Author's Note: Good evening. Upset is too weak a word. I am enraged. I am devastated .I am everything negative and more. I knew that Olitz was toast from the moment Liv let Rowan walk out of that prison cell but the way that the Winter Finale handled it, the way that The Creator handled it was absolutely cruel, out of character, skewed, and unacceptable.I'm just…my in depth thoughts are on my Twitter/Tumblr. The only comfort I take is that The Creator did not physically kill them and that this is the Winter Finale and not the Summer.
Although, if this is any indication, the Summer Finale will be the absolute last straw for another big part of the fandom and I feel them. I don't judge anyone for tapping out after this one because the episode was fucked up and just cruel, damn it! What the fuck is wrong with The Creator and her enablers? Who the hell hurt them and why do they have to make us suffer for it? Why can't they just go to therapy and work that shit out there?
To reassure those who follow my fics and my antics on Tumblr: I'm in mourning and in recovery but I am determined to stay out of twisted pride and the deep attachment I still feel to Liv, Fitz, and Olitz. If I can't get what I want and deserve to see on the television, then I'll Handle it myself, along with HandsUp and maybe other Gladiators, past and present that are willing to collaborate with me. If you are, hit me up on Tumblr/Twitter under Trumpetnista and we'll get something started.
I'm not fucking going anywhere. I'm not.Call me stubborn, call me pathetic, call me brave, it doesn't matter.
I'ma ball until they turn the field lights off. Why?
I've invested too much time and too much love with Liv, Fitz, and Olitz to let that goddamned heartless ratchet ass, emotionally inept, bad writing, cheap wig wearing, stupid ass fucking bitch run me off! I won't let her win!
She's gonna have to outright kill them and let me see the bodies before I give up. I'm a Gladiator in a Hoodie and while I am hurt and disappointed and pissed off, I'm not going anywhere. I may not have been here first but I will be here last. My WIPs, my Draftbook Drabbles, my collab with HandsUp/ ivebraved100storms(I'm so glad that she's still willing to write, even if she may tap out watching), and other SCANDAL-ous projects will continue through the Hiatus, the rest of 5 that better Fix all this shit as right as it can be fixed, and beyond. Whether beyond is on the TV or just on FFN/AO3/elsewhere remains to be seen…
CMW2/Trumpetnista: Draftbook Drabble #33-(Follow up to #11, 15, 19, & 24, Stripper Sting AU, Fitz, Olivia, Cyrus, Maya, OOC, mentioned past Pope Marriage and Maya/Dominic, established Olitz, ride or die, protective!FitzVader)
Words from the Gladiator in a Hoodie:It's been a while since I touched this AU and I want to get back into it. Liv the Stripper/Fitz the G-Man has been one of my most popular ideas and the Muses are eager to play with me through this Hiatus and beyond.
After this one, I may go back to do a follow up on D.D. #7 (Liv exposes Defiance via an undercover Op) or a brand new one. I'm thinking either law enforcement partners or a canon corrector for the S3 Finale, most likely the latter. I don't know yet. I have to see. As always, there will be more for the WIPs and I hope you guys enjoy the latest!
Mad Love, Jam, and Power Drills, ~*Trump*~
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
Excerpt from Draftbook Drabbles #15 and #24:
"Maya!"
"Eli, she's going to do whatever she damned well pleases anyway! It's the stupid pride she got from you and the goddamned stubbornness she got from me! There's no use in trying to control her because all that's going to do is shut her ears and she'll cut us out completely! Is that what you want? It's bad enough having to constantly explain that our daughter has so little faith in us that she willingly gets on a pole and half naked in front of a camera to pay her bills! Do you really want to explain to your minions and comrades why we're not at her wedding or why we only see our grandchildren through photographs? I don't…"
"Your mother seems like she's had an epiphany about her relationship with you."
"She did just turn 50 last September. Looking back and seeing a half century gone can cause anyone to become introspective and self aware. Maybe she's wanted to reconnect with me for a while and what happened at the Club was her opening. If she's still feeling like that after the dust settles completely, then I'll meet her halfway. Life's too short and fragile to hold on to resentment and really, if I'm going to have a viable relationship with a parent, it's likely going to be with Maya. The only thing that's going to pry Eli's head out of his ass is a stick of TNT…or a back alley lobotomy..."
"…you've got a job with the FBI."
