#can alex charm me enough to let him be one of liked Peters

[preciouslittletoonette]

Whether I'm truly gonna love this movie or not entirely depends on how much I'm going to enjoy Peter

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, logan howlett, marie lebeau, and peter maximoff

↳ warnings: x-man type violence maybe? nothing much

↳ notes: just some self indulgent headcanons about how the gang would deal with someone who hates skin on skin contact. this is based on my own personal experiences, so it might not cater to everyone. charles and erik are written to be more of themselves around the first class era, peter is himself as seen in apocalypse, and marie & logan are more set in the first movie's portrayal of them

↳ song: heavy metal lover—lady gaga

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 [𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐗]

• Oh this is not one bit of a problem for Charles

• He's never needed physical contact to connect with people. Whether that's because of his powers, or his 'natural charm' as he calls it, you aren't sure, but your strange request for no contact never seemed to put him off his friendship with you

• Charles has his own ways of bonding with you, no hugs or handshakes required. Instead of nudges used to alert the other of a particularly funny joke, he'd just send you flashes in your mind regarding the situation. The end result was always the same; with the both of you grinning at each other while the rest of the room was left to make their own assumptions as to what you were thinking about

• "Seriously, it's creepy when they do that. They could be talking about anything." Alex whispered to Hank one day as you and Charles stood across the room from each other, not caring if the Professor was able to hear him or not. The only sign that you were even talking was the occasional huff of laughter Charles would let out as you scrunched your nose up in a toothy grin

• "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Hanks eyes gleam from behind his glasses as he watches the two of his friends. "Charles tells me most of it is just really bad jokes, if you want to know."

• As if on cue, the spell between you and Charles breaks as you delve into a laughing fit, and Alex and Hank can't help but shake their heads at each other in slight amusement as they watch

• He does an excellent job at speaking for you when you can't quite explain to new people why you are the way you are—as long as you'll let him, of course

• Maybe it's because he's been in your head, or just because he knows you so well that he can say exactly what you're thinking before you even know it. And sometimes, he doesn't even need to explain much at all. One carefully worded sentence backed with that steady tone of his is enough to make even the most ignorant of people understand

• "No handshakes for them, please." Charles had found himself saying that sentence more times than he could count since getting to know you, but he never found himself growing tired of it; even when you eventually found the awkward courage to start speaking on your behalf. Especially when you started speaking on your behalf

• Charles is a very patient man, and he couldn't be happier than to wait for you to open up to the world like you had done for him, even if it does take a while

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫 [𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐨]

• I'm going to be completely honest with you. At first, Erik finds your habit of avoiding touch annoying

• It's a weakness in his eyes that you have every opportunity to avoid acquiring. He doesn't see the point in being afraid of something so miniscule

• When he first meets you, he's probably an asshole about it. Erik doesn't go out of his way to touch you on purpose, but he won't take extra steps to stop himself from doing so. If the back of his hand brushes against yours as he storms away from another one of Charles' annoying lectures? Then so be it. Who cares if you pull back from him like you've been burned, clutching your skin tightly as you glare at his retreating form

• It will take a while for Erik to begin to understand you, much like it does for him to understand a lot of things about the rest of the world. I won't say that he ever officially apologizes for his past behavior toward you, but he definitely drops hints that he does regret it

• "Never thought I'd live to hear the Erik Lehnsherr himself say sorry for something he did. Next you'll be telling me you've always liked humans." Your eyes were wide in faux surprise as you stared at him one day, looking like you had just heard the best news of your life. It was a good thing you and Erik had a much better relationship than when you had first met, otherwise he wouldn't have had a second thought about shutting you up

• "All I said was that maybe I maybe could have been a bit nicer to you." He sighed, already regretting this entire interaction

• "Oh, you're not getting off that easy." You were already scrambling for the door, completely missing the way Erik rolled his eyes and flicked his hand up in preparation. "Charles! Charles, you'll never believe what just happened—"

• He ended up using your belt buckle to drag you across the room before you could embarrass him any further

• Once he's warmed up to you, I'd like to think that he's definitely used the fact that lots of people wear rings and bracelets to his advantage to stop people from touching you at bars or in crowds

• He swears up and down he doesn't get attached to anyone, and especially not someone that associates with the X-Men of all groups, but you've definitely have had a few people look at their hands around you in confusion while he's around. Almost as if someone else had a say in their actions

• "Big softie."

• "You do know I could kill you if I wanted to."

• "I'd like to retract my last statement, please and thank you."

𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 [𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

• Logan doesn't give two shits about your strange request

• Not in the way that he ignores it like Erik, but rather in the way that he literally doesn't give a fuck if you want to be touched or not. He wasn't planning on touching you anyways, so it's not like he really has to think about it

• If anything, Logan is one of the only people who can even begin to understand your mindset. He's never been too fond of people just outright touching him without a warning first, especially if they were strangers, but that's what you get after being experimented on for years

• He'll have to get to both know and like you before he starts taking your words more seriously. Otherwise, all you're getting from him is a gruff noise of disinterest and a roll of his shoulders as he blows past you

• Or ar least that's what he'd like you to think

• "Watch it, pal." You barely had time to process what that noise was next to your ear before Logan was standing dangerously close to you. You were about to ask him to back away before you saw his hand up, and when you looked at his hand you saw it was closed around a strangers wrist; the likes of which was outreached in your direction and just about to make contact with you

• Logans rough tone and sharp glare had sent the fellow stumbling away with an apology, and left you standing there with a bewildered look on your face. It only grew larger when he refused to look at you afterward

• "Don't let it get to your head." Was all he huffed out in your general direction before walking off to continue the mission the both of you were on. Through the com's in your ears, you could hear the rest of the team asking you what was going on, and with a slow upward tick of your lip you finally answered

• "I think Wolverine here has gone a bit soft on my end guys."

• You were given the cold shoulder for the rest of the week by Logan, and every time he glared at you, you couldn't help but try to hold in laughter

• "See, this is why I'm not nice."

• "No no no I take it all back, I swear. You're so mean. You're the meanest, toughest person here, never done a good deed in your life—"

• "Shut the fuck up."

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 [𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

• She doesn't understand why you'd choose to have people not touch you

• For Marie, not being able to hug someone— to even so much as hold hands with the people she loved —is a curse. She wasn't such a fool to think that her mutation itself was the curse, Charles had managed to drill that thought out of her head a long while ago, but the side-effect that came with it would forever haunt her

• So when she found out that you actively took strides to make sure no one ever touched you (if possible), she was in disbelief

• "I just don't get it." She'd confessed to you out of the blue once. "How can you stand it? If I were you—"

• "But you're not." You cut her off and shrugged, voice devoid of any meanness or annoyance at the turn of conversation. "I get it. I must seem crazy to you. I'd imagine that you'd jump at the chance to be able to touch someone again. But that just isn't me. I can't stand the feeling of being touched. Makes me feel gross; inside and out. I don't ask you to understand it, just that you respect it. Yeah?"

• She had nodded slowly at you, not expecting the sudden explanation. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Quite the contrary. She'd rather understand you than stew in quiet confusion

• From that moment on, even if Marie thinks you're a little crazy in the head, she does her best to make sure that both herself and others take your wishes to heart

• You have to admit, it's nice having her look out for you. And it helps that she's one of the most powerful mutants on campus; one sideways look from her, and she could send anyone in the opposite direction from you if you need

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫]

• You're constantly having to remind him that you don't like people touching you

• It's not Peter's fault he forgets sometime. His brain is always going going going from one thing to the next. Thinking about the next mission, the quickest way to get from one end of the country to the other, how to beat that stupid kid at the arcade that keeps leaving him and his high scores in the dust—

• Okay so maybe he could do a bit of a better job of trying to listen

• "Peter, reach for the back of my neck again and I'm gonna break both of your legs." You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was itching to latch onto your neck, most likely to take you on a surprise trip a few states over. Or maybe just to the mall. He was spontaneous like that

• When you did manage to look up from your notebook and back at him, you found that Peter was already a good few feet away from you, holding up his hands with a deceivingly innocent smile; but respecting your wishes all the same

• "You sure you're not a secret nun or something?" He poked fun at the way you refused to let anyone touch you, even going as far to squint at you in an unconvinced manner. You ignored his clear misunderstanding of nuns to snort in amusement

• "No."

• "Could have fooled me, babe."

• He sped away before you had the chance to throw your papers at his head

• Peter's probably the kind of guy to constantly tease you to your face, but the moment you're not in sight and someone's ragging on you, he'll shut them down. He's done it many times to stray students in the hallways of the school who talk just a little too loud about your personal boundaries

• "I'm just saying, man, they're a little weird. The other day, I asked to borrow a pencil, and they threw it at me. While standing less than a foot away. It's just strange—"

• Less than a second later, the student was sent falling to the floor over his shoelaces, which were suspiciously tied together in contrast to moments ago when they had been placed in neat little bows

• The only sign that this hadn't been a freak accident was the telltale burst of wind that sped by the student and their friend, a faint laugh following in its wake

[icarusbetide]

back on my bullshit y'all. implausible historical scenario: southern alexander hamilton (pt 1: lavien & laurens version)

Part 2: Washington's son dramatic-ass version

my favorite hobby is shoving historical figures into impossible scenarios so i can get them to do what i want. once again made up some convoluted series of events just to create a hamilton wildly out of character- god forbid, a southerner who might even get along with thomas jefferson. here's the first implausible scenario that make it possible.

Alexander goes to live with his half brother Peter Lavien.

Peter Lavien was the legitimate child of Rachel Hamilton’s first marriage. He moved to Beaufort, South Carolina in 1764 at eighteen and became a prominent merchant and member of the church. However, he returned to St. Croix in 1769 to settle his mother’s estate, aka get everything that she had wanted to go to James Jr. and Alexander. In 1769, the two boys were taken in by their cousin Peter Lytton (who died), and then Lytton’s father, who also died a month later. Probable that this happened after Lavien had once again left St. Croix, but let’s just imagine that he for some reason takes pity on the boys - and takes them with him. Nothing makes sense here, roll with it.

It would be even sadder and morbidly funny if he only took Alexander. I say this because in his 1778 last Will and Testament Lavien left “Alexander Hamilton and his brother Robert Hamilton” a fairly substantial amount of money. One brother must’ve left a greater impression on him and maybe poor James Jr. hears this half brother who took his inheritance say “Alex and Robert can come with me” and goes “Who tf is Robert, fuck this” and peaces out. 

Now, politically: Extrapolating since I’m not sure how prominent “prominent merchant” is, but maybe this means that Alex has the chance to meet prominent southerners early on, who like many others, are charmed by his energy and precocity. Does this mean he has more affection and allegiance for South Carolina than he did in real life for St. Croix? Does his politics and economic experience change? Assuming that like Washington, wartime experience is enough to make him a nationalist and he still had some experience at Cruger’s (and maybe helping Lavien) and thus does not have differing economic beliefs, his enemies would lose out on a major attack: perceived bias to the North. His connection to the Schuyler family would still serve, but maybe without as much weight, since he has those southern connections. 

I love the idea of a South Carolinian Alexander Hamilton who grows up in a fairly secure American home with a steady guardian. The personal implications! The family drama of being forced to rely on a half brother who resents you for taking his mom, and who you resent back for taking your inheritance! Does this give him more issues, less issues? No idea! Even worse, Lavien was apparently a Tory, so there’s that. Two brothers who perhaps got closer over the years, split apart again by political differences. “I take pity on a bastard brat and you repay me with this?” type shit. Lavien moved out to Georgia in 1777, and apparently died in 1780 or 1781 which means Hamilton would’ve been a prominent aide de camp to the commander in chief, and potentially married into a great New York family when it happens. How would he react to that?

And I can’t give up the idea of Colonel Alexander Hamilton of South Carolina meeting John Laurens of South Carolina. Maybe I push it further and say they meet early on and become childhood friends, even.

This is really stretching it but idc, they get to be childhood friends and Hamilton gains the favor of Henry Laurens. Maybe they even go to Europe together, wreak havoc on everything, and then disobey both Laurens' worried father and Alexander's Tory brother to join the army as aide de camps.

Maybe in this universe, Hamilton is chosen to go to South Carolina instead of John Laurens and their fates are switched. Maybe Henry Laurens who still wants to keep his kid out of danger asks Hamilton to go in his stead and pushes Washington about it, and Hamilton, wanting a command, readily agrees. Maybe that continues on after Yorktown, when Hamilton returns to South Carolina. Maybe Laurens has to learn that Hamilton died in a skirmish through a letter from his father and vows to continue on their shared dreams and Hamilton's plans, becoming the influential but even more abrasive leader of the federalist party. i want to see the switch, where it's the more idealistic laurens who isn't a good politician either (the two of them are a disaster) enters the public arena to be slandered and corrupted - laurens who is isolated from his fellow southerners and who seems to be mourning someone constantly and washington knowing exactly who it is. a laurens who looks back and yearns for a promising, brilliant young man who could've done so much more if he only had the chance WAIT WHO SAID THAT-

[iliumheightnights]

Masterlist

Making a post for my masterlist so it’s more available to everyone!  Want to send in a request? Take a look at my Characters and Fandoms I’ll write for here!

FIC AND ASK REQUESTS OPEN!

Check out my OC’s here!

HAVE A FIC OR ASK REQUEST OR JUST WANT TO TALK? CHECK OUT RIGHT HERE TO SAY WHAT’S ON YOUR MIND!

...

SERIES:

We Have A Jedi:

Prologue

[1]  [2]  [3]  [4]  [5]  [6]  [7]  [8]  [9]  [10]  [11]  [12]  [13]  [14]  [15]  [16]  [17]  [18]  [19] [20] [21] [22] [23]

...

DESCENDANTS:

Ben Florian:

Bird Set Free (Cowritten with @inhumanshadows)

STAR WARS:

Anakin Skywalker:

Master and apprentice

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

By The Force

Luke Skywalker:

Snowfall

Han Solo:

Plan of Action

Din Djarin:

I See You

Fluff ABCS

Poe Dameron:

Pazaak

Head in the clouds

It’s called a cockpit for a reason (smut)

Debrief

Piloting your heart

Rainfall

Crash Landing

A Lesson in Humility

Kylo Ren:

Prisoner (Smut)

Theron Shan:

Peace and Quiet

Ezra Bridger:

Not worth the price

Bring Him Home

Cal Kestis:

Reunited

Ashes of Rebellion

Protocol:Prom

Learning

Crowded

Carth Onasi:

That’s my jacket

THE 100:

Bellamy Blake:

Here Be Dragons

Even Now?

MARVEL:

Tony Stark:

Let me make you proud [2] [3]

No Matter What

Him [2]

Even Heroes Need Breaks

The Newbie

Peter Parker:

Movie Night

You’re Staring

Comfort Zone

Not Enough

To the Stars and Back (Smut)

Don’t tell Gordon Ramsay

The children are out future?

Fluff ABC’s

Relaxing Melody

Droplets

I’m too young for this!

injured

Steve Rogers:

From Shadows

Empathy

Smut ABC

Fluff ABC

Home

Like Before

Birthday Gift

Thor Odinson:

Lokkkiii!

Bucky Barnes:

You Coward!

Family Recipe

Wrong Order

Scott Lang:

Rags and Riches

The Convention

Shang-Chi

Fluff ABC

Clint Barton:

Rescue Mission

Um...Hey

Zemo:

Dearly Beloved

GAME OF THRONES:

Robb Stark:

Remembrance

Jon Snow:

Wild Ones

SKY HIGH:

Lash:

Limits

Will Stronghold:

Hide and Sneak

...

DC:

Clark Kent/Superman:

For Forever

His Protector

Luckiest Man Alive

Rest

Hometown

Bruce Wayne:

Valentine’s Dinner

TWILIGHT:

Jacob Black:

Embrace

Bending Boyfriend

Eternity

Blanket Hog

Sam Uley:

What’s on your face?

Goodbyes

Bending Boyfriend

Ripples 

Apologies

Go the distance

Paul Lahote:

Bending Boyfriend

Bully Free Zone

One with nature

Jared Cameron:

The wolf and the moon

Just a phase

Bending Boyfriend

Three strikes you’re in

Embry Call:

A pack of our own

Bending Boyfriend

Three strikes you’re in

Quil Ateara:

A pack of our own

Bending Boyfriend

Three strikes you’re in

Carlisle Cullen:

Wake Up Call

NARNIA:

Edmund Pevensie:

Take a Break

Let’s go in the Garden

Weekend Trip

Paint Your Feelings

Stories

Peter Pevensie:

Up’s and Downs

Nature’s Beauty

Moving On

Betrothed

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY:

Klaus Hargreeves:

Can you hear the angles?

Luther Hargreeves:

Donut Date

Diego Hargreeves:

Thrifty

ONCE UPON A TIME:

David Nolan/Prince Charming:

Not my sister

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA:

Harvey Kinkle:

Hitting the Showers (Smut)

The Magic of Toys (Smut)

Baby’s First Spell

The Name

Nick Scratch:

Baby’s First Spell

DINOTOPIA:

Kark Scott:

Tales from Dinotopia

FALLOUT:

Paladin Danse:

Reset

Sanctuary

MASS EFFECT:

Kaidan Alenko:

Carrying You

DRAGON AGE:

Cullen Rutherford:

You’re terrible at cards (Smut)

STARDEW VALLEY:

Sam:

Under Covers

Secret Forest Kisses

Shane:

Secret Forest Kisses

Alex:

Secret Forest Kisses

Sebastian:

Secret Forest Kisses

OC’S:

Daniel Stark:

Field Trip From Hell

Ven:

The Siege Begins

[natromanxoff]

11 - Van Halen...

Hi there one and all.

Can I first start by saying farewell to Cozy. I've known him for about fifteen years and would not say he was a close friend or anything, but whenever we caught up with each other there was always time for a beer and chat. He was an A1 guy and will be greatly missed as a person and as a brilliant drummer. When John Bonham died he left the crown for the best rock drummer to Cozy, and I can't think of anyone worthy enough to take over. When Bonzo died we were doing a show at Madison Square Gardens, and as they were going into Champions Fred said, "This one's for John Bonham." The place erupted. If that's Bonzo's song, then I think Cozy should inherit We Will Rock You, because he was THE best rock drummer.

My social life has been quite hectic again. Caught up with Status Quo when they played here recently, they're always good fun to chat with, and they still put on a decent show. Next Sunday I'm gonna see Matchbox 20. Have a listen to their album, it's really good. Last night was the all new Van Halen, and thanks to my mate Nick I had one of those wonderful VIP passes hanging round my neck. I, along with the rest of the world was curious to know what Gary Cherone was going to be like. Brilliant. This has to be the best VH line up yet. The show was being filmed by MTV, so if you see it and the camera pans around to the sound desk, just look for the best looking guy in the building and that'll be me, standing next to him.

Anyway, back to VH. They are still a great rock band, a great live act and great musicians, and I still hate drum solo's. But back to Mr Cherone. We all know what he did at the Tribute, and we all know he's a huge Queen fan, and he's the closest singer to Freddie I've ever seen. His outfit, black satin shirt and flared black satin pants. I seem to remember FM wearing that around 75/76. His mic stand is the FM 'wand', except it's a lot longer. His movements are very theatrical, and dare I say camp at times, with lots of twists and turns, very Freddie. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking him at all, he is an amazing showman and doesn't stop all night, even jumping into the crowd and running up the steps to the top of the arena, and then tumbling down like a stuntman. It's good rock 'n roll, so try and check them out, I don't think you'll regret it. (I've become concert reviewer all of a sudden) At times he even sounds like another singer, but I won't keep on, I'll leave it to somebody else. On the rock station, Triple M, one of the jocks this afternoon said, "He's been watching to many videos of our dear departed friend Freddie Mercury. His movements were exactly like his."

The first time I ever saw Van Halen was at a place called the Circus Krona(!) in good old Munich. I went along to see them with the curly one, and when we got there I had to instantly phone the studio and try and get Rog to come along because it was the biggest PA system I had ever seen in a place that size. When they started the intro tape it was so loud I thought my chest was gonna cave in, the bass just pinned you to your seat. Needless to say Brian was like a pig in shit. Before I tell you my little Queen story, I have to tell you about what I consider to be the best onstage patter I think I've ever heard. David Lee Roth was talking to the crowd between numbers and somebody in the crowd chucked a paper cup or something at him, he stopped talking, looked round in the general direction and said, "Hey man, you can throw what you like at me. Because tonight I'm going to f**k your chick." 20,000 people loved it, and so did I cause I still remember him saying it.

