#and it's no excuse for being THAT negligent in their duties and then their straight-up professional incompetence in episode 1

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 3

Them having Stone Monkey (apparently purely on instinct) constantly scratching while being introduced to the troop was pretty cool, since that's a legitimate deescalation behavior in monkeys. Something about how revealing stress acts as a bonding behavior and makes it less likely they'll be attacked. Humans do it too, kind of, when they rub at their hands or shoulders or neck (etc. etc.) when nervous or overwhelmed. ("Empathize with me! I am very stressed!").

Also something-something instinctive behaviors aside Stone Monkey being excited/overwhelmed/maybe a little overstimulated and choosing "ESCALATION!!!" as his response to all of that. He thinks the troop being scared of him is hilarious. He's scratching the fur off his arms but he's also going to get right up in your face anyway. Cautiously join him in admiring his cool new rock? He is going to play-lunge and also scream. Absolutely amazing. The troop has no idea what to do with these mixed signals. This kid is a menace and I love him.

Six Ears even gets in on the scratching behavior occasionally in the background, which might be because Stone Monkey actively terrorizing literally everyone trying to be playful (because he has the social skills of a literal, actual rock) is stressing Six Ears right out or it could be an attempt to deescalate on Stone Monkey's behalf. Monkey version of following in his new friend's wake throwing apologetic grimace-smiles at everyone. Possibly it's both. Point is: They included these behaviors and it's very fun.

You can also tell it worked because in just the journey to the cave you watch the four generals' views on Stone Monkey go from "uncanny valley horror entity lurking in the forest probably to kill us all" to "what a rude little kid >:| Emphasis on RUDE."

And, okay, I admit, I have softened my stance on the four generals. Somewhat. They seem to actually be taking their jobs seriously now. Maybe Episode 1 was a wake-up call and they won't utterly fail to notice an incursion until it's in the heart of their territory again. I don't want to go too crazy, but maybe they'll even be able to even muster a coherent response! Good for them.

Should probably still not be managing children, though.

Speaking of, Six Ears's increasing despair watching the train wreck in motion that was the four generals fumbling hard in giving Stone Monkey his very first etiquette lesson after he finally settled down and seemed willing to hear them out is also very relatable and hilarious. He knows they failed the test. Stone Monkey is definitely never going to listen to them again. They blew it. RIP Flower Fruit Mountain.

Stone Monkey does check in with Six Ears when he decides the generals are useless about explaining though, and that's pretty cute. He trusts his friend :) He also definitely internalizes that thing about having to ask to leave the presence of the king, so at least they managed to teach him some manners. ONE manners. A single manner. (Spoiler: They immediately regret this.)

But hey! This time Six Ears is left entirely to his own devices and still manages to get caught smack in the middle of enemy action. Not the Generals' fault for once! Six Ears just attracts this kind of thing, I guess.

3/3 Six Ears is Damsel-ed, but only 2/3 it's the adults' fault. The tally develops.

[crowned-with-wisdom]

Oh uh. I mean, it sounds like he wasn't a bad ruler just that he wasn't some messianic princess of destiny figure that improves everything for everyone ever through sacrifice.

“You really wish to know why I view my father's rule so poorly? Very well." Any kindness in my features drops, as I stare straight into you.

"First and foremost, he allowed those outside his rule to suffer. Even when we had an overabundance with which to help. Sure, these people were not his own, and by that definition… not his problem. But, then the courts decided that these poor innocent souls were deplorable because they needed to scrounge for what they had. All of a sudden, any favor he could give to a people crying out for help would be seen in an unpopular light and therefore he could not give aid for appearance sake.”

“In the end, it was all about his image! He was wrapped around the fingers of so many different nobles I did not know where his original policies began and the court’s ideas ended. Mother kept him in check but when she passed he could not make a decision without someone being in his ear.”

“Hyrule was lucky that there were a few decent nobles and clergymen who spoke up on their behalf. That is the grip the court had upon him. And he was happy to be blissfully unaware of things. He was dutiful to what he deemed proper kingly duties, but any other problems were ignored until he could pretend them away no longer.”

"I do not hold an ill view of my father because I hold him to the standard of some messianic princess of destiny. It is because I hold him to the standard of what a decent Hylian should be. No more. No less. I understand no one is perfect. I am far from so. I do not want to think of my father as deplorable... Yet, just because his actions and negligence barely equaled out in the end, it did not make him an acceptable ruler.”

"This!" I motion around myself. "Is where his rule led us. Hyrule, occupied by a foreign king. Its castle filled with the Dark Lord's monsters. While my father is long dead and decaying in some ditch or field from what I have been informed. Many soldiers died on his account. Some villages were all but completely massacred on Ganondorf's march to the capital."

"I cannot reiterate much more on just how swayed my father was by the people he kept around himself. Nor on just how corrupt those people were and how anyone acquainted with his court could see it."

"Now, while I do not know if the outcome could have been different, there was a chance for peaceful coexistence then. There is still a chance now. So excuse this messianic princess as she attempts to pick up the pieces her father left for her." With that, I turn and leave you to think upon my words.

[ds-ts-smut-fics]

Lovely Boys [Chapter One]

Summary: Janus and Logan are both in love with Remus, it’s just a matter of who can convince Remus of their feelings first. 

Trigger warnings: NSFW, real hardcore insecurity, not the healthiest habits, rough sex, being caught (kind of, they’re not walked in on), mention of abusive and negligent past exes who neglected proper BDSM rules, some very rude degrading self talk, sl*t as an endearing term

Genre: Hurt/Comfort smut (Sub Remus, dom Logan, switch Janus), intruloceit 

Written by: Virgil & Claire

Edited by: Virgil 

A/N: This is completely written, so unlike Sweet On You, the whole thing should be posted relatively quickly/consistently lmao. We set out to write a quick one shot and then wrote an angsty 40 pages. ~Virgil

Remus fell in love with Janus the moment they moved in together. 

He walked through the door with his arms loaded with half-closed luggage, and when he saw the man standing in the kitchenette, he realized what a mistake he had made responding to the ad. He was thin, with vitiligo paling his otherwise tan skin. His hair was dyed yellow, with floofy bangs that hung in his gray eyes. 

Without looking back, Janus hummed softly. "Hello, you're certainly not welcome… Come in and put your things down? You would be Remus, I presume."

Remus cleared his throat and tried not to stumble over his words. “Yep!” He kicked the door shut and dropped his luggages with a loud clatter. “Yeah, that’s me, Remus. You’re, uh, you’re not Janus, are you?” Surely this was Janus’ super hot boyfriend— Not someone Remus had to converse with regularly without imagining him… Just, never mind. 

"I am… I hope you weren't expecting a female…" A frown crossed his face as he turned, showing black painted nails as he tapped his cracked lips. "That would be unfortunate indeed."

Remus coughed. He was, actually. “That’s not the problem here,” he said cheerfully, quickly averting his gaze from Janus’ nails, his mouth. “The ad sure didn’t warn me I’d have to be able to withstand sexy roommate syndrome.” 

Surprised laughter bubbled from his lips as he leaned on the counter. "Oh, my… You're quite a charmer, aren't you? At least you didn't run. I promise not to bite unless asked~?" 

Remus shuddered. “Which way’s my room?” He squeaked. Don’t pounce your new roommate. Real shitty first impression. 

Waving him to follow, he labeled the rooms, opening Remus' door for him. "I do hope you're not afraid of snakes, or the gays~?"

“Snakes?” Remus grinned and bounced after him. “You have snakes?!” 

Nodding, he smiled. "I shall introduce you after you unpack and we eat dinner?"

Remus flushed dark red. “You want me to eat with you?” His voice came out a little more subdued. 

Janus nodded with a frown. "Yes? It's rather important to me to make sure people I know are taking care of themselves— Just ask the debate team! I bring snacks and water to every practice debate."

“Well…” Remus straightened up with a grin. “Then I’ll help cook!” 

Remus rushed back to the front door and grabbed one of his overstuffed suitcases, which had bursted open upon impact, and dragged it towards his room. Dirty laundry, lewd comics, and crinkled sketchbooks trailed behind. 

Picking up after him, Janus nodded. "That sounds entirely doable…. Split the food budget and alternate dish duty then?" 

“Mhm!”

Remus got all of his shit into his room, and throughout dinner, he had somehow managed to not slobber all over everywhere staring at Janus. He wasn’t… Entirely prepared for his roommate to be so hot and so gay. So he had fallen pretty fast, and then tucked away any notion of his feelings being returned. For safety. 

That was pretty simple, until he met Logan. 

Frowning softly, Logan nearly ran over someone in the sidewalk, stumbling and holding his bag. "Terribly sorry… Do you know where 241 is?"

Remus brightened up. He’d had a pretty shitty morning, what with walking into the kitchenette to find Janus shirtless and somehow Remus spilled hot bacon grease on him, but this boy was extremely cute. Any excuse to get his mind off the embarrassment! 

“I sure do!” A predatory grin slid over Remus’ face as he squinted up at him, the sun in his eyes. “Headed there right now, why don’t I escort you and keep you safe from all the assholes headed that way?” 

"A capital idea indeed… Would that indicate that you are also taking anatomy lab at this time?" Falling into step with the smaller boy, a small smile tugged at his lips. He's too cute… That streak in his hair, the mustache. I want to know how that would feel. Oh, dear.

“Mhm!” Remus’s cheery voice, and his arm wrapping around Logan’s, broke him out of his daze. “Right now and later tonight if you’re up for it!” 

Blushing, he nodded. "Perhaps… See if you can keep up with me as a lab partner and then we can see if you're still up for more~?"

Remus looked up in surprise. His shitty pickup lines never worked! He laughed a bit. “Are you shitting me?” 

"If you are truthfully asking and can put up with my, admittedly very dominating, personality, I see no reason to not try at least a one night arrangement. Unless you were joking and are in fact straight?" He tipped his head gently with a smirk. 

Remus shivered in excitement. When was the last time he was dommed? He ruffled Logan’s hair and giggled. “I can handle you if you can handle me!” He yanked him into class, picking the seat next to Logan and glaring at anyone who tries to sit near them. 

Laughing lightly, Logan hummed, setting up his workspace carefully and nudging Remus to do the same. "Focus, show me how well you take direction. Think of it as an interview for the position you desire~?"

Remus grinned. It was the slyest, shittiest way anyone’s ever convinced him to do his classwork, and he loved it. He couldn’t help going home that day with the biggest grin, rushing around to make sure everything’s ready for Logan’s arrival. 

Logan had a bounce in his step as he collected some supplies before coming over at precisely the time they had discussed, knocking.

Remus threw the door open with a manic grin. “My roommate won’t be home for a few hours,” he said as he grabbed Logan by his shirt and yanked him inside. “Do what you will with that. Bedroom’s this way.”

Chuckling, Logan tugged Remus around to stroke his face. "Mmm, then shouldn't you kiss me, Rem~? Show me how much you want to study with me…"

“Anything you say,” he whispered, and shoved their mouths together. 

Remus hadn’t kissed anybody in a long time— Several years, in fact. He was probably sloppy, and not the best, but he enjoyed it and fully intended on making it up to Logan with his… Obedience. 

Sighing, Logan took him into his hand, guiding their kiss to press him into the nearest wall, encouraging his mouth to open and humming appreciatively at the taste of mint. Remus whimpered softly. He almost wouldn’t mind just doing this until Janus gets home. Logan was more commanding than Remus had really expected, manhandling him around exactly how he wanted, and the way he kissed is nothing short of wonderful. 

Slowly pulling back, Logan cupped his face with a soft look. "Such a good boy for me… Show me to your room, I want to see all of you, my dear. Tell me your safe words, hmm? Also, you preferred term of endearment while you are mine~"

Remus groaned and nearly buckled. “Slut,” he said instantly. “And, uh, colour system. This way.” He tugged Logan into his room with shaking hands. It was cleaner than usual, but Remus was still Remus, and there was clutter spread about that he simply hadn’t thought of until then. 

Chuckling, he hums. "Perfect… my little slut~!" Giving another deep kiss in praise, he gently spanked Remus' ass. "Put some music on and strip for me, show your dom what he's working with~"

Remus hurried to plug his phone into his speakers with an excited grin. 

Sitting on the bed, he hummed. "Make me want that ass more, my slut… "

Remus stripped for him, and it wasn’t exactly a tease so much as it was Remus impatiently tugging off his clothes and looking at Logan with wide, validation-seeking eyes. 

Sliding his legs apart, showing the erection tenting his pants, Logan crooked his fingers. "Good boy… Help me out of my pants and you can suck me as a treat, my lovely one… I'm finishing in your sexy ass, though~ "

Remus bounded over and knelt between Logan’s legs, impatiently tugging at his jeans. He got them down to Logan’s knees, yanked his boxers down as well, and ducked down to take Logan into his mouth. 

"Oh~!" Fingers tangled in the surprisingly soft hair, he moaned out. "Fuck, Remus~! Such a good little slut, aren't you~"

Remus whimpered around his cock, wanting to respond but not daring to pull off. Instead, he pushed deeper, taking all of him. 

"Yes, you are… Swallow too, Rem… Want to fuck your throat~" Tugging at his hair, he guided the motion to slowly fuck his mouth. 

