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sunspray-peak · 11 months

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Ch. 59: Easy

SATURDAY - WINTER 13

As much as Achilles loathed the snow, it had proven to have somehow gifted him a rather peaceful and productive series of days. Though perhaps it was less the snow, and more… Alex. Nothing else—no one else, really—he’d encountered in Stardew had quite managed to calm the rollercoaster of this past year as well as Alex had.

Was he thinking about him? Likely not—the kiss he’d left behind had been, objectively, clearly more jest than anything else. Regardless, Achilles hadn’t allowed idle speculation to distract him from the duties at hand. Holed up in the temperate climate of his well-heated home, he had neglected to shovel his 2 acres of land, opting instead to sit at his desk with a cat in his lap and a pen in his hand. It wasn’t a novel he was writing, however—no, his brain still refused to respond in that regard—but letters. Letters to family, letters to old friends, letters to himself.

But the blinding, glowing sun cutting through his windows early Saturday morning had managed to melt with its golden cheer even his hatred for the cold. And so, shortly after 6am, Achilles threw on a robe and made himself a cup of tea before tottering his stiff joints to the front door. A breath of fresh air couldn’t hurt. Perhaps he’d do some bird watching on the porch or… something.

But it seemed that someone else had had similar ideas.

“What the fuck—god dammit—” This was really getting out of hand—really ought to get a lid for your mugs at this rate, or a thermos… Achilles wiped his sodden sleeve across his porch swing’s wooden plank of an armrest. It did not help, and now his hand was scraped as well as scalded. “Really, Alex we ought to put a bell on you, with this little habit of yours, just loitering around on my porch—you can knock, you know.”

“Oh—geez, I’m sorry, not my fault you’re so jumpy, I’m sorry—I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake—”

“I’m always awake. It’s a real problem.” Achilles clicked his tongue and nodded for Alex to take a seat on the swing before noticing the six inches of snow piled on the cushion. “Come inside. I suppose I’ll have to make myself another cup now, would you like one?”

“Oh. No, I can’t stay long. First day on the new job, wanna get there early… I just wanted to… stop by. Say hi.”

“Oh yes! Mr. Manager.” Achilles glanced to the east where the bus stop lay beyond the borders of Strawberry Farms. Even shielding his eyes, he still had to squint to make out Alex’s halting footsteps breaking up the otherwise untouched snow. “Damn. You trudged through all that just to say hi?”

“Well, in my defense, I expected you to’ve shoveled the path.”

“Yikes. Me? Big mistake—”

“—yeah, I see that now—”

“—I assumed it’d be, I don’t know, a government responsibility. How long does it take snow to melt?”

“Why would the government be shoveling the snow on your farm, Ash?”

“I don’t know, listen, I hail from desert country—”

“Ohhhh, I see, did the government shovel sand out of your driveway in Monstera? Because you might just be getting that mixed up with being rich.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right…” Achilles chucked a halfheartedly constructed snowball that Alex easily dodged. “Now what do you want? Everything okay? What brings you lurking like a gremlin on my porch this early in the morning?”

“No, everything’s fine, I was just… hoping to catch you.”

“Well. You caught me.” Achilles glanced down at his still-wet sleeve. It was too cold for this, and he likely needed a bandage.

Alex bit his lip before reaching into his coat—Yoba, really, it was quite unfair how one could make such a simple, innocent little hand motion look so seductive. He withdrew a pale green envelope and offered it forward. “I, um. I wrote you a letter—”

“Did you steal that from Lewis? I swear he has the same stationary—”

“—I just figured I’d hand deliver it since, you know, you never open your dang mail, you punk.”

“A thing like that! You know, that’s probably the most considerate thing a person has ever done for me this whole year.” With a squirrelly little smile, Achilles slipped his pointer finger smoothly under the envelop flap before catching sight of Alex staring rather alarmingly wide-eyed, as if petrified, at the letter between his hands. “Or… shall I open it later?”

“Oh—um—no, that’s all right, you can go ahead. Actually, no—yes. Later. Actually, you know what, I’ll just read it to you.”

Bemused but chuckling lightly, Achilles offered the envelope back. But Alex only shook his head.

“Man, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m sorry. I’ll just tell you what it says.”

“So… no one’s opening the letter…?”

Alex shook his head again, ran a hand through his hair—a few strands broke loose from whatever gel or product he must’ve used to style it this morning. Being manager demanded a fresh new look, it seemed, but Achilles bit back his smile—didn’t seem appropriate, given that Alex seemed close to hyperventilating on his front porch.

Instead, Achilles pocketed the letter, which seemed to be the main source of Alex’s unusually pale visage, and asked, “Are you… okay…? You sure you don’t… want some… tea?”

And just like that, it was as if a light switch had been flicked. Alex smiled and, cocking his head slightly, chirped, “Would you like to get dinner tonight?

“What?” Achilles took half a second to register the dissonance regarding the degree of joy that had accompanied this rather banal question. He’d been expecting something much more dramatic—Lewis’ last will and testament, perhaps… “Dinner? …Sure. Is any place going to be open, though? With all the snow? Still seems quite deep.”

“Yeah, the government does actually shovel public property, if you must know—”

“All right—”

“I checked with Gus on the way here, the Stardrop’s open. If that works. For you.”

“What time?”

Alex blinked several times before asking, “6:30?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah?”

“…yeah…”

Alex beamed. “Wow! Really? Great! Really great! Um. I’ll see you then!”

Achilles nodded slowly, his wet sleeve forgotten as his brain worked to stymie the confusion currently sweeping his brain as Alex bounded off the porch and nearly half-skipped off the farm. It was quite a few minutes before he retreated back indoors, where he promptly curled himself onto his couch beneath the portrait of two root vegetables and continued to think.

Alex, on the other hand, was halfway through his very first day as Orange Grove Fitness’ new manager before realizing that both the conversation he had spent all night constructing and the letter he had spent all morning writing had been completely devoid of quite a number of choice key words. And right at the end of his lunch break! Head buried atop his new desk, a ham and cheese sandwich scrunched in his fist as his (Achilles’) watch struck 2…

“Oh, you stupid idiot, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Date. How in the heckity heck did you miss the word—”

*****

This was a date.

Surely, Alex had been asking him out on a date.

Now he hadn’t said the word date. But the man wouldn’t have chewed straight through his lip or hiked two miles through half-shoveled snow to hand deliver a hand written note just to ask Achilles to a simple dinner. Right? They’d had dinner a million times, there was definitely something different to this one. Right?

Stay calm, bitch!

The clues were clear—Achilles had written them down in his notebook to better organize his thoughts, and even if he set aside his own feelings, the whole situation was still quite objectively suspect. An ordinary request such as this would not have required such extra-ordinary efforts if the aforementioned ordinary request was, in actuality, an ordinary request. RIGHT?

But it just seemed so… sudden. Surely a near-platonic peck on the nose couldn’t have triggered something to this extent? He had hoped the letter would be more explicit, but it unfortunately hadn’t revealed much either.

Hi Achilles! Hope you enjoyed your first ever snow day. Or snow week, really. How many crosswords did you get done? I bet you made the most of it, but if you didn’t, that’s cool, too.

I know this mihgt seem really sudden, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot these past couple of days, and I would love if you met me in the saloon tonight for dinner. 6:30pm if that works.

Hope to see you then! :-)

Best,

Alex.

He’d have given the man a call to clarify if it hadn’t been his first day on the new job.

Oh, Alex, Alex, Alex…

Achilles was calm. He was always calm, right? He’d just… act normal. Follow Alex’s lead. Yes. This was going to be fine.

But he made sure to clean his room. Just in case.

*****

Alex—well the whole town, really—always claimed he overdressed, so even if this wasn’t a date, the embroidered bomber jacket Achilles had adorned wouldn’t have raised any alarm bells.

It would be best not to get his hopes up, though. Just in case. But as Achilles trudged through the half-shoveled snow to the saloon, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Emily welcomed him the moment he stepped foot in the saloon, her eyes glittering as she took his arm. Haley, he saw, was coincidentally paying the Stardrop a rare visit today, having claimed a booth to herself despite the crowds and its accompanying damp, musty scent. She pursed her lips when he made eye contact, gave a wily little wiggle of her shoulders—really, quite remarkable how up in his business that button nose of hers could reach. He responded with a venomous grin and a raised middle finger. Incredibly impolite, of course, but he was only returning what she’d given him many a season ago.

Achilles followed Emily down the back hall to where the private rooms lay (So… definitely a date, right?), where they stopped at the very last door.

“Right along in here… oh, and would you look at that, I forgot to bring the menus. You go on in, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, all right, Emily…”

As she dashed away, arms held aloft like a ballerina, he took a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

Immediately, Alex, who had been seated at a small table in quite a small private room, jumped to his feet, tripping over the wooden chair as he half-stumbled for the door. “Hey!”

Oh fuck.

Outside of the Flower Festival back in the Spring, Achilles had rarely seen Alex out of activewear and athleisure. The sight of those arms now, tight in the sleeves of a forest green cardigan, would’ve alone been enough to send even Leah’s heart racing, surely. But the lightly patterned, sage button down—well. A man after his own heart.

Alex’s hair was combed back, tidier than he’d ever seen it (though a part of Achilles did miss the casual, semi-messy curls of it all), and as he shut the door behind him, he noticed something more akin to vanilla and cinnamon had replaced Alex’s usual citrus scent.

But Achilles quickly found his breath and shook himself out of his reverie, taking a step forward just as Alex finished picking up the chair he’d sent keeling to the floor.

“Hi—”

“This-was-supposed-to-be-a-date-but-if-you-don’t-want-it-to-be-one-I-completely-understand-I-didn’t-mean-to-ambush-you-I’m-just-really-stupid-just-tell-me-whatever-it-is-you-want.”

But Achilles could only blink, lost in Alex’s rather anxious, wild-eyed stare, eyes greener than ever in the rosy overhead lighting.

Did you hear that right? It is a date—you were right, good for you. Wait. He definitely said date, right? He said it was a date. Confirm? Confirm— “Pardon?”

“Also these are for you. I mean, if you want them.”

Alex half-shoved a cellophaned bouquet into Achilles’ hands. Half a dozen white roses and goldenrod wrapped in a emerald green ribbon. Not Pierre’s work, or even Jojamart’s. No, someone must’ve paid a visit to a Zuzu City florist.

Date?

Yes! Date!

Man, you gotta say something, bitch.

“Oh. Thank you. These are… beautiful. Thanks. Yes. A date. I… assumed.”

Assumed? Assumed? My god, what an arrogant prick you are. Get it together. What’s the matter with you?

He accepted the flowers from Alex, and in a sudden flash of inspiration, let his fingers linger on Alex’s for perhaps one or two seconds longer than necessary as the bouquet was passed between them. The effect was instantaneous—at this apparent affirmation of Achilles’, Alex’s visibly brightened, bounding back to the dinner table and pulling out Achilles’ chair for him.

“Wow,” he exclaimed, scooting the chair forward as Alex hurried to the other end of the table. “I didn’t think people did that anymore. You do this for all the girls or just me?”

“Don’t feel too special, I do that for everyone.”

“Damn. At least tell me I’m prettier than all the other girls you’ve dated.”

“You know I don’t like lying, Ash, don’t make me do it.” Alex grinned, handing him a menu that Emily evidently had not forgotten to leave behind.

“Zero for two. Well, it was worth a try.” God, shut up. He must’ve been more nervous than he realized. Babbling like this. Stupid jokes. Chill out, man. Why are you nervous? You’re never nervous! No reason to be nervous. He asked you out… you have all the power here. Yoba, shut the fuck up! Stop thinking like that! What’s wrong with you? Asshole!

Achilles’ poker face was near to breaking as his self-disgust began to overwhelm his nerves, but he was luckily rescued by Emily, who had returned with a knock at the door. “No violin today, Al?” She shimmied in with her question, ignoring Alex’s groan, and raised her notepad, ready to take their orders.

“I haven’t had Gus play the violin for me in 10 years, Emily, when is that joke ever going to die—”

“Ask him about the violin,” she said, bumping Achilles’ shoulder with her hip. “And the Handbook.”

“Emily—”

“Now just a warning for ya, it’s a bit busy tonight. Seems like lots of folks eager to get out after the storm, but Gus’ll get your order out shortly. Now what can I get for y’all?”

A steak for Alex, linguine with mushroom cream for Achilles—with her usual spritely bow, Emily scampered from the room, leaving Alex still red from whatever merciless ribbing she had dealt him.

“So,” Achilles began, lifting his glass of water. Perhaps a cold drink would wash away his lingering anxieties, though Emily’s return had broken most of the tension for him. “The violin…”

With the defeated air of getting something over with, Alex took a similar swig from his water before launching into a hurried, one-breath explanation. “My grandpa gave me a dating handbook when I turned 13, and yes, I will admit I followed it pretty religiously up through college, so Haley really got to see the worst of it all, and she and Emily have never gotten over it, but hey, in my defense there’s some stuff in there that’s really not half bad, I swear.”

“Like giving your date flowers? And pulling out their chair?”

Alex grimaced.

“Well shit, Al, I’m feeling less and less special by the second.”

Here, Alex seemed to visibly deflate, sinking deeper into the back of his chair until Achilles, rather alarmed by the somewhat uncharacteristic lack of confidence—maybe he’s nervous, too, bitch—rapped his fingers sharply against the table. “I’m just joking, Al. Sorry, I’m being an ass, it’s very… charming.”

That seemed to be enough to pull Alex back to his usual self, and Achilles quickly plowed ahead, making sure to keep his tone light. “But the violin Emily mentioned?”

“Ah. Yes.” Alex rubbed his nose, preparing his next words carefully as if gearing up for the worst. “Well, if you must know… according to the handbook, I’m supposed to start first dates with a little sort of violin serenade from Gus.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I really wish I was.”

“And you actually… did that.”

“Oh, just a few times. I don’t know man, my only source of dating advice when I moved here was my really old and old fashioned grandpa.”

“Fair enough. I’ll allow it.”

Alex chuckled, and once again took a quick sip from his drink just as Achilles raised his own. A lull in the conversation—but not an uncomfortable one, Achilles thought, as he took the opportunity to casually savor the view from over the rim of his glass. He hadn’t ever really allowed himself to do it before. It had always felt rather intrusive, salacious even, to stare for longer than a beat or so—but surely now, of all times, it was… okay. Right?

