#because either they want to or because they don't know they're wrong

[softlypaintedseafoam]

hi hi hi <3 I haven't been much on tumblr, aside from checking some notifications from time to time, so I have taken a moment to come bother you and ask which romance trope you think would fit ace, law, sabo and sanji. friends to lovers? enemies to lovers? roommates? the possibilities are endless

I think Law would definitely get either friends or enemies to lovers, because in both there's a reluctance to allow himself to fall for this person, one in fear of losing one of the few people he trusts (again), and the other in fear of being hurt by human greed and cruelty (again)

angeeeellll!!! i hope work has been treating you well! you read that smut on the school wifi, you're entitled to it on your break >:3c

now... assigning romance tropes to one piece characters? 💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾 definitely a fun topic of discussion because i have many, many thoughts!

ace | friends to lovers/childhood friends to lovers + slow burn

the best part of childhood friends to lovers with ace? you've seen him at his ugliest and still said 'it's you; you're the one i want'

but standard friends to lovers works too because of the trust factor. there is no serious relationship ace will truly take part in unless that person knows the truth about who his father is. it isn't fair for you to be in a relationship with him and not know

i know a popular thought in the fandom is ace is freak who flirts and sleeps around a lot, but considering his levels of self-hate and resentment towards his father i personally don't think he indulges in sexual activities often if at all

considering the prosecution of pregnant women and children young enough to be his father's child, even just an entanglement with ace is enough to get someone executed and just the idea of it happening to you hurts and fills him with guilt

he resents his father enough and i think the fear of having his own children prosecuted at birth due to their bloodline scares him too much to risk fucking around and finding out. what scares him even more would be the thought of his own children coming to resent him for it

so you definitely need to be friends for a relationship to occur with him and friends for a while. the longer for his affection to take root but even then it will take a while for the relationship to happen. you just might have to confess to him

for ace, ignorance is bliss. he'll definitely delude himself into sublimination (a defense mechanism in psychology where a person relegates what they believe are are unacceptable into a more palatable framework to maintain a particular relationship/situation so it doesn't become something they deep inappropriate)

you're just friends, you're like family, whatever it takes to make himself think his feelings are platonic and that they're nothing deeper, that your feelings for him aren't anything deeper

realizing he's in love with you and that you're in love with him is something too painful because he doesn't think he can be or should be loved

law | friends or enemies to lovers

they both suit law for the reasons you said

he isn't one for hooking up with random strangers that are one night lovers

there needs to be a level of trust for law to start a relationship with someone whether it is something was gained through working together as captain and crewmate and having similar interests...

or through an enemy greater than any beef the two of you have forcing the two of you to work together. maybe you're a marine and now that law is no longer a warlord, you wish to bring him to justice

sadly that pesky devil fruit of his has you working with him to take down the emperor kaido lest he stabs or otherwise disposes of your heart which he confiscated

now in the land of wano and forced to work with one another, a begrudging sense of admiration and respect blossoms between the two of you and even worse for your position, affection

but you know the feelings are wrong

law is a pirate and there's no way you can be together

he's a criminal who has done committed too many wrong doings and you are a marine, you're on completely diverging paths

law knows this himself. there's too much on the line to trust you, let you in even deeper than you already have... it's a risk that's too intimidating to act on

before the raid on onigashima, law gives you your heart back saying you don't have to be part of it

what you do next? it's all in your hands

sabo | annoyance to lovers + forced proximity

emphasis on sabo being the annoyance because that boy does not listen to anybody

he constantly breaks rank to do as he pleases on the battlefield (what's worse is that he leaves almost always unscathed), he'll hang up the transponder snail mid-call constantly and he didn't remember your name for a month

if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was doing it on purpose to torment you but it's just how sabo annoyingly is

(well he certainly does tease you from time to time, you know that much is certainly on purpose)

unfortunately for you, as a revolutionary and one often assigned on missions with the man, you're constantly around each other. life clearly does not favor you

but one day, it happens

it happens and you immediately spiral

one particular day you're forced to do some menial task together and you crack a dry joke that has sabo laughing harder than he ever has and you think he looks beautiful

beautiful

sabo has always been objectively attractive but beautiful? you claim temporary insanity but it gets worse

his hair suddenly looks more blond than gold and his eyes that are normally unsettling are more charming. even that mouth of his is suddenly more charming and you want him to kiss you senseless with it

koala has had many sleepless nights due to your crisis because you refuse to fall in love with him

(that night you have a dream that you were married with kids, softly arguing that the kids looked more like the other parent. you hate your life)

sanji | not actually unrequited love

you love sanji but sanji loves... well women in general but he definitely prefers nami over anybody else

this is a truth you have long since come to accept even before the crew had been separated by the warlord kuma

you're in love him, he pines for another and you're perfectly fine living with that constant pain

perhaps it makes you pathetic to still love sanji regardless but you can't help how you feel. it's fine as long as you don't burden him with your feelings, right? it's your love no matter what how sanji feels

the thing is... sanji loves you too

unfortunately, his own pride of self (or lack thereof) tends to get in the way of him realizing how you feel

you deserve someone ten ー no, twenty ー times the man he is

someone strong and kind and not fickle and irrationally generous even at the detriment of himself and the crew

meanwhile you believe sanji is the kindest person in the world with more love in his heart for his fellow person than he knows what to do with

it inspires you actively to be a better person, treating someone with the kindness you believe sanji would give them

there's a bit of a betting pool going on amongst the straw hats to see how long it will take for you to start dating

well, sans luffy. he already thinks you're together and no one is correcting him any time soon it seems

nami | fake relationship

the two of you aren't actually dating, you're just friends. but when you're out and about, nami gets tired of guys hitting on her insistently even when she says she isn't interested so she just tells them she's dating you

and it's fine, you're always willing to help a friend out

so you hold hands, walk arm in arm and maybe even exchange a peck on the cheek or two to really commit to the bit

it's fine

of course, it would be easier on your heart and soul if you weren't painfully into her too... but nami is, well look at her, anyone would be lucky to have her

so you'll take what you can get and be her on demand fake lover whenever a situation calls for it because what are you if not her best friend?

and you're the best 'best friend' in the world, mind you

little do you know nami is also down horrendous for you and she thought that maybe inciting her plan of declaring you her partner would help with getting you to realize she's been waiting for you to profess your undying love for her many islands back

it's a genius plan, or so she told usopp

usopp just wants the two of you to sit down and talk already; the man is tired

pudding | marriage before love

much like ace, i think pudding will only truly be herself around someone she's known for a while and trusts completely

due to her mother's treatment, her complex surrounding her third eye will be a constant reminder that she is a freak in her own eyes. a disgusting monster that can't truly be loved

if you were married off by big mom, she'd go through many lengths to keep you from learning about her third eye even if you are on amicable terms because she just knows that the moment you see her third eye ー the real her, you will find her disgusting and won't even be able to bring yourself to touch her

it's for the best you're unaware

it's completely possible for the two of you to have a long-lasting marriage where you never find out her about her third eye and she can only pray any children you have come out normal. human

of course, life seldom goes the way we plan and you'll somehow learn of her third eye

i could potentially even see her using her memo memo powers to erase the memory. to maintain the illusion that she is charlotte pudding, your perfect and loving wife with no flaws other than she's in love with her work on cacao island, a total busy body

but eventually enough will be enough. she will slip up and not be close enough to immediately change your memories and you'll see her third eye and pudding will have to brace herself for your reaction

... and then you say her eye is beautiful

[tarotlexa]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS- my personal experience with the signs!

disclaimer: ASTROLOGY GOATS, DO NOT COME FOR ME. i don't like to view myself as a professional astrologer, thus i will be warning you that this is based on personal observation of the people that i've met over the years so pls don't take it personal! i've been studying astrology since 2015 but i might be wrong about some of those takes, don't hold it against me and much love as usual <3

(btw this is for placidus/whole sign, can be applied to your big 6/chart ruler and so on)

aries: libras (their sister sign) are commonly associated with being unable to make decisions, but really it's those mfs who will refuse to make one LMAOOO super indecisive people when it comes to crushes/friends and so on. can also have a weird relationship with faith for some reason. great at making things with their hands.