OK. We were touring the States, probably around 81/82, and we were flying to Portland. The band entourage were traveling on a wonderful private plane, and as the crew would have been in the bus for about 24 hrs we took as many as we could with us. The date was Sept.1, I remember because thats my birthday, and when we boarded the plane there was a huge cake with 'Happy Birthday Crystal' on it, and even more booze than we normally had. (Somebody must have expected something) One of the nice things about private planes is that you can make detours and the pilot flew around Mt St Helens a few times so we could see right into the crater, and it was still steaming, an amazing sight. Back to my birthday and a few of us needed some privacy, so Jim 'Mary' Devenney, Jimmy ' Idiot Boy' Barnett, Peter 'Feebie' Freestone, Roger '*******' Taylor and myself stocked up with a couple of drinks and retired to the Master Bedroom for a discussion on world politics. When the plane landed we were still a few thousand feet up in the air, legless is the best way to describe us. Hey, it was my birthday after all. We fell into the limo's and headed to the hotel, and the crew went on to theirs.

On arrival I found out that Van Halen were staying there, and they were playing that night, so I secured a few million passes and went looking for somebody to go partying with. After all it was 4pm and if I went to sleep I'd wake up feeling awful so I had to continue. RT said he was gonna crash, but Feebie and Terry were ready to go, so we said we would go to the first bar we came to. As it turned out it was a topless joint, and needless to say I was shocked and stunned, but a deals a deal. We were drinking shots of peppermint schnapps with vodka and orange chasers, very intelligent. At about 8pm we all shot off to watch VH, and they were great. After the show both bands arrange to meet in the bar at the hotel, but the bar is one of those stupid ones in the middle of the lobby. So there we are, the four Queenies, Feebie, Wally, Tunbrige, Terry and me, and the four Van Halens, all sitting around having a slurp, and VH's minders running around like headless chickens in the CIA. Outside the main doors were hundreds of fans, with a VH gorilla keeping them out, even to the point of stopping Ratty coming in. I had to argue with this moron to let one of our crew in, and he said, "If he goes anywhere near David or Eddie I'll throw him out." I could only answer with that wonderful two worded phrase starting and ending in F. Because it was like being in a fish bowl we decided to leave the bar, and everyone wandered off to various rooms to continue, the biggest bash being in Rogers suite.

At some unknown hour whilst I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a charming lady who called herself 'Naughty Nancy,' Jobby says to me, "I've been looking for you, Tunbridge wants you to call him now, it's urgent, Brians had an accident." Jobby was very drunk and I didn't know if he was serious or joking, so I phoned Tunbridges room and there was no reply. What do I do now? If Brians asleep and I wake him I'm in trouble, and if he has hurt himself and I don't call I'm still in trouble. What do I care? I'm drunk and fearless, so I phone and Tunbridge asks me to get there asap.

When I go in, Brians lying on the bed on his side, with the waste paper bin close at hand, and Tunbrige is grinning and mopping his brow with a damp cloth. Brian was mumbling stuff like "Don't let me die." (I'm sure most of us have been there at sometime or another) I probably shouldn't say this, but I had to grin, I thought it highly amusing. I got an explanation and told Tunbridge not to let him sleep on his back, and call me if there were anymore problems. I then returned to NN.

It turned out that when we all left the bar, Brian had gone to Eddie's room where they consumed huge quantities of Jack Daniels, and Brian not being a bourbon drinker, went to the toilet to worship the porcelain god, and threw up with such gusto he hit his head on the cistern, split his head open and nearly knocked himself out. The following night we played the same place VH did, and Mr May with band aid on head, played a blinder. A couple of years later, in the Rainbow in LA, I met Alex Van Halens estranged wife, and that, as they say, is another story all together.

Crystal

[lacrimosathedark]

Hamilton Inaccuracies/Corrections (because why not?)

Okay so, I saw a post on reddit that was like, “what’s some inaccuracies in Hamilton off the top of your head?” and I got a whole bunch...and then I had to double check to make sure if I was right...and I’m pretty long-winded...and  now I have this 5,000ish word monstrosity. And apparently you can only post 1000 characters at a time on reddit. Laaaaame. So here’s some Hamilton facts I’ve gathered in my brain. Since it was kinda off the top of my head despite being so long, it’s kinda vague in some places, so if anyone wants to expand on anything (or correct me if I oopsed somewhere) please do! Though nicely please.

Also I am also awful at citing things, but I know I learned some of this from @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto so thank you.

LET’S BEGIN!

Act 1

Rachel Faucette was not a prostitute, but she was a “whore” in the sense that she did what she fucking wanted with her body. During her first marriage she may or may not have been sleeping around, but she refused to stay with John Lavien, her husband, anymore. So he had her arrested. And he could do that. Because patriarchy and theocracy. And she was essentially put in solitary confinement. You can see why she tried to leave, right? She tried to get their marriage annulled or get a divorce. I forget what the issue was but she couldn’t and eventually she just moved to another island where she met James Hamilton.

The intro song makes it seem like Alexander was an only child. He actually had an older brother, James Jr., but he kinda fucked off after their mother died, working and taking care of himself. They also had an older half-brother Peter Lavien, but I don’t think they really knew him other than as the son of their mother’s abusive ex who took everything from them when she died. John Lavien was able to do that because when Rachel was with James Hamilton, she had not been able to get legally divorced from him so she wasn’t really married to James Hamilton, so James Jr. and Alexander were illegitimate ie bastards. He was an asshole. I don't think Peter had anything against the Hamiltons, but I think he grew up to be a Loyalist so. He actually made some trouble in South Carolina for Henry Laurens, John's dad! But I think I read somewhere he also left money for Alex and James Jr. In his will, which is sweet.

This is more visual since it’s not specified in the song, but in the show, Hamilton’s cousin mimes hanging himself. Peter Lytton’s cause of death if I recall was inconclusive, but he was in his bed and there was a lot of blood. So, yeah, he didn’t hang himself.

Alexander did not punch the bursar. However he did return to Princeton later during the war and blew a canon through the school and apparently decapitated a painting of King George lololol. He was under orders, but yknow. Probably felt pretty good after he was rejected for accelerated courses. He wasn’t the only bastard rejected, though! Ben Franklin’s bastard son was too. The guy in charge of admissions, Witherspoon, hated bastards as a concept and Princeton was a very religious school at the time I believe.

It may have been the plan by Aaron and Esther Burr for Aaron Jr to graduate Princeton, but like, he couldn’t really be sure of that? He was like 2 years old when they died, and his older sister Sally was 4 I believe, maybe 5.

Hercules Mulligan met Alex in 1772. His older brother Hugh knew Alex’s old employer in St. Croix and helped him get to mainland America. Alex and Hercules lived together for a long while, and Hercules is actually who got him interested in the revolution.

John Laurens was in England in 1776. He wouldn’t meet Hamilton and Lafayette until he accepted his post as Washington’s aide-de-camp upon his return in August of 1777.

Lafayette couldn’t have met Hamilton before August 1777 because that’s when he met Washington, and he was appointed as a volunteer to the Continental Army only a week prior, and before that he had been in France. But Lafayette later declared their relationship to be like that of brothers, Alexander his closest connection in the states besides Washington.

Lafayette admired and absolutely adored Laurens and they were besties, but neither of them knew Mulligan. They may have met in passing, or heard about him from Hamilton, but nothing more.

“Lafayette” was actually a nickname based on his title of “Marquis de la Fayette”. In his autobiography, he wrote: “It’s not my fault I was baptized like a Spaniard, with the name of every conceivable saint who might offer me more protection in battle.” I’m glad he thought it was funny at least. His name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette.

Hercules Mulligan is not known to fuck horses.

The Revolution had already sorta started. Actually, Hercules and Alexander had been part of local militias before 1776.

This is more of a miscommunication since the actors are close in age, though the lyrics try to get it across. There’s a reason Mulligan says he’s got the others “in loco parentis”. In 1776 Hamilton and Lafayette would have been 19, Laurens would have been 22, and Mulligan would have been 36.

I think we all know “Laurens, I like you a lot” does not cover the scope of their relationship but that’s rather self explanatory so unless someone asks I’ll leave it at that. And for other clarifications. But at the very least I’ll share this: Anyone who saw them knew they were like attached at the hip (without knowing how attached *winkwonk*) and you could almost always contact one through the other. Laurens was notoriously bad at answering letters, to Hamilton too (and Alex did bitch about it because he is insecure and needs love), but it became quickly known he got back to Hamilton fastest so people would be like “Tell Laurens I said hi!” or “Hey, I need to get these to Laurens, you send them to him.” Which is hilarious. I just imagine Alexander going, “Why me?”

While all of them are Revolutionaries, Laurens is the only one you could solidly call an abolitionist, and Mulligan’s even shaky on the manumission part. He was supposedly part of the Manumission Society Hamilton helped start, but Mulligan also personally owned slaves and was never known to have freed them (One helped him with spy shit. His name was Cato!). In fairness, Hamilton and Lafayette wholeheartedly agreed with Laurens, and Hamilton was the biggest supporter of his battalion plan, and both of them did try to continue working towards equality after the war, but it was never the top priority for either of them and their lives kinda went to hell, so it fell to the wayside. Lafayette actually did some nifty stuff worth looking at, and Hamilton might have tried to keep one of John Lauren’s freed men from Henry Laurens! But as slavery stuck around for a while, it clearly wasn’t anything significant.

Angelica would meet and befriend Thomas Jefferson in Europe, but she would never manage to convince him to put women in a sequel because he’s a huge misogynist and told her in multiple letters that politics isn’t for women and I think he deserves a shoe up his southern backside. Side note, it always bothered me that Lin played up the misogyny in the musical. I mean, yeah, all of them would be misogynists compared to us, but for their time, Hamilton wasn’t so bad. If there was anyone to play up misogyny with, it was Jefferson, because he would tell Angelica for years and years that politics could never make women happy, and that the women in France were foolish for trying etc.. Hamilton would actually discuss politics with Angelica frequently and openly. And there’s a proto-feminist in the cast that was never recognized—Aaron Burr! He respected Theodosia Sr. as an equal and she was his most valuable political ally, and he made sure Theodosia Jr. got the same education any boy of her time would have. He actually respected women to a decent degree. Not to say he wasn't as much of a ho as Hamilton cuz yeah that's accurate (but they were both disaster bisexuals more on Burr's sexuality later)

Farmer Refuted was an essay Hamilton wrote arguing against Samuel Seabury's posts. They weren't shouting in the public square(but Lin got the sass right. I love his face when Hamilton and Seabury are fighting over the podium). Seabury was also really really old, not young and cute like Thayne, hence the line about "mange". Blech.

General Montgomery didn’t take a bullet in the neck, it was a grapeshot from a canon in his head (and his thighs), but close enough I guess. Side note: Burr actually served a short interim on Washington’s staff, but only for like 10 days because they hated each other lolol.

Alexander didn’t bring Laurens, Mulligan, or Lafayette to Washington. Lafayette joined up with the Continental Army in 1777 and quickly convinced them he wasn’t like the other French nobles; he was a glory-seeking kid with a boner for America (for some reason???). Laurens was requested by Washington to join his military family and he arrived also in August 1777 just after Lafayette. Like previously stated, Mulligan was doing shit even before Hamilton did.

Alexander would not have been in charge of spy shit (though may have been somewhat involved). Washington had people like Mulligan for that, who actually saved Washington a few times. But also, the "King’s men who might let some things slide" was the tactic Mulligan used. He was actually very charming, and his wife was very high in British society and he was a skilled tailor, so they were thought of well among the redcoats, and he got a lot of information through chatting with his customers. He also could usually smooth-talk his way out of trouble. Actually, Mulligan blended in so well, when the war was over, people in the city wanted him out cuz they thought he was a Loyalist. So George fucking Washington paid him a visit and commissioned I think a coat from him, and that cleared that up. He got a LOT of business after that.

Alexander would not be Washington’s right hand man, or at least, not his only one if Lin was using that to mean aide-de-camp. In that case, Laurens would also be Washington’s right hand man, along with many men not named in the musical.

John Laurens may have been reliable with the ladies (comes with the territory of being hot, rich, and a perfect gentleman), but he most certainly didn’t want to be. His father noted, rather proudly at the time, that as a young teenager he expressed no interest in girls. John was also married by 1780, and at least Alexander knew. (he told John he'd found out in the well-known April 1779 letter. You know... “Cold in my professions...find me a wife...the length of my nose...” That one.) Because John apparently didn't tell people he was married. Laurens. Sweetheart. Get. Your. Shit. Together.

John also would not be at this ball. February 1779 to March 1780 he is fighting down south, and this ball was early 1780.

The tomcat thing may be half true. Martha Washington did supposedly name a cat Hamilton, but it was an affectionate thing. The slang tomcat meaning ho wasn’t a thing at that time, so it couldn’t be named to tease Alex for his promiscuity. I believe this was one of the many things John Adams made up to slander Hamilton.

Hamilton and Eliza had met before 1780. They had met once two years prior at a dinner her father had hosted. Also, Hamilton had been courting her friend Kitty Livingston, and his friend and fellow aide Tench Tilghman had been attempting to court Eliza, and they’d actually done at least one sort-of double date (which is adorable). So this shouldn’t have been the first time they’d seen each other. Could still be when they fell in love, though, since they started courting after this. Which is cute to think about.

Speaking of Tench and Eliza! I don't remember when this took place but Tilghman journaled it, he went out on something of a hike with a few ladies and they got to a cliff. Of course, he had to help the girls climb up. Except Eliza who started climbing by herself like a natural to the bewilderment and likely horror of the other ladies. Elizabeth Schuyler was a bamf okay?

Of course everyone knows by now, Angelica was married before Eliza. During the Winter’s Ball, she’d already eloped with Jack Carter aka John Barker Church and run away to Boston.

Their courtship was not that fast. Not like, weeks. More like months. Fun fact, Eliza is the only of the five (yes FIVE) Schuyler sisters who didn’t elope and actually got her parents permission! But here’s a heartbreaking fun fact: while Alex was courting Eliza, Laurens was taken prisoner and then on probation. He wasn’t allowed to leave the state of Pennsylvania. He was mentally in a very dark place. Alex kind of procrastinated telling Laurens about Eliza, didn’t say he was courting anyone until they were already engaged.

I can't leave this alone if I'm sad you have to be too. Alex was hella depressed during this time too. Of course he was a soldier so he couldn't see Eliza as much as he'd have liked. On top of that, he kept pushing for an exchange for John and kept getting rejected because they couldn't show preference for him. And then Laurens was sending him very few letters, of course, and the ones he did send were very depressed, even suicidal sounding. He had to work while dealing with that. He had to keep begging Eliza to write to him to be reassured that she still liked him.

No one could show up for Hamilton for the wedding. Some sources say fellow aide James McHenry showed up, but he’s the only one. Alexander even invited his deadbeat dad, offered to pay all his travel expenses and everything, guess how that turned out. So Eliza’s side of the hall was packed and his was empty. God, can you imagine how sad that is?

Another heartbreaking fun fact! John Laurens was out of probation and could have made it to the wedding, was invited (Hamilton, I kid you not, jokingly invited him to a threesome with his new wife in a letter: “I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania. I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation.” (emphasis is original to Hamilton. As is the misspelling of Pennsylvania. Yes, seriously.)) and John did not go. Instead he went back to work trying to talk his way out of getting sent as an envoy to France and suggesting Alexander to take his place. You know. His boyfriend who just got married. Sure, he was right that Hamilton was better equipped for the job, but yknow. Another fun fact, one of the guys who voted for John to be the one to go to France was John’s ex-boyfriend Francis Kinloch. Who was a turncoat, and had been a royalist when he and Laurens split. How’s that for some twisty bullshit.

Sorry, this one isn’t about the musical, it’s a tangent, I just got excited about that quote. Both that style of innuendo and the misspelling of Pennsylvania are consistent in Hamilton’s writing. Listening to john-lauren’s podcast about the April 1779 letter can really help you understand how Hammy uses innuendo but also I just love listening to it it’s insightful and hilarious and I love John Laurens but y u do this and my heart hurts for Hamilton but he is also a ho but aNYWAY. As for Pensylvania...well, he kinda made that mistake on an important document. ...It’s The Constitution. He misspelled Pennsylvania on The Constitution. No big deal. Not like something that could haunt his legacy forever. Oh my god I’m so sorry.

Philip Schuyler did have sons. Five in fact. Two of them died pretty young though I think, considering there are three kids in a row named John Bradstreet Schuyler. The other two were named Philip Jeremiah and Rensselaer.

Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan were all married before Hamilton. Hercules Mulligan married Elizabeth Sanders in 1773. Lafayette married his beloved Adrienne in 1774. John Laurens was regretfully obliged to marry Martha Manning in 1776.

Sigh. Again with the misogyny. Anyway, I wanted to comment on the marriage as a loss of freedom. From what I can tell, Elizabeth helped Hercules with his spy work at home. John was literally fighting a war across the ocean from his wife, and probably having an illegal affair with Alexander (though to be fair to him, he was kind of running away from Martha because he didn't marry her for love, gosh, there are no winners here). Lafayette absolutely adored his wife but still was also fighting a war an ocean away, and had multiple affairs, at least one with his wife’s blessing. So yeah, losing your freedom with marriage? Bullshit.

Despite where it is in the musical and Eliza singing the beginning, Stay Alive is roughly about Valley Forge, which would be December of 1777 through June of 78. So before the ball and wedding. (Fun fact! A lot of people theorize Valley Forge as when Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship may have escalated into romantic and/or sexual territory. They may have had more privacy, as small temporary buildings were being made to better withstand the cold, and Hamilton was sick a lot during that time and did need tending a lot. West Indian boi did not like Northern winter.) But yeah, Congress being stupid and the army resorting to eating their horses sometimes and not being able to buy food and equipment? All true. It was a real bad winter.

Mulligan wouldn’t have to go back to New York, he never would have left. He remained there as a tailor and a spy throughout the war. He wouldn’t have been traveling with Washington.

Hamilton and Laurens didn't write essays so much as start working out John's battalion plan and writing letters trying to push for it.

This duel happened in 1778, so like. This timeline is so fucky.

Stay Alive makes it seem like Hamilton was the one who wanted to duel Lee, but it was 100% Laurens from the start. The off-Broadway version demonstrates it a bit better. Hamilton was Lauren's second to save his ass. Hamilton had a rough relationship with Washington, but Laurens admired him greatly and would have willingly defended his commander’s honor. John was a Good Boy who always bowed his head to his asshole father, even at first for his battalion plan, but John wouldn’t let even his father talk shit about Washington. Fun fact about this duel, Alex and John were late to the duel because they “got lost in the woods”. Oooookay. Suuuuuuure. And Baron von Steuben was straight. (Fact: Steuben was very gay and pretty much pushed out of Europe for it. And he actually also had challenged Lee! They talked things out before this.)

Aaron Burr was not Charles Lee’s second. His second was a Major Evan Edwards. Lin wanted a parallel with the final duel. To be fair, that was a really cool way to do it and I like it better that way.

Alexander Hamilton could NOT agree that duels are dumb and immature. He was in 10 duel challenges as a participant in his lifetime, 9 of which he was the challenger. One time he challenged two people at once. One time he challenged an entire politcal party apparently. No, I am not kidding. He had a bad day. And I think you know the one time he wasn’t the challenger.

Lee did not yield on the first shot, nor was Laurens satisfied. Lee was pretty much like, “It’s just a flesh wound!” and wanted to go another round and Laurens agreed, but Hamilton and Edwards managed to talk them down. Yes he was shot in the side. But that wasn’t all because Laurens absolutely roasted Lee at his court martial. 

Lee: Were you ever in an action before?

Laurens: I have been in several actions; I did not call that an action, as there was no action previous to the retreat. 

I love this man. So much. The sass of this man.

We don’t know if Washington was angry about the duel with Lee. We do know that Laurens, and probably Hamilton, had Christmas dinner with him two days later. When Hamilton left, it was because Washington had snapped over a misunderstanding (caused by Lafayette actually, and he really tried to make it better because Lafayette is a sweetheart), and then continued to deny Hamilton the command he requested, and he resigned. It was entirely unrelated to the duel and Laurens. However, the daddy issues are real.

I don’t know if Lafayette went to France for more funds and came back with more guns, but Laurens certainly did! Ben Franklin told him to chill, but he actually got super impatient and ended up supposedly disrespecting and maybe kinda threatening the court, demanding what he needed, and walking out. They were were kind of shocked and impressed into giving more than had been requested. Any existing deities bless John Laurens. I love him.

Lafayette actually nominated his own aide to lead the charge and Hamilton appealed for himself and Washington finally gave in to Hamilton.

Laurens was not in South Carolina. When he finally got back from France, he was sent to Yorktown. He actually was commanding the group Alexander led. (Power couple lol) He also helped with negotiations after the battle. Also, supposedly making the British play ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ on their way out was Laurens’ idea because boy is made of sass and spite.