Clearly Alex had put in quite a bit of effort tonight, really, it felt wrong not to appreciate it all… anyway, it was hard to ignore those eyes sparkling from across the table, pink lips slightly parted as Alex readied himself to take probably his twentieth sip of water. Achilles could think of just a few other things he’d rather see those lips do, but he dug his thumb into his palm and refocused himself back to the present. You perv, he thought, his own lips twisting to the side as he attempted to hold back a wry grin. Get your mind out of the gutter.

It was Alex who broke the silence, with a tentative observation of his own. “You, um… you look really nice.” His fingers were locked tightly together as they rested atop the table, and through the floorboards, Achilles could feel the faint vibration of what must have been Alex bouncing his foot. “You don’t usually wear black.”

“I do in the Winter, you’ll see. It tricks me into thinking I’m less cold than I am.”

“Ha.”

“You look good, too.” Achilles threw a nod in Alex’s general direction. “Probably should’ve opened with that, I was thinking it when I came in, but I suppose the words didn’t get a chance to make it out of my mouth.”

“Oh!” A blush crept into the man’s cheeks as he glanced towards the floor. “Thank you. I- I wasn’t sure, personally, I told Haley I thought the sweater was too small, you know, but she, uh, she told me to shut up—”

“Always, such a lovely, lovely girl.” Achilles’ eyes followed the well-defined slope of Alex’s bicep. “But she’s right. Don’t worry. It’s perfect.”

“Well, I can’t really raise my arms…”

“Listen, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually come from a long line of really famous fashion designers, and by long line, I mean just my mother—”

“Man, you don’t know a dang thing about fashion—”

“Fuck, 0/3—I thought this was supposed to be a date, why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m not—well because—because you’re so calm, why are you always so calm, it’s pissing me off.” With a barking laugh, Alex chucked his napkin across the table as Achilles, rather bewildered by Alex’s uncharacteristically off-base observation, flung his hands instinctively in front of his face.

“It’s incredibly kind of you to ignore the five mental breakdowns you’ve witnessed me have, is doing that part of your grandpa’s handbook, too?” But as Achilles slid the cloth back across the table, he became more serious, and he continued in a somewhat softer tone. “There’s no reason to be nervous, Al, it’s just me. Just think of all the times I’ve humiliated myself in front of you, eh?”

That elicited a small smile, at the very least. But while Achilles’ anxiety had since settled for the most part, it seemed Alex would need more than a weak joke.

“Speaking of nerves though, how was the first day on the new job, Mr. Manager?”

Achilles gave himself a private pat on the back as Alex jumped at the redirection, the apprehension in his eyes rapidly melting as he eagerly shared his new schedule.

What a pro you are! Still got it…

The conversation carried them all through Emily’s return with their appetizers and dishes—and it was only after she left (with a rather unnecessary promise of “leaving them undisturbed”), that Alex’s hands, so animated during his recounting, returned to tightly gripping the glass of his water.

Achilles waited—as Alex would ruefully say—calmly. It was clear he had something to say.

And indeed, Alex cleared his throat with the tiniest cough and, after a quick glance at the door to confirm they were indeed alone, pulled his chair an inch forward.

“Um. Right. Achilles. So. I thought I’d get a private room so we could… talk. I mean, not that we wouldn’t be able to talk if we didn’t have a private room, but it’s loud out there, and it’s what my grandpa’s handbook always said I should do anyway—I don’t know why I just admitted that, I’m sorry. Um, anyway, all that to say—you know, actually, I wrote myself some notes, sorry, give me a second…”

He fumbled with something in the pocket of his chinos as Achilles smothered another smile.

“This really makes me look like a nerd doesn’t it, but I just wanted to make sure I was… clear. About things. And didn’t forget anything, you know, especially after how stupid I was this morning. So if you could, um, maybe listen for a bit?”

Achilles gave a smooth, little nod that managed not to betray the twitch that had returned to his limbs. “For sure. The floor’s all yours.”

Alex grimaced and, taking a deep breath, unfolded a rather wrinkled piece of notebook paper and began to read aloud in a rather toneless, slow and slightly stuttered recitation.

“When we first met, I was instantly drawn to you. And it wasn’t just because I was your number one fan.” He glanced up. “Ha.” Eyes dropped abruptly back down to the page as he continued.

“I think a part of me knew we were destined to be great friends. And I was really happy when we actually did become friends. I had never had a friend like you. You were so smart and cool and you made me feel like I could actually do things with my life. I really liked spending time with you.

“And then during the blizzard, I…” The paper between Alex’s hands began to crinkle as his grip tightened ever so slightly, but he continued to stare, laser focused, on the scribbled words. “Well I started thinking that maybe I liked you as… more than a friend. It was confusing. I kept telling myself, ‘You can’t have these feelings for another guy.’ I mean, I’d never had feeling like this for anyone.

“But I thought about it a lot. Went back and forth a lot trying to decide, I was going crazy, really. And, well. I think I really like you. Like that. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date to—what? Oh. I think I spelled ‘tonight’ wrong. Agh, stupid. Okay, anyway. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date tonight.”

With a bit of a sniff, Alex folded the paper back into quarters and gave Achilles a rather awkward, teeth-baring attempt at a smile. It was the most unflattering he had ever looked, in Achilles’ opinion, and somehow that made it all the better. Alex patted his folded notes and ended with a little nod. “Well. That’s it.”

During the blizzard…

So this had been a much more recent realization than Achilles had originally believed.

Thank Yoba you didn’t make a move earlier.

Had it really just been the kiss on the Mullner’s front porch? It had barely been a kiss—couldn’t have been less romantic if he’d tried. Was that really all it had taken to ignite this? He’d taken barely three days to think this through. Though, then again, he supposed Alex had always been the more impulsive one between them… Not everyone spends a whole week anguishing over pros and cons lists, you dumb bitch.

“What was the turning point?” Achilles asked as Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I’m just curious. These past few days, what made you ultimately decide that you… wanted this?”

“Oh. During the storm.” Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would’ve been to have been snowbound with you.”

*****

After it became clear to Alex that Achilles was not going to escape out the back door of the saloon after hearing Alex’s prepared remarks, his usual optimistic countenance quickly returned. By the time the two dug into their dinners, they had managed to roll back into their usual groove, chatting and laughing with familiar ease all through dessert until Emily returned with the check.

“Oh, I’ve got it—”

“Like hell you do—”

“I was the one who asked you out, I should pay—”

“Emily, give me the check or I’m never coming here again—”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one, the only thing you cook yourself is a boiled egg.”

Emily seemed to agree. She hip checked Achilles’s outstretched hand and, with a rather hyena-like cackle, seized Alex’s card before dodging Achilles once again on her way out.

“You know, the Handbook says it’s proper for the man to always pay,” Alex said, snootily tossing his napkin onto his plate with a raised pinkie. “Now I don’t know what that means for us, exactly, but at least let me have this one, will you?”

Achilles rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he craned his neck in search of nothing. “The napkin’s actually supposed to go on the left when you’re finished with your meal, but never mind that. Where’s Gus? Can someone get Gus? I want a violin serenade pronto.”

*****

Haley had disappeared by the time the two emerged from the private room, but Achilles, who had eyes for only one person, didn’t notice her absence. Neither did he notice the thick clumps of snow now falling under the glow of the moon, even as Alex held open for him the Stardrop’s front door and said, “Want to take a walk? It’s not too late, I don’t think.”

“Sure,” Achilles said with a soft smile. The bouquet Alex had gifted him was in one hand, and he tightened his scarf with the other as he stepped out into the cold. “Just a walk, though? Not a run?”

“Oh, you want to run?”

Without waiting for a response, Alex tore down the cobblestone path to the south.

“Fuck—Al, you’re going to slip and break your neck—fucking athletes, I knew I’d sworn them off for a reason—“

But the wind covered his calls and his muttered curses, and he had no choice but to hurtle after Alex, laughing even as he skidded past a bewildered Lewis. He hadn’t jogged in a fat minute—not that he likely would’ve caught up to Alex anyway at his peak back in the Fall—but even despite the cold, he gave a merry chase, sprinting across the bridge until his foot found the soft, squishy crunch of slushy sand. There was snow on the beach. Of course there was—we just had a blizzard, you dolt.

But even so, the strange sight came a surprise. He stopped to take in the cool glow of the snow, a white sheet stretching all the way down to the waves up ahead. It wasn’t deep, but the dampness still managed to seep through his boots.

Luckily, the rest of him was all warmed up now, thanks to their mile race through Pelican Town. Whether that had actually been Alex’s intention, nervous energy, or the man just couldn’t help but exercise whenever given the opportunity, he wasn’t quite sure. Regardless, with a bit of a wheeze, he sidled up next to where Alex (who was infuriatingly not out of breath) stood waiting by Elliott’s cabin. The light was on, casting both arrivers in its mellow beam, but if the writer had noticed their arrival, he took care not to disturb them.

“Can I, um… can I hold your hand?”

“Hmm?” Achilles, who was still slightly bent at the waist catching his breath, glanced rather pitifully up at the green-clad figure above.

“I just… I just figured it’d make the whole thing feel a little bit more like a date,” Alex, slightly red, said with the barest hint of a shrug. “I don’t know, sorry, is that weird? We don’t have to. It’s just that… it’s just kinda felt like we’ve been… hanging out.”

“We are hanging out,” Achilles said, slowly straightening himself up. “I mean, if we break it down, that’s basically what a date is, right?”

“I guess…”

Achilles had never exactly loved the concept of holding hands—he sweat too easily and it threw off his stride—but off of Alex’s blink-and-you-missed-it frown, he weaved his arm through Alex’s and led him towards the boardwalk.

Remember what Elliott said…

Physical touch was never Achilles’ forte. It’s not that he disliked it. Quite the contrary (well, as long as it was in private). It was simply that non-sexual touch didn’t come as naturally to him as it did for others. Often more of an afterthought than something top of mind. But, as Elliott had reminded him, Alex, who greeted his friends with a hug nearly as often as he did a wave, would likely find more validation in something beyond the mere time they were spending together.

“Would you like to sit down?” Alex kicked a clump of snow off the wooden planks and into the water before laying down his coat and chuckling. “Shoot, I really feel like I’m 13. Yoba, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry, I promise, I’ve been on a lot of dates before—”

“Wow, we’ve got a veritable Casanova out here, everyone—”

“All right, that didn’t come out right, you know what I meant. Although I don’t really know what you meant just now—”

“You’re a big baller.”

“Okay, okay, no, I just… look, I just don’t know what to do. With you.”

“A thing like that. You know how to make a boy feel special. What does the Handbook recommend?”

Alex began to tick off his fingers as he huddled slightly closer to Achilles on the boardwalk. “Well we’ve had the dinner. I got you flowers. Pulled out your chair. Paid. Asked if we could hold hands. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but later I’m going to offer to walk you home if you must know.”

“That’s adorable—you’re adorable—has anyone on your numerous dates before ever told you that?”

“Man, I could beat you up.”

“Why are you always threatening to beat me up?”

“Wasn’t it you who once said that every child deserves to get bullied just a little bit or something?”

“Are you calling me a child?”

“Man, I’m just making up for lost time, you don’t seem like someone who got shoved into a locker enough as a kid.”

Despite the confidence in Alex’s quip, Achilles could feel the tension in the tightened muscles of his arm. The small space Alex had left between them had felt purposeful—tentative. Even now, Achilles watched as his hands fluttered from place to place, as if eager for something to hold, but too afraid to commit.

Realizing it would be up to him to reassure a flustered Alex out of his hesitation, Achilles closed the gap, tightening the grip around his bicep and tucking his head onto his shoulder. The whole thing was admittedly rather stiff in its deliberateness, but as he better settled into the crook of Alex’s neck—felt Alex, who seemed to recognized the permission Achilles had silently granted, now reach eagerly for his hand—and inhaled the rich, velvety scent of vanilla, he believed there wasn’t a spot in the world he’d rather be.

Minutes passed, and they listened to the waves crash against the shore.

“Do you think Elliott’ll stay in the valley? If his book gets published?”

“Hmm.” Achilles stirred—shit, had he nearly fallen asleep? Can’t fall asleep in your own damn bed, but everything’s always fine and dandy and soothing out here on this damp ass wood. What’s this boardwalk got on you?

Though maybe it wasn’t the boardwalk’s doing.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’d like to think so. I hope he buys himself a better house at any rate… or at least a second chair…”

“Have you been writing?”

“Mmm. Not in the way you’re asking. Does it count if it’s in my head?”

“I don’t see why not. But hey, I don’t make the rules.”

Achilles sighed and lay slowly down, his back against the boardwalk as he gazed up at the stars. Alex followed, though he chose to lie on his side, one arm beneath his head, the other resting atop Achilles’ chest as his hand continued to grip Achilles’.

“I’ve got an idea. Well, it’s the same idea I had before, if you remember those pages you snooped a look at when you were cleaning my house… I’ve got it pretty much outlined in my head and everything, it’s just… well you know. I want it to mean something. I want it to matter, I want to finally write something… more than all those kid books I wrote when I was younger, those were so simple, so… stupid. I just don’t know why it’s so fucking hard.”

The stars twinkled above them, and Alex thumbed his hand. The soft touch, combined with the steady rhythm of the small movement, slowly sweetened the bitter hollow that seemed to have taken up semi-permanent residence in his chest.

“Sometimes I think we’ve built up this idea that we have to always be, like, fighting for the things that we want. That if something isn’t hard then it must be wrong or, like… I don’t know. Not important.” Alex was tracing letters onto the back of Achilles’ hand now. “But I don’t know, maybe it’s the lazy bum part of me but sometimes—and I promise, I do mean sometimes, not all the time… but sometimes I do think things are easy because they’re the right thing to do.”

Achilles turned his head. In the dark, Alex’s eyes were black, but under the glow of the moon, he could count the snowflakes on every lash.

*****

“Well. Here it comes, drum roll please, everyone: can I walk you home?” Alex gave Achilles a hand as they rose from the boardwalk and didn’t let go as they exited the beach.

“Only if you give me a copy of this Handbook later.”

“I actually wonder if I do have a copy somewhere still… I don’t know, I’ve pretty much got it memorized at this point.”

