#in case anyone has thoughts and opinions and feels inclined to share but would prefer to stay on anon... my inbox should be open

[arcaneoddity]

So... I'm not the only heavily gender-pondering person who will refer to themselves as their AGAB or lump themselves in with their AGAB out of habit time and time again only to feel kinda weird/bad about it... right?

Like, if I keep claiming I'm not that gender, why is it I keep aligning myself with it, am I just making it all up? Am I just desperately trying to be something I'm not, potentially just to fit into a box?

Mind you, I can tell that me thinking those things and having those doubts is most likely bullshit and impostor syndrome related and I'm not actually making shit up but like.

Does anyone even relate to that? Is it just me? It can't just be me, right??

[shuhey-hisagi]

Espada request! Have any general and relationship hcs for Grimmjow?

Grimmjow was my biggest crush in middle school lol

General headcanons:

Okay, so Grimmjow was a panther-esque hollow before he became an espada, so I heavily believe he displays a number of panther-like behaviors. (Though, I do love the cat headcanons for him- they are so funny). So, going off this...

Grimmjow has a booming voice. He’s not necessarily loud, though he can be if needed. His voice can carry through and be heard from great distances. It’s extremely powerful and brings anyone in its vicinity to alertness. If anyone didn’t know, panthers usually use their vocals to maintain their home ranges and ensure their solitude. Grimmjow will be a little shit and use this vocal power to keep others from approaching him. 

Despite his powerful voice, Grimmjow is quite a stealthy individual. He’s silently prowling about at all times, and unless he wants his presence to be known, it will stay that way. He has a light tread and normally just goes about his business for hours before anyone has the chance to notice. He’s not extremely aware of this, and has been caught by surprise when others display mass shock when he lets himself be known. 

He values his solitude. He doesn’t need to be around others unless he is close to them. His Fracción are a good example of this. Though Grimmjow prefers to be alone, he thought of them as members of his family or pack when he was an adjuchas. To this point, he didn’t complain about their presence unless they were particularly annoying him. 

Going off the previous point, Grimmjow harbors powerful feelings of protectiveness for his Fracción and any other person he deems important to him. He expects these people to hold their own and not need his protection at all times, but if there are. threats, he is naturally inclined to straighten himself and become an obvious obstacle for said threat. 

Climbing trees and scaling walls is a secret habit of his for when he’s restless. He sees a climbable surface and is obligated to go see if he can get to the top. He will leave in the middle of conversations just to climb a tower. He also likes to isolate himself in these areas, especially since they are hard to get access for others. 

He breaks his nails often when he’s not using his hierro. It’s a bad habit of his to be more intense than necessary at times and it comes at the cost of ripping off his poor nails from the bone. He can be found with bandages around his fingers a lot of the time.

Though he might not seem it, Grimmjow can make use of his brain when he wants to. It’s useful when he wants to solve a puzzle someone gave him from the world of the living or for determining the amount of time and effort it would take to scale a particular building. 

He talks so much when he’s tired and near someone who will listen. Ask him a question, and he’ll go on forever about his opinions. His thought process is muddled and he makes connections where others wouldn’t, so it’s always interesting to hear what he has to say. The more tired he is, the more convoluted his reasoning becomes.

When visiting the World of the Living, he often stays with Kisuke just as a formality, since the latter wishes to learn more about Grimmjow’s constitution. Grimmjow does loiter around the Kurosaki residence in hopes of fighting Ichigo, but this backfires when Ichigo starts inviting him in and slowly conditions a friendship (though, Grimmjow will never call it so). 

Relationship headcanons:

Let me preface this by saying It’s both difficult to get his attention but pretty easy to get his attention. Grimmjow is someone who is guarded and won’t allow just anyone to et close to him. 

It goes without saying that he is attracted to people who display immense strength, mental and physical. He can’t stand people that act meek and helpless. To him, that’s a sign of weakness and lack of will to survive. He needs someone who can put up a fight while also putting him in his place. His instinct from his time as a lesser hollow and even now as an Espada tend to drive this feeling. 

One also needs to consider that Grimmjow is simply an asshole who will do a lot just to make someone’s life hell. He doesn’t take others’ feelings seriously unless he is particularly invested in them and wants to gain something from them. 

It takes him a long time to decide he wants to be with someone mostly because as an Espada there wasn’t much in way of relationships. Yes, some did become close with others and have intimate relationships, but Grimmjow was not one of them. He’s aware of the practices, but it never felt organic to him. 

To get his attention, one would have to work quite little but have a lot of confidence to execute the actions that would be notable for him. Petting the back of his head when he does something right, making sure to greet him when he’s part of a gathering and secluding himself, and making active attempts to check in with him are all small but important ways of standing out to him. 

The first time you pet his hair, he twists back with the most angry expression and is ready to knock you away. However, once he realizes there’s no threat, he’s like a deer in headlights wondering why you would mess with his hair.

He looks forward to you visiting Kisuke’s shop so that you can say hi to him and ask him what he’s been doing. He usually won’t answer with more than two phrases, but it’s nice for someone to ask him. 

Grimmjow does have a tendency to offer you gifts. Usually the severed hands of your enemies, but it’s something.

I’m kidding.

Mostly.

But he does enjoy bringing you trinkets, such as jewelry or a safety charm he found. He’s not the best with gifts, and usually relies on just bringing you food or practical items. For example, if you ever need a pen, he’s carrying one on him at all times. He’s kind of like a cat in this regard- just bringing you whatever he deems a worthy offering.

Any shows of affection cause him to freeze in the beginning. He can’t remember if he experienced it back when he was a human, and there was no way he experienced it during his time after. He’s relearning affection, which is an interesting journey. 

To that point, he rests his head near you when he wants you to play with his hair. He’ll lay on your shoulder when you work just to be near you. He often has a hard time gauging how much force to put into a hug, so he’ll hold you too tight, but the happiness from him making the first move almost makes it okay. He also moves in to quickly for kisses, leading to smashing your foreheads and noses together, and in more awkward cases, bashing your teeth against each other. 

He’s trying

Grimmjow is casual about showing his possession over you near others. He doesn’t make a point of it to be affectionate around them, but if he hasn’t seen you in a while and you show up, he’s more than willing to dip you and deeply kiss you before moving on with his day. He likes when he holds your hand and put it in his jacket pocket when walking. 

He’s pretty playful and enjoys wrestling in bed. If he can tickle you while holding you down, he’s going to do so. It goes back to his nature as a hollow- he’s just a little mischievous even if he won’t admit it. Feeling you under him and seeing you laugh while trying to escape is extremely exciting for him. He might even chuckle a few times himself, and not in his usual maniacal manner.

He’s not the best communicator, and it falls on you to figure out why he’s in a mood if he even shows a sign of being upset. Usually he will isolate himself, but since you two are close, he’s naturally inclined to express his mood. He can snap at you and express himself harshly, which can be an obstacle in your relationship. 

Grimmjow isn’t a mean partner. In fact, he’s pretty accommodating and lets you do things at your own pace as long as you respect his need for space and unwillingness to share his every thought. 

He likes making sure you’re safe. He likes teasing you to the point where you attempt to strangle him. He likes that he’s feelings something other than a need to fight someone and cause problems. 

[hundtoth]

while this should not have to be said aloud - heathenry is not a racist faith! unfortunately, such a statement is necessary to voice... unless you’re a chauvinistic and/or a xenophobic heathen, that’s what this post pertains to: sure, it’s not untold that in the modern world heathenry has been pockmarked by the allotment of symbols seized by hate groups alongside the adulteration of our religious ‘brethren’, with hateful individuals that warp our teachings to portray their hateful demands. our much beloved germanic neopaganism has become a justification for racist behaviour, from the propaganda of the nazi party which applied many of our symbols (such as the fylfot), to the germanic people pointing with pride as the pinnacle of the aryan race. a big problem that faces the heathen practice, while it is innocuous at heart, are the attempts to bear on labels to various heathen sub-groups as ‘racist’ and ‘not racist’. it has become favoured by heathens to cleave up heathenry into splinter groups; universalism, tribalism, and folkism (as the dominant ones), which are often viewed as ‘not racist’, ‘racist?’ and ‘racist!’ respectively. let me be the one to unburden that and say that these terms are not key definitions to those three groups, and that this is the root of the problem. the issue is that these terms are neither here nor there and cannot be applied in whole to the groups that they are supposed to attain to. this is because there exists no foundation within the religion for racist beliefs, which means that those who venture into the ancient praxis could fall under the folkish bracket and may not be and are often not racist. albeit, it’s commonplace for people to label themselves such things to be closer to those who share their views on racism, but that causes some to abandon a title tailored to their practice in favor of one that doesn’t, simply to avoid the bleak implications of said title. in my mind, i believe that we should not be giving monikers to those within the faith with racist tendencies as they simply are not deserving of them. they do not deserve to ornament themselves with the title of a specific group as this just causes a continuation upon the idea that their beliefs around that area of the faith are valid, altering its meaning entirely. to clarify the true to life meanings behind these groups, as they are applied to the preferences of method of practice by each heathen, we have;

universalism - a belief that anyone, irregardless of race, gender or sexual orientation, may practice under the heathen umbrella. the universalism belief structure has been criticized often for failing to motivate its followers to the same depth as others, and allowing the prevalence of contrary philosophies to those present within heathenry. universalists reproduce declaration 127, also known as havamal-stanza 127, which can be cherished by anyone for its simple utterance of: recognize evil, speak out against it, and give no truces to your enemies. however, declaration 127 is denounced commonly due to its poor efforts (similar to the criticism of social media campaigns for ‘likes’ with no physical backing) and it’s false sense of security within heathenry.

tribalism - considered to be ‘in the middle’ by many heathens. tribalists try to vindicate the old and new methods through moderate reconstructionalism, and have a tendency to conceptualise ethnic heritage without maintaining boundaries within practice. the purest way to describe a tribalist is a practicing heathen that integrates the ‘old ways’ into their lifestyle, and they often assert that one must earn the title of heathen - that it doesn’t matter who you are, you must put in the effort and study, which may span years.

folkism - folkist beliefs carry the most stigma, in which racist beliefs are widespread, claiming that germanic paganism is an ethnic right. while this is not always the case, it gives the impression that germanic paganism is only open to those with a connection to the germanic peoples, in a ‘heretic’ kind of way. within folkism, there exists a cross-section as to how this should be enforced, though it is unclouded that it has become a seedbed for racism within the overarching faith that is often under-fire for being contradictory to itself with no substantive evidence that the nordic peoples were racist.

what these terms have set out to do is prognosticate the beliefs of heathens away from how they comfortably choose to practice their faith. the three groups aforementioned fell into those titles not solely due to racism but to essentially describe a heathens practice through daily life. these terms inflict uncertainty to several thought processes within heathenry where race is not a factor, thus cold-shouldering heathens who heed to such traditions when they are presumed to be mirroring the racist views held by their counterparts under the tribalist or folkish stamps which have precured their titles because of racist prospects, not because of how they adopt practice, which is the true basis of these terms. in retrospect, trying to rank the groups within heathenry with the aim of plucking out a method of practice under ‘racism’ only adds more conflict to our community as a whole. i suggest that, especially to new heathens, you should explore these groups further to better your understanding of the people that you may be dealing with and what their ideas are but, be mindful of the fact that you are not required to declare yourself as anything, as these terms tend to only exist as a guide into finding like-minded people. additionally, it would be baseless to create suppositions about anyone within heathenry for the titles that they have chosen to align under as each group is diverse, not only in its members but in its beliefs. another important concept to mention when discussing racism in heathenry are the origins of germanic paganism. germanic ancestors adored the idea of ancestry through honour and worship, and as they would of been white, such ancestors must of been white, too. this would give the impression that when one turns their hand to ancestral veneration within heathenry, while not being white, by very definition they would be inclined to practice their own ancestral faith, which would not be heathenry - because they are not white. to connect to one’s ancestors, many heathens find it essential to practice their ancestral ways through faith and culture, but when someone has no nordic ancestry, heathens may imply that other heathens should be following their own ancestry instead, which is quite paradoxical and backs many people into a corner. an argument often occurs within heathenry regarding spirituality and how it is ‘passed through the ages’, validated by claims that we assume elements of our fate and soul from our lineage and how our ancestors could be reincarnated as a factor of that. as such, it is only those with nordic ancestry who may hear the call of the old gods. they attempt to rationalize this by claiming that white people cannot feel the call of other ancestral ways and other religions, and thus is all fair and equal. however, when we are called back to the ‘old ways’, the old ways are our own individual pasts, as something ingrained into our spiritual histories. for those who are non-whites, this path would not be heathenry, at least according to those who convey this claim. withal, symbols, in my own opinion, have greater intrigue for racists undertaking heathenry above all, with many already falling victim to the racist facets of such symbols whilst being used erroneously by hate groups for many years. additionally, new symbols are often purloined and misappropriated, rather than observed as segments of a faithful movement, instead they are seen as the ideograms of ancient whites; mjolnir, runic othala, valknut and ravens, amongst many more. as mentioned in an earlier paragraph, many symbols now associated with the nazi regime (the SS and swastika) are, or were, once deep-heathen symbolism. ofcourse, the swastika is immediate throughout history but if we were to be straight-thinking, we can surmise that the nazis used it for its association to heathenry, not its association to buddhism, etc. even if these people understood the symbols that they clutched on to and their authentic meanings in a religious sense, they are still related to the previously mentioned concepts within the origins that they have already manipulated to suit themselves, for example, the othala rune, which at a very basic level relates to heritage and ancestry. with a racists obsession with white ancestry, its very easy to see why an ancestral symbol from a white culture would be appealing. within this post, i have tried to emphasise that there is no basis for racism within heathenry if one was to, with all intents and purposes, understand heathen-history and its logic. here are a select few reasons as to why i personally think that any racist who applies heathenry to validate their intolerant opinions are both wrong and uneducated:

assuming that one’s spiritual inclination was genetic, which a vast majority of pagans today discredit, it simply wouldn’t matter. conducting a shallow study on genetics would reveal that it would be almost impossible in the ever-present to have a direct gene from any ancestor who would have been pagan in the viking era. some of the most controversially racist heathens today haven’t had a directly european ancestor in the last 200 years, oops! to paraphrase wayland skallagrimsson, there have been roughly 50 generations between the end of ancient heathenry and today, which means that for most people, contributions to DNA from any heathen ancestor amount to ‘less than 1 ten-trillionth of one percent’. contributions from christian ancestors would be 25-50% of one's genes. let us entertain the concept that one had inherited the genes of their heathen ancestors, scientists largely agree that thoughts and beliefs are culturally influenced anyway. while it is understood that mental illnesses can be inherited, they hold basis not in memory but in brain development, hormonal signals and genetically encoded processes within the body. perhaps it is true, after all, there is the disorder of victim mentality where one believes themselves to be under constant attack, so perhaps racists are just merely ill? poor souls.

there exists no single indication within the eddas and sagas of racial exclusion. our ancient germanic ancestors were well travelled and would have had a large sense of worldliness, caring little about those of other ethnicity, otherwise we would have a myth expanding upon that. in point of fact, odin seeks knowledge from the jötuns who, from a mythological standpoint, represent the ‘outsiders’. despite being the adversaries to the gods on almost all occasions, they often married into the aesir and were included amongst the figureheads (see loki and skadi), and had children together that were pivtotal to the tale of the world, such as magni and modi, children to thor and the jötun named jarnsaxa, whom of which are not only divine, but so pure that they take up the role of thor, and his hammer, after ragnarok to be the defenders of all. the mixing of the ‘outsiders’ to the central gods conveys a pespective from the ancients that position of birth has no bearing on one’s own ability to be pure and welcome.

similarly, there exists no historical evidence to say that ancient germanics were inherently racist. ibn fadhlan, an arabian traveller with produced written works on the germanic people of his age, was entitled to observe and learn of the ‘northern way’, involving himself in rites, alongside slaves who were integrated into the culture and religion historically - which is how we now have accounts of such things. not only do we have have the assimilation of others into the norse culture, we also have norsemen’s graves decorated with arabic emblems, proposing that they themselves diverged from their own ‘righteous path’, to be open and embracing of other cultures and faiths. in fact, germanics have been depicted on many occasions to have participated in the religious celebrations of the cultures to which they travelled, most notably the baptism of king radbod, in honor of a christian friend. additonally, archaeologists have deliberated in many different practices that the norse learnt skills and adopted traits from other cultures, such as the filling of teeth, prior to the occurrence of those practices in nordic culture, telling us that they took back cultural idiosyncrasies of other cultures to their own homelands - our faith would not have kept body and soul together without the aid of many ancient scholars belonging to other creeds and races, and it is a disgrace to disregard them today.

my final disproof is purely opinionated, which is that racism as a whole goes against the very tenants of heathenry. to strive to bar another person from coming into your ‘territory’ shows an acknowledgement of threat from that person. a threat, of course, can only be a threat if you acknowledge that they could overtake you, should you be weak. so, in being racist and fearing the prevalence of other races, racist whites are putting themselves into a position of weakness and equality with those other races. after all, if they weren’t equal certainly it wouldn’t take any effort at all on the part of the white peoples to be dominant, right? no! racism is cowardly and shows an easily wounded ego on the part of the racist; some of the greatest insults in the old norse language are to be weak and cowardly, and thus it is impossible for any racist to truly uphold the values of heathenry.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, bothering you a third time (last one was here), thinking about what you said about how the Heart type lies to us, and the disparity between how we prefer to think of our own motivations and our actual motivations?   We all lie to ourselves, all the time.    I read about the Six tendency to blame others and feel intense anxiety because no one likes people who blame other people; I might secretly blame other people, but I will never, ever admit that (except here, with a pseudonym!) - because if I admit to blaming other people, then they won’t like me.  If anything goes wrong, I always insist that it is completely my fault (even if it’s clearly not) - because I would much rather take the blame than risk making people dislike me.   I often want to complain or vent, but I don’t, because I know people won’t like me if I do (and also - more importantly! - because complaining and venting brings everyone down and stresses everyone out, and I don’t want to do that).   I often hide my true opinions and say things I don’t actually believe; I try to never, ever admit to any critical or judgmental or negative opinions of anyone.   

I have to ask your something: are you enjoying being this way? Frankly, being so neurotically obsessed with making everyone like you all the time and offending no one (in essence, repressing all your opinions and personality quirks, and everything that makes you uniquely YOU in a conversation)… sounds like hell. Also, have people TOLD YOU they won’t like you if you vent or complain? Because… most people vent and complain. It’s how people deal with their anger and frustration. Do your friends do the same for you, in that they tiptoe around you and your views (the few they know about ;) and never complain to you and never vent to you or use you as a sounding board? What is the quality of a relationship that is so conflict-avoiding? It’s… superficial, because it’s a lie.

True friends know you’re not perfect and need to vent. True friends will allow you to hold opinions separate from theirs without being offended or writing you off for it. True friends will be there for you when you need them and expect you to do the same. True friends want you to be yourself around them, and not feel like you have to watch everything you say all weekend long just to avoid tripping an invisible wire somewhere that will cause everyone to run away from you.

Do you want to live this way for the rest of your life? Or at some point is it going to be too much to handle and cause an epic implosion of Self? Truth is, some people aren’t going to like you or your opinions. Others will. The only way to find out is to … say what you think. Talk about what’s hard in your life. And find out who is a “I don’t want to share any of your bad times with you” friend (superficial) and the “hold my beer, bystander, I’m going to bat for my friend” friend.

To be honest, your opening paragraph sounds more 9 than 6. Certainly, both of them together. 9s are pathologically afraid of separation and so repress themselves severely to avoid offending people or giving them a reason to walk away from them. 6s are more critical, inclined to complain, and quarrelsome, since there’s such a strong push and pull with authority.

The only time I’m willing to risk making people dislike me is if there is a truth that I think other people need to hear.   Though really, I often wonder if even that is worth it; it’s clear civilization is going to collapse in a few years and there’s little chance that can be averted, so…maybe it’s best to keep quiet.   We’re all pawns of history, anyway.    (That may be Ni-Ti loop, speaking, but…)

Well, I’m glad you’re willing to do that much. :)

Although��� you know that your fears and apprehensions about the future are not always accurate, yes? That what you foresee may not come to pass? It may be time to check your anxiety at the gate and consider a perspective that you have never thought about before – namely that 2020 is no worse off than many other time periods through history. The world has had good times and times of anarchy and massive upheaval. Civilization has survived much worse than the pandemic or riots, and having an apathetic “oh well, I shall just lie down in the middle of the road and let a truck run over me, because the world’s ending anyways” attitude will do you no good. Instead of negatively obsessing on a worst-case scenario, visualize what you want for your life, what you intend to do in the short term to get there, and imagine what could happen that might be positive. It’ll help you out of this depressive slump.

My point is: I may have a Two fix after all, I just don’t want to admit it, because I know that people who want approval too much are annoying, and I don’t want to be annoying, but the truth is, I DO want approval, so much…

I know that I loop out of Fe a lot, and that’s a problem.

Is it? Because … that was a hell of a lot of Fe you just admitted to. ;) You are willing to repress yourself, be inauthentic, say things you don’t fully feel, and desperately want attention and approval, all of which is “young Fe.” I want you to consider maturing your Fe. How do you do that? Start thinking beyond not wanting to offend people, to what is best for humanity. For the people in your life. What things do they need to hear, that only you can tell them with your Ni insights into their character? What things would improve their quality of life? What dangers can you warn them against? How can you help people who do not want to reach a consensus to understand each other and work together? How can you motivate people through emotional persuasion to do good things for a brighter future in your family, your community, on a larger sphere? Sometimes you need to offend a few people to make a difference for the positive.

