst through the door and almost tripped over the rug. He managed to catch his balance as he skidded to a halt right in front of them. “Did you guys hear?! They managed to get some hot shot musician to sing at the festival!”
Nahyuta and Apollo stared at Datz as if he grew a second head. Rayfa in contrast smirked.
“Ah that’s right! I heard from Mother…I—I mean Queen Amara…” Rayfa blushed at her blunder. “That she sought to find a form of American entertainment, since this would be Horned Head’s first Khu’khurist with us.”
Why did Apollo feel so uneasy? “Dare I ask who this musician is?”
Rayfa pondered the thought. “Uh…I believe it was Klavier Gavin…?”
Apollo was stunned into silence. He hadn’t heard from or spoken to Klavier for more than a year…not since that incident at Themis Legal Academy. And if he were to be completely honest, he thought that Khura’in would be the LAST place he would ever run into the fop. Did this mean that Klavier was reviving his musical career? He recalled last time they spoke that Klavier was going to focus more on his prosecuting, especially after Daryan Crescend was convicted of murder and the Gavinners were disbanded. He recalled that to be a dark time for Klavier, and no matter how much the man showed off a smile, it was clear that underneath it was sorrow. Of course, a lot can change within the course of a year. He wondered how Klavier was doing…he didn’t even think that Klavier knew that he was in Khura’in.
“Earth to Apollo!”
Apollo was snapped out of his thoughts by Datz waving his hand ferociously in front of his face. Apollo slapped the hand away with mild annoyance. “Sorry…just that hearing the name Klavier Gavin brings back old memories.”
“Do you know him?” Nahyuta questioned, to which Apollo nodded.
“After a fashion. He’s actually a prosecutor who I fought against on many occasions.”
Rayfa tilted her head. “So he’s a friend? Maybe it’s a good thing he’ll be the one performing, then.”
Could Apollo consider Klavier a friend? Sure they were on good terms both outside the courtroom and inside, but it’s not like they ever took time out of their busy schedules to have a chat over coffee. Apollo sighed. “When’s he supposed to arrive?”
“Actually, he might already be here. His plane landed yesterday and should be staying at Tehm-pul Temple—” Before Rayfa could finish her sentence, Apollo dashed out of the office, leaving behind stunned and mildly amused expressions.
“Something tells me this will be an interesting Khu’khurist indeed.” Nahyuta chuckled.
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Apollo panted and wheezed as he stopped in front of the temple. He hadn’t run that fast in a while, it felt like; but his exhaustion soon wore off when he caught sight of the familiar silhouette of someone he hadn’t seen in a long while. The purple jacket, those rings…that platinum blond hair.”
“K-Klavier?!”
Said figure turned around, revealing crystal blue eyes peeking out from behind black shades. The look of shock on Klavier’s face was very apparent.
“H-Herr Forehead?” Klavier rushed to Apollo. “Mein gott, why are you here?”
Oh, that’s right. He…never told Klavier that his new residence was in Khura’in. “I’ve been living here for a few months now, actually.” Apollo explained awkwardly. “It’s a long story…”
“Oh? So you’re no longer employed under Herr Wright? What did you do that caused him to fire you?” Klavier chuckled.
If there’s one thing he didn’t miss, it was Klavier’s sharp tongue. “That’s not what happened! I told you it was a long story.”
Klavier grinned. “Well, we have plenty of time to catch up. Maybe over drinks?”
Apollo wanted to protest, but a part of him couldn’t bring himself to refuse. It was probably that smile. That annoying, pretty boy smile. He didn’t like talking about the events that transpired earlier in the year, but he supposed he owed Klavier an explanation for disappearing from the courtrooms in Los Angeles.
They managed to find a small café that sold different Khura’inese pastries and drinks, which they sat down and caught up. Klavier told him about how he visited Germany for a couple of weeks, and how his music was still very popular there much to his surprise. His prosecuting career is still as successful as ever, making sure that no one was falsely convicted and that only the true criminal was brought to justice. That was one thing he and Apollo had in common, and something that Apollo was grateful of. On a more somber note…Klavier also told him of Kristoph’s execution. Kristoph Gavin, Klavier’s brother and Apollo’s former boss, was finally executed via lethal injection about a month ago. Klavier was present, and while Kristoph had no last words, their eyes locked one last time before the deed was done.
And as if things couldn’t get more depressing, Apollo decided to tell Klavier about his adoptive father, Dhurke Sahdmadhi, and the events that sparked a revolution here in the Kingdom of Khura’in. Which, of course, included the details surrounding Dhurke’s death, as well as his biological father’s murder at the hands of the former Queen of Khura’in. It was still rather difficult to retell the events that haunted his memories, but he knew that he would have to get over it eventually.
“I’m really sorry to hear about Kristoph.” Apollo looked at Klavier with sympathy. “Regardless of what he’s done, I’m sure it must’ve been hard for you.”
Klavier sighed. “The past is past. I can’t waste time feeling sorry for myself.” He smiled sadly. “It’s strange, really…he had done some cruel things that ruined him, and I pitied him. But as his brother, I couldn’t help but feel sad. He wasn’t even a supportive brother to begin with.”
“That’s only human nature.” Apollo took a sip of his herbal tea. “To me, he was just my boss; but to you, he was family.”
Klavier chuckled. “How about we change the subject to something more…cheerful.” He rested his chin on his hands and smiled. “So am I to understand that you inherited your adopted father’s law office? You sure are making a name for yourself, Herr Forehead.”
Apollo laughed awkwardly and scratched his cheek a little. “Something like that. I wanted Dhurke’s dream to live on, so I made the tough decision to stay here…at least until the justice system in this country gets revived.”
Klavier hummed. “Do you still keep in contact with Fräulein Magician and Fräulein Cykes? And what happened to Fräulein Detective? I haven’t seen her in quite some time.”
“Ever the romantic, aren’t you.” Apollo rolled his eyes. Ema was probably over the moon over not having to work side-by-side with Klavier. “It’s pretty expensive to talk over the phone, but I send them letters whenever I’m able to. Trucy apparently promoted Athena to her magical assistant.” Apollo thanked the stars that he no longer had that position. “As for Ema…I think she’s here in Khura’in, actually.”
That earned him a raised eyebrow, so Apollo explained further. “The prosecutor in this country has taken a liking to her, so she’s here for as long as I have helping us with cases.”
“I’m amazed that someone could tolerate the detective for too long without stepping on her toes.” Klavier chuckled.
Apollo shot him a deadpanned expression. “I’m sure she was only like that because she had to deal with you on a daily basis.”
Klavier feigned hurt. “Way to strike me where it hurts, Herr Forehead.”
Of course, Apollo knew that the real reason behind Ema’s sour attitude back then was due to her having failed the forensics exam. Now that she was a certified forensic scientist, she was in much higher spirits.
They spent a few more minutes of small chatter before leaving the café. And who should they run into but Nahyuta and Rayfa carrying more supplies, no doubt in preparation for the festival.
“So you must be the musician that will be performing in a few days?” Nahyuta questioned, to which Klavier nodded. Nahyuta smiled. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Any friend of Apollo is a friend of mine.”
Apollo crossed his arms. “Klavier, this is Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. He’s the prosecutor for this country. And the girl next to him is Rayfa Padma Khura’in…crowned princess of Khura’in, as well as a holy priestess.”