taurus: this sign gets sometimes (rightfully) associated with laziness/procrastination and gluttony and while they love their sweet treats, they're also some of the biggest hustlers that i've ever known. very prone to switching careers, especially if they're a taurus sun (which makes sense to me because their sister sign is scorpio, the sign of renewal and transformation). i'm gonna also mention that sometimes i don't like how my taurus moon friends treat their relationships as they have a tendency to put the blame on others a tiny bit too much.

gemini: LET ME PREFACE BY SAYING THAT I ADORE GEMINIS, most of the close friends that i have had throughout my life had some gemini placements. you guys are so incredibly fun, energetic and wise when you want to be but DAMNNN stop trying to make drama happen lmaooo they love creating drama or fights when they're bored. can also lack self awareness (esp if gemini sun). somebody give those people a padded room, paper and pen and they'll come out with the wildest takes you could ever hear from another human being. their creativity is UNMATCHED if they have a gemini+5h placement in their chart. let them cook

cancer: i'm going to hold your hand when i say this: RELATIONSHIPS WILL NOT SAVE YOU, no, not even that relationship. stop chasing others so damn much and start chasing yourself first wtf, also cancer men need to stay away from me (my previous evil twink best friend has a cancer stellium) because they're so manipulative it makes you feel insane. cancer women are so comforting to me tho, even when they're moody.

leo: they looove to read about themselves and that's why most of them are really into astrology (we listen and we don't judge), also i feel like the whole "natural born leader" doesn't always pertain to them. they can get placed in that role but most of the time they won't like stepping into it, they prefer to have fun for themselves more than anything else (very similar to gemini on this aspect imo)

virgo: you know how virgos get associated with being germ freaks? i believe they can become germ freaks after a very intense illness in childhood, virgos are prone to getting some sort of disease while growing up and that instills them with an amazing standard of hygiene and prevention. i don't find the germ freak stuff to be particularly relatable to virgo suns, i'd say it could be more of a virgo rising thing. also virgo risings are so pretty to me, literal representation of the maiden

libra: i'm ngl they can be quite the deceptive ones of the zodiac but when they lie it's usually for a reason (can't excuse the cheating tho, sorry <3): they think that by lying they're upholding the peace. usually libras have some of the worst home lives, their parents are either divorced or on the brink of divorce and from a very young age libras are expected to keep the peace at home, usually by being their parents therapists. also i find cheating to be more common with libra suns or risings rather than moon libra. i must also say that they can be great friends, they're usually the biggest supporters ever when it comes to loving on friends and family, they will always give you a shoutout!

scorpio: i might be biased here because i am one of them. scorpio gets a reputation for being this mysterious dark entity but they're some of the funniest people ever to me lmao (although i must say that our sense of humor isn't for everyone), especially scorpio sun signs. also we need to learn how to stop gatekeeping our hobbies and talents, especially when it comes to art or spirituality.

sagittarius: NERDS. i know that it's not really as common to see sagittarius get associated with nerdy stuff but when you think about, their sister sign is gemini (ruled by mercury) so sometimes they can be the biggest nerds on the planet. they usually love old cartoons/videogames and can be very self absorbed at times imo

capricorn: MY BABIES, so misunderstood. they're so so so hated but they're one of the sweetest kindest souls to walk this earth. unfortunately they cannot seem to keep their haters away, especially if they're a capricorn rising since saturn is their chart ruler (this makes life harder for most of them but it also depends on how well aspected their saturn is alongside other indicators). i will forever be their lawyer, please give them a chance.

aquarius: ngl, one of the most misunderstood signs when it comes to astrology and maybe that's why they're some of the biggest skeptics on earth (probably more than virgos). one of my previous best friends was an aquarius moon and my dad is an aquarius stellium so please be aware that i might be biased about your sign: personally i love you but you guys can be hard to love, not because of what you are but because of the way you distance yourself from people. one day everything is sunshine and rainbows in your close relationships and the next day you hate them LOOOL regardless i still think that you're one of the most interesting signs. also the gang ain't neurotypical, my bro got autism (at least in my experience with this sign)

pisces: i know that the word "healer" can be frequently associated to them but it's for a good reason, even if they're not healers in the traditional sense they can assume that role within their friend group (they'll always be the ones who make sure to include who has been left out or their shy friends because they know what it feels like to be excluded), sometimes that role can degenerate into martyrdom, especially if they're a pisces venus or pisces moon or pisces 12h.

as always, thank you for reading! <3 let me know if any of these made sense to you lol

[dilfdater420]

#dilfdater420 : SCENARIO--what if you and Cecil Stedman were sworn enemies with similar jobs (both rallying assets for your own interests, so you'd be the leader of the "Evil GDA" (lol)) and you were finally caught? headcanons and drabbles under the cut

TAGS: no beta we die like ... i shouldn't say... gn reader (they/them pronouns are used when referring to you). "___" is used in place of y/n. "<>" means timeskip btw. cecil hates you. you love antagonizing him. interrogation scene. enemies to two individuals who understand each other, one begrudgingly so.

Cecil feels like a weight has been lifted of his shoulders.

The two of you have been in a heated battle of loud atrocities committed on each other. You're the one behind the scenes of plenty of villain operations, guiding them, gathering intelligence, making deals with devils—which is actually something you and Cecil have in common.

The similarities between you both is something Cecil adamantly dislikes. It makes him think about himself too much. His logical sense of what's right and what's wrong is almost the same, the only thing separating the both of you is your individual philosophies. His, the fact that humanity deserves to be protected, yours, the complete annihilation of mankind is due.

You both do anything to act in accordance with your beliefs.

When captured, extensive measures are taken to make sure you, not only never leave being the same person you were when you came in, but also reveal all of your secrets to the GDA.

The difficult part of this is that you're not an easy target. How do you threaten someone who's ready to die for their beliefs?

Unfortunately for Cecil, he has one last idea—but that means having to talk to you.

—

"Sir, they're not complying with anything we've thrown at them."

Cecil sighed, head in his hands, elbows pressed against his desk. This whole couple of months has been exhausting.

There's no reprieve from you, anything Donald could think of, his department could think of, hell, even he could think of, none of it would work. You were so set in your morals, prepared to die to prove a point.

"Of course they aren't, Donald. Of course."

"Our team that's been trying to crack them," he pauses, "they don't know what else to try, sir."

"And we have tried water boarding, right?"

"Yes."

"White torture?"

"Hm."

"Attempted death by a thousand cuts?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck." His frown lines deepen. "I really thought that would work."

After a moment, Cecil piqued up. "Let me talk to them."

Donald's eyebrows raised. "Are you sure, sir?"

"If nothing else has worked, I might as well. Plus, I have an idea that might scare them into working with us."

<>

"What an unexpected surprise!"

"Well aren't you a ball of sunshine?" Cecil deadpanned.

You smiled. "You haven't seen anything yet, outside of these chains my shine is atomic."

He hated this. He didn't like the way you looked into him, as if you knew him. "Listen, ___, you aren't getting out the easy way. Either you work with us or we keep trying."

You kept staring at him.

"What are you trying to gain with this? Is the damnation of an entire race of people this important?"

You raised a brow, "Is you going the lengths you do every day to protect the human race important? Then you have your answer."

He grunted, "What if it wasn't? What if I do it because no one else will?"

"Then it still has merit, importance—same as my job."

"No, what you do isn't a job. It's not noble, not a sacrifice."

"I've sacrificed."

"At the expense of a stupid dream." He leaned onto his knees in his seat, fists clasped together.

"Just as stupid as your determination to resist against Viltrumite rule."

Disregarding the fact you somehow have that intel, "Do you want humankind to be enslaved? I thought you wanted us all dead?"

"Of course I don't. I'm just pointing out the obvious."

You peered into each other's eyes.

"We're more similar than you like to admit."

You've touched him.

"Bullshit."

"Don't dismiss it, if you're anything like me, you've thought about it."

He broke eye contact.

"We both act in drastic ways for opposite beliefs. We are two sides of the same coin."

"No, I am nothing like you."

"You recall Mr. D.A. Sinclair do you not? He's employed under you."

"Don't you dare try to compare that—"

"He should be rotting in jail. He's a mad man, irreparably ruined many lives of mankind that you so undoubtedly protect. Why employ him?"

"His reanimen are—" Cecil cut himself off.

Your smile deepened. "Cmon, you can say it."