“Because you’ve gone on so many dates.”

“Yeah, exactly. I was a real Casa—Cassiopeia? What did you say before?”

“Casanova? Wait, did you say Cassiopeia—fairly niche mythological reference—”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises. Anyway, whatever, I was hot stuff before you got to know me, you know.”

“Man, shut the fuck up, you were hot stuff even while I knew you, remember Abigail’s birthday party…”

The two laughed as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms, taking the slightly longer route through Cindersap Forest, despite the cold and the late hour.

Alex walked him to the porch. The motion sensor lights Achilles had installed nearly a year ago had flickered on the moment they passed the shipping bin, and so they stood awash in the weak fluorescence of a buzzing overhead lamp.

He was lingering—definitely lingering, biting his lip in typical Alex-fashion, his eyes dancing everywhere except Achilles’ face. And after a beat, Achilles—ever impatient—said, “All right, are you going to ask me if you can kiss me now?”

Alex jumped—actually jumped. “Oh.” Between rapid blinks, he managed to stutter, “Do you want me to ask you?”

“I—it was a joke.”

“Do you want me to?”

“It was a joke. You know, with the Handbook. I assumed you were just gearing up for Step 5 or whatever step we’ve reached…”

“Oh. No, I’m not supposed to kiss anyone until the third date. Obviously. Anything sooner is impolite and im… dang, what was the other word… immoral? Is that a word? Yes. Immoral. Obviously.”

“What?” Achilles stepped back, throwing a hand to his forehead in mock shock. “Fuck, so this whole time, my whole life—I’ve just been a slut? Shit, I always knew it—”

Alex laughed, but, to Achilles’ surprise, took a small, shy step forward. “Do you want me to ask you?”

Taking a page from Alex’s book, Achilles found himself biting his own lip as he met Alex’s inscrutable gaze. “I—Yes.”

A pause. And then, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

In one step, Alex closed the remaining foot between them. His hands gripped the back of Achilles’ neck, and with a boldness he had been so hesitant to demonstrate earlier this evening, Alex cupped his face and kissed him.

He tasted like vanilla and he tasted like gold and as Achilles let himself drown in the molten glow of his touch, he found he felt… happy.

But the kiss didn’t last long—barely a second, really, for Alex’s lips had almost instantly parted upon impact in that wide-toothed grin of his, his tongue peeking out per usual—and the two of them quickly dissolved into laughter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, still half-laughing as he leaned his forehead into Achilles’. “That was… really bad. I swear I’m better than that—”

“Yeah, all that practice being hot stuff and all—”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I was born so dang se—”

“Stay the night.” But through the sleeves of a slightly-damp coat, he felt Alex stiffen, and so Achilles hurried to add, “We don’t have to do anything. I don’t expect anything. We can just talk. I just… I don’t want you to leave just yet.”

Immediately, Alex slackened as a small but earnest smile returned to his face.

“Ok.”

*****

Achilles put on some late night tea as Alex took a seat in the kitchen, Voltaire already snuggled in his lap.

Over the course of the blizzard, Achilles had finally moved the typewriter from where it had been sitting, like a monument to all his shortcomings, untouched upon the table. Not that he’d gotten around to taking it out of the box—it was now sitting underneath his desk, still packaged—but, hey, small steps.

Sitting in the center of the kitchen table now were a dozen white roses and goldenrod blooms in Achilles’ favorite (well, only remaining) vase.

“I can boil you an egg, too, if you’d like,” Achilles said, lips twitching as he slid over a cup of chamomile tea and a tray of strawberry scones he’d purchased from Pierre’s that afternoon.

“Ya know what, that sounds great, but I’m actually good. But thanks.”

It was easy—so easy to just sit here, together. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. It had always been easy with Alex.

They sat across the table from each other. Perhaps if Achilles had remembered Elliott’s advice, had been a little bit more thoughtful of a person, he would’ve moved closer—held Alex’s hand again, maybe bump his knee with his own. But in the moment, he was too drunk on his own happiness to give Alex’s prospective wants the consideration they likely should’ve deserved.

The scones and tea had long disappeared, but the two were eager to use any excuse to prolong the end of the evening—from walking through the schedule for Elliott’s book reading tomorrow to dissecting the latest season of The Bachelor (which neither of them actually watched, yet both were somehow still in the know), it wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that Achilles, in begrudging acknowledgment that any further delays would throw off his finely tuned sleeping schedule, slapped the table and stood.

“Well. I’ve got some extra toothbrushes and some clothes you can borrow, if that works for you. Ready to call it a night?”

*****

What is wrong with you.

It was Alex who was in the shower right now, but it was Achilles’ good mood that seemed to be dripping down the drain.

God, why can’t you just enjoy things, you bastard.

Surely he deserved to be happy, even if just a little bit, right? Yes, surely being happy was allowed. Then why was it now feeling like some sort of… betrayal?

Fuck, who is there even to betray, bitch? Get yourself together. No one wants to date a grump.

He needed to be better. Alex deserved better. Alex, who was like light and like stars. Alex, who was turning out to be everything and more than what he ever had hoped to imagine. He could be better, if this stupid ass mood of his would just go away.

Where did you even come from? Get out and mind your own damn business and let me be happy for once.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the water shutting off—neither did he hear Alex call his name as he stood sourly against the wall of his bedroom, half-dressed, still trying to duke it out with his own brain.

“Achilles? What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” He snapped his head towards the voice.

“You’re thinking about something.” Alex had emerged from the bathroom wearing a set of sweatpants and an old t shirt Achilles had found at the back of a drawer. “I can see it on your face, what is it?”

“Mmm.” Achilles massaged the bridge of his nose and set a glass of water down by the nightstand before opening the top drawer to retrieve something small. “Nothing I haven’t already thought pretty much to death.”

Alex cocked his head, a knowing look on his face as he padded around the bed to take a seat behind the desk. “Want to think about it to death with me?”

“I— No.”

“You sure?”

Achilles uncrossed his arm only to cross them again. “I mean, we’re on a date…”

“Sure, but we’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Fuck.

Always with the patience of a saint. He didn’t deserve him—hell, was there anyone on this planet who deserved him? And strangely, with this thought, as quickly as his mood had come did it fade. Maybe it was true that nobody deserved Alex, but for some unbelievable reason Alex wanted him, and he trusted Alex’s judgement, so hey, who was Achilles to deprive him of that?

“It’s fine. Really. Like I told you before, it comes and goes…. Here.” Achilles held out his hand, dropping the item he’d retrieved from his nightstand into Alex’s open palm. “This is yours. Held onto it for awhile there, didn’t I. Sorry about that.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you!” Alex rested his arm across his leg to better clasp the thin leather watch around his wrist. “Wow, I totally forgot—I guess you should probably take yours back, too, here—”

But before he could remove the smart watch, Achilles bent to snatch Alex’s wrist, holding his arm up tightly between them. The sharp movement triggered a rather equally sharp intake of breath from the watch-wearer, but Achilles pretended not to notice, biting back his smirk as he glanced at the steps recorded on the watch face—a higher number than he was used to seeing, that was for sure, even with all his jogs.

“Mmm. Actually. You want to keep it? You’re probably getting more use out of it than I did.”

“Oh no, that’s all right—”

“I’m not sure if this one’s waterproof, though… have you tried swimming with it?”

“Oh. Maybe? I don’t really remember taking it off. Sorry, was that bad?”

“Eh.” Achilles, his fingers still splayed taught around Alex’s wrist, unclasped the watch and chucked it behind him where it fell about a foot short of the nightstand.

“Good aim.”

“I’ll get you a newer one.”

“Achilles, no, stop, man, you don’t have to do that—”

“Shh, no, no, just let me buy you things, what else am I good for?”

But he said the words with a lazy smile, and after running his hand through his hair, bent to retrieve the smart watch from the floor.

When he turned back from the nightstand, he noticed Alex watching him with a curious, wide-eyed innocence quite at odds with the subject of his stare. Mirroring the characteristic tilt of Alex’s own head, Achilles, his lips twitching as he held in a laugh, slowly knelt until he finally caught Alex’s eye.

The man immediately flushed scarlet, shutting his slightly parted mouth with a snap as he turned quickly away from Achilles’ unclothed chest. “Ah—sorry.”

“For what? Making me feel good about myself?” Achilles chuckled, straightening back to full height. “Although you’ve watched me swim a million times, you should know there’s nothing nearly as impressive to look at as what you see in the mirror every damn day—”

“Stop that.” Alex aimed a light kick before jumping up from the chair and joining him by the nightstand. “I think you’re perfect, you know.”

“Aw, Alexander, aren’t you just the swe—”

“Just physically, of course. There’s still some work to do up here.” He tapped Achilles’ forehead.

“All right, bitch—”

But he silenced Achilles with a hand to his chest—except that wasn’t quite it, was it?

Fuck.

He could feel his body heat—or maybe it was his own body that was suddenly beginning to blaze. From anticipation? From impatience? For Alex’s actual hand was hovering just barely a centimeter above his skin.

Dammit, just touch me, Alex.

But before he could speak, Alex, his voice wavering slightly, murmured, “Can I?”

Always so damn polite.

“Yes.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t for Alex to reach first for his hand, tracing each of Achilles’ fingers, the lines of his palm, slowly, as if savoring each divot and crease. It was, if he was honest, a little strange, but he said nothing, only breathed, ragged and rough, as Alex’s own fingers traveled up to his wrist, up his forearm, to his bicep where they lightly circled the band tattooed on his skin.

Achilles closed his eyes. Relished the callused touch upon his collarbone that burned even with the lightest brush. Gentle. Everything so gentle.

One hand slipped to his lower back, and Alex’s touch on his bare skin sent a quiver through his body—he felt Alex pull him closer, felt him rest his forehead against his own. His breath was warm, but smelled faintly of peppermint.

Alex’s thumb parted his lips with a tenderness Achilles had never before allowed himself.

“Can I try again?” The whisper tickled his ear and a velvet thrill itched his heart. “I promise it’ll be better this time.”

Achilles nodded.

And yet, despite it being his own ask, Alex’s hesitance seemed to have returned. A delicate, trembling sigh seemed to be serving as the entr’acte before this second at, and so it was Achilles this time who closed the gap.

Perhaps he should’ve been gentle, perhaps he should’ve been polite, but he wanted it and he had wanted it and Alex was here, asking for it—

Utterly helpless, a moth to Alex’s flame. Yet it was Achilles who pulled him in with the hunger of a dying fire and kissed him as if he were oxygen, like he was fuel. Electricity sparked through every vein as his hands raked through still-damp hair, along his neck, his shoulders, muscles taut and tight and touching him back—it was rash and reckless, and surely it was right—

But something nagging at the back of his mind managed to pierce through his desperate desire, and, not without difficulty, Achilles pulled himself away. To give himself a second to better regain control of himself, to give Alex a second to better decide—

Are you sure you want this, too?

He slowed his breathing, let his hands drop from Alex’s hips. Prepared for the worst.

Was I too fast? Too rough? Too much?

For the first time, he found himself unable to meet Alex’s emerald gaze—that precise shade of green had, at some point, become synonymous for safety, so why was he suddenly so afraid?

He could feel Alex watching him, though his own eyes he kept glued to the ground. Achilles had never felt so scrutinized. So small.

Then, a hand on his neck. A finger resting below his ear, a thumb along his jaw. And Achilles was brought back to Spirit’s Eve. The first time Alex had kissed him. Had all been a character for Alex back then, a costume. How far had they come…

Alex slowly lifted his chin and asked in a voice, soft and tentative, “Is… is that what you like?”

“I—what? Yes, wh—Alex, what do you like—”

But Alex cut him off—seized him, kissed him, frenetic and greedy and deep and hard, and Achilles was set aglow. He pushed Alex towards the bed. Shoved him—not unkindly—down atop the duvet, straddled him and lifted his face up to better meet his own. His hands tugged at Alex’s shirt—god, just get that off—he wanted to feel him, more of him, all of him, he was burning, and wanting, and he very nearly got his wish—shirt halfway off, one hand clinging to the bare hollow of his back—until he was shoved unceremoniously off Alex’s lap and onto the floor.

“What the fuck—”

“Shit—sorry—I’m sorry, I—fuck—”

Achilles—ricocheting between irked and concerned—stumbled to his feet, cheeks red, and managed to spit out only one word whilst retrieving the pieces of his pride. “What?”

He took a pause before following Alex’s avoidant gaze down to his lap, where Alex’s hands lay stiffly between his legs.

“Oh.” Achilles wiped some imaginary dust off his hands as he pushed aside any lingering embarrassment. “Don’t apologize. You know, I, in fact, actually have a penis, too. I get it, it happens.” Wow! Great job not being awkward! Fucking idiot. But upon seeing Alex’s continued discomfort, he added in a less lighthearted tone, “I meant what I said earlier, Al, we don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Can—actually, can we talk?”

“Of course. That’s why I invited you over, right? To talk. It was you who seduced me, you wench. Here.” He pinched his nose—can’t you sound normal just once in your life—and tossed Alex an extra pillow after pulling back the sheets. “We can… put that between us if you’d like, just… give me a second…”

Achilles usually slept in just a pair of boxers, but after this most recent turn of events, he thought it best to head to the closet for a t shirt. His instincts were validated upon his return—Alex had indeed set the pillow in the middle of the bed, and was now clutching it like a life line.

He paused, one hand on the corner of the covers. “I— I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I can actually sleep on the couch if you’d like. I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

“No. No, no, no, that’s not it at all, no, it’s, um. It’s something else. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. It’s… well, it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Now don’t say that…” Achilles slipped slowly beneath the duvet, taking care not to accidentally touch as he gave both Alex and the pillow quite a wide berth. He lay on his back, as he usually did, hands folded across his chest. “Talk to me, Al. Floor is yours.”

He had left his bedside lamp on—it was a rather dim glow, usually reserved for late night reading or the crossword if he was having particularly bad sleep troubles, but he could still make out Alex’s furrowed brow from atop the pillow between them.

“I… um…” A small sigh. Achilles watched Alex rub his face before turning to face the ceiling, one hand still kneading his forehead. “I, um, well… I don’t think—no. I, um…”

“Do you want me to turn the light off? Will that help?”

“No, it’s fine. Leave it on, I… I want to see you.”

“Man, you’re not even looking at me.”