Klavier whistled. “You sure have friends in high places, Herr Forehead.”
“Herr…Forehead…?” Nahyuta chuckled, and Rayfa smirked.
“I see that Horned Head has many titles.”
Klavier bowed to Rayfa, took her hand in his, and kissed it. “It’s an honor to meet the princess of this country.”
Rayfa’s face turned a dark shade of red and Apollo thought for a moment that she had short-circuited. And as expected, Rayfa hastily pulled her hand away and pouted. “You will cease this inappropriate behavior at once!” Her voice slightly cracked at the end, which didn’t help her case at all.
“I see you’re still an insufferable charmer.” Apollo rolled his eyes, to which Klavier chuckled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Klavier then took Apollo’s hand and did the same thing. “Unless it’s working, of course.”
Apollo stood there, frozen like a statue. “N-Now you’re just trying to be annoying.” However, the fact that he hesitated to pull his hand away caused Nahyuta to chuckle. Thankfully, Klavier didn’t notice as he stood up.
“Well, I think I will head back to my room. I think jet lag is finally catching up with me.” Klavier smiled. “Good to see you again, Herr Forehead. Maybe we’ll see each other tomorrow. My number is still the same.” And with a wink, Klavier walked back in the direction of Tehm’pul Temple without looking back.
After a few minutes of saying nothing, Nahyuta cleared his throat. “So…just a friend, you said?”
Apollo snapped out of his trance. “Uh…what?”
“You and Klavier Gavin seemed very close.”
Apollo was silent for a short moment, before looking to the side. “He and I have known each other for a while. And while I hate to admit it, he’s helped me out with my first few cases as an attorney.”
Nahyuta nodded in understanding. “So your relationship is strictly professional?”
“…What are you implying?”
“You reacted the same way that Rayfa did when Mr. Gavin kissed your hand.” Nahyuta smiled sweetly. “And unlike her, you’re not a small child vulnerable to precocious crushes.”
“Hey!” Rayfa pouted next to Nahyuta, but he ignored her.
“Hm…maybe that mistletoe will come in handy, after all.”
Apollo wasn’t impressed in the slightest. “You’re just imagining things, Nahyuta.” However, that did nothing to stop his heart from racing at an unnatural pace. He desperately wanted the subject to change. “So if you two are here, who’s watching the office?”
Rayfa crossed her arms. “Datz, of course.”
The color from Apollo’s face drained away and he rushed back in the direction of his office, all while grateful for that embarrassing conversation to end.
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“Whoa, you must be in deep trouble if you’re willing to pay for a long distance phone call, Polly!” Trucy’s voice chimed through Apollo’s cell phone. “You’re not in trouble with the law again, are you?”
Apollo frowned. “No, nothing like that…and what do you mean ‘again’?!” He huffed. “If you must know, Klavier is here in Khura’in. To perform for the Christmas festival.”
He could practically feel the amount of glee seeping through Trucy’s voice. “Oooooh, so that’s where he went! We’re actually babysitting his dog for him while he’s away. I wanted to tell you, but by the time the letter would reach you it’d probably be too late.”
Well, he appreciated the thought, he supposed. Though that still did nothing to calm his heart down. It felt like it was about to explode, and there was no way in hell he would ever admit to the reason for it. “I wonder how Ema would react to seeing him here. She’s been so busy with work that I doubt she even knows about the festival.”
Trucy giggled. “It’s just like you to change the subject like that, Polly.”
“I admit nothing.”
“Well, I’m sure Ema won’t be as grumpy as she used to be, now that she can legally take people’s fingerprints!” Trucy’s voice faltered all of a sudden, and soon after there was a loud crashing noise in the background.
“Are you alright, Trucy?!” Apollo began to worry.
Trucy’s voice sounded distant for a moment, before it came back to the phone. “Sorry about that, I’m practicing a new magic trick but Athena keeps messing up her part. She’s enthusiastic, but she doesn’t have the same charm that you did.”
“And I don’t miss those days for a moment.” Apollo deadpanned. “I hope Athena isn’t bleeding to death right now, otherwise Mr. Wright will not only have to find a new attorney, but also deal with Mr. Blackquill’s wrath on top of that.”
“No no she’s fine! For the most part…” Trucy’s voice trailed off. “Might have gotten a few paper cuts but nothing serious! Besides, Pearl is helping out too. She’s our resident first-aid kit for Athena.”
Apollo sighed. “Stop bringing other people into your convoluted magic tricks.”
“I can’t hear you, Polly!” Trucy sing-songed. “So back to your reason for calling. I think your situation desperately calls for some Christmas magic. Like a clear starry night…or mistletoe!”
“Enough with the mistletoe!” Apollo’s chords of steel made its appearance in the form of a grating shout. “It’s not like that.”
“Are you sure about tha—”
Apollo could hear a commotion on the other end, followed by some protests from Trucy. Seconds later, a new voice popped up.
“Okay listen up, Apollo, I was listening to the entire conversation!”
Apollo scowled. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to eavesdrop, Athena?”
Athena scoffed. “Whatever, just listen. You can’t keep your feelings inside you for so long. I’m practically on the other side of the world and I can still feel your emotions loud and clear! And if you think I’m not willing to give you a therapy session over the phone, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Alright, alright I get it. So what are your ears picking up, exactly? Because I have no idea.”
It sounded like Athena grabbed something from the other end. “Glad you asked! Now, as your resident therapist, I suggest you first admit your feelings for Klavier—”
“Wait wait what, WHAT?!” Apollo practically screamed.
“Oh please, Apollo, it was obvious to me since you made that huge tangent about those roses Klavier sent Trucy earlier in the year.” Athena’s voice was flat, and Apollo could just about picture her eyes rolling. “You don’t have to tell the man, but admitting to yourself that you have feelings for him will definitely ease the tight feeling in your chest.”
“………..Goodbye, Athena. Tell Trucy I said goodbye, and if she asks, you are the reason I’m cutting this conversation short.”
Before Athena could protest, Apollo hung up his phone and let out a loud, drawn out sigh. He lied back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
(Feelings for Klavier, huh…)
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December 22, 2028 Wright Anything Agency
“I can’t believe you, Athena!” Trucy huffed with her hands on her hips. “I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him!”
Athena felt only slightly guilty. “It’s not MY fault he refuses to admit his feelings for Klavier!”
Trucy crossed her arms. “Polly’s a boy, Athena! They don’t admit things like that so easily, if at all!”
Athena frowned. “I would think he would have outgrown that behavior by now, he’s in his mid-twenties!”
“Umm…guys?”
Both Trucy and Athena looked in the direction of the voice to see Pearl standing there with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just got off the phone with Bonny. She was wondering if you wanted her to get Mr. Hat ready for tomorrow’s Christmas show…”
“Oh!” Trucy ran to grab her notes that were sitting on the coffee table. “Yeah, if she’s able to!”
Athena toyed with her earring. “…Didn’t Bonny mess up Mr. Hat’s positioning during that one case…?”
“Yeah, but I trust her! Besides, Betty is there too to supervise.” Trucy went back to practicing her magic trick, and Athena grimaced.
(Wasn’t Betty actively trying to sabotage you, too?!)