Cecil stayed quiet.

"I'm not criticizing you, Cecil. When I find useful pawns for my work, I exploit them too."

"We are not the same."

"I'm the worst reflection of yourself that you will ever see."

Cecil stood up, walking to the door, fists balled. "This isn't over, ___."

"I hope not. Good talk, Global Defense Agency Director."

He stopped at the door for a second before continuing. "Fuck you."

He slammed the door behind him.

a/n: Cecil knows he's a pos, but to what extent?

I love scenarios where characters have to question their actions and if they're really at the level of merit they ascribe them to. Dusttale Sans fics prepared me for this day.

I would've added more exposition in the middle, but the dialogue should speak for itself. Same think with the reader and what tone to employ. I don't want to speak for you guys more than I already do lol.

Hope you all enjoyed. Lemme know if you'd like a part two of this. I have ideas for the reader and ways to mess Cecil tf UP.

Oh and if you ever wanna request something I have guidelines/boundaries up now. I also have commisions for those that like might like my writing

Thanks for reading <3

[blubushie]

my pettiest gripe with the tf2 fandom is that none of them actually know shit about male archetypes in gay culture.

no, spy who is pushing 50 at the youngest is not a twink. sniper isn't a twink either. i'd say even scout isn't really a twink either. he'd be a twunk if anything.

no, medic's canonical build isn't a bear. he is a wolf. you have to be visibly fat to be a bear. heavy and engie are quintessential bears, so at least that's the one part the tf2 fandom gets right.

You have to be visibly fat and hairy to be a bear. Otherwise they're just chubs if they're only fat. So idk if Engie counts as a bear cuz I can't remember if he's hairy as fuck too or if he's just a chub.

This isn't a TF2 fandom thing this is just a "people who don't know shit about the gay male community making judgements on male characters" thing. It's everywhere, not just TF2. It's just more easy to notice with this fandom because the vast majority of the main cast are men and the vast majority of the shipping is male/male.

I do think it's fair to call Scout a twink because he's slim and lacks body or facial hair and looks like he's 17 or some shit. I've met twunks, I been a twunk, and he's nowhere near muscular enough on his model or in the comics to be a twunk. Calling him a twunk is an insult to twunks who put in the work to build that muscle. What I don't like is how so many of these people use "twink" as a fucking insult when what the really want to do is call him a faggot. And some of them even call him that anyway.

Tbh I don't even consider this a petty gripe. You're right to have a gripe about it and I don't think it's petty. As a man who's spent more than enough time in the gay community (because I am a gay man lmao) I really don't appreciate (or even feel safe) sometimes in this fandom because of how they behave about gay men. I don't like the weird fetishisation I see (but I can make a pass for a lot of them as many are young and/or trans men who just don't have that experience yet, and they'll probably stop doing that weird shit when they get more experience in the gay community). But what I don't tolerate is our identifiers being used as insults by people who haven't walked the walk, y'know? Feels like stolen valour or some shit. Some of these people need to call the wrong man a twink in that tone and get their teeth knocked in for it cuz this shit's gotta stop. There's a rule about labels—you use them for yourself, not others.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

as much as i enjoy a lot of the disco elysium fics out there, one thing i (and apparently a bunch others) noticed as a running trend is a lot of people get a lot of the socialist aspects of DE very wrong, especially when it comes to district 41 and harry's character.

i specifically dislike how many portrayals of district 41 is too... cop-ish. which, fair- much of the structure of the rcm is meant to mimic the actual police and comment on how being policemen can damage the humanity of a single person. we genuinely cannot ignore the aspects of police brutality present in DE.

but at the same time, did everyone just FORGET the lore-building focused on how some parts of the rcm come from descendants of revolutionaries? specifically in district 41, the conversation we see with captain pryce points to him checking if some members of district 41 are ready for another revolution? he, without a doubt, confirmed it for the characters we know, which speaks volumes on what torson, chester, jean, judit, and harry are like. we don't see this side of them often because they're busy tormenting harry (and i don't mean to say they're good cops either btw they're shit) but i do think there's more to them than what we've seen.

i WISH people could explore this more, especially for harry! the way he finds hope in the world despite everything. how it was important for him to escape that moralist mindset and become more compassionate for others, especially in the socialist routes. i want people to explore what it means for kim to enter this kind of arena as well, since he's more reluctant about these things (altho was still radicalized by harry) and yet he's entering a district with a revolutionary descendant.

idk! i need to replay DE for me to delve in deeper w the district but it still shocks me that the socialist parts of DE are forgotten or not looked into in DE fics that focus solely on the cop side of things... anyway if you have socialist/political de fics to recommend pls give them to me thanks

[thewickedbohemian]

I see both sides of this (not saying either is right, but not saying non-bigoted aspects of either are wrong) as regardless of what I myself ship (as sometimes ships I make fan content for are just "hey this pairing would work really well with this particular song or fanfic plotline") on the one hand I get your point about even the journalists talking to Oliver etc. and as a Warehouse 13 fan I've seen the full extent of how it feels when 90% of the content fans make for a fandom seems focused on one ship (and I've even felt a little of that with 911 with e.g. it seems like half the 911 AU tag is just centric on Buddie even when it's an AU setting (like I've seen fusion!AUs with 911 and shows I didn't think had fandom overlap with it like, well, even Warehouse 13) I would really like to see the versions of other characters in) on the other hand I see Buddie shippers' arguments and while I get the revolutionariness of Bucktommy being canon on-screen and all that how some people (both in reblogs to this post and on other posts) talk about the wider Doylist impacts of their relationship especially in these troubled political times just kinda makes my anxiety flare up a little. Shipping should not be used as political praxis or w/e (it makes me feel like they're trying to guilt-trip and it's not just about this ship it's about e.g. other fandoms of mine and people who bitch about why if a certain character has multiple love interests people aren't shipping them with the one that's a different race because "do you know how rare interracial pairings are") and if you'll pardon my EXAGGERATION FOR EFFECT (have to all-caps that as some people on at least Reddit if not here don't seem to get when I do that) some Bucktommy shippers make it sound like if that ship continued canon until wedding or w/e then the moment of the kiss would send out some kind of magic rainbow wave that retconned the now-current administration out of office and took away an amount of negativity and hate in the world just shy of the line of what any less than would make the world as much of a boring utopia as the true Good Place from The Good Place.

Seriously, if Eddie somehow eventually was revealed to be canon into guys I'd half want a "Buck has two hands" situation if it'd make sense for the characters (as 9-1-1 does lead into a show with a canon throuple) but not because I particularly ship all of them together (my 9-1-1 OTP actually involves completely different character altogether), because maybe if it wasn't an either/or the fandom would fucking settle things down a notch as "everyone wins" (except for the queerphobes)

no because what do you mean the guy buck was dating for a full season is back and they made out on screen and discussed getting back together mere episodes after they broke up, where buck couldn’t stop thinking about him, so much so, he took to baking constantly even at work. but all anyone can talk about, even journalists talking to oliver, is eddie.

and i’m saying this in a derogatory way. not a fun way. because this is an actual canon mlm relationship we were seeing on screen and there is little to no attention on them until it’s about them breaking up or how buddie can happen.

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi there, I just wanted to give my two cents on the follower count if you don't mind because I've seen your recent advice post.

I found you after multiple works of yours were reblogged by another big yandere author I follow. Moreover, I frequently see you interacting with popular blogs, whether it's praise, feedback, or simple exchanges.

What I'm trying to say is that I find it naive at best and arrogant at worst to basically tell a small blog "all you have to do is post often" when you've been consistently boosted by other popular blogs. If someone checks the stories you've linked as an example, a significant amount of reblogs and likes come from said blogs sharing your work. Maybe you didn't realize it, or you just wanted to omit it on purpose, I don't know. But other writers don't have the privilege of their work being presented to a larger audience in order to build engagement. Some post every day and still don't get as much interaction.

This is not meant to take away from your skill or quality of work, but I find it odd not to mention that your burst of popularity was majorly caused by your networking first and foremost. I've seen your blog mentioned by multiple authors these past months. Good for you, don't get me wrong, but let's not pretend your post frequency was all it took for people to find you. That's what other blogs are lacking, not versatility or motivation.

honestly, you're totally right to call me out anon. When I look at my stats in the most basic form, it feels like more posts = more engagement. But it's easy to overlook the massive impact that networking has had on my account. Like my very first post all the way back in November broke a thousand notes entirely because a creator I love and follow was kind enough to repost it.