"Yeah. I'm not an agent. I'm a civilian consultant and trainer for their Vice division. Basically, I'm teaching bureaucrats how to think like the scumbags they're chasing after and training mainly women to dance and talk well enough to blend into the Clubs. The pay's enough so I don't have do anymore modeling or dancing unless I want to, they've got kickass dental, and I got it in writing that the Big Giant Heads won't shit on Fitz professionally just because he happens to be getting his ashes hauled by the Legendary Orchid the Naughty Schoolgirl AKA the Sultry Pinup Known as Tiger Lilly."
"They'd do that to him?"
"In half a heartbeat. For all the talk of America being the Land of the Free and progressive, once a woman, especially a Woman of Color takes control of her sexuality and has no shame about it, people get uncomfortable and revert back to the Puritanical, scarlet letter giving days of old. They know that I don't give a fuck about what they think of me but Fitz still does. He's protective of me and he'd give up any chance for the leadership positions he deserves by punching some jowl mouthed wheezing old fart in the throat for disrespecting me. I can't stop him from doing it but I can give him a safety net."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"Very much so…"
Of all the careers she had contemplated going into, teaching had never come up in the cards, especially in her "field of expertise"…and for the Feds, of all people! Here she was, a stripping, frilly underthings modeling young black woman about to step in the J. Edgar Hoover building itself not as a suspect or witness but as a teacher!
Life sure could be hilarious sometimes…
6 Months Later…
"Have you talked to your father since your graduation party?"
"A little bit on the phone. He's still raw about my professional and personal decisions and I'm still not sorry for them so we stick with safe small talk so neither of us ends up yelling."
"God, that man will never change…"
"I don't know why you keep expecting him to, Mom."
"He's a smart man and really, there's good in him. I wouldn't have married him and had you if there wasn't. I just want better for him, that's all. Hubris and stubbornness keep him from being happy. I just want him to be happy…"
"Momma, do you still love him?"
"Of course I do but I don't want to be with him, anymore. I'm with Dominic and he's who I'm supposed to be with, who I'm at my best with. Eli is…Eli. And even if he did a complete 180 in his Ways, I wouldn't go back to him. There's too much pain and too little trust between us. Do you understand?"
"Yeah…he still doesn't like Fitz. I don't think he ever will."
"Of course he doesn't like him and it's his loss. He doesn't like Fitzgerald because he can't control him, manipulate him, label him neatly, and he has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't give a damn about seeking his approval. The only Pope opinion that matters to that man is yours and he is a man. I can't stand how Eli keeps referring to him as a boy. He's a grown ass man with a sound mind, a steady job, and he genuinely loves you. What more could he ask for?"
"A submissive wife that would put up with his shit to the grave without even considering another man of another race and a perfect politically minded daughter who fell in love with a perfect politically minded black man and had no idea what a dancer's pole looked like, much less how to use it?"
"Yeah, well he got us so he'll have to sue the 3 Fates for emotional distress!"
The ludicrous image of her enraged father monologuing in front of an indifferent Clothos, Lachesis, and Atropos had 24 year old Olivia Pope grinning as her mother laughed on the other end of the phone call. Her grin became chortles at the image of the third Moirai eventually using her dreaded shears to cut his life thread just to shut him up. Of course, there would be a death match between him and Hades for control of the Underworld afterwards and it was a testament to Eli's character that Olivia thought that Hades wouldn't stand a fucking chance.
Although there was still some strain, Olivia's relationship with her mother had improved tremendously since she got tangled up in The Coliseum sting nearly two years ago. The strain between her and Maya Lewis came from feeling forgotten about in the wake of her new life with Dominic Bell. Olivia had felt like an unpleasant reminder of the past to her mother and in response, she had kept her distance. The truth of the matter was that Maya had felt awful for moving forward and essentially abandoning her. She hadn't wanted to. She had fought tooth and nail during the custody melees but Eli had gotten his way with the Courts, with public opinion…she hadn't wanted to leave her behind. Maya just felt like it was the only way that she would able to heal and to have peace again. Olivia hadn't understood it as a child and even a year ago but now, she did.
It was amazing what sitting down and communicating like mature adults could accomplish.
She had her Momma back.
Sadly, the same couldn't be said about her father. Actually, the strain between her and Eli Pope had worsened. They were civil but her father just couldn't get over himself or her choices. He had high expectations of her, so many big plans for her, and she refused to go along with them, even "for her own good". He had wanted her to be a professor, a Chief of Staff, a Director of Communications, a POTUS...he wanted her to achieve political and social greatness so he could feel like she earned the privilege of him being proud of her.