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December 25, 2028 Justice Law Office
It was finally time for the festival, and Apollo was absolutely floored by how beautiful the bazaar was. Candles illuminated every corner of each store; people selling small candies colored in silver and gold. Khura’in even had their own version of Santa Claus, although it was an overly long name that Apollo couldn’t even try to pronounce if he wanted to. Apparently this version of Santa Claus was a holy priest who dedicated his life to making children happy; he awarded those who practiced his religion with devout faith, and punished those by sending them to a dark abyss where they would face eternal suffering. A bit excessive, Apollo thought, but he can’t say he was surprised.
He hadn’t seen Klavier since the other day. He didn’t want to pull Klavier away from his rehearsals for later tonight. Klavier did however text him that he would be performing ‘The Guitar’s Serenade’ after the candles are lit on the hal’abad tree. It was customary for an hour sermon to be recited during the lighting, followed by up to three hours of prayer. Apollo was grateful that he wouldn’t have to participate in that; he wasn’t sure if his back can handle being in a hunched position like that for three whole hours.
He walked through the bazaar, admiring the lights and little trinkets hanging from the rafters with a carefree expression. It wasn’t often that he can enjoy something like this without thinking about a case in the back of his mind. Ever since the abolishment of the Defense Culpability Act, his office has heard no end to cases involving wrongful convictions; and while he was more than happy to right the wrongs done by a twisted government, it was nice to have some time to himself.
His eyes fell upon Nahyuta and Ema by a fruit stand. Ema had a very confused expression on her face while Nahyuta was holding up a bizarre-looking fruit with pink skin and purple splotches, all while making a gesture with his hand. Surely he was giving Ema some kind of lecture about the significance of that particular fruit, and Apollo couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle at the scene. He walked a little further and noticed Datz selling some…were those lizards? Surely not the same lizards that he had hanging in the office at some point?! Apollo couldn’t walk fast enough when he saw that Datz noticed him and egged him to come over.
When he finally made it to Tehm’pul Temple, he stared in awe at the huge hal’abad tree with what looked like thousands of candles on each branch. This seemed like a fire hazard, but who was he to question a sacred Khura’inese holiday? As he walked closer, he noticed Rayfa standing in front of the tree looking at a piece of parchment. He wondered if Rayfa also had an important part in the ceremony; it made sense, her being the royal priestess and all.
A quick glance to his left, and his gaze landed on that of Klavier Gavin, clad in his normal wear and going over some of the vocals for his song. He even had a guitar in hand. Apollo couldn’t help but think about the conversation he had with Trucy a few days ago, and he immediately felt tense. Is this how witnesses felt whenever he perceived them? It was such an uneasy feeling, and it sent a chill down his spine.
Klavier must’ve noticed him staring, for he called him over with a smile and wave. Apollo feigned a scoff and walked over.
“I’m still surprised they decided to get a foreign performer for such an important day.” Apollo commented, to which Klavier chuckled.
“Believe me when I almost refused the offer…until the queen herself asked, and well, who can say no to royalty?”
Apollo shot him a small smile. “Understandable.” His gaze drifted towards the sky, where a bunch of stars danced in the night. “…You know, we’ve known each other for a while, and while I hate to admit it…” He sighed. “…You were part of the reason for me lasting this long as an attorney. Going against you has taught me many things, and…I guess I’m saying I’m thankful.”
Klavier had a dumbfounded expression on his face for a split second, but quickly recovered. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Herr Forehead, that was entirely your doing. I just pushed you in the right direction.” He smiled. “We were both aiming towards the same truth, were we not?” He looked up at the sky as well. “Ach, I do have to say that I miss our days in the courtroom. It’s just not the same without you on the other side.”
Apollo’s heart made an involuntary leap and for a second, he thought he would faint. “Uh…r-right. And here I thought you only saw me as a naïve greenhorn who needed to be spoon-fed evidence.”
The light laugh that escaped Klavier’s throat was intoxicating. “Of course I thought that at first, but that was before I got to know you. I always wondered what kind of attorney you were, after you bested my bro in court…and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.”
“…Of what?”
Klavier looked back at Apollo. “Everything, I guess. But most of all, that determination you had to find the truth, and undying faith towards your client. Despite being your boss, you turned out to be nothing like Kristoph.”
He hated to admit it, but he was starting to feeling butterflies in his stomach. He hated it when Athena was right, especially about something like this. “…Listen, Gav—uh, Klavier…”
Klavier raised an eyebrow, and it was then that Apollo realized that this was the first time he ever referred to Klavier by his first name. And upon realizing this, it became much more difficult to form the correct words—
“Hey, Horned Head. I’m unsure of where to put this, but Nahyuta handed it to me and now I’m stuck with it. What are the customs for this in America, again?”
Apollo turned his head up behind him and saw Rayfa standing there, a blunt expression on her face...holding a bundle of mistletoe in her fingers and dangling it above where he and Klavier were sitting. He was mortified. He dared to glance at Klavier, who was merely chuckling, his chin propped up by his hand and staring at him.
“The fräulein wants to know what people do under the mistletoe. Would you like to help me show her, Herr Forehead?” Klavier smiled, and Apollo couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed hold of the front of Klavier’s shirt and pulled him in closer, giving him a forceful kiss that couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. When he pulled away, Apollo got up from his seat and stormed off, not even bothering to look back. Why did he do that?! He was such an idiot, and the worst part was he couldn’t tell which part he regretted more, the kiss or leaving right after. It wasn’t until he heard someone shouting his name that he came to a halt and turned around.
“You know it’s bad taste to leave without a word after kissing someone, ja?” Klavier panted a little. He must have ran after him shortly after what happened.
Honestly speaking, Apollo acted on impulse. It was a spur of the moment decision brought about by everyone taunting him; first Nahyuta, then Trucy and Athena…he let out a frustrated sigh as he turned his head to look back at Klavier, who was running his fingers through his hair.
“I…I just did what people normally do under mistletoe. It’s what everyone wanted of me, right?” Apollo bit out.
Klavier tilted his head with a mildly concerned expression. “I was just humoring the young fräulein—”
“What do you want from me, Gavin?” Apollo cut Klavier off.
Klavier took a step toward Apollo. “I should be the one asking you that.” Klavier reached out with the intent to rest his hand on Apollo’s shoulder, but stopped when he saw how the other man recoiled. “Is there something bothering you? Ach, did I do something to offend you in any way?” He grew more concerned by the minute. “Please talk to me.”
Apollo hesitated. His gaze darted back and forth between Klavier’s face and the hand that was ever so slightly reaching out to him. There is no turning back once he speaks the words he desperately wants to get out. But really, why would someone as famous as Klavier, the rock star prosecutor himself, even think about reciprocating his feelings? Sure he was making a name for himself in Khura’in, but back in the States he was just a defense attorney working under the legendary Phoenix Wright. Hell, Klavier witnessed Apollo’s very first cases as a defense attorney, and all the embarrassments that came with being a greenhorn.
He never could take rejection very well; his mind was already settling on the worst possible outcome before anything even happened.
“Apollo?”
Apollo was dragged out of his thoughts by Klavier’s voice, and when his eyes focused in front of him, he realized that Klavier’s face was much closer to his own than before. He could feel his own face getting hotter and hotter, despite his efforts to stop it.
“…What do you think of me, Gav…Klavier.” Apollo’s voice broke a little. “Please, I need to know.”
Klavier stared at Apollo for what felt like an eternity, before he finally answered. “Words cannot even begin to describe how I feel about you, Apollo.” His expression was somber as he glanced around at the lit candles illuminating the bazaar. “You remember when we first met?”