I don't really have any advice for networking. It's not something I consciously do I guess? I just interact with creators I admire and they're kind enough to reciprocate. And it's not something I do with the aim of growing my following either. As you pointed out, I kind of overlook it in terms of engagement.

Social media is... complicated. I've been naive in not acknowledging the luck that I've had. I'm thankful for literally every single reblog I get, I promise you.

[jetii]

Good Graces

Chapter Two

Tags/Warnings: Fives being goofy, good old fashioned brotherly teasing, uh oh there's plot in this fic??

Chapter WC: 7,199

A/N: Tysm for the love on chapter one! I did a major restructuring on my taglist so if you're tagged in something you don't want to be, feel free to fill out the form, and I'll fix it next time.

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Senator Amidala's apartments are located in one of Theed's tallest buildings, on the highest floor available. The building is well-kept and decorated in the style that Naboo prefers, all ornate and gilded and luxurious. They're on the main floor of the apartment now, the Senator having excused herself with General Skywalker in tow for a brief meeting upstairs, leaving Fives, Rex, and the rest of the squad on the main floor. 

Jesse and Kix have taken up residence on the couches, and the others are scattered about the room, either seated or pacing, their attention on the windows. Fives leans against the wall near the stairwell, watching as the sun sinks low, bathing the sky in hues of gold, red, and orange.

It's been an uneventful day. The peace talks won’t begin for until tomorrow, and Senator Amidala had spent most of the afternoon engaged in meetings with the Queen and the senior leadership of Naboo’s parliament. General Skywalker had accompanied her. Fives has been at her side all day, with Rex and the others on patrol, and nothing's happened. It's been quiet.

Esmé had barely spared him a glance. She'd seemed content to keep her distance, sticking to the Senator's side, and Fives hadn't wanted to push his luck. So, he'd stayed away. The most he'd gotten was a second of eye contact when the Senator had excused herself to her meeting.

He's still reeling a bit from their earlier interaction. He'd been half-convinced he'd ruined any chance he had with Esmé until she'd opened her mouth and made that little comment. Now that he knows there's a sense of humor beneath all that indifference, he can't wait to see what other things he can coax out of her.

And it's only a matter of time, really. There's not much she can do to avoid him, and the longer they're forced to be together, the harder it will be for her to keep up the act. All he needs is an opening. One slip-up. A crack in her mask. That's all it will take.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to tonight. Maybe he could talk her into having a drink with him, get her to loosen up a little. He may have stumbled over his words like a complete idiot this morning, but he’s been working on his material all afternoon. Fives has a couple of good ones he can pull out, and they should get her laughing. If he can manage that, then it'll be smooth sailing from there.

"I'm bored," Jesse complains loudly, dropping his head onto the back of the couch and letting his limbs go limp. He stretches his legs out and kicks his boots up onto the coffee table.

"What else is new," Fives replies absently, his eyes still on the window. He can just make out a ship in the distance, a tiny black speck in the sky. One of the senators arriving late? A civilian? It's too far away to make out any details. He watches it for a moment longer and then looks away. Probably nothing. "You're always bored."

"Because there's never anything to do," Jesse grumbles.

"That's because we're on guard duty," Kix tells him.

"Guard duty is boring."

"Boring is good,” Tup says. He sits on the other end of the couch, his helmet resting in his lap, a cloth in his hand. "Boring means nothing's going wrong."

"And when nothing’s going wrong, everyone stays alive." Kix shrugs. "I'm not complaining."

Jesse groans dramatically. He lets his head roll to the side and stares at Fives, his brows furrowed. "Please tell me you're not going to spend all week moping because Esmé hates you."

"She doesn't hate me," Fives says, bristling a little. He's not moping. He's...planning. There's a difference. "She's just—"

"Unimpressed," Jesse cuts in.

"Disinterested," Kix offers.

"Indifferent," Tup suggests.

Fives' frown deepens. He looks between them and folds his arms across his chest. "Are you done?"

They're all silent for a moment.

Then Kix speaks up again.

"Icy."

Tup gasps, a delighted smile stretching across his face. "Icy is good."

Jesse points a finger at him and grins. "It is."

"She's not icy," Fives snaps.

They're laughing now, and the rest of the squad has started to join in. Even Rex has cracked a smile, though he seems to be trying to hide it as he looks over his datapad. Fives glares at all of them and turns away, his cheeks hot. He can't help the indignation that wells up inside of him, even though he knows they're just teasing.

"What?" Jesse asks, holding his hands up in surrender. "We’re just saying, if you're gonna spend the week trying to get her to like you, you're going to have a hard time warming her up."

"I hate you," Fives sighs. "All of you. I should've volunteered for the perimeter shift instead."

There's a noise from the stairwell, and Fives' head snaps around. Esmé stands at the top of the stairs, her gaze flicking over the gathered men before landing on him. Her expression is unreadable, her hands folded in front of her.

He straightens immediately, his spine going stiff, his mouth going dry.

Shit. How long has she been there? How much had she heard?

Esmé looks away from him and makes her way down the staircase, her steps measured and sure. The long flowing dress she was wearing before has been replaced with a set of form-fitting civilian clothes, the dark fabric clinging to her waist and legs. The vest she wears is long enough to reach her mid-thighs, but he can clearly see the blaster hanging from the holster on her belt. Her dark hair is pulled back, a few strands falling over her forehead, and her eyes are hard and alert as she sweeps the room, taking in the squad. She doesn't say a word.

The men watch her, all of them falling quiet as she walks into the center of the room, her boots barely making a sound against the polished stone. Her eyes are sharp and clear as she meets each trooper's gaze in turn.

She doesn't seem impressed, her gaze narrowing on the few that aren't in full kit, and her frown deepens as she takes note of Jesse's feet propped up on the coffee table. He quickly puts his feet down and sits up straight. She watches him a moment longer before moving on.

She's not happy. Not that he really expected her to be. If there's one thing Fives knows about Esmé, it's that she's protective of Senator Amidala, almost to the point of paranoia. He supposes he would be too, if he were in her position. Being responsible for someone's life isn't easy, especially when that someone has a habit of attracting trouble.

He can't even count the number of times Senator Amidala's been targeted by enemies both foreign and domestic. She's managed to evade capture nearly every time, with the help of the Jedi, but he can see how it would wear on a person after years of it. No wonder Esmé seems to have developed a stick up her ass. He's pretty sure it's the only thing holding her together.

Esmé stops beside him and folds her hands behind her back.

"Is the perimeter secure?" she asks.

"Yes, ma’am," Rex replies. If he looks uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he doesn't show it, his voice as professional and polite as ever. "My men have done a sweep of the building and surrounding area. No signs of hostiles, and no indication that anyone has been here besides the cleaning crew.”

Her shoulders relax slightly at the reassurance, her expression easing. She doesn't look pleased, per se, but she seems less likely to strangle someone. 

Her eyes flick back over to Fives and linger on him for a long moment. He straightens instinctively, his chest puffing out a little. Her brows rise slightly, her lips pursing, and then she's looking away.

"Good," Esmé says, nodding. "There are rooms upstairs if you wish to retire for the evening. They've already been prepared."

The men don't move. They exchange a few glances, and a few of them shift in place, but no one takes her up on the offer.

Esmé's gaze flicks over to Rex. She waits, her eyes searching his, and then tilts her head towards the staircase, her lips pursed. Rex seems to understand. He nods.

“Dinner will be served in three hours,” she continues, as if nothing happened. "The dining hall is through that door. There are bathrooms off the hallway to the left of the stairs. Do not enter the third floor. If you require anything, I or one of the other handmaidens will attend to you.”

Her voice is hard, commanding, and the men are quick to obey. A few of them nod, and the others murmur their agreements. Esmé doesn't waste another breath. She turns on her heel and heads towards the entryway, her boots clicking against the floor. She's halfway across the room when Fives speaks.

"Hey, wait," Fives calls after her.

It's impulsive. A spur-of-the-moment decision, one he regrets the second the words leave his mouth.