Alex clicked his tongue and continued to stare at the ceiling, but Achilles caught the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest bit. “Okay, okay, you got me there…”

“Mmhm.”

“It’s just that… Well. I just…”

This was a mistake. He doesn’t like you like that. He doesn’t want you.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Oh.

Achilles waited for further explanation, but Alex seemed somewhat disinclined to say more, (though in the subsequent silence, Achilles could hear the slight scrape of what was likely aggressive teeth gnashing). After waiting a respectable two minutes for an elaboration, Achilles took it upon himself to lightly prod. “Is it because… you’re… bisexual—”

“I don’t think I’m bi.”

“Oh.” Oh. Achilles had masked his surprise quickly, but even so, perhaps it was a good thing Alex wasn’t looking at him. No need to make the guy even more self conscious. “Well. Allow me to be the first person to say there’s nothing wrong with being gay either, if that’s what it is—”

“That’s not it, I don’t— well. No, I wanted to—You see, what happened was—I- I don’t… I…”

Alex’s eyes were now full on closed, his hand rather zealously rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve had sex before. To be clear. Like a lot of sex. Oh god, why’d I say it like that.”

“Ah.” Achilles couldn’t help but wince. “It… it would’ve been all right if you hadn’t… to be clear.”

“I mean, not with a guy.”

He responded smoothly. “Sure. I assumed.”

Another sigh, though this one had the hint of a growl as Alex’s exasperation continued to balloon. “Shit. Shoot. This is—well this is obviously not going how I wanted it to— I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying, I just. I’m nervous. About what you’re going to say, and think, and… I just…”

Fuck, Achilles just wanted to hold him—but the situation was nebulous, and so he instead held his own hands, still resting across his chest, tighter, and kept his voice even. “It’s just me, Al. Like you said earlier, we’re still friends. You can tell me whatever, I’m not going to judge.”

“But you might.”

“I won’t.”

“But you might.”

“Alexander—”

“I just—Well. I’ve never been in love before.”

Finally, Alex turned to face Achilles. He lay on his side, his arms still fiercely wrapped around the pillow, and his face remained troubled—brows knitted, his lower lip drawn between his teeth.

“I was, um, 12, 13 when I moved here. Showed up to middle school smack dab in the middle of term. I was the new kid with a dying mom. Made me interesting, I think. Everyone wanted to be my friend. You know how it is…

“What caught me off guard though, was how many girls wanted to be my friend. Or, I guess, more than my friend, but it was middle school so I mean, how real could a relationship actually be, right…”

It wasn’t hard to imagine a 12 year old Alex—chubbier cheeks, probably, but the same freckles, the same large green eyes and sunny disposition—combine that with a tragic backstory and New Kid Novelty, and it was easy to see why the girls at Meridian Middle School had flocked to him.

“It was… weird. I didn’t like it. I didn’t understand what they wanted from me… or why.

“And I pretty quickly realized, well, everyone was either girl crazy or boy crazy or both. Not just girls. My guy friends, too. Man, that’s all folks spent lunch yapping on about, who had a crush on who and whatever. I just didn’t get it—man, I just wanted to talk about grid ball. I don’t know, it was like that part of puberty just… never hit me, I guess…

“But after awhile, I think I just kind of assumed that everyone felt the way I did, but you just…weren’t supposed to talk about it.

“Like I somehow logic-ed it out in my head that your girlfriend was just your best friend who happened to be a girl. And going on dates and stuff, that was just part of having a girlfriend. Like how when you’re a kid you have play dates, when you have a girlfriend you have, well, just… dates. I mean didn’t you say earlier, a date’s basically just hanging out, right? Especially in middle school. It’s just all part of like this script you were supposed to follow—and I mean, it couldn’t have helped that I literally had a dating handbook from my grandpa that was giving me step by step directions, telling me specific things to do.

“Well anyway… I kept feeling this way, even into high school. People stopped being so boy crazy and girl crazy and whatever then, and I stopped feeling so paranoid, stopped overthinking it.

“And then I dated Haley for two years. Everyone kept telling me to ask her out, so I figured I would. If everyone was saying we’d be perfect together, they must be right, right? She was my first serious relationship.

“And dating her actually made me feel—well, better. Validated? Is validated the right word? I liked hanging out with her, she was already my best friend, but, I don’t know, she never seemed that into me in any sort of fancy romantic way, she never really wanted to make out or hook up or anything all that often, and I thought, okay so maybe all that stuff really is all just an act, just stuff for movies, maybe I was right all along.

“Of course, that all came crashing down after she told me she was gay. She kept going on about ‘attraction’ and how it wasn’t a me problem, that she didn’t feel that way about any guys at all, that it was girls she liked, and I remember just nodding along because, honestly, I was just confused.

“I mean, what even is attraction? I’d never thought about that much, not until she was going on and on about it. But when she was describing it, I realized that there was… something else that I was supposed to be feeling. Something I was missing. But it’s hard, you know, like how do you know what it is you’re missing if you’ve never been able to feel it in the first place?

“You know, side note, funnily enough, after she came out, I actually had a second there where I wondered if maybe I was gay, too. Haley had never had a crush on a guy, I’d never felt that way about a girl—whatever “that way” was supposed to be feel. But I thought about it for a bit and ended up deciding I’d never felt that way about a guy either. And I’d been around a whole lotta guys. Sports camp, swim team… nothing.

“So I figured, well, I went back to square one. Maybe this is just how everyone feels. Maybe I just hadn’t met the right girl, maybe I should just give it some time. Maybe I needed to loosen up. So I just kept going through the motions. Doing what I thought everyone my age was doing.

“I was just so caught up with trying to find or feel or whatever, trying to prove that I was normal. So even though I had a bunch of solid excuses to not care about it all—swimming. Making the Artemics team. My grandparents getting sick—I think a part of me was…. I don’t know. Desperate. To find that feeling that I’d been missing, find that person. So I just kept… you know. Going out on dates. And… other stuff. Just nonstop.”

Alex seemed to be approaching the crux of his story now. He sucked in a deep breath between his teeth before turning away again while his hands abandoned the pillow to rest atop his own chest, fingers softly tapping between his rib cage.

“I thought sex was like… you know. Just something you were supposed to do. Like… shaking someone’s hand when you meet them for the first time or… saying thank you when someone opens the door for you. Like it’s just expected you do it. Hold a girl’s hand. Kiss her. Have… sex with her. I didn’t realize people actually wanted… like really wanted to… do these things. Beyond it making the other person happy. Like, I didn’t realize people actually had the… urge to do it. If that makes any sense.

“Like I remember in college, one of my friends, his girlfriend kept cheating on him and I just couldn’t understand why, you know? Like why was it so hard for her not to cheat? Like, what could you possibly be feeling that made you do that, like, what was the reason, why would you sabotage something so easily in your control? And for my friend—why was it so hard, just break up with her already. Like, why stay with someone who… isn’t treating you good?”

There was a small pause, but rather than dwell on darker memories, Alex continued steadily on.

“I know there’s probably more to it, but I guess I just didn’t understand that kind of love. That feeling of… being in love with someone. I had never felt it before. That is…”

Achilles felt Alex stir under the covers, felt him shift his weight as he turned onto his side, peaked his head back above the pillow like a turtle to look at him, a small smile now on his face.“That is, until last week. With you.

“You’re the first person, Ash. And I don’t know why, I don’t know why it’s you—don’t get me wrong, I’m… I’m glad it is.” He laughed, and to Achilles’ surprise, he reached across the pillow for his hand.

“And I see why now it took me so long to even realize there was something wrong with me, that I was missing something, because how could anyone have ever really described to me what this feels like? Attraction. Even now, feeling it now, it’s just… wow. It’s like friends. Like best friend, I don’t know. But… different. And I like it.”

Alex’s tiny sigh of satisfaction sent Achilles heart beating faster, but the rate at which Alex’s remaining hand was tapping against his chest began to quicken as well, and his tone grew more serious.

“But if I’m honest, I… Well. I still feel like a part of me is missing something. In regards to, well… well, just… sex. Like… wanting to have sex.

“I don’t understand why, because I really really like you, I do, and I… well I really liked kissing you. And stuff. And I… well… well normally I spend the time trying not to think about how gross the whole concept of making out with someone kind of is, but for the first time in my life ever, I… I want to do it. Like want to do it. Again. I mean of course, only if you, I don’t know… ever want to do it with me again… Shit. I sound 12, don’t I? Yoba, listen to me, we’ve had one date, you might never want to see me again.”

A rather sheepish smile—Alex ran his free hand through his hair.

“I don’t get it, I don’t get why it feels different, you’d think it’d be the same thing, wanting to be close to someone, wanting to kiss someone, wanting to have sex with them, I don’t know. Wow, I don’t think I’ve said sex as many times in my life as I have just now. What a weird word. Ok, sorry, anyway, I don’t know why I feel one but not the other now. I don’t get it, there’s just… something wrong with me, I don’t know.

“I know this probably doesn’t make much sense, because I’ve hooked up with lots of people before that that I didn’t feel anything for, but I just… because I like you, and because I… do want to be with you, I want to… I don’t know, I want to… want it with you. Like, I want it to feel better, more, I don’t know, purposeful, than all the other times.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that having sex was, like, traumatic or anything in the past—no one forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do—I mean, I never wanted to do it, but only in the sense that I never had, like, the urge to do it. I wanted to want it, but every time I did it, it just felt like… I don’t know. A chore. Yeah. It felt like a chore, and honestly, according to a lot of the girls I dated, I was pretty dang bad at it —for reasons that, you know, now make a lot more sense—until I learned how to, you know— actually, we don’t have to get into that—um, well—anyway, back to what I was saying—

“And, I don’t know, I’d stopped hooking up with people by the time I left school. Given up, I guess, just figured there was something wrong with me. And just thinking about sex in general now makes me kind of…anxious. And I don’t want it to feel like that with you, I don’t want to… bring that in there, if that makes sense. I want this to feel… different.

“Shit, wow, I guess all of this to say… super long story just to ask I guess… to just… I guess what I’m asking is if we can… can we take it slow? Is that stupid to ask? Is that, like, super lame? At 25 years old? Or I guess 28 in your case… geez…”

It took a second before Achilles, still digesting everything Alex had shared, realized he’d been asked a question. It was those green eyes—blinking wide-eyed rather expectantly—that jolted him back to the present, and with a small jump, he rushed to respond with something more akin to a squeal, “Not at all!” But worried that his hasty and high-pitched response (ugh) suggested a sentiment something more to the contrary, Achilles hurried to grip Alex’s hand tighter and said more firmly, “We’ll go as slow as you want. Slow as you need.”

The reassurance seemingly failed to land, as Alex turned slightly away. “I… I know sex is… important to a lot of people, and it’s stupid to ask you to wait, it’s not like there’s a good reason—”

“—Al, any reason is a good reason—”

“—and I don’t want you to wait if you don’t want to, I mean like, if you’re someone who likes sex and, well, wants it…” Alex trailed off, but watched Achilles intently as the latter reached slowly over the pillow to brush aside some of the hair that had fallen into his face.

“I mean, I won’t lie, Al. Like, I like having sex.” Achilles snorted, moving his hand down, tracing the line of Alex’s jaw. So smooth… the man shaved religiously, a holdover habit now unlikely to be broken anytime soon with his return to the competitive swimming world. “But I like you more. I think.”

Alex laughed, placing his hand now over Achilles’ to cup his own face.

“No, but in all seriousness, it’s fine. Thank you for telling me this.”

“But are you really sure? You’re fine with waiting? I… I don’t know how long it’ll be. I wish I could give you a timeline, I mean I wish I could say for sure it’ll actually even happen, to be honest, I don’t even know, but then I again I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love, but I see now these are different, and I don’t want to overpromise something that may not ever actually—”

“Al, seriously. It’s fine. I’ll wait forever as long as I’m waiting with you.”

This time, Alex’s smile reached his eyes, igniting that glimmer of mischief. He gave Achilles’ hand a firm, final smack before turning onto his back once again. “Well… forever’s an awfully long time, I think at a certain point I’d just… well, you know.” He made a circle with his left thumb and pointer finger and began to slowly move his right index finger towards it before Achilles whacked his shoulder.

“Boy, I swear to Yoba—”

But Alex cut him off with a surprise kiss on the cheek. There was a careless sweetness to it, and despite the comparative innocence of the gesture, Achilles immediately bloomed pink—but as Alex returned to lying down, letting himself collapse atop the pillow, there was one final furrow still striking his brow.

“I just… are you… disappointed? Achilles?”

“What?”

“I know, I know, you said it’s fine, but I just… I just want to… I don’t know. Are you disappointed? In me? You’ll tell the truth, won’t you?”

Achilles understood. The need to hear a specific set of words—the hunger for honesty alongside the anxious ache for approval. He kept it simple. “I’m not disappointed in you. And you could never disappoint me.”

It was remarkable, the speed at which those words transformed him; like night and day, Alex was now beaming like a sunrise. With a jaunty little wriggle, he pulled the covers up to his chin. “Okay. I’ll stop being sad now. I’ve ruined your sleep schedule enough and you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Elliott’s got a big day tomorrow, I’ve got like, a medium day.” But even so, Achilles leaned over the nightstand to flick off the lamp.

“Medium shmedium… good night, Ash.”

The pillow still rested between them, but Achilles didn’t mind. He knew Alex was there, and he knew now for sure Alex wanted him.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent replaying the evening in his head—perhaps Alex had already fallen asleep, it was, admittedly quite a lot to digest—but nevertheless, at some point Achilles found himself suddenly speaking into the darkness.

“It’s a thing, you know. Asexuality. Aromanticism. There’s a spectrum for both, but it’s all… valid. It’s all… real, for lack of a better word, what you’ve felt and not felt in the past. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

#llnks #stardew alex #stardew fanfic #aspec fanfic #sdv fanfic #alex stardew #sdv alex #sdv oc #asexuality #ace positivity #sorry this was later than usual I am at urgent care lmfao

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scalamore · 11 months

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(Analysis/Thoughts) - Rupert’s obsession/possessiveness (a bit R15+ thoughts?)