Remus moaned happily and swallowed every few seconds, though mostly drool dripped down his chin. He let his mind float off, gripping Logan’s hips. Had he ever been in subspace before? He didn’t think so. 

Humming, Logan grinned as Remus relaxed, taking over completely to fuck into his throat. "Such a good little slut… Earning a treat before the main event~" 

Remus mumbled something unintelligible around Logan’s cock, eyes rolling back. 

"Tap once for yes, two for no… Your mouth is full~!" Taking him deeper, he hummed, cutting off Remus' air a little more. Remus gagged and rubbed his cock against the blankets, hips stuttering. He tapped hard, once. Logan grinned, thrusting faster. "Going to cum for master, my slut~? Only after I feed you the treat you've earned… Master cums first unless you have permission~!" 

Remus whined and tapped along Logan’s hips in two-tap intervals, hips hunching. 

"You beg so prettily… How can I refuse~? Cum for me, Remus~ " Using his mouth and throat, he moaned out, watching Remus fall apart.

Remus sobbed out as he came, nails digging into Logan’s hips. He didn’t pull off, as much as his throat spasmed and his back ached. 

Stroking the soft hair, Logan moaned, tugging to warn Remus as he came hard. "Oh, fuuuuck~"

Remus inhaled sharply and nearly choked, but forced himself to swallow it down with watery eyes, his cock already hardening back up. 

Petting him in apology, Logan moaned out, "Sorry, my slut… Couldn't hold back with the way you came apart for me~!" 

Remus leaned into his pets with a little whine. “It was good,” he rasped, “I liked it.” 

Stroking Remus' face, he wiped away the tears, encouraging him up to his lap. "I'm glad… "

Remus kissed him sloppily, hands rested on his chest. “Need you, master,” he mewled. 

Kissing back, he grinned, petting the wiggling sub. "Mmm, let me get a condom and finish stripping as you present for me, sweetie… I'll let you pick whether you see me or I take you from behind~"

Remus bounced out of his lap with an excited giggle, flopping onto his tummy and tucking his knees underneath him. It was the best position he’d ever tried— He’d never felt anyone deeper. 

Logan laughed as he saw the plug, giving Remus a squeeze. "Good boy… Do you always wear the plug or is that special for tonight~?" 

He flushed deep red. He’d honestly forgotten he had it in… “Mostly just for tonight, but, um… Sometimes, you know…” 

Nodding, he stroked the amazing ass presented to him, sliding on a condom and kneeling up. "You need to feel full, claimed? It's okay, my slut…"

Remus clenched and forced up a manic grin to push away the tightness in his chest. “Nah, I’m just a cockslut! Get going?” 

Humming, he slid his cock over Remus' crack, teasing the plug as he tugs his hair to pull him into a kiss. "Mmm, it's okay if it's both, Rem… I'm definitely down for this to be a repeatable event if you are~ "

Remus can’t help it slip out, in a pathetic little whimper: “I’ve been that good?” 

"Yes, Rem…. so good~" Removing the plug as they make out, he pressed in slowly. 

Remus whimpered and buried his face in the pillows. “Ah… Yes, master, so good!”

Kissing at Remus’ neck, he took the slim hips with a moan, slowly bottoming out and starting to thrust. "So good for me, my pretty slut~! Oh, Remus~ "

“Master!” Remus cried out, thrusting back against him. “Master, harder!” 

Growling, he nipped at Remus' neck, thrusts speeding as his fingers tighten on Remus' hips, bucking into him wildly. "Fuuuck, oh yesss… take my cock, slut~!"

Remus’s legs fell open and he sobbed into the pillow, coming without warning with a little shout. 

Nipping his ear, Logan growled, fucking him through the high without pause. "Mmm, that good, hmm~? Break for me, slut… Shout my name for the entire building to hear~!"

“Logan!” He whined, squirming and gripping onto the sheets. “Ah, Logan, please! Too- Too much!” 

Bending to press deeper, Logan chuckled in his ear. "Unless you use a color you will take it exactly as I give it to you, slut~!"

Remus let out a high whine and thrusted back into him wildly. “I’m sorry, master!” 

"That's a good boy~! Submit to your master, slut… " Working him to that edge again, he eased back when he felt those clenches. "You're mine for as long as I desire to give you my cock and attention~!"

Remus drooled on the pillow as he took Logan’s cock, whimpering. He’d lay himself out for Logan every ten minutes if he asked him to. He realized with a deep fear settling in his stomach that he would do absolutely anything for Logan, just to keep him around. 

Nuzzling his neck and shoulders, Logan spanked him. "Stay in the now even when you're floating, slut… focus~!" 

“Sorry,” he gasped, “I’m sorry, master!”

Taking a moment to kiss his ear, Logan hummed. "I know…. Just don't want to lose you to the past or bad thoughts… Stay here, feel good with me, Rem~!"

“Yes, sir! It’s so good! Can I please come again, please please?” 

Grinning, he sped his thrusts again. "Clench for me, make me cum and you can cum with me, Rem~"

Remus clenched down with a whimper, the pillow under his face soaking wet. 

Moaning out, Logan thumbed him open wider, watching him take his cock deep. "On three, pet…. One… Two…" Remus gasped and fought desperately to hold on. Pressing in deep, he slammed against Remus’ prostate, and came with a moan. "Three~"

Remus came with a sob and a shout of Logan’s name and title, pressing his face deep in the pillow. 

Janus paused with his hand on their front doorknob. Logan…? Is that Remus?!

Logan moaned out and grinned, burning the noise and feeling of Remus coming, laid out under him, into his memory as he filled the condom. He kissed and marked Remus up, hips slowly moving to ride the high. "Oh, gods! Remus, such a good boy~"

Remus moaned brokenly, his knees giving out to leave him flat on the mattress. “Master,” he managed. 

Logan stroked Remus' face and tipped it for a kiss, shifting their positions to settle him in his lap after pulling out and discarding the condom. "Good boy, such a good boy… So proud of you! Show master where the water is, sweetie?"

“Kitchen,” he mumbled, blushing bright red at the praise. “You can just leave me at the table, I can take care of it.”

Frowning, he shook his head, picking him up for more cuddles and heading for the bathroom instead. "No… You're worthy of aftercare, my dear one…" 

“What?” Remus buried his face in Logan’s shoulder. “You don’t have to. I can handle it.”

Petting him with a hum as he filled a glass, he smiled. "Remus… Look at me? I would be a terrible dom of I EVER left a sub without aftercare… and I am not that kind of person. You are worthy, and you were such an amazing boy for me!" 

Remus covered his face. “Thank you, master,” he whispered. 

Nuzzling, he smiled. "You're welcome… Show me your face, dear? You need to drink some water…"

Remus obeyed, drinking all the water Logan gave him. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was. 

Stroking his cheek, he smiled, refilling the glass and offering it again. "Good… More. Relax into me, sweetie… Enjoy the care…"

Remus had never had aftercare before. He decided he enjoyed it. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, sipping some more water. Then, as quietly as possible, “I’m hungry…”

Nuzzling, he smiled. "In a moment, dear…" Taking a cloth, he dampened it, cleaning them up a bit. "I know you said your roommate was unlikely to return, but… at least a blanket for you?”

“He’s seen me naked before. I sleep naked, and sleepwalk.”

Chuckling, he nuzzled lightly. "Mmm, for me then? Warmth and softness feels good as you come back to earth after a session, dear."

“Yes, sir.” He blushed and nuzzled back into him. “Anything you want.”

Heart clenching, he sighed. "You're so sweet…" Lifting again, he carried Remus back to retrieve a blanket, making him into a burrito. "Tell me what you're hungry for?"

“Waffles,” he said instantly. “I have frozen ones in the freezer. They’re blueberry.” 

Nodding, he scooped Remus into his arms after slipping his boxers on, missing the sound of the other bedroom door shutting carefully. "Waffles it is, then. Butter, syrup? Perhaps some time I can make you fresh ones~?"

“We don’t have a waffle maker,” Remus said sadly. 

Humming, he lifted his chin. "Ah, but I do… That was an invitation to my place, for next time~"

He lit up. “Okay!” He grinned and pecked his lips. “Sure!”

Kissing back softly, Logan laughed, and got started making the waffles. "Wonderful! You're entirely too precious to be just one night… "

Remus sniffled and forces his grin to stay up. “No… You’re probably just desperate.” He laughed. “I’m an easy fuck, you don’t have to pretend I’m not!” 

"Remus…" Cupping his face, he sighed. "Was it easy to see that we had a common interest in hooking up, yes… However, I also admire your keen mind. I was attracted right off the bat, but I would like to see more of you. As friends, or friends with benefits, or more if that's where the path leads us…"

Remus’ grin faltered as he met Logan’s eyes. It took all he has not to burst into tears— What a shitty, pathetic way that’d be to end their night. “Do you wanna… Sleep over?” 

Gathering him into a hug, he smiled. "If your roommate is okay with it, sure. How about a movie night and cuddles?"

He grinned. “I have a lot of movies! I’m sure Jan-Jan won’t mind, he’s super laid back.” 

Arching an eyebrow, he chuckled. "Must be if he lets you call him that… But I have an idea that you'd call him nicknames even if he said not to?"

Remus pouted. “Nicknames are my love language.” He hesitated, fiddling with his fingers. “Do you… Not want me to call you nicknames?”

Humming, he lifted Remus' face. "Don't magnify my fond tease to an expression of dislike, Rem… I don't mind one bit!" 

Janus listened near the door of his room, debating on going to the kitchen as his stomach twisted into knots. What is this feeling… Jealousy, but of whom?! 

“Okay,” he mumbled with a cute smile. His stomach growled loudly. 

Chuckling as the toaster sprung the waffles up, he stole a kiss. "Now… Butter, syrup, or both… And yes I will be cutting them up and feeding you while you sit on my lap, my pretty little one!" 

He blushed bright red. “Y-yes, sir… Both, please…”

Logan slathered them up, cutting them for him as he slid Remus over into his lap. "Looks good, hmm? Open up!" Remus opened, hands rested on Logan’s chest. Logan smiled as he fed him gently. "Such a good boy!"

“No,” Remus whined. “Nuh-uh.”

Kissing his cheek, he smiled sadly. "Why not?"

Remus looked away with a little shrug. “You’ve seen it.”

Tipping his chin back to feed another bite, he hummed. "Pretend I'm an idiot. Explain to me why you're not a good boy deserving of praise?"

Remus hesitated. “Do I have to?” He asked in a small voice. 

"No, you don't have to… I'm too curious for my own good sometimes." He stroked Remus’ cheek. "However, if you want to talk about things, I will listen. I’ll try to make you feel better."

For the millionth time that night, Remus could cry. “Shut up,” he mumbled with a sniffle. 

Smiling, he cuddled Remus close. "It is okay to use me as a literal shoulder to cry on, Rem… No judgement."

“I don’t need to cry,” he insisted. 

Breathing out, Janus decided to make his presence known, stepping into the kitchen as if summoned by the lie. "Whyever wouldn't you? Crying is healthy and a good release…" 

Jumping a little, Logan cleared his throat. "Indeed…" Janus is his roommate? Oh, gosh. 

Remus’ heart dropped. “Jan-Jan? When- How long have you been home?” His skin crawled in embarrassment. The dried tears still stuck to his face from earlier, wrapped in a blanket, and sat on a boy’s lap… He probably looked pathetic. 

Smiling, Janus stroked his hair lightly. "Mmm, if you're asking if I heard you two making friends… I did… I'm a tad jealous, he's cute…" 

Logan blushed softly. "Remus is adorable indeed…"

Remus’ face turned bright red. He buried his face in Logan’s shoulder. “Sorry, Janus… We wouldn’t have been so loud if we knew you were home.” 

Logan pet him softly, embarrassed, but chose to focus on Remus, helping him hide. 

Janus sighs softly, flushing lightly. "Remus… It's okay. Truly.” Then, he mumbled, “It covered up my moans nicely…"

Remus blinked. “Huh?”

Logan chuckled. "I believe we gave him, uh, motivation to touch himself, my dear…." 

Janus nodded, blush deepening. "The nerd's right… "

It didn’t quite compute in Remus’ head, until he forced it to make sense with a nod. “Logan is a really good dom, isn’t he?” He blushed and looked up at Logan. He was so handsome, and hot, and commanding… He didn’t blame Janus for wanting him, too. 

Janus resisted the urge to facepalm. "He did seem to elicit quite a reaction from you…" Damnit, you dense man! I wanted to be him, not fuck him!! 

Logan laughed softly. Oh my… Janus has a crush on Remus…

“He made me waffles,” Remus said with a delighted grin. “And he’s been really sweet afterwards… If you two hit it off, maybe he can make you feel good, too, Jan-Jan! Have you ever had aftercare before?” 

“You- You’ve never had aftercare before?! How?!” Janus tripped over his words, looking over Remus and stroking through his hair. “We can get a waffle maker… Do you want more?” 

Logan muffled a laugh, stealing a bite before offering Remus more. "I know, right? I want to find those negligent doms…" 

Together they finished with a low growl, "-and beat some sense into them!"

Remus, startled, looked between the two of them and wilted. “Is it… A common thing?” He managed. 

Cuddling Remus, Logan nodded. "It is supposed to be… As it was explained to me, a dominant partner takes the power gifted by the submissive to make their scene reality, but aftercare is the return of that power?" 