In my better moments, I have this profound sense of all of us in the same boat, and that is good.  It’s too easy to just see that the boat is heading over a waterfall and know that it’s too late to change course so nothing matters.   But it does matter, of course, even if all we can do is comfort each other.  Thank you, again, for your help.  You have given me so much insight.   Thank you so much. 

Dump the pessimistic “we’re at the end of all things” attitude off the boat, Frodo. Humanity WILL survive whatever happens next. Question is, what role are you going to play in it -- that of a passive  bystander or an influence for good?

Right now this world needs peacemakers. Is that something you can do?

[adventure-hearts]

I was asked about this topic recently, and, being bored out of my mind, I felt inspired to use it as a starting point for a new series! I hope to share my current headcanons about the personality types of the Digimon Adventure universe’s main characters, according to different personality systems: astrology, Enneagram, MBTI... feel free to suggest any other typologies you’d like me to explore in the future.

In this first post, I’ll try to explain which of the Sun Sign personality archetypes I find more likely and interesting for each character. Consider this this an update of my previous headcanons, post-tri. (and post LAST EVOLUTION Kizuna).

1: DIGIMON ADVENTURE + ZODIAC SIGNS

Taichi - Aries

Yamato - Aries

Sora - Pisces [semi-canon]

Koushirou - Aquarius

Mimi - Leo

Jou - Virgo 

Takeru - Libra

Hikari - Pisces

Daisuke - Sagittarius

Miyako - Gemini [canon]

Iori - Capricorn

Ken - Cancer

Meiko Mochizuki - Virgo/Libra

Maki Himekawa - Scorpio

Daigo Nishijima - Leo

Note: Every single headcanon is highly subjective and even I will probably change my mind about it. This is only a PROPOSAL.

If you’re interested in my interpretation and methodology, read on!

Canon Clues 

Although there are no official birthdays for the characters, several Adventure materials have provided “goalposts” where we can fit some characters’ birthdays. I strive to make my HCs as canon-compliant as possible, so it’s important for me to take this info into account.

Miyako is stated to be a Gemini in 02.

The official synopsis of tri. Indicates that Taichi is 17 years old during the series, suggesting the has an April-June birthday.

Sure, you’re free to ignore this little nugget if you prefer, but I personally like to think there’s a reason they mentioned Taichi’s age explicitly — something they never did before. They also never mentioned the explicit age of any of the other characters.

Funnily enough, the DALEK official website and novel lists the character’s ages during the events of the film. Since the film takes place in the summer of 2010, taking those numbers at face-value would require us to believe all 8 characters have birthdays in the first half of the year. 

This contradicts the explicit on-screen information about Jou’s age in the original series (see below). 

I’m proposing this should be interpreted as their “average” ages, rather than precise ages at this specific moment in time — after all, in Kizuna it’s more difficult to identify the characters by their school year, like they always did before.

Sora’s birthday is canonically before the events of Our War Game. The film takes place during the spring holidays, which typically begin around the third week of March.

Sora having a March birthday is so universally accepted by Japanese fans that it’s even on her Wikipedia page. I wouldn’t be surprised if more recent writers took that information into account, post-OWG, and portrayed her accordingly. 

Notice that Pisces is only the more likely option considering the canon timeline and Sora’s personality — Aries (late March) and Aquarius (mid-February) could fit as well. Hence why I consider this choice [semi-canon].

Jou, who is a 6th-grader, mentions he’s 11 years old during Adventure. This suggest his birthday would be after August 1.

Ken is supposed to be 9 years old in August 2000, when he’s in Year 3, suggesting he has an April-August birthday.

This is different from other guidebooks which only list the characters “average” ages, because this lists Ken’s precise age during a specific event.

I believe Ken being exactly 9 years old went to the Digital world is deliberate, since Osamu is stated to be 3 years older than Ken, hadn’t yet turned 12 when he died.

Again, except for Miyako, Sora, and Jou birthdays, I can understand why fans chose to ignore any of this.

Personal Notes

My method isn’t about finding a putative “Official / True Birthday” — that never existed, at least for the Adventure eight. It’s about finding birthdays that work within the limitations of canon (see previous section). 

My HCs are based on the personality / character archetypes represented by the the zodiac signs. In theory, any Chosen Child could be understood as representing a specific symbolical archetypes.

The problem is that the Adventure characters are quite complex and often deconstruct traditional archetypes. This explains why it’s so hard for fans to agree on which sign they are supposed to represent. I should also note that anime series seem to understand astrological archetypes slightly differently from the Western mainstream tradition, which explains why typical anime zodiac signs sometimes feel a bit “off”. 

Nevertheless, some archetypes are so strong that most of the fandom seems to have reached a consensus: Jou/Virgo and Koushirou/Aquarius, for example. Then you have textbook examples of archetypes like Gemini/Miyako (unsurprisingly canon), Taichi/Aries, and Hikari/Pisces. But even there is a lot of room for disagreement and subjective interpretation!

*

The 02 writers clearly intended Daisuke to symbolise Fire, Miyako Air, Iori Earth and, due to the Dark Ocean connection, Ken Water. In fact, it’s super easy to place those four characters into any traditional 4-group personality types, such as the four temperaments, Jung’s types, blood types, ABCD personality, etc. 

My HCs respect this, and ended up creating two polar opposites within the team: Daisuke/Miyako (mutable) and Ken/Iori (cardinal).  

*

It’s tempting to ascribe 12 main characters = 12 signs, but post-tri. I’m inclined to do something different and not put myself into such a limiting framework.

For this reason I repeat some signs, and I don’t have any Taurus character (sorry!).

*

My MAIN innovative choice is that I suspect Taichi and Yamato might represent the same sun sign.

Now, I understand this is an extremely controversial opinion. It isn’t a possibility I thought about until quite recently.

But Taichi and Yamato being “different but the same / two sides of the same coin” is incredibly well represented if both of them correspond to the Aries personality archetype. 

After all, they’re the leaders, the heroes, the Knights in shining armor. This explains their incredible similarities, despite superficial differences. as well as their love-hate dynamic: the rivalry, the union, the way they complement and balance each other out in an almost instinctive way.

Here are some examples of the Aries/Aries dynamic from the literature... 

Both of you are independent individuals and you don’t like feeling “owned” by anyone. Neither of you can tolerate being dominated or bossed by anyone else, so you probably make your own decisions, and direct your own lives. You respect one another’s autonomy, and a relationship that is based on constant togetherness and dependency wouldn’t suit either of you. Sometimes, however, there is too much emphasis on individualism rather than on being close and nurturing the relationship. You both have proud egos, and are sensitive to criticism. Almost inevitably you will compete with each other, and in small doses this can be invigorating. But it easily becomes nasty, and one of you is likely to get hurt. If you’ve ever seen two rams locking horns, you know what I mean! You either respect one another immensely or detest one another – rarely anything in between. (X)

If your relationship has been built on the basis that you are equals, the fire element produces tremendous vision and industriousness. Your combined power and effort could well be a force to be reckoned with — but again, only if you both learn to subdue your own ego in the service of each other. Remember, you can’t always be right. You need to try hard to see things from each other’s perspective; this will help the two of you become a great partnership over time. (x)

When Mars clashes with Mars, the result can be full-scale war, with all flags flapping, bravely and colorfully. Occasional flare-ups are bound to occur when these two are thrown into close, daily proximity, without the relief of some separateness in their association. But there will also be some glorious Highs to offset these Lows. (...)  It's been said that Aries people have a way about them. They do. Their own way. Yet, despite that sometimes antagonistic Martian exterior, they'll sense each other's desperate need to be appreciated and liked. When they get together, they may struggle for leadership, but the experience will supply some well-needed lessons. The shock of living with someone - or being around some- one - as innocently thoughtless, selfish and aggressive as one's self, is sure to soften any battering Ram, although there may be a few scars to show for the les- sons in living thus mastered. Aries hearts always carry more scars than the Rams ever show, or openly discuss. (x)

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? The more you read, the more this pattern begins to make sense. Try to watch the Dark Masters arc, the Agumon-is-kidnapped mini arc, tri., and even Kizuna with this possibility in mind, and you’ll understand what I mean.

Sure, order to accept this theory, you have to understand Yamato as a more atypical reserved / sensitive Aries (influenced by a Cancer Moon, perhaps?) and Taichi as a more “pure” Arien type. Yamato is more like a baby lamb, right? (don’t tell it to his face).

You can make a very strong argument for Leo!Taichi (that was my initial HC as well) or Yamato as almost anything else. I wouldn’t disagree. But why not come up with a fresh perspective to explain these two? 

Oh, and in case you’re curious, their (canon) Japanese Zodiac is also the same: Dragon, the direct equivalent to Aries. 

*

A note about tri.: typing Maki and Daigo seemed straightforward enough. Maki is the stereotypical Scorpio antagonist, and Goggle Boy Daigo’s partner evolved into a literal lion.

I couldn’t resist the idea of making Meiko a Libra, considering her digimon partner is literally the Libra and Meiko is the 9th member of the group. But  personality probably fits other signs better — it’s very tempting to type her a Virgo, the polar opposite of Hikari. She could also be the missing Taurus element (Mei as the literal May Queen). 

The truth is... I can’t decide!

*

Disclaimer: There is zero scientific evidence for astrology and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s only interesting as a tool to analyze fictional characters in symbolic /archetypal terms. My headcanons are based on extensive reading about astrology, its symbolism and psychological profiles; I’m happy to share my sources (they’re not from pop astrology). But I’m also aware of the Barnum effect. We are all biased; there are no right or wrong options. Everyone’s conflicting headcanons are equally valid.

Feel free to ask questions or request more in-depth explanations for my suggestions, but FFS don’t start arguing with me and insisting I’m “wrong” based on other people’s equally subjective and disputable headcanons.

*

BONUS: Sun sign Archetypes / Personality Keywords

Aries

Aries at its best : Brave, assertive, pioneering, quick, determined

Aries on a bad day: Aggressive, hard-headed, selfish, impulsive, impatient, brutal

The Aries archetype : Prince Lancelot, the brave and romantic rock star of King Arthur’s court

The Aries stereotype : The rage-a-holic in the pickup truck who just gave you the finger after cutting you off on the freeway

Gemini

Gemini at its best : Curious, inquisitive, quick witted, communicative, inventive, clever, adaptable

Gemini on a bad day : Verbally cruel, deceptive, disloyal, restless, doesn’t follow through”

“The Gemini archetype : The jester; clever and mischievous, your wit and agility are your best defense

The Gemini stereotype : The meddlesome neighbor, snooping and eavesdropping

Cancer

Cancer at its best : Family-oriented, nurturing, intuitive, domestic, maternal, sensitive, sympathetic, emotional, patriotic, retentive, traditional

Cancer on a bad day : Moody, touchy, oversensitive, negative, manipulative, overly cautious

The Cancer archetype : The universal mother

The Cancer stereotype : The smothering mother

Leo

Leo at its best : Regal, creative, magnetic, performer, generous, inspiring

Leo on a bad day : Vain, domineering, attention seeking, insecure”

The Leo archetype : The benevolent monarch

The Leo stereotype : The shallow playboy or party girl

Virgo

Virgo at its best : Discriminating, thorough, scientific, clean, humane, scientific, analytical

Virgo on a bad day : Picky, critical, petty, self-centered, hypochondriac, gloomy, pedantic

The Virgo archetype : Sherlock Holmes, with his staggering powers of perception and analysis and his earthy tweed jacket

The Virgo stereotype : The quiet, slightly geeky scientist or secretary with horn-rimmed glasses and a repressed manner

Libra

Libra at its best : Refined, artistic, diplomatic, sociable, peace loving, persuasive, just

Libra on a bad day : Fickle, over accommodating, argumentative, indecisive, insincere

The Libra archetype : The diplomat

The Libra stereotype : The gigolo or “kept” man or woman”

Scorpio

Scorpio at its best : Determined, probing, brave, passionate, insightful, empathetic, penetrating, investigative, powerful

Scorpio on a bad day : Jealous, suspicious, sarcastic, secretive, vengeful, manipulative

The Scorpio archetype : The magician, able to transcend the laws of nature to achieve transformation

The Scorpio stereotype : A secret agent, skilled at investigative work and most comfortable working behind the scenes”

Sagittarius

Sagittarius at its best : Philosophical, adventurous, freedom loving, scholarly, funny, honest, athletic, traveler

Sagittarius on a bad day : Crude, blunt, know-it-all, arrogant, superior, intolerant

The Sagittarius archetype : The wayfaring stranger who transforms a community with his knowledge and wisdom before moving on

The Sagittarius stereotype : The clown who trips over his gigantic shoes and throws pies in your face

Capricorn

Capricorn at its best : Responsible, authoritative, traditional, pragmatic, hardworking, economical, serious, mature, ethical

Capricorn on a bad day : Domineering, stubborn, inhibited, unfeeling, fatalistic, judgmental, unforgiving”

“The Capricorn archetype : The wise elder

The Capricorn stereotype : A cranky old man or woman who keeps yelling at kids to “stay off my lawn!”

Aquarius

Aquarius at its best : Independent, genius, iconoclastic, rebellious, logical, scientific, progressive, intellectual, humane

Aquarius on a bad day : Eccentric, temperamental, unpredictable, cold, opinionated, radical”

“The Aquarius archetype : The charismatic rebel who wins over his fellow men by thumbing his nose at authority

The Aquarius stereotype : The mad scientist

Pisces

Pisces at its best : Sympathetic, compassionate, emotional, intuitive, musical, artistic

Pisces on a bad day : Impractical, timid, procrastinator”

The Pisces archetype : The mystic

The Pisces stereotype : The flake

from Kent, April Elliott. “The Essential Guide to Practical Astrology: Everything from zodiac signs to prediction, made easy and entertaining”.

[krayfishthetypelessblob]

I saw someone else do this so I hope it's okay to ask: what do you think of each MBTI type?

This is fine, I am always open to questions (technical or not), my responses are just occasionally a lot slower than I’d like.  Uhh no one take my responses too personally, is is going to be very subjective?

ISTJ: Unpopular opinion, but have my favorite sense of humor.  I’d prefer this type over my own, dunno why I decided to skew towards high Fe. Highly sarcastic, often 10x less organized and put together than they seem or stereotypes make them out to be.  Seem to vary between being very judgmental and almost emo in their staunch conviction to their values or seem to not give 2 shits about anything....  I know a lot of 9 core ISTJs.  Should be given the cooking stereotype that ISFJ has, lots of very angry bakers in this category.

INTJs: I’ve only met/confirmed them through the internet.  Again, same morbid/dry sense of humor as the above, fantastic to conversate with.  Similarly to ISTJ, not half as calculating as they’re made out to be.  Tend to be very outwardly disagreeable but with the capacity for being sympathetic and reasonable.  Seem to rate themselves as very logical, but more moved by their values and feelings than they expect.  

ESTJs:  Tend to avoid me and I tend to avoid them purely because we both seem to respect that we’d probably never agree on anything and we think very differently.  Very likable function stack in theory.  Inferior Fi is stil a lot edgier than you’d expect it to be and also incredibly stubborn.  This is my brothers type, if paired with cp6 and 7 have no patience for anyone’s opinions but their own nor anyone trying to control them by any means.  Only rule oriented when they agree with the rules.  Tend to have a streak of paranoia.  I value them in work settings because even though they sometimes get really stubborn are often reasonable people.

ENTJ: My only conception of this type is my great grandma, who is both an 8w9 and soc blind to add on to this type, and an close old friend of mine, who was 8w7 so/sp core.  Tert Se is quite a drug I’ll tell you.  I suppose they’re likely more reasonable without the 8?  Force of nature, hella interesting, fairly self righteous though.  Stubborn as an ox.

ISTP: The embodiment of cool.  Every one of the ISTPs I’ve met has been a walking stereotype.  Machines?  Check.  Sk8bords? If not, they vibe like the punk who would ride one.  Generally likable and even keeled, high Se makes up for lackluster Fe in my opinion.   I envy their ability to work in the real world, often highly creative too in their endevours. 

INTP: Tend to be drastic introverts, but very interesting to talk to.  Tend to be fairly self righteous, but realistically they have some leway with that because they typically know what they’re talking about?  Really cute when they are talking about things that they’re interested in because you can just tell that they’re really interested and they loose themselves in that despite their apathy.

ESTP: Generally, I initially really hate this type among first meeting them because I really grate with Se.  After speaking to them for more than like a week though, I typically feel a strong draw to them.  Se is such a weird function and very counter to everything that I’ve worked with, incredibly interesting to speak with about how they experience the world.  Their mind is just as quick as they are at adapting and working on their feet.  My closer friends have been of this type.

ENTP: Another one who is really cute when they talk about their interests, often a massive dork.  Tend to give more of a shit about people than they think they do, though they struggle to accept this aspect of themselves I guess.  Often think they’re the of pinickle of knowledge but struggle to understand the difference between a value judgement and their own logic sometimes.  Engaging conversator, loves sharing their opinions, another quick thinker. Intelligent dumbass is a really good description.

ISFJ: Give or take.  Either the nicest person you’d ever meet or a skilled manipulator.  Often very competent, often just as passive.  

INFJ: I actually know very few of these types, and most of them have a 7 fix or influence.  It’s just really weird because they are thrill seeking but slow af.  Either a 7 page paragraph for every thought or like... They won’t explain anything because they “just know” and the latter annoys me a lot.  Don’t like to admit they’re wrong, but great/interesting to conversate with in general.

ESFJ: Another give or take.  Have a strange capacity to be the most horrifying person you’ll ever meet.  Another case of self-righteous syndrome sometimes.  There are actually some reasonable members of this type though that I find really likeable because of their enthusiasm and their empathy (when they genuinely have it and aren’t just saying they’re an empath).  My mother is this and I get along with her as well, she’s fairly logical though/understands where her emotions end and are open to others feeling differently.  

ENFJ: I actually don’t usually get along with this type unless they have a 2 fix, and more often it’s a 3 fix.  I’m not sure why, I just find them annoying?  I had a friend who was this type and he was really cool and likable (2w3 so/sp core), deep and ethical thinking, bit of a sjw but I could get past that.  3 core ENFJ is the worst combination for type (purely in terms of my ability to tolerate them), I’m sorry if this applies to you.  Nontheless, I enjoy high Fe enthusiasm in general.

ISFP: Chill, genuiine, and artsy, often either very creative or very... Ditsy.  Often incredibly loyal and a big fan of the underdog and more than willing to accommodate them.  Very inclined to be a 9 core.  Rock music fans.  Generally very easy to like, but can also be very self absorbed and touchy.  Their world view is very much based on how they feel about things, but that’s just Fi in general I guess.  Very easy to manipulate.

INFP: The above is basically true for INFP, except INFPs are less chill.  They tend to think they’re chill, but they’re often not (with a few exceptions).  Another deep conversator that I enjoy at 1 am in particular.

ESFP: I’ve made one good friend with this type and I’d think we are almost complete opposites.  I have the same sort of issue with them I have with ESTP, Se just grates me.  Tend to project a lot, but are often really well meaning and creative.  Really enjoy philosophy, also tend to have a cute kind of enthusiasm when they let it show.  Either emo and adventurous or loud and comedic, I find very little in between

ENFP: Another very intelligent dumbass in the sense that they can explain a theory to you flawlessly then accidentally walk off a cliff.  Sometimes think they’re the pinikle of logic, but conflate knowing a lot with being logical.  Can be an interesting conversator, but can also be drastically self absorbed and self righteous, primarily if they’re 3 fixed.   Fairly interesting to interact with, often fairly neat takes on things.  Members of this type who aren’t my father are often very likable.  

[gascon-en-exil]

I'm genuinely curious about your "Black Eagles most to least favourite" list.

Here you are.

#1: Hubert

Could there be any other? I remember back when there was a promo introducing the house retainers (well, Lorenz for the Deer) and everyone was saying that Hubert looked so obviously evil that there had to be some deeper explanation, that someone who took design cues from a two-dimensional villain like Fates’s Iago couldn’t possibly be Edelgard’s retainer. Then the game came out, and we all realized that Hubert was exactly as advertised and then some: a cold and calculating murderer and war criminal with his fingerprints all over almost every terrible thing that happens over the course of the story, as comfortable with chloroform and a razor as dark magic and down to perform unspeakable experiments on innocent civilians to turn them into war machines and then backstab his co-conspirators because he will suffer no rivals for his title of the Most Evil Man in Fòdlan. And yep, he looks like Dracula and Severus Snape had a one-night stand and their mpreg love child went to an anime convention...but when Ferdinand looks at Hubert he sees Mr. Darcy and the Phantom of the Opera and Edward Cullen/Christian Grey, and soon enough that snake in Hubert’s breeches will be singing quite the aria indeed. You do you, Ferdinand.

Ok, I’ve already rambled at length on Hubert’s bisexuality and the interesting things it reveals about both him and his two primary love interests, but I do also have to admire the sheer audacity both of Hubert as an incel/Nice Guy-flavored romantic false lead for Edelgard who never had a serious chance because of the self-insert fantasy and of the decision to follow that up with a trope-laden queer romance that perfectly counterbalances Hubert’s attraction to Edelgard and puts Ferdinand firmly in the place he was destined to occupy by choosing to side with the Empire. It’s nearly as outrageous as just how casually evil Hubert gets to be, as well as the immense potential for dark humor that lies with that. You have to bend over backwards to say that Hubert isn’t unapologetically, irredeemably evil, and if you try there will be significantly more fans just waiting to tell you that you’re wrong - myself included. He’s the Manfroy to Edelgard’s Arvis but so much than that, and I look forward to the point in the CF postgame where he effectively takes over the Empire in true evil chancellor fashion and unleashes the full extent of his horrors upon Fòdlan. He somehow got even better in the DLC too despite being absent from CS and getting no new supports, because the Abyssians in CF just can’t stop talking about his nefarious antics down there. I just can’t get enough of how good this guy is at being bad, and I love that FE gave us exactly what was advertised here.