Henry Laurens would not have sent a letter to Hamilton about John’s death. Even if he would have, he couldn’t. At that time, he’d been locked up in the Tower of London as a prisoner. We have no idea when or how Alexander found out, or who might have told him. We know he wrote to Nathanael Greene on October 25 and Lafayette on November 3 (literally 2 months after Laurens' death), and the mentions of Laurens were very short. It’s thought that he really couldn’t talk about Laurens. People have compared it to the stories of how Benjamin Tallmadge apparently couldn’t hear Nathan Hale’s name without crying.

After Yorktown Alexander resigned and John went down south to flush British troops out of the southern states. His group was ambushed at Combahee River and he decided to charge instead of wait for backup and he died. Many people think it was a combination of his usual recklessness, suicidality, and glory-seeking mixed with a desperation with the war coming to an end. It was such a small skirmish. He deserved better. He left his daughter, Frances, whom he had never met, orphaned, as her mother had died months earlier from sickness. She was adopted by John’s oldest younger sister, also coincidentally Martha Laurens (though married was Martha Laurens Ramsay).

The Levi Weeks case was years later than that, in 1800, though it was alongside Burr. Hamilton actually lost his first trial as a defense lawyer and was not with Burr.

The whole conversation where Hamilton proposes Burr help him write the Federalist Papers is fake. Lin made that up entirely.

John Church’s wealth kinda...varies. He was a gambler. At first, he was actually in quite a bit of debt. He did make it big eventually and he and Angelica moved to Europe. He really didn’t seem to be a lot of fun to most people, but Angelica eloped with him. She chose him against her father’s wishes. I don’t get why Lin kept writing lines saying she didn’t love him, at least at first. He also does this in the cut song Congratulations where she says “I languished in a loveless marriage” bish you eloped wat She also lived as a socialite and was adored by anyone who met her apparently, so like???? da fuq Lin. Didja really do Laurens dirty for these lies or at the very least uncertanties? Could you not prop up that romance without making her say she hates her husband?

Act 2

More of a personality miscommunication. Irl Thomas Jefferson was shy, quiet, and hypersensitive, nothing like how Daveed plays him. If you knew a guy like the real Jefferson in real life you might be endeared to him out of pity or because he seems sweet, but in the short time of a musical that would immediately be read as cold and unlikable. So the best way to portray “this guy is a likable asshole” is to make him loud and made of sass which is what Daveed does magnificently. So, not at all accurate to real Jefferson, but gets the concept of him across.

Thomas was not off getting high with the French. Probably. He was making negotiations for the Revolution. And abusing Sally Hemings (his, at the time, 14 year old slave, who was also his sister-in-law, and 30 years his junior, and was brought along to entertain his daughter). And actually probably chatting up with Angelica!

By the time Philip was 9, he had two sisters, Angelica (7) and his foster/adopted sister Frances Antill (6), but he also had two brothers already, Alexander Jr. (5) and James Alexander (3), with maybe another one on the way since William Stephen would be born next year.

The whole comma thing is backwards. It was Angelica who made the initial mistake. Hamilton pointedly and flirtatiously teased her about it before closing it with “Adieu ma chere, soeur” French for “Goodbye my dear, sister”. So it’s more playful and less lovey dovey in context, so the tone is all wrong. It’s not romantic, it’s teasing and snarky.

Say No To This feels like it’s over quick. The affair lasted a year, not just the summer Eliza was away.

Clermont Street wasn’t renamed until many years later.

I don’t know that Alex has always considered Burr a friend. Irl they weren’t as close, and Hamilton was keenly aware of how slimy Burr could be.

Lafayette was NOT fine. He was imprisoned a lot during the French Revolution, the poor man, and many members of his wife’s family were killed. HOWEVER! Hamilton was not just sitting by. Angelica and her husband did make an attempt to rescue Lafayette, and the Hamiltons fostered Lafayette’s son Georges Washington Lafayette (yes that was his actual name). So Hamilton also did not forget Lafayette.

Not all his defendants got acquitted, obviously. Stop being cocky, Ham.

People comment on how Jefferson whines about Hamilton’s fashion sense while literally dressed in violet velvet. The original plan was to have him in browns, but Daveed is just such a friggin star that they just had to give him something brighter and decided to go with a Prince-inspired look. Originally the browns were going to be representative of his supposed representation of farmers. Though note here: Jefferson’s agricultural representation is much the same as modern Republicans’ rural representation. More for show.

Actually, let's get political for a sec. I've done some research in my hyperfixation and in searches for Hamilton shiz I've ended up stumbling into far-right nonsense and I know how to recognize the degrees of nonsense from years of actually paying attention to it now because this is what I do apparently. Which is weird, right? Lin kinda portrays him like a lefty. Well, here's the thing. Any proud historically educated Republican will tell you that their roots are in the Federalist Party. Which is technically true. What they will neglect to mention is the flip between parties that happened when the Republicans decided to use southerners racism to their advantage in elections. Being subtly racist can get the racists and the non-racists on your side! Yeah, it's gross. Federalists are more like Democrats. The corporatists. They clearly care more about companies and Wall Street, but they put actual action into social progress on rare occasion. Democratic-Republicans are like Republicans, conservatives who don't want social change and rail against it and pretend they aren't for corporate interests while being just as bad as the other guys. But Republicans have a tendency to rewrite history to paint themselves as the good guys, or reclaim things that aren't theirs as their own. Just look at the Civil War! Or...literally just...America I guess. Yikes. But yeah, here's your warning. Don't just go looking at and trusting things labelled Federalist. It likely won't be friendly.

John Adams didn’t fire Hamilton, Hamilton left. Eventually. And this is not the only time this kind of verbal confrontation happens, and not the one that destroys the Federalist Party. That actually happens after the Reynolds Pamphlet. But John Adams hates Alexander Hamilton with the burning passion of a thousand suns and really kinda earns this.

I’m not sure if he specifically called Alex a Creole bastard but I wouldn’t be surprised, there were other similar racist and bastard-related insults. You know the tomcat thing mentioned above. He started the rumor of the affair with Angelica. He accused him of being a rake (male version of whore at the time). He also may have behind closed doors accused him of being a sodomite. His (probably gay) son Charles helped with that one, bringing back rumors from a dinner he had with Hamilton (who he was working for) and John Church because Church joked about Alex being fond of a guy. Adams probably thought working for Hamilton was what made his son gay and alcoholic (Charles was an alcoholic and may have died in part because of that; Hamilton was not an alcoholic, but he supposedly could not hold his drink. He was smol).

Jefferson, Madison, and Burr didn’t accuse Hamilton of speculation. It was James Monroe, Abraham Venable, and Frederick Muhlenberg. Lin wanted to keep consistent representation of the Democratic-Republican party. But anyway, the whole thing went to hell because Monroe sent the letters to Jefferson (or I’ve also heard Monroe gave them to Madison who sent them to Jefferson) who, the spiteful gangly fucker, started spreading rumors because fuck Hamilton, amirite? Hamilton challenged Monroe to a duel over that. And who stopped this duel? Aaron Burr. He gets to be the good guy now and then.

It wasn’t just total strangers that got Alex off the island. He was sponsored by his cousin Ann Lytton and his teacher Reverend Hugh Knox. Also, he was kind of expected to get an education and come back and help out the island...guess what he never did. Oops.

This one I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure. I think Eliza was upstate with her family when the Reynolds Pamphlet was released, away from Alex. I also know she had recently given birth to their son, William Stephen. A lot of people think Alexander had been keeping that in mind. Eliza had had a miscarriage once before, when she was under a lot of stress and alone and with the kids and he had to be away (Whiskey Rebellion), so some people think he made sure she was surrounded by her family and waited until the child was born to drop this on her, and gave her distance from him if she needed it. At least he knew he fucked up, and he really did love her.

Those weren’t Alexander’s guns. They belonged to John Church.

It was quite some time between Philip’s challenge and the actual duel.

Another age miscommunication; Eacker was 27ish and Philip was 19 when the duel happened. There was a whole 8 years between them! 

Eacker didn’t shoot early. Actually, both of them stood staring at each other for a really long time doing nothing. But Philip went to make a move and Eacker shot him.

Alex and Eliza had made up from the Reynolds Pamphlet bullshit before Philip died. When he passed, Eliza was already pregnant with the son they would also name Philip in honor of his older brother.

Hamilton wasn’t really the deciding factor in the election of 1800. But he did say that about Burr and it did help swing the vote somewhat. But also, this was before Philip died. Philip died in 1801.

If a vote is that close, you can’t win in a landslide??? That’s not how words work???? Mister Miranda????? You are a writer??????? Sir???????

Burr actually held a term as Jefferson’s Vice President.

The Burr vs Hamilton Duel was in 1804 and was actually about another election and other things Hamilton was saying about him. Burr was running to be governor of New York and lost but heard about Alexander telling people the things he listed Alexander saying in Your Obedient Servant.

Thayne should not have played Alexander’s doctor. Sydney should have played Alexander’s doctor. Do you know why? Philip and Alexander had the same doctor when they died. Alexander took that doctor with him to the duel. His name was David Hosack.

While there’s evidence to suggest Burr experienced immediate regret (he stepped forward as if wanting to see if Hamilton was okay and supposedly asked after him and wished him well before Alexander passed) in the years that followed, until he was on his death bed, he expressed nothing but neutrality or even pride for having shot Hamilton. The ‘the world was wide enough’ comment could plausibly be entirely made up, and even if it were true, it was supposedly said toward the end of Burr’s life. Burr's life was quite a ride after Alex. He tried to make like his own empire out of Texas, and then of course was tried for treason, but he got out of that, but then everyone hated him for that ON TOP OF already hating him for killing Hamilton, so he had some crazy journey around Europe for a while. He kept a journal, writing entries like letters to Theo. The most notable things I think he writes he'd "been amused for an hour with a very handsome young Dane. Don't smile. It is a male!" which implies maybe Theodosia knew her dad was bi and was at least amused by it? And he spent a while living with Jeremy Bentham, who is generally accepted to have been gay (if you want more Burr gayness look into Jonathan Bellamy and Robert Troup. Troup knew Hamilton too!). Unrelated to his sexuality but I find it important, Burr spent, in modern cash, $40 on a coconut, in his own words, "like an ass." He returned to America eventually. I dont remember if it was before or after his foreign adventures, but his beloved grandson (also named Aaron Burr) died, and then not long after, Theodosia was lost at sea on her way to visit her dad. No one knows what happened to her. It's so sad. Anyway he married a wealthy widow named Eliza, spent all her money on charity, and died the day their divorce was finalized. And Eliza Jumel's divorce lawyer was Alexander Hamilton Jr..

Poor Eliza couldn’t go through all of her husband’s papers. Her son, John Church Hamilton, finished the work for her when she no longer could and put together the biography that inspired Chernow’s that inspired Lin’s musical. (He named a son Alexander and a daughter Elizabeth. He even named one of his sons Laurens! Aw.) And we have come full circle.

The End :33

There’s probably more but that’s what I’ve got. Thanks for reading!

[comeonpeters]

Willex and 13?

13. cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

Things are... simpler, now that they’re not so worried about Caleb jolting them out of existence. Even Willie hasn’t seen him in the past month or so, so he comes around to watch them practice as much as he can; he watches over the Ghost Club somewhat, making sure that no one worse than Caleb tries anything, but Dante and Fuego watch over it too, so Alex gets some of his time too. They’re... they’re not dating, per se, no matter what Reggie and Luke and Julie and Flynn (Flynn, who still can’t even see them half the time - can see them sometimes since Julie’s touch thing, Alex doesn’t understand it and can’t think about it because changes - anyway) have to say about it. They’re just friends. 

Even if Alex does happen to like him a lot and he does happen to think they might have something sort of magical going on.  But that’s just him. What he’s not going to do is do anything resembling making the first move, no matter how much his stupid bandmates (Julie isn’t stupid, she’s an angel and he loves her, but the others, oh, they’re boneheads) tell him that Willie totally likes him back. 

He’s already dead, he doesn’t need to die of embarrassment too. 

He’s sitting at his drum set, getting ready for the next song when Willie comes in the back door of the studio and slips up behind him. He doesn’t even realize the other guy is there before there’s a chest against his back and a hand in his hair, both of which startle him enough that he squeaks. If he wasn’t already dead. The only reason he doesn’t immediately jet off of the stool is because he doesn’t want to accidentally hit Willie in the chin with his head. Willie feels him startle anyway. 

“Relax, hot dog, it’s just me. Reggie let me in the back door, told me you guys were taking a break in practice. Guess he forgot he didn’t have to let me in, huh?” Willie explains, speaking almost directly into Alex’s ear. There aren’t many circumstances where Willie is taller than Alex (Willie has to be standing on something taller than his board or Alex has to be sitting down, like now), and the sensation always makes Alex feel like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach in the best possible way. Combined with the impossible warmth of Willie - how is he so warm? He’s dead! - and the vibration of his voice against Alex’s skin, along with his fingers still in Alex’s hair, carding back through it, Alex can’t be blamed for the fact that he barely feels like he can string words together. 

“I - uh,” he starts, and then he stops, because he sounds kinda dumb, and Willie’s fingers card through his hard again, like he’s reassuring him, and Alex melts back against Willie’s chest a little bit. 

“You alright?” Willie asks, leaning forward to look Alex in the face. Once they make eye contact, he’s done for. Willie is just - he’s too - God. Alex leans up and he kisses Willie even though the angle is horrible and Willie’s hand is still in his hair and it’s probably not a good idea because Willie is so far out of his league they’re not even close to playing the same sport, but Willie kisses him back and the hive of thoughts in his head dull to a buzz. Willie grabs his waist and spins the stool, reducing their angle problem, but he keeps his hand in Alex’s hair and it grounds Alex to the moment, keeps him here, keeps him now and he wants to kiss Willie a lot. He wants to kiss Willie more than he’s ever wanted anything, maybe. That’s terrifying. It’s so terrifying to want something, even if it looks like you might get it. 

“Well, well, well, I am seeing chemistry. Are you seeing chemistry, Lucas? Because I am seeing chemistry.” Reginald fucking Peters. Alex is gonna kill him. 

“I’m gonna kill him,” he says against Willie’s lips once he pulls away, something that makes Willie crow with laughter. He kisses Alex again, and Alex feels a little less angry, a little less embarrassed. Alex could probably get over just about anything if he keeps kissing him. 

“Can’t kill what’s already dead, pretty boy. Might wanna get over that one,” Willie says, kissing his cheek and leaning away, stepping out of his space. He called me pretty boy. Butterflies flap their wings in Alex’s stomach. Willie moves to be in front of the band, where people (Willie and Flynn, anyway), usually sit to watch, and Alex turns to keep watching him. He can’t take his eyes off of him. Willie gives him another unbelievably charming smile. “Don’t you guys need to practice?” 

[bibbawrites]

Do you have any random headcanon that you haven't been able to share yet? And if not, headcanons about angry Owen?

my head is full of random headcanons, for the cast and the characters, some that are the more common ones, such as sexuality (pan!luke, bi!reggie, lesbian!flynn, lesbian!carrie) and other fandom wide headcanons, so i shall give you my favourite one of my own for each person for now:

Charlie:

pretty certain this is already true lol but the biggest flirt you will ever meet, even when you’re already dating him. he would be constantly flirting with you to the point where other women have checked if you’re okay before and you just thank them and tell them that you have a dumbass for a boyfriend

also (i know i said i’d only do one but this ties into it) your family would love him from the second they met him, he has such a bubbly and charming personality that they wouldn’t even take a whole minute to love him (i’m just picturing a massive family dinner that you brought him to and he ends up sitting next to your grandma exchanging stories the whole night, and at some point he leaves to go to the bathroom or get a drink or something and your grandma goes “oh he’s a nice boy isnt he?” and when it’s time to leave she gives him a massive hug and he’s already organised to go visit her for tea that week 🥺)

Owen

(you mentioned angry owen, so let’s discuss)

this could just be me projecting but i feel like owen wouldn’t be the type to get outwardly angry? like his anxiety would make him worried about the confrontation and worried that if he got upset with you that you’d leave him (which wouldn’t be true at all), so instead he just gets really quiet and avoids you, and that’s when you know he’s mad at you

Savannah

i think i’ve mentioned this one before but wearing each other’s clothes if you were friends or dating, to the point where the two of you pretty much have one larger wardrobe instead of two smaller ones. there’s stuff in your wardrobe that you don’t even know who the original owner was cause you’ve both worn it so often

Luke Patterson

never got his drivers license. we see him riding a bike around in flashbacks, so i headcanon that he never got around to getting his drivers license cause he was too focused on the band at first, and then he died so now he has no need to know how to drive (i also headcanon that reggie never got his license either, only alex and bobby had them so whenever they were going to perform somewhere they would split up between bobby’s car and alex’s parents car that he borrowed, so that they could get all of their equipment and themselves to the gig)

Alex Mercer

i know other people have said this too but i can see alex coming from a big family, with like 6 kids and his grandparents living close enough that they would be over constantly, and when alex came out some of his siblings were supportive, and his nanna was supportive but everyone else just pretended that he had never told them (why am i picturing his nanna knitting a pride flag scarf for him, and telling all of her friends at bingo about her sweet gay grandson in hopes that one of them would also have a gay grandson to set alex up with)

Reggie Peters

my biggest headcanon for reggie is that he took up photography after spending time with ray, because he wanted something to make him feel closer to the man, plus he realised how cool photography actually was (bonus if the boys are visible to julie’s family now and ray himself teaches reggie the do’s and don’ts of photography, and even buys him his first camera, a gift that reggie treasures, and never leaves home without)

(also bonus but neurodivergent reggie please)

Julie Molina

on her 18th birthday she would go out and get a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on a dahlia that she would keep hidden from ray for the longest time until eventually one day she forgets to hide it and he sees it and goes “oh wow thats pretty” and thats all, he doesnt freak out at all like she thought he might 

Flynn

practically lives at the molina’s 50% of the time, to the point where she has her own draw of clothes in julie’s room and her own toiletries in the bathroom, and occasionally when she’s at her own house she’ll have to text julie to check if a certain item of clothing was in her drawer cause flynn really wanted it for school the next day and couldn’t find it anywhere

Carrie Wilson

is actually not a horrible person, she just has walls up to keep people out after her mother left/died/went away, cause she’s so terrified that everyone else is going to leave her too, which only gets cemented when julie and flynn stop being her friend

[missmitchieg]

"You're all gonna be ok."

An hour of waiting later, Bobby was pacing back and forth in The Orpheum, wondering where the rest of his band was. They should've been back at least fifteen minutes ago. It doesn't take this long to get some hotdogs, eat quickly and come back.

Rose watched him pace nervously with a frown, her own anxiety growing in her stomach. "They might be fine, Bobby. They probably just got stuck in traffic." She told him, not so sure if she was trying to convince him or herself of that hypothetical.

"And what if they didn't, Rose?" Bobby countered and gave her a look, thinking of every possible reason for the guys to not be there. "What if they're in trouble?" He looked at the ceiling, pushing his hair back for the millionth time.

"And what if they are?" Rose countered back, and Bobby stopped to look at her again.

He turned his body toward her and crossed his arms, shaking his head. "They would've called." He said, looking up when he heard a voice say his name.

"Call for a Bobby Wilson?"

Bobby bit his lip nervously, taking Rose's hand in his. He walked toward the guy with the phone, taking it from him. "Hello? Bobby Wilson speaking."

Rose gave him an encouraging smile when Bobby took her hand and stayed close to him, hoping her presence was comforting and not overbearing or upsetting.

"Hello, Bobby. I'm calling from Dignity Health Hospital. I believe your friends are here. They refused to give their parents' phone numbers and insisted we call you at The Orpheum."

Bobby gasped softly and squeezed Rose's hand, his breathing and heart rate picking up as the polite voice of the woman over the phone listed off the names of his band mates, his best friends, his family, one by one.

"Alex Mercer. Luke Patterson. Reggie Peters."

The next few moments happen in a blur for Bobby. Squeezing Rose's hand once more. Taking a deep shaky breath and clearing his throat. Thanking the woman and hanging up. Telling Rose where the boys were. Rose pulling him outside and yelling for a taxi. The four minute car ride to the hospital. The walk inside. Every noise sounded like he was under water.

Rose gave Bobby a worried look and rubbed circles in his hand with her thumb as they walked inside together and asked the receptionist about the guys. Tears streaming down her face, she walked to the room the boys would be in, Bobby right behind her.