Apollo slowly nodded. “I could never forget that case…” Although he would be more than happy to forget about stolen panties. “Trucy noticed you standing in front of your motorcycle, waving to a bunch of your fans.” He let out a chuckle. “You were the one who made it possible for me to investigate the crime scene.”
Klavier smiled. “I probably didn’t look like it to you, but I was…suffering back then. Emotionally, and mentally.”
“…Was it because of Kristoph?” Apollo already knew the answer, but wanted confirmation.
Klavier nodded. “My bro was certainly one of a kind. But behind closed doors, he was just as manipulative and scheming as how he was in the courtroom. Every waking hour growing up with him felt like there was a noose around my neck, and he was the judge, jury, and executioner.” He let out a sigh. “And then…that case happened. Kristoph set me up to destroy Phoenix Wright’s career. I had my suspicions of course, but with all my heart I really wanted to believe that there was no way my own brother could do something that cruel. And then you came along and pulled the covers from my eyes. And thanks to you, I was finally able to confront Klavier on equal footing; I was no longer afraid of him.”
Apollo didn’t know what to say, but Klavier continued. “What I’m trying to say is that, in a way, you saved me back then. Without you there to accuse Kristoph and bring him into the courtroom once more, I don’t think I would have ever been able to face my demons.” Klavier looked at Apollo and smiled. “You mean a lot to me, Apollo…more than I’m sure you can even begin to imagine.”
A small breath escaped Apollo’s mouth as he was rendered speechless.
(C’mon, say something, damnit!)
“I would like to know what you think of me, too…if that’s alright.” Klavier asked thoughtfully. He just gave Apollo an opening, one that he decided to take.
Apollo let out a breath of air. “…If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I ever would have made it this far as an attorney.”
Klavier was about to say something, but Apollo held a hand up to stop him. “Before you tell me how that’s not true, just listen for a second. I was a novice, my former boss was sent to prison on murder charges…I had nowhere to go until the Wright Anything Agency phoned me. And the last thing I expected was to be immediately thrust into investigating a murder from stolen noodle carts and panties.”
Klavier chuckled, which Apollo responded with a chuckle of his own. “…Was it your intention to give me all those hints? When we were in court, it felt like you were guiding me along to finding the answer…I might have gotten a Not Guilty verdict, but at the time, it still didn’t feel like a victory to me.”
“I’m sure you’re already well-aware of this, Apollo, but the most important thing for me was to find the truth…it wasn’t about winning or losing, or a personal battle between attorney and prosecutor. And as a rookie defense attorney, I was positive that you probably wouldn’t have understood that.” Klavier explained, to which Apollo nodded.
“You were right, of course.” Apollo glanced away. “Back then, I didn’t know what it meant to find the truth. I didn’t know what it meant for an attorney to be working together with a prosecutor and share evidence. But you helped me see that the way I was brought up was wrong.” He hesitated to bring up the next thoughts on his mind, but it was now or never. He had to do it.
“…I-I know I always acted like you were the most annoying person on the planet, but I want you to know that I never thought of you in that way.”
(Breathe, Apollo. You can do this.)
When his eyes met Klavier’s, he saw the light shining from the candles reflect on Klavier’s pupils. It was beautiful.
“You mean a lot to me, more than you probably realize.”
Klavier smiled. “You repeated what I told you—”
“I’m not finished.” Apollo bit his lip, and stepped closer to Klavier until they were mere inches apart. Klavier’s eyes widened, but Apollo paid no mind as he stood on his toes and pressed his lips softly onto Klavier’s. It didn’t last long, but he just wanted to get the message across.
You…mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize.”
Klavier just stared at Apollo with his mouth slightly agape, before he finally snapped out of it.
“Apollo…how long?”
Apollo shook his head. “Honestly, I probably couldn’t tell you that. But if I had to guess, it probably started developing around the time you invited Trucy and I to your concert.”
“And you never told me?”
Apollo grew frustrated once more. “It’s not that easy, okay?! For someone like you who has people confessing their love to you on a daily basis, maybe. But for someone like me…”
Klavier watched quietly as Apollo tried to stop his body from shaking. When a few minutes had passed, Klavier took the opportunity to pull Apollo in closer. Apollo’s eyes widened.
“Those people who you say confess their love for me? They’re just fans. They probably say the same thing to their other favorite celebrities. Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend.” Klavier smiled as Apollo huffed.
“I don’t believe it. Not even when you were starting out as a rock star?”
Klavier shook his head. “Kind of hard to trust people, you know? Are they dating me because they love me, or are they dating me because I’m famous? Trust is one of the most important factors in a relationship…to me, anyway.”
Apollo looked down. “I see…”
He felt a slight pressure on the top of his head; it took him a moment to realize that Klavier had kissed his head very softly.
“I trust you, Apollo.”
“…What are you saying?” Apollo glanced back up at Klavier, who tilted his head and smiled.
“I’m saying that I feel the same way about you…if you’ll have me.”
Apollo didn’t hear anything else; didn’t see anything else. All of his focus was on Klavier. He wasted no time pulling the other man in and kissing him under the candlelight, just as the snow was beginning to fall once more.
.
.
.
“Happi’raki Khu’khurist!”
A chorus of shouts and cheers as the people of Khura’in witnessed the lighting of the hal’abad tree, welcoming Christmas with open arms and many prayers. The concert was a big hit, with many of the younger citizens practically begging Klavier to visit again, which he was more than happy to oblige…although it was probably mostly due to his new boyfriend being the revolutionary defense attorney in this country.
Rayfa was overseeing the festival of prayers, where everyone knelt down in prayer for hours on end until the candles on the hal’abad tree burn out. It was mildly amusing seeing how serious Rayfa was while looking over everyone, but every now and then she would glance at the children with their parents enjoying themselves and huff. Apollo decided maybe he’ll buy her a festive pastry later.
Nahyuta was helping Rayfa with her duties whenever possible, but for the most part he was done with the festivities and decided to go back to Justice Law Office to rest up. He wasn’t alone, however, as Ema, Ahlbi, and Datz were also enjoying themselves in the warmth of the office. Didn’t Khura’inists enjoy the cold? Or maybe they were just enjoying each other’s company, which Apollo thought was far more plausible.
All in all, the festival was a success. His first Christmas in Khura’in…Apollo now had more memories to share with Trucy and Athena, and everyone else back home in the States. And of course, more memories to come with Klavier.
“So just out of curiosity, Herr Forehead…what did you REALLY think of me when you first saw me up on stage…?”
“OBJECTION! No comment.”
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razorsadness · 4 years
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Weird times. I mean, in general, weird times, but things have been even weirder & worse in my household for the past couple weeks.
Like, I had this really awful Sinus Thing, for a few days the week before last I was in so much pain from it that I could barely function. Even though I never had a fever or shortness of breath, and my exposure risk is relatively low, I thought it would be prudent to get a CoViD test. It was negative, thankfully, but I still didn’t have answers as to what was going on with me. I started feeling mostly better last weekend, but I had a telehealth visit with my doctor on Monday and he thinks it was something called allergic rhinitis. It’s basically where your allergies are so bad that you experience the symptoms of a sinus infection without the actual infection.