#2: Ferdinand

Now here’s a case of the opposite, where what’s on the packaging didn’t prepare me for what was to come. If I remarked on Ferdinand at all during pre-release it was only to think that he might be part of a Christmas knight duo with Sylvain since the game looked like it wouldn’t have one of those. Early on there wasn’t much else to be said about Ferdinand; he was like Claude in that his popularity ran off a meme (except just the one rather than several), and in appearance and personality he was basically Lorenz with less ridiculous hair. But then came his supports, and his post-timeskip look, and suddenly Ferdinand blossomed into the subtext-laden fem with very bizarre taste in men - see above - that he could have only dreamed of being if he’d stuck to such well-trod ground as the Christmas knight archetype. We learn of his love for opera, his complicated relationship with his father, his worship of the hot mess diva Manuela and how he learned swordplay specifically to imitate her roles on the stage, and - yes - how some backhanded compliments and expensive gifts of tea turn him into a blushing Regency heroine. It all casts his unusually rote romances with women in a performative light (as opposed to Lorenz who is similarly performative but seems genuinely interested in the marriage market), to say nothing of his one-sided rivalry with Edelgard that brushes against jealousy over Hubert’s devotion to her more often than against romantic attraction to her, and that toys around with gendered behavior in a manner complementary to Edelgard’s own bucking of the gender status quo.

And while not to the same extent as Felix, I do appreciate that Ferdinand has two distinct arcs depending on the route - and unlike some who feel that one or the other detracts from his character as a whole I personally find that they complement each other well. In SS and if recruited to AM and VW he makes the hard choice to oppose his homeland, spending the timeskip waging a solitary battle against the Empire with his private militia and then joining back up with Byleth’s army at Garreg Mach because he knows Edelgard is in the wrong even as it pains him to depose the Adrestian emperor and leave his own status uncertain...not to mention fight Hubert, which merits a curious boss conversation as well as some extra lines in SS (plus the infamous Huge Hole™ remark that I will never stop referencing because it is hilarious) that, while not elevating Ferdibert anywhere near the level of Dimidue in terms of cross-route canon endorsement, nonetheless are suggestive of something deeper between them that exists even if they find themselves on opposite sides of a war. In CF by contrast Ferdinand gives into his craving for the title and holdings that Edelgard has just stripped from his father and embraces nationalism and his long-held ideal of what the office of the prime minister should to do as a means of justifying the Empire’s conquests. Of course in the process he also succumbs to Hubert’s, er, charms(?) and becomes the charismatic bureaucrat who is presumably saddled with the task of putting a positive spin on the Empire’s dystopian atrocities while Edelgard and Hubert do all the actual work...and Hubert does all the actual actual work, which includes a lot of murder and kidnapping and all manner of other things that he doesn’t share with his pretty lover and about which Ferdinand quickly learns not to ask. Two Jewels of the Empire, indeed.

#3-4: Edelgard and Dorothea

I go back and forth on these so I’m not going to bother putting them in a definitive order, particularly because I like them for very different reasons that are difficult to compare. For Edelgard, it would be most accurate to say that I enjoy her potential much more than her execution; she gets some meaty material to work with as a lord and as the driving antagonist of the whole game outside of CF, and while I still prefer Micaiah for female lords there’s something darkly satisfying about her need for control and domination and her utter refusal to compromise or remain stagnant...except where Byleth is concerned, and Edeleth drags her down so badly that it would be painful if I cared more about that type of strong female character. Had the game axed the self-insert obsession (even if that meant axing her bisexuality along with it) and focused on her experiences during the Insurrection as the source of her worldview and motivations I’d be inclined to like the final product far more, because that’s a hell of a lot more in line with what she actually does and conveniently also maps to the life of a real world ruler with whom I’m relatively familiar and whom history regards in appropriately ambivalent terms.

Dorothea on the other hand is someone I can relate to on a more personal level, mostly as a sex worker. She’s similar to Primrose from Octopath Traveler, both of them prostitutes and playing coy with the implications of the RPG dancer class archetype, although Primrose hits a few more of my buttons for being former nobility and being motivated by revenge. Then again, I fully understand Dorothea’s anxieties about growing old without a man to take care of her, even if she loses me (and Yuri picks up from where she leaves off) when she dips into lesbianism as an alternative option. She’s got her ups and downs for me - I love that she brings up incest kink with Caspar as opposed to this series’s usual outright incest, while I love less her strange Ferdinand supports that are suspended oddly between friendship and romance and...something else undefinable - and I don’t have much to say on her life as an opera diva except that it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’s been turning tricks on the side and even got a sugar daddy to pay her way into the academy. Theatre and sex work have always gone hand-in-hand like that.

#5-7: Linhardt, Caspar, and Petra

This is why I couldn’t make up a list like this for the Lions or Deer, because most of their students would be in big clumps like this. I have no strong opinions on any of these characters; they each have their moments, but not enough to elevate them to where I actively like them or drop them down into real dislike. I suppose you could say I’m disappointed by how Caspar and Linhardt are visual allusions to Ike/Soren who do absolutely nothing else with that similarity except eloping in their paired ending...which is preceded by virtually nothing in the way of real chemistry. If I enjoy them for anything in particular it’s Linhardt’s wit and Caspar’s occasional bouts of emotional vulnerability, like his mini-arc in AM where he has to deal with his feelings surrounding Randolph’s death and then later gets an apology from Dimitri for it.

Petra is awkward all around as the game dances around her delicate political situation, and I also happen to agree with the VA who (if I recall) thought the character should have some sort of accent but wasn’t allowed to do one. (If anyone is wondering, based on her last name and Brigid being an island nation I headcanon it as a Celtic-derived culture, but as with my personal reading of Dedue and Duscur I know that doesn’t play well to the fandom at large).  All in all Petra feels like a more self-aware rendition of the exotic swordswoman archetype begun by Ayra in Jugdral, but there’s clearly still some work to be done on that front.

#8: Bernadetta

Ugh. With apologies to @capriciouscorvid for explaining how even unintentional disability representation can be taken as a positive, I just don’t see how Bernadetta’s character could possibly be considered a good thing when she’s so grating in almost all of her supports and most of her story and exploration presence outside of CF. All the screaming and high-pitched pronouncements of impending death get very old very quickly, and the part where she’s meant to be romantically appealing in her neediness and isolation is as lost on me as it would have been had it stemmed instead from a massive rack. Her supposedly sympathetic backstory doesn’t help much either, as it leaves me mostly with the thought that her father is an idiot because his methods obviously did not make her suitable to be a good wife. I also don’t care for how she’s one of several characters used to soften Jeritza (and that the way she does so is I think rather insulting to people with social anxiety, to liken it to a compulsion to commit murder), or even worse that people point to her Hubert support to try and say that he’s not such a bad guy and they’d be total besties just like Ferdinand and Dorothea (another pairing that doesn’t exactly scream BFFs). I mean, really....

[hyeri-yah]

No way!!! International studies is so so cool! Could I ask you to just ramble about your favorite parts of it/about it? I've been considering it myself and haven't met anyone taking it on here! 😁 Also, what are you doing with it/hope to do! Hope you're having a great start to the week! 💕

this actually made me giggle!! let’s see...hmmm...International Relations isn’t really a popular major, but I do assure you it’s incredibly interesting!! I’m sure there are differences in the course material since I’m living in the Philippines, and it would be different anywhere else in the world (esp in regards to subjs relating to your country and its foreign policies). But I’ll list things I really love about this degree!! I’m gonna put a read more bc it’s kinda long lmaoooo

HISTORY!! POLITICS!! CULTURE!! OBSCURE GEOPOLITICAL THEORIES NO ONE REALLY HAS HEARD ABOUT EXCEPT FOR PROBABLY GERRYMANDERING!!

i’ll just say it, im a history nerd. I like reading world history and knowing how things happened and why. I think it’s pretty cool. I like reading about politics, how things just connect after you’ve realized the bigger picture. Culture is nice too, and it’s actually one of the best parts of this major!! Also you get to learn at least one language!!!

 And then here comes the theories. There are a lot of them and they can come in all shapes, sizes and forms, and most of the time, they’re kind of too “out-there” to actually make sense. But when you could finally understand what the authors are trying to say (bc political book authors are sometimes not the best writers... fck u Heywood...), it’s such a rewarding epiphany.

The thing about this course is that, you shouldn’t take it if you’re not interested in these kinds of things because it could get reallyyyyyy boring. While I do love the topic, i have to admit I might’ve slept in class a few times.

MEETING LIKE-MINDED PEOPLE!!

This is the course that I actually met Leanne, who is one of my most trusted and closest friend ever. We just clicked, especially with our opinion on things and our love for History and Politics!!! We actually share our thoughts a lot of times, and we often stay talking for so many hours bc we just have a lot of things to share lmaoooo She’s really interested about Israel and the Middle East, while I have a lot of thoughts on East Asia. 

It depends on your batch tho. Our classmates on the other hand seemed like they wanted to be somewhere else. They’re not particularly interested in the subject, and was just working hard for the grades. It’s understandable but a bit disappointing that only Leanne, Me, and another guy who’s pretty much proclaimed himself as a communist are the only ones who seemed to be enjoying. 

MORE POLITICSSSSSSS

I really like how this course had widened my perspective on things, especially with how society has become more politically active. I used to be so vocal about my opinions, but after graduating, I just realized I often only know one side of things, and I shouldn’t really be too hasty/harsh with my words or even share them at all, when I don’t really know anything. 

Contrary to popular belief, it’s up to you if you wanna go to the route of political activism, and you will definitely encounter it at university. I myself can’t handle it bc it affects my mental health so badly, I’d rather not do something triggering. 

But!!! But!! But!! THIS COURSE ACTUALLY HELPED ME A LOT WITH WORLDBUILDING IN MY STORIES!! Since I’ve been learning a lot about countries/nations and how they work and why they do the things they do, I can use the same theories to make my own worlds more realistic in a sense. 

I usually follow something like a Dialectic Materialism triangle (i heard it was by Marx but not sure!!! i dont wanna google at 2AM anymore) which explains that society’s decisions/inclinations/preferences are determined by its economics. It makes sense in a diagram hahahha I use it to make sense of why people in my stories think they way they do!! 

Even if you were asking me about what I love about this, I’m not sure I can say anything without telling you the bad sides of it. Like I said, if topics like Politics, History, Economics, Theories, etc. doesn’t interest you, you really shouldn’t take this course. The same thing happened to our classmates. It’ll be like living hell. Because it’s not an easy major, even I hate it sometimes. You always have to read and read and read!! The course doesn’t stop at the material/book given. You gotta hit the library and find books about certain topics and follow the daily national and international news. It’s still a habit of mine I’ve brought to this day!!

The professors are shrewd, strict and downright mean (in our case), which I dont blame them for. The Diplomatic corps is a freakin hellhole if you’re not prepared to take in all the stress of constant work, anxiety of not making up to the standard (which is pretty high), and the whole dynamic and ever-changing nature of the tasks, you’re gonna go crazy. And I mean it not in the metaphorical sense. I was intern at our foreign ministry and I’ve heard stories. 

But, that’s only if you plan on joining the Diplomatic corps lmaoooooo the major is such a worthwhile thing to take! It widens your perspective, and makes you more open to different political opinions ( i mean, you get to understand why people believe the things they do, because it is determined by a lot of factors), and it’s super helpful in my writing!!!

Finallyyyy,,,this major taught me something I always abide to now: “Cool head, Warm Hearts”

I think I’ll end it here!!!! If you have any more questions, feel free to hit me up again!!! Thanks for asking this hahahahha I really enjoyed going down memory lane ksksksks 

[level247-table-tech]

like, i recognize to a lot of people the formality reads as generalized ‘early episode weirdness’, and i won’t pretend to think it was all intentional, but looking back it reads as progression. even knowing that things they share, or that we learn about them in general as they open up, are directed to the audience- made clear even by the camera angle - they are talking to each other in-universe, and i get the sense that they are learning about each other as characters too.

important note toward that point: they know what everyone else does, due to their functions, as well as knowing enough about each other’s specific inputs on various matters to clash about them. but as characters, i would argue they are unfamiliar to each other; they aren’t on a first-name basis and there’s little evidence of them interacting offscreen aside from said clashes. by getting to know each other by character, rather than just by function, they are more able to work together, come into agreement, and work toward a happier, more completely fulfilled thomas.  as a couple extra notes, them being characters is what nondiegetically allows them to speak at all, therefore indirectly what allows them to come to conclusions together.  there’s a neat symmetry in the concept that knowing each other’s characters is what allows them to work through things together more efficiently in-universe also.  a more fulfilled thomas seems like the natural result of his sides being happier, given that they are his aspects, and that’s what all of them are working toward. them knowing and being decent to one another seems conducive to that. self-love, and all, but more on that later.

everyone seems less likely to show up, in earlier episodes, unless their function is pertinent[or they are called upon]. this is where we find one- or two-character installments. less of a group discussion, more just a necessity. in particular i’d argue that any of their appearances to thomas pre-series were more akin to either the example arguments in mind vs. heart[not mvh itself; thomas called them for that talk] or one-on-one discussions in the mode of way too adult[talking about what these represent from a non-imaginary point of view could be interesting, but not on this post]: they show up when they have a stance on whatever’s at hand. this more minimal dynamic holds up in early episodes, and correlating to this theory, the change from that is due to advancement in-universe. though it is pointed out by anxiety in alone on valentine’s day that he can’t just sit things out if he doesn’t want to participate. most likely it’s just because he has feelings about the topic of discussion and does not care to go unheard, but it’s worth noting.

early appearances of all sides[in dilemmatic episodes, that is; generally only anxiety is antagonistic where there’s no particular argument] are more hostile, but early episodes also focus more on reconciling their various areas. again, we can exclude single-character focus episodes[princey is barely in taking on anxiety and he’s called up by thomas. it’s an anxiety episode], but there are more 2-sided arguments in the early episodes. the heart vs. the mind is a good example, with morality and logic talking through their previous arguments, and working toward compromise. that word’s gonna crop up again a lot. of course, one does get the impression that there’s little animosity related to past arguments! but that, i believe, can be chalked up to civility. that, and potentially regret is someone else’s domain, or thomas prefers not to dwell on it. in any case, they come to an understanding that if they work with each other rather than against each other, thomas can come to conclusions more than conflict, which are satisfactory to both parties, and which removes a stressor. the dark side of disney showcases a discussion between two sides who are less inclined to civility in ordinary clashes: princey takes his duty very personally, and anxiety is conflated with his negativity in a way that frames him as antagonistic to others and to thomas. yet this is a more casual discussion, less about conflicts or life events great or small, and more about interpretation. presumably this is just thomas pondering disney plots, on that level of thinking[listen there are three whole layers of reality in this show; i can’t just say diegetic or in-universe. the viewers are real, the sides are imaginary, and character thomas is having thoughts. i don’t know what to call it], and the results of this discussion won’t impact much other than tarnishing disney’s image. it’s just a disembodied ideal based on an external, unrelated body of work. anxiety proceeds to point out flaws in the ideal. many of which are valid points, and princey anticipates anxiety bringing up stockholm syndrome in the context of beauty and the beast, demonstrating that he already recognizes these flaws, and is just more accustomed to not focussing on the negative. different values of the critical. by the end of the episode, though, anxiety also admits that he appreciates disney movies despite their flaws. princey saw the flaws, but didn’t want to dismiss works outright for them; anxiety in truth shared this position but was unwilling to let the praise stand without a critical eye: a valid condition[pretending disney is flawless is setting a bad, bad precedent]. from then on more discussions ensue wherein more sides have opinions to bring to the table, presumably because it works and they have input, up to my negative thinking, wherein morality and princey are tabled, put offscreen. they provide excuses for their absence. already, there is enough precedent for all sides being present to these talks that absence calls for justification, at least in the opinion of thomas[not sure if anyone else was writing by that point? them too]. this is less one of those compromise episodes, and more an early appearance of how applying logic to problems is really effective, but it acknowledges anxiety’s opinions/feelings as being legitimate[in the sense that feeling that way is valid, not that he’s right], and addresses the cognitive distortions that lead to this kind of downward extrapolation. anxiety was wrong, but them working together brought thomas to a place where he had a more realistic projection of the effects of his actions. less relatedly logic admits to appreciating anxiety’s adherence to the formal debate format[for as much as he did so, at least], and says that while he frequently disagrees with anxiety, he isn’t as opposed to him as anxiety seemed to believe. this is a debate between a side with that civility i mentioned, and one without. but anxiety mostly does not express that civility due to that mentioned conflation of him with his negativity, which logic does not engage in as much here; logic points out failures in reasoning without edging in on personal attacks, dismissing anxiety’s arguments due to fallacies, and not because he attributes them simply to anxiety being a negative person[side? you know what i mean]. the result is fairly peaceable. now, keep in mind this talk about anxiety, we’ll focus more on him in a bit.

another angle of progression is in time they actually spend together[not during the course of an episode; i hesitate to just say ‘not counting times where thomas is present’ but you understand. time not occupied by dilemmas, maybe]. as mentioned, there’s little proof they’ve seen each other pre-series outside the occasional argument[also that dollar morality borrowed, but what even was that? it was also with princey, who he seems to have the most in common with], but as end-cards made appearances, we could see the sides spending time together. in an after-the-scenes sort of sense, to be sure, where it feels like they’re sticking around after filming because they somehow have to. at least, that’s the impression i get from the losing my motivation end-card; princey and anxiety probably would not want to spend time together at that point in time. i’ll chalk the ‘necessity’ of that up to the bizarre non-diegetic framing[like, in that scene he calls his agent. i have no idea what they were trying to imply]. at other times, though, it does read more as the sides generally hanging out, such as in mind vs. heart, where it reads more as them spending time together in an unofficial, personal sense[if only because logic has the presence of mind that during any official capacity in which they would spend time together he probably wouldn’t be so loose-tongued as to let that joke slip] and other goofier, more personal moments. it’s hard to place the dark side of disney’s endcard between these possibilities for that reason; they’re goofing around, and it’s not so implausible to believe that they’re sticking around out of preference. aside from end-cards, which take a bit of a turn at the end of the season and fall almost completely into the ‘personal’, ‘unofficial’ setting, there’s more evidence of them spending time together off-camera in later episodes, after the familial progress. offscreen things like anxiety mentioning morality paid him a dollar to make a pun, a flashback from princey of him seemingly in the midst of a casual conversation with at least one other side[the one where he alludes to not being a huge jelly guy], and a bit further back, princey and morality revealing that they’d worked together on the holiday sweaters. furthermore, as less of an offscreen moment and less of an unofficial setting but still worth bringing up: morality’s appearance in losing my motivation. he shows up in costume to match logic’s, to help solve a problem he has no particular stake in[that we and they know of yet]. this can be attributed to a couple factors: he wants to be helpful, and he wants to spend time with logic. potentially that second factor is linked to him already feeling they have bonded from the then-recent mind vs. heart; their shared love of onesie pajamas[and wordplay, much as logic will deny it] causes morality to feel closer to logic, and wanting to spend more quality time. he’s the most sentimental side; it makes sense that morality would be the first to feel more personally attached to the other sides. and even though the events of lmm are problem-solving in an official capacity[by their standards], it’s also said to be playing[dress-up]. spending time together. morality’s sentimentality and attachment to other sides doesn’t end there. that is only the beginning. but further such declarations are less within the realm of quality time and more business hours, so let’s move on to our next focus.

i don’t care to think up a diegetic reason they all started showing up in the first place[the first episode relates directly to the audience with a fine mist of a 4th wall], but anxiety has been present too, since early on in the series. he barely misses out on any discussions, and that’s if you count the initial introduction as a discussion. and he makes good points at times, too. his initial episode is about how to work him down from a heightened state, but in future episodes, he offers legitimate arguments and good points. things like more realistic goals[he says he knows thomas’ limits, a fair assessment], saner plans, emotional insight, honesty that is brutal but ultimately helpful, and reflections on past events. he has issues at times with identifying the reasons behind some feelings, but anxiety is irrational[the feeling, not the character], and we can only guess how much insight he has into that anyway. what we know is that when he identifies problems, he really wants to be heard, and he’s not the best at telling whether problems he’s identified are as legitimate concerns as he’s guessed due to cognitive distortions. these are thoughts thomas has, and anxiety gives voice to. other sides, in the past, have been less willing to help with working through these concerns, and more willing to just shoot down anything he says on the grounds of he said it. and even if he has trouble with which hesitancies are reasonable, he’s worried about them ignoring actual problems if he doesn’t point them out. anxiety wants to be listened to, until he doesn’t. there are a few contributors to that, logic demonstrating his concern as being excessive, disparaging remarks about how unhelpful/relentlessly negative he is hitting home, how successful all their talks have actually been in solving problems, any number of these;very likely a combination. we shall focus on the third: they’ve all been communicating with one another, which has been helping a lot to work through problems. they are identifying problems, and solving them. anxiety feels that things they’ve said about him causing problems are right, and that he isn’t needed/is holding thomas back. but as mentioned, anxiety has been there since nearly the start, appearing just as often as anyone else. he’s been there throughout the developments the others have been making; as they all communicated, he was communicating too, and in fact contributed to the solutions of multiple problems. he’s been there all along as the family came together; he may feel like an outsider, but he’s as much a part of the group as anyone. morality’s card said family. the specific label was a product of sentiment[not inaccurate by any means though], but it was accurate in depicting them as a unit. they do work primarily as a unit from that point on.

now to address more recent events. deceit and the duke have made an appearance, the others[pros: accurate. cons: this is a word i want to use for other purposes, such as that one there], or ‘dark sides’[pros: distinctive. cons: reductive] have been confirmed to be a group. that said, they are only confirmed as a group, not a cohesive unit. who knows to what extent they communicate or operate as a team. there is still ambiguity, however, about whether they are more of a unit than the ‘light sides’[pros: distinctive. cons: exclusive] or famILY[pros: accurate. cons: unhelpfully inclusive, contains capital letters, sentiment-ridden] were before season one. no dark side we have encountered seems like the type to both have and act on the kind of sentimentality that attached morality to his family, but there is much greater evidence of them interacting offscreen before.  yet that evidence shows no signs of particularly positive interactions. anxiety and deceit evidently know each other, but there's little evidence of what their past was actually like, and their interactions now are frigid, to say the least. deceit and the duke had a conversation about transparency, which was heavily paraphrased[i have to assume so at least] and occurred after deceit revealed himself in the first place. that seemed like less of a group decision and more an idea deceit had. furthermore, that idea seemed to be in response to events and actions on the part of the light sides. so who can say if the dark sides ever worked together. but it’s hard to imagine they’d have done so more than the light sides had been.

to be clear, my emphasizing morality as the one who declared them a family out of sentiment should not be read as disagreement with him saying so; i do not seriously believe anyone included in that family disagrees. he is the one who said it first, acted on it first, and initiated more of the social bonding. and referring to sentimentality as a factor should not be read as negative. that’s just what these are being attributed to. it’s a trait he has in spades, more than any other side, that contributes to his decision-making.

i know i said i was going to talk about self-love later, but that’s gonna be another time. besides, i have raw data to collect on that first.

i feel like i write more about the older episodes because they’re easier to parse, and i don’t know why. maybe it’s that they don’t have as many instances of people keeping their goals close to the chest. or it could be that they’re less of a time investment to rewatch. maybe the characters talking more like characters than people makes them speak less straightforwardly. maybe the fact that new episodes are caused by ‘real’[to character thomas] events and less about unprompted introspection is leaving some things to the imagination. maybe they’re trying to leave more to the imagination now! to be fair, imagining is fun. but insight lets me do things like this.

i did a whole separate section on virgil. to be fair, he could use the validation. he’s 100% a part of this family. plus, i’m not opposed to writing about other characters i love to the same extent. 8)

if you have thoughts about this, let me know! if you have questions, be assured i will be more upset if you don’t ask them than if you do.