Being in the room, seeing the guys, was what broke Bobby out of his daze. He blinked and shook his head, moving to stand in between Reggie's, who was groaning into his bedpan, and Alex's, who a nurse explained had to be sedated because he was panicking so badly, beds while Rose went straight to Luke's bed. He wasn't going to lie. All three of them looked like Hell. "You're ok, Reggie. You're all gonna be ok." Bobby promised. He hoped he could keep that promise.

"What happened, boys?" Rose asked, gently smoothing the hair off Luke's sweaty forehead. She frowned as Luke let out a shuddering breath and gagged, being sick into his bedpan.

"Food poisoning." The doctor said from the other side of Reggie's bed. "Lucky they got in when they did, or-" He scowled, giving them a 'well, you know' sort of look. "They'll have to stay for a week to get fluids and regular checks on their hearts and kidneys."

"Wh- A week?!" Luke shook his head weakly, trying to get out of his bed. He couldn't be stuck in there for a week. He had things to do! "No, no, no. We have to go perform!" He told them, trying to kick his left leg over the side of the bed.

"Luke." Rose said with a frown. "Luke, no." She said, gently pushing him back into a laying position in his bed.

"Perfo- None of you are in any condition to perform!" Bobby huffed, shaking his head incredulously. How could Luke still be thinking about performing when a doctor had just informed him that he almost died?! "You are in a hospital bed and hooked up to IVs, Luke!" He pointed out, gesturing to the machine monitoring his vitals.

"But-" But they were gonna be Legends! They had to play The Orpheum!

"Luke! No!" Bobby yelled. "You guys almost died! You should be sleeping and recuperating right now!"

"Bobby." Rose started, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should sit down."

Bobby frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm fine, Rose."

"You're not." Rose and Reggie said together.

"Reggie-"

"Bobin, you should go home. Rest." Reggie said softly, pleading with his eyes for Bobby to not worry, to sit down.

"No. No way. I'm not leaving you." Bobby insisted, taking Reggie's hand that didn't have a giant IV needle shoved into it in his own. "I'm not letting you guys leave my sight. Not again." He promised.

Reggie frowned at that, knowing Bobby well enough to know that he was being stubborn because he blamed himself. He blamed himself because he told them to go get hot dogs. He told them to go get hot dogs and they landed them in the hospital. Reggie shook his head, opening his mouth to say something before he felt like he was going to puke again, grabbing his bedpan.

Bobby frowned guiltily at that, rubbing comforting circles into Reggie's back. "You'll get better, Gigi. The week'll go by in no time, and then we can get all of you back home."

Reggie was sick into his bed pan and wiped away the crud with a hand towel the nurse gave him, smiling weakly at Bobby. "You're a sweetheart, Bobins."

Bobby smiled at that, gently stroking a hand through Reggie's hair. "You know I just care about you."

Rose watched the exchange with a small smile, sharing a look with Luke to ask 'so are they really always like this?'.

Luke chuckled softly and nodded, whispering to her that they were so embarrassingly in love and too scared to do anything about it.

Rose bit her lip to hide a smirk and leaned in close to whisper a secret in Luke's ear, making him snort and slap a hand over his mouth. He looked at her and gave a 'really?' look.

Rose giggled and nodded, putting a finger to her lips to keep quiet about it.

"What are you two giggling about?" Bobby asked them with a smile.

"Noooothing."

Bobby scoffed and shook his head with a disbelieving smirk while Rose just smiled innocently back at him.

Their time in the hospital went similarly for the next week. Rose and Bobby would come plowing in the second visitor's hours started, Luke would complain about still being stuck in the hospital, Bobby would go straight to Reggie's side, and Rose straight to Luke's side. Bobby and Reggie would flirt like crazy and Rose and Luke would chuckle and shake their heads at them, Alex joining in pretty instantly.

Bobby and Rose had grown pretty close to the boys' nurses in that time, and even convinced them to play their demo CD on occasion. Reggie always piped in with a quick 'Tell your friends!', charming every nurse that looked his way.

The day finally came to leave, and the nurses all acted absolutely devastated for them to go, even if it just meant a full recovery. The nurses loved the kids, and the kids loved the nurses.

"Bye, Ester. Enjoy the rest of your life!" Rose grinned at the last nurse as they walked out as a group, Bobby and Reggie holding hands and Rose holding Luke and Alex' hands. "So, who's house are we going to first?" She asked, excited to maybe meet a few of their parents.

"Oh, I'm taking you to your place and we're all going back to my garage." Bobby answered casually.

"Your garage?"

"We all kinda live there." Luke shrugged and just kept walking. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big- You live in a garage!" Rose exclaimed, shaking her head. This simply wouldn't do. "Excuse me, I have to make a call." She said and walked away toward the nearest payphone. She put in a quarter and dialed her home phone, grinning when her sister answered. "Hey, Victoria! I need a little baby sized favor. Can you ask mama to set a few extra places at the table tonight, please?"

"How many?"

"Uh... Four."

"...Explain."

Rose winced and sighed, pushing her hair back. "I met these boys living in their friends' garage-"

"Wait, are these the people you've been meeting with all week?" Victoria questioned.

"Yeah, at the hospital."

"Woah, what?"

"Can you just ask mama?"

"Fine, but you better let me borrow that dress in the back of your closet."

"S-sure." Rose rolled her eyes. "Thanks, bye." She said and hung up, walking back to the boys. "We're all going to my place for dinner."

"Rosie, you d-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Bobbers." Rose smiled at the nickname. Bobby had quite a few. She learned that quickly. There was just one little nickname only Reggie was allowed to use, though. Bobins. Rose thought it was absolutely precious when she found out and respected that only Reggie could called him that.

"Rose."

"You boys deserve better than a garage and some take out, or some poisonous hot dogs." She smirked. "You're getting a real meal tonight."

The boys looked at her for a minute and smiled gratefully, appreciating how much Rose had grown to care for them in the week they had known each other. Bobby hailed a taxi and they piled in one by one, Rose giving directions to her house.

Bobby smiled as he handed the driver some money and everyone piled out of the car, following Rose to her house.

"Now, no need to be nervous about meeting my mom. Mi mama loves everybody. It's my sister you need to worry about." She explained and rang the doorbell.

"Noted." Bobby smiled, squeezing Reggie's hand. He smiled politely as Rose's sister opened the door and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her.

"Rosita, are these the boys you told me about over the phone?" Victoria asked sternly with her hands on her hips.

"Yes, Tori. This is Luke." Rose gestured toward Luke.

"Hey." Luke gave her a grin.

"Alex."

"Hi, there." Alex smiled and threw up a peace sign.

"Reggie."

"Hi!" Reggie gave a bright grin and waved with his free hand.

"And Bobby."

"Hi." Bobby smiled.

"Hi." Victoria said slowly after a minute. "You said something about a garage, Rose?"

Luke winced, nodding. "We kinda were living in Bobby's garage before the week in the hospital. He had the best place."

"Only because you ran away and refused to go back." Bobby pointed out.

"And the hospital trip?"

"We ate some bad hot dogs."

Victoria blinked at that and sighed, pinching her nose. She was so done with her sister right now. "You know what. Just come in." She said and pulled the door open, letting everyone in. "Mama! Rose and her friends are here!"

"Hi, mama!" Rose grinned happily and led the boys to the dining room.

"Rosita, there you are!" The boys heard Rose's mom, Carla call from the kitchen and watched her put bowls and plates of food on the table, kissing Rose's head. "So these are your friends?"

"Rose spent her entire week next to their hospital beds." Victoria said dryly as she sat down.

"What? Oh, what happened, bebes?"

"They, uh, ate bad hot dogs the night I met them and I decided I wanted to be around while they got better."

"Don't your parents feed you?" Carla asked, her jaw dropping when the boys frowned and stayed silent. "Ohh... You boys can come over for some food or just hang out any time." She offered.

Luke smiled at that and nodded, biting into his food. "Gracias."

"We really appreciate that." Bobby said gratefully, sipping his water.

"No, I don't wanna impose." Alex shook his head.

"Oh, nonsense!" Carla shook her head with a wave of her hand. "I would love some more company in this big house."

"And we would love to hang out here." Reggie nodded. "Maybe we could rehearse here."

"But how would we get our instruments in here?" Alex questioned. "Plus, I don't think they would appreciate the noise."

"Instruments? You boys are in a band?" Victoria asked.

"Oh, yeah. We're Sunset Curve!" Luke grinned.

"Tell your friends!"

"Oh, I have a copy of their demo in my backpack! I'll play it after dinner! Oh, you're gonna love them! They're amazing!"

"You're amazing, Rosie. And so are you." Reggie grinned at Carla, happily eating another tamale.

"I just love you guys and I know you'll make it." Rose told them, her eyes flickering toward Reggie and Bobby holding hands under the table. She snickered and covered her mouth, giving them a grin as the boys blushed and smiled at each other.

Carla watched them and grinned, her eyes sparkling. "And how long have you two been together?"

"Um, officially, two days." Bobby answered. "But I think we've kinda always been together? So, about four years."

"I can confirm they have acted like a married couple ever since they met." Alex nodded.

"As if you and Lucas don't act the same." Rose sassed gently.

Victoria snorted, licking her lips.

Reggie laughed, nodding quickly. "You kinda do, even though you're broken up."

"And we broke up-" "-for a reason." Luke and Alex said together and Reggie laughed again, this time hiding his face in Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby smiled fondly and kissed his head, thinking back to two days ago when Rose had finally broken him down and forced him to tell Reggie about his feelings.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Bobby smiled as he watched Reggie talk animatedly about something to Alex, mouth going a mile a minute. He laughed when Reggie chuckled, biting his lip fondly. God, Reggie was adorable when he got excited. He tilted his head as he kept watching Reggie, his skin almost sparkling in the sunshine. He loved to sit back and watch Reggie just be, especially now when they were sat outside, the boys set free from their hospital room for just half an hour.

He sighed happily and rested his chin on his hand, feeling two pairs of eyes on him. Slowly, he blinked and turned to give the eyes a tense grin and a slight shake of his head. He was met with twin glares at that, and sighed when they both gestured toward Reggie. He pushed his hair back and watched him for another minute before giving in and walking toward the sweet boy. "Hey, Reg?"

Reggie looked up from where he was sitting in the middle of telling a story and smiled, fixing his jacket. "Yeah, Bobins?"

Bobby grinned at the nickname and knelt next to him, glancing at a smiling Alex. "Lex, you think I can get a minute alone with him?" He asked, giving him a pointed look and nudged his head toward Reggie.

Alex tilted his head, his eyes almost popping out of his head and a grin overtaking his face as he realized why Bobby was asking for this. "OH, yeah! Sure! I'll go bother Rosie and Luke about my thing. You two have your little talk." He grinned, giving Bobby a subtle wink as he walked toward Rose and Luke. "Hey, Patterson!"

Bobby rolled his eyes and sighed, sinking to sit on his knees next to Reggie. He looked up to see Reggie smiling at him and crossing his legs. He gulped and looked around, fiddling with his bracelets as he looked for a way to start talking.

"What's going on?" Reggie asked, breaking Bobby out of his thoughts.

"O-oh. I just, um, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to, um-" Bobby stopped and groaned, shifting to sit on his butt and burying his face in his knees. He was definitely overthinking how to do this.

"Bobs?" Reggie asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby looked up and felt the corner of his mouth tug into a smile at the sweet, reassuring grin Reggie was giving him, placing his own hand over Reggie's. He took a deep breath and looked up at him, squeezing his hand. "I was just thinking, when they let you guys out of here, maybe you and I could go see a movie or something? Just you and me?" He bit his lip.

"One-on-one time with you? I'm in!" Reggie nodded instantly. "You know I'm always up for hanging out with my best friend, Bobby." He grinned.

Bobby raised his eyebrows fondly and chuckled, shifting closer to him. "I know. Because you're just like that, Gigi." He smiled. "But what I meant was, like, on a date." He told him and worried his lip again, watching his reaction.

Reggie blinked and blushed as red as his flannel, running a hand through his hair. "O-oh! Um-" He chuckled, wringing his hands. "Are you sure, Bobins? You sure you want me? I'm kind of a lot, you know."

Bobby furrowed his eyebrows at the question and nodded, reaching out to take back the hand that left his empty. "Um, yeah. I know. I've known you for years, and I'm sure I want you." He said, letting his hand fall palm up on the ground so Reggie could take it on his own if he wanted to.

"I just think, you know, you have a lot of options at school. Fans of the band." Reggie told him, pausing every few words to think.

"Uh huh...?" Bobby answered slowly, frowning at him. He wasn't liking where Reggie was going.

"And you know, a lot of people like you. Not just me."

Bobby perked up at that and smiled, tilting his head.

"There's Chuckie in out Math class, and Grace and Anna from History. And there's Judy in Sci-"

"Reggie." Bobby cut him off from listing every kid in their classes, reaching his other hand up to cup Reggie's cheek. "Sweetheart, I don't want those other people. I want you. I like you. You like me. What's stopping us?"

Reggie frowned, leaning into the hand on his cheek. He stayed silent, but Bobby could tell there were things he wanted to say.

"Gigi." He coaxed gently, nudging him with the hand on the ground.

Reggie sighed, reaching down to take his hand. "I want to, Bobby. I really, really want to."

"But?"

"But you don't deserve my mess. You're too good. You shouldn't have to deal with me. I'm too much work. I'm too messed up."

Bobby frowned, shaking his head. "Reggie. Gigi. Sweetheart." He started. "Look at me."

Reggie sighed again and looked at Bobby, licking his lips.

"What if I told you, I'm ok with that? What if I told you I want to 'deal with' all of you and your 'mess'?" Bobby lifted a hand to cut Reggie off before he could start talking. "What if I told you, you're worth it all to me? What if I told you I think you're worth the work it takes to love you?"

"Oh..." Reggie let out a breath, his eyes flickering from Bobby's warm brown eyes to his lips and back. "Well, then. That-" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "That changes things a little bit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Reggie?"

"Yeah, Bobins?"

Bobby smiled and leaned in slowly, giving Reggie time to pull away if he didn't want to. He pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, left hand reaching into Reggie's hair and right hand still lovingly cradling Reggie's cheek. He pulled away after a while and bit his lip, hunching his shoulders slightly. "Was that ok? I mean, I don't want you to be-"

"Bobbers."

"-Incomfortable. You can still say no. I just want you to kn-"

"Bobble."

"-That I really, really like you and I want to be with you, and-"

"Bobby!"

Bobby blinked at Reggie shouting his name and shut up, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Y-yeah, Gigi?"

"Bobby, just kiss me again." Reggie smiled, wrapping his arms around Bobby's neck.

Bobby smiled sweetly at the boy and kissed him again, pulling away when he heard a few very familiar voices whoop and ooh at them. He looked back to see Luke, Rose, Alex and even a couple of the nurses that worked at the hospital, watching them with big matching grins on their faces. He laughed at that and shook his head, turning back toward Reggie. "So does this mean we're boyfriends now?" He asked quietly, grinning when Reggie nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're boyfriends." Reggie told him, kissing him again.

Bobby was shaken from the memory when Reggie, precious, kind, adorable, sweet boy that he is, patted his shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" Bobby asked, shaking his head slightly.

"You alright?" Reggie smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"Seemed pretty deep in thought." Victoria noted.

Reggie nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand.

"Just thinking back to two days ago." Bobby smiled, rubbing circles in Reggie's hand. "But I'm back." He assured them, and everyone finished their food.

They cleaned up together and Bobby smiled as he watched Luke and Alex double team the dirty dishes while Rose and Tori washed and put away the silverware, and just listened to Reggie telling him about a dream he had last night. He sighed happily, hugging him from behind and leaning his head against Reggie's. He was pretty sure life couldn't get much better than this. This was pretty close to perfect, if you asked him.

[c-optimistic]

ally

She was led into an office and left alone with a cup of lukewarm coffee for nearly fifteen minutes before the door opened to reveal Maggie Sawyer.

Lena couldn’t exactly help her eye-roll.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, detective, but I was under the impression your job involved investigating aliens in National City, not just Luthors.”

“Brr,” Maggie said, grinning as she sat down in the seat next to Lena. “You know, I’ve heard of the world famous icy Luthor charm, but damn if those descriptions don’t do you justice.” She leaned back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest, still grinning—much to Lena’s annoyance.

“What are you doing here?”

“You may find this hard to believe, but I’m here for you.”

“Funny, I do find that hard to believe,” Lena said, leaning back as well. “Can you tell me what’s going on at least?”

To Maggie’s credit, she looked conflicted for a moment, like she was actually debating on telling Lena the truth.

“I can tell you that I really want to be here to see the look on your face,” she finally said, shrugging a little. “And also because I promised my friend who works for social services that I wouldn’t leave her alone with you.”

“Social services? Why would—”

She was interrupted when the door opened again, a small woman with short hair entering the office with a vaguely worried expression on her face. It was obvious she was the friend Maggie had mentioned, if the tiny smile Maggie gave her was any indication. Lena watched her settle into the only empty seat left—across the table from Lena and Maggie—and clasped her hands together, sitting up straight and meeting Lena in the eye.

“Ms. Luthor,” she began, her voice gruffer than Lena expected. “My name is Sarah Wilkins. I work with Child Protective Services. I’m here to speak with you about Ally.”

Lena blinked, not following at all.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Alexandra Peters, your niece.”

The laugh that escaped her wasn’t her fault at all, though judging by the look on Maggie’s face, the wince and then frown, it likely wasn’t appropriate. Thoughts of this being one grand joke were immediately replaced by the nagging suspicion that her life would be upturned once again by something Lex had done.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I don’t have a niece. You see, my brother is in maximum security, and his chances of having a child are, well, low.”

Maggie and Sarah exchanged a long look and Lena shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Ally is six months away from her second birthday, Ms. Luthor. She was born before your brother was put away.” Or, Sarah didn’t say, Lex had plenty of time to have a child. Rather than speak, Lena continued to stare at Sarah, waiting for her to get to the point. “About a month ago, Ally’s mother, a Gwen Peters, died in a car accident—”

“Was it…?” Lena trailed off, unable to even finish the thought. To her shock, Sarah seemed to understand, her eyes even softening.

“It seems to have been just an accident. A tragic one, of course, but an accident all the same.” She stressed it enough that Lena found herself believing her. “Ally was placed in the care of her maternal grandparents, but CPS has recently discovered…well, to put it bluntly, the Peters are not fit to raise a young child. Which is where you come in.” She blinked, pausing long enough to needlessly straighten her blazer and to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “In Ms. Peters’ Will, in the event that her parents are unable to care for her daughter, she names you as Ally’s guardian.”

“I don’t even know Gwen Peters,” Lena protested immediately, shaking her head.

“That’s not actually true,” Maggie interrupted, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder briefly. “You might not remember her, but she apparently worked with you in R&D at LuthorCorp for nearly two years before you began taking over your brother’s responsibilities after your father passed away.”

“And more to the point, Ms. Peters was quite adamant that Ally remained with family in the event of her death. And Ms. Luthor, you’re all the family Ally has left.”

Lena gaped at the two woman—at Sarah’s calm expression and Maggie’s suddenly concerned one—and shook her head again.

“I’m—no. How do we even know she’s actually Lex’s daughter? And why would—was the woman mad, wanting a Luthor raising her child?”

Sarah and Maggie exchanged another look and this time Lena could read the sadness in Maggie’s eyes, the reluctance in Sarah’s.

“Let me put it this way, Ms. Luthor. Without you, Ally will find herself in foster care. Is that something you want for your niece?”

(She thought about her own upbringing, raised amongst a father who paid her very little attention, a mother who hated her, and a brother who eventually left her. She thought about her loneliness, her ineptitude with anything relating to emotions, and the fact that everything she touched slowly wasted away.

But most of all, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kara’s, she thought about how she could never leave family behind—even a niece she hadn’t known about fifteen minutes ago, a niece she hadn’t even imagined could exist.)

“No,” she said, voice not shaking despite the trembling of her hands. “So? What do I have to sign?”

x

“You know, I looked her up,” Lena called out, childproofing the last of her cabinets, smiling slightly at her finished work.

“Looked who up?” Kara asked from where she sat on the ground, surrounded by all sorts of screws and pieces of furniture, an adorable crease between her brows as she studied the instructions for the crib. “By the way, Lena, I’m ninety percent positive that there’s at least three pieces missing.”

“Gwen Peters,” Lena said shortly, walking over to Kara and studying the crib. “I’m ninety percent sure you attached the head to the wrong piece.”

“Oh for the love of—” Kara cut herself off, unscrewing all her hard work and resigning herself to starting from the beginning. “So? What did you learn about Gwen Peters?”