Janus nodded. "It also gives the pair time to relax, make sure that both are okay? Especially if there was a lot of degrading language or impact play, sometimes a dom needs reassurance that they didn't go too hard, and the sub is truly okay."

Remus nodded slowly. He wanted to explain that he didn’t need that, not really… But he didn’t want to. He yawned and curled into Logan’s chest, nuzzling up under his chin. 

Smiling, Logan petted his hair and offered another bite of waffle. "Even if you think that you don't need it, it's a good thing for both scene partners, Rem."

“Mm,” he mumbled. “Jan-Jan, we were gonna watch some movies, do you want to join? You don’t have any early classes tomorrow, do you?” Remus glanced at the clock. It was getting close to 11. 

Janus hummed thoughtfully. "I have a ten o'clock… But I think one movie would be alright." 

“Yay!” Remus doubted he could even stay awake for longer than one movie, so that was perfect. He nuzzled into Logan again then stood on wobbly legs, and nearly fell over. 

Logan chuckled and scooped him up with a soft kiss. "I think I broke your legs, Rem~!"

He giggled and blushed, looking over at Janus. “Whoops.” This is so embarrassing… What does Janus think of me now?

Janus snorted, reaching over to stroke Remus' cheek. "It is a good look on him…. Being cared for. Just relax, Remus… I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

If Remus could blush brighter, he would. Since moving in with Janus, he had seen every form of not-self care Remus took part in, ranging anywhere from unhealthy meals, skipping classes, and degrading comments about himself. Janus always made a fuss, but Remus didn’t think he meant it that strongly. 

Nodding, Janus grabbed a blanket and the remote, working with a blushing Logan to get them settled with Remus in the middle, draped over Logan's chest. "Indeed… you just lay on me and relax, Rem…" 

“Yes, sir,” he breathed before he could really think about it, eyes fluttering shut as he snuggled into Logan’s chest. 

Logan's heart squeezed as he kissed Remus on the head, not noticing Janus frown in jealousy. Why is it him that gets you to relax and take my advice on care… Remus, why not me?!!

Remus only lasted halfway through the movie before passing out, little snores blowing out his mouth. 

Janus inspected his nails, refusing to let his anger seep into his hushed voice as he asked, “So I assume you guys are dating now?” 

Stiffening, Logan finished tucking Remus into bed and turned, voice cold and hushed. "Shall we discuss in the living room so we won't disturb him?"

Janus rolled his eyes but obeyed, leading Logan into the kitchenette and starting on a mug of coffee. 

Following after retrieving his clothes and dressing, Logan took a mug and sipped. "We hadn't discussed anything like that… And I don't think he's ready. He was certain that this was a one night hookup and that I would leave after. I intend to work up to at least friends with benefits, but I assume you want him as well?"

Janus stiffened. “Remus is my best friend, nothing more. Wouldn’t dating him prove that he’s more than just a hookup to you? What do you mean ‘he’s not ready?’” He scoffed. “I see the way he looks at you— Hell, I see the way he looks at everyone. He’s just waiting for a boyfriend to drop into his lap. Are you sure it’s him that’s not ready, or were you just not prepared for the commitment?” 

Growling softly, Logan's fingers tightened on the mug. "He's not emotionally ready… I wouldn't want to take advantage of that raw need! Do I want him to be mine, definitely! He's a lovely submissive, but he didn't even know about aftercare! He needs friends first, an education on what it would mean for him… I want his informed consent, not a moldable puppet, Janus!"

Janus didn’t seem convinced. “And somehow you believe that’s impossible to do in a committed relationship… That’s fine. Keep dragging him along. I’ll be here when you’re not.” 

Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, I'm terrified that I'm not enough for him. I saw how he looked at you, too… You can't tell me that he doesn't want both of us!"

Janus looked at him in surprise, then sighed as well. “Don’t fool yourself, Logan. He wants anybody who gives him the smallest bit of attention. He doesn’t actually want either of us.” 

He tapped the table with a deep frown. "That's a fair observation… Hence my reservation to commit and then have him run to the next person. However, if it were you, I wouldn't mind sharing, perhaps."

Janus’s face turned pink. He sipped his coffee and then turned away, busying himself with cleaning up. “You don’t have to say that. He chose you.”

Smirking, he smacked Janus’ ass lightly. "Perhaps…. I can't say I haven't looked at you, either~!"

Janus whipped around with a jump, face red. For the first time since Logan’s met him, he was flustered. “Wh- What?”

Adjusting his glasses, he hummed. "I had assumed you were far too dominant to attempt to obtain, but now I'm uncertain. Remus believed you were jealous of him…" 

Janus crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. “Remus is an idiot. He’s the most dense man I’ve ever met.”

"Is he? Or is that you?" Stepping in closer, he watched the reactions of the other man as he closed him in against the counter.

Janus’s eyes flitter around, landing on somewhere close to Remus’ room. “What does it matter? Has Remus told you he’s okay with not being exclusive?”

"We didn't discuss our relationship as yet… I know I'm poly and pan… But I need to talk with him. If he agrees, what say you, Jan-Jan~?" Reaching out, he stroked Janus' cheek softly.

Janus barely stopped himself from melting into the touch. “We’ll see,” he mumbled, looking away. 

"Agreed, but know that I'm open to the idea?" Petting softly when he doesn't get a flinch, he smiled. 

Janus brushed his hand off and stepped away. “You should get back to him,” he murmured. “He’ll freak if he wakes up.” 

Nodding, he stepped back, heading back to Remus. "Sleep well, Janus…"

“Thanks,” he muttered, and hurried to his room. 

When Logan went back into Remus’ room, Remus shot upwards and poorly tried to wipe away the tears before they could be seen. “Jan-?”

"Oh, dear…" Sliding into the bed after sliding out of his clothes, he hummed, taking Remus in his arms. "I'm sorry, Rem, I believed you to be asleep and didn't want to bother your rest."

Remus snuggled into his chest. “I’m okay,” he promised. His face was still wet. “I thought you left?”

"I promised to stay the night, dear… Janus simply wanted a chat." Stroking his hair, he encouraged Remus to cuddle, wiping the tears.

“Oh…” Remus kissed his cheek. “I hope you’re getting along. Janus is my best friend.”

Smiling, he nuzzled lightly. "I know, dear… He was very concerned about us, this, uh,  relationship… What do you want us to be, my dear?" 

Remus hesitated. “I want whatever you want.” 

He stroked Remus’ hair as he thought. "I don't want to take advantage of you… You're beautiful, and I want to take care of you, but I worry that you need more balance than a one on one relationship. Now, I am polyamoirous and pansexual, so… you simply need to communicate your needs. Do you want me to be your dominant, your boyfriend?"

Butterflies practically exploded in Remus’ stomach. “You want to be boyfriends?” He asked excitedly. 

Cupping his face, he smiled and lifted Remus’ to meet his eyes. "I would be honored to be your boyfriend, Remus,” he said firmly, “if you'll have me?" 

Remus nodded frantically, and kissed Logan messily. Kissing back with equal fervor, Logan’s fingers slid into his hair to guide the kiss. Mine~

Remus whimpered and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist. “I’m so glad I met you,” he breathed out. 

Snuggling Remus close, he nodded, kissing his forehead. "Me too, my precious."

Remus fell asleep in his arms, smiling.

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[marysfoxmask]

I've always HC'd Colin to be a victim of what we would call now Munchausen By Proxy on the part of his staff - they never said he could go out, kept telling him he was sick, never told him he could even leave bed, gave him treatments that he didn't need - it's classic medical abuse. Colin is ten, and calling his neuroses his own when they were definitely created by the people around him lets everyone else at Misselthwaite off too easy.

Though I do agree with your main point that having a disabled character who *stays* disabled is very important and Dickon's disability shouldn't have been written out (though in my head he has a severe facial deformity bc of the way Burnett described him as like carved out of wood.”

- @chasingtheskyline

i’ve heard that munchausen’s by proxy is a pretty common diagnosis for colin’s sickness, and i think it does fit to an extent, but i believe munchausen’s by proxy is considered so dangerous because it’s intentional on behalf of the caregiver, whereas i think mrs. medlock and the misselthwaite staff are genuinely helpless and just trying to do what they can with the circumstances they’ve been given. it’s especially easy nowadays to ignore the class hierarchy at work here—mrs. medlock and co. are beholden to mr. craven, who’s abandoned his duties as father of colin and master of misselthwaite. they can’t criticize his negligent parenting to his face because he’s likely to have them sacked for their impudence (folks like mrs. medlock and martha would always be aware of that risk). they’re also laboring under period era difficulties like lack of support for premature babies (more on that later), psychology being only a budding field at this time, and lack of education in general (neville craven is the only person educated in matters of health and medicine located locally, and even he’s busy with other patients in thwaite, given he’s not a rich man and has to make money elsewhere). i don’t envy the stress and strain the servants at misselthwaite are under in regards to colin and his fluctuating health. 

while i definitely agree that, as adults, they should have put their collective foot down and made more of an effort to help him, they’re still beholden to a classist system where the plain common sense of susan sowerby would never reach “master” colin’s ears unless mary, with her lack of regard for what’s proper or not, intervened. it just wasn’t done back then—even if mrs. medlock and co. had doubts, they couldn’t reasonably be expected to voice them, especially since colin eagerly wields his class privilege like a cudgel.

it’s a minor detail in the text, but something i’m surprised hasn’t been mentioned more when discussing colin is that he’s a preemie! lilias died when she was heavily pregnant, certainly in her third trimester. straight out of the gate, colin hasn’t had the full time needed to grow and develop in the womb—which is definitely a source of birth trauma. premature babies are noted to be more prone to mental illnesses like anxiety and depression than typically maturing babies, and they also may have weak immune systems and other health problems. obviously the staff at misselthwaite wouldn’t have the exact clinical knowledge of this, but it doesn’t take a medical degree to realize “mom injuring self and dying in childbirth = not the strongest circumstances to start off life in.” i’m sure they coddled him so much not because they instantly thought he was sick from the moment he was born, but because they knew that, as a premature baby, colin was more likely to be ill than other babies allowed to grow to term. 

it’s also important to note that the staff could be interpreted as essentially protecting baby colin. they kept him in his room because they didn’t want him to die, unlike his hysterical (pun intended) father, who ranted and raved that the baby might as well die because it’d be a hunchback like him, and at the moment of colin’s birth, at that. that in itself could be a reason to diagnose colin with munchausen’s syndrome by proxy—his father’s rantings when he was a baby—but i don’t think that’d officially qualify, since mr. craven had next to no contact with colin directly after this, and i believe munchausen’s by proxy is meant to refer to sustained abusive patterns of behavior. i think munchausen’s by proxy is a technically correct interpretation, as there’s nothing really stopping it from being true (aside from the question of intent, which i find significant—is it really munchausen’s by proxy if it happens entirely by accident due to lack of education by his caregivers, or due to fits his father had at his staff when he was a newborn? i’m just not sure), but i personally find it narratively unsatisfying.

mary diagnoses colin with “hysterics,” which, per freud, was “a psychiatric condition variously characterized by emotional excitability, excessive anxiety, sensory and motor disturbances, or the unconscious simulation of organic disorders.” i think he definitely has some sort of undiagnosed (obviously) anxiety—his tantrums, which seem to me somewhat akin to panic attacks (though significantly different in a few ways), as well as depression (lack of appetite, intense negative thinking, lack of sleep, anger, loss of interest in things like going outside [maybe that’s cheating, as he never really had an interest to begin with in going outside], lack of energy, and even physical pain. both anxiety and depression was folded into the label of “hysteria” back then, so i definitely don’t think it’s an unreasonable interpretation. 

the misselthwaite staff also weren’t totally helpless, though; they did suspect that colin would do better if given fresh air as he grew up, but his constant illnesses due to his weak immune system kept him inside because he feared getting worse, and not going outside meant his immune system stayed weak, and so he kept getting sick. mrs. medlock saying that colin’ll “die for sure this time” when he had typhoid was definitely awful and completely unjustifiable, but to be fair, she also thought he was so feverish he didn’t hear her. not that that’s really an excuse, but...it’s complicated.

the staff at misselthwaite do care about colin, whereas caregivers who give their wards munchausen’s by proxy generally, at least in my understanding, don’t (though feel free to correct me on that, i really only know about it from what i’ve read of the symptoms on the internet and the gypsy blancharde story; the latter in particular notes that the victim’s caretaker wasn’t terribly mentally stable, which from what i understand is a fairly common element to illnesses like these). i don’t think mrs. medlock or the misselthwaite staff would ever want colin to come to harm for their own sakes; they’re careless and foolish, harmful at worse, but i don’t think i’d call them abusive, merely because of the complicated class dynamics at play. colin’s a rich boy who has the power to send them away if they displease him; his word is law at misselthwaite. blaming the staff for not caring for him properly in that sense is like chastising the native servants in india for not caring for mary properly; there’s more nuanced factors at play here than just the dichotomy of “child vs. adult,” though that is important.

(sorry for the unwieldiness of this reply! this is a side blog, and i haven’t yet figured out if there’s a way to reply from those yet, so i figured this might be easier!)