[purplesurveys]

766

My dad is starting to gear me up for ~adult life~ and has made me start a Paypal, a social security number, and all that jazz and it’s making me immensely anxious, so expect more surveys than usual in the next few days lmao.

How frequently are you inclined to read, and how much? Not frequent at all. I’ll read only if I have to; and when it comes to reading for leisure, I’ll only reread books I’ve already read in the past. I find it sad considering how big of a bookworm I was as a kid. When was the last time you questioned the direction your life was taking? Right now, what with the Covid crisis. My life would have been mapped out ever so neatly if my life’s schedule went as expected - finish the sem, finish my thesis, graduate, travel for a bit, get a job. Now that that has been thrown out the window I essentially have to start from scratch and go into the world blind. And if you've been reading my surveys, you’ll know my least favorite thing to have to deal with is big change. Would you say that your personal views align with society's, generally? Not the society I have no choice but to be surrounded by, which is mostly Catholic, homophobic, sexist, and just very backwards in general. But when it comes to people I voluntarily choose to be with, like the friends I make and the people I follow on social media, I make sure their views are as liberal as mine so I don’t go completely crazy. ^ If not, in what ways do your opinions drastically differ? I just said it, but yeah Filipinos continue to be very resistant to more open-minded, modern views. Girls will still often be told to cover up, religions other than Christianity are viewed as wrong and of lower status, abortion is the most scandalous thing a woman could do, drug addicts must be handled with bullets and not rehab, etc. Basically everything you can roll your eyes over, that’s what Filipinos will tend to side with; and it’s very difficult to want to have your voice heard here because you will be ridiculed and thrown Bible verses instead of legit arguments. What small things have the ability to get under your skin? People who only start picking their orders once they’re the ones at the cashier, drivers who do have their turn signal on but will go THE OTHER DIRECTION, finding out there’s a car accident and I find out traffic has been building up only because drivers slow down to look at the crash site. The last one makes me especially mad every time it happens lol.

When was the last time you were caused to be upset with someone? I haven’t been upset with anyone in a while. If I’m upset these days, blame it on the weather. ^ Have you made up with that individual yet, or will you ever? I will never be ok with the summer climate over here. What is something small that has the ability to cure a bad mood? Hearing a favorite song on the radio as I’m driving, hitting all the green lights while driving, finding a parking spot near the mall entrance... man I really miss going out :(( What beverage is best capable of quenching your thirst? Water. What was the last big change through which you went? It hasn’t happened yet but I’ll be graduating and will officially be done with school forever in a few weeks. I mean, that’s the case unless I decide to take up a master’s but honestly the chances of that are super blurry as I’m over school at this point. ^ Do you deal well with change, typically? Have you always? I am honestly terrible at it and as much as I’m excited to get my first real job, I’m also scared to see how my adjustment pans out. I’ve had a pattern for not being able to adapt well to a new phase – I didn’t adjust in high school until my junior year, and I didn’t adjust in college until the latter half of my sophomore year. I really wish the trend doesn’t continue in the workplace because I can’t handle another mental slump. How do you feel after spending a great quantity of time online? I feel nothing? I mean I need the internet to do almost everything so it’s just become a part of daily routine; it’s normalized already. I would tend to feel some shame if I’ve been unproductive online when I could’ve been doing much more important stuff, but I’ve been avoiding that - I’ve been working on my thesis again, working on stuff for my org, participating in my other extracurriculars, etc. I feel relatively productive given the current circumstances. What do you consider to be the biggest drawback to being you? Like I said, I’m terrible with change. It takes forever for me to warm up to new conditions, and in that period I tend to feel very alone and miserable. I don’t know why I’ve never learned to just get out and make friends earlier. What do you consider the best part of being who you are? ^ Related to said drawback, once I have adjusted to the change, I do very well. I make lots of friends and am back to being my bubbly, social self. I just wish She could come out more easily. What kinds of things do you have on display in your room? Several Audrey Hepburn frames, a couple of paintings, and a poster of a Korean actor. What do you think your room and its contents say about you, if anything? I think more than anything you’ll see how my interests have shifted over the years haha. There’s tons of old WWE magazines, Paramore albums, Beyoncé albums and DVDs, crafty stuff like painting sets and coloring books, etc. When was the last time you felt insecure about something/some situation? Half hour ago when my dad was encouraging me to register for a bunch of grownup stuff. He doesn’t pester me a lot in small bits everyday (which I would really prefer); he’s more of a I’ll-dump-all-this-shit-on-you-in-one-go kind of person, which pressures me even more. I mean I’m excited for this new chapter but I wish he didn’t tell me to start a bank account and a Paypal and a social security number and a TIN all at the same time. What is something about which you are very confident or self-assured? I pride myself on being a good worker/co-worker. Do you ever stop to contemplate infinity? No. Are you comfortable amongst nature, or does the wilderness discomfit you? Sure, it makes me feel at peace. When was the last time someone or something caught you off guard? Andrew did a buuuunch of progress on our thesis this afternoon after a few days of passive-aggressively telling him that I’ve been doing all the work in the last week. How much time do you put into maintaining your appearance and hygiene? I don’t want to take a lot of time since I’m usually on a tight schedule but I do put enough effort to look and smell nice, if that makes sense. Like I wouldn’t take hours to do my makeup and put up an intricate hairdo, but I will still make sure I don’t exit the house looking shabby. Are there any foods you eat daily? . . . Or wish you could? I have rice and some sort of meat everyday. When was the last time someone new entered your life? Start of the semester when we had a new wave of applicants joining our org. ^ What was your first impression of that individual? They all seemed nice and fun to be around, and I’m glad their batch has had amazing chemistry from the get-go. But because of the lockdown I never got to know them all that well so I’m a little sad about it, since I’m already graduating. Do you put much thought into your handwriting? No? It’s not really something I can control anyway haha. What are some of the top priorities in your life right now? Ugh I’ve talked about this so much on here that it’s almost stupid because I take these surveys to begin with to distract myself from my current anxieties only for the surveys to ask about said anxieties ksksksks. Can I say pass for now? Lol In general, how do you feel about romantic relationships? They’re nice, and it feels good to have a person you can share everything to, be affectionate with, who supports you in everything, etc. I’ve been used to being in one for so long now I honestly can’t imagine being single. Which emotional sensation inconveniences or bothers you the most? As if I haven’t talked about it on this single survey enough, anxiety. Are you capable of consoling others in their grief? It depends on how bad is the thing they’re grieving and how accepting they are of help. I don’t know if I’m capable of talking to someone who has lost a parent, but I’ll be able to talk to a friend who’s going through a breakup. Do you ever find it awkward to compliment another being? No. I can give compliments, but I’m unable to take them. When was the last time you had a new experience? What was it? Earlier this afternoon when my dad made me make a Paypal hahaha. Skskss plz stop reminding me of scary things Do you dress more for yourself, or to the expectations of others? A little bit of both. I want to look nice, but I also make sure I keep up with the trends so others think I look nice. What kinds of things tend to stress you out? The stuff I’ve mentioned throughout this survey... What is one way you cope when you feel like crap? I watch videos, I eat whatever I’m craving, I talk about it with my girlfriend, I hug my dog... I have a lot of coping mechanisms.

Name an insult you regularly receive, if there is one? My mom tells me so many insults on a regular basis I can put each one of them in a spinning wheel and give you whatever comes out lol. Name a site that takes up a lot of your time? YouTube. What is something you used to believe about life that you no longer do? That money was easy to acquire. It was certainly so easy to fantasize about as a kid. What is a lesson you have recently learned? I don’t recall picking up anything new lately. Realizations, sure; but I’m not sure about lessons. Do you have a tendency to look on the morbid side of life? Sometimes. When was the last time you went shopping? What did you buy? A weekend before the quarantine. I bought a couple of new tops. When you shop for clothing, how long does it take you? 10-15 minutes tops. I just pick out whatever looks pretty. What is something fun you have done within the past week? It’s been a horrid week. I can’t answer this question. What is something you hope you never have to do again? Stay at home with nothing to do for this long. How does the rain affect your mood, if it does? It makes me feel happy and at peace.

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [6/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47723155

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: Mature (for like one thing this chapter)

Beta Reader: None at the moment, but if anyone’s interested, message me through Tumblr.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #art #jealousy #reincarnation #secrets #undying love

Author's Note(s): Chapters are all still unbeta'ed, but I'm hoping that will soon be fixed :)

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim leaves the Cave and collects his bike and gear, preoccupied with conflicting thoughts.

On the one hand, he wants Jason spared as much discomfort as possible, but on the other, the possibility of him never waking up again makes his heart clench. Temporary or not, it’s still killing Jason, and there’s a reason why everyone is so reluctant to do that.

The fallout from his death the first time still haunts them all today. Still influences the Mission.

And either way, whether we use Diana’s cure or not, it all comes back to finding Eros’ arrows, right?

And speaking of Eros…

Tim returns to the Nest and the sight of the Olympian sprawled against his cot, completely naked and his own hand busily moving up and down his very erect dick.

“Oh my god what the hell,” Tim chokes, whirling around to avoid the sight.

“Fuck,” is the reply he gets, breathless and more irritated than anything else. “You…had to walk in now? Come back in…like…ten minutes.”

“I’m not leaving my own—” The distracting sound of heavy panting and the wet slide of skin on skin interrupt him. “I’m standing right here, stop it!”

“Not really much incentive,” Eros sniggers.

Tim scrambles over to his computer console, trying to block out the sounds, and punches in the code to activate the fire safety system. There’s a sputtering sound as the sprinkler in the ceiling sets off, followed by a shriek of surprise.

“What the hell, man?” Eros yelps, trying to scuttle away from the cold spray.

“Pants,” Tim bites out. “Now.”

“Okay, okay, geeze!”

There’s the rustle of jeans being dragged on, along with a great deal of cursing in more languages than Tim can recognize. Deeming it to be safe, Tim turns off the sprinkler and turns to face his unwanted houseguest, who’s glaring at him as if he wants to set him on fire.

“I can’t believe you did that. What happened to respecting guy-time?”

“There is no guy-time while you’re here,” Tim growls. “It’s enough I have to deal with your attitude, I’m not listening to sex noises. Or watching you get off.”

“Not something you’re into?” Eros questions. “I bet if I was 6’2” and with muscles like Thor, you’d be singing a different tune, darlin’.”

Don’t bet on it.

Eros’ personality aside, Tim’s never really had a taste for men. He considers himself open in terms of preferences, but until Jason, there’s never been any guy he’s ever thought about that way.

He clenches his fists.

Jason.

“Why didn’t you say anything about Stygian Sleep?” he demands, desperate to reroute this conversation pronto.

Eros snorts and rolls his eyes. “Of course someone brought that shit up. I’ll tell you why—because it’s a cure that’s as bad as the disease. Worse maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean its price is steep and I didn’t think you’d be willing to pay it. I was saving time.”

“What did we say about not sharing all the information?” Tim snaps, and then pauses as something occurs to him. “Wait. Is that price the reason you couldn’t help your wife?”

It’s been confusing him, since Eros is supposedly a god; you’d think he’d be able to figure out a way to save the life of someone he supposedly loved.

“The Styx is older and more powerful than we are,” Eros replies, his entire demeanor shifting, as if to put distance between himself and the topic. “It has rules that make it pretty much impossible for a soul that’s been bound to it to leave. Only a soul that’s already returned from Hades can make that sacrifice…and it must be of equal value. Soul for soul, you see? God for god, mortal for mortal.”

Tim frowns.

“Put it this way—bodies are like this Zesti container,” the Olympian says, grabbing one of the many empty cans lining his table. “There’s only room for a certain amount of soul. No more.”

“And when Psyche was cursed, she was mortal,” Tim realizes; a beat later, “And you were a god.”

“Exactly.”

For the first time since they met, Tim feels a flicker of sympathy for the Olympian. It doesn’t make up for his generally irritating personality, but no one wants to lose someone they love. It’s especially hard when you know how to save them but are physically unable to do it.

Something else occurs to him.

“If we used the Stygian Sleep on Jason, there wouldn’t be anyone who could bring him back,” Tim realizes.

There’s no shortage of colleagues they know who have been dead, but no one with enough of a connection to Jason to willingly consign themselves to the death for him. And in the Family, the only one that’s actually been dead and come back (Dick doesn’t count, his heart only stopped for a few minutes) is Damian. And there’s no way Bruce, or anyone else, would let him make that sacrifice, even if he were so inclined.

“See?” Eros says. “I was sparing you the pain of a bad option.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Somehow I doubt it was as altruistic as that.”

Which means they’re back to square one, with the only way to save Jason being finding Eros’ diviners.

There’s a hollow pain in Tim’s stomach. Jason’s in trouble because of him. If he hadn’t thrown himself in front of Tim to save him from the gunfire, he wouldn’t have gotten tagged with Eros’ blood.

On the heels of that is the feeling of disgust.

His harmless daydreams of Jason ever liking him in that way have been twisted in mutated into this.

So, Tim dutifully throws himself back into the investigation.

Video-chatting with everyone back at the Cave, they work together on cross-referencing areas where Eros’ robberies took place and the locations where he last sensed his bow.

For two days, it’s just endless sifting through data and ignoring Eros’ increasingly obnoxious behavior and trying not to think about Jason.

Then, at last, there’s a break in the case.

“All these places you robbed,” Tim begins, frowning at his digital murder-board. “They all correspond with instances of murder-suicides. The victims are always a couple that never showed any sign of domestic issues.” He had noticed them earlier in his investigation, but thought they were unrelated. “Wasn’t there something in the stories…your arrows, they can make people fall in love, but that’s not all they do.”

Eros blinks and then his eyes narrow. “The golden tipped ones make people fall in love. The lead-tipped ones make people hate each other with a bitter passion.”

“I’m going to run a search on the victims, see if there are any connections.”

“I can tell you right now there aren’t,” a mechanical voice interrupts, freezing Tim’s screen.

“Oracle,” Tim greets, not even surprised that she’s been listening in.

“Oracle?” Eros repeats. “What is it with you people and muddying the legacies of the great ones? Have you ever even been to Delphi?”

“The only link between the murder victims is they were all newly married,” the flat, digital voice continues, ignoring Eros. “If you widen the net to track murder-suicides during the past month, most of them occur in or around areas where Eros was looking for his bow and arrow. The interesting thing is, though, they all happened before Eros committed his robberies.”

“What?” Tim asks, confused.

“That’s probably what I was sensing,” Eros says, perking up. “If someone’s using the bow and arrow to incite hatred between lovers, that’s what I was drawn to. But if there were more than one death happening in the area, it’s no wonder I couldn’t get a strong trail. It’s like the scent was overlapping too much.”

“Which means whoever took your diviners not only knew what they were taking, but also from who. And how to throw you off their trail.”

Eros’ face is stormy.

“Still no clue who this could be?” Tim asks, and receives no answer in return. “Great. Very helpful. Do you even want to solve this case?”

Oracle interrupts whatever quip the Olympian has prepared. “Red Robin, you might want to return to the Cave.”

“What? Why?”

There’s a sinking sensation in his gut.

“Red Hood isn’t doing well. And Nightwing might be on the verge of convincing Batman that Wonder Woman’s solution is the only option.”

“What? No! I sent them the report of exactly why that’s a bad idea!” Tim snaps, already hurrying toward the garage.

“I know that,” Oracles replies, her voice switching from the screen to his comm. “But if you could see what Hood looks like right now…it might be a kinder end.”

“And what’s Hood’s opinion on this?”

“He’s…not exactly lucid at the moment.”

And now he feels like throwing up. He was sure they had more time! “I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’m blocking any incoming and outgoing transmissions from Wonder Woman, but at some point, they’re going to clue in to that fact. Drive fast.”

The ride is a blur to Tim, whose thoughts race without registering anything beyond a desperate disbelief.

Think! There’s got to be something we can do, something we missed.

As he weaves in and out of the traffic on the bridge to Bristol, he goes over every interaction he’s had with or about Eros and his abilities. Anything that was said, no matter how seemingly insignificant or unrelated.

One idea needles at him, a shadow of an inkling…

He doesn’t bother with the roundabout route this time, tearing into the Cave’s parking area and barely parking the bike before he’s hurrying toward the containment unit. Bruce isn’t there, which is a good sign—he must still be trying to get a hold of Diana; if he were ready to carry out any action for Jason, he would be here with him.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t!” Tim orders, striding forward.

“Tim,” Dick says, getting up from the chair he’s been occupying beside the unit. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He ignores him, eyes drawn immediately to Jason. The older man is sitting curled in a ball at one end of the glass cage, surrounded by books and papers that look like they’ve been thrown in a fit of rage. He presses the heels of his hands against his temples, and Tim can see the bags under his eyes from here. And the angry red welt around his wrists and neck, like he’s been scratching into his skin.

Tim’s heart lurches.

“I didn’t know he was doing this bad,” he whispers.

Dick sighs. “He hasn’t slept in two days, and we can’t sedate him after what Diana said. It’s like he’s going through withdrawal—fever sweats, hallucinations, throwing up. Which isn’t great because he hasn’t been eating, either.”

And on top of that, he’s probably feeling trapped in that claustrophobic cell.

“He’s deteriorating right in front of us.”

“I know. We’re trying to contact Diana, but—”

“No. Not that. That is not an option.”

“Tim—”

“It would kill him, Dick! There’s no waking him up from it!”

“This is killing him, too! Wouldn’t you rather he didn’t suffer anymore?”

Tim’s fists curl into balls and he glances back at Jason.

He knows he;s is fighting. Bruce’s training and whatever he learned from the League is probably keeping him tethered—even if it’s only looselytethered now—but that’s only a stopgap. Jason looks like he’s on the brink of bashing his head against the glass until he knocks himself unconscious.

The mental image makes Tim recoil.

Jason’s in pain and it’s my fault.

He needs to help him, needs to do something, even if it means tamping down his own inconvenient feelings and letting Jason do…whatever he needs to.

Tim will do it; if it means giving Jason more time, he’ll do it.

Even if the idea of it makes him nauseous because right now Jason isn’t in his right mind and when they fix him, he’s going to hate Tim. But then…he’s hated him before, so at least Tim will know what to expect. And maybe if he’s careful about it…

Something Eros said about the nature of desire comes back to him then, and he considers it alongside what he knows about Jason.

He can’t take it anymore.

Tim strides to the door of the containment unit, ready to input the code. Dick blocks his way.

“You can’t!”

“I have an idea.”

“Then tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.”

“You can’t do anything right now,” Tim replies with a sad smile. “Just trust me, okay?”

Dick is still conflicted, but after a beat, he steps out of the way.

Tim opens the door to the containment area and slips inside, letting it close behind him. Slowly, he approaches Jason, almost the same way he might a wounded animal, moving slowly so as not to spook him.

Jason is shaking his head, backing away from him, and murmuring something to himself. Something foreign sounding, like a grounding chant; swear beads on his forehead.

His eyes are clenched shut, as if he’s trying not to see—either Tim or whatever hallucination has been plaguing him.

“Jason,” Tim says quietly. No response. “Jason, look at me.” Clear blue eyes snap open, locking with Tim’s. “I need you to focus on me, okay? And, uh, don’t punch me.”

He can see the difficulty Jason is having with comprehending right now, but he’s lucid enough to flinch away when Tim reaches for him.

“Tim!” Bruce barks somewhere in the distance, having finally made his appearance.

He ignores him and seeks out Jason’s hand, wrapping his hand around it. Or trying to; the other man’s hand feels huge compared to his.