Esmé pauses, her entire body tensing, and he can feel his brothers around him freeze. They all stare at him, their mouths agape, eyes wide. He sees Rex out of the corner of his eye, his head shaking furiously, and Jesse has a wide, manic grin stretched across his face.

"Yes?"

"I... Uh..." Fives clears his throat. He can't seem to remember the line he'd practiced in the mirror a hundred times before. Or the other dozen lines he'd planned for if that didn't work. He swallows. "Where are you headed?”

She tilts her head. "Why do you care?"

"I'm... charged with the safety of everyone in this building, ma'am," he says. It's a lie, technically. His job is only to keep the Senator safe, not the others, but it's close enough. He hopes she'll accept it. "It's my job."

She glances at him over her shoulder, her lips pursed. He's expecting her to call him out on his lie, to tell him to shove it, but she doesn't. Instead, she studies him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Her gaze flickers briefly to his brothers and then back again.

"And?" Esmé asks.

"And," Fives says, lifting his chin, "I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but if you're going outside, I'm going to have to come with you. Security protocol."

It's a bold move, and he can tell the others think so too. Rex gives him a warning glare, and Kix opens his mouth, likely to say something to shut him up. Fives ignores them. He just holds Esmé's gaze, waiting for an answer.

She turns around fully and stares at him, her jaw working. Her eyes are fixed on his, and for the first time he can see the flecks of color among the hazel. He's so caught up in the details that he nearly misses the moment she decides, her expression going from carefully blank to irritated.

Then she sighs.

He feels his brothers collectively sigh along with her.

"Fine.”

Fives blinks.

"Really?" he asks. He glances over at Rex, who's got a hand covering his face. When Rex notices his stare, he shakes his head, his eyes wide, and Fives looks away.

"I suppose," she says, and he's almost certain there's a trace of amusement in her voice. "But be warned. I'm not one for idle conversation."

"Oh. Well, uh... That's alright.” He's quick to straighten, adjusting his belt and tugging at the collar of his blacks. "Me neither."

Another lie. Fives can talk for days if he wants to, and he knows she probably knows that, too. But as it is, she's agreeing to go outside with him, and he's not about to give her a reason to back out now. So if she wants silence, he can give her silence. Probably.

"If you insist," Esmé says. She inclines her head, beckoning him closer, and his legs move without his input. "Come on. I have places to be."

She gives him a once over, and then turns away, walking towards the entrance. Fives tears his eyes away from the sway of her hips and glances back towards the others. He shrugs helplessly. Rex shakes his head again. Tup gives him a thumbs up.

He can't resist a grin.

This was easier than he'd thought.

She's going to eat her words. By the end of the night, he'll have her laughing and chatting with him like they're old friends. Or, well. He's not expecting miracles. But a friendly conversation wouldn't be so bad, would it? Maybe some banter. A tease. Something. He's not picky.

"Don’t wait up,” he whispers, his hand cupping the side of his mouth. He gives the room a two-fingered salute and turns away, jogging after Esmé.

He can feel his brothers watching him, can practically hear the whispers and jokes they'll be making as soon as he's out of earshot, but he can't bring himself to care. It's not every day he gets a shot at a girl like this. And now that she's decided he's worth her time, he's not about to give up.

Esmé grabs a canvas bag from a hook on the wall and activates the door panel, stepping out into the hallway beyond. He follows her without a word, and she doesn't so much as look at him as the doors slide closed.

They don't speak as she leads him down the hall and into the turbolift, both of them standing as far away from each other as possible. Fives tries not to fidget, his fingers tapping against his thigh, his gaze fixed on the numbers slowly decreasing above the door. She doesn't look at him, and it's all he can do to not look at her.

She's still as pretty as the first time he'd seen her, though she looks a little more human in the dull light of the elevator, less like the goddess he'd been imagining. But that just makes her real, and that, in turn, makes him want her all the more.

He sneaks a glance at her, his eyes trailing down her body. The black pants cling to her legs and hips, the long-sleeve shirt underneath her vest doing the same. Her hair's messy, but it suits her, framing her face and drawing his attention to the curve of her neck. She's beautiful, and it's all he can do not to stare.

Fives tears his gaze away and fixes it on the wall, and his heart jumps to his throat as he sees the reflection of her watching him closely. She looks him up and down, her brow raised, and then looks away, her arms folded over her chest.

He forces himself to look away, his palms going sweaty. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

He'd been expecting the silence. Had thought it might even be nice.

He hadn't counted on being so hyper aware of her.

He'd wanted to impress her. Show her that he's more than just some clone trooper. And he'd thought the best way to do that was by being as casual and confident as possible. Now he's starting to think that was a mistake. She might not mind the silence, but he's going to lose his mind.

He has to say something, though he’s not sure what. He knows what he wants to say, what he's dying to say, but he also knows that it would be a terrible idea. He could ask her questions about herself, but he doubts she would be forthcoming. He could make a joke, or tell her a funny story, but he's not sure she would appreciate it. He could just stay silent, but that's a little too much like giving up, and Fives has never been good at that.

It’s the longest turbo lift ride of his life.

He's still trying to figure out what to say when the doors finally open. The lobby is empty, save for a lone security droid stationed near the main entrance. Esmé nods at it as she steps off the lift, and it waves back, its photoreceptors fixed on her and ignoring Fives completely. She heads towards the exit, her steps sure and confident, and Fives is quick to follow.

The air is cool as they step outside, moving past the troopers on either side of the doorway and into the courtyard beyond. It's a pleasant evening, the sky clear and darkening rapidly, the moon already visible overhead. It's a little colder than usual, a light breeze ruffling his hair, and he takes a deep breath, savoring the fresh air.

As soon as they pass the gate, Esmé turns left and walks briskly towards the city center, not even sparing him a second glance, and he’s forced to jog to catch up with her. 

By the time he reaches her side, she's already made her way halfway down the block, and the crowds of people milling about part for her like she's the Queen of Naboo herself. He's half-surprised they don't salute.

"I can defend myself," she announces, her voice firm.

Fives jumps. He turns to face her, surprised, and sees her eyes dart toward him before looking forward again. She doesn't slow down.

"Excuse me?" he asks, baffled.

She sighs.

"I said, I can defend myself," she repeats, enunciating every word as if speaking to a child. Her tone is sharp, impatient, and it's a clear reminder of just how much she resents having him tag along. "I don't need you."

"That's not the—"

"Don't insult my intelligence, please."

Fives bites back a snide remark and swallows hard, his throat bobbing. He can't help but be a bit offended, though. He hadn't even had the chance to finish his sentence. What is it about him that makes her so angry? What is it that he's doing wrong? He hasn't even said anything.

He has to remind himself that this isn't a personal attack. That she's just being cautious and defensive. It's not his fault she's so prickly.

Probably.

It's not a good look for him, regardless. He has to work harder to get her to warm up to him, or else this week is going to be torture.

"I have no doubt that you can, ma'am," he says. He keeps his voice light, careful not to show his irritation. He can play the nice guy. If that's what it takes. "You seem very capable."

"Then why did you follow me?"

"I..."

He stops. He hadn't actually thought about why. Not beyond his desire to spend time with her. But now that she's asking him, he can't figure out what to say. 

She’s right; it isn’t his job to look after her. His job is to stay in the apartment and keep an eye on things, not go on strolls around the city center. If General Skywalker had caught him, he would have had his head, and that was putting it lightly.

He has his moments of impulsivity and recklessness, but this isn't the same as jumping out of a moving speeder or challenging a fellow clone to a drinking contest. This is...stupid. There's no excuse, and no real explanation other than the fact that he's drawn to her, and that he just doesn't want to let her go.

But she's still watching him, waiting for an answer, and he can't tell her that. So he shrugs.

"It’s my job, ma’am. And it's not just yourself that you need to worry about," he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "People are desperate these days, and the city is packed with the peace talks. The last thing you need is a bounty hunter or some lowlife thug recognizing you as Senator Amidala's handmaiden. They'll do anything to get their hands on her, and they'll take anyone hostage to achieve that."

He's not exaggerating, not really. The GAR has a list of bounty hunters, mercenaries, and criminals who have taken an interest in Senator Amidala. Most of them are dead or incarcerated, but the few who remain have a long history of violence. There's a reason they assigned a whole squad to the Senator's security detail on top of the NSFG.