What the manhwa does much better in than the novel, is the development of Rupert’s ‘possessiveness’. Eclair, the original novel author, stated she wrote Rupert as an obsessive/possessive character, but I don’t really see it - I just see him being a green flag all around. The manhwa, on the other hand, actually expanded on the novel’s story regarding Rupert’s characterization with manhwa-original scenes and I actually prefer the manhwa’s method. As a review, in both the manhwa and novel, it’s established from Ch 25ish and 45ish that as Rupert grew up, he didn’t have anything to call his own, and so he clung obsessively to what he did. He was always alone, and considered Tori and Louis and Fassbender as tools. As they belonged to him and has his loyalty, he’ll look out for them and use them to their fullest. As Rupert says, he cherishes things because they belong to him, not because he likes them. Things that belong to him won’t betray him. Lari realizes the best way to earn his trust was to pledge her loyalty to him by “becoming his”. She knows she can’t change his mind, and feels that this thought process won’t change anyways. So she offers herself up to him, and spends the rest of S1 and S2 trying to earn his favor and “become his”.

It doesn’t help that Rupert reminds her that she doesn’t belong to him yet, or that he doesn’t trust her, or having Tori remind her how useless she is - all this triggered her fears and anxiety, and how she’s so useless compared to everyone else. And thus the misunderstanding throughout the series: Lari believes that Rupert doesn’t trust her at all, and she has to continue to be more and more reckless in her endeavors to prove her worth to him, to earn his trust and protection. On the other hand based on Ch 115, he warmed up to her REALLY quickly. Looks like he really started trusting her by Ch 59, fell in love sometime between that and Ch 78, where he admitted he wanted to grab and kiss her. Once again, that brings up the issue that Rupert has never been exposed to any love in his life he doesn’t know what it’s like to experience or give it. So while Lari tells him that she wants to be someone he cherishes (like his other ‘belongings’), he gives it serious thought and tries his best to treat her well. But as his feelings grow, there’s another issue: his natural desire to want to get closer to her and be more physically intimate with her.

All his life, he was told that the Crazy Emperor [Loved] Eva, to the point of being obsessed over her, and possessing her to where she was stripped of her individuality and freedom, and is basically a slave. In response to that [Love], Eva was ruined and would rather die than be alive with that monstrous, depraved. Emperor. That’s what Rupert witnessed of such [Love] - physically and mentally assaulting Eva without consent, hugging with her struggling against him, grabbing on to her so she couldn’t flee, forcing kisses and intimacy upon her. Again, this abuse was so horrendous that Eva chose death.

As the manhwa suggests, Rupert already had strong feelings for Lari by Ch 78. During a moment of crisis, when she was poisoned, his desire to protect her grew even stronger, as well as that desire to hold her tight - but he couldn’t allow himself to touch her. When Eva was alive, she had told him that there would be no one in this world who would ever love him for who he is, and he accepted it. After all, who would love him, if not even his own mother did? He also knew how much Lari hated and feared him. There was no way he could act on his feelings. Despite him concluding that he’ll remain distant, to not covet her in CH 63 and 86, he still wants her to be with him. Not realizing what he feels is [Love], he stubbornly reminds her often that “she belongs to him”, in hopes that she won’t think about leaving. Because he knows that if she really wants to leave the palace, he won’t be able to force her to stay. So he reminds her of that promise in Ch 34 and Ch73ish, that she belongs to him now, and to not forget it. To me, that’s just a feeble ‘promise’ to stay by his side. It’s not like an order she’s commanded to fulfill, that’s the only thing Rupert can cling to to encourage her to stay. Besides that, as she’s denied promotions, riches, material goods, he doesn’t know what else he can offer her (he never thinks of the possibility of telling her his real feelings unfortunately, he gave up before he even tried :( ) As Lari correctly guesses - yes it’s Rupert’s insecurity speaking, not an order.

When Ch 98 comes, Rupert once again realizes how much he relies on Lari. Now that he’s this close to becoming Emperor, he feels so so empty, but as he thought, he’s so warm and happy near Lari. His heart/brain naturally headed over to her room, and it’s natural for him to stay overnight to protect her from any harm if any enemies were to target her. He decided again, to watch over her and cherish her as much as he would his own life. He will absolutely protect her from anything and everything.

Then Chapter 111 hits:

This scene of Lari and Eva is super powerful to me, in the sense that the juxtaposition of the violent, possessive nature between Eva and the Crazy Emperor with the panel of the sweet smiling Lari that’s bloodied, dripping down to literally be the blood on Rupert’s back (or it could be that he’s moving around so much that he’s reopening his wounds and they’re bleeding again <— novel)

It’s interesting becuse i always thought it was rather far-fetched that despite having witnessed these episodes of sexual/domestic violence repeatedly for years, he’s disgusted by it all, yet he treats Lari very well, and they even have a very healthy intimate life after becoming a couple.

But after thinking about the events in chapter 87 and 98, where he worries about his “possessive” feelings after that accidental hug, feeling how soft she is and how nice she smells in 87, and seeing her naked figure, clear skin, soft, wet hair in 98…. Makes me think that in addition to having Rupert having second thoughts about continuing to “own” her in a possessive way and trapping her in the palace (because he wants to keep her by his side but he’s scared of ruining her since she “hates him”), he’s having issues with the physical aspects of developing feelings for her. Readers lightheartedly say that Rupert is feeling horny in these two chapters, and I agree.

I initially thought the manhwa removed the part where Rupert tells her that he’s willing to prove his feelings to her because he wants to hug/kiss/sleep with her, but I think they did include in a roundabout way with this scene: Rupert thinks his rapidly growing physical attraction to Lari, especially after he’s hugged her and saw her bare skin, is a bad thing. He’s a normal guy with hormones, after all. He has a perfectly normal desire for intimacy, to be physically close and connected with his loved one. He wants to reach out to grab her, hug her, but he can’t - because he’s scared of becoming just like the Crazy Emperor.

Rupert thinks his [love] for Lari, is purely [lust] or even just possessiveness. He doesn’t realize that love can be a positive emotion, as he’s only exposed to the negative parts of it.

After all, as someone who’s never experienced love or romance, he wouldn’t understand the difference. All he’s seen is the Crazy Emperor’s so-called [love] for Eva, but it’s just a one-sided assault of him forcing himself on her over and over again, with Eva screaming out in pain and rejection continuously. This type of intimacy is just flat out violating a person. There’s no enjoyment. Just assault.

So with Rupert, who’s realizing his feelings now, with those feelings growing stronger when he sees her crying…. Remembers again the trauma of Eva and the Emperor.

Because with those feelings of her, he’ll end up hurting Lari. He pretended not to know, but believed that Lari’s always hated him. If he touches her, she’ll hate him more. If he forces her to sleep with him, she will absolutely hate him to death. He knows how deep Eva’s hatred for the Crazy Emperor was, and he’s absolutely terrified that the moment he touches Lari inappropriately, that innocent smile will break and she’ll resent him forever, with no chance of forgiveness.

To make it worse, in the manhwa, Rupert imagines Eva wrapping herself Lari, and threatening to choke Lari, as if saying “look, if you dare to get one step closer to her, she’ll end up like me, is that what you want? To be like the Crazy Emperor? The one who killed me?”

So of course he has to let her go, because there’s no way he could ever trap her at the palace like that.

Returning to my original point: the manhwa deviates from the novel by making it much clearer that Rupert doesn’t have yandere qualities of obsession/possession. He’s too self-aware for it.

What I see, is a very lonely, insecure guy who really loves and accepts Lari, who feels that she also understands and cares for him and wants to be exclusive with her. She’s nice and considerate to him, but he thinks that’s her character - she’s just nice and considerate to everyone, including him. She’s very pretty, and considering how there were so many men ogling at her at the debutante, there’s plenty outside of the palace who would also love for the privilege of dating/marrying her. So he just ends up acting jealous and territorial. He can’t force her to do anything, because she’ll hate him for it. There’s not much he can offer her, since she doesn’t need much. He’s too considerate of her feelings and happiness. Lari as well, doesn’t really consider Rupert a possessive/obsessive person. He doesn’t scare her, or creep her out, or makes her nervous. He sometimes says/does childish or weird things, but he’s able to be reasoned with. If he does something unreasonable, they’re able to bicker about it till he stops doing the unreasonable thing. Overall, she’s been pretty happy and comfortable by his side. After all, she’s stopped hating and fearing him since about Ch 59, and once she loses that remaining small % of doubt that he would turn in to Rasperich I, she doesn’t let those fears stop her anymore. Because she’s accepted Rupert for who he is now ^^

#your majesty please spare me this time #rupelali #manhwa #rofan #otome isekai

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real-time-twilight · 1 year

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Eclipse in Real Time

May 22, 2006 (Monday)

Moon Phase: Waning Crescent 🌘

🌄 Sunrise: 5:28 AM

🌅 Sunset : 8:59 PM

Eclipse, Ch. 3 ("Motives") (from Pg. 75, line 18)

8:45 AM (Approx.) - Edward and Bella arrive at school; Edward asks Bella to stay in the car and wait until he comes back; Bella notices Jake with his motorcycle parked on the sidewalk; Edward informs Bella that her assumption regarding Jakes motivation for calling want to see that she was still human, but to plan on talking with Edward in an area with witnesses .

8:50 AM (Approx.) - Edward and Bella approach Jacob; Jacob tells Bella that the Cullens and The Pack had a border dispute involving Emmett and Paul over the weekend; Edward demands that Jacob leave as Bella realises that Edward's real reason for taking Bella to Jacksonville was to get her out of town and away from Victoria

8:57 AM (Approx.) - Principal Greene arrives to formally tell Jacob to vacate the school premises

9:06 AM (Approx.) - Over a series of notes passed in English class, Bella demands the whole story from Edward: Edward explains that Emmett wandered too close to the boundary while chasing Victoria and Paul reacted defensively. Rosalie reacted in kind and Carlisle and Jasper defused the situation.

9:15 AM (Approx.) - Mr. Berty tries to bust Edward and Bella for passing notes in class, only to find that the paper on Edward's desk are his notes on the lesson

11:15 AM (Approx.) - In Calculus, Bella overhears her male classmates (all witnesses to the morning confrontation) betting who would win in a fight between Edward and Jacob

#twilight saga #twilight renaissance #eclipse 🧣#eclipse in real time 🧣#eclipse twilight #twilight saga: eclipse #bella swan #real time twilight #jacob black #edward cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #paul lahote

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sarahfeliciam · 1 month

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The Ultimatum Ch 59

Chapter 59

A few more days time was just enough for Emeline to feel up for the trip to the Burrow to attend Arthur’s funeral alongside her father, Tonks and Sirius.

Before they were to use the floo to arrive in time for the service, Emeline took Sirius to the front garden with her for steadying as she put together two bouquets of wild flowers. She wasn’t as good at this task as George and she felt her floral choice looked rather lame and lackluster, but she was pleased all the same with her sentiment.

“We’re going to be late!” Remus called from the front door, pie he had promised in hand.

Emeline and Sirius set off for the front door again and within moments they’d all lined up at the fireplace and then appeared one by one in the living room of the Burrow.

No one was in the sitting area, but it was tidy and cozy with blankets over armchairs and a candle lit on the coffee table next to a rather handsome photo of a younger Arthur.

Emeline stared at it for quite some time, noticing many of his children’s features stemming from this dashing early snapshot.

It was not enchanted to move, just a simple, muggle - in - appearance photo. With his love for muggles, she liked to believe they’d opted not to enchant the photo on purpose.

Finally, she was broken from her reverie by Molly bustling into the sitting area. She was surprised by two things: to see her in black, as she’d never seen Molly in anything but beige and fall coloration, and that she offered them a smile.

Though forlorn and tear-stained, she still welcomed them warmly.

It actually made Emeline’s stomach turn.

“Molly.” Tonks addressed her lovingly, pulling her into a tight hug first.

She pat her back as she squeezed her, offering her condolences once more.

Next, Remus stepped forward as Sirius transformed into himself from Padfoot and followed behind him. They both embraced her in a protective, joint effort and she kissed both of their cheeks, taking extra time to grab Remus and remind him not to dwell today.

Lastly, Emeline stared at her blankly.

She was wholly unsure of what to say.

She had good memories with Arthur for the most part, but nothing substantial in the regard of one-on-one, aside from their time at the Quidditch World Cup.

Molly, on the other hand, had tried the last few years to fill the motherly void in Emeline’s heart. She was broken for her and utterly horrified that Arthur died because of a change in shift due to Emeline’s own attack.

She still felt guilty that the gratefulness for Remus not being the one dead, won out, as well.

On that note, Molly moved to pull her into a tight hug and she winced in pain.

It was only then Molly noticed the deep gash across her collarbone and gasped lightly.

George entered the room at the same time and they stared at one another silently.

His face was downcast and pale, much like her own. He was wearing an old black suit with a deep maroon tie, Fred trailed behind him in a similiar ensemble, his face only slightly brighter than his twin’s.

George’s eyes absorbed Emeline’s features, taking note of her pallor and long, chesnut hair falling in perfect ringlets down her back and shoulders.

She’d chosen a simple black dress and an older cardigan pull-over that was her mother’s. Her wound was visibly wrapping to the front of her collarbone, which was unavoidable for the most part.

He sucked in a startled breath when he noticed the gash and his face sunk.

“Bloody hell, E, I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my-“

“- these are for you both.” Emeline cut off quickly, holding out the bouquets.

She handed one to Molly and one to George and did not breathe another word.

George kept his distance, taking mental note of her attempt to keep him from discussing the moon and unsure of how to approach her when they’d spent so much time apart.

They felt painfully more mature than the teens who parted ways at Hogwarts that day in preparation for the moon that Greyback attacked on.

Their lives had both been shattered in different scenarios, but shattered no less.

For the first time, an uncomfortable nausea rose in Emeline’s stomach.

Were they too far beyond repair?

“Molly, we’re ready to begin.” Dumbledore interrupted politely.

“Right,” her resolve cracked slightly and an older Weasley that Emeline had not yet met came behind her to take her arm.

He was interesting to her, with his own mess of scars and burns, and a large dragon’s tooth hanging from one ear. His suit was dragon scaled in an eccentric metallic color.

Though having never met before, Emeline knew it was Charlie.

“Let’s go, children.”

They all followed Molly to the backyard which she had set beautifully.