He gives a fully body shudder at the contact, and then he’s clasping back at Tim as if he’s his lifeline. Something is at war in his eyes, that bit of sanity that tells him Jason’s still there.

“Philtatos,” he whispers, and Tim shivers at the way the strange word rings like a verbal caress.

Tim’s thumb automatically swipes across Jason’s wrist, and skin to skin like this he can feel the frantic beat of his pulse. Too fast for someone that’s been sitting still.

“You’re going to be okay,” Tim tells him. “Remember your training. Just breathe…and focus. Hold as tight as you need to.”

Jason’s breath shudders in a way that suggests he trying to comply.

Tim isn’t sure how long they stay like that, him crouched in front of Jason just holding his hand and murmuring calming words. But at some point, Jason begins to look visibly better. His pulse is returning to normal, the cold sweat on his face is beginning to cool and his breathing evens out.

“What…” Jason begins, eyes unfocused in their exhaustion. “Tim…?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“…shouldn’t be. I might…”

“You won’t,” Tim insists, confident. “It’s like what Eros said when we met him, remember? Desire is not just about…physical attraction. That’s not what you’re fixating on right now, is it?”

Jason shakes his head, slow, though his eyes don’t leave Tim’s face.

And I know what skin hunger looks like, Tim doesn’t add.

Before becoming a Wayne, before Dick and Alfred and Bruce and Steph—no on ever touched Tim in kindness or just casually because they wanted to. He was so touch-starved that for the longest time he flinched whenever Dick tried to hug him, even as he craved it more than anything.

He had been so worried about it seeming creepy to want to be held or hugged by his former mentor that it was, he’d let himself believe he wasn’t worth it. It’s a thought that occasionally comes back to him even now. And Jason…

Well, he wasn’t just starving for food when he was living with an abusive father and a drug addicted mother.

“Fuck, babybird, I’m so tired,” Jason murmurs, and there’s something in his voice like he’s asking permission. Tim feels a grating burn at the back of his throat and a swoop in his stomach.

“Go to sleep,” he says quietly. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

And utterly uncharacteristic of him, Jason listens. He lets Tim lead him back to his cot and sit him down, their hands still clasped, and almost the moment he closes his eyes, he’s passed out.

There’s a lingering heavy silence.

Tim takes one last moment to make sure Jason’s asleep and not about to wake again anytime soon, and in a more level voice remarks, “Could you guys stop gawking like this is a side show?”

Outside the glass, Alfred and Dick watch with bemused expressions; for Bruce, it’s disapproval.

“Uh, Tim?” Dick asks, clearly uncomfortable. “Explain?”

“It’s something Eros said. And Cassie, too,” Tim explains, settling back against the wall beside the cot. He keeps his fingers threaded between Jason’s. “This infection, it capitalizes on feelings that are already there, right? With Jason, his instinct when it comes to physical desire…it’s probably not a sex thing. Not with his background. But there is a touch component; having physical contact with another person—in this case, the object of his fixation.”

Alfred appears impressed. “How could you be sure of that?”

“I…wasn’t.”

But his theories are usually correct, so it balances out, he thinks. Dick and Bruce look like they disagree, though.

“Tim, this was foolish,” Bruce lectures, looming as best he can from the other side of the glass. “This might have gone very differently.”

“But it didn’t. I might not be great reading people, but except for you, I don’t think anyone ever bothered to learn about Jason the way I did.”

“He has a point,” Dick agrees carefully. “He was a persistent little stalker.”

There’s a degree of fondness in the statement.

Tim scowls at him and continues. “Besides, like I said, I know the look.”

Bruce doesn’t seem convinced.

“This is only a temporary solution,” he points out. “It won’t work forever.”

“But it will work for now,” Tim insists. “That’s what matters.”

And there’s really no more arguments against it.

⁂

Of course, Jason complains about it when he wakes up.

“I’m going to lose all my street cred,” he grumbles, shoveling a plate of Alfred’s oatmeal into his mouth with his left hand. The fingers of his right remain interlocked with Tim’s.

Tim makes to pull away. “I can stop—”

“I didn’t say that,” Jason interrupts, tightening his hold on Tim’s hand. He knows Tim has no intention of following through with the thread, but that doesn’t make it easier to look him in the eye.

Since waking up with Tim by his side, Jason’s condition has improved drastically. The color is back in his skin, and he’s entirely lucid if Tim is sitting within his personal space. And, of course, his appetite for actual food as returned.

It doesn’t completely quell the gnawing hunger, but he knows that’s not a physical hunger. There’s not much anyone can do about that until the damned arrows are found.

“I think you’ll eventually be okay to leave the containment for short periods,” Tim tells him, looking thoughtful. “At least if I stay in close quarters.”

“Out of the question,” Bruce interrupts; he’s been looming in the corner with a glare since before Jason woke up.

Oddly enough, I don’t think it’s directed at me this time.

“Definitely not a good idea, Timmy,” Dick adds.

“Why? He deserves to shower in peace and eat and groom and act like a normal human being instead of a quarantine patient,” Tim points out. “It’s not like he’s contagious.”

And, yes, Jason could definitely go for a goddamn shower; the grit on his skin has grit. But almost as soon as he has the thought, another image appears in his mind.

“You planning to shower with me, babybird?” he asks, voice tense as he tries to joke it off, because Tim couldn’t possible mean—?

“What? No!” Tim’s cheeks darken. “I think after another hour or so, you should be alright with light or no contact. And once we reach that point, I can probably sit outside the bathroom or something. If I’m within reach it should be okay. We can test it out.”

“Just what I always wanted, to be a science experiment…”

“No,” Bruce says again. “He might attempt to make a run for it or lash out and hurt someone. You in particular, Tim.”

“It is the whole reason I agreed to come here,” Jason concedes.

“And do you have any intention of going away again?” Tim shoots back, and frowns at Bruce. “At least not voluntarily. Also, the idea of him harming anyone is unlikely, he only reached out for Matt because he was disoriented and mistook him for me.”

“Who?”

“The kid from the alley,” Tim clarifies.

Jason’s stomach churns. “That doesn’t excuse what I almost did.”

“He was fine. He was a little shaken up, but I made sure he knows it wasn’t you. That you’re not like that,” Tim assures him, and refocuses on Bruce again. “There’s no one here he can do that with because he knows us all. If that weren’t the case, he would probably have gotten upset at the fact Damian’s been here for the past hour.”

In the shadows, Damian scoffs at being caught. “It’s not like I was hiding.”

And Tim…has a point there. Not sure if it’s because he’s sitting here with me or not, but now that I think about it, the past two days I couldn’t care less about Damian being here.

That’s actually a relief. So he’s not going to become a creeper to anyone that passably resembles Tim. Just Tim.

Okay, maybe relief isn’t the right word.

“As for trying to hurt me, I doubt he’d be capable of doing that in his current state,” Tim concludes. “Besides, I know how to defend myself. The fact that you don’t think I can do that much is a bit insulting.”

Jason can’t help the snort of laughter at that. He always likes when people other than him stand up to Bruce, but it’s somehow better that it’s Tim.

“If I might also point out,” Alfred speaks up. “It has been a rather long while since Master Jason has been able to enjoy a dinner at a table. With other people in attendance.”

Bruce doesn’t respond beyond exhaling through his nose.

“And that’s it, B,” Dick says, trying for levity. “Alfred’s spoken.”

Bruce doesn’t seem amused, either by the situation or the fact he’s lost the argument. Nor can he pursue it, because a notification pops up on the Batcomputer that Firefly is making a nuisance of himself again.

Which is how an hour later, Jason finds himself showered (fastest shower in his life while Tim waited outside the door), wearing fresh clothing (how the hell does Alfred always have clothes in his size around?) and sitting in the library with Tim, who’s doing something clever on his tablet.

“I figure you’d prefer not to be in the Cave unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Tim tells him, not looking at him.

“And I have taken the liberty of returning all of the materials you requested earlier,” Alfred adds, walking in with an armful of books. “I should hope you treat them with a mite more respect this time though.”

“Sorry, Alf,” Jason winces.

“Never mind that, Master Jason. Extenuating circumstances, and all that.”

He departs again.

“Anyhow, you can keep looking into whatever you were doing before,” Tim goes on, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s a good idea. Not all information on the subject has been digitized, so it isn’t searchable. I’ve got remote access to my system and the Cave from here, so I can keep working without having to leave you alone.”

“Right. Because you’ve got no choice but to be my babysitter.”

He tries to dial down the bitterness there, but Tim detects it easily. Finally, he glances up; his expression is surprised, and strangely soft.

“Being here is my choice. Or didn’t you notice the glares B was sending me all night?”

“Yeah, but he always looks like that. That could be about anything.”

“True, but in this case it’s because I have an issue with you getting dosed with some Olympian Death Kool-Aid.”

Tim had explained about the Stygian Sleep when Jason woke up and was trying to understand why they were holding hands. “Better that than me doing something I’d regret.”

“And I say what I said before—give it time.”

Jason scowls. “It’s not fair for you to use you against me right now.”

“If it means putting off the possibility of you dying, it’s totally fair. Besides, in this family, you know no one is above manipulation. Least of all me.”

“Why do you even care?” Jason wants to know. “After everything I’ve done to you?”

Tim shrugs, eyes darting away again.

“I don’t want Bruce and Dick and Alfred going through it again,” he mumbles, returning his attention to the tablet. “Losing you again. It…wasn’t pretty.”

Which Jason’s heard before, but he’s never exactly been willing to hear the specifics. He wonders if Tim decided to tell him this time, if he’d listen.

They lapse into silence then, both drawn into their respective avenues of research. Thankfully Tim’s theory about Jason’s affliction has proven true, and he seems to be regaining some control over himself.

Jason recalls what Eros said, about his condition depending on how far Tim was willing to go for him. He’s not entirely sold on the idea—there have to be limits, of course—but he won’t argue that it’s nice to be able to focus on something other than Tim for a few hours.

Just as long as he’s within easy reach.

By the early hours of the morning, though, Jason has grown bored.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” he grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots a look at Tim, who’s frowning over his tablet and clearly didn’t hear him, and rolls his eyes.

He wants to have this whole mess sorted out, of course, but right now it doesn’t look like it’s going to be finished for a while.

They need a break.

Tim needs a break, or he’s going to pass out.

“Time to take a breather, babybird,” he declares a good ten minutes later, after debating with himself about how much of this is his regular concern and how much is Eros-induced mollycoddling.

“We don’t have time for breaks.”

“Right now, we do. And you’ll be able to think better if you get some air and come back with a new perspective. Never know when you might get an idea from something random.” Tim still doesn’t appear very enthusiastic, and so Jason tries another tack. “It’ll make me feel better at least, I feel like I’ve got ants in my brain.”

Which is what convinces Tim; Jason feels only a little guilty about that, figuring it’s for the greater good.

No one is above manipulation, right?

“Go sit in the family room and queue something up on TV,” he orders, something like enthusiasm manifesting in his stomach. “Casablanca or whatever.”

Tim makes a face. “You really think that’s the best movie idea for right now?”

He considers, then winces.

“Good point. Fine, choose whatever. Something with car crashes and explosions and shit. I’m gonna grab provisions.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“It’s downstairs, not navigating Gotham’s sewer system,” Jason retorts.

“Okay…” But Tim still looks doubtful.

Which Jason remembers the reason for once he’s in the kitchen making coffee.

Alfred won’t let him cook, insists on whipping up a tray of sandwiches because he doesn’t trust anyone in this house to make healthy food choices. Normally Jason would argue the point, because he eats just fine thank you very much, but his thoughts are straying back to Tim, and the fact he’s not here.

And if he glances at his phone every so often, finger hovering over the Contact button for Tim, well…he can’t do anything about that, can he?

At last, Jason heads for the family room, carrying a tray of coffee and tea.

“I’ve got the drinks, and Alfred said he’s going to bring up the rest of the—”

He freezes when he discovers the room is not occupied with just Tim. Dick is sprawled beside him on the couch—close! Too close!—while Damian hunches over his sketchpad in the corner, Titus and Pennyworth curled beside him, looking mutinous as ever.

“Bruce is still out on patrol. Gordon needed him for something, so he suggested we head back here and check on you,” Dick answers the question that wasn’t asked.

‘Suggested’ my ass.

Unsaid is the knowledge that if anyone has a chance of taking Jason down if he loses it, even if it’s just stalling him until Bruce gets there, Dick and Damian have the best chance.

He can’t even argue the point.

Scowling, Jason wanders over to the end table beside the couch and puts down the tray before handing Tim his coffee. The younger man takes it, sniffs and makes a perplexed face. “How’d you know that’s how I take my coffee?”

“Hell if I know, apparently it’s something I noticed,” Jason mutters as he finishes steeping his tea.

“Aw, Little Wing, don’t I get any?”

“Fuck off and get it yourself,” Jason snaps, still testy about how close Dick is sitting to Tim.

He knows that Dick has no interest in Tim that way, and vice versa, and that he’s just here to protect everyone. But the older man is also the one everyone likes best. Tim already likes him better than Jason, which puts a bad taste in his mouth and—

And he’s getting lost in his thoughts.

“Move,” Jason tells him. “That’s my spot.”

“You can’t have a spot. You don’t even live here.”

“Neither do you.”

“I’m here more often than you are.”

“That’s irrelevant. It was my spot when I lived here but you were too busy being elsewhere and an asshole, so I guess you wouldn’t know that.”

“I can move,” Tim pipes up quietly.

“Or Jaybird could just sit over here beside me,” Dick suggests innocently

Jason is not gritting his teeth. “No thanks. Your ego’s already suffocating me from over here, I don’t need the added burden of your cologne.”

“Guess you’re sitting on the floor then.”

Tim huffs. “If this is an issue, we can just go back to work. We really should be—”

“No, this is supposed to be a break,” Jason interrupts and glares at the older man, “and he’s ruining it.”

God, he sounds like a child. Tim must think so too, because he stands up and points to the space he was occupying. “Sit.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Jason, if you don’t sit, I’m going back to work.”

Which translates to Jason going back to work, since he’ll inevitable end up loitering wherever Tim goes. So, he scowls, and throws himself down in Tim’s spot, arms crossed and glaring at Dick, who watches the whole thing with a wary look on his face.

That gets blocked when Tim sits between them and shoots them both an irritated glare. “Are we good now?”

Not really, Jason thinks but doesn’t say, because Dick is still too close to Tim. A beat later, something occurs to him, and he smirks.

He stretches out, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch. Not touching Tim, or his shoulder, but there’s a heavy implication of hands offfrom his body language. Dick’s eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into his hair, and there’s worry now written in his eyes, but Jason ignores it.

He’s the one who even made this an issue.

Tim, meanwhile, sits very still, his cheeks stained red. Jason shifts with sudden guilt.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, considering pulling his arm back. “I can sit on the floor if—”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim cuts him off, crossing his arms tight against his body. “Now are we watching, or what?”

“You people are ridiculous,” Damian informs them, having watched the whole interchange with mild derision.

“Your face is ridiculous,” Jason shoots back and tries to concentrate on the television screen.

Which is more difficult than he expects.

The movie is boring. Worse, it’s predictable. He makes a mental note to never let Tim choose the movie ever again, at least until he gets some taste.

Early on, he loses interest in the formulaic plot and static characters, instead occupying himself with studying Tim out of the corner of his eye. The kid really isn’t that bad looking, for someone who lives on coffee and microwave dinners. His lashes are longer than he’s seen on most men, and his cheekbones are sharp without making his face look pinched. There’s also the curve of his mouth, where it’s not really smiling, but quirking upward in dry amusement.

It works well with the snark, Jason muses as his eyes grow heavier.

He drifts off, the family room fading away, dim light and tinny sound from the television blurring end ebbing, until it’s gone and he’s no longer there.

He’s in a large chamber, warmed by the dry breeze that winds through the open concept room. The walls are decorated with rich, colourful frescoes, and the floor with meticulous mosaic.

He leans over a wooden table, frowning down at piles of vellum and papyrus. There are discarded styli and other design tools lying across the sheets of military maneuvers and maps. The nearest one shows a hastily sketched city plan of roads and buildings; the one with the most notations reads Вιβλιοθήκη but it barely registers for him.

His attention is instead on the man seated across the room.

It’s Tim—because, of course it is—and he has a stylus stuck behind his ear while he uses another to etch something into a wax tablet. He’s also chuckling and shaking his head.

“You’re the one who wanted to stop here and found another city. What is this, the fourth one?”

“Fifth,” Jason corrects, though he knows Tim is just teasing him. “And it’s all planned now. Someone else can do the heavy lifting. Dinocrates is champing at the bit to get to work.” He shoves at the maps in front of him in frustration. “And I have things to do! You know that bastard Darius is holed up across the Euphrates trying to dictate to me?”

“He knows he’s losing, he’s just trying to cling to some semblance of power.”

“Exactly!”

“That doesn’t mean you should be impatient. Think it through—you’ll regret it if you just rush in. Remember what happened last time? You sliced a relic of the gods in half.”

“I was fulfilling a prophecy.”

“You were vandalizing public property. Call it what it is.”

“They threw me a parade.”

“Because they’re superstitious old goats.”

Jason crosses his arms. “You’re questioning my gods-given destiny to rule all of Asia. I could have your tongue for that.”

“You already have my tongue,” Tim says dryly. “Among other things.”

Though his face remains solemn, his eyes dance with irreverence and a heat that has Jason licking his lips and suddenly wanting to do something about that smile.

Which is when there’s a sound of approaching footsteps beyond the chamber. Tim looks down quickly, attention back to his etchings, and Jason draws himself up with an air of irritation that isn’t completely false; he hates interruptions.

A man wearing something like a linen caftan darts forward and bows.

“Your majesty, the sculptor Lyssipos has arrived.”

“Send him in,” he replies, a bit of the irritation waning.

A minute later, an older man appears, graying hair and beard oiled into curls; behind him, two darker-skinned men follow, carrying a large crate between them. From the way the old man snaps at them it’s obvious they are slaves.

“Your majesty, as always, you look to be in the prime of health!” the old man says; he has a smile like a salesman.

“Conquering the world agrees with me,” Jason answers in dry amusement. “What brings you so long from your workspace?”

“The piece you commissioned is ready.”

He makes a gesture to the men, who are quick to open the top of the wooden box and bring out a two-foot bust. It has been painted lightly with color, less garish than most artists prefer, closer to realistic. The face and shoulders rising from the marble are stocky, nose straight and locks of hair painstakingly hewn from the stone.

“I spent much longer on this than any other before it, majesty, and believe you will be pleased, though I would be humbled to know your thoughts on it.”

“I don’t know,” Jason chuckles as the men place it on the crate, and turns to Tim. “’Wife’, what do I think of it?”

Tim rolls his eyes, and both ignore the scandalized expressions from everyone in the room not privy to their dynamic. He lays his tools gently aside and wanders over to circle the bust with a critical eye. It is some time before he speaks.

“Master Lysippus has done well to hide that receding hairline you’re so worried about.”

Jason scowls, running a hand through his hair—it’s longer in the back than he’s used to—but the expression doesn’t remain long. He’s too busy studying Tim as he continued to evaluate the sculpture. Jason likes the way he wrinkles his brow and the set of his mouth.

Tim traces the statue’s eyelids and cheekbones with a finger, then brushes across the curved lips almost lovingly. Jason is reminded of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and rather hopes Tim isn’t about to embrace a piece of stone in his place.

“It is graceful, elegant and has good symmetry,” Tim pronounces at long last, and Lysippus preens. “Although I have to admit, for being the work of the only sculptor the king has ever trusted with his likeness…it doesn’t look a thing like him.”

The earns a sharp gasp, and the old man looks as if he has just been struck. The slaves’ eyes flick toward one another, and no one seems to know what to say to that.

Irritation flares in his chest and Jason feels the inclination to snarl, until he notices the teasing in Tim’s eyes.

That little shit…

“My liegeman is simply enjoying a joke at my expense,” Jason informs the old man. “The piece is perfect. A true artistic marvel, as expected.” He reaches for a piece of vellum and scribbles a hasty note, ignoring Tim’s pained expression at the informal proceedings, and then uses his personal seal to legitimize it. “Take this to Harpalus, Machatas’ son. He oversees the treasury and will see to your needs.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Now, I’ll say farewell, as I must have some words with philalexandros here about inappropriate humor.”

“Your majesty,” the men echo, and soon Jason is alone with Tim once more.

He grimaces at him. “Do you see what you did? They’re scandalized by your irreverence.”

“Maybe, but you like that about me, and that’s all that matters,” Tim replies, approaching.

“Yes, but no one else is supposed to know that. I’m meant to be the god-king—remember that cynical philosopher in Corinth? He insisted I’m ruled by your thighs.”

“Hm,” Tim considers. “Aren’t you?”

“Rather the opposite,” Jason grins, drawing close to the shorter man. “I seem to recall you having a few choice things to say about my thighs.” He tips a finger beneath his chin. “Come, let’s take this somewhere else.”

“Why?” Tim teases. “Are you afraid your double is watching?”

Jason’s eyes flit to the lifeless stone irises of the statue, and shudders. “Well, now I am…”

He bends closer to Tim, and can feel his breath on his face—

Jason jolts awake to discover he’s nodded off against Tim’s shoulder—no, worse; he’s practically curled into him, face in the crook of his neck.

Tim is sitting rigid, neck and cheeks radiating warmth, though he’s staring carefully ahead of him. Jason hurriedly shoves himself away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tim croaks.

Dick is watching the whole thing with evident concern his eyes. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“Shit. What did I say?” He doesn’t remember everything from his dream, but he’s pretty sure at the end there he was making some kind of innuendo.

“No idea.”

“It sounded like Greek,” Damian says, glancing up from his sketching. “Not any dialect I’m familiar with, though.”