“She was smart. It’s no wonder Lex liked her enough to…” She trailed off, not quite sure what she was trying to say. Kara kept fiddling with the two pieces she had in her hands until she realized that Lena had gone silent, looking up worriedly. Whatever she saw on Lena’s face spurred her into action; in one quick movement, she’d abandoned the crib entirely and was on her feet, approaching Lena slowly (as if she didn’t want to spook her).

“You did the right thing, Lena,” Kara said softly, and Lena nearly laughed, wondering how on Earth Kara had understood what she was actually trying to say (how Kara had heard the I can’t raise a kid, don’t you think Ally deserves better, what am I doing? in between the admiration she felt for Gwen Peters and the reignited anger she felt for Lex). “And it’s not as if you’re going to be doing any of this alone.”

“Sorry?”

“What? You thought I’d let you deal with something this big by yourself?” Kara rolled her eyes and reached out to squeeze Lena’s hand before turning on her heel and crouching back down next to the mangled remains of the crib. “Maggie claims she’s great with kids, and Alex is a doctor, and James can soothe any baby it’s practically magic I’ve seen it, and not to brag but Winn and I are greatbabysitters, we only lost Carter for an hour tops—”

“—you lost a child?” Lena tried to interrupt, but Kara was on a roll and didn’t seem to be listening at all.

“—so really, between all of us, Ally won’t even have time to feel lonely.”

(She talked as if they’d all be around when Ally was much older, when she knew enough about her family—her father—to feel sad.

Kara talked as if she and her sister and her friends were accepting responsibility for Lena’s niece as well, and it was overwhelming.)

“Kara…you can’t—I don’t know how much Maggie or your sister would appreciate being dragged into this mess,” Lena said, staring at Kara’s back, clenching her hands into fists in order to hide their shakiness.

Kara waved her off without even turning to look at her.

“Well, you’re my friend,” she said easily, picking up one of the pieces of wood and studying it before dropping it back down. “And by extension, my friends are your friends. And friends help out.” She turned her head, gracing Lena with a small smile. “I’ve said ‘friend’ too many times, but the point is you’re not in this alone, Lena. And if I have to spend all night figuring this crib out for you to accept it, then I’ll do just that.”

Lena laughed, recognizing a lost cause when she saw one, and crossed over to sit down next to Kara, hands finally unclenching.

“You know, I gave you the easy job.”

“The easy job, says the engineer,” Kara huffed in mock annoyance. “Fine then, show me how it’s done.”

x

“She sort of looks like him,” Lena said, head tilted to the side as she studied the slumbering Ally. They’d brought her home—and that phrase in and of itself boggled Lena’s mind, she brought her niece to her home, two words she never thought she’d think in relation to herself—earlier that morning, all the paperwork finished, Maggie’s friend Sarah long gone. “Doesn’t she?”

“I was going to say she looks like you,” Maggie called from the kitchen, busy digging through Lena’s fridge, searching for something to eat. Lena wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the familiarity Maggie presumed, but she didn’t comment on it. Even if it was unnerving, it was nice. “The dark hair, the pretty eyes. She’ll end up with that strong Luthor jaw too, just you wait.”

“You think I have pretty eyes, Sawyer?” Lena asked, focusing on only a single part of Maggie’s comment, blinking and turning to look at the detective. Someone snorted indignantly in the living room, where Kara and Alex were arguing in whispers over how to use a camera James had given Lena earlier in the week (calling it a peace offering, an apology, a gift he’d thought she could use what with having a child in her life), and Lena found herself smiling.

“I’m right here, Maggie,” Alex deadpanned, though judging from the way she was looking at Kara, she hadn’t been the one to snort. “And everyone knows you have pretty eyes,” Alex continued, not looking away from her sister. “Wasn’t there an article about it in the last issue of CatCo Magazine? Kara?” she prompted when Kara seemed much more interested in the camera than in the conversations around her.

“Who knows really? Maybe. Laurie might have pitched it. She might have spent over a day looking at photos of Lena, asking for everyone’s opinion for which picture showed off her eyes the most. I might have accidentally—” Kara stopped suddenly, clearing her throat and looking up, eyes flitting over Lena’s face briefly before throwing Alex and Maggie a dirty look—one that Lena hadn’t really known Kara was capable of making. “I mean, I was on assignment. Reporting the news. Doing my job. You know…writing.”

“Are you having a stroke, Kara?” Maggie asked casually, abandoning her search for food.

“She doesn’t look like him,” Alex informed Lena, ignoring her sister and girlfriend entirely. Sparing her sister an odd glance, as if silently promising a future (and private) conversation, Alex focused her attention on Lena. “She just looks like a kid. Because that’s what she is, Lena.”

(And Lena knew what Alex was actually trying to say, even if she didn’t know the elder Danvers as well as Kara, even if she was sometimes slightly intimidated by Alex. She knew that she was telling her not to worry, telling her to forget the nature versus nurture debate, telling her to remember that Ally was just a child who needed a loving family, that the sins of the father did not extend to Ally.

She was telling Lena to relax, that she could do this, and Lena marveled at the fact that Alex could say so much in so few words. She thought it might have been a sibling thing—or maybe just an Alex thing.)

“You’re right,” Lena whispered, eyes falling to Ally again, still slumbering peacefully in the crib Lena had suggested they leave out in the open where she could always see it, at least for a while (a part of her still thinking this was just a dream and she’d wake up and find she’d imagined the whole thing). “She’s just a kid.”

She reached down to gently smooth back some of Ally’s dark, curly hair, and without thought, warning, or preparation, Lena Luthor promptly fell in love with her niece.

x

She wasn’t going to call Kara, she told herself determinedly, huffing a breath and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she took in her niece’s red face. This was okay, this was manageable, she did notneed Kara. The fact that Ally had finally stopped crying gave a little bit more credence to her argument, but her soaked clothes and disaster zone of a bathroom spoke otherwise. But Lena did not need Kara.

At least, she didn’t think so.

“Come on, Ally,” she practically begged, dropping to her knees next to the bathtub and looking at her niece carefully. “You need a bath.”

Ally, standing shakily next to the bathtub, glared—yes, glared—at Lena, her blue eyes a little bit too fiery for Lena’s comfort.

“No,” she said resolutely, accentuating her point with a firm shake of her head.

It was undeniably frustrating and inconveniently endearing.

(In the past week, Lena had learned a great deal about her niece, first and foremost being that she inherited her parents’ intelligence, something Lena wasn’t sure she was entirely glad for yet. For example, though Ally didn’t speak more than a dozen or so words, it was always quite clear she understood everything that was said and done around her. She couldn’t confront Lena, tell her she knew that Lena wasn’t her mother—that she wasn’t even familiar—but she managed to convey those feelings by refusing simple tasks, like bath time, glaring at her food suspiciously, refusing to sleep until she literally passed out from sheer exhaustion.

In fact, most times it was only Kara who could coax Ally into doing anything—changing, bathing, sleeping, eating, it didn’t matter. Kara claimed it was because she just had ‘one of those faces’ but Lena wondered if her niece felt the same thing she had felt the day she first met Kara: an inexplicable pull, an undeniable trust.

Most obvious, however, was that Ally was full to the brim with what Maggie liked to call ‘the charming Luthor stubbornness’ something Lena found less and less charming every day.)

“Ally, please.”

“No,” her niece repeated, eyes actually narrowing.

(She’d been reading extensively about children and development and all the ins and outs of raising a child that wasn’t even yet two. She knew she had to be firm, knew that children took advantage of leniency, knew that she had to set boundaries as the adult. And yet…

She remembered her own harsh upbringing, the cold glances from nannies, the disinterest from Lionel, the outright aggression at times from Lillian. She remembered not feeling wanted or liked or even tolerated, and though she knew she had to be harder on Ally—put her foot down, so to speak—she just didn’t have the heart, even if she knew it wouldn’t be the same, that she’d never go too far.

She didn’t want to be a Luthor with her, even accidentally—even just out of habit. She didn’t want her to have the same childhood Lena suffered through.)

“What if I told you a story?”

(It was a last ditch effort, she didn’t think Ally would go for it.

Lena resigned herself to calling Kara yet again.)

Just as Lena made to get up, reaching for her phone, Ally held up her arms, finally acquiescing to her bath, allowing Lena to pick her up and place her in the tub. And Lena, woefully ill prepared for an impromptu story-time, cleared her throat and began to talk about the one thing she knew Ally would love—a tale about Supergirl.

By the end of bath-time, as Lena was drying off her niece, she earned the one thing only Kara had managed to coax out of Ally thus far: a smile.

x

She was in a meeting when it happened, arguing with some arrogant, narrow-minded old man who believed he knew what was best for her company. She was in a meeting, one she told Jess not to interrupt under any circumstances (wanting to put the old man in his place, needing the time and the privacy to do so), one she hadn’t expected to drag on quite as long as it did.

She was in a meeting when Ally was rushed to the hospital.

(Later, after she waved away all the apologies from the woman who ran the ridiculously expensive daycare, after she assured Jess she was right to contact Kara, after the doctor had smiled at Lena and swore up and down that Ally was fine—“She’s a child, Ms. Luthor, this sort of comes with the territory of being a parent”—and Alex and given Lena a sympathetic look, Lena collapsed in one of the uncomfortable hospital room chairs, head in her hands, body trembling.

She was in a meeting, she was rolling her eyes at the words of an insignificant man while her niece was struggling to breathe—because Lena hadn’t known Ally was allergic to peanuts.)

“How’re you holding up?” It was Kara, Lena could tell by the sensible shoes that were suddenly in her line of sight, and judging from the smell of coffee that wafted towards her, Kara had been successful in her quest for what she called a ‘pick me up.’ After several seconds of silence, Kara let out a soft sigh and knelt down, placing the coffee cup on the ground and then using the tips of her fingers to gently coax Lena to look at her. “Lena, it’s okay.”

“Is it?” she snapped, regret flooding through her immediately when Kara’s eyes flashed with hurt for an instant before she managed to mask it. “Do you know what could have—” Lena began, tone considerably softer, “—she could’ve…Kara, she could’ve—”

“—she’s fine,” Kara said gently, taking Lena’s hands into her own, squeezing a little, as if to ground Lena to the moment. “She’s been laughing at Maggie’s faces.”

It was Kara’s soft voice, the sturdiness of her presence, the fact that she could still somewhat hear Ally’s giggles as Maggie continued to make faces, Alex watching the whole thing clearly torn between amusement and fondness, that Lena found herself confessing everything to Kara.

“She deserves better than me,” Lena said, voice cracking, the truth of her words sending a stab of pain through her chest. Because it was true but oh she didn’t want it to be. “She deserves a family like yours. Something normal Maggie or Alex could give her. With me—with me she’ll always be a Luthor.” Lena thought about nights waiting up for her father to return home, of falling asleep in her father’s study, tucked in his leather chair and breathing in the smell of tobacco. She thought about afternoons meant to be spent with Lillian that she just spent alone, the days she waited for Lex to call when he went off to college and left her behind. She thought about how she’d learned—barely even a teenager—that the best way to gain her father’s attention was to drag herself to LuthorCorp every afternoon after school and watch him work, eventually wandering off to R&D when Lionel barely acknowledged her presence. “She’ll end up like me, Kara. How could I do that to her? How could I let her become like me?”

Kara leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss to Lena’s forehead.

“Ally could do a lot worse than become like you,” Kara whispered against her skin, not moving away, the heat of her hands finally—finally—beginning to warm Lena’s.

“Kara,” Lena chastised, not really in the mood for false platitudes, but she came off sounding less peeved and more amused, because Kara chuckled and pressed another kiss to Lena’s forehead.

“Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re right,” Kara began slowly. “We don’t want her like you. We don’t want her to grow up kind or generous, funny or intelligent. I especially don’t want her to be health conscious like you, for her to care about others, for her to be so willing to love—to be so good, in spite of everything terrible that’s happened.” Kara pulled back a little, just enough that Lena could meet her blue, blue eyes, a smile on her lips.

“She would be better off with a real family,” Lena argued.

“I will always be grateful for the Danvers, Lena,” Kara said, releasing Lena’s hands and cupping her cheeks instead. “I love them for taking me in, for giving me so much love, for being my family—for accepting me despite everything I put them through. But,” Kara’s smile turned sad, her thumbs wiping gently under Lena’s eyes, erasing the evidence of Lena’s tears, “I will always be heartbroken and will never understand why my own family—all I had left—sent me away.” The comment was loaded, heavy with untold truths, and though Lena burned to ask—knew that Kara would tell her anything in that moment—she just swallowed, attempting and failing to shake her head. “Don’t give up on her, Lena,” Kara whispered, sounding a little faraway, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, “she needs you, and she’s too young to know it yet, but she’ll want you, too.”

“And you?”

(Two words, that was all Lena was capable of saying. Two words, and yet Kara understood anyway.)

“She’ll always have me. And so will you.” She wiped at Lena’s cheeks once more with the pads of her thumbs then smoothly stood up, smiling down at Lena with her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. “Your coffee got cold,” she informed Lena simply, gesturing to the cup that was left forgotten on the ground. “It’s probably a good thing, Alex said it was really bad.” She held out a hand. “Come on, I know a great café not even five minutes away from here. We can even get Maggie a bagel.”

“But—”

“Alex and Maggie are hovering, Ally’s perfectly safe. Come on,” she repeated. “let’s go for a walk.”

And to Lena’s ultimate surprise, she found herself taking Kara’s hand, accepting the tacit offer of help.    

x

“So, Luthor,” Alex said cheerfully, licking her fingers clean of chocolate icing, “when did you and my sister start dating?”

Lena very nearly dropped the eggs in her hand, resulting in a moment of stupid juggling that had Ally pausing her search for grapes in her fruit salad long enough to giggle.

“I’m—what—we’re not dating,” Lena said, putting the eggs aside and helping Ally out by swapping her fruit salad with a small bowl of grapes. She seemed terribly pleased by the turn of events, clapping her hands together and shouting wape—what Lena assumed was Ally’s attempt at saying grape.

“Yeah, that’s what Kara said too. But with more stuttering. And blushing.” Alex grinned widely. “And head ducking, which means she’s hiding something.” She pulled the chocolate icing towards herself, clearly intending to get another taste, but Lena’s face must’ve showed her disgust more clearly than she thought, because Alex sighed and wiped her hands on a towel in defeat, abandoning the icing entirely. “Fine,” she said, choosing embarrassing Lena over sampling everything in sight. “So you’re not dating. Do you want to be?”

“Why are you here, Alex?”

“Seriously? I offer to help bake Ally’s birthday cake and that’s how you treat me? I’m hurt,” she said, going as far as to place her hand over her heart in mock-distress.

Before Lena could bother to point out that Alex hadn’t helped at all, Ally threw her now empty bowl of grapes towards Lena.

“More wapes!” she demanded, making Alex laugh.

“No more grapes for you,” Lena said, knowing her stern voice was off because Alex just laughed again. She turned around to check the oven—still rather unfamiliar with baking despite practicing as much as she could over the last few months—unsurprised to see Ally snacking on more fruit the second she turned back. “Seriously?” she asked Alex, raising an eyebrow.

“In her defense, she said wapes, which could mean anything, really.”

“You’re spoiling her,” Lena said flatly, though she couldn’t help her smile as Ally happily searched through her grapes, picking out the biggest ones and popping them into her mouth. “I’ll blame you if she becomes an intolerable teenager.”

“Brr,” Alex said, mimicking Maggie’s teasing—something that had, unfortunately for Lena, caught on in the past several months—and grinning. “Isn’t that right, Ally?” Alex said cheerfully, stealing one of Ally’s grapes, something that had Ally’s mouth dropping open in shock.  

“No!” Ally said, eyebrows rising and hands flying, reminding Lena so much of Lex in that moment that she thought her heart would stop. For a moment—a brief second—Lena was almost sure her older brother would pop his head out of the guest room, gesticulating wildly as he excitedly told Lena about his latest experiments, begging her to shut off her music for just a moment so that he could concentrate. She was so busy feeling overwhelmed by Lex’s sudden non-physical presence that she nearly missed Ally turning to her, looking a little bit betrayed. “Mommy, say no!”

“Did she—?” Alex started.

“No, no she can’t have,” Lena finished, eyes wide. She was barely aware of Alex calling Kara—telling her to put out the fire as quickly as she could—and only blinked blankly when Ally repeated the word that put Lena in this state in the first place.

“Mommy!” Ally said, trying to get Lena’s attention. “Mommy!”

x

Ally’s birthday party—something Maggie had rolled her eyes at, wondering what the point of throwing a two year old a party even was—had devolved into an impromptu comfort session, James putting his ability to soothe any child to good use while Lena sat on the ground, back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of her. Someone, likely Winn, had brought her cake earlier, but it sat forgotten as the minutes turned into hours of silence.

“You want to talk about it?” Kara asked, speaking for the first time since she arrived—still covered in soot from her fire rescue—and slid down the wall to sit next to Lena, cape and boots looking rather out of place in Lena’s apartment. She was being so patient, so good, and to be perfectly frank, Lena couldn’t deal with it.

“No,” she snapped. “I’m not her mother,” she immediately added.

“I know that.”

“Why would—why are—how are you so calm?” Lena suddenly felt the inexplicable need to cry. And Luthors…Luthors did not cry.

“She didn’t call me her mom,” Kara pointed out unhelpfully, chuckling when Lena could do nothing but groan.

“This is serious, Kara. Why would she think I’m her mother?”

As one, their eyes shifted towards the living room, where James was sitting with Ally in his lap, the two of them seemingly completely entranced with whatever was playing on the television. Winn was on his phone, sneaking not-so-subtle glances at James and Ally every few seconds, not-so-subtly taking photos. Not for the first time, Lena marveled at how normal it all felt, having friends at her apartment—having her niece giggle and play with James Olsen’s camera, James bravely hiding his anxiety as a two year old manhandled expensive equipment—talking, laughing, eating, generally enjoying each other’s company.

Six months she had this, the support, the friendship, the knowledge that she had people she could count on—that Ally could count on, years down the line—and it was only now, with Kara’s shoulder brushing her own and Alex and Maggie arguing over proper tackling procedures (which Lena hadn’t been aware existed), that she finally, finally, believed she wasn’t in this alone.

As soon as that thought registered, she felt calmer.

This would be okay. She’d get through this—with everyone at her side.

“For the last six months,” Kara began slowly, making Lena turn to her in surprise, unsure how to feel about the careful way she was measuring her words as she spoke, “you’ve been everything to Ally. It’s natural that she’d become attached to you. I became attached to Eliza.”

“Did you ever call her mom?”

“Well, no. But I was also much older.” She bit her lip, dragging her gaze away from James and Ally and looking and Lena instead, eyes full of a sadness that had only ever been hinted at before. She smiled, but it only served to make her seem more broken. “I was…I was really hard on Eliza and Jeremiah,” she explained softly. “I felt guilty that I was able to be happy with them. That they could make me smile and feel as if I was home. I worried—I still worry, sometimes,” she amended, laughing mirthlessly. “I worry that if I’m not careful I’ll forget about Krypton, that the love I feel for Eliza will replace what I feel for my own mother.” She knocked her shoulder gently against Lena’s, ducking her head as if she was trying to hide the extent of what she was feeling. “I lashed out at Eliza. Especially in high school, when she had to give me those talks usually reserved for your own mother. But even though I’ve never called her my mother, she’s been my mom in more ways than one.”

“But letting Ally think I’m her mother—she’ll find out the truth eventually. Should I lie until then? Should I try to tell her the truth?”

Kara laughed in response, taking Lena’s hand in her own.

“She’s too young to worry about all that anyway. That’s a problem for future us,” she said with a grin. “Right now we just need to worry about potty training. I called Eliza about it, she mostly just laughed, so I assume it’s not fun.”

Lena stared at Kara fondly for a moment, thinking of her use of the words us and we, the fact that she reached out to her adoptive mother for help, and she thought her heart might stutter right out of her chest.

“I think, when she’s old enough, I’ll ask her if she wants to be a Luthor. Alexandra Peters Luthor, it’s a good name.”

“The best,” Kara agreed immediately, smiling when Lena dropped her head onto her shoulder, leaning heavily against Kara’s soot covered suit. “I think I smell like smoke,” she added when Lena breathed her in, took in her warmth.

Lena closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of Kara’s neck.  

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, voice slightly muffled. “I think you’re perfect.”

It wasn’t much of a surprise that Kara just laughed, hearing Lena’s tacit confession. And it wasn’t much of a surprise when she squeezed Lena’s hand reassuringly in response, wordlessly letting her know she felt the same way.

[thecockerelinn]

Well, even though quarantine and lockdown may slowly open up for many of us, it’s not over yet, and besides one can never have enough means to escape reality, so here are a few book reccomendations.