It’s also a very convenient excuse.

Esmé looks unconvinced, her mouth twisting slightly. She seems to know exactly what he's trying to do, and he can't help but feel a bit embarrassed at being caught.

But then, just when he's certain she's going to turn around and walk away, she sighs. Her pace slows until she's walking alongside him instead of two feet ahead. She doesn't look happy about it, but at least she's not storming away anymore. He'll take it.

"Is it that hard to believe?" he asks finally, unable to hold his tongue any longer.

Esmé glances at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips pursed. She takes a breath and looks away.

"No," she says, and then, quietly, "I know the lengths people will go to."

He's not sure what to make of her response, so he decides not to ask. They continue on in silence, this one much less tense than before, the sun sinking lower and lower, the sky shifting to the colors of a bruise. He can hear the sound of music growing louder the closer they get to the center of the city, and then a cacophony of noise.

They enter the market district, a large section of the city devoted to small shops and open stalls, the vendors calling out to passersby and hawking their wares. It's crowded, the streets packed with people, and Esmé weaves between them with practiced ease, leading the way.

He's not really sure what he's meant to do here. He can't exactly keep an eye on her and the crowd at the same time, and so he settles for following after her, keeping his gaze fixed on her figure, his body angled towards her and his hand resting on his blaster. 

The noise of the crowd is almost overwhelming, the conversations, the laughter, and the music drowning out everything else, and his focus narrows in on Esmé. He can't lose sight of her, not in a place like this, where a person could disappear within seconds.

Esmé stops, and he almost bumps into her again, but he manages to stop himself in time.

"What is it, ma'am?" he asks, peering over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the crowd for any threats. There are none, at least that he can see, but he keeps his hand on his blaster anyway.

"I'm just browsing," she says with a huff. She gestures to the stall in front of her. "You don't have to hover over me."

"I'm not hovering," he tells her, but when he shifts, his pauldron bumps against her shoulder. He flushes. "Okay, maybe I am. But—"

"I know," she sighs. "I heard you the first time."

"Right."

He watches her mouth twist into a frown, and he bites his tongue. This isn't how he wanted things to go. He should be charming, he should be funny, he should be making her laugh and smile, not making her more annoyed. She's not interested, and it's clear that his attempts are falling flat. His shoulders slump, his chin dipping towards his chest, and he takes a step back.

Maybe this is a lost cause. Maybe it's a mistake.

He's not going to stop trying, not yet, but...

Maybe Jesse was right. Maybe this is a hopeless endeavor.

"If you're going to stay, at least make yourself useful," she says. "Help me carry things."

"Oh," he says, a little startled. He hadn't expected her to actually ask for his help. "I mean, yes, of course."

He reaches out and takes the canvas bag from her. Their fingers brush against each other for the second time today, and it’s just as electric as the first. His heart leaps in his chest, his cheeks warming, and he can't help the smile that comes to his face. But then the moment is gone, and Esmé is pulling her hand away, moving from one stall to the next, leaving him to trail after her like a lost puppy.

The crowd shifts, the music changes, and Esmé stops every once in a while, inspecting the wares laid out in front of her. She's a quiet shopper, never stopping long enough for the vendor to engage her, finding what she needs efficiently and paying quickly. It's methodical. Practiced. And yet, Fives can see her eyes light up with interest whenever she finds something that catches her eye. There's a certain sort of appreciation to the way she runs her fingers over the fabrics, her lips parting slightly, her expression softening. It's the same look she had when she was cleaning his helmet.

She doesn't ask his opinion. He's not even sure if she's noticed that he's still with her, but she doesn't tell him to leave, so he stays, the canvas bag getting heavier and heavier with each new purchase.

Esmé's purchases seem endless, but practical. Meat, vegetables, a comically large loaf of bread, herbs, and even some sweets. She buys enough food for a whole squad, and he can't help but wonder why she would need so much. Is she shopping for the Senator's entourage? It's certainly possible, and yet... he's not sure. Esmé doesn't strike him as the type of person to waste time shopping for someone else.

He watches her reach out and touch a basket full of produce, her fingers tracing the edge of a plump, orange-skinned fruit. Her mouth is twisted into a slight frown, her brow furrowed, and he can see the cogs turning in her head as she stares down at the fruit.

"Look for the ones with the most color," she instructs him, leaning forward and grabbing one from the pile. She holds it up to the light of the lantern beside them and squints. "If you press on them with your thumb, they should be firm, but not hard. If it's too soft, it's gone bad."

Fives doesn't know what to say, so he just nods and mimics her, testing a few fruit for firmness. He doesn't have the slightest clue what he's doing, or how to tell which fruits are good and which aren't. He can tell that the ones he's picked are a little bit soft, and a lot green, and so he puts them back and tries again.

"Do you do this often, ma'am?" he asks. His hands move automatically, his eyes on the fruit and not her. "Coming down here, shopping for yourself."

"Call me Esmé," she mutters as she picks another fruit. He blinks in surprise, and he can’t hide the grin that spreads across his face. That’s progress. "And not since before Padmé was elected, no. We have staff who handle the household needs."

"Right."

He finds a good fruit, and he holds it up to the light, squinting at it. It seems fine, but he's not really sure what he's doing. Esmé plucks it from his hand and inspects it, her eyes narrowed, and she puts it into the bag.

"Why'd you want to come down here, then?" he asks. "Seems like a lot of work."

"Padmé wanted something special for tonight. Something Naboo. I offered to cook," Esmé explains, her voice a little softer. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not usually in charge of cooking, but the chef is ill, and there wasn't anyone else I trust to do it right.”

Fives snorts. "Can't be that hard, can it? It's just food."

She shoots him an irritated look that would’ve made him shrink back in the past. But now, after everything, it only makes him smile wider. He's getting under her skin, and she's starting to talk to him. He'll take the small victories.

"Don't underestimate food," she warns him, and she shakes the fruit at him like a weapon, punctuating her words. "Good food is an art. Bad food is a travesty."

"Alright, alright," he concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. A chuckle escapes him, and he has to bite his lip to keep it in. "I get it. You know what you're doing. I won't question you again, Esmé. I swear.”

She huffs, but the corner of her mouth lifts in the beginnings of a smile. She turns away, hiding her face from him, and continues to inspect the fruit. She moves on from the orange ones and starts testing the blue ones.

He can't seem to wipe the grin off his face. It's not perfect. In fact, it's nowhere near the smooth, suave approach he's always imagined, and she's still mostly ignoring him, but it's...something. He can see it now, the little signs that let him know that she's not entirely opposed to him, even if she's a little irritated by his presence. And, well, he can deal with a little irritation if it means getting a smile out of her.

He can work with this.

Fives reaches for one of the blue fruits, and she smacks his hand away.

"Don't pick anymore," she grumbles. "You clearly don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, ouch," he laughs, shaking his hand out. It doesn't hurt, not really, but she hit him hard enough to sting. "You could be a little nicer, you know."

"You could be a little more useful," she retorts, and this time, her lip does curl up, and he knows, without a doubt, that she's teasing him.

"I'm carrying your stuff!"

"Yes, you are," she agrees, her tone mocking. She doesn't look at him, and instead moves down the line, inspecting the wares.

"Hey, now," Fives calls, following her, his steps quick. "I'm carrying your bag and doing my job, and I'm letting you hit me. I deserve some gratitude, don't I?"

“Gratitude,” she scoffs. She looks over her shoulder at him, her brows raised. "How about this: you be a good little trooper and go find some cheese, and I won't hit you again."

Fives gapes at her, his mouth dropping open, his brows rising high on his forehead. The audacity. The absolute gall. He's never met a woman like her, not in his entire life. He's not even sure he's ever heard a woman speak like that.

He should probably be angry, and a part of him is, but it's quickly eclipsed by the sheer delight he feels, the giddy, fluttery sensation that fills his chest. He can't help the breathless laugh that bubbles out of him.

Fives grins, slow and wide, and takes a step closer to her.

"Ma'am," he says as he leans forward to meet her gaze, "it would be my honor."

Esmé stares at him a moment longer, and then, just when he thinks he's done it, she rolls her eyes.

"I thought I told you not to call me ma'am," she mutters, the amusement shining through despite her best efforts to hide it. She gives him a shove with two palms pressed against his pauldron, and he stumbles back a step. “Go. Try not to fall on your face again while you're looking."