Also that week we found out my partner’s mom was in the hospital, because she hadn’t been eating or drinking water, had a UTI, and all this other stuff, and it turns out she has a large tumor in her midsection. They can’t operate because she’s too frail, so they’re just getting her back home and getting her in-home hospice care to try and make her final weeks as comfortable as possible. It seems like she’s been in decline for a long time. I know she’s been depressed since leaving her house in California where she’d lived her entire adult life, and after she moved to Texas (which is where P.’s three other brothers live) she was lying to her family, saying she was feeling okay and taking care of herself when she really wasn’t. And then her family couldn’t even visit her for a while because of the pandemic, so she declined even further and got even more depressed. She’s 94, so it’s not tragic, but it is still sad. P. left Tuesday morning to go see her one last time. And I hate this. I hate that he had to travel alone because of the pandemic, I hate that I can’t see her again (she’s the only member of my partner’s family I’ve ever felt a connection with; the rest of them are nice to me but are so deeply Republican that I can’t even relax around them). I hate that he had to travel during a pandemic. I know that he’s taking as many precautions as he can, and he’s going to get tested when he gets home, but it’s all just very scary and awful.
Last Saturday our power went out due to an equipment failure in our area. I almost had a nervous breakdown, because I didn’t know how long it would be out and I was afraid our food would go bad and the last thing we needed on top of everything else was to have to rebuy weeks worth of food. Fortunately, the power was only off for two hours, and we didn’t open the fridge or freezers during that time, so all our food was fine.
I’ve seen an uptick in transphobia lately, both online and IRL. Online it’s just been all this shit from TERFs & their “allies,” the Trans Exclusionary Homosexual Males (aka TEHMs), and then over the weekend I was walking around my neighborhood and two randos in a passing car slowed down and started shouting about/to me. They called me It and said It’s so ugly, it hurts my eyes. I didn’t even think I looked particularly nonbinary that day, but I guess some people still clock me as queer/GNC and hate me for it. Honestly, I can deal with the hatred of a couple random dudes much better than I can deal with the stuff I’ve been reading online. Cuz it’s reminding me of other times in my life when I’ve experienced transphobia directly or indirectly, from people who I never expected it from, other people in the LGBQ+ community. And I just...I’m tired. I’m sad. My gender doesn’t feel at odds with my body, most days. (I still experience dysphoria, but not as often as I did when I was younger). But it hurts when I’m reminded that so many people will never see or accept me for who I really am.
Speaking of gender–I cut my ‘hawk off on Tuesday, so I now have hella short hair with the fringe of bangs and “sideburns,” pseudo-Chelsea fringe style. And in the days since, I’ve found myself wearing more makeup, dresses or at least “feminine” tops, big earrings, etc. I realized this has been my m.o. for years–I present increasingly more femme the shorter my hair gets. Not every day or anything, I just feel more comfortable presenting femme when I have hella short hair.
Other things:
D. is depressed. He says he’s just bored but I can tell by the way he’s acting that he’s depressed. This pandemic/quarantine/change in routine has been hard on all kids, but I think it’s been extra hard on kids like D. He’s autistic, and therefore has an even harder time dealing with changes in routine, for one. For two, he has a hard time communicating what he’s feeling, so he just mopes around and hides in his bed. I don’t know what to do. Earlier on in the quarantine, he was more responsive to my attempts to draw him out with fun projects, etc. Now he doesn’t even want to do the things he used to enjoy, half the time. I’m thinking about getting him an inexpensive digital camera, and trying to get him into photography. That might get him engaged with the world and his surroundings, make him see that there’s still interesting stuff to be found, even in his own neighborhood and backyard.
C. isn’t depressed. He’s too little to really remember the before-time. He knows that things are different, and sometimes does get frustrated because we can’t go to the library or the zoo, and he can’t go to the grocery store with Daddy, but he’s never been to school or summer camp or anything like that, so staying at home with Mom all day seems normal. Also, he’s little enough that a walk around the block is like an epic adventure, for him. He hugs trees and collects rocks and sticks and gets really excited whenever he sees a dog or a bunny or a squirrel or a bird. Sadly, C.’s enthusiasm doesn’t seem to help D., and in fact seems to annoy him sometimes. The happier and more excited C. is, the grumpier D. gets. I just keep hugging D. and telling him I love him, and that I know things are weird and hard right now, but that there’s still a lot we can do and enjoy.
(As a note: I wrote the above paragraphs a few days ago, and D. has been doing better in the days since, of which I’m glad.)
On Monday, we had to take a couple long drives to and from the Subaru dealership to get P.’s car serviced before he left for Texas. We got to drive on the freeway, even; it was the first time I’d been on the freeway and the longest drive I’d taken since the pandemic started. It did me good. I like driving, it calms me, and just seeing some different scenery was good. And while we waited for P. to drop the car off and tell them what needed to be done, the kids and I wandered around out next to the dealership, in the vacant lots and scrubby fields. C. said: “Wow! I love it here! It’s so beautiful!” And I thought: “He thinks a vacant lot and a scrubby field is beautiful? Yeah, he’s my kid for sure.”
The early part of last week, I ate too much greasy, junky food, and my digestive system rebelled. Since then, I’ve been trying to eat a lot of salads and whole grains to make up for it.
I’m menstruating, have been crampy and weepy for the past several days. I cried over an episode of Poetry in America about Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art.” I’ve been reading a lot about prisons and prison abolition, and crying about that. I want to get seriously involved in prison abolition. It’s something I’ve always theoretically believed in, but now feels like the time when I have to do something about it.
I’m trying not to catastrophize about everything that could happen to P. while he’s gone. It’s hard. My brain automatically goes to the worst case scenario in any given situation. So every time I go there, I try and take a deep breath, and remind myself that the worst case scenario is no more realistic or likely to occur than any other scenario, and that P. is safe. But I’m also trying to be gentle with myself, just in general. This is something I have been learning throughout this pandemic/quarantine. Some days I’m very productive and get tons of press work and writing and other stuff done, but other days I’m too anxious and sad. I have long had a tendency to be hard on myself for not doing as much as I think I should do on any given day (spoiler alert: nothing I do is ever enough), and what happens then is I end up getting so stressed out and angry with myself that I then snap at my kids, and then I feel awful. I don’t want to take my frustration with myself out on them. So I’m actively trying to be gentle with them and myself. On days when I feel too anxious and sad to do much of anything, I just do what absolutely has to get done, and then I spend the rest of the day playing with the kiddos, reading a book, watching a movie, stuff like that.
The writing workshop I’m in is fantastic. I’m a bit behind because of everything that’s come up the past couple weeks, but it’s a pretty laid-back (virtual) environment, and in general I’m experimenting with new things and gaining new inspirations, so it’s a win.
And Wisconsin Death Trip is getting closer and closer to its release date. I’m having just as many feelings about putting this one out into the world as I did about The Loneliest Show On Earth. Both of them contain things I have been trying to say for years and years.
Several nights ago, I had a sad dream. Well, no. The dream was sweet. It was sad when I woke up and realized it was a dream. In it, I saw an ex-lover of mine, and we made out a bunch. I miss him, I miss making out, but that wasn’t really the saddest part. What was sad was that in a different part of the dream, I was sitting with him and some other friends on a stoop in Milwaukee, and we were all eating ice cream, and other friends kept walking by and running up to hug us. To just be able to sit close to friends, to hug friends. I miss that more than almost anything about the before-times. I want it back.