There were little fairy lights lining the pathway to Arthur’s shed, which Emeline was sure looked breathtaking at night. As she followed them down the gravel path to the few chairs that were gathered around the rundown garden, George came beside her and confidently took her hand. She looked up at him, questioning, however he was still fixated straight ahead where a large hole was dug and a simple casket with wildflowers atop it was hovering.

Emeline looked nervously to Remus; she had not expected this and felt anxiety mounting inside of her for some reason.

They’re burying him here!

If Remus was surprised by his daughter’s communication, you’d never have guessed.

He didn’t flinch as he walked hand in hand with Tonks, Sirius following closely behind them.

It’s customary in their family for the Patriarch

I feel sick

Breathe. The dead cannot hurt you, darling

These words resonated with Emeline somehow and gave her a strong sense of peace in her stomach.

Did her guilt somehow make her afraid of Arthur?

Worried of what he’d think?

It was silly.

As they all took their seats, she zoned out as Dumbledore’s voice droned on for all of the Weasley’s (save for Percy), and the Order to hear.

She noticed Harry and Hermione sitting close to Ron and Ginny and made a mental note to make contact with them later.

She fidgeted in her seat a great deal of times, the cold weather hitting her open skin and causing a sudden surge of cringed pain.

It was a beautiful service from the few words she could distinguish out of her haze, and every member of the family stood to say a special something for Arthur.

It was particularly heartbreaking to hear Molly suffer through a six page piece she’d prepared, and the others were not much better.

When it was George’s turn, he looked to his twin and they both stood in unison, stepping in front of the mess of lawn chairs.

“Hiya,” Fred began, bouncing on the balls of his feet as George stood sullenly next to him. “We weren’t sure what exactly to say today, but then we reckoned that dad would be the same. He was quirky and whimsical in all the best ways; A lot like us.”

He nudged George as though it was his turn to cut in what they’d rehearsed and George looked up and glanced around the yard, swallowing thickly before his eyes fell on Emeline.

His countenance changed slightly and he took in a deep breath to begin.

“Right. He was always encouraging of our wild hearts and played in to our crazy dreams…Which is why we’ve decided to leave Hogwarts and open our joke shop early, in his honor.”

The crowd was silent.

Painfully silent.

Eventually, they heard a loud, nearly insane laugh.

Molly

All eyes turned to the Weasley matriarch, whose smile was wide and laugh was infectious, and everyone joined in, dissolving into tears and laughter.

•

When evening fell and many had filtered out of the Burrow, the golden trio and Emeline’s family were all that remained minus Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Having been close to Arthur at the ministry and on recent duties, he felt it his job to aid Molly in any ways he could and was happy to hang around picking up after the service.

Emeline was standing next to Tonks, leaning heavily against the wall nearest them as Remus chatted with Bill Weasley and Sirius.

Eventually, she felt the familiar entwining of fingers and glanced up to see George.

“Come with me.” He whispered.

They left Tonks quickly, who simply offered Emeline a loving nudge on the shoulder and a wink.

George wrapped an arm around her waist as they headed outside, noticing how unsteady she was on her feet.

“Theres a spot down by the lake I’d like to show you. It’s… private.” He said nervously.

She noted how clammy his arm was.

When they’d finally made their way past the clearing and into some foliage surrounding the lake, George unrolled a blanket with just a wave of his wand.

He helped Emeline to sit comfortably with him and she leaned against him eagerly, hopeful that this would solidify her hope: that they could recover.

She looked up at the starry sky, so peaceful with the moon barely apparent.

“E, we’ve had so many challenges lately. It doesn’t feel like us anymore.” He whispered.

She turned to look up at him, anxiety clawing at her stomach.

She nodded curtly.

“I hate it. I’ve been in a right slump and it isn’t your fault. I just…” his voice broke and he shook his head slightly with a sniff. “I could’ve never imagined this would happen to us. My dad was the only one who really believed Fred and I could succeed in our shop. It was so sudden. I’ve been trying to be glue for everyone, but Charlie and Bill mostly took over with mum and.. I’m rambling.” He looked at her sadly, his face fallen further. “And you. I’ve been so wrapped up in something I can’t change that I’ve left the girl I love in the dark in the middle of one of the hardest moments of her life.”

Emeline couldn’t believe the sight before her when George dissolved into tears.

He shook from crying as he threw his wand to the ground and Emeline pulled him close to her, rubbing his back.

“George.” Her voice was soothing and gentle. His head in his hands, he did nothing to respond. “You’re right to respond to this however you need to. I have missed you, but I don’t hold it against you. I was afraid, maybe, you didn’t want this anymore.”

He looked up, then, his face completely void of color now as he grabbed her hands and looked at her intently. “Merlin, no. Never. I told you I loved you, E and I mean it. I love you, whether we are the only people in the world left or not. This has changed none of my feelings for you.”

“And what about me?” She motioned to the gash on her shoulder, unable to find the right words for what to call herself. “Has your mind changed because of-“

In response, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss against her collarbone.

She was suddenly freezing and, surprisingly, it had nothing to do with the forty degrees they were currently nestled in.

“George.” She started, closing her eyes as he shook his head and moved to kiss her neck softly.

“Nothing has changed.” He replied thickly, moving one hand under her hair and running his fingers along her head.

She rested one hand on his thigh and the other she snaked through his hair, too.

It was cut shorter now, and she found it incredibly attractive.

They quickly became tangled in this mess of snogging and touching, breathless and tempted to take it further, alone under the stars.

It took every bit of strength George had to pull back, holding her at arms length as they watched one another, chests heaving and George’s first few buttons undone.

“Not here. Not like this, Emeline. I love you. I want the best for you.” He swept a curl out of her face and leaned in to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Her eyes closed once more as she nodded.

“I love you, too.”

The coo of owls and the wind rustling through the brush lulled them peacefully as they silently sat there for a while longer.

Eventually, her aching muscles beckoned her and Emeline laid back on the blanket, watching the stars awestruck as they joined hands, George lying right by her side.

“So tell me more about this shop,” Emeline smiled. “I want to hear everything.”

“Only if I get to hear all about your new alter ego.”

“Deal.” She whispered.

They spent many more hours like that, talking under the stars about the future and the past; giving their souls and hearts some much needed rest.

They didn’t move until they were beckoned inside by Bill, who promised that if they came in now, he would not be telling anyone’s mother or father that they were in such a state of indecency.

George rolled his eyes, muttering something about three buttons and one dress sleeve, to which Emeline blushed, knowing damn well that would be enough for her father’s exasperation.

As they trailed back to the Burrow, Bill smiled warmly down at her.

“I really like your dad, Emeline. I’d met him before, as a child. He told me all about what’s happened.. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiled, hiding her grimace. The walk was long and she was tiring of doing it for the second time.

“Georgie, you should be carrying your girl. Poor dove.” He joked sarcastically.

Emeline snickered as George rolled his eyes.

Nevertheless, he scooped her up before she could protest and she squealed in surprise.

“Still think you can beat me in a race?” George asked thoughtfully.

“I know I can.” Bill declared.

With that, they took off running, and the exhilaration took Emeline’s breath away as they raced back to the Burrow, all the while her arms were wrapped around George’s neck for dear life.

She was so lively and happy with laughter when they burst through the front door, that Remus’ was slightly taken aback at the sight of his playful, relaxed girl.

He was so thrilled to see this side of her again, in fact, that he couldn’t even muster the fatherly instinct to inquire about those three little buttons and one, off-shoulder dress sleeve.

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. There are so many layers to losing Arthur for all of the Weasley’s, and those points will come up, but if I focus too long on it, we’ll go so far off track. We have a meeting with Umbridge to attend and getting ready to wrap up Order of the Phoenix as we approach the Department of Mysteries. We’re slowly but surely gearing up to Half Blood Prince. I’m so excited and grateful for all of the support! ❤️

Extra note: you all may be confused by Dumbledore not being approached for Emeline’s admittance, or him being around at all considering Umbridge has already ‘fired’ him. It wasn’t the time or place, and I did need to leave the story open for this upcoming meeting. 🥰

#harry potter #sirius black #remus daughter #remus lupin x daughter #professor lupin #remus lupin #remuslupin daughter #nymphadora tonks #george weasley

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manifesto-fact · 9 months

Text

Sequel- Log-blog of Some Reality fr. manifesto-fact.blogspot.com

凡走过必留下痕迹。历史的先声往往被忽略，历史的后声会层出不穷且会检视出满目疮痍的厚黑于留下之痕迹。

2024-1-28-P.S. More paragraphs added at the end.

2024-1-3 有人听到我说的法学院绝非市面上普通法学院，那是有关天地人神密切相交的法度，真理，真道。受益于台湾宋七力教授发明的所谓“分身”假说之冒牌者需要被提醒- 没有掂量台湾周董事长承仁先生的人间法度- 连女婿也不认识（前述拿女婿做球给你看）-非佛教主义者，吃了这个便宜饭，后果更严重。如果是拥有真光真道的真先知真教授，比方说以赛亚在以赛亚书38章中有真神的能力(时空法度)，就不会为耶稣做反见证；无情无义的现实告诉大家，伪类已经导致了他人走不好路，也制造了耶稣所说的offense-Woe to the world because of the causes of sin. For the stumbling blocks must come, but woe to the man by whom the offense comes! （Matt.18:7）；deliberately letting truth be failed（e.g.指鹿为马），要接受divine remedies/corrections （Isaiah 59：13-15 & 18），Holy Bible rule of truth can't be forfeited. Yesterday texting to Harbinger's Daily msg. board: I'm a donor of Harbinger's daily and a recipient of email Sunday Edition, but last Sunday it was missing or encountered malicious hacker- those insidious kleptocrats out of ulterior motivation are afraid of my reading top story "Divine judgment-One of The Bible's Most ‘Offensive’Teachings?", really fall into "Being a thief, feeling untenable". What happened to me is totally offenses(regarding deer as horse, installing stumbling blocks etc., which Jesus predicted), divine justice/judgment is not only appropriate but also much-needed.

manifesto-fact.blogspot encountering issue, shysters are so unscrupulous that they deter my posting and enjoy themselves being the cushion of the strict press censorship of Chinese Communist party.

没有法度，人世间没有人世间，你懂的, God must speed Isa.51:6. 有关耶稣基督在大白宝座scenario之一，2023-NOV-9-10 log-blog 提到时空压缩成麻花，数理逻辑上temporal-spacial dimension 变成一坨Non-Euclidean topology even iso-topology.

2024-1-8 Revised this morning Rev. Lewis Johnson did hermeneutics on propitiation(from SLJ institute)-God's plan for the ages-the finished work of Christ, I try to summarize in my understanding: which is the perfect solution through Jesus, Son of God/Son of Man's sacrifice on the cross to provide atonement as a paragon and free gift to transform the humanity sins into a state of being forgiven and to re-create humanity, which satisfies the Holy Father. AS for his mentioning "when God looks down from heaven upon men, he does not see human distinctions such as we see", I think God is immanent and omniscient ,cf. Luke 12:7 God knows how many hairs you have on your head. 新约教徒万世一系于order of Melchizedek：Genesis 14:18-20 and Hebrews Ch.7，且是旧约的延续（Melchizedek 是祭司及君王），耶稣集先知，祭司，君王于一身。摩西法规君王与祭司不能相容-防止绝对权力绝对腐败（历代志下26章，撒母儿记上10：8&13：8-11，Pastor Dean Dwyer在HB Daily强调），看来，只有地球上无父无母的Melchizedek作为son of God,非从属人类私欲，才有资格. 吴祚来 @wuzuolai 民主政治，争权是为了分利。主要是个人利益，国家利益分配问题，但左派喜欢赋予国家宏大的使命，譬如拯救世界，要影响气候变化。左边的政治实用原则是用福利拉票又用空大的政治使知识人大学生们追捧与中共一样，高的比你高，低的破底线。境界很高手段卑劣玩宣传玩权术炉火纯青。某种意义上是理想主义进步主义革命主义与实利主义保守主义价值主义博弈交锋 11:58 AM · Jan 7, 2024 改变思想的还有利益。共产党人打天下时的思想与坐天下时的思想是不同的，为什么，因为权力带来利益，他们很快从革命变成反革命。这就是，共产党苏联与中共，等，从国际主义很快就退回到国族主义，最后变成党派，变成黑社会一样的小团伙。是权与利益改变了他们思想。… Lucia🍊🍊fight for Trump顶流川粉 @ChooLucia 美国著名物理学家李.斯莫林说:“当思想改变你的思想，那就是哲学，当上帝改变你的思想，那就是信仰，当事实改变你的思想，那就是科学，当一个人既没有思想又不信宗教还罔顾事实的时候，远离他！不要浪费你的宝贵时间！8:59 PM · Jan 6, 2024

前阵子海外非中共中文网路上在播一个很古早的台湾新闻- 高级物理学家叶企孙在1950年代蒋中正治下的台湾被沦落至街头，不知是从台湾淘宝还是周恩来的新闻官早就定向攫取在对内外文宣中-有关万恶的资本主义阴暗面，关键点是其生存权决不是失去于指鹿为马与无法度，而是财产事务没有被妥善打理，有人别有用心推出，那是illuminati godfather 马戏团左手右手为了cope with the debunking of their conspiracy- 当今民贼盗国贼自编自导自演自我伟光正地通过指鹿为马奸诈贪婪豪夺民脂民膏，演戏给你看，装猪装逼来吃人。最近几天居然有新版的叶企孙（江苏江阴人员）在纽约被报道沦落街头，今天看到follow-up报道，原来此人是自作孽的赌棍输光身家，绝非美国社会与政府亏待他.