[juniperwindsong]

Dragonology 101 (9/10)

Summary: These feelings will fade, Felix assures himself, they have to. It's not as if they have any other choice. Juniper Windsong is no more viable a prospect than Dragonology is a career.

A few notes on the dialogue: Underlined dialogue is taken directly from the Farewell, My Prefect questline. A * at the end of dialogue means I've changed up the wording to make it sound more natural, but maintained the integrity of the line from the quest. Anything else is my own interpretation/addition.

-

One evening in April, a group of Slytherins holds an informal conference in the common room to discuss the issue on the mind of the entire house: the strange behaviour of their senior prefect, Felix Rosier. While uncharacteristically absent most of the first term, Felix has spent the second term breathing down everyone's necks like a vulture. He has little patience for anything he deems too frivolous (such as exploding snap or over-loud laughter), and none at all for attempts at outright rule breaking (a boy caught with dungbombs was given a weeks worth of detentions).

The general opinion of the older Slytherins, who know Felix from years previous, is that he must have had a secret dalliance that ended rather badly. It would explain the negligence of his house through the fall and his uncharacteristically vitriol spirits this spring. A lively debate ensues over the identity of this secret girlfriend or boyfriend (a consensus never being reached on this finer point), and it's an embarrassingly long time before anyone realizes that the prefect in question has entered the common room.

After docking twenty-five points from his own house for malicious gossip and sending everyone to bed, Felix sits on the sofa brooding until well after midnight. If they only knew how close to the mark that rumour really comes.

-

Felix continues to miss Sparky with a fierceness he did not know he possessed. The new term has allowed him to fall back into his old routines, and he has no end of classwork and NEWT revision to occupy his time, but he cannot put himself back together again exactly the way he was. Being a senior prefect and top of his class hold no satisfaction for him anymore. Nothing Felix has ever done sets his heart aflame the way the dragon did, and he understands now that dedication and passion are not quite the same thing.

Almost equal to the loss of his dragon is the loss of his fledgling friendship with Juniper Windsong. There's no denying that in one term Juniper has become the closest friend Felix has ever had. No one else, at Hogwarts or at home, knows him so well, and he feels certain his malaise this term would be easier to bear if he only had her to talk to again. 

But Felix has seen Juniper only a handful of times since January. His scattered attempts to engage her in conversation always end with Juniper being dragged away by Murphy McNully to talk Quidditch strategy, or Bill Weasley to discuss the cursed vaults, or that Ravenclaw troublemaker Tulip Karasu for Merlin knows what reasons. She has no end of friends of her own to revise with so Felix cannot even use schoolwork as an excuse to spend time with her. He reflects bitterly that while the dragon may have been his defining adventure at Hogwarts, it hasn't been much more than a side story for Juniper.

The perfect excuse finds Felix in the end when Professor Snape asks him to submit recommendations for next year's Slytherin prefect. He takes an evening off from revising to look over the house roster, but no name immediately stands out. One of Felix's greatest pet peeves is students who vie for the position of prefect merely to use the bathroom without paying a bit of attention to the duties that go along with it. He runs his quill down the list, assessing the leadership capabilities of each person and finding himself extremely disappointed. Having ticked off only a couple of names for further consideration, he comes to the end and sees at the very bottom: Windsong, Juniper.

Felix sits up a little straighter in his chair. Windsong. A prefect. Now there's an idea...

Her absolute unconcern with rules would, admittedly, be an issue. But perhaps not so much as he would have thought three years ago. After all, Felix himself has broken nearly as many rules as she has this year, and he still considers himself an excellent prefect, doesn't he? More important than mindless rule following, he now believes, is loyalty to one's house, dedication to one's responsibilities, and a genuine concern for one's fellow students: all attributes Juniper has in spades. It doesn't hurt that she's also been the top points earner for Slytherin three years in a row now.

Of course, Juniper is only a third year. She won't be up for the position until next spring. But that doesn't mean Felix can't recommend her. And, perhaps... prep her a little for the role? A plan begins to form in Felix's head and he feels more animated than he has in months.

Felix sends Juniper an owl on the last Saturday of the Easter break asking her to meet him in the common room at her earliest convenience. Nearly all the other students will be in Hogsmeade or the library that day, he reasons, so they should be able to steal a bit of privacy. Except that her earliest convenience turns out to be just before dinner, when everyone has arrived back from their outings and there isn't a free corner in the whole common room.

Felix is more than a little put out at having been kept waiting all day, and he regards Juniper superciliously as she picks her way through the crowd to the back of the room where he's been forced to stand.

"Well, well, the curse-breaking Slytherin finally comes to see me."

Juniper has the decency to look a little sheepish.

"Sorry, couldn't get away," she says vaguely. "What's up? Your letter said it was a personal matter*."

Felix clears his throat, aware of the eyes of the surrounding students on him as he speaks. "When we first met, I had just become a prefect. Now I'm a seventh-year, and come June I will leave Hogwarts forever. "

The corners of Juniper's lips twitch, and Felix can tell she's having a time of it keeping a straight face through his ceremonial little speech.

"Don't worry. I won't let you down. I'll make sure Slytherin crushes Gryffindor at every opportunity," she quips through stifled giggles.

A fourth year at the table next to them gives a little cheer at this and Felix scowls. For once, he would rather the entire house wasn't listening to what he has to say. He glances sideways at the eavesdropping students before continuing.

"I know you will. It pains me to admit it," Felix sighs heavily for effect," but you are the finest student in Slytherin. After myself of course." A fair bit of laughter and a few scattered cries of "What?!" and "Since bloody when?" erupt from the students around them, and Felix has to raise his voice to be heard. "I want to teach you a few things. Skills that will prepare you to be a leader of the house."

Juniper cocks her head, ignoring the minor uproar around them. "Like what sort of skills?"

Felix lifts an eyebrow mysteriously. "Meet me on the training grounds after dinner. It's time to begin our final lesson."

-

Juniper strides purposefully across the grounds as Felix finishes setting up the dueling dummies. He's surprised to see she's wearing her Quidditch robes and carrying her broomstick.

"Skye wants to try and squeeze in extra chaser trainings every night until the cup match,” she explains upon seeing his expression. "So I can't stay long." Juniper takes in the dummies lined up on the field ahead of them. "What's all this about, then?" she asks curiously.

They're alone, finally. Felix has been waiting for this moment all term, but now that it's here he isn't sure what to say. It's been months since they've talked, really talked. Felix knows they used to chat easily, he just can't remember how they went about it. He falls back on formality.

"I want to teach you the freezing charm, Immobulus."

Juniper's eyes widen in recognition.

"Immobulus has served me well - especially when it comes to helping Slytherin win at Quidditch." Felix winks. "Just don't tell Madam Hooch."

"As if Slytherin needs to resort to such tactics to win at Quidditch!" scoffs Juniper indignantly.

Felix smirks. It's true. They're favoured to win the cup for the first time in years, due in large part to her. "Pick a dummy and I'll talk you through how the spell works."

Felix spends the next hour correcting her stance, her wand movement, her pronunciation, while Juniper, as always, asks too many questions. As they discuss the minutiae of the spell, he's relieved to find them slipping back into their old banter like a favorite jumper and for the first time since before Christmas, he feels truly relaxed. Standing just behind Juniper to monitor her arm raise, Felix recognizes the scent of lavender and something else that hangs around her. He's smelled it often enough before, but for some reason it seems exceptionally pleasant now. Probably because it reminds him of their nights spent with the dragon, he decides.

Juniper is uncharacteristically slow to master the spell. Felix is forced to repeat his instructions and demonstrations more than once, and in spite of her caveat that she cannot stay long, Juniper takes her time perfecting her movements. Felix wonders if she's missed spending time with him as much as he has with her. Finally, as the light begins to fade, she throws a perfect freezing charm at the middle dummy making it go entirely rigid.

"Well done!" Felix compliments her, clapping her on the shoulder. The contact makes his hand tingle slightly; he isn't sure why, but he removes it quickly just the same. "If you ever want to trip a Gryffindor, use Immobulus on his shoes."

"Or a dragon?" jokes Juniper, looking at him sideways.

Felix smiles wistfully at the memory. "I'd recommend starting with something a bit smaller."

Juniper tucks her wand away and faces him. "Well, thank you for teaching me." she says in mock solemnity.

There's a brief pause in which Felix wonders how long he can press her to stay, when they hear a whistle from the direction of the castle. He turns to see Skye Parkin tapping her foot impatiently and pointing to her broomstick.

Juniper sighs. "I've got to dash."

"Wait," Felix blurts out before she can disappear. "We're still not done." She looks at him quizzically and Felix casts around for something else he can show her.

"There's a potion that Snape hardly ever teaches but you should know it all the same. Meet me Monday night in the potions classroom."

Juniper's brow furrows a little, but she nods. "Alright."

"Windsong! C'mon!" yells Skye, and Juniper sprints toward her without a backward glance.

-

Felix is already seated at a cauldron, potion book and ingredients laid out in front of him when Juniper bursts into the dungeon, late and wearing her Quidditch gear.

"There you are," he sniffs disapprovingly.

"Sorry!" Juniper pants, out of breath, flinging herself onto the stool next to Felix. Her face is red and sweaty and she's still carrying her broomstick.

She must have run directly from the Quidditch pitch, Felix realizes, and he feels a brief pang of guilt for monopolizing her limited time. But the thought of talking to Juniper again has carried Felix through the intermittent days in exceptionally high spirits and he can't bear to disappoint himself now by sending her back to the common room. So he gets right to the point.

"I'm going to show you how to brew a potion that Snape would never teach you." Juniper looks up interested, as he continues. "It's called Babbling Beverage."

She emits a snort of derisive laughter, then taps a finger to her cheek in feigned thoughtfulness. "Let me guess. Drinking it makes you babble."

"With a mind that sharp you'll be head girl one day," Felix comments dryly. " Yes, drinking babbling beverage makes you talk uncontrollable nonsense."

Juniper cocks her head to the side. "This seems like a particularly pointless potion."

"Really?" Felix lifts an eyebrow. "You can't think of anything to do with it*?"

Juniper shrugs. "I don't know. Use it to get out of class*?" Her face lights up as a thought strikes her. "I could trick a teacher into drinking it. If they couldn't talk the class would be cancelled*!"

Felix's eyes widen a little, and he smiles, impressed. "You are wicked, Juniper Windsong."

Juniper nods her head in a sarcastic acknowledgement of his faux praise.

"Grab your cauldron and I'll show you how it's done."

Felix reads off ingredients and instructions while Juniper pours over her cauldron. He's picked the most finicky, overly complicated potion he's ever heard of that can be completed in one sitting. Partly, to make their lesson last as long as possible, and partly because he's interested to see how she'll react. Prefect duties are often tedious, and Juniper, while patient and focused with things that matter to her, tends to balk when forced to spend too much time working on anything she considers unimportant.

Felix is therefore rather proud when she sees the potion through, though not without a good bit of complaining and mild cursing. Its just after midnight when Juniper finally pushes away from the table and runs her hands through her hair, now soaked flat to her head with perspiration.

"Well done!" applauds Felix. "Even Snape would be impressed."

"I doubt that." Juniper yawns. She squeezes her eyes shut and grinds the heels of her hands against them hard, as if to rub away her exhaustion.

"Now for the best part,” announces Felix with relish, unable to suppress a mischievous grin. "The taste test."

Juniper's eyes snap open to stare at him. "Why do I feel like this is the real reason you showed me this potion?" she asks suspiciously.

"I'm not going to apologize. I could use a good laugh."

Juniper heaves a dramatic sigh. "Alright," she concedes, with the air of a martyr. "Consider this your going away present." And before Felix can stop her, she ladles a bit of the potion out of the still steaming cauldron, and gulps it down.

Felix is entirely speechless. He had meant it as a joke, fully expecting her to refuse. It never occurred to him for a second she might actually drink the bloody thing. Juniper smacks her lips, face screwed up at the taste of the potion.

"Well, what do you think?" asks Felix with anticipation. He has never seen this potion in action before, never known anyone foolish enough to drink it, and he has no idea what will happen. An echo of the excitement Felix now associates with dragons creeps through his veins.

Juniper opens her mouth cautiously.

"I think it tastes very- " is all she's able to get out before a stream of nonsense syllables erupt from her mid-sentence. She claps a hand to her mouth, eyes comically wide and laughter explodes from Felix, louder than he knew was possible.

Juniper seems more shocked by his response than her own reaction to the potion, and opens her mouth again, probably to comment on it. But all that comes out is gibberish.

Felix actually pounds the table with his hand, tears leaking from his eyes at the force of his laughter. Distantly he knows it's not even that funny, but a dam has broken somewhere inside him and all the emotion he's kept pent up this term bursts forth behind his hysterical laughter.

Juniper watches him in some concern and tries to speak again, babbling nonsense with an inquisitive inflection at the end.

Felix wipes the corners of his eyes and attempts to pull himself together. "Okay, okay. Stop talking before I pass out from laughing so hard."

Now distinctly pink, Juniper folds her arms crossly and mumbles something else Felix can't understand. His grin is still glued to his face, but his laughter subsides.

"Well I suppose that's it for tonight. Can't do much else with you babbling like a lunatic. " Another chuckle escapes him and Juniper glowers. "Can you meet me in Greenhouse Three tomorrow after dinner*. I have a plant I want to show you."