“Oh. Good.” Jason swallows. “Also, what the hell?”

From everyone else’s expressions, they’re wondering the same thing.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[hope-is-the-best-archive]

🌷,🎉,🍀,💋,🍼 ,🚿 ((PlayKinshara/Rose))

From here || Still accepting!SEND AN EMOJI TO LEARN HOW GOOD/BAD MY MUSE IS AT THAT PARTICULAR SKILL!

@playkinshara (Thanks for the ask!)

🌷 — taking care of living things

It depends on how focused he is, and how much time he has. It’s canon that Jūshirō has no talent whatsoever for trimming the bonsai trees he cares for, but that has to do with aesthetics, rather than his ability to keep the trees alive and healthy. Jūshirō has a natural affinity for living things, both obviously sentient (i.e., people and otherwise) and otherwise (i.e., plants, homes/work spaces, rocks and stones, even food and drink - he’s absolutely an animist, and getting in touch with the spirits of conventionally non-living things is easy for him). When Jūshirō puts an appropriate amount of effort into caring for living things, they always flourish. He intuitively knows what they need, and if it is in his power, he gives. 

He does, however, get distracted every now and then, in an absent-minded professor sort of way. He’ll be so busy making sure his squad members master their new drills that he’ll rush out excitedly to meet them in the morning, and might forget to water his plants, for example.

On the occasions when he’s too ill to care for his plants, that task usually falls to Kiyone. (She ends up transferring to the Fourth at the end of the manga, so I have no doubt that she, too, has an affinity for caring for living things. In fact, I imagine she cares for Jūshirō more often than Kubo shows us in canon. One doesn’t just casually become the lieutenant of the Fourth Division, even if one’s sister becomes the Captain; I think Kiyone has head a wealth of medical skills for a long, long time.)

More under the cut!

🎉 — hosting parties

Jūshirō is brilliant at this. He loves spending time with people, and he loves providing for others, and hosting a party gives him the perfect opportunity to do both of these things. If he has any faults when it comes to hosting parties, they lie in his need to make sure that everyone is perfectly cared for - but truly, even this isn’t a great source of stress for him. As long as he can tell that everyone is having a good time, it doesn’t bother him very much if, say, the caterer didn’t bring enough food - if everyone is game,Jūshirō is more than happy to suggest they order pizza instead. 

Occasionally, he’ll go a little overboard, but anyone who attends one of Jūshirō’s parties probably expects this, and might even find it endearing. A half-birthday party or a small book club get-together technically don’t require balloons and streamers and bright, elaborate signage, but Jūshirō wouldn’t dream of skimping on the decor. It’s all part of the fun, he thinks - and, truth be told, he isn’t wrong. 

If Jūshirō hosts parties in Soul Society, I imagine he does this at one of the Kyōraku family’s many unused houses. Ugendō is a bit small, and Shunsui definitely doesn’t mind offering his space up - especially because he knows he’ll be invited, and because he knows there’ll be free booze. It’s a win-win, the way he sees it.

🍀 — luck

…ah. Well. That depends on who you ask. If you askJūshirō himself, he’ll tell you he’s a deeply lucky man, in the colloquial sense. He has a loving family, a steady job, friends he cares for - and, most crucially to him, he has his life in the first place. 

If you ask anyone else - or frankly, if you look at Jūshirō’s life a bit more objectively - the bag appears considerably more mixed than that. In a day-to-day, mundane way,Jūshirō’s luck tends towards the poorer side. He’s not much of a gambling man, and that’s probably a good thing.  If he tries to read his fortune in his tea leaves, he’s often dismayed by what he sees. (As a result, he chooses not to engage in activities like that very often. He’s a glass-half-full kind of person, but if the glass is very obviously only one-quarter full, Jūshirō would prefer not to look at the glass to begin with.)

Jūshirō would say that luck has very little to do with anyone’s life. He believes in fate and destiny, but he’s less inclined to bother with luck. Our lives are what they are, and we are who we are. All we can do is choose to make of those things what we will. Deep down, he knows that some of his circumstances are unfortunate, but he also knows that he’s worked hard, and that he’s achieved success despite what many might call bad luck. To him, that matters much more than the nature of his luck - if, he would say, such a thing as luck exists at all.

💋 — kissing

Jūshirō is, quite possibly, one of the very best kissers who has ever lived. 

…now. Am I, as mun, a little bit biased? Do I desperately want my favorite fictional character in existence to be a brilliant kisser? I mean, maybe, but truly - think about Jūshirō’s character, and tell me honestly that he isn’t one of the most considerate and attentive romantic partners you can imagine. (You can’t can you? Hehhh. Didn’t think so.)

Jūshirō has a strong, natural aptitude for the physical. He understands without trying how bodies move and exist in space. He understands relationships, both physical and spiritual. 

And so, when Jūshirō kisses, he applies all of these things - and, best of all, there will be such love underlying it all.

Jūshirō is earnest. If he kisses someone, it is because he feels real, true love for them. He doesn’t do hookups; he doesn’t understand them. If someone makes physical advances towards them, he won’t accept unless he reciprocates the desire fully - it’s one of the few situations in which Jūshirō won’t put another person’s immediate needs before his own, because in a case like that,Jūshirō knows that the inevitable fallout and confusion will be even more harmful than the pain of being turned down. 

Jūshirō’s kisses are romantic, through and through. His instinct is always to move slowly. He takes the time to learn what his partner wants and needs, and to act accordingly. He loves small, sweet kisses on the lips and cheeks and forehead, and he also loves deep, slow, sensual kisses, especially with partners who he’s come to deeply trust. Jūshirō loves sharing intimacy, and he loves making his partner feel wanted. He uses his kisses to do both of those things - whatever that means to his partner at the time. 

🍼 — taking care of children

Perhaps predictably, Jūshirō is very, very good at taking care of children. He does his best to treat children with respect - he doesn’t talk down to them, and he believes that once they’re old enough to have opinions and ideas, those opinions and ideas are worth listening to. He loves to play with children. He doesn’t mind the messy parts - cleaning up messes from meals, cleaning up after children who are too young to manage their own toileting needs, cleaning up after children who aren’t feeling well, etc. It’s a necessary part of having children,Jūshirō feels. If you intend to sign up for the fun parts, then you’d better sign up for the messy parts, too. 

In canon, he doesn’t have children because he doesn’t believe he’d be able to devote an appropriate amount of time to them. His work keeps him busy, and besides that, he doesn’t like the idea of raising children while he’s a soldier. He doesn’t want his children to grow up believing that fighting is mundane - it’s necessary sometimes, certainly, and Jūshirō believes that all children should learn that eventually - but he would hate to raise children who might believe that fighting is a reasonable first solution to everything, and he worries that growing up so close to the military might inspire a belief like that. 

Furthermore, in canon, Jūshirō always knew about the inevitable Kamikake that he would have to invoke one day. He didn’t know when it would happen - he only knew that it would undeniably spell his death. The idea of having children, and then being called upon to engage in Kamikake two years or five years - or even ten years - after they were born always terrified him. Better, he thought, to care for his siblings’ children and grandchildren, and to leave his own dreams of fatherhood behind.

🚿 — hygiene

Hygiene is very important to Jūshirō, and he maintains it well. He’s a tidy person by nature, and keeping himself clean and appropriately groomed is part of that. Moreover, the better he takes care of himself, the lower his chances of falling ill become. He can’t prevent every episode, of course, but he knows he’s more likely to stay able and functional if he bathes regularly, cares for his teeth, keeps his living space and his work space free from dust and grime, etc. 

[antonverloc]

💯💕💑💘

sex + romance headcanons || accepting!!

→  💯: WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S IDEAL DATE?     it depends both on his mood and the point in the relationship he’s at with the person. regarding the first stipulation: if he’s in a particularly bad mood or particularly stressed with work (which is often on both accounts), he’ll be very difficult to convince to go on a date at all. work will always come first, and when he’s swamped or otherwise compromised (i.e. upset), he will not want to go out for anything, even if he’s thoroughly in love with his partner (which is unlikely in and of itself). on days like that, his ideal date would simply be spending time in comfortable silence with his partner while working: if they bring him coffee and just be with him without demanding conversation or attention, just hanging out with him (and not getting in his way) while he’s doing lab work or research or whatever else, he’ll be truly pleased. a symbiotic evening during which he can just have company without being expected to put work second would be the best possible date he could ask for. if he’s in a good mood and not overly busy with work, he’ll be more inclined to go out with his partner (or have a romantic night in). he’s rarely one to enjoy simple dates, in this case, like walks in the park or going to the pub - instead, he prefers to take his partner somewhere nice, like an upscale cafe or restaurant in the parade district (or a select few on st. george’s holm that are up to his standards).

     regarding the second stipulation, the type of date he prefers largely depends on where he’s at in his relationship with the person (all of these depend on the relationship being a relatively serious one, as he’s otherwise relatively uninterested in dates with a partner). for example, if it’s early in the relationship, anton is more inclined to take them somewhere extravagant in order to charm, manipulate, and impress them. if they’re already very close and he feels he’s already done so adequately, he feels less of a need to (although he often still will, as he likes to spoil his partners). instead, he’s more inclined towards the aforementioned type of date (simply enjoying their company) - although if he’s in a good mood, this doesn’t always mean comfortable silence. these dates can also be simply unwinding in the living room-type area of his “lair” with a glass of wine and whining about today’s most incompetent idiot or other, lighthearted and therapeutic topics of interest. conversely, instead of very frequent, extravagant dates, verloc will switch to more personal ways to go overboard. like, for example, making (read: having someone else cook it and passing it off as having been made by him) them a romantic, candlelit dinner.

     dates with verloc can be few and far between given that he prioritizes work over most everything else, but they’re not unimportant to him. he values his partner, and his wealthy upbringing left him with the belief that pampering them (usually with gifts or nice dinners and the like) is the proper way to show them that. he’s also a very, very lonely man in many ways, and as such, they’re also important to him individually - he needs the company of someone he feels close with sometimes, whether he’ll admit it or not. additionally, manipulation is something he falls to often, and he finds that taking his partner on lavish dates is a good way to keep them placated despite his often erratic and abusive behaviour. which, yes, is also abusive. 

→  💕: WOULD MY MUSE EVER BE IN A POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP?     short answer: no. long answer: in a hypocritical and self-serving way, yes. anton verloc simply cannot share. he’s jealous, possessive, and controlling - partially because that’s simply his nature, and partially because on some level, he’s absolutely terrified of losing his partner to someone else. if he were in a polyamorous relationship, he would ultimately be incapable of trusting his partner: he’d fear that they loved the other person more, fear that they don’t love him, fear that they’d leave him for them. moreover, he’d go into a jealous rage in all of three seconds, mostly because he has… issues with seeing people as his property when he loves them. which, naturally, is very problematic: he thinks he should have the right to make his partner’s decisions and choose who they can see. not actively - he doesn’t recognize that he thinks this way, and i could go on about why this is the case for hours, but that’s not really the topic. the point is, he could not handle it emotionally, and wouldn’t want to.

     even so, he wouldn’t be against having multiple partners, bringing us to the aforementioned hypocrisy. he would never cheat on a partner and would always be sure that they were alright with it first, but assuming they were and he did have an interest in someone else at the time, he would be perfectly willing to have a polyamorous relationship. but if either (or any) of his partners wanted to be with others themselves, he would never be alright with it (with the exception of very, very rare circumstances). unfair and unreasonable, i know. fortunately, at the very least, if a partner told him “no, i’m NOT comfortable with you having multiple partners”, he would be understanding and respectful of that.

→💑: WHAT ARE MY MUSE’S REQUIREMENTS FOR A POTENTIAL PARTNER?     there are both many and very few all at once, which i realize makes very little sense. to elaborate: anton could, potentially, find a wide variety of partners appealing, as his requirements don’t necessarily limit him to a certain type of person, which i imagine is what this question partially means (”what’s his type”). that said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a lot of requirements.

     first of all, intelligence. this is a deal-breaker. anton cannot and will not be in nor want a relationship with someone he finds intellectually dull. it’s not stimulating, it’s not interesting, and in all likelihood, he’ll just find them abundantly irritating. there are no exceptions or stipulations here.

     second of all, honesty. this is more important after sally than before sally (the two universally accepted eras of time, A.S. and B.S.), as he’s terrified of being manipulated after his relationship with her whereas before, he was certain of his ability to be the one doing the manipulating instead. as such, after she left him, it became infinitely more important to him that he was sure he could trust his partner. liars, manipulators, people like him - he’s notably less inclined to be with them than he would someone straightforward and blunt.

     next, he needs someone who, to some extent, can understand him. he’s a complicated man who can very easily be viewed as nothing but a villain, and he can’t be in a relationship with someone who can’t see that that isn’t all he is. he doesn’t need them to agree with his views or actions, but he needs them not to demonize him for them and to at least understand where he’s coming from.

     he also prefers partners who he can understand. he has great difficulty understanding overly emotional individuals, and when a person frequently favours emotion over logic, he grows frustrated both by his inability to relate and his inability to understand why they’re thinking how they are. and if he gets constantly frustrated, that relationship is destined for failure. we’ve all seen anton verloc frustrated. he doesn’t need his partner to think exactly like he does, but he needs common ground.

→💘: WHAT ARE THE WAYS MY MUSE SAYS “I LOVE YOU” WITHOUT ACTUALLY SAYING IT?     these nonverbal methods are pretty much the only ways he says that, actually. those three words very rarely leave his mouth, as they openly and undeniably put him in a place of vulnerability. that said, that means there are many (often subtle) ways in which he says it without saying it. 

     talking to them about his work without prompting is one of them. it means he expects them to understand, subsequently showing that he respects them - and that he cares about their opinion enough to share his full thoughts with them. 

     there are small actions, additionally, that say “i love you” simply because he wouldn’t do them for anyone else. they can be easily dismissed, though, because a normal person might do them for anyone. for example, if an average human being made you a cup of tea without prompting, you might write it off as them being polite and hospitable. if anton verloc makes you a cup of tea without prompting, that means that he actively thought about another human being’s preferences and desires when he would normally only have considered his own, and that’s quite something. there are some circumstances in which he would do this to be hospitable (only when manipulating/charming others, really), but if he’s his normal asshole self and he makes you tea (or something of the like: alcoholic beverages, food, coffee, etc.), that means something. 

     if he lets himself be vulnerable around them, that’s a solid “i love you” right there. aftercare after sex? not something he allows. but if he lets a partner take care of him afterwards, that’s an “i love you”. if he lets them do something like give him a massage when he’s openly stressed/in pain, that is too – bonus points if he actually asks for one. emotional vulnerability, too; if he opens up about something he’s feeling, that’s yet another thing he wouldn’t do with someone he didn’t care deeply for.

     little things like generally taking care of his partner are also important. making sure they’re eating and sleeping well, bringing them gifts, worrying about them in any capacity - all of those small things mean that he actively thought of them and their wellbeing without prompting, and valued those concerns enough to act on them.

     finally, actually wanting their company is another way he shows his love. verloc just doesn’t like people as a general rule, finding himself superior to them and as such, finding them irritating. so when he actually seeks out a person to spend his VERY VALUABLE TIME with, that means he thinks notably higher of them than almost anyone else. 

[blancheludis]

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Bruce Banner Tags: 2012 Avengers, Team Bonding, Miscommunication, Enemies to Friends, Team as Family Chapters: 8/? Wordcount: 41.872

Summary: It was supposed to be a mission without surprises, but then a building collapses on top of them and traps them underground.

Tony is hurt but doesn't tell anyone. Steve just wants Tony to give a damn for once. And Clint, who cannot run away from their bickering since he broke his leg, just hopes they do not kill each other before they get him out of there.

---

Tony earns himself some weird glances when he arrives for dinner early that day. He comes marching into the kitchen with a smirk and a box that he drops unceremoniously on Clint’s plate. Without comment, he looks over Bruce’s shoulder at what he is cooking, then saunters over to his own place to bury his nose in a tablet while he waits.

He is aware that Thor, who is leaning against the counter while he chats with Bruce, has been frowning at the dark shadows under Tony’s eyes. Worse, when Steve comes in, he actually stops in the doorway to take in the scene. He does not say anything beyond a hoarse good evening so Tony guesses they are good.

Things become more interesting when Clint and Natasha arrive.

“Tony,” Clint exclaims. His voice still holds a bit of a strain, as if he is not sure talking to Tony is worth the chance of them arguing again. “I thought you had fled the country when we walked by the workshop and no one was there.”

For some reason, Tony is touched by Clint coming to look for him again, no matter how the last time ended. He is not used to that. Rhodey has been suffering his moods for decades now but has always been prone to giving Tony room. Pepper, on the other hand, is not one for a tactical retreat. She might be all cool and professional to him for a while, talking about nothing but business, but she never let Tony chase her away.

Clint does not have any history with him. Once, they saved the world together and now they are essentially roommates. It is strange to find him care.

“You’re bringing Natasha now to threaten me into submission in case I don’t want to come?” Tony quips, careful to keep the bite out of his tone. He realizes that he should not have taken his frustration out on Clint.

Face brightening, Clint steps farther into the kitchen but stops across from Tony. “Easier for everyone around, yes? She doesn’t make a mess if she doesn’t want to.”

Tony refrains from saying that an arrow to the heart would not make much of a mess either. It is not a thought he has put much effort into. Out of everyone at this table, he thinks Clint would be the least likely to snap and leave nothing standing in his wake.

“She’s also not discriminating who she’s going to beat up if you two don’t behave,” Natasha interjects dispassionately as she makes her way to her seat. She sounds almost bored by the prospect.

Tony shares a grin with Clint. It feels natural, as if they are meant for friendship, if only their conscious mind would not always set them back again. Curiously enough, Tony finds himself longing for it with an acute urgency sitting heavily on his chest. Barely being able to breathe is nothing new to him, courtesy of the arc reactor, but it is usually not because of something he wants.

Tony wants this. This team, these people. He wants the easy camaraderie with Thor. He wants to know that Natasha watches his back not to stab him but to protect him. He wants hours flying by unnoticed when he is in the lab with Bruce. He wants to fall into a rhythm with Clint where neither of them has to think twice about getting too comfortable. He wants to be friends with Steve, simple as that.

This is not only about proving his worth anymore, about making up for his mistakes. All his life, Tony has been searching for a place to belong. He has made room for himself wherever he went, commandeering everyone’s attention by being brighter and louder and smarter than everybody else, but at the end of the day, he was always lonely. This team has become more than another chance at redemption. With each passing day, it looks more like this could be home. Tony has always wanted a family.

“What is that?” Clint’s voice rips Tony out of his musings. He has stepped around the table and found the box on his plate, staring down at it with the wariness of one who likes playing pranks and therefore expects them in return.

“It’s a new explosive arrow.” As soon as the words are over Tony’s lips, Clint opens the box and takes out one of the arrows, twirling it in his fingers with obvious glee on his face. “It goes boom. Don’t point it at any of us.”

Because Clint has never been prone to listen to anyone, he spins the arrow until it points directly at Tony. “Did you make me an apology arrow?”

Tony would have preferred to do this in private, but he guesses this team could profit from things done less often behind closed doors. It would not surprise him if Clint was very vocal about his anger over Tony’s behaviour the other night. If Tony does not want to destroy all the progress they have made, a public apology might help.

“I guess you prefer this over a letter,” Tony says, just barely managing not to sound dismissive. He is acutely aware of the rest of the team watching them.

“Next time, I’ll take both,” Clint remarks offhandedly. His grin, though, shows too many teeth to appear innocent. “Or, you know, you could use your words.”

It certainly is a new experience that Tony can hurt people by leaving them alone, by taking himself out of the equation. Up until now, he thought Pepper and Rhodey are anomalies.

“I was trying to not provoke you into shooting me with your new toy,” Tony smirks. Talking usually gets him into trouble.

With careful fingers, Clint replaces the arrow and closes the box, nodding at Tony in thanks as he stashes it to the side. When he is back at his seat, his expression is a little more serious.

“Perhaps you should just put up a sign when you don’t want to be disturbed,” Clint says once he is seated.

It would have been too nice if they could have just let this topic be. They argued, Tony apologizes the way he knows best, surely that is enough. “The door was closed, Barton,” Tony replies dryly. “That’s usually a good indicator.”

Next time, he just has to initiate lockdown. The problem is that Pepper always finds out if he spends too much time locked up there. Tony has no particular interest in discussing the reasons with her. She has never liked talking about his nightmares since they usually remind her of hers.

“It’s your workshop,” Clint says slowly as if this is news to anyone at the table, “where things blow up all the time. I’d very much hope you keep the doors closed. What I mean is, tell me to go without the yelling.”

Tony pushes down the urge to answer something scathing. He had told Clint to go. Several times.

“Perhaps I should have a look at your hearing aids then,” Tony quips with just enough sharpness underlying the words to warn Clint off, “since they’re apparently not doing their job.”

For a moment, Clint sits straighter but then visibly relaxes his shoulders with a grin, inclining his head to indicate he is not going to start another fight. Next to him, Natasha wears a private smile, barely visible if one does not know where to look.

With their conversation out of the way, a little more life returns to the kitchen. Conversations start, Bruce orders them to help with getting the food on the table.

They are all still trying to figure out each other’s moods and quirks. Tony will learn to keep his doors closed instead of going on the attack. Perhaps he will even find someone to distract him from his bad moods. Sometimes, Natasha takes him sparring. Sometimes, Bruce and he talk.

The Avengers are still a work in progress. Luckily, Tony is not one to give up.

Steve stands in front of Tony’s workshop, far more nervous than he ever was before entering one of the recruitment offices, chanting his chosen fake name inside his head, determined to be picked this time. Something about Tony Stark is more terrifying than the prospect of fighting a war. It feels the same, at times. A constant uphill battle where the ultimate goal is not even in sight yet.