She had chosen poli-sci and law like he wanted but she refused to use it for politics. She had chosen to strip dance. She had chosen to model lingerie. She had chosen to work with law enforcement. She had chosen to remain in a romantic relationship with Special Agent Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III and she just didn't care about his opinions, anymore.
The fact she genuinely didn't care anymore confused and irked him to no end.
She had cared in the past, even if she was defying him but now, Olivia just saw him as a flawed, lonely and sometimes very hateful old man that just happened to be her father. She had love for him and she would care if something bad happened to him but he wasn't the center of the universe or a Big Bad Wolf. He was just Eli or Rowan, depending on who you talked to.
He wasn't a demigod or untouchable. He was just a man and seeing him as just a man allowed Olivia perspective and peace with the situation.
It was what it was…
"Momma, I've got another call coming in. Are we still on for Saturday?"
"We are. Dom's making Indian food so make sure to bring your appetite, Fitzgerald, and some antacids. Oh, and a bottle of white wine. We have the red. Du Bellay '89."
"I will. Bye, Momma."
"Bye, Baby Girl. Be safe."
Switching over to the line, she answered, "This is Olivia Pope."
"Olivia?"
"Hi, Cyrus. What can I do for you? Have my lessons been rescheduled again?"
"No. I need you to come down to the Hoover building immediately. There was an altercation between Fitz and another agent and he's refusing to talk to anyone, not even his union rep. The other agent is in the infirmary and may need to be transferred to a hospital. He's talking about pressing charges and if I can't get Fitz's motives for going after him, at best he'll be suspended. At worst…"
"I'm on the way."
/
"…can only imagine what she's like in the sack. You know how strippers are and she was one of the best in the damned region. People still talk about her routines and her lessons here…Grant's a lucky fucker. That mouth alone…she's got those big pink lips, made for being wrapped around a man's cock and that ass of hers…"
"Look, man, you can't be talking about her like that, especially around here. Olivia's more than a piece of ass and if Fitz hears you, you won't see anything but a stack of triplicate for at least a month. Don't get me wrong, he's a damned good at the job. He's earned his place as Lead Agent tenfold but he's also the Director's Golden Boy. Word is that he's first in line to take over once Beene has his inevitable heart attack and is forced to retire…"
"Yeah, but that was before he decided to be balls deep in a real relationship with Orchid the Schoolgirl and Queen Tiger Lily. Any chance of him getting promoted went up in smoke after that. Have you ever looked up some of her work? Not the pretty little YouTube tutorials or her lessons here but the real shit, her performances and photoshoots? Oh-ho…you're blushing. Oh, kid, you are precious…I bet the sight of all that chocolate satin put some hair on your balls, huh?"
"Hal had an old catalogue of hers in the locker room. He said he was looking for anniversary gift ideas for his girlfriend but…look, can we talk about something else? She's beautiful but she's still a person. She's not just a walking blow up doll and she's…"
"…a glorified cock tease and who's to say that she doesn't like the attention? Hell, she's probably banging at least 3 other guys than Grant. That Boy Scout won't know what to do with a bitch like that forever and I'm waiting for my opening to…"
The sound of the interrogation room turned holding cell door opening broke 33 year old Special Agent in Charge Fitzgerald 'Fitz' Grant III out of his reverie and the familiar cadence of stiletto heels made him sigh heavily. Of course, Cyrus had called her. She was his emergency contact and his power of attorney. He knew that he would have to face her eventually but he wasn't ready to. He was upset with himself and he was certain that once he told her the dirty details, she'd be just as upset, if not more.
He was head was lowered, his skinned and swollen red knuckles resting on the steel table. His black suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair he was sitting in. His black suspenders were lowered and his white dress shirt was open, stained with sweat and blood, as was his open plum purple tie, the tie that she had bought him.
There were handcuffs on his wrists and he could feel people in the observation area watching him, waiting for him to react. He had been quiet during the altercation, letting his fists, knees, feet, and elbows do the talking. He had gotten a glimpse of his face as he was hustled out of sight. It was and still was utterly placid. He hadn't yelled and while he could feel them pricking the back of his eyes, Fitz had yet to shed a tear.
The avenging rage that had fueled his actions against Special Agent Edward 'Eddie' Nicoletti was still there, along with the satisfaction of knowing the bastard was still in severe pain but shame tempered with worry had crept in.