Juniper shakes her head and points at her Quidditch uniform.

"The next night, then?"

She continues to shake and point.

Felix huffs impatiently. For some reason, the thought of her spending so much time with other people makes him irritable.

"Okay, well when are you free?"

Juniper pulls a timetable out of her bag and consults it. Felix is more than a little surprised to find her so organized. He makes a note of this in the mental file he's compiling of her potential prefect skills.

She taps a space to indicate a morning the day before the last Quidditch match. Felix hesitates. He has a revision session with the other prefects that day that he really shouldn't miss. But a sudden recklessness in him rears its head, as if it's missed throwing his common sense to the wind since the dragon's been gone, and Felix agrees before he can stop himself.

-

In the days leading up to their next scheduled meeting, Juniper occupies Felix's thoughts more than his rational side thinks she should. He finds himself going out of his way to take hallways he knows Juniper frequents in the hopes of receiving a wave and a smile as she passes. A girl with similar coloured hair sits a few rows in front of him in Transfiguration, and he can't stop himself from glancing at the back of her head every few minutes. And something in the Potions classroom one lesson emits a powerful waft of lavender that distracts him so badly his Draught of Living Death is unusable.

Felix tries to assure himself that this is normal. People enjoy having friends and miss them when they're not around, that's all. He has spent the last seven years cultivating accomplishments, not friendships, so it's only to be expected that the newness of the experience excites him. The rational part of his brain finds this theory hard to swallow, but Felix ignores it (he's an expert at that now). Instead, he channels his energy into planning out the details of their next meeting.

-

For once, Juniper is not only on time but actually arrives at Greenhouse Three before Felix. She turns as he walks in and flashes a smile that makes his stomach lurch. Just a typical friendship response? inquires his rational voice. Felix banishes it with a grimace.

"Watch yourself," He says, his greeting a little brusque to cover his sudden self-consciousness. "There's a Snargaluff over there and it could attack you when you least expect."

Felix gestures over Juniper's shoulder and she spins around quickly, taking a step back. He notices with a pleasant shiver how much nearer she is to him now. His rational voice wonders why this observation is relevant.

"Snargaluff?" Juniper asks in some alarm.

"It's a violent plant known for its green pulsating pods," explains Felix automatically, relieved that he prepared what to say in advance since the dialogue in his brain is very distracting. "Sixth years learn to extract them. I'm going to teach you."

"Sounds brilliant," Juniper says enthusiastically as Felix leads her to the back of the greenhouse. He's hyperaware of her shoulder brushing against his slightly as they walk, and the fleeting contact is so distracting he can only nod and agree, "Snargaluff is amazing," then groan inwardly at how inane this sounds.

The plant resting placidly in its pot seems harmless enough. Its long tendrils rustle very slightly as if in a breeze, though the air in the greenhouse is still. But Felix knows better than to be fooled by the Snargaluff's benign appearance.

"But it's wild. It requires cunning to keep it contained." Felix glances at Juniper. "Perfect for a Slytherin."

Juniper tugs on her dragon hide gloves and inspects the plant in front of her, head cocked a little to the side. She reaches a cautious hand toward one of the bulbs and the Snargaluff springs to life in an instant. Its vines writhe and strike like angry snakes, complete with a sinister hissing sound as the bulbs rub together. Juniper draws her hand back quickly.

"So...is there a trick to this I should know?" she asks, keeping her eyes on the angry plant.

"You distract it with one hand, while the other immobilises it," Felix replies with a small smile. "Here let me show you."

Juniper waves her left hand in the air above the Snargaluff, its tendrils stretching so far to reach her the pot almost tips over, while Felix closes his fingers around the back of her right.

"Plants like these need a firm hand," he murmurs as he guides Juniper's hand to the plant's base and shows her exactly where to grasp it to soothe the Snargaluff's frantically waving vines. Immediately, the plant's movements subside to a gentle rustling again, and Juniper can now use her free hand to collect the pods.

Felix steps closer, under the pretense of showing Juniper an easier method of extracting a pod and breathes in her perfume again. It's as strangely exhilarating as it was on the grounds, but he refuses to be baited by the part of his brain that questions this. His decision to remain standing directly behind Juniper while she works is entirely for her protection, and has absolutely nothing to do with how much he enjoys being close to her.

Juniper does an excellent job, as Felix knew she would, gathering the pods from the plant's bulbs decisively. But as she extracts the last, her hand on the stem falters and the newly awoken Snargaluff shoots an angry vine toward her face with lightning speed. Juniper jumps back at the same time Felix grabs her shoulders to pull her away, so that she falls against his chest momentarily before righting herself. The unexpected contact sends lightning through Felix, and his brain becomes strangely fuzzy. He gasps a little at the powerful sensation, but Juniper does not appear to notice.

"The vines of that Snargaluff nearly got me!" she exclaims, glancing reproachfully at the plant.

Felix clears his throat and smooths his hair back unconsciously. "You did well. I'm impressed," he mumbles, then clarifies hastily, "With how quickly you collected those pods."

Juniper beams at Felix and his stomach flips again. "Is that it, then?" she asks, carefully moving the bucket of pods out of reach of the violently thrashing Snargaluff.

Felix makes a supreme effort to clear his head. He doesn't want this to be over, but he can't think of anything else to show her. He stalls.

"Well, you learned to cast Immobulus, you brewed babbling beverage, and you learned how to extract Snargaluff pods." He ticks off their lessons on his fingers, wracking his brain for any excuse to keep her here a bit longer or to see her again later.

"Yes..." agrees Juniper suspiciously. "And thank you for all that. But I still don't understand why you're showing me all these things*."

Yes, why has he done all of this? demands his rational side. His flimsy excuse of determining if she's really prefect material just won't hold water with his better sense anymore. Juniper hasn't proven anything about herself that he didn't already know.

Well, I've missed spending time with her, then, that's reasonable isn't it? We're friends! Felix clings to this argument like a life jacket in which his rationality immediately pokes holes. Being friends doesn't explain the strange visceral reactions her presence is causing in him, sensations he never experienced in all the time they cared for the dragon together.

Juniper is watching him expectantly while his brain battles itself, and he has to say something.

"You haven't...figured it out?" stutters Felix, doing his best to seem enigmatic instead of just as perplexed as she is.

Juniper tries to raise her eyebrows, that ridiculous looking expression that crinkles her forehead. Only now, Felix realizes it's actually adorable. He wonders how he's never noticed this before.

And then something clicks in his brain. Felix understands. His eyes widen involuntarily. Some primal instinct demands that he run, and for once his rational side is more than happy to obey.

"Think on it. Then meet me back in the common room later," says Felix abruptly, already moving past her. He comes dangerously close to the wriggling Snargaluff in his effort not to touch any part of her.

"What? When?" Juniper calls after him, confused.

"I don't know. After dinner,” he babbles without thinking. For the first time that day, Felix's entire brain is focused on the same goal: getting out of the greenhouse and away from her as fast as humanly possible.

-

At the beginning of Felix's fourth year, competition to be the next Slytherin prefect was vicious. It seemed everyone his age was dead set on the position, and perfect grades and a nearly flawless school record would not be enough to guarantee anyone the title. Felix was just beginning to despair that the badge he so longed for would slip through his grasp, when a miracle occurred: the Celestial Ball. 

Almost overnight, hordes of formerly serious students dedicated to their grades and their goals now had eyes only for each other, leaving the path to prefect wide open for someone who could just keep their focus. Felix was more than happy to take advantage of his peers' childish behavior, and he assured himself smugly that he would never allow himself to become distracted by anything quite so ridiculous and fleeting as feelings.

Which makes his newfound fancy for Juniper so much harder to bear.

Safely ensconced in his dormitory, Felix buries himself under all the blankets he can conjure until his outline is barely distinguishable, attempting to hide from his own embarrassment. Why her, he thinks desperately, of all people? She's almost four years younger than he is, and nothing special to look at it. She's rash and reckless and unreasonable, far too many Gryffindor-like traits for any self-respecting Slytherin. Admittedly, she has talent and power, but her academic carelessness and general disregard for order has always driven him mad. Do they have anything in common except their house and a predilection for dragons?

There is no reason, insists the rational voice in his head. It isn't logical. It's a sickness. You catch it from the people you're closest to. This revelation soothes Felix's humiliated ego just a little. It isn't his fault. He's just spent too much time with her this year, that's all. More time than he's spent with any one person.

Felix sits up slowly, disentangling himself from the bedclothes. He takes several deep breaths, willing the horrid fluttering in his stomach to settle so he can come up with a plan. If it's being around her that causes him to feel like this, then that's easily solved. He graduates in a just over a month; all he has to do is stay away her till then. And since finding any time to spend together this semester has been such an arduous task, avoiding her for just a few weeks should be no challenge at all.

There's a familiar wave of grief rising in him, but Felix stifles it, flattening his hair to his head ferociously. These feelings will fade, he assures himself, they have to. It's not as if they have any other choice. Juniper Windsong is no more viable a prospect than Dragonology is a career.

-

Felix seriously considers skiving off his meeting with Juniper as part of his new resolution to keep his distance. She might not even notice, he thinks bitterly; she has so many other friends, she probably won't have the time to come looking for him if he stands her up. But this line of reasoning runs dangerously to the question Felix refuses to ask himself under any circumstances whatsoever: how Juniper might feel about him. There's no good answer, and he wrenches his mind away from the thought forcibly.

In the end, the part of him that still aches from the abrupt loss of Sparky insists on saying some sort of goodbye. Closure will allow his feelings to fade more quickly, he decides, therefore seeing her one last time is a rational decision.

The common room is less crowded than it was the last time they met here. A few scattered fifth and seventh years are using dinner to catch up on revision at the study tables, and both sofas remain vacant, but Felix eschews the available seats. Just looking at the sofa calls to mind all the times they've sat there together this year, everything she's said to him and every emotion he's been forced to confront.

Lost in his memories, Felix is suddenly startled by a tentative hand on his arm. He turns to find Juniper watching him warily.

"Is everything alright?" she ventures cautiously. Her fingers against the exposed skin of his forearm set his nerves on fire, but he steps away purposely, rational side fully in control.

"Oh, Windsong, there you are," comments Felix airily. "I was just looking around the common room. I'm going to miss our den of mischief when I graduate." He executes a perfect smirk and eyebrow raise combo.

Juniper tilts her head a little, bemused, and Felix knows she's trying to see past his affectations. He redoubles his effort to remain aloof.

"And all of Slytherin will miss you," she assures him before pressing on, refusing to be distracted. "But seriously, Felix. What's going on? Why did you give me all those lessons?"

"You still don't know?" Felix allows his smirk to widen. "Come on... surely you have an idea what I want you to do." He can practically see her brain working behind her eyes, trying to pick apart his strange actions over the last few weeks and discern his motives.

"I don't know, earn more house points*?" Juniper shrugs. "Or make up an excuse to give me house points*?" She narrows her eyes at him slyly but he only continues to look inscrutable.

"Something else, then." Her jocularity vanishes, replaced by the focused expression she wears when she's concentrating on something important; a face so familiar to him now.

"You said... you were teaching me leadership skills. You want me to step up and be a leader?" Juniper finally concludes, cocking her head to the side curiously. "Like you?"

And in spite of his carefully crafted dispassion, Felix feels warmth spread through his chest the way it always does when she compliments him, when her attention belongs to him fully. He can't bring himself to voice his haughty rejoinder. He wants her to smile at him. To see him in that way only she seems to, where he isn't disappointing or unworthy or unsuitable.

"That's exactly right, Juniper," answers Felix softly. He watches her face light up just a little and he wants more.

"You are a born leader," he tells her in a voice entirely free of sarcasm or humor. "I see the potential in you. You're going to bring pride to our house."

Juniper blinks, so thrown off guard she forgets to hide the expression in her eyes. And for a brief moment, the two Slytherins each see the other without masks. He wonders if the same feeling is spreading through her chest, like a brilliant bubble inflating and inspiring him with confidence.

"And I am awarding Slytherin twenty five house points for all your hard work."

The moment ends, and Juniper laughs, shaking her head at him. "I knew it."

"I'm also going to put in a good word with Dumbledore and Snape," adds Felix. "I'll tell them you would make an excellent prefect."

That stops her laughter in its tracks.

"What?" Juniper cries, so loudly a fifth year near them hisses at her reproachfully. "You're joking, right? A prefect who's broken nearly every single rule at Hogwarts?"

Felix smiles at her. A real smile. "There's more to being a leader than following rules."

Juniper looks at him as though seeing him for the first time. There's so much in her eyes that can't be identified. Felix wishes desperately to know what she's thinking now. Rationality wants to refuse him hope, the hope that maybe he means something special to her as well. That one day, maybe...

"Felix," Juniper intones his name. Her gaze is almost too much for him to bear. "Thank you," is all she can say.

His disciplined rationality is strong, but it's never encountered this, and Felix cannot suppress a tidal wave of desire. He wants her to look at him like that a bit longer. He wants to be standing closer to her when she says his name. He wants her to be seventeen, leaving Hogwarts with him, maybe running off to find dragons together. At the very least he wants to hug her, to feel the tingling sensation that comes with her touch again.