All books on this list are LGBTQ or at least have (important) characters who are.

The “Classics”:

Wraeththu  - Storm Constantine (how is it no-one’s talking about this anymore? Please do take into account that those books were written in the early 1990s, they were way ahead of their times, and yet there may be some offensive things - it’s been a while that I’ve read them so I can’t come up with any example, but should you find them somewhat un-feminist, wait until the end xD)

The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin (a true classic)

The Last Herald Mage series - Mercedes Lackey (gee yes Vanyel can be a real brat - not quite without reason though, but you’ll come to love him xD And yes we all just pretend that scene in book 3 never happened -_-) (also: influenced the Nightrunner series)

The World of Riverside series - Ellen Kushner (another influence on the Nightrunner series)

The Doctrine of Labyrinths quartet - Sarah Monette (beware, those books are not for everyone, trigger warnings are in order: rape, violence, mental issues, abuse / none of this is ever glorified or belittled, but it’s there, and it is so much a part of the characters’ lifes that it might occasionally seem like it’s not appropriately treated. Speaking of characters: very complex, intriguing characters with very dark sides, but you gotta love ‘em; intricate, complex world building / Nowadays Sarah Monette writes under the pseudonym Katherine Addison) (as far as I know they are unfortunately out of print so you’d have to check second hand book stores)

Historical fiction (with or without the paranormal)

Whyborne and Griffin series - Jordan L. Hawk (lots of paranormal stuff, magic, Lovecraftian creatures, awesome ladies, and so much more - and you will love those boys so much xD)

Magic in Manhattan - Allie Therin (the Roaring 20s, magic, prohibition)

The Collin Pendragon Mysteries - Gregory Harris (imagine Sherlock Holmes and Watson were canon; whodunnit, Victorian England)

Restless Spirits - Jordan L. Hawk  (let’s go ghost hunting: science vs. medium)

A Charm of Magpies - K.J. Charles (magpies - lots of them xP, magic, curses, intrigue, late Victorian England)

At Swim, Two Boys - Jamie O’Neill (set in Dublin around the Easter Uprising 1916; coming-of-age, tragic love story - don’t forget the tissues)

Cambridge Fellows Mysteries - Charlie Cochrane (Edwardian England, mystery, romance; amateur sleuths, found family)

SFF

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (epic fantasy, intricate world building, clash of religions, dragons, strong female leads)

The Affair of the Mysterious Letter -  Alexis Hall (fantasy / mystery; Lovecraftian vibes, bizarre and witty retelling of Sherlock Holmes)

The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards (alternative world, Atlantis, magic, god-like beings, found family; trigger warnings: mentions of rape, violence)

The Rifter series - Ginn Hale (fantasy, parallel world; god-like being, magic, religious strife, necromancy (in a way))

Iron Breakers trilogy - Zaya Feli (fantasy; intrigue, cultural differences, battles, fight for a kingdom, romance)

The Icefjord Saga - Zaya Feli (fantasy, Norse inspired world, magic, mythological creatures, battles, curses)

Tales from Verania - TJ Klune (fantasy, comedy, romance; hilariousness galore! - okay sometimes it’s a bit too much, but between all the jokes and sexual innuendoes, the story doesn’t suffer; basically everyone is gay, everyone tries to get into Sam’s trousers ^^;, did I mention the hornless gay unicorn that sweats glitter, and the sexually deviant dragon? xD)

Peter Darling - Austin Chant (fantasy, retelling; very interesting take on Peter Pan, takes place many years after the events in Peter Pan, focused on the relationship between Peter and Hook; the search for a place, for someone to accept you for who you really are)

YA and New Adult

Nevernight Chronicles - Jay Christoff  (sometimes I’m amazed what’s YA nowadays; fantasy; anyway beware of all the blood)

Feverwake duology - Victoria Lee (see above; dystopia; Holy Baby Yoda but these two books are intense! triger warnings: abuse, drug use, violence, mentions of rape, deadly virus outbreak)

Only Mostly Devastated - Sophie Gonzales (contemporary; all the feels: it makes you laugh out loud, it makes you cry; Grease says hello, super sweet quick read)

Timekeeper trilogy - Tara Sim (steampunk - or should it be clockwork punk?; mythology, gods, concept of time, ghosts, cute boys, discourse on colonialism)

The Torch Keeper trilogy - Steven dos Santos (dystopia; betrayal, love between brothers, biological modifications, deadly deadly trials)

Proxy duology - Alex London (dystopia; the rift between rich and poor, unjust society, technology)

The Disasters - M.K. England (sci-fi; band of misfits to the rescue!; Breakfast Club in space - kind of xD)

Magnus Chase & the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan (fantasy, mythology; ahhh Uncle Rick - just got to love the man, seriously; Norse mythology, diverse cast, homelesness, found family, disablitiy) (I’m aware it’s officially labelled Middle Grade, but who cares. It is linked to the Percy Jackson series, but you don’t need to know it to read these books)

The TBR pile (meaning books I haven’t read myself yet, but they certainly are on my tbr list, so perhaps they will be on yours now, too):

The Locked Tomb series - Tamsyn Muir  (fantasy)

The Bloodright trilogy - Emily Skrutskie  (sci-fi, YA)

Wild Sky - Zaya Feli (fantasy)

The Extraordinaries - TJ Klune (romance, superpowers - or not..., YA)

Reverie - Ryan La Sala (fantasy)

Soulbound series - Hailey Turner (urban fantasy, romance)

Cemetery Boys - Aiden Thomas (fantasy, paranormal, romance, YA)

Micah Grey series - Laura Lam (fantasy)

Specials:

A Song for Ghosts - Manja Siber (historical, mid 19th century Dresden) - Don your fanciest dress and fetch the binocular, it’s opera time! Originally inspired by The Phantom of the Opera and Yuri on Ice - see if you can spot the hints xD (as a fellow Watcher, Manja kind of makes the list by default* xP Give it a try, you can find it via epubli or on amazon.de)

*No, this isn’t nepotism, I’m just trying to give the support I wish I had. So if you’re an author and a Watcher and you’re not on this list, it’s because I don’t know about it. Tell me, and I gladly put your book on this or any next rec list.

[i-jus-wanna-writehappy]

Kissing Powers

Pairing: Scott Summers x fem!mutant!Reader

Warnings: none, I believe, question mark??

Author’s Note: Yo, this is the oldest piece in my drafts you guys. Hopefully it is enjoyable :)

Tags: @thotyana-in-this-hoe @neeadinghugs 

Masterlist

*          *          *          *          *

"Really? You've never heard of her?" Scott questions Kurt and Peter. The two boys shake their heads, making Scott sigh in frustration before walking away. After a second lap around the mansion, Scott settles for grumbling his way to the library, peeved that not a single one of his peers could or were willing to tell him about you.

Just as Scott goes to sit down, Hank calls out to him, “Hey, Scott, the professor wants you in his office.” Scott groans as he places his hands against the armrest of his chair and drags himself up. The last thing he needs right now is to be in trouble with the professor. Is he in trouble because he glued Peter’s shoes to the ground last week? Is it because he ate the last of the Lucky Charms and convinced Jubilee that she had the last bowl?

All the way to the office, Scott thinks of what Charles could want him for, and all of the options help to sour his mood more. The door to the office is open, and the first thing Scott notices is you, sitting in the chair in front of Charles’s desk. “Ah, here he is, Scott, I’d like to introduce you to Y/N. She is our newest addition and I was hoping you could show her around as I have an important meeting to attend to.”

Scott smiles softly, knowing what Charles is doing - he’s been asking around about the kissing mutant arriving all day - but still can’t stop his mouth from being skeptical, “I thought you held your meetings after dinner?” Lifting his eyebrows, Charles gestures to you, “You’re right. Would you prefer I held off my meeting and show Y/N around myself?” Now, Scott’s brain is all on the same page. He actually almost rolls his eyes at his foolish comment, but instead, he waves a dismissive hand at Charles, “No, no, you’re right. I’m happy to show you around, Y/N.”

Spinning in your seat, you give a short nod to Scott before turning to Charles, “Thank you for everything, Professor. I’m excited to work with you.” Your demeanor changes completely as you join Scott. Truthfully, he’s a bit offended. Yeah, sure, maybe the Professor was impressive in his heyday, but he can’t be so great now that even looking at Scott nearly disgusts you.

“So, is there anything you wanna see first? Rooms, the land?” Scott asks after ten steps of agonizing silence. Your answer surprises him more than anything he’s ever encountered, he believes. With a completely straight face and not a chuckle in sight, you rest your hand on Scott’s arm, “Yeah, hey, do you mind if I kiss you?”

For a moment, Scott just opens and closes his mouth, trying to make sure he heard you correctly, but then, just as he’s sure his mind - or Jean’s - is playing tricks on him, you ask again, “Scott. Can I kiss you?” Yep, definitely real. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, if you want to you can, you can kiss me. If you want.” Scoffing, you shake your head, “I have to more than want to. Do you care if I kiss you on the mouth, or do you prefer somewhere else? Each kiss is different and will have different effects on our relationship and what I see, so you can choose whatever you think will be the most comfortable.”

It is absolutely blowing Scott’s mind how nonchalant you are about kissing an absolute stranger on the mouth, an act so intimate and emotional - “Oh! That’s what you do right? Kissing people, you get emotions and stuff.” Scott doesn’t let you answer before he’s nodding, “Okay. You can kiss me on the mouth.” At the thought, Scott’s heart starts accelerating it’s pumping speed.

You, on the other hand just give an anemic smile and cup your hand around the back of his neck. The approach is much more tender than he thought it’d be. Scott was expecting a quick, hands-free peck or a tug of his shirt, but pulling him closer the way you are - he may be reading into it - definitely seems like a romantic move more than one born of necessity. Your lips press together slowly, and Scott thanks everyone above him that he has been remembering to regularly moisturize his lips because he will make it his mission for you to be thinking about kissing him again once you’re through here.

Cradling your face gingerly like he’s seen guys do in the movies his mom loves to watch, Scott inhales a large breath through his nose before taking control of the kiss. He doesn’t speed up or try to shove his tongue down your throat, but instead, meshes your lips in long, soft sessions of sparks before slightly readjusting for the next installment. He isn’t a kissing expert, but Alex always said that kissing was as natural as walking once you got your feet on the ground or your lips together.

Scott doesn’t pull away until he runs out of breath - this takes a while as he spent lots of time swimming and hoping to develop gills and the ability to live underwater as a child - and when he does, he does it slowly, first separating your lips while still keeping his nose and forehead pressed to yours. Dropping his hands, Scott breaks all contact and gauges your expression. Your eyes are shining and a smile is tugging at the corner of your lips. Scott, of course, doesn’t want to toot his own horn but root-a-toot-toot.

“That was different than any other first kisses I’ve had.” You say to Scott as you resume your walking. He’s a bit upset that you’ve caught your breath so easily, as he still feels like he’s run a marathon, but Scott just lets those thoughts roll off of his shoulders and he catches up to you, “Because it was so good?” Scott asks. You see his eyebrows lift behind his clunky glasses and can’t help but laugh a bit, “Mostly because I pull things from whoever I’m kissing. I got what I needed to develop a relationship for us in my mind, a lot of how you feel about me, if the kiss wasn’t telling enough, your thoughts did it all.”

At your confession, Scott groans, “I didn’t know you could do all of that... But it was still good, right?” Before you can answer, Ororo steps out of the door on your right and leans against the doorway, “Was what still good, Scott?” Knowing she was eavesdropping since you rounded into the long hallway, Scott groans again, but you have absolutely no qualms about what you do or have done, so you happily speak up, “I had to kiss Scott and he was asking how it was after I commented on how different it was from the other times I’ve kissed people. Do you mind if I kiss you?”

Scott just barely holds in a gasp at your question. Sure, he knows you have to do it, but he was hoping you’d need some time to recover from your kiss, or at least savor the taste a bit, but here you were, merely seconds later requesting to kiss Ororo. Part of Scott, that slightly selfish part, is hoping she’ll say no, ask you to wait, but instead, Ororo shrugs, “Sure.” And just like that, with no more questions or nerves to shake out, you step towards Ororo and kiss her mouth chastely. There is no touching or holding, which is a relief for Scott, and when you step back, there is an emotion in your eyes for her rather than the level-eyed boredness you addressed her with before. Ororo knew well who you were, Scott had spent all day talking about you, so sending him a sly smile, Ororo clears her throat, “That was good, right?”

You can’t help but to chuckle, but Scott just takes your arm and continues pulling you down the hall, “Very funny, Ororo, you should take your jokes on the road, away from here." Straight ahead, Scott sees two people who heard him rambling on about you this morning and he knows that if they see you, they’ll stop you and if they stop you, you’ll ask to kiss them, and honestly, he doesn’t really feel like watching you kiss anyone else just yet, so he does what makes the most sense. Scott takes a sharp left and pulls you into his room.

"So that, you, you have... Are you gonna kiss everybody?" He asks, releasing you and doing a quick pace of his room. You give him the most apologetic smile you can muster, "Pretty much. It's like an itch, you know? It almost burns to meet someone new and not at least ask them if I can kiss them. It's how I open up, Scott. I have no emotion towards people I haven't kissed before, and a genuine lack of any emotion is difficult. If this is about our kiss, I did really like it, and I would like to do it again -" Scott perks up at this, smiling proudly, "You would? You did?" His enthusiasm is adorable and you can't help but laugh a little as you answer, "Yeah, but that won't nor can it diminish my need to kiss other people, especially ones I interact with on a regular basis. I only have to do it once, but it still has to happen.”

Scott nods his head sheepishly, feeling himself being called out in the explanation. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense, sorry.” Giving him a pointed look, you show your acceptance with a small smile and a twitch of your eyebrows before heading towards the door. Making a quick, and probably dumb, decision, Scott rushes in front of you and presses his back to the door, “You said you only have to kiss someone once, but are you allowed to kiss someone more than once? Is that okay?” You know where he’s going, but you level your face and play ignorant. If he’s going to do this, you’re going to make him work for it. “I suppose, I wouldn’t really gain much. Unless of course, the person in question is very good at hiding their emotions or motive, then it may be revealed in the second kiss, but ultimately, yes, it’s alright. Did that answer your question?”

Scott sputters for a moment, because technically, you did answer the question. “Well, yeah, but I was - can I? Do you mind if I kiss you? Again, I mean.” You roll your eyes fondly and connect your mouth to his. This kiss doesn’t last anywhere near as long as the first one when you hear a popping noise and look behind you to see a blue mutant standing there. He begins to apologize immediately, and Scott tries to open the door and pull you out of the room before it’s too late, but before he can grab hold of you, you step away from him and towards Kurt, as Scott called him. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

[sareyen]

A Machine Without Feelings: A Jane Eyre AU (Part 9/11)

Read on ao3

Chapter 9

Charles, Jean and Ororo giddily chatted to each other as they walked the short path to the new school grounds, a modest building that had once been a barn, but had been extended by a few single-storey stone rooms. Since it was such a small parish school, it was not practical to segregate the boys from the girls, so Charles, Jean and Ororo worked closely together.

The three teachers would swap in and out for different classes depending on which subjects they preferred. Jean enjoyed teaching English and history, while Ororo was in charge of the French and geography lessons. Charles, of course, taught science and mathematics.

Charles loved teaching at the school – though the children were farmer’s sons and daughters and by no means avid scholars, they were curious enough about the ways of the world and listened attentively. It was vastly different from teaching at Graymalkin, and definitely a whole different experience compared to teaching Peter, but still fulfilling.

Charles also loved teaching since it took his mind off other things, namely thoughts about Erik. When he was teaching, he focused solely on the children. When either Jean or Ororo had taken over the class, he would focus on organising the content for his next lesson, or mark work sheets under a single candlelight. When he returned home, he would try to absorb himself into Jean’s poetry readings, or get Ororo to teach him more Spanish.

A season and change passed by just like that, Charles becoming absorbed in his work and not much else. He had recovered from his weakness after being exposed to the elements on the Moors five months prior, and though his foot was still maimed, it did not bother him much at all now. He still used the chair, but found that he could at least walk a lap around the small garden at the back of Eden House with relative ease.

Still, Charles overworked himself, especially once Stryker had seemed satisfied with his competency after the first two months on the job, offering him a permanent position. But  Charles had not missed the man’s subtle attempts to find out about Charles’s past. He asked Charles if he remember his education (he said he did not, but that he thought he maybe had a tutor, which he also did not), if Charles worked at another school prior (he said that he did not know), or if he remembered where the Xander family hailed from (he also said that he had no clue, much to Stryker’s frustration).

Charles still remained a bit of an enigma, and Stryker felt, in his robust gut, that the man knew more than he was revealing. He could not attack the man, though, since Charles had become rather popular in the rural parish. He was charming, young and sociable, and despite being a cripple, he managed to curry favour with his students, and more importantly, their parents. Stryker had received many letters stating that they people were immensely happy with the quality of teaching the children have been receiving at the school, particularly mentioning Mr Charles Xander. Stryker crumpled up all the letters and threw them into the fire.

Charles Xander was becoming far too popular, and far too powerful for Stryker’s liking. The only power Stryker had over the man was his wealth, so Stryker was glad that the man was at least poor. It appeased him slightly to know that he still controlled the teacher’s salary.

It was one evening in the blistering winter that Charles’s body grew weak. He had always been sensitive to the cold, and now crippled and overworked, he could not stave off the slight sickness that gripped him. He soldiered on, though, and now sat at the desk Logan had made for him, coughing a little as he scribbled down some notes in his book.

Charles now shared Logan’s bedchambers with him. Not in the same manner that he and Erik shared a room in, but more out of necessity. Sleeping on the chaise in the sitting room was alright during the warmer months, but in winter the room was freezing, and sleeping there was asking for frostbite to nip off his fingers and toes.

Logan’s bed was not large and could not fit another bed in it. It was a good thing that Charles was small, because it meant that the two men could just fit on the pre-existing bed when they lay side by side on their backs, though their arms pressed together tightly. That was not all bad, not when Logan was like a furnace and Charles’s maimed foot did not circulate blood as well as it used to.

Logan was already lying on the bed, only wearing a set of flimsy linen trousers. Charles, on the other hand, was wrapped up in his trousers, shirt, coat, two pairs of socks and was weighed down by two blankets over his shoulders. It did not help that there was a frosty draft drifting in through the gaps in the window, cold even with the warmth radiating from the fireplace on the other side of the room.

Charles coughed again, causing Logan to curse, the bed creaking as the large man sat up.

“Chuck, stop overworking yourself and rest. You’re going to waste away again,” Logan grumbled, Charles just humming as he covered his mouth to cough again, flicking to the next page in his book. Charles heard Logan click his tongue in annoyance, and let out a startled yelp when his wheelchair was suddenly jerked back, his pencil dropping onto his now abandoned book.

“Logan!” Charles began to whine, frowning when the man pressed a warm hand to his forehead, checking for a fever. Luckily, Charles was not feverish, only run down with a little niggle in his throat.

“If you don’t want that cough to get worse, go to bed now, Chuck,” Logan said, ignoring Charles’s protests as he took it upon himself to pick the younger man up, throwing him without a hint of delicacy onto their shared bed.

“You are a brute,” Charles huffed, but shivered with the loss of the two blankets he had been wearing earlier, burrowing into the one on the bed instead. The sheets had already been warmed by Logan���s body, and Charles couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, making Logan chuckle.

Logan lowered himself besides Charles, and couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face when Charles subconsciously snuggled closer to him, chasing his body heat. Logan hesitated for a moment, looking down at the smaller man beside him, blue-eyed and red-lipped, and a surge of desire pulsed through him, unfamiliar and consuming.

Slowly, Logan shifted his arm so it wrapped around Charles, tugging him in closer. Charles’s breath hitched, and the boy immediately froze, ocean eyes wide. Charles’s hand was pressed against Logan’s chest now, pushing a little. Logan’s heart stuttered.

“Sorry,” Logan mumbled, retracting his arm, frowning. “Did I read you wrong, Chuck? I thought, I had the feeling that, even though we’re both men…”

“No,” Charles started, before grimacing. “Yes. And no. I- I’m sorry, my friend. It is not you. You are perfect, and you are right about that. It’s not normal, or proper, I know, but… that’s how I am. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can return to the chaise. You only need to tell me.”

“I just held you, and you’re asking if I am uncomfortable with the fact that you like men?” Logan scoffed, Charles’s cheeks flushing at the bluntness of his statement. “Chuck, you know me. I don’t care about what’s proper.”

Charles laughed, a little weakly, looking up at Logan then. He did find the man attractive, and he did like him. He maybe even loved him, but not in the way he loved Erik. He loved Logan the same way he loved Jean and Ororo, Moira and Alex. Logan was a close friend, as close as a brother.