That said, things are getting better. Steve is not sure he deserves any credit for that, but it is like all of them have decided to just become more patient with each other. Especially since Clint and Tony’s argument last week. Whatever it was about, that new explosive arrow design helped smooth things over.

If anything, Steve now feels like the odd man out. Natasha is following Clint’s lead and has softened her edges. Bruce and Tony are working better together than ever. For the first time ever, Steve sees the wariness in Tony’s eyes whenever they meet. It is buried deep but grows whenever they argue. It is not that hard to admit that Thor has been right. Steve does not clash with Tony just because they have differing opinions. Tony does not disagree out of spite. They really do not know how to deal with each other. Steve is here to begin to change that.

Well, he has been here for ten minutes already, standing in front of the closed door. No matter his inner resolve, his hand refuses to knock. He has already refused JARVIS announcing him, so he is stuck.

Without warning, the door is ripped open, revealing Tony. While he is wearing his working clothes, his face is one he usually dons for the press, a mixture between blank and smirking, drawing in attacks without letting them through. It is as if Steve’s mere presence has Tony preparing for a fight.

“What?” Tony snaps by way of greeting, then almost hesitantly changes course, “What happened?”

Before he came down here, Steve has prepared what he wants to say, a nice little speech designed to keep them from stumbling into yet another misunderstanding. The moment he is faced with Tony, though, all those words vanish from Steve’s mind.

“Nothing happened,” Steve says quickly.

He instinctively takes a step forward in case Tony decides to close the door in his face. In response, Tony raises an eyebrow at him.

“What have I done wrong then?” Tony asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

The impossibility of their situation has Steve almost giving up. Ever since that first meeting on the helicarrier, they have been like this, expecting an attack and ready to counter.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Steve says.

He fights not to wince when Tony’s smirk grows. “That must be a first.”

Steve is sure this is meant to be provoking and he feels the immediate annoyance rising inside him, but he is here to forge a new path instead of walking their old one for the thousandth time.

Consciously relaxing his tense shoulders, Steve says, “I’ve been told repeatedly now to ask you about Afghanistan.”

Amazed by his own inability to stay on course for one whole minute, Steve almost misses the deep rotted misery flashes over Tony’s face before it closes off.

“And now you want to get it over with like a bothersome chore,” Tony drawls. “I get it.”

This time, Steve cannot find a single excuse to blame him for his tone. He is sure he would react worse if someone came to him and wanted to know about the Valkyrie out of the blue. Especially since Steve must be the last person in this tower that Tony would want to talk about is trauma to.

“No, I –” Steve shakes his head in frustration. “It’s like everything I say to you comes out wrong. It’s also hard not to make wrong assumptions when I know so little about you.”

“So I’m supposed to spill out my sad little life story to you, so next time you yell at me you can say something that actually hurts?” Tony scoffs. His expression tightens, making him look like he is one wrong word away from hitting Steve with the door after all. “Just a thought,” he adds in a scathing tone, “you could try that thing where you don’t assume the worst of me just because I exist.”

That is fair. Looking back, Steve can see how he did that every time Tony did, well, anything, whether he went off-script during a press release or changed plans mid-battle or just minded his own business in his own home. Steve likes to complain that people like Tony Stark are everything that is wrong with the future, but in a twisted way, Tony has become a sort of anchor for Steve, something to hold on to in this new century, even if it insults his sensibilities.

Taking a deep breath, Steve explains, “I would like to know so I can be aware of situations that are difficult for you even when you don’t want to say anything.” Remembering their misadventure in the lab, he adds, “Preferably before we get thrown into them.”

“Then read my file,” Tony says dismissively. His face remains twisted into something off-putting but his posture otherwise loosens a bit. “Natasha wrote it. It’s a fun ride.”

Steve knows about Natasha spying on Tony and not recommending him for the Avengers. That is not the main reason he disliked Tony from the very beginning, but it played a big part. If someone trained to read people assessed Tony as unfit to be a hero, Steve’s own feelings on the matter could not have been that wrong, after all.

“I want you to tell me what you’re ready for me to know,” Steve reasons, He thinks mentioning that he has read that file will not get them anywhere. “I’d hate to make things worse for you. I want us to trust each other.”

In the silence that follows, Tony stares at Steve like he has grown a second head. Internally, Steve has to agree with the incredulity he displays. Trust is a very far-fetched wish. Perhaps not laying into each other every time they meet would be a more sensible goal for now. Withdrawing now would only make things worse, though, so Steve keeps his face earnest and does not budge.

“If this is a heart on heart,” Tony finally says, obvious mocking in his tone, “I suppose you’re going to tell me all about yourself too?”

He looks smug, like he is sure he has won this argument, like he expects Steve will just clench his jaw and leave. Steve is so tempted to give him that, to turn around and tell Thor that he tried, at least. Instead, he inclines his head as if Tony’s request is completely reasonable. Perhaps it is. Trust is a two-way street after all.

“What do you want to know?” Steve asks, careful to keep his eyes on Tony, both to show he is serious and to not miss Tony’s reaction.

Tony does not disappoint. His eyes widen just a bit before they narrow. He looks at the empty hallway behind Steve as if he expects someone to jump out and call “Prank.” When nothing happens, his expression solidifies into something harder.

“How close were you really to my father?”

Taken aback, it is Steve’s turn to stare. He has expected a lot of things, accusations wrapped in insults or Tony hitting Steve’s insecurities with one well-placed remark. This, however – there is something raw on Tony’s face, making his question seem like it is an honest one.

Steve is very aware that he is still standing right out in the open. Normally, the hallway in front of the workshop is not a place where he would expect people showing up all of a sudden. Clint has developed a habit of coming here fairly often lately, though. This is not the right place to open his heart, but he can hardly ask Tony to let him in. This feels like a test.

“We weren’t –” Steve begins, resolved to answer Tony’s question to the best of his ability. It is not as easy as it seems. “I mean, he helped me out quite a lot. He made me my shield. He flew me into an active war zone once. He offered me shelter. He was a good man.”

For all that Steve has spent his first weeks after meeting Tony for signs of Howard in him, his relationship with the older Stark was not actually that close. Steve’s years in the war were a whirlwind of struggling to do what is right and survival. He has made meaningful friendships there, but Howard was not the type to sit around a campfire and share stories. He was always aiming to impress, which he certainly managed. Steve owes him a lot, but that is basically the farthest they ever got.  

“All my life, he compared me to you. I was never measuring up, of course,” Tony says, the light in his eyes fierce. “He made it sound like you two were the best of friends, off saving the world together. He was always so disappointed that I was just human, while you, apparently, didn’t have any flaws at all.”

Immediate protest jumps to Steve’s lips to defend Howard. Looking at Tony, though, he realizes that this does not sound awfully much out of character. Howard might have always been good at recognizing the value of things, but he has never been a man of the heart. The few times they talked about love and possible families were mostly spent with Steve gushing about Peggy without ever actually mentioning her name. Howard had been curiously impassionate about that topic, although Steve remembers the word legacy coming up.  He has never thought much about it since they had a war to fight.

“I didn’t know that,” Steve says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

He has meant for that to stop a possible argument before it can begin, but Tony does not look mollified, like he has been expecting a different answer.  

“Don’t apologize for my father’s failures,” Tony says, distinct irritation in his tone. “The thing is, he told me you wouldn’t like me. And then, the first thing we do after meeting for the first time? We lay into each other. We do everything short of starting an outright brawl. If not for Loki’s brilliant timing, I’m sure we would have gotten there sooner rather than later anyway.”

“That was the sceptre’s influence,” Steve says slowly, even while he is trying to process why Howard would sow discontent between his own son and a man who was reportedly dead. It does not make any sense, but Tony sounds upset enough that Steve does not question it for a second.

“Was it, though?” Tony asks, taking a small step forward as if to underline his argument. “I was already sure you’d hate me, and you were looking for signs of Howard in me. We were meant to clash.”

Put like that, Tony has a point. They never met each other from neutral positions. SHIELD’s introduction to the future alone had biased Steve.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do better now,” Steve says, willing himself to believe it. That is the whole reason for this little standoff; to start over. “You’re not your father, and I’m not just Captain America.”

Steve is sure Tony will say no. He looks like he already has a rejection on his tongue, ready to hurl it and cut Steve out of his life for good. For the first time, that thought has regret rising in Steve.

To his utter surprise, Tony closes his eyes briefly before nodding his head. “All right,” he says. He still sounds like it is an undesired chore, but Steve will take what he can get. “J, schedule a retelling of my sob story for tonight. My room. Take a nap, Cap, and bring some popcorn. It’ll take a while.”

Not waiting for an answer Tony does close the door in Steve’s face now albeit gently so. For a long moment, Steve remains rooted in space. This conversation went better than he expected, even if the worst part is still ahead of them. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve realized that he has to leave and build up enough courage to meet Tony again tonight. As if one time was not bad enough.

Just yesterday, though, he stumbled over Clint, Tony and Natasha sprawled over the couch in the living room, laughing loudly. He left before they could spot him, but their faces are burned into his memory. When he thinks of Tony smiling, he sees that shark-like thing Tony likes to throw at reporters, full of boundless confidence and the certainty that he is meant for higher things. This, however, has been different. Tony’s eyes had been bright, his face was curled into comfortable wrinkles.

Steve knows he will go to Tony’s room tonight and do his best to find an amicable way forward for them. Because, just once, he would want for Tony to smile at him that way.

Something is wrong. Clint notices that before he has even fully stepped into the kitchen. The only other person already there is Steve and he looks worn out, going through the motions of preparing breakfast with a far-away look on his face.

“Good morning,” Clint greets loudly, managing to startle Steve. While this would usually bring him satisfaction – everyone not named Natasha has a hard time trying to sneak up on their good Captain with his enhanced senses – it falls flat since Steve only mutters something under his breath and goes right back to mechanically scrambling eggs.

It is a mystery, and one that does not bode well for the team. They are slowly falling together, but another crisis, no matter of which nature, could set them back immensely. Clint does not ask, though, not immediately. People have nightmares and bad days. That does not mean their careful truce has to come apart.

Slowly, the rest of the team filters in. Natasha appears and drains Clint’s coffee before she goes and gets her own. She picks up on Steve’s mood immediately but does not say anything either, and merely throws a questioning glance at Clint. Bruce and Thor come in together, discussing what sounds like Asgardian tech. Of all of them, their friendship might have been the most surprising, considering Bruce’s rather shy and Thor’s boisterous nature. The more time passes, the more obvious becomes that it fits them.

Tony’s seat stays empty. That in itself is not very surprising. Their resident genius has never heard of a healthy sleep schedule or the concept of eating three meals a day. Sometimes he comes into the kitchen looking both wired and exhausted after an all-nighter to drown himself I coffee. Most of these days, Clint is sure he goes right back to the workshop. Other times, he sleeps until noon and is still cranky when someone dares to wake him.

He is very much unpredictable, and normally, Clint would not have paid much attention to Tony’s absence – they had lunch together the day before, so he has not holed up long enough to go blazing in with food and lectures. Steve’s behaviour, though, puts a new light on the scene. Every few moments, Steve’s eyes slid to Tony’s empty seat, which is just about the only interaction he has with anyone in the room. Otherwise, he just stares ahead and puts food into his mouth without sense or order.

Something, Clint decides, is definitely wrong. Just because he prefers to hit his problems with arrows until they go away does not mean he cannot be subtle, though, so Clint waits patiently until everyone is done eating. Then he looks meaningful at Natasha, inclining his head just so in Steve’s direction. Nothing changes in her demeanour, but, just a moment later, she herds Bruce and Thor out of the room under some excuse about training or some mission. Clint does not exactly listen because he is busy staring at Steve, who looks like he has not even noticed their departure.

“What’s going on with you?” Clint asks, turning in his seat to fully face Steve, who whips up his head, visibly surprised at being talked to.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” Steve says, frowning when he sees they are the only ones left in the kitchen.

With some impatience, Clint clicks his tongue. He wishes they could just skip the games. With two spies on the team, one old god, a man used to being on the run, and one taught to manipulate people, few secrets actually remain so in this tower.

“You’ve been jittery all morning,” Clint explains slowly, “watching the door as if you were waiting for a horde of doombots to fall in and devour us right there.”

For a moment, Steve looks like he would prefer that over talking to Clint. “That’s a disturbing image,” he says, aiming for a dry tone. “Also, JARVIS would have alarmed us if there were intruders.”

“Not my point,” Clint dismisses simply. “Stop trying to change the topic.”

Again, Steve’s eyes stray over to Tony’s empty seat. It is probably too much to ask for subtlety from someone walking around clad like the American flag.

“I –” Steve briefly bites his lower lip, avoiding to look at Clint. “I talked to Tony last night.”

Clint feels doubt pooling in the pit of his stomach. Those never just talk. Not without insults flying or battlefields being torn apart. “And the tower is still standing?”

A small frown appears on Steve’s forehead. “We didn’t argue. I asked about Afghanistan, as you advised. We just – talked.”

Clint very much hopes Steve did not open his line of questioning by mentioning Clint is responsible for it. Otherwise, all the progress between him and Tony might be destroyed. Again. “And?”

“And what?” Steve asks back, sounding almost irritated. That is not very promising.

Leaning forward, Clint asks pointedly, “Did you pressure him into it? How was he when you left?” Since Steve’s face darkens with each word, Clint adds with some humour, “Can we expect mum and dad to stop arguing so much?”

“I believed him,” Steve says with deliberate firmness.

Disappointment spreads through Clint. This was not the right answer. Questioning whether Tony’s trauma actually happened has never been the intention behind nudging Steve to take an interest in his teammate’s stories. This was supposed to make things better, to help them understand each other more.

“I hope that’s not all you took away from that?”

“No. I mean – He’s such a good actor. There is nothing in his file about it, and Natasha’s report too shows him as he was before.” A degenerate and careless billionaire then. “But the way he talked about it – I guess he should be more messed up.”

“He’s a Stark,” Clint says, unsure whether he wants to say that this means Tony is hereditarily a mess or that he just cannot allow himself to seem like one, no matter how he truly is. Leaving every party drunk and with two women in his arms might cause shocking headlines, but in the end, that is what people expect from Stark, what they want to hear. Actual trauma, PTSD – that is still not something publicly discussed. More so, Tony likely does not even admit suffering from it to himself.

Steve looks down at his empty plate, rearranging the cutlery with a thoughtful expression. “How do you know about all of that?” he then asks, sounding lost.

Clint could almost pity him for that. “None of us knows all of it,” he says. “I’ve never had a heart-to-heart with Tony either. It’s just obvious something bad happened.”

Then again, perhaps it is not. Steve lived in a way and never got to go home afterwards. The forties were not exactly a time where people could get help for dealing with trauma. Back then, soldiers went home and had to get back to their lives. And if they did not, it was them who were faulty.

“You didn’t know him before,” Clint continues, knowing Tony’s playboy times will come up sooner rather than later. “I’m pretty sure a lot of his flashiness then was an act to, but one he lived fully. Afterwards, it wasn’t just SI’s weapons division that burned. Tony has a lot of issues. Some of them you could write down as a rich person’s quirks, but not all of them and not with how quickly he developed them.”

Clint wonders whether Steve is now cataloguing all the little tells that show Tony Stark is absolutely not fine, no matter how easily he seems to pretend. There are the fake smiles that have become so much sharper, and the instinctive motions to protect the arc reactor whenever he is in an argument, and the way he always fully faces an enemy although he must have been taught to always give an attacker as little chance to land a hit as possible.

Judging on the frown Steve is still sporting, though, leniency towards Tony’s character is still a way off.

“Why doesn’t he tell anyone, then?” Steve asks. “If he has changed, why does he keep up the act?”

The hypocrisy of that has Clint wanting to hit something. He almost wants to snarl back and remind Steve of how much he is not talking about his problems either. Everybody knows about the picture of Peggy Carter he sometimes takes out before a fight, or how he likes to sit up on the roof of the tower, too close to the edge, or how he spends their time out carefully not looking at how New York’s skyline has changed.

Nobody on this team knows how to deal healthily with trauma. Nobody just talks about it. Just because Tony’s life is much more public then theirs, much flashier and unforgiving, does not mean that he should get pressured by his own team on top of the rest of the world. No one cares for how the rest of them deals with their shit as long as they function out in the field. Tony, though, has to get up and face the masses. No one ever said being a Stark is easy.

“Tony has more than himself to think about,” Clint finally says, unsure how to make Steve understand that. Where he comes from, media coverage was nothing like it is today. One wrong word now and so much of one’s lifework can go up in flames. “How he acts and holds himself has an influence on his company and thousands of people working for him. He can’t just take a break from being himself. He can’t just become someone else.”

“He did, though,” Steve argues. “He stopped making weapons.”

“And Stark Industries only survived because Tony worked day and night to keep it afloat.” When Natasha came back from her assignment at SI, she had been impressed by that, by Tony’s willingness to run himself ragged for his company despite his obvious character flaws. “If he had changed who he is at the same time, neither he nor the company would have had a chance. People knew two things back then: that SI makes the best weapons and that Tony Stark is an incorrigible playboy.”

Clint understands the concept of masks, he grew up in a circus, after all. He does not particularly like it, nor does he have any patience for it, but he sees how they can be useful and necessary at times. Also, Tony has been donning his less and less when in Clint’s presence. That helps.

“Clint,” Steve says suddenly, sounding urgent, “what are you afraid of?”

The question catches Clint off-guard. They are talking about Tony here not him, and especially not about what Clint might hypothetically fear.

“I very much hope this is not how you started the conversation with Tony,” he replies dryly, buying himself time with a joke. “But in case that is, in fact, how you’re doing this, please let me be there when you ask Nat. It’ll be fun to watch her take you down.”

Steve does not smile. “No, I mean now. You’ve been disliking Tony for the longest time too, but now you’re defending him the loudest.”

Holding in a curse, Clint stares hardly at Steve. He is so tired of this, of walking in circles. Being thrown together as Fury did to them might have not been easy, but it is long enough, and they have done enough good, that it should not be too much to ask for them to just suck it up and become a team already.

“Tony’s still an asshole,” Clint says slowly, “but underneath that he is kind and loyal, and he deserves getting backup from us.”

Deliberately not looking at Steve’s reaction – because it might come to blows if he sees any doubt on Steve’s face, and contrary to public opinion he is not reckless enough to initiate a fistfight with a supersoldier without his bow or Natasha nearby – Clint gets up and gathers some bread and left-over pancakes on a plate.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks, sounding surprised that their conversation is cut short. Clint thinks it has been going on for far too long already. He is not the type to explain everything in excruciating detail.

“To check up on Tony,” Clint says, rolling his eyes because that should have been obvious. “He’s the kind to bury his trauma. Spilling his guts doesn’t help with that.” He knows that intimately.

“I didn’t think –” Steve starts but Clint is tired of this.

“You’ve got us for that,” he interrupts with fake cheer. “You keep pointing us at where we need to hit stuff, and we’ll do the picking up again afterwards.”

He only realizes that might have been a bit harsh when Steve’s face falls. Things are not perfect, but Steve is trying, Clint has to concede that at least. They are all more or less stumbling around attempting to make this work. He is not going to offer an apology, but perhaps he will hold his tongue next time.

To his utter surprise, Steve gets to his feet too, expression morphing into something cautious. “Can I come with you?” he asks quietly. “I mean, you’re right, someone should probably check up on him. And I should –”

Make more of an effort, Clint thinks but does not say it. Instead, he shrugs. “Suit yourself. Might do you two some good to have a buffer for your enormous egos there with you. Pack more of those pancakes. I’ll take the eggs.”

[scriptlgbt]

This question was submitted due to length, and the answer I gave was much longer. So it’s going under a readmore!

Submitted by Tay [no url given]. 

Content includes these topics/ideas:

- sex/sexuality (including cultural perceptions of it re: the LGBT+ community - now and in more recent history) - marriage as a marker of when sex is ok (and talk about how this attitude has interacted with the community)

- concepts of virginity

Asked:

“Hi, there. I’m going to start off by saying that I am bi myself however I am ousted from every LGBT community I know in real life because I believe in sex after marriage, or if the couple is making plans for marriage. Where I am, over half of the straight community is the same way.

However, every LGBT community here I know in real life, well, most aren’t virgins, and those that were soon weren’t. Also pretty much all of them mention multiple sex partners as well. Therefore I’m pretty much on the outside of the community because they can’t even believe I could consider myself bi until after I experiment.

Therefore I figured I could write a story about the kind of experience I have had. But since I don’t truly know the community well, especially only local communities, I’m not sure if I really understand them.

Also, from reading things from LGBT communities online, I find that a lot of them say no one has to experiment to know your orientation, which is a complete 180 than what I’ve experienced locally. Perhaps I didn’t meet enough people in my community, but I am sure annoyed by the fact they insist that experimenting is required.

I have asked many of them if they had even been in a straight relationship, and when some of them say no, I respond with how do you know? They say they just do. The others who have said yes, realized something was wrong, and only later after experiencing with the same sex realized they were gay. As for the ones who are bi, like I am, all thought they were either straight or gay because they had already been having sexual relationships and then found out they were bi after experimenting with the other gender.

So therefore, I am looking for information that address this issue, preferably worldwide and people from all ages as well as to how prevalent, non existing, or hush hush this is.

Also, I’d like to mention that observing straight people and their attitudes to sex before marriage is sometimes because of religion. However, religion seems to have no effect on LGBT people, the attitudes towards sex before marriage is the same no matter how religious or non religious they are or even which religion.”