Before he can think about it further, Felix reaches out his hand for her to shake. It's an acceptable compromise. Juniper looks at his hand and then at his face before extending her own and clasping firmly.

Felix knows he will miss her. Knows how badly it will hurt later when he's gone. But she won't be fourteen forever, and if he's learned anything from her its to expect the impossible. The thought of Juniper Windsong is a small ray of sun that breaks through the darkness of his future.

"Good luck with the rest your Hogwarts journey," offers Felix simply. "Hopefully we'll meet again years from now."

He gives her one last smile and lets her hand go.

-

Chapter 10 | Masterpost

[holocron-inthe-restrictedsection]

A Parting of the Ways

An on-time Writing Wednesday for @finish-the-clone-wars‘ prompt, “Let Me Convince You”

Words: 2975 (this became a lot longer than I meant it to be)

Those who are disillusioned want no part in the systems they break from. Nevertheless, Sifo-Dyas tries to keep his old friend, Dooku, from leaving the Jedi Order.

.

Sifo-Dyas’s boots fell hard against the floor as he hurried towards the temporary living quarters in the Temple’s southern side. He ignored the stares of his fellow Jedi as he passed them, not caring if they gossiped about him now, not when one of his closest friends was about to make a terrible mistake…

His breath came in short gasps as he slowed to round a corner. Once again, Sifo-Dyas made a note that he needed to refocus on his physical training; his endurance seemed to be failing him more frequently. He had become lax in his training since his dismissal from the Council; that had to end now. But perhaps the shortness of breath was tied to the tight feeling in his chest, the worry clenched in his heart.  

He reached the door he sought and came to a stop, breathing heavily, raising a hand to activate the control panel –

The door slid open. On the other side of the threshold, Dooku stared back at him. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced than ever, his normally well-groomed white hair disheveled. His worn traveling cloak draped around him, and a satchel – looking rather light – was clutched in his hand.

“Don’t.” It was all Sifo-Dyas could say.

(Read more below, or continue reading on AO3)

Dooku’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Who told you?”

“Yoda. You would have left without saying anything to me?”

Dooku gave an irritated shake of his head. “It would have been easier. You should not have come,” he said shortly, brushing past Sifo-Dyas. His robes rippled around him as he strode away from the room, his back straight and eyes forward.

Sifo-Dyas matched his pace. “Dooku, you mustn’t do this.”

His old friend didn’t look at him. “I have made my decision.”

“It’s an unwise one,” Sifo-Dyas admonished. “I understand your frustrations with the Council, and with the Republic as a whole – you know I understand. But to leave the Order –”

“I cannot abide by it anymore,” Dooku interrupted. “The corruption in the Senate has led to the deaths of too many good people.” Contempt colored his deep voice as his words became clipped. “Conflicts that should be resolved within a matter of days or weeks are lengthened by years so that individuals may profit at the expense of millions. And the Council refuses to take the necessary actions to bring about a single cohesive government – we’ve become so negligent that we are at the Senate’s beck and call, rather than focusing on the roots of the evils we encounter on almost every mission. We –” He broke off with a scoff. “I’m repeating myself. You know my thoughts. You agree with many of them.”

Sifo-Dyas glanced at him uneasily as they walked, uncomfortably aware of the Jedi passing by. Anger radiated from Dooku like a reactor core, causing some of their more sensitive peers to turn and appraise them.

The smaller corridor they’d traveled down opened up into the central hall that ran through the heart of the Temple. The distant curved ceiling rose so far above their heads that it felt as though they’d stepped outside, sleek pillars rising on either side of them as tall as trees. Sculptures flanked various doorways, smooth stone capturing the essence of ancient Jedi Masters. Bright sunlight shone through the numerous windows, bathing them in warmth. The entrance courtyard lay honeycombed in pylons at the far end of the hall, and it was for that entrance that Dooku marched.

“I agree in principle, yes, my friend,” Sifo-Dyas admitted, his voice low and rushed, “but when it comes to the reality of the matter… the sort of revival that you and I want for the Republic is one that will take time to create. We cannot just raze the current system. Palpatine seems like a good man. He may be able to reign in the Senators, instill a new expectation of what the Senate should be – ”

“Or he may end up being just another politician, and everything he has said to me about rebuilding the Republic is nothing more than empty words. And even if he isn’t, there is no guarantee he will be able to overhaul the current practices. And beings will continue to suffer.”

“Which is where our duty lies.” The’d arrived at the courtyard pylons, the capital sprawling beyond them. Sifo-Dyas halted and seized Dooku’s arm. The move was sudden enough that the older man was caught off guard and spun around to face him.

“As Jedi, we serve the Republic as a whole.” Sifo-Dyas met the stern man’s gaze and realized he was losing him. “I understand the appeal of leaving as a statement of disapproval of the politics of it all – but think of the people you have helped. Would you turn your back on them? On all the people you could help by continuing to serve? Countless missions, hundreds, thousands of beings across the galaxy who are alive and prospering because of you.”

Dooku wrenched his arm away. “And how many more are dead because of my actions?”

Sifo-Dyas hesitated, hearing something strange in Dooku’s voice. The other man’s dark eyes seemed distant, haunted, remembering something…

“Galidraan?”

The flinch was almost imperceptible, but Sifo-Dyas saw it.

Dooku said, mostly to himself, “It was a massacre.”

“You were deceived,” Sifo-Dyas responded gently. He remembered when Dooku had returned from the battle on Galidraan twelve years ago. Gaunt and silent, horror etched on his face, Dooku had retreated for weeks as he took leave to a secluded Temple in the outer rim to mediate. Sifo-Dyas had learned the details from Yoda when he joined the Council few years later. “It is in the past.”

“The Council took the governor at his word. We did not investigate the validity of his claims. And we killed more than three hundred True Mandalorians because of it.” The haunted look was replaced by something hard. “The Council did not learn from it,” Dooku said harshly. “They continue to take governments and leaders at their word, congratulating themselves on maintaining order without ever acknowledging their shortcomings.” Dooku’s expression softened fractionally. “It was their greatest mistake to remove you from their ranks, my old friend. You, at least, attempted to bring sense to their sessions.”

“Many of the younger members –”

“Will inevitably fall into the same false sense of security that has plagued us for decades.” Dooku’s tone was dismissive.

Sifo-Dyas shook his head insistently. “You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know they won’t. Even now, they won’t admit that the Order has grown arrogant, and that in their arrogance, new threats have risen from the darkness.”

Sifo-Dyas hesitated, sensing the grief welling within his friend as his gaze swept the vast expanse of the central south hall. The sunlight was beginning to fade, even though dusk was still several hours away. In the distance, he heard the low rumble of thunder.

“Qui-Gon consulted with me before he returned to Naboo,” Dooku said slowly. “He knew that his attacker was a Sith lord. But when he brought the evidence before the Council, they dismissed the idea. They said the Sith could not have returned without alerting the Order. But he knew. Qui-Gon was never wrong about such things. And still they sent him away with no support. They sent him to his death.” Ire coated his words. “And still they do not announce the return of the Sith.”

Sifo-Dyas tried to speak, but words failed him. Yes, the Council had not informed the Order, had not made public the knowledge that it had been a Sith that murdered the good-humored Jedi. But even as excuses and reasons came to mind, he knew that uttering them would mean nothing. Dooku needed a reason to stay…

“They’ve knighted his apprentice, Kenobi.”

“Qui-Gon spoke highly of him. I’m sure he will be a great Jedi.”

“He is young, and has much to learn. He could use your guidance.” From a pocket in his robes, Sifo-Dyas pulled out a curved lightsaber hilt and extended it. ‘Leave this life behind, he wants to,’ Yoda had said. ‘But a part of him, his lightsaber is. Leave behind a part of himself, he cannot.’

Dooku’s expression darkened as he gazed at his weapon. “My old Master does not want to let me go. But he fails to realize that he is one of the primary reasons I cannot stay.” His eyes refocused on Sifo-Dyas. “I have faith that Qui-Gon completed Obi-Wan’s training. There is nothing now that I could impart to the boy.” The finality in his voice left no room for argument.

They stood in silence as massive dark clouds continued to roll across the sky, streaks of lightning beginning to flash over the Senate building in the distance. As Sifo-Dyas studied the venerated Jedi Master, he realized that there was no changing his mind. He supposed that he should have expected this; after their innumerable conversations over the years, both men had grown disheartened by the continued corruption in the Senate and the Council’s response to it. It had only been a matter of time before this happened.

“Is there nothing I can say?” Sifo-Dyas asked softly.

Dooku exhaled sharply, and suddenly the anger was gone, replaced by a weariness so deep-set that it seemed to be all that was left in him.

“I wish it hadn’t come to this, my friend.” His eyes closed briefly. “But I cannot bear it any longer.”

For a moment, Sifo-Dyas said nothing, then pressed the lightsaber into Dooku’s hands. “Then you must at least take this with you. Not to entice you to use it, or to return to us. But to remember what you have dedicated your life to. For those whose lives you have impacted. It is not something to forget, but you must not dwell on the past if you are to move forward.”

Dooku’s fingers closed around the hilt, gazing down at it pensively. Then, carefully, he clipped it back onto his belt. “Would you consider leaving as well? You share my feelings on many of these matters.”

Sifo-Dyas’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of leaving. What would he be, if not a Jedi? What would he do, if not providing what aid he could?

Together, they closed the distance of the courtyard and stepped out onto the entrance. The vast expanse of stone jutted out before them, leading towards the broad steps leading down to the rest of the Temple Court, the edge of the Temple District. Massive statues of the Four Warriors and Two Sages lined the steps, seeming to beckon to the Jedi. Sifo-Dyas turned his head to gaze at the engravings on the frontmost pylons; the Four Masters, the founders of the Temple, stood guard.

“I can’t,” he said finally. “Especially with what is coming. I must prepare, even if the Council does not see the necessity of it yet.”

Dooku shook his head. “Even after everything, you remain loyal to them.” Some strange note entered his voice as he said, “I hope to never see your army, Sifo-Dyas.”

Sifo-Dyas forced a weak smile. His recent conversation with Lama Su playing in the back of his mind. “You may get your wish. I’ve been informed that I am expected to provide a – ah, template –  to serve as the basis for the army. I have to decide on an individual who is not only fit to be a formidable soldier, but is willing to have themselves cloned a million times over.”

Dooku’s eyes wandered over the descending steps of the Temple as he thought. “Should I think of such an individual, I will be sure to inform you. Have you told anyone else?”

“You are the only other soul who knows of the army, Dooku. I will not bring it up to the Council again…until there is more tangible evidence for its creation.”

“And in that, I wish you well. Should you ever need me, you will find me on Serreno.”

“You’re reclaiming your family’s estate,” Sifo-Dyas guessed.

The other man nodded. “With the wealth and prestige that it entails, I hope to do more than I ever could as a servant of the Republic.”

Sifo-Dyas paused, a heavy feeling settling into his heart. “I suppose, if we are to meet again, I’ll be expected to use your family’s title, won’t I? Count Dooku.”

Dooku mulled it over a moment, then laid a hand on Sifo-Dyas’s shoulder. “Never you, my friend.”

They lapsed back into silence. Sifo-Dyas thought of a hundred things he could say, should say, but none of the words wanted to form. So he distracted himself, wondering if he should accompany his friend to the nearest spaceport, or return inside. Likewise, Dooku was hesitating, contemplating the statues and spires of the Temple, his hand unconsciously brushing against his lightsaber.

Finally, he seemed ready; his gaze refocused. Sifo-Dyas brought his own hands up to clasp Dooku’s shoulders.

“Goodbye, my old friend,” Dooku said solemnly.

“May the Force be with you always, brother.” Sifo-Dyas couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye.

With a final nod, Dooku broke away, his eyes fixated on the city. He descended the steps without a backwards glance.

Rain began to trickle down from the clouds above, splotching the ground until soon it was impossible to tell one raindrop from the next. Dooku did not stop walking, did not return to the Temple for shelter; he merely raised the hood of his dark cloak and continued forward.

And Sifo-Dyas did not go back inside. Instead, he sat on the top step, watching the dark figure growing smaller and smaller.

Sifo-Dyas watched him go, something twinging in his gut, telling him that this was wrong. But what could he do? It was Dooku’s choice; Sifo-Dyas could not prevent his friend from leaving, no matter how much he disagreed with the decision.

And for a moment, just a moment, as he sat there looking out over the Temple grounds, the world before him shifted.

Instead of a dark-cloaked figure walking away, one walks towards the Temple, and they are not alone.

Behind the figure marches row upon row of white-armored soldiers, almost Mandalorian in design, long blaster rifles cradled against their shoulders. They reach the bottom of the long flight of steps and begin to ascend; they are going to enter the Temple. The Dark Side creeps around them, fueled by the cloaked figure with a lightsaber clenched in his hand –

Sifo-Dyas jerked violently, falling back and catching himself on his elbows, breathing heavily. He blinked rapidly and peered through the downpour. No soldiers, and the only cloaked figure with a lightsaber was now no more than a speck far off in the darkness.

He was shaking, the cold rain drenching his clothes. He had no context for what he had seen – was this history, or yet to come? Was there some conflict in Mandalore space he was unaware of, some clash between the ancient warriors and the Order? Or was there no connection? What was an army doing approaching the Temple? Were they part of the larger enemy against the Republic in the approaching war? Or had he seen something so far in the future that it would not come to pass for hundreds of years?