We’ve been taking lots of neighborhood walks, the kids and I. That’s one of the only ways we can get out of the house this horrible spring/summer. And I’m still so, so glad we moved to this neighborhood two years ago. That neighbor I heard blasting the Ramones the other week, I’ve since heard him playing Johnny Cash. He’s got a big beard, looks kind of grizzled but is super nice. He’s got a rescue pitbull, in his backyard he has a veggie garden and raises ducks, and he restores old trucks. The other neighbor I heard blasting Aretha Franklin, I’ve since heard him playing Charles Mingus. He’s an older black gentleman, and I often wave to him when I see him out in his front yard tending to his flowers. I think I’ve mentioned before, but we live in one of the most diverse neighborhoods in our town, which for a heavily segregated part of the country is  meaningful. And the other day I noticed that about 1/3 of the houses in the neighborhood have either Black Lives Matter signs, pride flags, or one of those “In This House, We Believe...” signs in their front yards. (And I’m sure there are others, like us, who would like to put a sign like that in their yard, but are renters and therefore can’t). It’s just nice. After years living in major cities, suddenly moving not just back to a smaller town but to suburban/white-bread/conservative neighborhoods was weird, and I’m glad I live where I do now.
Some things I’ve noticed about having P. gone: I have the A/C on less and the windows open more. I have the TV on less. I drink less alcohol. (Not saying he drives me to drink, not at all; but he enjoys booze as much as I do, so when we’re drinking together we tend to unconsciously match each other drink-for-drink.) I drink more coffee, because there’s no one to share the pot with. I miss the coffee being ready when I wake up. It’s weird to have him gone. Throughout our nearly eleven years of living together, I have been the one that has done most of the traveling (whether alone, or with the kid(s)), so it’s not the being away from him that’s weird so much as being the one left at home. I miss him. But it’s good to miss him. Because in any of my previous long-term, cohabiting relationships, if they were away, or I was...I usually just felt this overwhelming sense of dread about them returning home or me returning home. That’s how I know that, despite any issues we have, I still want to be with P. When I’m away, as much as I might enjoy my travels, I’m excited to return home; and when he’s away, I can’t wait for him to return.
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knightofbalance-13 · 7 years
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http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/159724441860/jaune-critical
Yeah, critical. And I’m jesus.
I do not hate Taiyang Xiao Long to the point where I want him to die. Get some consequences for his insensitive comments, yes. But I do not want him to die
This si an example of Dudeblade’s overall problem: He picks and chooses who he has a problem with when other characters should be getting the shaft. In this instance, due to her insensitive comments being intentional, her constant abandonment of her family and mistreatment of them, Raven Brawnen should be getting the shaft here, not Taiyang.
I do not hate Sun Wukong to the point where I want him to die. Get injured or face consequences for constantly bothering Blake, yes. But I do not want him to die. And he did get consequences (to an extent) for constantly bothering Blake.
In this instance, since she was being twice as ivasive, contributed less to the story and sides with Sun, Kali should be getting the shaft as well, especiallyas Sun was constantly saving or helping Bake and without him she woud have been found by the WHite Fang. Yet she is ignored.
Can’t say the same thing about Jaun/e Ar/c though.
Yes and why is that? Because you have already explained this in another post of yours in which you said Jaune needed to die because he got into Beacon and didn’t pick up on Weiss’ signals despite Pyrrha fitting most of these qualifications to eve better degree than Jaune?
It’s pretty obvious by this point that if the character is straight, white and male you will demonize them because unless they’re a paragon and even then you will just attack the writers.
SO let’s go through and see just how faulty your arguments are.
I can’t exactly handle jau/ne. He’s a selfish jerk.
If that was a qualification for your hate and dedicating hate posts as this is self proclaimed, then by your own logic Raven Branwen should be getting more hate as Jaune has done selfless things in the past (Such as helping Neptune wow Weiss, Jaune giving support to Pyrrha when she was struggling to become the Fall Maiden, Not throwning sap onto Pyrrha despite that costing him his dreams nearly and even giving up his sadness and strength he gained in Volume 4 so he can direct it all to Ruby and improve her as a character.) While Raven has not done one selfless thing besides her rule and abandoned her daughter and lover to lead a tribe that her own twin calls out, marudes villages for supplies then leaves them to die by Grimm hands and never once takes the guilt for it and dooms the world to Salem because her brother called her out on being a shitty parent towards a child she does not care about. And yet Raven gets away with it while you’re here hating on Jaune.
mean, what would happen if any other character were to do what ja/une did? - Y’know, smelting his dead girlfriend’s stuff to give himself an upgrade. I bet that they’d be called out on their actions.
There was a theory about Blake having taken Yang’s Emebr Celica and running away with it as a memento. The problem here is that Yang is not dead, the Ember Celica is unique and Blake abandoned her, all of which does not apply to Jaune. But no one called out that theory, not even the writers, and here you are.
And that’s even getting into��Ren and his dad’s knife or the fact that Ruby’s attire is based off her dead mom’s. Remnant would be a logical place where mixing the weapons and attire of the dead into your own as a way of keeping them alive through you. You also called Pyrrha his girlfriend and never once mentioned that Croces More was his family heirloom meaning Pyrrha lives on so long as an Arc does and makes Pyrrha permeant family member.
Apparently, he can do this however he wants.
Which is why Jaune gets called out on his behavior (like Ruby did in Volume 1) or he calls himself out (like he did in Kuroyuri in Episode 10). This doesn’t really work.
I bet if Ruby wanted to take a bit of Penny to integrate into her outfit and/or weapon, her creator would be all “No bitch.” and shove her out of the office where she would likely have requested it.
... She did though. Looking at her Volume 4 outfit, Ruby took clear inspiration from Penny with her undershit being very similar to Penny’s with the collar looking identical in shape to Penny’s as well as her dress/corset mealding with her under shirt just as Penny did. Ruby obvious DID incoperate Penny into her outfit... This took me two minutes to research. There is no excuse for this.
Why is he the strategist again? - I mean, Ruby was actually shown to be a strategist, and had good plans.
You’re right, he’s not the strategist: He’s the tactician. The difference between a strategy and a tactic is the difference between what and how: What the goal is and how it is achieved. Ruby is the strategist in that she found the Grimm and knows they must defeat it, Jaune is the tactician in that he finds the way. Going back to Volume 1, ruby new they couldn’t run from the Grimm so they decided to fight and Jaune figured out the simplest and safest way to kill his Grimm (use the sting and Nora’s hammer). While Ruby did so for her Grimm, her way put herself in a lot more danger than anyone in Jaune’s plan. Jaune is not a good leader but he’s good at directing people and supporting the, AKA he’s a support character which he was delegated to this Volume.
DBZA Goku’s plans would probably be better than Jaune’s. If he was set up to be the strategist, then his ‘strategies’ should be treated seriously.
1. Goku is implied to eb the source of his son Gohan’s intelligence, not Chi CHi so you just complimented Jaune.
2. You mean like “Circe it” where before they did that everyone was getting their asses handed to them then when they did The Nuckelveee started having a lot of trouble.
Comparing Jaune to Sokka from A:tlA is an insult to Sokka. Jaune is no strategist. If her were, then he’d say, “Destroy that thing’s body, and stop its escape when we finish the first part!”