“Like I said, my friend. You are perfect,” Charles said, holding his hands to his own chest now. Logan cracked a smile, turning to face Charles a little better.

“You said something about it not being me. I’m a simple man, Chuck, but even I can read that you have some sort of past… with someone.” Charles winced at Logan’s words, mouth about to open with an excuse, or quip about having no memories, which Logan knew was utter shite. “Chuck, I know that you remember things. I think you remember everything. You’ve been living with us for half a year, I think we can read you better than most people now.”

“I can’t hide it from you, can I?” Charles sighed, Logan exhaling sharply.

“You don’t have to. You can tell me, and Jean and Ororo. You know that we would never talk. I hardly talk to anyone outside of this household, anyway,” Logan said, smiling wryly. Charles laughed again, before nursing his lower lip. Charles hadn’t told anyone about his past, but he believed that, if he would tell anyone, it would be the three people in this house, Logan most of all.

“It is a long story, my friend,” Charles said, Logan shuffling in the bed to get more comfortable, giving Charles a raised eyebrow to continue. Charles started to talk, his words stunted at first, unsure. But as he continued, the words began to flow more freely, until the flood gates opened completely. It was easy talking to Logan; the man’s face barely changed from its usual gruff indifference, though Charles knew he was listening attentively when the man would grunt every now and then, eyes never leaving Charles’s face.

Charles started from the beginning, about Westchester and Graymalkin, and then about Ironfield. Charles told Logan everything, about how he adored teaching little Peter, about his friendship with Moira and the other staff. He told the man in his bed about the master of Ironfield, the man that had loved him and broken him. He told him about how Erik had made his newborn heart jealous with Emma, and how they had loved each other desperately. How he still loved Erik desperately.

Then Charles told him about the Creeds and the marriage, about the ghost who still haunts Charles now, miles and miles away. Charles ended the story with tears in his eyes, wiping them away as he gave Logan a final, shaky smile.

“And then you found me wandering the Moors. Erik once asked me if I had a tale of woe. I believe I just told it to you,” Charles murmured quietly, Logan silent, before speaking.

“You still love him,” Logan said slowly, Charles nodding. “Then why don’t you return to him?”

“You know why, Logan.”

“He loves you too, Chuck. It’s obvious, from what you told me. A man like that does not let go of someone like you, even if you go away,” Logan said, knowing full well how hard it would be to forget someone like Chuck.

Charles let out a choked noise, fresh tears sprouting from his eyes.

“I hear his voice sometimes, you know,” Charles whispered, pressing two fingers to his temple. “In here. I can hear him calling for me. I don’t know if I am mad, or if my dreams about him linger when I am awake. But I swear, I can hear him.”

“He’s calling you back, Chuck,” Logan said simply, Charles squeezing his eyes closed.

“Is it not too late for me to go back, though? I… have a life here, now. With you, and Jean and Ororo. With the children at the school. I have a life here. Would it not be selfish for me to abandon it, just because I long for one man?”

“You are a strange and selfless fool, Chuck,” Logan said, nudging at Charles’s chin with a rough finger. “And you are tired. So go to sleep, now, and think about things properly in the morning.”

Charles let out a throaty noise, something like an ‘okay’ and a ‘thank you’, before slipping into a deep sleep wrapped up in Logan’s warmth. Logan watched him sleep, for a moment. And he thought, ‘that man, Erik. For him, I doubt that it would ever be too late, not as long as you came back to him. I’d be the same way.’

The morning after, Charles and Logan gathered Jean and Ororo, and Charles told them the story he had told Logan. He did not cry this time, even if his heart ached. Jean and Ororo had tears in their eyes instead, and both got up from their seats to hug Charles, whom they thought of as their second brother. They understood him, and promised that they would be there for him, because that was what family did.

***

Three more months passed, and winter turned into spring. Nothing much happened during that time, and life was simple yet tranquil. The school was operating well, and the occupants of Eden House could begin to afford a few more luxuries in their life with all four members having found employment. They no longer had to restrict fires to a single room, and Ororo finally got her new shoes. Meals were no longer watered-down stew, and they could afford bread and good meat, as well as wine for special occasions.

Charles’s birthday was one such occasion. The festivities weren’t grand – Jean and Ororo had taken it upon themselves to cook a hearty roast meal, and Logan had crafted Charles a new walking stick as a gift. Charles was taken aback by the detailed and intricate design, and had kept running his fingers over the smooth surface of the object.

“It never ceases to amaze me how rough hands like yours can create such delicate art like this,” Charles had said, Ororo cackling at Charles’s insult-compliment, Jean’s lips quirking as she poured everyone wine. The household sang and danced – well, Ororo sang and danced, and Charles just sang. Charles attempted to dance, Ororo spinning him around in his chair, making him laugh wildly, immensely happy.

Charles had never thought too much about birthdays. He had rarely celebrated them in his childhood, only getting a cake from Kitty and an impersonal card and toy from his mother. At Graymalkin, birthdays did not exist, though the one birthday that he shared with Raven was a cherished memory, the girl making him a crown of daisies as a gift.

Nineteen was no major milestone, but it was now his most favourite birthday, and an important memory. Charles was not aware that it was important in a different way, one that would rock the newly built boat he had built after his last one had been overturned in a storm.

It was another month after Charles’s birthday that Jean came running in to the school building, cheeks flushed as red as her hair, the hem of her dress caked with dust and mud.

“Professor,” Jean said, still using the affectionate nickname despite knowing that it was in no way true. “I have news. Startling news.”

“What is it, Jean?” Charles asked, putting aside the writing boards and chalk he was tidying up, wheeling over to his sister and grasping her slender arm.

“I think I should sit,” Jean said, wringing her hands together, taking a seat at the edge of a long bench besides Charles’s wheelchair. Charles’s brow was furrowed with nervousness and suspense, Jean rarely getting so agitated about anything.

“I had just talked to Stryker about ordering more benches for the students, since our numbers have grown since winter. When I left, there was an unfamiliar man that went into his office; he was wearing a fine suit, and was definitely from the city. I had a feeling, you see, so I stayed around to try and listen. We have never trusted Stryker, and the whole thing smelled off,” Jean said, glancing around, checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Neither Charles nor Jean sensed any other presence in the room, Jean continuing in a hushed voice.

“That man, I could not catch his name, said that he was a lawyer from -shire. You said that was where your old residence, Ironfield Hall, was, so I knew it had something to do with you.”

“Has Stryker’s inquiries into my identity yielded fruit, then? Jean, this is terrible news,” Charles said, heart seizing. Jean quickly shook her head, though her tensed figure did not ease.

“Stryker did not seem to know your real name, but he does now. The lawyer said that he was looking for a Mr Charles Xavier, formerly of Westchester, Graymalkin School and Ironfield Hall. The lawyer has been looking for you, and had heard rumours of someone matching your description – it was likely because Stryker was asking about you, and the lawyer put two-and-two together.”

“Oh, God,” Charles groaned, Jean grabbing his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Did the lawyer say what he was looking for me for? Was it about Ironfield? Did… Did something happen to Erik?”

Jean shook her head.

“No, Stryker asked about the reason too, but the lawyer said that he could not disclose private information to anyone other than Mr Charles Xavier. Stryker knew that the man would not budge, and I think he wanted to send the man away, but this was an opportunity for him to discover the truth about you. Charles, I ran here the moment I heard, but the man is coming here to the school, now. I wanted to warn you, first, so you are prepared.”

“Thank you, Jean,” Charles said, just as there was the sound of crunching gravel from the path leading to the school building. Jean and Charles looked at each other, the woman touching her palm to Charles’s cheek supportively, before she stood from the bench as the lawyer entered.

“Mr Charles Xavier?” the lawyer asked, looking directly at Charles. The teacher could see the man confirming the description he had been given; blue eyes, brown hair, short stature. The lawyer had not been told that he was a cripple, however – the account had been from someone who had only seen him a year or so prior, so it was not unlikely that the information was outdated.

“Yes, I am Charles Xavier,” Charles said, clearing his scratchy throat.

“Excellent, I have journeyed far to find you, Mr Xavier. I am Jean-Paul Beaubier, a lawyer employed by the late Mr Brian Xavier,” the man said, smiling at Charles, whose mouth dropped open at the mention of his father’s name.

“My… father?” Charles asked, the lawyer nodding. “You knew my father?”

“Yes, quite well, in fact. A man of your father’s standing, he required legal counsel often, and I’d like to think that he considered me a friend. I saw you once, when you were just an infant. Your mother had been holding you when I executed your father’s will. I have just been to visit your mother in my search for you, actually. She is faring well along the seaside. It seems that being freed from her second husband did her well.”

If Charles had not been sitting in his wheelchair, he was sure he would have collapsed on the spot at the news.

“So you’re calling upon me in relation to my father? He has been dead almost nineteen years,” Charles said, the lawyer nodding, a little sad at the memory of his friend’s passing.

“Yes. You are nineteen years old now, correct?” Charles nodded, the lawyer smiling as he pulled out a document from his case, passing it to Charles. “You may read it, but I will tell you the short of it. There was another part written in your father’s will that only he, I and your mother knew about. Even though your father was not able to spend as much time with you as he wanted, he loved you dearly. He was also a smart man, who knew that his wealth would attract unsavoury characters who may take advantage of his grieving widow and his infant son. So, he stipulated that, upon your nineteenth birthday, you should two receive an inheritance of 20,000 pounds.”

Jean gasped audibly, Charles startling in his chair.

“20,000 pounds?!” Charles exclaimed, looking at Jean, who was looking back at him with her mouth on the floor.

“Yes, Mr Xavier,” the lawyer said, laughing and pleased at Charles’s reaction, no doubt expecting something of the sort. “It is hard to believe, I know, but it is all written there. Your father knew that by this age, even if circumstances were poor, you would be independent. From the journey I have taken to find you, I think that your father predicted the future aptly.”

“My… My mother never told me. You said that she was aware of this?” Charles asked, eyes rapidly drinking in the printed letters spread across the pages in his hands. They said exactly the same words that Mr Beaubier had spoken, the signatures official, the seal ironclad.

“Yes, she became known to the fact right after his death, when his will was first executed. When I saw your mother most recently, she told me that… she had not been a good mother in many aspects. Maybe in all of them. But, the one thing that she said that she did right was protect this secret. She told me to tell you that she hopes with this, you can begin to forgive her for all that she did, and did not do.”

“I…” Charles started, mouth open in silence. “Jean.”

“Y-Yes?” the woman said, jumping at being addressed. Charles turned to her, a smile beginning to grow on his mouth, hands shaking with excitement.

“Jean, I think that we are set for life.”

***

“So now you’re a pompous and rich git, Chuck,” Logan said after being momentarily shocked into silence, something that did not happen often. Ororo just stared at Charles, slack jawed, looking down at the papers in his hand, back and Charles, and then back down again.

“Professor, this is written in English, yes? Because I can’t seem to make sense of it,” Ororo said, Charles laughing.

“I assure you, Ororo, everything you read is true. We no longer have to worry about putting food on the table. We can even renovate the entire house, or by a whole new one! Or ten!” Charles said, wheeling over to lay his hand over Ororo’s.  

“20,000 pounds,” Ororo mouthed. “10,000 multiplied by 2. 20,000. Professor, you are a true heir! By dickens, you’re leagues richer than even Stryker, and we thought he was overly stuffed!”

“Speaking of Stryker. He knows your real name now, Chuck. It won’t be long until he finds out about your past,” Logan said, voice dangerous. The mood in the house immediately dampened, Jean coming to sit beside Ororo, looking worried. Charles could feel Logan pacing the room behind him, heavy feet clunking on the wooden floor.

“Will he do anything about it, though? I know money is not infallible, but the reason he is so revered and feared is because of his money. I know I sound like a complete arse, but I can out-pay him more than twice-fold,” Charles said, Logan snorting.

“Yes, you sound like a bloody arse, but you also sound like an idiot. Stryker is not only powerful because of his money. He is a man that is able to use your weaknesses against you. He will incite fear amongst the people, and – you know these are not my thoughts – but when he finds out your…” Logan started, Jean clearing her throat and piping up.

“Your proclivities,” she supplied carefully, Logan rolling his eyes.

“I was going to say ‘when he finds out about your love for cock’, but that works too,” Logan said, the girls blushing while Charles spluttered. “Anyway, Stryker is not above using those despicable tactics. He will think that you are a threat because of your wealth. Chuck, this is my opinion, but you can’t stay here.”

Charles’s heart dropped in his chest, eyes wide as he twisted in his chair to look at Logan.

“Are you asking me to leave?” Charles whispered, his sisters also turning to their older brother with shocked faces, as pained as Charles.

“Logan, you must be speaking in jest,” Jean said, reaching to grab Charles’s hand, like her slender fingers could tether him to their side.

“Yes, brother! Charles is family, I can’t believe you’re talking about throwing him out! We know you love him, too!” Ororo said, Charles blushing, catching Logan’s eye. The older man just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You lot think so highly of me. I’m wounded,” Logan said sarcastically, leaning to against the back of the chaise. “I said that Chuck should leave, but I didn’t say that he would leave alone.”

 Charles’s heart warmed, Logan smiling a little as Jean and Ororo let out relieved sighs, the latter hitting Logan’s arm for making them think about something as horrible as parting from Charles.

“But if we all leave, we would be abandoning the children,” Charles said, frowning at the thought. “We are the only teachers here, they’d be left with no one to guide them.”

“Stryker would be able to find new teachers eventually,” Logan said, shrugging. “He’d probably just have to empty his bloated pockets some more. Just because you’re filthy rich, you can’t forget that Stryker does have a comfortable sum too, Chuck.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” Charles sighed, Logan whistling, shaking his head. “Very well. I don’t feel completely comfortable with leaving the children, but Stryker is a dangerous man and I don’t want to endanger you all. I’ll at least leave the school with a sum of money – the pastor is a good and honest man, he can at least use it to help sustain the children in our absence, until new teachers are found.”

“Selfless as always, Professor,” Jean said, shaking her head fondly. “Let us begin to pack, then. Stryker will get information soon, so it is best if we vanish long before then.”

***

After living a frugal life for years, Jean and Ororo found it hard to part with things, even after Charles assured them that they could buy everything anew. So, they just packed their clothes and toiletries, and things that were particularly sentimental, like family sketches, Logan and Jean’s mother’s keepsakes, some books. Their travel cases were packed full to bursting, Logan having to stomp on them so they latched closed.

They made plans to leave in two days’ time. It took couriers at least two days to get to their parish from any of the larger cities, including that of Ironfield. Charles had given the pastor a sum of 2000 pounds, telling him that it may be best to tell no other soul about it. The pastor had understood, the large amount of money likely to spark a frenzy in the small parish. The pastor had thanked Charles for the donation, telling him that they would use it wisely.

It was now the eve of their departure, and Jean and Ororo were in their room trying to sleep, but too excited to do so successfully. Charles could hear them whispering about going on their first long carriage journey, smiling at his sisters before wheeling himself to his and Logan’s room.

Logan was busy neatening up some of the things on Charles’s desk, and turned when he heard the teacher enter.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, but Chuck, do you even know where you’re going to go?” Logan asked, Charles tapping on the arm rest of his chair, biting his lower lip. Logan waited for Charles to answer, but when he didn’t, he stopped organising Charles’s books to turn to the man. “Chuck?”

“I… Logan. If I… If I said that I would go back there, would you oppose it? Would you still want to come with me?” Charles asked, Logan blinking.

“By there you mean… to Erik?” Logan’s voice was even, and Charles could not pick out his feelings on the matter based on his voice and expression.

“Yes. Apart from here, Ironfield is my only home. I know I could buy a whole house for the four of us. Gosh, I could buy us a house each, and still have plenty to spare. But…”

“You want to return to him,” Logan said simply, Charles nibbling on his lower lip again, nodding. Logan just shrugged, turning back to Charles’s desk. “I knew you would decide that. I was just asking to make sure that you knew what you wanted.”

“Logan?”

“Look, Chuck. I like you. A lot,” Logan said, Charles’s cheeks reddening. “But I know that you love that Lehnsherr man, and I know not to bet on a losing hand. You’re family, Chuck, even if I see you as more than a brother sometimes. You’re infuriating like that, you know.”

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Charles said, Logan smiling and shrugging again.

“It is what it is. Like Jean and Ororo, I just want to see you happy. God knows you deserve it, after all the shit he put you through.”

“You’re coming for my title as the most selfless git now, Logan,” Charles grinned, Logan throwing a wad of paper at the young man, who laughed.

“Sure, sure. You should go to bed, first. I’m sure that spending 2000 pounds without batting an eyelash earlier today was draining on your energy reserves,” Logan said, Charles throwing back the stack of paper at the man’s jibe, Logan letting out a husky laugh.

“Stop it, Logan. You know this money is as much yours as it is mine,” Charles huffed, Logan’s teasing smile turning gentle, the man regarding him carefully.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Chuck, but your father left that money for you. He’d want you to use it for yourself. If this is about you wanting to repay us for taking you in, you repaid that debt long ago. Not that there was a debt to begin with,” Logan said, Charles shaking his head.

“No, you don’t understand, Logan. I’m not doing this out of duty or debt. I… My father gave me this money because I am his son, his family. And like you said, you are my family. So I want to share this money with you, too. Please let me,” Charles said, looking at Logan with fierce eyes. Those eyes were ones that could make any one weak to do his bidding. Logan was no exception, and maybe even more susceptible than most.

“You’re still the most selfless fool, Charles,” Logan said, using the young man’s real name, just this once. “Now go to bed. You have a long journey tomorrow, and your foot might not fare too well in a bumpy carriage.”

Charles smiled at Logan, hoisting himself into bed with a practised hop and twist, having lived in his wheelchair for the better part of a year now.

Unlike his sisters, Charles fell asleep quickly. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, Charles felt fingers run through his hair, the touch gentle, but feeling more like a goodbye than a caress.

***

Charles found out that it had been a goodbye the next morning, when there were a series of frantic knocks on the front door. Charles had woken up to an empty bed in the morning, Logan’s side cold. Charles figured that he had gone out to make last minute departure preparations, and hadn’t thought too much of it. The man had always been an early riser, unlike Charles.

Charles was making sure that they had all of their luggage, Jean getting up from where she was retying her shoes to answer the door.

The moment she opened it, a group of policemen immediately stormed the house. The peelers were clad in long blue coats and stiff tall hats, imposing as they kept their hands on their batons. This parish was in one of the boroughs that had adopted a professional police force, and most of the parish’s families were wary of the blue coats. The parish constable walked in after the swarm of blue filled out the small foyer, Jean and Ororo standing stiff, alert.

“Gentleman? What seems to be the matter?” Charles asked, wheeling to move between the group of policemen and his sisters, looking at them with a frown.

“Where were you three last night, around the time between three and four,” the constable asked, tapping his finger on his baton, carefully evaluating the three of them. Jean and Ororo looked at each other, confused, while Charles’s heart thumped. Something in him knew that, in some capacity, Logan was involved. Logan, who wasn’t here right now, who, likely, had not gone to bed at all last night.  

Charles tried to keep calm as he spoke to the officers. They were still a new police force, and though their uniforms were crisp, they held a buzz of nervous and uncertainty. Whatever they were here about unsettled them, and Charles could only imagine what that was.

“We were asleep, in our beds,” Charles said, Jean and Ororo nodding. The way the sisters were glancing at other, they had also come to realise that Logan wasn’t among them.

“Can anyone corroborate your claim?” the constable asked, and Charles swallowed.

“No one apart from us. We do not receive guests at that hour, and definitely not while we sleep,” Charles replied, the constable narrowing his eyes at Charles’s slightly sharp words. “And may I ask why you are asking these questions, barging into our home without so much as a greeting?”

“Mr Stryker’s body was found dead in his home this morning, with three slashing knife wounds from sternum to navel,” the constable said, Jean and Ororo letting out shocked noises, Charles’s eyes widening. The constable took in all of their reactions; all three had seemed to have genuinely been shocked, making the constable’s shoulders loosen slightly.

The constable looked around the room properly then, noticing the packed bags, and how the women were wearing their travel cloaks. The house was neat because it was empty, and the furniture had been covered by white cloths with the intent to leave it vacant for a long time.

“You can’t blame me for being a little suspicious that you three seem to be fleeing the morning after a murder,” the constable said, Charles tensing imperceivably.

“Yes. You may have heard that I received news from a lawyer in recent days. There had been a withheld request in my late father’s will, and I have been called away. The others of Eden House are my family, and they sought to accompany me,” Charles said, the constable humming.