Answer:

  First I want to say that it sucks that people have discounted your identity based on what you decide regarding your own body. What you’re describing is very much biphobia (or bimisia) and you shouldn’t be made to feel like you have to ‘prove’ who you are to anyone. Yourself knowing who you are, that’s enough. You are bi and nobody can take that from you. As for the community, I know what you are describing. Maybe it might help to tell you that you are part of the community no matter who you associate with or don’t associate with. Lots of folks feel like they don’t belong with folks who share their identities. That’s okay and totally normal. You aren’t obligated to be the same as the next bi person either. You’re still you, you’re still bi.

  I know it feels alienating, and I know that this might not feel all that positive to hear. But part of what makes our community empowering to so many (ideally anyway - obviously this isn’t a universal thing) is that it is diverse as heck and in the best of cases (I’m not trying to say this actually happens even most of the time), we have each other’s backs. If you don’t want to have sex you’re still you.

  With that said, I think you might want to know, a lot of (I’d argue most maybe, depending where you go) other people in the community don’t feel comfortable using the term “virgin” because it implies that someone is a different person somehow before and/or after sex. And that it’s something that can be taken, like someone is more of a person when they don’t have sex, or like they carry some kind of burden or something they want to get rid of. Neither of those ideas are really comfortable to have projected onto you without your consent. No matter who’s using it, the term usually carries some kind of good/bad judgement of someone else. But the fact of the matter is that everyone should feel empowered to make their own decisions with their bodies and sex lives. You aren’t more or less of a person, no matter what decision you make. (Also, I’m not going to get into this more, but there are survivors of some really horrible things who are triggered by this phrasing.)

  This isn’t a judgement on you - I know it’s a big topic and not covered all that well by many people anymore. I could be wrong, or it might be who I hang around, but it feels like there was a lot of conversation on this around 2010 or so and it fizzled out in 2 years because people assumed everyone who was going to get it, already got it. (Which is ridiculous, especially because how diverse our ages, backgrounds are - you’d think we would want to be more welcoming for folks just entering the community to understand this stuff.)

  And to be super clear, you’re totally welcome to self refer this way if you want! It is your body, it’s your identity, it’s your call. But there’s a lot of baggage with this term, so you might want to check with other people on how they feel before using that term. Some people might feel either more pressured to have sex (because of wanting to get rid of the term) or more pressured to avoid sex that they do want for fear of judgement. 

  Neither of those really inspires healthy consent practices.

  To get back to the questions, I think what you’ve heard from people online (that experimenting is not required) is probably what’s believed by most community members who are actively at the forefront of these kinds of discussions, on a wider scale.   Local communities vary a lot, and things like internet, language, community access, geography, culture, etc, will all make how people feel locally different. Some communities have had their traditional teachings about sex taken away and replaced with other teachings. There’s a lot of variety. Some communities have been forced to move forward or backward on some issues and differently on others.

  The idea that experimenting is necessary is usually something people say only to people who are LGBT+, not people who are straight and cis. It’s because straight and cis are seen as the default. If you don’t need to prove that, then you shouldn’t need to prove that you’re different either. I think that this is pretty common sentiment, but I think the views of folks in the community are generally more skewed towards this in cities than rural, and it depends on the cities as well. (I’m also talking about my own perspective as a former rural person who moved to a city as an adult.) And what’s said online is a lot more in sync with what people in cities believe because there are more people to immediately jump in and say something than there is if you’re walking around a small hometown with friends who haven’t either had access to or desire to connect with folks with differing opinions. 

There’s a kind of isolation and ruralism that divides communities in ways I think a lot of people don’t pick up on, even when it might seem obvious once you think about it.

   Other stuff to look into, I think, would be how the AIDS crisis, marriage equality, and currently in the west; how representation in children’s cartoons and similar affected and currently affects discussions around these topics.

  Marriage equality was always an issue (when/where it was an issue) but it was never the core of it. Throughout history, it’s more been about feeling normal as your whole self. Marriage equality was one aspect of that, but the biggest reason that movement really picked up more steam (in the west, during the 70s-10s) was because during the AIDS crisis, visitation rights for people on their deathbeds was far too often reserved for people legally considered to be family. This meant people who were married. A lot of people died alone. 

The whole marital vs non-marital sex thing has kind of been a moot point in most places where marriage was illegal anyway. 

I know there’s more to be said about how marriage equality has been just as much an issue of racial equality as economic class, and LGBT+ equality. Miscegenation laws, costs associated with marriage certificates and things like hiring someone like a notary(?) to ratify it legally is also a thing. 

There’s also how things like ‘common law marriage’ recognition make marriage a bit more subjective in definition too, along with civil unions and other legally recognized partnerships.

During the AIDS crisis, and in desperation, there became this push by some for palatability to cis, straight lawmakers to validate marriage equality so that people could be with their partners when they died. There were people throwing each other under the bus this way and that, and a lot of pushback from people in the community about how they didn’t want to sacrifice who they were, who/how they loved, in order to be respected.

Somewhat relevant is this quote someone shared around the time George Michael died.

In 1998, [George] Michael released “Outside,” which flicked at his arrest six months earlier in a public bathroom and prompted his coming out. The video cheekily features him dressed as an LAPD officer. In 2005 he addressed his inclination to shine a light on uncomfortable issues, telling The Guardian, “Gay people in the media are doing what makes straight people comfortable, and automatically my response to that is to say I’m a dirty filthy f—er and if you can’t deal with it, you can’t deal with it.”

Source

  Heteronormativity, and the forceful nature of it, pushed us to feel the need to divide each other by our sex lives. To divert blame and accountability for oppression inward to our own community. It was/is victim blaming.

  In all that, there’s been a lot of polarization. It feels like it’s hard to find someone with a neutral view on sex on the whole in our communities because we’re constantly being put on the spot and expected to have a ~hot take~ and be constantly defending whatever we do or don’t do (or do for atypical reasons) with our bodies.

  I don’t want to act like I’m better than anyone for feeling differently, and I completely understand where everyone is coming from and the reasons we succumb to the constant battles we’re being placed in against our true interests.

 The reality of the matter, is that everybody has a different relationship with sexuality. Everyone has a different experience, or lack thereof (and that’s okay). Some are more similar or different amongst each other than others. There’s no universal “sex is healthy” or “sex is unhealthy” because it’s like everything else out there. There’s cases where it is either, neither, or both even just in one act. It’s okay to feel whatever you feel about it. We need more nuanced discussions about this stuff that actually accounts for the diversity of it all.

And if whatever you’re doing or not doing feels wrong to you somehow, I hope you feel empowered to work through what’s going on. But it’s not a problem to be really into sex or repulsed, or whatever you feel at a given moment. Every variation of this is healthy for somebody. As long as everybody is consenting, that’s what matters.

I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, but I definitely wouldn’t say that’s a universal sentiment, especially judging by the sheer mass of horrible and ignorant things people have said to me/about me as an asexual person who has a lot of sex. But that’s a tangent.

I’m not sure if this explicitly answers your questions, but I hope it helps provide some general things to consider within your writing. There’s pretty much never a full consensus within the LGBT+ community about anything. At most there’s common sentiment.

- mod nat

[galaxystiel]

100 Ways To Say ‘I Love You’ #56

“It brings out your eyes.”

Summary: Head Chef Dean Winchester has been waiting for years for renowned food critic Castiel Novak to visit his restaurant. [AO3]

Castiel glanced over the menu with a raised eyebrow. As the most renowned food critic in the Midwest, he’d seen his fair share of extravagant menus. Some of them had delivered on it, others had not. This one was promising, and he had high hopes it would deliver the absolute perfection he had come to anticipate in his line of work.

Seeing the server approach, Castiel set down his menu and picked up the wine list, glancing over it briefly. Since he’d be sampling mostly red meat that evening, he selected a nice Barolo to accompany his meal. He smiled politely at the server, a redhead woman who had a slight pinch between her brows despite her perfect smile. Her eyes remained on Castiel’s face as she scrawled on her notebook, as if she was trying to place where she recognised him.

“I’ll just get your wine for you, sir, and be back to take your order.” She disappeared for a few moments, leaving Castiel to glance around the restaurant.

It was a warm décor, rich reds and golds, the surfaces of the tables and bar giving a more rustic feel to the restaurant. The owner and head chef, one Dean Winchester had worked hard to build Petit Impala from nothing. He’d succeeded in a competitive business and it was damn near impossible to get a table. Even now, he could see the busy servers running around an almost-full dining room.

When the server – Charlie, Castiel noted from her nametag – returned with his wine, Castiel reached for the glass, swirling the burgundy liquid and holding it under his nose, inhaling deeply. He took a small sip, allowing the subtle flavours to envelope his palate. Rich, full-bodied, exactly what he wanted. He could even taste the rose tar undertone and the dried herbs in the aftertaste.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he murmured, settling the glass back down so Charlie could pour.

“Thank you,” she hesitated for a moment and then gave an awkward giggle, leaning down. “Sorry to bother you, but I was trying to decide if it was you or not… are you Castiel Novak, the food critic?”

Castiel didn’t reply immediately, raising his eyebrow. He’d expected to be recognised before he left, but he hadn’t expected it to happen quite like this.

“I have your book,” Charlie continued, babbling as she set the bottle down. “It was so fascinating, and I know that Dean, that’s the head chef, he’s obsessed with your reviews, he reads everything you ever print. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m talking too much. May I take your order?”

“Ah, yes. I’ll have the veal sweetbreads to start, followed by the roast pigeon.” Castiel handed his menu back over and leaned in. “Listen, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that I was here. This is supposed to be an anonymous review, after all.”

“Oh absolutely,” Charlie assured him, with a wide-eyed panic on her face that Castiel just knew meant the entire staff would know the second she was out of his sight. With a sigh, he nodded to let her leave and pulled out his notebook. Well, there was no point in being discreet now after all.

Dean stood at the pass, surveying the kitchen with satisfaction. Everyone knew their stations, knew exactly what they were doing. He was startled when Charlie burst into the kitchen with a new order, but he reached out to take it from her, ignoring her excited babbling. He was used to it by now.

“Order up! Table twelve, one sweetbreads, one pigeon. What is it, Charlie?” He asked exasperatedly, tugging his sleeve free from her grasp.

“It’s a critic. Castiel Novak is here, that’s his table.”

Dean’s head snapped around to look at her and he stalked to the door, eyes narrowed as he looked over at table twelve. There was no doubt about it, that was absolutely Castiel Novak. He pursed his lips, thinking.

“Alright,” he raised his voice, commanding the attention of his staff. Last order of one sweetbreads, one pigeon? This is now the most important dish you will ever make in your life. There’s a food critic in the restaurant, Castiel Novak no less. If anyone screws this dish, they’ll be out on their ass. Get it?”

“Yes, Chef!” His kitchen chorused, and Dean’s eyes flickered from the appetizers station and Balthazar working hurriedly, to the meat station and Benny. He nodded, mostly to himself. Castiel’s food was in good hands, Benny was one of the best chefs he’d ever hired, and Balthazar was more than capable.

He spent a few moments deliberating and then nodded to Charlie. “Keep an eye on him, refill his wine, get him anything he asks for. Let him know I’ll bring his food out myself. I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time.”

Charlie raised her eyebrow but didn’t object, just left the kitchen. Dean returned to his position at the pass, keeping a watchful eye on the dining room whenever he had the chance.

Charlie approached shortly after she returned to the dining room, a slightly guilty look on her expression. “Chef has requested to personally bring your food out.”

Castiel gave a small sigh and shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.” He’d have to mention it in his review and it wouldn’t reflect favourably.

“He insisted,” Charlie pressed. “I’m sure it’s not meant as an attempt at influencing your review. Dean always says his food speaks for itself. He just wants to meet you, is all.”

Castiel bit back a smile and inclined his head. “Well, in that case, who am I to disappoint him? I’d be honoured to shake his hand if his food is as good as rumours dictate.”

“It’s better,” Charlie promised him, excusing herself to check on her other tables.

His sweetbreads arrived in record time, of course. Their arrival was preceded by the opening of the kitchen door and a tall, outrageously handsome man exited, He was dressed all in white, a white apron tied around his waist, and he was clutching a silver platter.

“It’s a pleasure to have the great Castiel Novak in my restaurant,” Dean smiled, setting down a plate and a small jug of a dark, viscous liquid in front of him. “I’m honoured. I’ve been trying to get you here for years.”

Castiel gave a polite smile and inclined his head. “Well, here I am. What opinion do you hold of the dishes I ordered?”

“Now, now, Castiel, isn’t that quite a biased question?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, his smile turning into a brief smirk as one corner pulled up higher than the other. “You’re in my restaurant, all of the dishes are no less than perfect. Surely you wouldn’t expect me to talk down some of my dishes and suggest you should have ordered something else?”

Castiel hid his own widening smile by taking a small sip of his wine, peering at Dean over the top of the glass enigmatically. “Perhaps not,” he conceded. “Let me rephrase. Which is your favourite of the dishes? Say if you were to bring a loved one here, a spouse maybe. What would you recommend they order?”

“The sweetbreads, absolutely,” Dean admitted, stroking his chin as he thought about it. They were one of his bestsellers. “The pigeon is good but I think I would have suggested the turbot. The jus gras is to die for. Purely a matter of personal preference, of course.”

“Hmm,” Castiel mused. “And your chefs? Do I have the honour of your personal culinary prowess today?”

“Unfortunately not. But my chefs are an extension of me and they are more than capable of attending to your every need,” Dean replied smoothly, giving Castiel a daring wink.

To his horror, Castiel could feels his cheeks slowly turning red. He took another sip of his wine and cleared his throat. “A shame.”

Dean’s smile grew wider. “I’ll leave you to your dinner, Castiel, but I’ll make you a deal. If you order dessert? I’ll make it personally.” He returned to the kitchen, leaving Castiel slightly flushed, distracted completely from the meal sitting in front of him.

The food was delicious, of course. Castiel couldn’t fault a single thing. The sweetbreads were delicious, tender and creamy, the way they should be. The richness of the accompanying madeira sauce and the subtle nutty flavour of the celeriac served with it created a balance of flavours that was practically obscene on Castiel’s tongue.

He could see Charlie paying close attention as he ate, without looking knew that there would be people pressed up against the kitchen door, watching him through the small window. A food critic always caused a big stir, and Castiel knew he had quite the following. His reviews had been the make-or-break for a lot of restaurants over the years.

When he was finished, he allowed Charlie to take his plate and refill his wine, and picked up his pencil thoughtfully.

Charlie burst into the kitchen, her eyes wide. She’d been too busy attending to her tables to catch Dean since his little conversation with Castiel, but she needed to talk to him now.

“Are you mad?” She screeched, over the bustle of the kitchen. “Dean, you’re flirting with the food critic. If he takes offence, he’s never going to eat here again. He’ll put us out of business, you know how vicious some of his reviews have been just because he didn’t like the sauce or his steak was overdone.”

“Well gee, thanks,” Dean huffed, his brows knit together with mock-offence. “I’m not gonna scare off the damn critic, Charlie. It’s fine. It’s just a little conversation between courses. This is how I am, I’m charming.”

Charlie fixed him with her best not-amused look. “Yeah, you better hope he thinks so too, I’m gonna be pissed if I’m out of a job because of you, Winchester.”

Dean smirked at her. “He will. I’m irresistible.”

Charlie just rolled her eyes and swept back into the dining room, as Dean called for service on table twenty-one.

Dean focused on preparing meals for other tables, letting thoughts of the pressure created by having a food critic in his dining room slip from his mind. He worked steadily, and he worked hard. He adhered to the same standards he set for his staff, it created respect and made it easier to recognise when demands were unreasonable and when people were slacking.

“Table twelve?” He called out when Castiel’s table came up. “Pigeon! Now, please!”

“Behind you, Chief,” Benny replied loudly, setting down the pan beside him and ducking out of the way as the garnishes arrived.

Dean scrutinised the pigeon for a few moments, before nodding with satisfaction. “Great job, Benny, great job all round guys.” He assembled the plate and took a deep breath before sweeping out of the kitchen, Castiel’s entree in hand.

Unlike before, Castiel smiled at his approach and greeted him softly, with familiarity. “Dean,” he smiled, peering at the plate in his hand. “That smells good.”

Dean laughed and set the plate down, letting Castiel have a more thorough look at the dishes. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to tell me that.”

A twinkle in his eye, Castiel turned his attention back to the chef. “No, I’m just not allowed to tell you if I think it tastes good. Technically. You’ll have to wait for the review to be printed.”

“I guess I’ll just have to keep my fingers crossed till then.” He teased. “Let Charlie know if you’d like to order dessert and I’ll whip you up your own Winchester special. Enjoy your meal.”

He returned to the kitchen, a wide smile on his face and returned to work. A little while later, Charlie stuck her head in the kitchen and called for him.

“Castiel wants a dessert. He says, and I quote, ‘tell him to surprise me’.”

Dean grinned. That, he could definitely do.

Castiel was feeling a little more relaxed after two amazing courses and the same number glasses of wine. He was sated, not too full. There was still room for a little something sweet, although he wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage the full thing. And yet, he would be insane to turn down the offer of a dessert cooked by the head chef. Dean Winchester certainly knew his trade, creator of all  dishes included on the menu, and to have something solely cooked by him was a privilege few were afforded.

He waited patiently, sipping his third – and last – glass of wine. A lot of ethics had been broken here today, but he wasn’t all that surprised. He’d been wary of reviewing this restaurant in the first place, the reason he’d refused to for so long. A lot of his review could only be ethically acceptable if he disclosed the special treatment he’d been afforded. Of course, he took his job seriously and was honest to a fault. His critique would reflect that completely.

He glanced up when Dean left the kitchen, to see him clutching a silver cloche, covering whatever his dessert was meant to be. Noting the huge shit-eating grin on Dean’s face, he could only assume that whatever the dessert was, it was going to surprise him.

“Bon appetite,” Dean grinned cheekily, lifting the lid of the cloche.

Castiel peered at the small domed dessert with an intrigued expression, tilting his head curiously. Whatever it was lay on a crumb base, and had been covered in a bright blue mirror glaze.

“It’s a tonka mousse on a dark chocolate crumb base,” Dean volunteered, before he could ask. “It’s on the menu, don’t worry. I didn’t give you any special treatment. The only difference is that the glaze is usually pink.”

“Why blue?” Castiel asked.

“It brings out your eyes,” Dean murmured, taking a step back and returning to the kitchen without another word.

Castiel stared at the dessert for a long moment, before giving in and taking a spoonful. Naturally, it was divine. Not too sweet, not too bitter. The high cocoa content of the chocolate was masked by the flavour of the tonka bean in the mousse. Despite previously worrying that he wouldn’t have room for the dessert, there was nothing left on his plate at the end.

He sat back, satisfied and very full. This had been a very successful visit, and he would be lucky if he didn’t have to unbutton his slacks for the taxi home. Flagging down Charlie, he asked her for the check as he wrote more scrawled notes in his book. He’d type it all up when he got home and it would hopefully hit the papers by the morning.

When the bill was paid and he’d left Charlie a sizeable tip, he tilted his head as he asked if it would be possible to speak to Dean once again before his departure. Dean seemed to have been expecting this, and emerged from the kitchen quite quickly.

“How was the dessert?” He asked sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get my smooth talk on and be unprofessional. I just couldn’t help it, you just looked so gorgeous sitting there, enjoying my food, and…”

Castiel smiled, reaching out and pressing a finger to Dean’s lips to shush him. “The dessert was perfect and you were great. I’d have to include this in my review anyway, you knew that. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that I was coming.”

“I’m not mad,” Dean assured him. “I’ve been trying to get you to come visit me at work for years. I should get back to the kitchen. I’ll see you at home?”

“I’ll be waiting,” Castiel promised, leaning in and brushing their lips together sweetly. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away immediately, leaning in for a second, lingering kiss and only pulling away when he heard a squeak and the sound of breaking glass.

They turned and Charlie was standing there with a broken wine glass at her feet, staring between them with wide eyes.

“I think that’s my excuse to leave,” Castiel laughed, withdrawing from Dean’s embrace and stepping back. As he turned to leave, he heard Charlie shriek.

“What do you mean Castiel Novak is your husband?”

He threw back his head in laughter as the door closed behind him.

“Dining at Petit Impala was an experience I will never forget. The rustic, warm décor was as inviting and welcoming as its servers. From the second I entered, I was made to feel welcomed, like no request was too big or too small. The food itself was nothing short of divine. Balanced flavours, beautiful colours left Head Chef Dean Winchester’s plates to be nothing short of a delight, both aesthetically and culinarily. The food I ordered left me with the indulgent feeling of dining out, while providing me with the comfort of a homecooked meal.

I cannot, in all good conscience, claim this to be an unbiased report, as a marriage of six years to the Head Chef in question puts me in an ethically difficult position when it comes to Petit Impala. The best thing I can say is to try it for yourself, if you question my judgement. If my bias concerns you, however, let it be known that I choose to eat the food my husband prepares every day, at home. I can offer no bigger compliment than that.”

Castiel nuzzled into Dean’s neck and pressed a few sucking kisses there, trying to thoroughly distract him from the review in the morning paper.

“Cas, come on, cut it out, I’m trying to read,” Dean laughed, but he tilted his head to the side to give Castiel more access, in direct contrast to his words.

“Read it later,” Castiel mumbled, sliding a hand under the covers and thoroughly capturing Dean’s attention. “Sex now.”

The paper slipped from Dean’s hands, fluttering to the floor as Dean climbed on top of Castiel, kissing him thoroughly.

“Maybe it’s my turn to be doing the tasting,” he teased, bursting into laughter as Castiel shoved at him, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“That was terrible," he groaned. "Never say anything like that again.”

Dean laughed again, leaning in and nipping at Castiel’s lip. “You love me.”

Castiel gazed up at him and unable to help himself, smiled widely. “Yeah, I do.”

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