You mean like this? https://youtu.be/IZKpkzPIRlw?t=11m35s A literal second after what you reference. So only initial plans are allowed okay: Sokka's initial plan for escaping the steam jail was “to fly” that’s it. He said more afterward but since you disallowed that from jaune, I’m just being fair.
Also, “Run around in circles”? that’s the best tactic you could come up with? - We all know that this was an excuse for miles to show off his favorite character’s new sword mode.
That;s becausde the Nucklevee at the time focused onto a single point to attack. the only one of tehm who ever got any hits in wwas Ren who was doing exacty that so Jaune was simply using observation.
Also that sword mode was kind of useless. All it really ddi was get Jaune bitch slapped, not mention that Ruby was able to pin down her her singe handedly while Jaune need Ren to hold his down so Jaune’s not getting any special treatment.
He’s also the only one to be mourning Pyrrha.
STOP!
*Screeches the train to a halt*
What the hell are you talking about? Ruby is also mourning Pyrrha, she clearly shows it in both Episode 2 and in episode 10! And in episode 10, Jaune directly says the only reason he has gotten stronger is because of Ruby and even brushes off his own sadness to make Ruby look better! That’s an outright lie!
Yes I wished Ren and Nora would have mourned her as well but considering the fact that they were dealing with the monster that destroyed their village and killed Ren’s parents, I think that’s a bit more to angst about then one person you knew for a year. Yeah one is sad but I think a longer standing wound that cuts deeper warrents more attention!
And heres the thing, you don’t consider the fact that the show doesn’t have enough time, that there isn’t enough t show them mourning properly because tehre’s already so much to focus on even without that. And don’ts at cut Jaune’s screentime because he’s the only logical catalyst for Ruby and I don’t think 5:52 minutes will mean jackshit to the narrative.
In comparison to Ruby (A character who has lost her mother and friend), Ren (A character who has lost his entire village), or Nora (A character who lost her near everything) this comes off as incredibly insensitive.
Okay, 1. That does not woek here: Everyone is entitled to their own sorrows. You know, that quote from the beginning fo the fucking White Trailer.
2. You have called em out for apparently saying Yang isn’t allowed to angst because taiyang has it harder but now Jaune isn’t? Pretty fucking hypocritical.
3. Jaune beat you to the punch and unlike you, he acknowledges Ruby’s strength as well. Jaune has done a better job at his own criticism than you have.
He’s also the only character to get angry at Qrow. And for some reason, Ruby decides to not come to her Uncle’s defense.
Jaune si the only reason to get angry at Qrow here because Ren and Nora never saw what the Maiden thing was doing to Pyrrha and how they were pressuring her and Ruby is social awkward meaning she doesn’t have the tools to do anything but just try to grasp why the person she trusted so much is hiding so much from her. In that scene, the way Jaune is talking indicates that he is being overly hostile meaning Jaune is not treated as in the right there either. They’re both wrong and they both deserve a narrative boot to the back.
However, in the fight with Tyrian, Jaune clenches his eyes and tries to look away when Ruby is about to be beaten. But then Qrow shows up, and saves her. Jau/ne did nothing, and Qrow did everything.
Okay, 1. What could Jaune do? Nora Ren and especially Ruby got their asses handed to them and are better fighters than him. Do you want Jaune to jump in and attack Tyrian, because this either results in A. Tyrian killing jaune and now ruby ahs THAT on her mind so expect suicide. B. Jauen fails and Ruby dies because Jaune got in the way or C. They both die. That is the only options and Jaune probably knows this and feels helpless. Also, he’s the god damn audience surrogate: Just as we’re helpless, so Jaune.
2. Qrow is a god damn Grimm magnet due to his Semblance and all the wonderful angst that brings. I wouldn’t be surprised in 70% of the Grimm that attacked them where after Qrow and decided the teens looked tasier.
3. You are not allowed to call anyone oyt for being ungrateful. Yang is allowed to insult and belittle her father;s pain and you accept that, despite him taking care of her for eighteen years. You are not allowed to play that card.
Why does he get to save Qrow? - To show that he can put aside his grudges? Strategically speaking, Ruby would have been a better choice to save him. She has super speed for crying out loud!
No, it’s to show that Jaune has let go of his grudge against Qrow and is finally and truly moving forward for the sake of his friends. Just as well: Jaune is the weakest link in the group. Ruby can act as a temporary tactician in his place and he isn’t very strong so they won’t be losing much to save Qrow and repay their debut to him.
Why is Tyrian interested in Jau/ne? It just feels as if Jau/ne is being a black hole of attention right now.
... That’s nota  good thing. It’s the equvilant of Freddy Krueger making kissy face at you: It’s meant to freak you out and scare you because their psychotic. Just as well, the purpose of the scene is intensified by the fact that Jaune is the audience surrogate so this is meant to subconsciously freak you out more. Not to mention the fact that this isn’t addressed ever again and it=s treated more as a Big Lipped Alligator Moment.
Ps. Considering how everyone is bending to Yang in your fanfic, you are not allowed to make Black Hole sue jokes.
It’s just really hard to not see Jaune as miles’ self-insert at this point. I mean, if Ren or Nora were the ones bemoaning the senseless loss of life, we would eventually know why. And it would carry much more weight to it.
No, it wouldn't. Because that’s us. Everything Jaune has said this volume has been a reflection of us.
Him struggling to move forward?
Becoming more cynical?
Weary at the loss of life?
Attributing their strength to Ruby?
Anger at Qrow for Pyrrha?
This is all stuff I saw in the fandom and in the fanbase. Jaune is just doing what eh was made to do and reflect the viewer. I think that says a lot of about you, Dudeblade.
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lunosamentelunitoo · 8 years
Text
Gintama 629 spoilers
TITLE: Logic is really important in detective stories”
Sonroshi: So you are Hirata Genkai, I can’t believe i am getting to know the one guy, that helped the humans to archieve the defeat of the liberation army that way, the fact is that is quite surprising that the person we looked for in all galaxy that was able to sink such fleet in just one day and restore it back is someone like you
Genkai: Hey you old jeez, i don’t have any paper to wipe my ass, do you want to wipe it?? I only helped to kick the liberation army’s butt, aren’t you guys courious to see how they are doing where are they now?
Sonroshi: We are not interested to the situation in the main stroghold, they understimated the enemy, and we are not interested to fight alongside those idiots. If we stay with them we will be intossicated by their poison and our limb would rot and fall. But us, will by no means look down to you, It was on this planet that our compatriot.. the king of the yato was... Rearranging the army and defeat you will come later... But now.. genkai you have to stop that nanomachines.
Toshi; Big trouble!! THe old genkai!! Genkai fell in enemies’ hands...
Tsukuyo: eh? What do you want??
Toshi: No.. nothing
Matsudaira: Good job, thanks for providing us the enemies’ movments for all this time. Even if it’s night, such quiet is so weird, this is a good time for that party to cool their heard after all this heat. Watching without moving.. Keep their breath, they sure will come somehow, but we are waiting for them. We will rpvide tehm a bonus stage, how much it will last? But a little of rest will be good for us too.
Soyo: I can’t sleep, you too Nobume san?
Nobume: My injuries are keeping me up, i really can’t rest. But at least in this way I can keep watch over you princess and made you sleep without worries.
Soyo: I am so sorry, I ididn’t realized that, but I am ok, the one that should rest it’s you Nobume san.
