#notthescarecrow

[loccentchoi]

i know you'll never be back but I hope you're in a good place. I love you and I miss you. It's kind of poetic that the last thing we wrote about Jonathan and Tendo was about reunion. It implies their happily ever after. I'll always look back fondly on this time and wish you all the best.

This made me cry to find in my asks. I share every sentiment.

[feathercorp]

☠

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

[Being hateful. Vague-blogging about other roleplayers in a hateful manner. Talking shit like ‘if you’re x/y/z, unfollow me right now lmao’ (your request is an order for me, princess). Picking baby-fights.]

[loccentchoi]

notthescarecrow

“I’ve been here for a week,” he said, raising a brow in deepest concern. “Or, I’ve been trying to break through properly for about a week. Do you know how far away this universe is from the one I came from?” And then there was a mad glint in the other’s eye, like he’d stumbled upon some wisdom and it had driven him positively mad. “But I figured it out eventually. How to connect by hopping through other universes first.” Clearly, the idea excited him - it was the first real improvement he’d had in his control over this so-called gift. Yet his knees wobbled where he stood grinning triumphantly - his victory had taken its toll on his too-fragile human form.

Three coffee cups shatter. The bagel drops from his mouth. Tendo Choi is momentarily floored; speechless. He swallows. The corners of his eyes crinkle and a smile breaks over his face like dawn breaking; lighting a grey desolation with vibrant life. “Oh, God,” he whispers, a little shake in his voice. A pang of fear----is he imagining this? Has he finally snapped in his desire to see his partner again?  “Far away?” He repeats, distant himself, shock a potential factor in his current mental state. Thoughtful ( HOPEFUL ) brown eyes, tight with weariness and worry, examine the other man, scrutinizing him for another long moment. “You figured it out.” Another breathless echo of Jonathan’s words. Uncomprehending, Tendo takes a tentative step forward, heedless of the shards of mug and puddles of cooling liquid, and then another two. He’s had this stupid dream too many times before. But . . . always, he hopes.  He extended a hand, wrapped with worn rosary beads and marked with faded ink, fingers questing. The taller man’s chest is mercifully solid and his hand ghosts over Jonathan’s heart. Tendo exhaled, not even realizing that he’d been holding his breath. In the space of a heartbeat, he is enveloping Jonathan in a hug that shudders with emotion; every fiber of his being exclaiming in exaltation at Jonathan’s return. Words fail him, so he just clings to Jonathan, little shudders of emotion running through him. 

[loccentchoi]

Tendo: This year, I lost my dear partner Jonathan.

Jonathan: [in the distance] Quit telling everyone I’m dead!

Tendo: Sometimes, I can still hear his voice.

[loccentchoi]

okay but tendo finding that jonathan’s smell no longer clings to any of his things tendo feeling like he imagined jonathan and going through pictures to reaffirm that yes, he did exist, yes, he does exist, and yes, he’s going to come back he probably reads anything jonathan’s written him, even grocery lists or scribbled phone numbers on the back of receipts he plays really sappy acoustic songs that he’s written and will never share with anyone not even jonathan because they’re really really really emotionally trashy tendo having days where seeing anything that belonged to jonathan is tantamount to aggressively touching an open wound he should be able to sleep, but all he can think about is the empty space in the bed next to him sometimes he’ll enter the kitchen half-expecting to see jonathan making himself a cup of coffee. he doesn’t know why he still gets his hopes up, but every once in a while his stomach will soar and then drop like an acme anvil.  he texts jonathan regularly, but most of them don’t ever even make it through. if they do, nothing comes back. but just--to make sure jonathan knows he’s thinking of him. still there.  what if. . .   what if. . .  the question makes him sick. sometimes he can’t get it out of his head. what if something happened to jonathan? what if he doesn’t come back? what if he never hears from him again?  sometimes he worries that he’s regressing, getting worse, falling into bad patterns.  he feels guilty for feeling angry at jonathan, because he knows that the other can’t help it, can’t change anything, but it’s so fucking hard.  some weeks are better than others. he sees newt. he seeks hermann out. he makes sure to do some speaking at local colleges or something small. some weeks the days blur together, he doesn’t leave the house, he orders his groceries, he doesn’t answer calls, he spends hours reading up on interdimensional technology and not caring for himself. 

[loccentchoi]

tfw u haven’t heard from ur dimension hopping boyfriend in 7 months:

[loccentchoi]

notthescarecrow:

Letting the tie go, he would have let his hands flop to his sides if Tendo hadn’t caught one of them. Giving him what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze, he listened with the same patience he’d somehow always managed to show this stubborn, bitter man. Maybe he loved him too damn much. “I will be fending you away from the bar at the first sign of you even looking at it,” he insisted, rolling his eyes. “If I have to burn it down you won’t be touching a drop.” Sighing, he resisted the urge to mess up the tie on purpose. “If you’re worried about introducing this vagrant Irish traveller to your old workmates, you can just say it,” he joked, probably tastelessly. “We’re going because you’ve been making progress. You can do this. And whether it’s a good idea or not, I’m going to be there to stop you weaselling out of it or emptying the bar. Even if you just show your face it’ll be a step forward. Okay?”

“Or we could burn it down. That’s an idea.” Knowing that he was being abrasively bitter and unable to stop it, Tendo’s fingers tightened around Jonathan’s hand a little convulsively. “It’s not that. You know it’s not that.” The former commander’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “I know... yeah. I do know. Maybe--maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s a step forward. Maybe. I just don’t know how I’m gonna face some of them after all this time.”

Letting go of Jonathan’s hand, Tendo met his partner’s eyes and his gaze softened, the sting leaving his voice. Jonathan was right, of course. This time of year was never easy, but the ten year mark heralded bigger events, more press, more commercialization, more talk of lost comrades and friends. It wasn’t avoidable. Neither was the invitation from the PPDC to attend reunion/memorial to all surviving members--not after Jonathan had found the invitation, that was. “It’s just been a very long time. I know that some of them have suffered the same things I have, I know that they’ll forgive me my distance. I feel... guilty. Ashamed of myself.” Tendo passed a hand over his face. “Forgive me. I am trying.”

[loccentchoi]

notthescarecrow

Arms like lead found his partner’s waist even in the semi-darkness and wrapped shakily around it. Familiar scents caressed the psychiatrist and soothed him, like he was returning home after a long holiday instead of from a random disappearance, which could have been many times worse than it had been. 

"There aren’t enough words in my brain to express how fucking glad I am that you’re still here,” he murmured against warm skin, closing his eyes partially out of exhaustion but mostly just to let his other senses bask in the experience of home.

The moment Jonathan's arms found Tendo, a reservation seemed to lift from him, his walls crumbling as the familiar scent and sensation of his partner crashed over him. "Oh, God." Tendo gasped, rolling over and wrapping his arms tightly around Jonathan, fingers caressing the lines of Jonathan's spine, sliding over the lean muscle of the psychiatrist's back, partially to assure himself that Jonathan was indeed real. He clung to the psychiatrist as though letting go of Jonathan would allow him to disappear again. 

"Oh, God." He murmured again, eyelashes fluttering as his hands moved up to cup Jonathan's face, peering at him in the low light of the room. "Gracious heaven, I can't--I wouldn't--" Tendo shook his head and his nose brushed against Jonathan's. "Of course I am still here. Thank goodness--thank fuck--you're alive. You're okay. I was--it's been so long--I didn't know if... if... " Tendo shuddered and his fingers smoothed over the line of Jonathan's chin, achingly, as if he'd been waiting forever to be able to do just that.