2024-1-15 Posted, 2024-1-14 updated 路德先生与郭文贵先生所提的“九层妖塔”应该就是那九层蛤蟆叠罗汉成一坨怪兽于台海风水要津之地，形成巨大能量场，在“这黑水沟，你懂的”地方不时卷起阵阵阴风阴火，可翻江倒海，企图一手遮天，予取予求。在台湾的中国人教授李敖与宋七力已经教会了对岸Chinese Communist Party toad-master authority how to be “Shysteracy as Humanity/Manliness”（李宗吾语）& "Ugly Chinaman and Crisis"(柏杨Google book-English)- 通过“横着走路（李敖语）”的“分身（宋七力发明）”来“吃人够够（陈致中语）”。鄙人在log-blog中一再强调我的身份证- 成为一仆一主的大英帝国女王陛下子民，此汉非彼汉，汉学家的汉，不要让汉学家“汉贼不两立”。最近网路上又出现对文革负面记忆的回忆，引发我对文革重灾区（Mao's stronghold）有关人与事的进一步述评，被拥有1948年第一届南京国府中央研究院强大阵容的前几名大学DQ的人（前述陈敏章，杭州赶走郁知非教授的两黄），1949年后，是毛方针野蛮登堂入室的既得利益者，毛政策的使徒行传，行毛国柞之礼数-公牛闯进瓷器店 = 我的见证-亲眼目睹毛分子打砸光我祖母珍藏的景德镇有皇家纹路的瓷器。 In the case of OBSI, accompanying the end-time phenomenon，mainly godless/lawless(圣经贴撒罗尼亚后书 2 Thess. Ch.2)； what Jesus regarded （Pharisee） is reinforced；台湾李敖影响力无国界，不仅只教会毛国祚的贪官国贼民贼“横着走路”（李敖变成毛国祚一部分，难怪对号入座Ezekiel Ch.24 scum）。such situation means the kingdom, power and glory belongs to CCP-Chairman Mao's scoundrel movement which was greatly promoted in China- no different from the organized crime. Please convey my msg. to them: Long live your great leader Chairman Mao not enough or Your great leader Chairman Mao long live not enough.

2024-1-17

有些事务不能搭错界。我不知当年那位有些基督教信仰的Wong大夫是否知悉圣经中对于vision/dream是提示式，与预言的生成有关，请参阅Joel 2:28/Acts 2:17, 于是在我的大命小命问题上就不会出现令人遗憾的被中共轻易利用的摧毁人生的孽缘（精神分析上医患搭错界），

另一个例子是吴弘达先生的第一任太太陈XX女士（曾为中华民国在UN口译员，像以前的华航小姐背着国旗）与一度所雇佣的助手搭错界- 毛泽东亲家的养子/继子 Li, Qian-wei居然可以在美国莫逢杰先生处政治庇护（说是萌生反毛意念，是林立果的分身？），但是在我面前又表现出毛周的mentality- 对于大洛杉矶侨界有人张显中华民国国旗极度反感（连对中华民国国旗国歌国徽没有好感的绿色侨界人员也在举-外交礼仪使然，e.g. 李故总统登辉先生过境L.A.逗留Ritz-Carlton期间），好像是CCP外交官在国际官方场合看到一样. 还有可以令人探究的是，他一个劲儿在我面前说莫逢杰先生与伍凡先生是死对头- 我与伍凡先生从未谋面过。中国的“乡讪”是有名的，去问鲁迅先生。

2024-1-19 有关这条大命小命，继续Been thinking about随笔。1990‘s 前半叶，我祖父母拥有的中华民国光洋时期债券已寄到台北，时任Lee Teng-hui Administration财政部长的是新党王建瑄先生;令人遗憾的是连“庚子赔款换学费”都没有，无法继续我的MBA生涯规划（cf.foregoing & 同时期朱云来），让这条大命小命无辜地被marooned；对于南京中央国府遗留（沦陷）大陆人员享受美蒋特务叶常棣待遇熟视无睹，还侈谈什么新党信念- 中华民国简称中国（宪法一章一节），主权涵盖整个秋海棠地图。 Illuminati-KGB-godfather-circus gamer always gaming- e.g. 毛国柞马戏团左手右手经常玩游戏给你看，反右急先锋邓小平当年杀气腾腾，等到文革后，扮猪吃老虎（华国锋下台），霸王硬上弓（胡耀邦赵紫阳事件），子系中山狼，得志便猖狂，得了便宜再卖乖，见不到他人好，两面三刀典型，让“烈火见真金”彰显在三个没有被平反的右派-authentic/genuine右派（其余都redress，remedies，reparations）。毛国柞的商君书愚民/驭民术叹为观止，让达摩克里斯之剑永远悬在有思想的知识分子头上，迫害-利用-再迫害。 1989-64镇压后像李敖进入大陆的要靠镇压64的最大既得利益者江世俊之子的肩膀发洋财（cf.foregoing），赚得杯钵满盆，我必须向他们学习致敬，多拍马屁才有生存可能，所以要坚决拥护双手赞成江世俊父子在南京唱“支那之夜”，网上在重温海参威前世今生，1995年到期，江总裁让给了普京，有人大加鞭挞，在我看来，哪里哪里，那是沙俄帝国罗曼诺夫王朝固有领土，应该礼让整个东三省。

2024-1-22

接19日Log-blog, 无独有偶，像那位江总裁一样是苏俄帝国的爱国者，中共开国政治局常委元老高岗先生曾提議將東三省併入蘇聯：https://www.epochtimes.com/b5/24/1/21/n14163583.htm，显然是伟大的CCP光辉历程一部分；鄙人只是发言致敬他们的嗜好。

2024-1-23

一则网闻引人注目：手举五星旗小粉红对英国钢琴家耍混竟以为是在中国 https://www.soundofhope.org/post/786889

Let's do further analysis in neutral stand: Scenario one，不排除是有些小粉红们意犹未尽前二年的白纸运动，继续在海外街头行为艺术- political pastiche/parody/burlesque/behavior arts to satirize Beijing regime in the name of PRC law. Scenario two，与左翼小资产阶级费边社马戏团（装蒜+编码）如出一辙，施展truculence伎俩，testing the bottom-line of western civilization. Scenario three, 大清帝国官轿出行，衙役打头阵高举“肃静回避”牌，让一切小民百姓退避三舍，在CBD弹钢琴的就像街头拉二胡卖艺的，岂容损害官威；on the other hand.只是露出尾巴-欲盖弥彰CCP大清帝国达官贵人显要进入商城的不方便（要被非我类照镜子）。果如此，则可以探究这个现代大清帝国的CCP力量是如何被壮大的：The last glimpse of the sunset in the horizon was captured in 1989 before the TAM-SQ massacre that the BBC London was broadcasting documentary “From Plato to NATO” to demonstrate the value of western civilization(the Greco-Roman culture, the rule of law based upon Christianity), unfortunately, since H.W. paid tribute to Deng Xiao-ping TAM-SQ massacre(Brent Scowcroft and Lawrence Eagleburger as his envoy)，the entire value of the west has been increasingly prone to be overwritten by such "Dragon at the Door" phenomenon(cf. Ottawa MLI project trying to fend off it),the landscape of civilization and political spectrum tend to be homogenized by Beijing's influence/arrangement. The red dragon has thrusted the West into abysmal dimension. Please refer to Mr. Matthew Pottinger's testimony： American know-how and capital are seeds and fertilizer from which China’s formidable military might has sprouted.-Pottinger https://docs.house.gov/meetings/FA/FA00/20240117/116738/HHRG-118-FA00-Wstate-PottingerM-20240117.pdf ，and you can understand why.

2024-1-26

【百年真相】鐵證：中共最早倡導「台獨」 https://www.epochtimes.com/b5/24/1/17/n14160607.htm ， which means CCP is the origin of the dynamics and incentives in regards to pro-independence movement in Taiwan, 这当然是一贯伟大光荣正确的中国共产党这个百年老店的光辉历程之一，全宇宙理当坚决拥护双手赞成一贯标榜掌握宇宙真理的CCP这个光辉点数。

2024-1-27

洛杉矶小台北不简单，前述1993年从小台北寄航空信到大台北发生麻烦. 前几年连英国《卫报》都报道了某位在民运圈有头有脸的人物被FBI逮个正着-dubbed No.1 co-conspirator(其轨迹上海-香港-夏威夷-基隆-洛杉矶，周日也常去教会), 为了几万元钱，出卖自我，出卖他人（要改朝换代毛国柞的仁人志士)，敬请参阅传教士写的《The Enemy Within: An Eyewitness Account Of The Communist Conquest Of China》byRaymond J. de Jaegher & Irene Corbally Kuhn . 还有一件事不得不提，大约近一个decade前，上海新民晚报前后不到半年揭弊了两家公司“中晋公司” 与“钧遥公司”，他们事后怎么不还钱？前述（1/15/2023）的九层妖塔=九阴妖塔=九只蛤蟆红魔发出邪魔功力九阴白骨爪，黑吃黑，这个厚黑程度不知超过李宗吾与柏杨描述多少倍，只是不要搭错界圆山俱乐部南京中央国府相关交互点，你懂得。

多年前陶XX本来要还债的20万美元据说也在民运圈生发了混世魔王- 要知道一个人的大命损失痛苦指数及物价上涨指数加权起来，债务累计是几何级数/指数函数计量的；至于在台北被刑事起诉开庭的“团练”20万美元碰巧是镜像？ Better off not to be seen through by foreign sinologist that the possibility that yellow peril. dragon peril and Xenu peril are easily generated is taken for granted.

2024-1-28 P.S. 在教会中对上述FBI描述对象是知人知面不知心，毛国祚白莲教三合会CCP如影随形似鬼（偏偏尼克松基辛格就是着迷中共盗国官员有天文数字财产），搞sabotage得心应手，wherever you go. 无独有偶，the DVD "Enemies Within the Church""composed by Cary Gordon 可以帮助解答问题- 完全配套延申上述已故传教士写的《The Enemy Within：An Eyewitness Account Of The Communist Conquest Of China 》， the kingdom , power and glory of western civilization could be handed over to quasi-白莲教white lotus evil cult if current trend deepened; the only way to cope with evil tidings is God speed divine intervention.

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stateofsport211 · 1 year

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Prague 3 Ch QF: Joao Sousa [5] def. Luciano Darderi [3] 7-5, 3-6, 7-6(3) Match Stats

📸 ATP Challenger Livestream (via website)

Besides the second set dip, where Darderi tried to raise his game and thus affected J. Sousa’s pacing, everything was equal in one sense or another. Some moments boiled down to a few points like their forehand winners, but a proper follow-up was necessary for them to stand out. This was behind the reason that even if both players had a 40% break point conversion rate out of 5 opportunities to break, it all came down to J. Sousa’s forehand in the third set tie-breaker, where he regained his pace and Darderi’s baseline game fell apart since.

Interesting things unfolded regarding their service games, where Darderi stood out through his first serves instead with a 8% difference, added by his 7 aces compared to J. Sousa. However, J. Sousa often went after Darderi’s second serves and vice versa, which led to a 1% margin between them, with J. Sousa being in the lead with 59% winning percentage. The latter also double-faulted thrice compared to Darderi’s 4 double faults, hence Darderi’s second serves faded a little toward the end of the match.

In an interesting semifinal encounter due to it being a battle of the generations, J. Sousa will face Gabriel Debru, who earlier defeated Toby Alex Kodat 7-6(4), 6-7(7), 6-4 in a close and thrilling match. While this match would also end up contesting their return depth, their controlled aggression and baseline game (through their rallies) would also be tested, as both players have the considerable power possible to elevate the match that would boil down to their point construction. This could be an exciting encounter, one of those matches to watch while waiting for the US Open qualifying rounds, schedule permitting. Should be a fun watch/follow!

#atp world tour #atp tour #atp challenger #atp challenger tour #tennis updates #match stats #prague 3 challenger #ibg prague open by moneta money bank #joao sousa #luciano darderi #WatchChallengersFolks #ChallengerMatters

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drsorrell · 2 years

Text

Mon. 2.27.23 (SVC, Core Writing)

Announcements & Reminders

Keep up with InQuizitives and Chapter Tutorials (no joke-story and reminder emails)!

Comments on Friday's online activity are looking towards Paper #2. The Friday online activities count as class attendance and are an integral part of the thinking and writing process.

Notes on Paper #1 (We might talk about this Wednesday to make sure we have time to fully discuss the readings today.)

I don't always notice everything every time I read your paper--sometimes it takes me until the final draft to realize something.

PAPER STRUCTURE

Diagram

Develop a unique thesis statement that is not the same as the author.

Then use this unique thesis statement to set up each paragraph so that each paragraph helps explore an aspect of the thesis statement.

Introduce all texts and authors in the intro paragraph. End this with your thesis.

THESIS

You must follow your bold and original ideas and treat them as seriously as you do the authors' throughout.

Make your own thesis more unique and distinct from what the author is saying. Can you extend what he is saying to a new population? Point out something he is missing or forgot about.

Work on figuring out your own unique thesis as you write, then announcing it up front and backing it up throughout. Your actual thesis often happens in the conclusion!

1 Match the thesis with the overall content OR 2 (better option) Reread your conclusion, then go back and rework your paper to support it so that you are making a stronger case for these points in each body paragraph too.

TOPIC SENTENCES & PARAGRAPH STRUCTURE

Keep making your topic sentences accurately reflect the whole paragraph, not just the author's idea. The author is only 1/2 of the paragraph.

Set up your paragraphs so that your idea and theirs are present in the topic sentence. This keeps entire paragraphs from just going over what the author already said.

Regarding paragraph structure, think of it more like we did in class: topic sentence, TS evidence, IS evidence.

QUOTES

Make sure you discuss all your quotes thoroughly after using them, not just to summarize the author's ideas but also to connect them to your own ideas.

Make sure you sandwich your quotes and use parenthetical citation.

Mehta, Frum, and Close Reading Quotes

“Might you consider that by our moving here we will make things better—not just economically but also culturally? That there is something worthwhile in the cultures we bring with us—all of us, not just the Asian model minorities—and some of it is something that you can learn from?“ (Mehta 465)

“Yet the true bottom line is this: Neither the fiscal costs nor the economic benefits of immigration are large enough to force a decision one way or the other. Accept the most negative estimate of immigration’s dollar costs, and the United States could still afford a lot of immigration. Believe the most positive reckoning of the dollar benefits that mass immigration provides, and they are not so large that the United States would be crazy to refuse them“ (Frum 477).

Homework

TODAY: Complete the following InQuzitive by the end of the day (11:59 pm deadline): “Subject-Verb Agreement Errors.”

FOR WEDNESDAY Read Ch. 7, “‘SO WHAT? WHO CARES’: Saying Why It Matters” (96-106).

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constitutionaladvocate · 2 years

Video

youtube

Police tried to stop a copwatcher from filming them, this is what happen..

bill of rights news

2/23/2023 2:59:56 PM

Are you a slave?

I am not, but I go to a job for a unknown master ?

Do I work for myself? do I protect myself?

Who is the mater you or me?

How come homeless people are free?

What caused homeless people to not continue to be a slave?