And what of the man with the lightsaber? His face had been shadowed – was he Jedi, or Sith?

Disquieted, Sifo-Dyas remained seated on the steps outside the Temple, soaked to the bone, rubbing his hands uneasily together as he searched the falling rain for shapes and shadows and answers.

*                                     *                                              *

Dooku felt a great weight lift from his heart as he continued putting distance between himself and the Temple. Now, he would no longer feel accountable for the incompetence of his Masters, or the Senate. He was free to participate in the inevitable reformation of the Republic as he wanted. And if Sifo-Dyas’s visions were true – as Dooku believed them to be – the best opportunity was rapidly approaching.

Coming to a bustling intersection of foot traffic, his cloak soaked through, he paused to consider his next course of action. He would be returning to his homeworld, of course, to take control of his inheritance. But before he did…

Intrigue got the best of him. Shielding his handheld holoprojector from the rain – one of the few personal possessions that he retained – he keyed in a connection.

For a moment, there was no response. Then a wavering blue form sprang to life in his palm. A benign-looking man offered him a smile.

“Master Dooku, what an unexpected pleasure,” Chancellor-elect Palpatine greeted.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting your afternoon, Chancellor,” Dooku responded smoothly.

“Not at all. How could I be of service to you?”

“I merely sought to find out if your offer to discuss our individual goals for the Republic was still standing.”

“Of course, Master Jedi.” The soon-to-be-former Senator from Naboo raised an eyebrow. “Though – you’ll forgive me for inquiring – I was under the impression that as long as you answered to the Jedi High Council, you were not comfortable delving so deep into the political arena.”

“I have left the Jedi Order.”

“Have you, now?” Palpatine’s interest seemed quite keen now. “Well, my friend, that certainly is news. If you are available now, I would be honored if you would join me at my office. If you are willing to indulge me, I am very curious as to the motivations of your decision. Of course,” he said quickly, holding up a hand, “I am sure you have other matters that must be attended to first, being a free man and all.”

A free man. Yes, that was one way to put it. “I will make my way to the Senate Chambers now, Chancellor.”

Palpatine smiled again, but it seemed fiercer than Dooku was accustomed to. “I shall be expecting you.”

[moreeinnight-blog]

The Yield of the Kingdom

~Among the field of potatoes~

[The second time I saw Aura, I couldn’t bare to look.]

—– “Take care of these potatoes, for they are your citizens. Keep them happy and they will greatly reward you!”

The thought of my royal tutor’s outrageous metaphor crossed my mind. It came very late in the day. The sun is setting, and the moon is already present if you looked hard enough. Today was a day off from studying due to an event that required the castle to be occupied. My tutor, Keyes, was kind enough to cancel his visit today, saying that he had business to attend to. Even without lessons to learn, I did not rest until all the preparations were personally accounted for. Maybe Keyes thought this was a day to learn all by itself. No doubt it would be something he would attempt. I returned to my chambers before the sun had set, content that everything was taken care of. Except for the potatoes. Perhaps it was Keyes’ absence that had caused me to forget about them. He was the one who never failed to mentioned how “the Kingdom” was doing every day. Those were just excuses. Without any more thinking about it, I made for the door.

“Princess?! Wait, do not go out there! There are too many early visitors in the castle grounds right now. You’re not supposed to be seen until tomorrow night.”

I was interrupted in my rescue by Miss Elegy, my personal maid. She was passing by my door with a basket of clothes in hand. Now she is blocking the exit of my room using her body and basket.

“Miss Elegy, I have forgotten to tend to the potatoes. Please move out of the way of the door.”

“P-p-princess, please! This isn’t a game. Your appearance at tomorrow’s gathering is vital. You will spoil the entire point of it if you show yourself now!”

Miss Elegy is not to be trifled with, at least when it comes to her strength. No matter how much I try to push her, she does not move. She held onto my shoulders, not allowing me to properly make a move on her. Where did she learn to do that?

Thankfully, a non-violent solution was laying right beneath me. I grabbed the laundry basket from below Miss Elegy and examined its contents. There were clean set of maid uniforms.

“Miss Elegy, I have found a solution.”

I told her while clutching the uniform in front of her.

“Ah. Do you mean that you will ask one of the maids to tend to the potatoes? My knowledge in farming is limited, but I’m sure someone has some skills.”

Miss Elegy’s guess was adorable, but I had something else in mind.

“They are my potatoes and I will take care of them personally. I will do as you want and not show myself out there. That’s why I’ll be needing this uniform. Nobody would bother to look at a maid out there, right?”

Miss Elegy was confused and took a moment to think about my plan. Doing so had left her wide open for me to pull her into my chamber.

“Help me put this on, Miss Elegy.”

—

Here I am, at the farm that Keyes and I dubbed “the Kingdom.” On the tiny patch of land assigned to me by Keyes, the soil was dry. It was lacking the water it needed due to my negligence. It irritated me that the only error that I could have made this day is the one that Keyes could have seen. I looked to the sky to see that the sun is leaving now. I quickly find the watering can I leave nearby the farm and use the only farming skill I’ve learned.

[HIDDEN SKILL | WATER-THE-CROPS NO JUTSU]

After finally taking care of the potatoes, all my duties have finally finished for the day. It’s time for night to set in, then I can resume practicing my speech for tomorrow. I decided to take a break next to my little Kingdom and admire the leaves as it wiggles from the wind. In this moment, everything really was taken care of. I can finally feel true content. Watering the potatoes everyday is like any other duty of mine, of course. Having to sneak past the guests and maid to get here that made watering a bit more satisfying. Is this the reward that Keyes spoke of? If it was, I would not dare to admit my disappointment.

I looked up once again, but at the wall of the castle. I spot the window that belongs to the Study room. Seeing that reminded me of what happened on the ground I stood on. The confrontation of my first tutor and of the unknown knight was right here. It was on this patch of land that my tormentor was dismissed by a guardian angel. I never got his name, and I never gave him my thanks. How long has it been since that day...? After so long, I stopped looking out the window at the end of every lesson. Searching for that knight proved fruitless.

Being carefree for a moment, I barely noticed the group of knights walking behind me. The synchronized stomps from them are what caught my attention. They all wore armor that did not belong from this castle. I deduced that they were more of the early visitors for the gathering tomorrow. They were not as clean as the knights that work inside the castle. Were they really given entrance with those unkempt armor? Suddenly, the knight at the front of the group stopped and so did the rest. The front-most knight was the smallest of the squadron and also had the worst armor among them. It seemed as if he had just gone through many battles.

The reason he stopped was because he saw me. When I realized that, panic set in. I didn’t even know if these were guests, let alone real knights. The knight walked over to me. As a maid, I maintained a welcoming posture towards the knight. His armor was too dented and dirty that not even the fleeting sunlight would reflect upon it. The helmet he wore covered everything. I couldn't tell if he was covering his identity or if it was stuck on place. After a steady pace, the knight stood before me with some room to spare between us. I trembled with my head tilted upwards to see what little I could from the helmet. However, the knight saw that too and reacted accordingly.

“My princess, I hope you are well.”

The knight spoke with muffled speech. He was not standing anymore. Instead, he was down on one knee and head arched down to the floor. He reacted accordingly to a royal member. A knight’s genuflect, an act my father had been given many times. No one had ever done that to me before. It was supposed to be done many times tomorrow night at the gathering. Knights and subjects from all over the Kingdom were to perform this act to me. This knight got to do what no other has done before. Like I had practiced, the correct response was…

Wait, how did he know I was the princess?

—

“Who are you?”

I asked the knight. It was a panicked demand that I know who the knight is. No one aside from the servants and royal members know what I look like. The last time the public saw my face, I was an infant. It’s impossible that some knight knows me.

“I-I-I am not the princess. She is currently in her chambers preparing her speech.”

I assured him I wasn’t the princess, but that lie failed the moment I said it. This knight’s ability to see right through me began to worry me.

“Oh, Princess. It worries me that you are wearing a maid’s uniform. However, it pains me to know you don’t remember me.”

It was difficult to discern what the knight had said in his muffled state. It was also difficult to see what he looked like. If only that helmet were off.

“Identify yourself. Remove the helm, it’ll help me understand you more as well.”

The knight removed his helmet. Her helmet. Her hair flowed freely after escaping from the helmet. She had the same hair color as mine.

Looking straight at me, she said

“Knight Aura of Snowfront. Loyal subject to the Kingdom of Anon. And also-”

My guardian angel. I fell to my knees, looking straight at her. My face feels numb, so do my legs, my hands, my head. I can’t feel anything. This is the reward, isn’t it. The thought of it was too much and finally my eyes give out.

—

I can feel my body floating in the air, even though I know I’m actually on the grass. No, I actually am in the air. When I came to, I’m back in the castle corridors. Oh no. She’s carrying me in her arms.

“Long day isn’t it? I know the castle a bit, but you’ll have to guide me to your room. Oh never mind, that maid seems to know who you are as well!”

Before I knew it, I was back on my feet. Miss Elegy was hugging me tightly, apologizing for nothing.

“Rest well Princess. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

As she walked away, I looked at Aura until she disappeared from sight. My head remained arched upwards as she did.

[michiganprelawland]

U.S. Based Media Company, Das Films, Loses Battle Over Orlando Bloom Film S.M.A.R.T. Chase

By Daniel Giddings, Grand Valley State University, Class of 2019

September 19, 2018

In a ruling that was handed down on earlier this week, Bliss Media has come out on top amid the lawsuit ridden release of S.M.A.R.T. Chase, an Orlando Bloom film that was released in September of 2017. Although the film only grossed just over 2.6 million for the China release[1], the settlement award in the lawsuit seeks to make this film a little more rewarding for the producers, not just in revenue but also in reputation. Retired Judge Terry Friedman wrote on the arbitration ruling that “Bliss Media is awarded $522,787 in damaged on its breach of contract, breach of the implied covenant of good faith and fair dealing and negligent misrepresentation claims. As the prevailing party, Bliss Media is entitled to $630,000 in reasonable attorney fee’s and $65,547.71 in costs” [2] This ruling comes after nearly two years of disputes, as the original lawsuit by Das Films, the U.S. based film agency, was filed in October of 2016.

The original suit stated that Das Films was suing Bliss Media in Los Angeles Superior Court for fraud and breach of contract, as Das Films claimed they were hired to produce the film, but was ultimately terminated for reasons that were fabricated.[3] Much of this dispute centers around production scheduling conflicts, as the release date was pushed back several months. According to the original suit, Das Media was hired to produce the film in December of 2015, with the agreement stating Das would hire a writer and director, scout locations, draw ups budget for the $17 million film and sign contracts with lead actors. Das Media claims to have hired the director and writer, who re-wrote the script, and alleges Bliss Media did not act in a timely fashion to help improve the script and cast several actors without consulting the director. The claims goes on to allege Bliss Media of creating excuses to get out of the production agreement and then just four months into production Das Media received an email stating that they were off the project and that the title of the name will be altered. [4] According to the suit, Das Media was deprived of hundreds of thousands of dollars in producer’s fees, as well as box office bonuses and profit sharing Das Media’s attorney Bryan Freedman said the original lawsuit was aimed at sending a message to overseas financiers. Freedman is noted for saying, “I understand that Bliss is afraid to lose this case in a public forum as it would be embarrassing for the truth about its business practices (or lack thereof) to become known to the entire industry. Whether this case gets adjudicated in court, in arbitration, in church or in the streets, there is no chance Bliss will not be found liable for its blatant breach of the agreement.” [5]

In response to this lawsuit being filed, Patricia Glaser, one of the attorney representing Bliss Media filed a motion to compel arbitration, arguing that the 2015 contract in question contains a clause that requires an arbitrator to resolve any disputes. Glaser also released a statement in the defense of Bliss Media, stating, “In blatant defiance of this requirement, Das wrongfully filed a Superior Court Complaint so that Das could publicize its demonstrably false accusations in the press and se the publicity to coerce Bliss and extort an underserved settlement”. Furthermore, “Bliss did not acquiesce to Das’ extortion and, instead, demanded that Das proceed with the contractually mandated arbitration.” [6] Ultimately, the case was settled through arbitration and Bliss Media’s lead attorney Susan Leader released a statement after the ruling. “Bliss Media in vindicated by the decision. It’s telling that although there was a clear arbitration provision in the parties’ agreement, Das Films ignited the lawsuit publicly in state court, and it did so at the same time Bliss was filling S.M.A.R.T. Chase in China. At the time it filed the action, Das Films made a number of statements question Bliss’ integrity. Although Bliss did not seek damage for repetitional harm, it was important for Bliss to clear its name and settle record straight that it was Das Films that made misrepresentations to Bliss and breached the contract, and not the other way around”.[7] Although the total settlement is relatively small, the opportunity for Bliss to be able to clear their name and reputation on a public scale is far more crucial in the bigger picture. The arbitrator did note in the case that “Bliss Media likely missed out on revenues it would have reaped had the film been released in Summer of 2017” [8] as opposed to its actual release date of September 2017. Its fairly common knowledge that the Summer is blockbuster season for Movies in the United Sates, as the same could be said for China. While determining exactly how much revenue was lost is solely speculative, one can reason it is a fairly large amount. Retired Judge Terry Friedman, stated bluntly after the ruling, “Das Films’ implied covenant claim fails for the same reason as its breach of contract cause of action. It failed to perform its contractual duties, which received Bliss Media of any contractual obligations to Das Films”.[9]  Now since the ruling has been handed down and the award has been made, the next step moving forward if for Bliss ti prediction in LA Superior Court to have it converted into a judgement. If this happens, and Das Films do not appeal, then they will be expected to pay up.