"Yes, ma'am," he says cheerfully. Fives ignores the glare she sends him, his smile growing, and he steps out of her reach before she can hit him again. He can't remember the last time he felt this...good. Happy. "I'll be back soon, then."

He heads in the direction she'd pointed and leaves her standing among the vendors. The crowd parts for him as he makes his way through the marketplace, and he can't quite manage to wipe the smile off his face, despite the looks he gets from a few civilians. He's still riding high, his chest warm and tight with anticipation, the fluttery sensation in his gut refusing to go away.

He can't believe it. She's actually talking to him. Even more than that, she's teasing him. Flirting with him, a little, if he's not imagining it. And he's pretty sure he isn't.

He can't wait to tell the others. They're not going to believe it.

The sun is starting to set, and the sky is a deep purple-red, the clouds painted with hues of pink. The music is getting louder, and the street lamps are beginning to flicker on, casting long shadows and warm light over the square. He can smell roasting meat, and his stomach growls. He hasn't eaten anything all day, and the scents around him are almost overwhelming. Maybe Esmé will let him try whatever she's making.

She's nowhere in sight. He can't even see her distinctive bun in the sea of people. He scans the crowd for a few moments before turning back to the shops. She's probably not going to let him try her cooking anyway.

He's not sure how long he spends looking for the cheese. Esmé didn't give him any details on what kind she wants or where he's meant to get it. For all he knows, there could be fifty different kinds of cheese on this planet. He wanders the market for a while, peeking into the stalls and storefronts, hoping to catch a glimpse of some.

He finally manages to locate the cheese stall, and he’s just holding up a block of some kind of sharp, white cheese when Esmé approaches him. She's walking quickly, her head down, and her hands are curled into tight fists.

The smile slips off his face when he notices the grim look on hers. Her hand wraps around his elbow without stopping, and he's forced to abandon his prize as she pulls him into a nearby alleyway and out of sight.

Fives goes without protest, his eyes scanning the crowd. Esmé presses him against the wall, and her hand reaches for her blaster, her finger resting lightly on the trigger. He follows her lead, his own blaster slipping into his palm.

She waits, her gaze locked on the crowd, and he's forced to wait with her, his heart pounding in his chest. He takes in the clear tension in the set of her jaw and the tightness of her shoulders, and a cold dread washes over him.

There's something wrong.

Fives swallows.

They stand in silence for a long moment, the noise of the market washing over them. Esmé is preternaturally still, her breathing slow and steady. She's still holding his arm in a vice grip, and he can't seem to look away from her.

She doesn't look afraid. Her eyes are sharp and focused, her brows pulled low over her eyes, and her lips are pursed in a firm line. He can tell that she's searching the crowd, her gaze flicking from person to person, and he has to wonder how often she does this. How many times has she been chased, or cornered, or ambushed? How often does she put herself in danger for the Senator?

The answer comes to him, and it's not a comforting one.

Fives peers around her and scans the crowd himself. There's nothing immediately threatening, but that does little to reassure him. There are too many civilians, too many places for someone to hide, and a thousand possible threats. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, his fingers twitching on his blaster, and he tenses, preparing for a fight.

Her hand shifts from his elbow to his shoulder. She pushes him back, pressing him into the wall, and leans in close, her breath warm on his neck. His throat bobs as she steps between his legs, her chest almost touching his. She's a warm weight against him, solid and unmoving, and she smells like the flowers in the courtyard.

Fives can feel his heart rate pick up, and it's not just from the impending danger.

She's so close. Too close.

"Bounty hunter,” she murmurs. Her voice is a low rumble in his ear, and her lips brush his jaw as she speaks. He stiffens. "Three meters, black clothes, gray scarf. Been following me for half a block. No sign of an accomplice."

The words are like a bucket of ice water. His mind clears instantly, and his eyes flick up, searching the crowd for the figure matching her description.

There are rules when dealing with bounty hunters. They're dangerous, unpredictable, and most of them have a kill count that could rival a battalion of troopers. There are a few that the GAR actively works with, a handful that are tolerable, but the others are a danger to everyone and everything around them. If one is here, that means they're after the Senator, or the Queen, or both.

Rex had prepared them for this possibility, but Fives can't say he was expecting it to actually happen.

In the crowd, a figure moves, slow and cautious, a head swiveling side-to-side, looking for something. They're wearing a thick black cloak and a hood, a scarf obscuring their face, and it's impossible to tell if they're human or alien. A hand reaches up and adjusts the hood, and then the figure moves on. 

The hunter isn't looking for a fight. They're looking for a target.

They're looking for Esmé.

Fives doesn't hesitate. He grabs her arms and turns, covering her body with his as he presses her back against the wall, shielding her from view. She doesn't make a sound, but he can feel her tense against him, her fingers digging into his shoulder.

She's so warm, and the soft curves of her body mold to him easily, her cheek brushing against his, her hair tickling his nose. She's small compared to him, his bulk almost completely hiding her, and her chest rises and falls rapidly against his, her heart pounding under his palm.

"Do you have a weapon?" he whispers.

"Blaster," she murmurs back, her lips moving against his jaw. "And a few other things. But it's too crowded. Don't want to start a panic."

He feels his brows raise. "What kind of other things?"

Her fingers dig into the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, and he winces. "Shut up."

There's a long pause as the bounty hunter makes their way down the street. Fives listens closely to the sound of their footsteps, keeping his head turned towards the marketplace, his hand resting on his blaster. When he can't hear them anymore, he slowly lifts his head and peers over the crowd, searching for the figure. He finds them a few moments later, their hood pulled low, their head angled toward the ground.

He keeps his eyes fixed on them as they continue on their path, and Esmé shifts, her head tilting back to rest against the wall, her chin brushing his cheek. She's a lot calmer than he'd expected. Most civilians would be screaming by now, but not her.

"How did you notice him?"

"His steps," she replies. Her voice is a quiet rumble against his skin, and her breath ghosts across his neck, making him shiver. "They're too measured. Too quiet. Everyone else is in a hurry."

"Clever girl," he says softly.

"Are you always this annoying?"

"No. Usually I'm worse."

She sighs, her hand shifting on his shoulder. He can feel her eyes on him, but he refuses to look. If he does, he's going to lose his train of thought, and they're not safe yet. He needs to keep his head, and she's far too distracting.

Fives clears his throat and focuses on the hunter. He watches them walk the length of the market and then disappear into the crowd, lost from view. He keeps his eyes on the space they'd been, waiting to see if they'll come back.

He counts to ten. Then thirty. And when the hunter doesn't reappear, he finally lets out a breath and relaxes. Esmé moves immediately, shoving him away and ducking out from under his arm, her eyes fixed on the entrance. She's still got her blaster drawn, her finger ready to pull the trigger. He holsters his own weapon and reaches for her, placing his hand on her forearm.

"It's alright," he says quietly. He gives her a gentle nudge and steps forward. "We can go now."

She doesn't seem to hear him. Her focus is fixed on the crowd, her body coiled tight like a spring, and she's not blinking, her eyes narrowed. She's not even breathing, and her knuckles are white around her blaster.

He's seen this look before. Too many times.

She's not a soldier, but he can see the training in her stance, the way her eyes sweep the crowd, her muscles flexing beneath his fingers.

She's not a soldier, but she knows how to handle a blaster, and how to defend herself, and she knows exactly what to do when a bounty hunter is on her tail. She's not afraid, even if she should be. It's almost familiar.

It doesn't make sense. She's a handmaiden. The most she should have to do is serve the Senator a cup of tea or fix her hair. She shouldn't be able to tell a bounty hunter from the crowd. She shouldn't have any reason to draw her blaster. She shouldn't be so used to this.

Something doesn't add up.

Esmé's grip relaxes slightly, and she lowers her weapon, her shoulders slumping. She takes a deep breath and leans back, her head tilted towards him, but she doesn't turn around.

He lets his hand slip from her arm, and he doesn't miss the way she shivers when his fingers graze her wrist. Fives takes a step closer, his chest brushing against her back, and her shoulders rise with another inhale. Her head turns slightly, her ear close enough that he can lean down and whisper, his breath tickling the shell of her ear.

"Hey," he murmurs. "You alright?"