Nobume: If the peincess will fall i asleep I will fall...ZZZ
Soyo: Well, you already sleeping Nobume san, I am sorry, you should be really tired, while I am getting more wake up.. When it comes to watcho over we can leave all to the yorozuya, and with such of a bodyguard we are just ok, he is looking over my bed now, so you can sleep Nobume san.... It’s ok!! Please don’t give him that kind of rest!!
Nobume: Awww.. it feels so goodz...
Soyo: I am sorry Nobume san, but I don’t knpw how to do tsukkomi on this... but this really feels so good. if we sleep near to this... That remind me.. we already did something like that. I was so selfish and couldn’t sleep alone, so i slept with all of you. Who could image that a night like that would come then.. A really lonley night.
Nobume: Princess, you two siblings, opened those eyes, we are Hitotsubashi’s faction, No one of us is useless, Shige shige sama.. me... I really have now the quaifications to be by your side.
Soyo:... This night we can have a proper sleep after a long time,from that time , i always have a good bodyguard next to me, i am not able to understand difficult things, but i know who was protecting us for all this time. Isn’t that good Nobume san? You know my pain and I know yours, Isn’t that a good reason to spend the night together? Isnt’t that enough? So let’s go throught this night togetherz...
Nobume: Princess, I don’t knoew how to tsukkomi too... WHAT!! A radio? Did someone of the guards put this radio here??
Dude: A..an... answear
Soyo:  A communication? Weren’t all the communications in Edo down, cause all the machine were stopped?? And then.. this voice..
Dude: Someone.. there is some one? answer..
Soyo: Yes!
Dude: Rogetr that! You are...?
Soyo: I am Shigeshige’s sister, Nobunobu sama is that you?
Dude: It.. it’s back!! Communications with earth are back!! Form the analysuis it results that the nanomachines didn’t destroy all the machines! The collegues from the tech group prob thought of some means to contrast the effects in such a short time... maybe taking the central sistem that is being affected is taken in a different place..
Enshou: That makes me so happy!! I don’t care how!! Nothing is settled donw yet, Wwe can’t still get near that planet!! The grop letf behind is still in danger!  Soon check the situation on earth and then decide how to move!!
Dude: Yes!
Toshi: What? communications are back? Is that possible? That the enemy got it from Genkai?  I can’t believe it, that gives to our enemies more weapons and chance of victory! Soon!! Doesn’t matter how !! Let’s go to search for Genkai, and take him away from the enemies!!
Gintoki: Calm down you idiots, ther eis no change that the old man told something to the enemy, the granpa is not like that. He is surely silent and cold now
Shinpachi; Do you mean he is dead???
Gin: I told it’s ok! His sense of community is hight both in space than in the underworld.
Shinpachi: So that means he is dead???
Gin: SO first of all, we should take some Heparize, prepare some vomit bag and go to sleep. God, all this shaking is making me feel sick gorgorgorgoro...
Shinpachi: Kyahahahaha!!!
Toshi: Oi!! you bastard why did you drank until to feel so sick during war!!
Gin: ‘Cause I thought that i saved before to face the last boss! I thought I had recover all my HP!!
Yamazaki: Oi please, wake up...
Gin: But I fell into a pond of poison as i woke up... and instead to recover HP the screen became green.
Toshi: Real life doesn’t have save points! n life every progress hurts! And the damage zone is really wide!
Gin: And the fact that the old man is been took by the enemy is a proof.
Okita: Somehow he left a trace made of shit... where he is been caught he didn’t had paper and could not move...
Gin: Of course, that is such a proper way to die too, old man!
Okita: On the place there are still some remains of poop left, this is a proof that he didnt wiped his ass. SO the remains left on his ass is leading us
Gin: Somehow this makes so much sense... Did you called the old man by name? Did you put him on shame?
Shinpachi: SO do you really think that that was a way for Genkai to leave some trace?
Okita: His hands were cuffed, Somehow we been invested in luck!
Shinpachi: Okita san... actually we got invested in shit
Okita: Look there!
Shinpachi: The poop is keeping going..
Okita: While he was kidnapped by the enemies he showed his position to us. He didn0t had nothing with him, so he left this mark.
Shinpachi What kind of Hansel and Gretel is that??
Okita: If we follow that we can reach Genkai!
Toshi: Oi Sougo! Did you just called the old man by name? is that good??
Gin: What if that is just poop by a really big dog?
Shin: Other than that, isn’t all of this against every conventions?
Toshi: Is even possible for a single human being to poop tht much?
Okita: Probaly not in a normal situation, but now he is in danger...
Kondo: It was so long i didn’t meet that person and I drunk too much, to think it was prune’s juice... Anyway.. it doesn’t matter in how deep the forest where i am is, I knew you will surely found that out.. can you go to bu me some pants?
Okita: So it asn’t a poop trail
Toshi: Well it was a gorilla trail. There, there was no human, understand??
Shin: Well that was your general gorilla trail! Are you ok with that???
Gin: I thought from the start that he was running in strage way... but he was going headed from us just to wash his pants.
Toshi: Forget all of that!!
Gin: I wanted to.. but that made me feel sick again
Shin: What do we do now? We have no clue left.
Toshi: look there
Shin: Blood? that means...
Toshi: Maybe that is a trail left by Genkai.
Shin: That means that Genkai san is...
Toshi: I don’t know. ut this is a race against time for sure!
Okita: Hijikata san, call for some gopchang
Toshi: Why I should be the only one to call for intestines?? I want to call for the old man too
Shin: Look! the amount of blood is getting bigger!!
Toshi: That’s bad! move!!
Zenzou: I drank too much and my hemorrhoids exploded. But I knew that you would notice that... please move, put that into my ass...
Toshi: Oi! That’s all cause your drinking party!! You all have some leak, manly from your lover body!
Gin: Don’t deceive things with tsukkomi! Move! use some logic and pull out the intestines!
TOshi: So Okita should pull out the old man tho!
Okita: I am sorry Hijikata san, but my granpa died a really long time ago, so die now Hijikata san
 Toshi: What logic is that?? You have no qualifications to tell mistery stories!!
Shin: Hey!! Are things to say in this situations!!
Toshi: If every one is abl to use communication of us is over!!
Kagura: It’s here
Shin: Kagura chan?
Okita: Do you know what it’s happening?
Kagura: It’s only my intuition, but I trust it.. a night like that yato become hunters
Enshou: Sonroshi, from Daikini to Shinra I collected the stronger, but in the end only the yato are left. Is that the man?
Sonroshi: Yes, he still have ears and mounth , but the only thing that we really need it’s his head and skills. As we will lead him to torture he will beg let us know where his companions are.
Genkai: SO you are the liberation army’s boss? happy to talk with you
Enshou: Yeah, where is the thing that is blocking all battleships. arms and communications?
Genkai: well, communications seems to be back. Prob you were once worshipped, you look to have such sweet establishment. A for the nanomachines they can be stopped only by the bees. And I can’t grant your wishes to come near earth cause I don’t know a way to stop them too
Enshou: Is that so? As I though, That means that weliberation army can’t be stopped too earthling. we, the altana liberation army, got this from the Tendoshu collecting it from various stars in order to release it against the one that will refuse this holy war, so if you don’t want to grant our wish and fight with us, the best thing will be to reduce to dust all the life in the entire universe.
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