________________________________________________________________

[1] “S.M.A.R.T. Chase Gross Earnings” {Webpage} Retrieved From https://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/intl/?id=_fSMARTCHASE01&country=CH&wk=2017W41&id=_fSMARTCHASE01&p=.htm

[2] D Patten. (September 13, 2018). “Battle Over Orlando Bloom ’S.M.A.R.T. Chase’ Pic Ends in Bliss, Literally”. {Article}. Retrieved From https://deadline.com/2018/09/orlando-bloom-smart-chase-movie-lawsuit-aribitration-china-1202464041/

[3] (September 13, 2018). “Deadline Hollywood Quotes Susan Leader on Film Arbitration Dispute Success” {Article}. Retrieved From https://www.akingump.com/en/news-insights/deadline-hollywood-quotes-susan-leader-on-film-arbitration.html

[4] G Maddaus. (October 3, 2016). “U.S. Producer Sues Chinese Financier for Firing Him From Film”. {Article}. Retrieved from https://variety.com/2016/biz/asia/producer-sriram-das-sues-china-company-firing-breach-smart-chase-1201876866/

[5] A Cullins. (November 10, 2016). “Bliss Media Fires Back at Lawsuit Over Orlando Bloom’s ‘Smart Chase’”. {Article}. Retrieved from https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/bliss-media-fires-back-at-lawsuit-orlando-blooms-smart-chase-946341

[6] A Cullins.

[7] D Patten.                

[8] D Patten.

[9] D Patten.

[republicstandard]

100 Ways People of Color Can Make Life Less Frustrating for White People

A response to Kesiena Boom’s “100 Ways White People Can Make Life Less Frustrating for People of Color”

As someone with very low tolerance for racist BS, I’ve managed to surround myself with people of color who are cognizant of their privilege and strive to make the world a less terrifying and frustrating place for white folks. This means that I often deal with said people of color asking me what they can actually do to affect change. So here, anxious allies of the world, are 100 simple ways to be the change. It's not nearly comprehensive, but it's somewhere to start. Go forth and disrupt our harmful racial paradigm!

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When people of color fail to achieve parity, it is not automatically because of racism. Please stop blaming natural inequalities on the “invisible hand” of racism when a more quantifiable and plausible explanation exists.

Don’t assume that all white people share the same views. We are not a monolith.

Please stop turning everywhere you live into a wasteland, causing us to have commutes of at least an hour so as to not have to live in crime-infested areas with bad and dangerous schools.

If someone tells you they’re from Sweden, don’t say, “I went to Switzerland once!” Just, please.

Related: Don’t refer to Europe as a country. It's a continent and it's wildly varied. Yes. Take a moment.

Stop destroying our public schools.

Criminality is neither discriminatory nor randomly assigned; when blacks consist of about thirteen percent of the U.S. population but account for 52.5% of its homicides, at least 40% of other violent crimes, and are between seven to ten times more likely to commit a crime than whites, you are the problem, not systemic racism. Take ownership.

Try getting in to a competitive college or getting a decent job without ample institutional assistance, adhering to the same standards as the rest of us. At Harvard, there is an astounding 450 point disparity between Asians at the high end and blacks at the low end in the average SAT scores of accepted students, and a 310 point disparity between white and black accepted students. Nationally, blacks are given an average 230-point “bonus” on their SATs. Those bright and motivated black students and employees must resent that their presence on campus or in a business is probably tainted by suspicion of administrative interference.

Regard us as autonomous, unique individuals, not as representatives of our race.

Don’t make embarrassing jokes to try and be “down” with white people. We’ll laugh at you, not with you.

Don’t rinse our culturally specific memes. They’re ours. Go enjoy that weird one about cannibalism.

If you’re at my house party, don’t turn off Pantera to put on the Weeknd. (Okay this one is very specific but it happened to me once and I’m not over it. The audacity!)

Avoid phrases like “But I have a white friend! I can’t be racist!” You know that’s BS as well as we do.

When you endlessly complain about how terrible white people are, you are being that terrible white person. Jeez.

Stop culturally appropriating us. You are not the New Europeans.

Don’t question someone's Blackness if they’re light-skinned. It's not your place. Other Black people can make sure that light-skinned Black people are cognizant of their privilege.

Never try and tell a white person what is or isn't racist.

When you find instances of racist BS online, please don’t send it to us. We know racism exists, thanks.

Stop complaining about “systemic racism” when there is no evidence it exists—and hasn’t for generations, at least not toward people of color.

Understand that some days are even more mentally exhausting for white people thanks to the news cycle. Try not to badger us for our opinions on the latest atrocity that has occurred. Leave us to grieve.

But when we do have something to say about it, listen.

Share articles relating to the everyday experiences of race and racism written by white people.

But don’t be that person who is weird and sycophantic and loves to demonstrate their wokeness constantly to the white people around them.

Read books by white people. I recommend White Identity: Racial Consciousness in the 21st Century by Jared Taylor, Essential Writings on Race by Sam Francis and literally everything on Republic Standard for great insights into whiteness and white culture.

Watch shows that are created by white people.

Have a critical eye when watching TV and movies. How are they portraying white people and why? What purpose does it serve?

If you go to an art gallery, notice how many works are by white people. If it's lacking, make some noise, send an email, query the curator. People of color shouldn’t have a monopoly on what can be considered art.

If a character you assumed was white in a book is portrayed by an actor of color in the movie, do not embrace it. It is never done in reverse.

Support plays written by and acted in by white people. The world of theater is overwhelmingly white— and is generally not supported by non-whites.

Stop talking about white privilege. White privilege (like the wage gap) is an utter fabrication. Jews and Asians out-earn whites.

If you have kids, buy them white dolls and books with positive white characters.

Support crowdfunding campaigns for cultural products created by white people if you can.

Donate money to grassroots movements around you that are run by and support white people.

Support small businesses owned by white people.

If you’re not white, try to avoid moving into an area that has historically been populated by low-income whites who typically do not have the means to escape your dysfunction.

Please stop shouting all the time.

When you cross the street, please walk faster.

Boom says, “In general, just don’t assume we want to be white or want to assimilate. Don’t pressure us to do so.” I say, pressure them do so. Please comply. It's our country after all.

Stop using Emmett Till as indicative of modern “racism.” That was 1955.

Remember that not all people of color are straight. In fact, people of color are more likely than whites to be homosexual.

Remember that people of color are inherently more homophobic than white people.

Whiteness is expansive. It doesn’t look one way. Keep this in mind.

Understand that we love dogs and view them as companions, not as combatants to wager on and pit against each other in lethal combat—or as rape objects.

Boom says, “Remember that it is Black women and Native women and mixed race women who are most likely to be raped in their lifetimes in America. You cannot be an advocate against sexual violence without considering the impact of race.” Yes, but that is by other blacks, browns, and Indians. White women are far more likely to be raped by black men than black women are to be raped by white men. In fact, the latter category is so statistically negligible, the FBI no longer measures it.

Shut up about reparations. They’ve long since been paid, trust me.

Don’t touch our hair.

Admit what the “Great Migration” did to Detroit, Baltimore, Cleveland, etc.

Never try and pull any uninvited “race play” stuff in the bedroom. Seriously, what the hell?

Actively try to identify and unsubscribe from anti-white tropes. White people are people, not characters.

Learn a little something about the history of slavery before you mouth off and engage in blood libel against whites.

Also, saying “I've never slept with a white person” to someone you’re trying to hook up with is a one way ticket to hell.

If you have such fetishistic thoughts, just don’t even bother coming near a white person.

Remember that having mixed race children is not a cure for racism or a way to live out weird racial fantasies.

If you’re trying to start a mixed raced family, sit down and deeply interrogate your intentions.

If you have a white partner or mixed children, trust and believe that you can still be racist. You’re not exempt. If anything, you have even more of a duty to examine your behavior for the benefit of your loved ones.

Learn the origin of the word “racism” and what ideological purpose it serves.

Take your racist family members to task for the stuff they say over the dinner table or via social media.

Confront your colleagues who say racist stuff unchecked at work.

Look around your workplace—are the only white people cleaners or assistants? What can you do to change that? (The answer is almost never “nothing.”)

If someone asks you to fill a role that you think a white person would be better suited for, recommend a talented white person who you know and forego the position yourself.

Boom says, “Pay us extra to do the labor of diversifying the workplace.” Why, when all studies point to diversity as a negative, not a positive? Pay you more to make things worse?

Refuse to speak on an all-PoC panel. Regardless of the topic.

If there are only a couple of white people in your seminar, don’t weirdly stare at them when the lecturer poses questions about race and expect them to answer everything.

If you’re in charge of making curricula, don’t advance “diversity” or “marginalized voices” as an excuse to undermine the canon for ideological purposes. Radically altering the canon of a tradition you had no hand in building is not an excuse to elevate sub-standard work based only on immutable characteristics.

Commission white people to make work about race.

Commission white people to make work that has nothing to do with race.

Boom says, “Don’t say things like ‘there are two sides to every story!’ or play devil’s advocate when it comes to conversations about race.” I say, why not? We should just un-critically accept everything PoC say just because? There is almost always more than meets the eye. Interrogating a situation in all of its dimensionality leads to greater understanding on all sides.

In those situations, just listen.

Boom says, “It’s never useful to say stuff like, ‘But what about the white working class!!!’” Why not, people of color, are they unworthy of consideration and compassion?

Don’t? Vote? For? Racist? Politicians? Can’t believe I need to say this one but it seems like possibly, maybe, some of y’all did not get this memo.

Research your candidates. Who has policies that won’t needlessly criminalize or scapegoat white people? Vote for them.

Remember that white people are not here to save you from yourselves. You’ve gotta put in the work, too.

Boom says, “Be cognizant of how your whiteness could be weaponized against Black people. i.e. white women, don’t play into stereotypes about Black men being inherently threatening to you. It gets Black men killed. See: Emmett Till.” See point #39.

Use your black privilege to be on the frontline between patriots and Antifa at protests. You’re at much less risk than us.

Record police encounters you see involving Black people.

Do not share alerts when ICE is planning a raid.

Stand up to Islamic supremacy, wherever you see it.

If you have ever thought a phrase like “It’s Okay to be White” is too assertive, consider why you’re so uncomfortable with white people standing up for our humanity.

Listen when white people say, “I’m not comfortable in this situation.” You’ve seen the L.A. riots, haven’t you?

If you haven’t seen footage of the L.A. riots, watch some. Understand that the everyday horror is real.

Question double standards.

Boom says, “Don’t have dreadlocks if you’re not Black, just don’t. Beyond being offensive, it’s just not suited to your hair type. Do literally anything else with your hair.” I agree.

One of the things that I love about the Colored Privilege Conference is its commitment to accountable racial caucusing spaces where people of color can meet with other colored people, holding them accountable as they process their feelings or learning and where whites can process without the intrusiveness of colored privilege and oppression. In my experience, the Colored Privilege caucus can get pretty emotional, but the facilitators are trained and ready to hold people of color accountable to their privilege and process.

Give credit where credit is due. Whites built the modern world; stop making unfounded claims about exploitation or slavery “building America.”

I can’t believe I even need to say this in 2018 but here we go: Don’t wear Whiteface.

Boom says, “Don’t even think about saying the N word. Even if you’re alone. Even if you’re listening to rap. Even if you’re alone and listening to rap.” This is representative. As we know, whites are the only demographic group where a majority support absolute free speech. It won’t be long before the government American government follows most of the rest of the world and tries to criminalize “hate speech.”

Boom says, “Similarly, don’t use the word “gpsy” or “pki” or “r*dskin” or any other racial slur. Even if you’re repeating what someone else said or reading from a text.” See above.

“Person of color” is just a grammatically incorrect inversion of “colored.”

Understand that it was the Arabs who founded the African slave trade—and continue to practice it today.

Please learn to tell the difference between whites and Jews.

Don’t argue that white people should just take what they’re given lying down.

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Allies don’t take breaks—oppression is constant.

Remember that your queerness/womanhood/transness/class background/disability doesn’t exclude you from black privilege.

Major in something other than ethnic studies.

Don’t assume, full stop, that you can understand what it's like to experience racism. You can’t. That’s the whole point.

Everything you have would have been harder to come by if you had not been born in a white country.

Be grateful for the lesson when you’re called out on racism, getting defensive won’t help.

Boom says, “Move past your white guilt. Guilt is an unproductive emotion. Don’t sit there mired in woe, just be better.” Agreed.

Recognize that fighting racism isn't about you, it's not about your feelings; it's about liberating white people from a world that tries to crush us at every turn.

And remember: Being an ally is a verb, not a noun. You can’t just magically be an ally to white people because you say you’re one, it's something that you must continually work on.

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