She doesn't answer him.

He sighs. He's not surprised. She's been ignoring him all day. He's not sure why he thought she would be any different now.

Fives takes a step back and puts some space between them, folding his arms over his chest. He waits for her to speak, or to move, or do anything, but she stays where she is, her eyes fixed on the crowd, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

He's not really sure what to say, and so he decides not to say anything at all. If she wants to talk to him, she will. And if not... well, then he'll just have to try again.

After a few more minutes, Esmé finally sighs and holsters her blaster. She turns around and looks at him. Her face is as blank as ever, but there's something in her eyes, a hint of unease that wasn't there before. She nods once.

“We need to get back,” she says quietly, her mouth set in a grim line. "Now."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @etod @puppetscenario @umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @notslaybabes @ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @heavenseed76 @bunny7567 @lostqueenofegypt @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @maniacalbooper @burningnerdchild @julli-bee @moonychicky @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @cw80831 @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish @floofyroro @veralii

[malcolmschmitz]

....okay, normally I wouldn't bother interacting with a post like this, because I don't want to get into internet fights, but you're flat-out wrong about point #3.

I'm a nobody. I don't even have conditional tumblr fame. I sell maybe one copy of one of my short stories a month, and I give a lot of my work away for free.

I've still found my work on pirate sites multiple times. Because the people doing the pirating were running some kind of scraper, grabbing ebooks off one of the sites where I sell them and putting them on scribd or libgen or wherever. If you go looking through the Atlantic's libgen crawler, you'll find me:

Does that mean anyone is downloading my work? My money's on no. But people are still distributing it without my knowledge or approval. And even if you're going full anti-capitalist, "profit doesn't matter, I'm happy to give everything away for free", there are still a ton of reasons why you might not want people to do that!

Just, directly related to the instances I've had to deal with:

One of the pirate sites I found my work on used a text scraper rather than a file scraper. The version of my story that they put up was full of typoes, weird encoding errors, and general amateur hour formatting issues. Even if we accept your point 1 as gospel truth, no one is going to take a chance on work that looks that bad.

I had an issue at one point where a wordpress "lit magazine" used, again, a scraper to "borrow" my work. They took a story I'd published with another magazine and put it up on their site, without informing me. And if they'd informed me, they'd have realized that their magazine- which was created to platform Black SFF writers- had just published a story by a white guy.

The book of mine that's on LibGen is no longer available for sale. This is because I wrote it as an 18-year-old recent ex-Mormon and it uses some incredibly racist tropes. I didn't know better then. I do now, and so I chose to remove it from Amazon unless and until I could rewrite it. I don't really want it out in the world with my name on it in its current condition... but it's there, without my consent, because pirates gonna pirate and they don't particularly care what they're pirating.

I'm not doing anything about most of the pirated stuff, because like... what can you do. If someone cares enough about my work to pick it up, you kind of have to work to find it either way. Because, again: I'm a nobody, and I'm terrible at marketing.

But the fact remains that whether you are Stephen King or a nobody on tumblr, people are going to pirate your work. Because enough people doing a piracy these days are just running scraper bots that don't care what they're picking up, and small authors are gonna get caught up in it the way that a bit of plankton might get caught in the maw of a whale.

I think most small artists that believe copyright will save them from poverty don't understand that:

Poor people who cant afford your work will often give it word of mouth support by recommending it after they pirate it

Piracy is not and has never reflected a 1:1 loss of profits

Most likely no one will ever pirate your work

You can pirate too

[ophierian-vp]

[gayofthefae]

Found a new, concise way of putting it that I'm gonna try and remember so I can reuse it:

To say, as a straight person, that a queer character's queerness is out of the blue or unrealistic is to claim that they understand the queer experience to be able to identify inaccurate representation of it.

To call a character's queerness out of the blue as a straight person is to claim full understanding of the queer experience.

[silenthillmutual]

since you asked - i want to preface this by saying i am not mad at you, nor is this response just to you but also to other replies on the post. also apologies that this will be long.

i don't think it's very fair to just assume the people saying daniil has bipolar disorder don't have bipolar disorder themselves, especially if you're naysaying it and don't have it either. for the record, i think i'm the one who started saying it, and i do have bipolar disorder. and it's been extremely, extremely irritating to see people - who are, most of the time, far more hostile than the replies to this post have been - accusing me of, i don't know, lying? faking it? - because they couldn't be bothered to ask. this is not taking an interpretation in good faith.

bipolar is, like bpd, still a highly stigmatized disorder that does not get accurate representation. as such, not everyone who has it is going to want to talk about it. (for the record, i have ocd as well, so i am well aware of popular depictions being wrong and what that looks like). i wouldn't say i grew up with a wealth of accurate representations of any of my diagnoses, nor do i think thats changed much over the years.

i don't mind differing headcanons in the least. i've seen posts about dankovsky with did, i've seen headcanons about schizoaffective dankovsky, i see posts about borderline daniil, and i think they're all great... except for the unnecessary amounts of vitriol i see toward the bipolar headcanon. i got less pushback when i wrote about him having ocd, and in my opinion there's nothing in any game to suggest he has ocd. i just wrote it to deal with my own shit.

for reference, mania - not hypomania, but full blown mania - has to last for at least a week. and that's really all you need to be diagnosed with bipolar i. (for bipolar ii, i believe hypomania is at least four days). bipolar disorder also comes with mixed episodes and something called rapid cycling. rapid cycling is when you skip baseline and go from manic to depressed or vice versa.

there is not just bipolar i and bipolar ii, there's also cyclothymia and bipolar nos.

people with bipolar disorder are also at a high risk of things like substance abuse and suicide. in fact, most mental illnesses are at a high risk for this. even adhd is. these symptoms are not unique to any one mental illness. even the intrusive thoughts that make up the titular obsessions in ocd can be found in other disorders like ptsd (alongside suicide, substance abuse, and hallucinations).

anecdotally, i have compared notes with friends who have bpd in the past and my experiences with bipolar disorder are very similar to theirs, both in feeling and behavior. when i brought this up to my therapist, she only begrudgingly admitted that i could have, as a teenager, been diagnosed with bpd. and what this tells me is that the division between these diagnoses is mostly if not entirely made up for insurance purposes. it should not matter what people are choosing to headcanon daniil with, you're only wrong if you think he isn't mentally ill.

The “is daniil bipolar discourse “ … Okay you are free to interpret his mental health through whatever lens you prefer. There is not a correct interpretation. My thoughts are personally his mental health meter to me reads as just a gamified version of bipolar disorder as a mechanic (depression vs mania).

And of course it’s not how bipolar disorder exactly functions in reality but in other patho games you die of starvation in a day which is not how hunger works in reality either.

[girlpetrarca]

gang I'm not sure I have the courage to come out to my boxing coach

[your-fave-is-christian]

I have a dumb question, and I really hope this doesn’t sound rude. What’s the logic for some of the characters? Like, if they’re the “hero” in their storyline, but they don’t seem to follow Biblical doctrine… does that even count? I’m sorry if that sounds snotty; I don’t mean to have an attitude.

No, you're fine!!

Short answer: I don't know, I'm not the one sending in the characters 😂

But really I would say there's not necessarily a consistent logic that they have to fit. That's part of the beauty of Christianity, isn't it? Anyone who repents and believes is welcome; it's not limited to any certain type of people. For the characters people are sending in here, I think there are a few categories. There are some that fit what you said, who already hold Christian morals and who one could easily headcanon as being Christian within the story. Sometimes people send in villains who they want to have redemption arcs and become Christian. Sometimes it's characters who are Christian; mostly it's characters people would like to see become Christian.

[maeamian]

I understand why that person from the country of Georgia is mad that people aren't getting it right, but also the only part of their post that actually points out it is talking about the country rather than state is the flag that they use, they say "The place I live" which could be either, they talk about the legislature being lethally transphobic which could be either.

I can understand why the particular double name can cause a lot of frustration especially when you're trying to talk about something serious, but sometimes when there's communication problems between you and an audience they are partially your fault.

[melancholic-pigeon]

@vaspider @mistresskabooms @nerdykeppie I'm the one who's being weird? Me? really? You are absolutely sure you're not the asshole in this situation? You're ABSOLUTELY SURE this was a justified response to my polite confusion?

Wow. I really misread you.