“You three are all teachers at the school. Stryker would not have let you all leave. Maybe that is why you…” the constable dragged his finger from sternum to navel, mimicking a knife being dragged down. Charles felt ill, and he shook his head, mouth a tight line.

“We would never do something like that,” Charles said. Even if Stryker was a monster, even if he deserved it. “And constable, I would like you to take a look at the three of us. My sisters are young maidens, and would not be capable of injuring Mr Stryker in such a cruel manner. And I, am, well. It is no secret that I am a cripple. There is no way I could best Stryker in this state.”

The policemen all looked at each other, mumbling ‘yes, he’s right’ and ‘of course’. The constable, too, found this to be a sound idea, but that only lead him to remember that four people lived at Eden House, and not just the three in front of him. The missing one was, by far, the most dangerous of the four.

“Mr Logan Howlett lives here too, does he not? Where is he?” the constable asked, the three family members tensing.

“Truthfully? I have not seen him since this morning,” Charles said, jerking his head towards their bedroom. “He went to bed last night as per normal. I would know.”

The constable’s eyes narrowed, peering into the bedroom, and noticing that there was only one bed.

“You two… share a bed?” the constable asked, shocked murmurs erupting from the congregation of policemen.

“It is out of necessity, officers,” Jean piped up, keeping her voice steady. “This house was not made to accommodate four inhabitants, and my brother here came to us less than a year ago. It is too cold for him to stay on the chaise like he did during spring and summer, so he was forced to share a bed with our brother. You can imagine that it would not be appropriate for him to share a bed with me or my sister, is that not true?”

Charles turned to look at Jean, head nodding minutely. Jean returned it by stepping forward, resting her hand on Charles’s left shoulder. Charles felt steadier when Ororo flanked him on the other side, her dark hand squeezing his other shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes, it is as my dear sister said. It is in that way that we seek to leave now. This house has become too confining for us, so we seek a new residence. And regarding the matter about this parish losing its teachers – I have given a weighty sum to the Father to help with the hiring of new teachers, and to support the children in the meantime,” Charles said, the constable now managing to look surprised.

“That was you?” the constable asked, staring at Charles. “The Father did hint that he had received a sizeable donation for the children. If that’s the case…”

“Yes, so you see, Mr Stryker – rest his soul – had approved of our leave since we did not leave him empty handed. We have no reason, and no means, to injure him so,” Charles said, the policemen looking at each other once more, before filing out one-by-one. It was only the constable that looked at Charles carefully, a touch sharper than the newly-instated fledgling police force. He seemed to weigh up some things in his mind, before taking a step towards Charles.

“You taught my son, and he has sung nothing but praises for you,” the constable said, mouth curling up at the corners. “And, you evidently care about the children, more so than Stryker ever did. His ‘care’ was only flaunted when it made him look good. You, though. You genuinely care for them, I can see that. So I’ll warn you – it would be best for your brother to not show his face around here any time soon.”

Charles, Jean and Ororo let out shocked noises, the constable just smiling, tapping on Charles’s hand-rest twice.

“Safe travels, Sir. Misses,” was the last thing the constable said, tipping his hat and departing from the residence.

When they were sure he was out of sight and earshot, Jean and Ororo huddled in front of Charles’s chair, babbling about ‘What in the dickens did Logan do?’ ‘That idiot!’ ‘Did he really do that to Stryker?’ ‘Where is he?’

Charles quickly turned back to the bedroom, going straight to his desk. The papers and books Logan had been sorting last night were still there, seemingly forgotten. But Charles knew that, though Logan seemed messy, he was purposeful. Charles rummaged through the papers, flicking through the books until he found a folded, slightly crinkled piece of paper wedged in the back of one of them.

Chuck,

You are probably angry, and I wish I could see it – you were always the most alive when you were angry. If you’re seeing this, it’s either because you have unpacked after you returned to that master of yours, or you’ve found out about what I did.

I know Stryker more than you, even more than Jean and Ororo. They were too young to know, but Stryker and I, we have history. Bad history. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that I know what type of man that he is intimately. He has killed to get where he is, and Chuck, that man wasn’t nearly as powerful as you. What’s scary, is that you don’t even know the power you can have over people. I’ve seen it, and Stryker’s seen it.

Even if you leave, Stryker will seek to defame you and slander you. Even though you mean no harm to him and his empire, he will never believe that. He will try to destroy you, use your reputation about you ‘proclivities’, as Jean put it, to end you. The world is not like us, and would likely rather see you hang.

And I can’t have that, Chuck. So, I did what I had to do.

Since you’re reading this, know that I have gone far, and believe that I am safe. Ororo said that the Americas is wild and untamed. I think I’d like that. I can take care of myself, believe me. Jean and Ororo, though. They will need you, Chuck. So, if I can ask you to be selfless one last time, please look after them.

This is not good bye though, Chuck. Time is long, and I think that we could meet again, in the future.

Logan

“Idiot,” Charles whispered, as Jean and Ororo both smothered sobs as they read the letter from behind his chair. Charles rubbed his eyes, worried for this hulking idiot, who in the end, was really the most selfless of them all.

‘I’ll look after them, my friend. You can trust me on that, and one day, you can come and check to see that I’ve kept my promise in person.’

After an hour spent crying and accepting that Logan had truly gone far, Charles, Jean and Ororo took hold of their packed cases, beginning their journey. For Jean and Ororo, it was a new adventure. For Charles, it was a journey to return back home.

Charles could barely sleep the whole carriage ride, but when he drew nearer to Ironfield, he swore that he could hear that voice calling out to him in his mind.

‘Charles’.

Next chapter (10/11) →

[lemonwaterwithice]

saffire’s lagoon, known affectionately and almost exclusively by locals in the area as saffy’s, is a beach-themed dive bar a few miles from ucf’s campus. opened in 2010 by a ucf grad who never quite got over his senior spring break trip to cancun, it’s known for its cheap drinks and lax security, making it a favorite among college kids and young adults. saffy’s features over ten bars inside and outside, a shot wheel, and a large man-made “beach” - an outdoor area covered in sand with a few “lagoons” throughout, where you’ll find mermaids pouring shots thursday through saturday. no one would ever describe saffy’s as quiet or clean and the service most nights is questionable at best, but it’s developed an almost cult-like following in the years it’s been open. people love saffy’s for what it is - a place to see classmates (or old classmates), drink $2 beer, and make questionable decisions without judgment.

hm? is this based on my two favorite bars bc i don’t know if i’ll get to go this summer? mayhaps!! but in any case, i’m looking for a group of co-dependent co-workers who contribute to the charm and the chaos that is saffy’s. 

JACK / owner (first last, 32+, played by name) — founded saffire’s lagoon sometime after his college graduation in 2010 - whether it was a quarter-life crisis or a lifelong dream, the story changes depending on who asks. big time peter pan complex, could stand to do some growing up, just might for LAURA if she would ever give him the time of day. may or may not be the reason that the whole “never trust a man whose name starts with j” trend started going around, but he takes excellent care of the people he employs. despite his carefree attitude, saffy’s is his baby, he put blood, sweat, and tears into making it what it is, and he continues to work hard to ensure it’s success.

LAURA / front bar (first last, 30+, reserved for del) — has been working at saffy’s for as long as it’s been open and is almost as integral to its success as JACK is. the two of them are as close as one would expect after working together for ten years, although LAURA refuses to acknowledge that time they slept together after the infamous Holiday Party of 2015. she’s got the patience of a saint, usually the one left to train the new employees and ultimately decide who makes it working here or not. a tough love kinda gal, but always willing to lend a helping hand for the greater good. good at her job, dammit, just don’t try to pry into her personal life.

CALEB / beach bar (first last, 25+, played by name) — CALEB is LAURA’S younger brother (or cousin or bff, utp!!), something the rest of the staff figured out quick because his behavior would never have flown otherwise. like, LAURA once caught him and RILEY doing coke in the bathroom during one of their breaks but let it go. also sometimes drinks on the job when he feels like it. lazy, but well-meaning, no one can find it in their heart to stay mad at CALEB for too long, even when they have to pick up his slack. prefers to spend his shifts flirting with JACK, too preoccupied looking around to see where he’s at on any given night to notice that ANGEL has been trying to get his attention.

ANGEL / beach bar (first last, 22+, reserved for jenn) — despite being hired around the same time as RILEY, MARA, OLIVER, and KYLE, no one knows much of anything about angel. but it’s not for lack of trying. it’s gotten to the point where the co-workers make up stories about her background and place bets on who can get closest to the truth, if ANGEL is willing to confirm anything in the first place. it’s not that she don’t want to share anything about herself, she’s just quiet, and it’s become kind of fun being the mysterious one in the bar. unbeknownst to the rest of the group, and without even realizing it himself, CALEB knows ANGEL better than anyone else.

RILEY / shot wheel + mermaid (riley emerson, 22, sydney sweeney, played by alex) — applied to work at saffy’s because her boyfriend at the time, KYLE, got an interview. they broke up (for the first time) shortly after, but she decided not to quit bc she really liked the attention of bartending. they’ve been off and on for the majority of their time at saffy’s, though in the last year or so, they broke up for good. RILEY is easygoing and friendly, usually the one found playing therapist to drunk girls at her bar. sometimes acts without thinking which has gotten her into more than a few sticky situations. trying to be more responsible now that she’s a college grad, which finds her turning down all of OLIVER’S advances.

MARA / beach bar + mermaid (holly mack, 24, kristine froseth, played by maddie) — MARA’S got a rep for being kinda mean to customers, but she’s so pretty that no one has ever complained. lives with the RILEY, but whether they hate or love each other just depends on the day. they had a 3-way with KYLE after the aforementioned Holiday Party of 2015, which continues to be the butt of many jokes among the staff. went on a date with KYLE shortly after that, but felt guilty bc of his relationship with RILEY so she made him swear to keep it a secret and she keeps him at an arm’s length to this day.

OLIVER / bouncer (first last, 22+, reserved for bribri) — something of a celebrity in the bar - there was once an entire instagram account dedicated to “saffy’s hot bouncer”. the attention mostly goes over his head, but JACK is happy to have him outside the front door most nights to bring business in. OLIVER’S a good guy, level-headed and patient enough to break up fights and turn away drunk people without anything ever escalating. he’s had a crush on RILEY since they all started working together four years ago, but kept his distance out of respect for KYLE. now that they’ve finally broken up, the two of them have been getting a lot closer, but he can’t tell how she actually feels about it.

KYLE / shot wheel (first last, 22+ reserved for derek) —KYLE is the resident himbo. pretty harmless because he’s so dumb, although like RILEY, he trends towards impulsiveness more often than not. KYLE’S the one behind some of the more chaotic practices and themes at saffy’s (i.e.: hawaiian shirt night). only got put at the shot wheel because they needed someone tall enough and strong enough to be able to spin it. he’s been trying to get moved to the beach bar so that he can spend more time with MARA because he knows that he can charm her if he can just get the chance. 

ok so! this is just a list of co-workers that riley is closest with, but i am completely open to other staff members as well! they can be intermingled with the core group i have listed if you have ideas, or they can just be begrudging witnesses as they try to go about their job. i’m also open to other positions besides bartenders/bouncers, like bar backs and cooks, or the more administrative side of things, like marketing managers or operations. just let me know if you’re looking for a job for your character and what you have in mind, i’d be more than happy to squeeze as many people in as possible! reply here or add me on discord (alex???#0019) and i’d be happy to chat. thx for reading :)

first last, ##, owner, played by name

riley emerson, 22, bartender, played by alex

holly mack, 24, bartender, played by maddie

first last, ##, bouncer, played by name

first last, ##, bar back, played by name

+ etc.

[queercapwriting]

An “it’s my birthday!!” prompt from my dear friend @supertworld - you are an amazing soul, and the world is so much more amazing because you’re in it. Thank you for you, Dec! <3 <3 <3 

“Could I have enby Alex, Adrian, and trans Peter Parker, trans Steve Rogers, and trans Barry Allen (and I mean if you wanted you could throw in Winn cause we all know he's trans 😘) .... I'm partial to angsty fluff... Like Alex having dealt with a world that doesn't get them and the rest being there for them....”

Adrian leaned over Miles, mouth all agape at the doodles Miles thought were “just okay.” 

“No, man, they’re amazing.”

“Yeah, okay, just like sticking to everything is amazing,” Miles rolled his eyes without taking his eyes off his sketchpad, but he grinned anyway. 

Peter looked down from where he was clinging to the ceiling, hair flopping down chaotically. “Your stuff really is amazing, Miles. And come on, you know you love the sticking.” Peter released his fingers so he was straight-up upside down, almost thwacking Adrian in the head with his own.

“You’re like a damn bat now,” Adrian muttered, and Miles snickered. 

Peter squinted, arms crossed across his chest like he wasn’t, in fact, hanging upside down. “I feel like Barry said there’s already a Batman. But I don’t think he’s got our particular brand of charm.”

A gush of wind threatening Miles’ entire sketchbook, but he and Peter had  Barry-proofed it since the first disastrous incident. “Did I hear someone talk about Batman? Yeah, Gotham is hardcore.” Barry shook his head, collapsing his head onto Alex’s lap, who rolled their eyes but patted Barry’s shoulder anyway. “Your wife’s doing a great job down there, by the way. Here, she gave me this to give you,” Barry told Alex as Adrian, Miles, and Peter cooed and giggled because Alex has a wife.

Alex blushed when they opened the short letter Barry slipped them. “What’s it say, Alex?” Adrian tried waggling his eyebrows. Alex threw a pillow at him. 

“There are children about,” they winked at Barry.

“I’m not a children!” Adrian pouted.

“We’re not kids!” Peter protested, still upside down with his hair absolutely everywhere.

“Who’s a child? What’s a child?” Miles asked.

Alex snorted at the boys’ antics. Barry took advantage of their distraction to steal the note from Alex, but he only blushed and spluttered intensely when they let him succeed. “Um, well, yes, these are... I need to step up my note-writing to Iris...”

Someone else stepped into the door Barry had left open, and Alex surrendered any hope of alone time. They’d been more than happy to open their home to all the trans superheroes they knew (Winn and Nia were with Maggie in Gotham for the weekend, and Fitz and Daisy were off in space somewhere with their girlfriend), because at least it protected them from numbness. At least these boys understood.

So they grinned when they looked up to see Steve towering over all the tiny boys, plus Alex. They could see how he could seem threatening, all muscley white man, but even the bulge of his biceps - the man didn’t seem to know what sleeves were except when in uniform - couldn’t take away from the sheer kindness of his eyes.

“Just checking,” he gave everyone a little wave, but his eyes found Miles. “Did you take off your binder today, kid? Stretch yet?”

Miles groaned and glared, utterly non-menacing, at everyone around him. “Just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean you all have to take care of me - ”

“Sure we do,” Peter finally dropped down from the ceiling. “You’re a fetus.”

“A zygote, even,” Adrian added. Barry, Alex, and Steve met each other’s eyes and tried not to laugh.

“But did you, Miles?” Alex cut in. 

“No,” he muttered, padding out of the room to take a binder break in Alex’s gigantic bathroom. “Thanks for looking out, guys. Pero no soy un niñito,” he added under his breath as he went.

Steve smiled after Miles before turning to Alex, leaning against the doorframe as he squinted at them critically. “You okay, Danvers? You seem off today. Do you need us to clear out?”

Barry sat up, ready to leave if Alex needed it, and Adrian and Peter looked over carefully. But Alex tugged Barry back down to relax, and just shook their head, leaning back against the wall and closing their eyes.

“Just. All the different timelines, all the different planets, right? All the different Earths.”

Steve sighed and crouched down to listen, nodding like he knew where this was going, and felt it, too.

Adrian crouched closer to Alex, and when Miles came back into the room, he climbed the walls quietly to be nearer to Peter, nearer to Alex.

“And none of them get it, you know? And you’d think, right, you’d think that at least some of them would be better. That it wouldn’t be such a rare damn relief to sit in a room and have everyone just get it, right? It shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t be every day, not being enough of anything, or being too much of one thing or the other. It’s a double life with superheroing, it’s a double life with gender, and you and Miles, Adrian, and Daisy, I know you three have got an even tighter vice around you than even we do.”

Barry nodded, quiet, his fingers finding his wedding ring.

“But it’s not about the rest of the world, sometimes,” Miles put his hand on their shoulder. Alex grinned softly - from the mouth of the tiniest one - and let out a small chuckle when it took Miles a moment to unstick. “Sometimes, it’s about the refuge we give each other.”

“That’s a good one, Miles, you should catchphrase it or something,” Peter smiled, even as his hand found Alex’s.

“Or at least street art it somewhere,” Adrian agreed as he laid his head next to Barry’s on Alex’s lap.

“Or put it on a post-it for Alex for when they forget,” Steve smiled gently, his eyes never having left Alex’s face.

“You’ve lived for like, seven thousand generations, Cap,” Peter said earnestly. As an aside, he whispered to Miles and Adrian, “He’s great at helping with history homework.” But then he turned grave again. “What do you think? Is it worth it?”

“Worth being ourselves and finding solace in each other?” Steve asked. “Absolutely. Every single time, in every lifetime.”

“But sometimes it’s so...” Alex tossed up their hands, and they didn’t have to put the crush of depression into words. They all... knew.

“Yeah, it is,” Barry agreed. “It is so...” He played with his wedding ring again. “But the highs of it are better, too. We get the worst lows, sure, but we get the most amazing joy. I don’t think people can access it, when they don’t go through what we do.”

“Mood,” Miles muttered. Steve squinted, processing, but seemed to get the general idea.

“So you think I can do this?”

“This being... being you?” Adrian confirmed. Alex nodded, not bothering to hide the tears in their eyes. Some days were just like that, and if they couldn’t be real about that with their sister, that part of their family, and with these guys... they’d have no outlet, ever. And they needed one. Badly. So they let the tears drop.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can definitely do it. You taught me to be me,” Adrian shrugged, looking down with a small smile. 

Alex leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Yeah, and I suffer for it every day,” they teased, and Adrian pretended to be offended. But only for a moment.

“I love you, Alex. We all do. And sometimes, that’s the bit that matters most, even when the world... all the worlds... just suck.”

“Permanent mood,” Peter muttered, and Steve looked, again, confounded.

Alex laughed. “We’ll get you into memes, Steve.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he laughed. 

But suddenly Alex knew how to feel better. How to survive another day. They took out their phone, and pulled up the long set of images they sent around with the spider kids.

They pouted at Steve, and because it was the Danvers sibling pout, and because Steve’s heart was made of both marshmallows and steel, he relented right away, scooting closer until they were all leaning into Alex’s phone, teaching Captain America about memes.

It didn’t fix everything. But it made them more connected to the ground underneath their feet - ironic, since the spider boys were both now hanging from the ceiling for a better view - and Alex smiled. Because it didn’t need to fix everything to give them hope.

[swiftlythebest]

Do you have a dreamcast for the Maraunders?

Okay, there are some fairly popular Marauder fancasts on Tumblr but at this point they’re all... too... old... I love the idea of Aaron Taylor-Johnson as James as much as the next person, but he’s 29 now. James died at 21.

So I’m gonna go (mostly) with teens. And forgive me for not knowing many British teen actors. Or teen actors in general.

Sirius: Finn Wolfhard. Hear me out: he’s killing it as Mike and did so well as Richie. He’s very much got the look for it as well; dark, scraggly hair and a sort of impish charm. Yeah, he’s not British but he can do an accent, probably!

Lily: Amybeth McNulty. She’s brilliant in Anne with an E and has such a good look for Lily. While I absolutely LOVE Karen Gillan, she’s so blindingly gorgeous. Lily, at least to me, always seemed to have more of an unassuming beauty with her true beauty coming from her mind. Actually, very Anne-like. I’m a big fan of this casting.

James: Maybe I’ve been watching too much HSMTMTS, but I could see Joshua Bassett. He could totally be the cocky ringleader with a heart of gold. I don’t know, that’s probably heavily influenced by watching him play a gem of a character every week now. If he could do a good accent, I think it could work.

Lupin: Okay, he’s not a teen and he may end up looking too old next to the other ones, but Alex Lawther. He’s so good in The End of the F***ing World. I can so see him as the hard-working, exhausted werewolf who everyone just loves. It works for me, I think.

Peter: I don’t know... There’s probably someone good. Maybe Ty Simpkins? I met him once and he seemed cool. He’s probably talented enough to play Peter with a lot of nuance and maybe show his descent into darkness while trying to maintain his friends’ trust. 🤷🏻‍♀️

The only two I’m super into are Finn Wolfhard and Amybeth McNulty. Also, I’d like it better if everyone were British, but as an American, I’m not too clued into the up and coming British talent.

I’m sure others have better ideas so please let me know! (And don’t judge me too harshly.)