He had acted just like Big Jerry. After years of making sure to be his sperm donor's exact opposite, he had gone completely nuclear and made a spectacle of himself.
He was a grown man and he had acted like a high schooler, a frat boy with more balls than brains. He had put his job in danger and his reputation as a levelheaded man was tarnished from that day forward.
Most of all, he had taken on the 'Knight in Shining Armor' mantle without her blessings. Olivia Pope was no damsel in distress and she didn't need a hero. She wanted a partner, a companion, not a hero. She could slay her own dragons. She could conquer the whole world if she wanted to. She didn't need to be wrapped in bubble wrap, locked in a tower or to have a big strong man fight her battles for her. She was capable and brilliant and genuinely sweet and that stupid motherfucker had absolutely no right to talk about her like that!
He had absolutely no right to talk about any woman like that, regardless of whatever line of work she engaged in! A woman had the right to do whatever and whoever she pleased, wherever and however she pleased without some ignorant, close minded piece of garbage demeaning them, hurting them, disrespecting them…
"Why is he handcuffed?"
"Ma'am, it's standard procedure to…"
"Give me the keys and get out."
"Ma'am…"
"I'm not just a ma'am, I'm a consultant for Vice. They wouldn't have given me the shiny laminated badge if I didn't know all the rules. You know him. You know that he would never hurt me. You also know me so you know that I would never let him lay a malicious hand on me without him losing it and his genitals afterwards. Give me the keys and get the fuck out. Now."
The door slammed in the wake of the departing agent (it sounded like Marcus Walker but he wasn't sure…) and Olivia sat on the edge of the table. She was in dark gray leggings and her favorite beige Timberland high heeled boots again, the ones that stopped just below her knees, this time with purple laces. When she wore those boots, she always matched the laces with her undergarments. The handcuffs were undone quickly and tossed into the far corner. Grabbing his wrists, she pressed soft kisses to them and his skinned knuckles before tapping him behind the ears. That was their non verbal request for air whilst kissing or in this case, a silent plea for eye contact. Slowly, Fitz obeyed her and he felt some of the tension in his body drain away as she hugged him. Leaning forward, he rested his cheek on her side and used his fingertips to trace one of the white dragonflies on her long sleeved black top.
"What'd he say about me?"
He shook his head.
"Fitz, I know Nicoletti from here and from The Coliseum. He's the walking equivalent of shower mildew and he's garbage. The only way he gets laid is if he goes for college barely legals or if he hits the Scene. I never did it but I know a lot of girls who would let anything with a badge at them. Well, technically I did but I didn't know for sure you were a Fed until the end of the Sting and I wanted you for you, not your badge and the money attached to it. Seriously, Nicoletti's a misogynist with a big nasty mouth, too much ego and a pencil dick and I'm not talking about those long thick pencils they give to Pre-K kids to help them learn how to write, either. He's like one of those mechanical pencils with the heads that fall out too much and are useless after a couple of strokes. What did he say about me? Did he call me a fame hungry whore? Did he make it sound like I was nothing but a piece of ass and a prick tease who wormed her way into the FBI's good graces? Did he call me a gold digger and a Pretty Woman reboot?"
"…yes, he did."
"It's nothing that I haven't heard before."
"You shouldn't have to hear it at all! It's your life and your body and you should be able to do whatever you want without some piece of shit tearing you down. He doesn't know how brilliant you are, how kind you are…I'm sorry, Livvie. I know you can take care of yourself. I know that you don't need a hero. I just…I love you so much and when I heard what he said, I snapped."
"You beat him like he owed you 10 years of child support."
Before he could stop himself, Fitz laughed and he was finally able to meet her eyes. She had chosen liquid gold eye shadow and there was no anger, no censure. She understood and she actually looked…
"No one's ever stood up for me before. Not really. I've always had to take care of myself and that's cool but…it's nice to know that I've got back up, now."
"So, I'm not in trouble?"
She laughed and replied, "Not with me. It seems as though you're about to get a mini unpaid vacation and a couple of anger management sessions, though."
"That's okay. You're more than worth it."
She was worth everything and more to him.
"On the bright side, you've got some mad street cred, now. The Big Giant Heads may be pissed off at you but everyone else was glad to hear that you're human, too and that you'll stick up for your Girl. And Nicoletti's a jerk. If you hadn't beat his ass, somebody else would've done it eventually and The Brass knows it. You'll be all right in the end, Fitz."
"I'm all right, now."
He really was.