Who really is free?

I am free because I have a gun and I know the law?

What protects true freedom?

The Constitution contract protects the true freedom and Gods law?

Will you be free tomorrow? I will be free for all and until I die?

We the people are slaves, and most don’t even know it? are you a slave? codes statutes rules and proclamations and orders that are in conflict with real freedom is slavery? not thinking for yourself or protecting your self is slavery?

when are you not a slave, when you know the difference between freedom and slavery in all forms of trickery so called laws that are not laws at all ?

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/peonage

https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/18/1581

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slave_codes

https://www.pbs.org/tpt/slavery-by-another-name/themes/peonage/

https://www.britannica.com/topic/peonage

(a)Whoever holds or returns any person to a condition of peonage, or arrests any person with the intent of placing him in or returning him to a condition of peonage, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 20 years, or both. If death results from the violation of this section, or if the violation includes kidnapping or an attempt to kidnap, aggravated sexual abuse or the attempt to commit aggravated sexual abuse, or an attempt to kill, the defendant shall be fined under this title or imprisoned for any term of years or life, or both.

(b)Whoever obstructs, or attempts to obstruct, or in any way interferes with or prevents the enforcement of this section, shall be liable to the penalties prescribed in subsection (a).

(June 25, 1948, ch. 645, 62 Stat. 772; Pub. L. 103–322, title XXXIII, § 330016(1)(K), Sept. 13, 1994, 108 Stat. 2147; Pub. L. 104–208, div. C, title II, § 218(a), Sept. 30, 1996, 110 Stat. 3009–573; Pub. L. 106–386, div. A, § 112(a)(1), Oct. 28, 2000, 114 Stat. 1486.)

Slavery

Slavery is the ownership of person as property, especially in regards to their labor. Slavery typically involves some form of work with the slave's location of work and residence dictated by the enslaver.Wikipedia

2/23/2023 1:40:40 PM

boy are you wrong. wow. i can and you can as a free agency under the one and only God with many names can name anything he wants , because there is no other Gods, only one God, and anything else claimed is backed by evil.

so, what is God evil or good? good is God love is GOD. anything pertaining to God is good, and any other thing is evil, you be the judge,

as any name you want to al God, bit do not use his name in vain, to evil. make sense, free agency to choose, good or evil name is not irrelevant name does not matter , the spirit matters good of bad, simple.

#youtube

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grewlikefancyflowers · 3 years

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‘Intrusion’ extra, what it says about Jiang Cheng’s role in MDZS, and how Wei Wuxian looks back on his past with the Jiangs

I said back in like June that I’d write meta on this and then put it off for a few months, oops! Here we are, finally!

First things first, both the ‘Intrusion’ and ‘Iron Hook’ extras are not just silly romps featuring married wangxian and fanservice, as some people seem to believe?? I’d say both of them clear up pretty neatly, for those that are still confused, points of contention in the fandom - such as Wei Wuxian’s heroism, and Jiang Cheng’s role as an antagonist. Specifically, if his actions were justified or sympathetic, and if he was punished unfairly by the narrative.

The first and most obvious statement made in ‘Intrusion’ is the parallel between the story of Young Master Qin (YMQ), and JC and WWX’s youths. I’ll summarise quickly the relationship between YMQ and the fierce corpse that has been bothering him.

They grew up together in YMQ’s grandmother’s house, since they were a similar age they played together

The fierce corpse (FC) was a servant in YMQ’s grandmother’s household

The grandmother took a liking to FC, and he was in some ways treated less like a servant, and more like a member of their clan, and was allowed to attend school with the other boys

YMQ specifically notes that his grandmother used to praise FC a lot

YMQ describes a story at the school in which someone answered a question, and FC incorrectly claimed he answered wrongly. When FC pushed the matter, the other students became annoyed and drove him out of the class

It is very heavily implied (to the point where ‘implied’ isn’t really the right word) that ‘someone’ was YMQ, that he had actually answered the question wrongly, and that he felt shown up by someone he felt should be below him proving so, and that he led the other boys in driving FC away

FC left the school and didn’t attend again

I probably don’t need to lay out where the similarities are…?

In response to YMQ’s story, Wei Wuxian (rhetorically) says this - ‘“Regarding the solution to that problem, in the end, who was right and who was wrong?”’

Aside from just exposing the kind of person YMQ is, in reference to a story wherein ‘FC’ is clearly a stand in for WWX, and YMQ for JC, MXTX’s decision to highlight specifically that it was FC that had the right solution to the problem is not insignificant. Nor how she specifies that he was the instigator of FC’s expulsion, while hiding behind the mob mentality of the other students.

Another interesting detail is that YMQ deliberately obscures the truth throughout the chapter, because despite his refusal to acknowledge it, possibly even to himself, he knows that between him and FC he is the one in the wrong. Similarly, JC obscures the truth about WWX, to the wider cultivation world during the period of WWX’s ‘downfall,’ (Ch.73) but also, more importantly, to JL after WWX’s death. JL believes that WWX ordered WN to kill both JZX and JYL (Ch.42). Of course, if JC did not have a guilty conscience, he would not feel it necessary to lie about these things. Or rather, convince himself that they are true, as he still blames WWX for the deaths of his parents’ and JYL and the end of the story (Ch.102).

YMQ’s attitude about servants is bad enough that it upsets Sizhui quite a lot, and shortly after their interaction with him, we have this exchange between LSZ and Wangxian.

‘Lan SiZhui thought about it, “I do not know either.” He responded with honesty, “He never did anything truly evil, but perhaps I find it difficult to deal with people of such character. I do not particularly like the tone with which he mentioned the word ‘servant’…”

He paused at this point. Wei WuXian was oblivious to it, “Typical, typical. Most of the people in this world looks down upon servants. Servants sometimes even look down upon themselves… Why are you two looking at me like that?”

Halfway through, he interrupted, not knowing whether to laugh or frown, “Stop—is there a misunderstanding here? How could I compare? Lotus Pier isn’t the usual household, after all. I’ve beaten Jiang Cheng up way more times than he’s ever beaten me!”

Lan WangJi didn’t say anything, but instead gave him a silent hug. Wei WuXian couldn’t help but smiled. He hugged back, stroking Lan WangJi’s back a couple of times. Lan SiZhui coughed. Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he was finally at ease.’

There’s a lot going on here...

Firstly, WWX definitely does not think badly of himself because his father was a servant, because WWX doesn’t think badly of servants. It is also true that Lotus Pier wasn’t so strict with hierarchy as other sects (Ch.51, Ch.71), and that WWX and JC sometimes playfully fought on equal terms in their youths. But WWX was also very clearly treated badly in the Jiang household due to his status, notably by YZY (Ch.51, Ch.56, Ch.57, Lotus Seed Pod extra), JC does also repeatedly enact real physical violence against WWX, that he simply brushes off (Ch.56, Ch.59). You could argue that the example from Ch.59 is under extenuating circumstances and therefore should not count, but the same excuse cannot apply to Ch.56.

Knowing this, Lan Wangji’s response to this, to hug WWX, does not feel casual at all. Instead it comes across as if he is offering comfort, which WWX accepts.

Finally, this exchange finishes with ‘Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he [LSZ] was finally at ease.’ To me, this seems to suggest that the entire purpose of this was not at all reader directed exposition about how good and equal the Jiang household was, but rather a WWX-typical veneer meant to appease LSZ’s concerns (taking a moment to quietly fangirl about how good MXTX is at ‘show, don’t tell’). Also suggests that WWX is aware on some level that he was treated badly, and LWJ is too - presumably, it is something that they have spoken about.

Continuing with the story of YMQ and FC…

YMQ returns to his home village as an adult wearing a jade pendant that belonged to his now deceased grandmother

FC asks to borrow it, YMQ allows it, thinking FC is missing his grandmother

FC returns telling him he has lost the pendant, YMQ thinks he has actually sold it, and has him beaten, it is very heavily implied that he breaks his leg

In the present, YMQ admits that he doesn’t actually think FC would have gone so far as to sell something of his grandmother’s

This is reflective of JC’s attitude towards WWX throughout his life, with regards to how he frequently comes to the worst conclusions about him, without having any real evidence, and lashes out at him for it. I spoke about this a bit before here. Most notable example is probably during their conversation in the demon-slaughtering cave wherein they discuss WWX’s defection, and JC decides that WWX is acting carelessly and playing the hero, though admits himself that WWX is following the Jiang Sect’s teachings, then declares WWX an enemy of the cultivation world behind his back.

The ambiguity of FC’s death, and YMQ’s role in it discussed in part 3 of the extra is referencing WWX’s own death, and JC’s role in it. In the end the conclusion is that whether or not YMQ was responsible, FC did not hold him to it.

In the end, FC is content to simply throw some fruit, and punch YMQ in the face in vengeance for his death, and even goes out of his way to avoid hurting LSZ when he is fighting him. He returns the jade pendant, that he really did lose and not steal, and goes back to resting peacefully.

WWX, LWJ, and LSZ’s views on YMQ’s fate are as follows

‘Lan WangJi gently tugged Lil’ Apple’s rein, his voice calm, “He was fortunate.”

Wei WuXian agreed, “Indeed. Young Master Qin has got quite the luck.”

After some time, Lan SiZhui finally couldn’t hold his words back any longer. Sincerely, he spoke, “But I still feel that only one punch might be a bit insufficient…”’

JC didn’t even get a punch to the face. I’d say he got off very lightly indeed.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #jiang cheng #jc wank #wei wuxian

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scalamore · 1 year

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Thoughts on RupeLali’s [touch] Pt 1

it amuses me that Rupelali are just so touchy in the manhwa. Novel rupelali is SUPER touchy after they become official, but before then, touch is used very deliberately and sparingly in comparison. But here’s some thoughts for fun from the manhwa perspective: My thoughts: I think, that Lari is originally the huggy and affectionate type, and that influences Rupert’s comfort level with touch as well. So as we know during Rupert’s backstory, is that his mother never gave him any sort of affection, whether emotional or physical. Tory never did, and there’s no way crazy emperor or the queen’s faction did either. He’s always been alone this whole time, and the only touch he’s received was physical violence from Arnulf and Crazy emperor. We can see this in Ch 32ish, where Lari reaches out to grab his shirt to slow him down, and he strikes out reflexively at her (no intention to hurt her, just a response). In Ch 45, he thinks about Lari and how she’s just so different - including how she’s always laughing, smiling, and just so huggy to the shabby Tory, or the boisterous raccoon that doesn’t like her. She just radiates “affection” to those around him. Like a typical noble girl working at the palace, for the most part, Lari is respectful to him and keeps a proper distance from him. Again, she’s cheerful and brightens up the atmosphere, but she doesn’t ever get close.

Meanwhile, Rupert’s the one that touches Lari first, whether it’s by pinching her cheeks or flicking her forehead when he’s annoyed with her. Those are all friendly actions imo. Also regarding etiquette, Rupert knows that it’s improper for someone to sit next to him without his permission, but Lari tends to do so anyways - In Ch 27,ish,Ch 29ish, Ch 59, Ch 68 (?), and the latest in Ch 92. Every time she does so, she wants to talk to him to understand him better, offer tiger balm, or help him out in some way. He may have berated her at the start, but lately he just lets her sit beside him without complaints.

Earlier in the series he tends to hold her chin, as she had a habit of avoiding eye contact with him, but as he grew more comfortable with her he tended to be more open with wanting to be with her more/continue the conversation, and would often grab her arm, stopping her from leaving, or pulling her closer and making her stop. After he became Crown Prince, he’s been uncharacteristically more touchy with her - often pulling her to his side in a more protective stance, claiming she belongs to him and to not lay a hand on her - which baffles Lari because he’s too close.

When Rupert needed her to get rid of the cursed seal in chaper 86 - both were flustered with the physical closeness; Lari was drawing on his bare skin, and him holding in his discomfort at the tickling sensation on his shoulder.

As a a reminder, it’s very improper for someone to dare touch the body of a member of the royal family member; that crime is enough to be punished by death or imprisonment. Yet Rupert’s always allowed Lari’s touch. Whenever he was sick (Ch 28ish, Ch 68, 86), he never admitted it to her, but he liked it when he was hurting or ill and he felt her hand oh his forehead, her placing a moist towel to reduce the fever, and how she stayed beside him to make sure he was ok. He was annoyed but also appreciative at the same time.

While previously he may have held her chin to force eye contact, lately he’s been more gentle and held/caressed her cheek, getting her attention that way (Ch 88, 92). He didn’t even mind how she pushed him away in Ch 88, 91, or how she gripped his shirt tightly. Lari as well, has started to naturally be more touchy towards him too. In Ch 92, I LOVED the focus on her holding his hand (manhwa only). As she tells him how she may have originally hated him, she doesn’t anymore and she truly wants him to be happy, you can see how she reaches out and hesitantly grabs his hand with a light touch, his hands relax and he allows her to pull his hand toward herself. Seeing that he was ok with her touch she tightens her grip and his hand fidgets a bit from the contact, but he still allows her to continue holding it for a bit before she lets go. Here’s some cute info from future content: Rupert is still not completely used to being touched by others, even Lari, even though he permits it. He still reflexively flinches slightly and tenses up whenever she touches him, but he recovers pretty quickly. I believe this is the first time she maintains skin contact via hand holding for so long in the manhwa (this is a separate vol 5 + 6 scene actually). He finds her touch just so different - in comparison to his tough, firm, boney, large hands, her hands are so small, soft, delicate, warm, and thin just like her. When she holds his hand tightly, he’s not just surprised because of the physical contact, but also how reassuring it makes him feel, and how it makes him worried that he might break her hand if he grabbed her too tightly. Tory is an alchemic doll, so she isn’t soft or warm, she’s always cool to the touch. But despite being both humans, unlike him, Lari is just so soft and warm, which makes him instinctively wnt to be extra careful as to not hurt her accidentally.

#rupelali #your majesty please spare me this time #rofan #otome isekai

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real-time-twilight · 2 years

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New Moon in Real Time

January 16th, 2006 (Monday)

A Note on Today's Entry: I have mentioned this before, but there is a glaring error in the text of New Moon regarding this date. Bella states that this day (the 19th) marks one day after the one-year anniversary of her first day at Forks High School. However, we also know from the text that this is a Monday. As Bella came to Forks in 2005, according to the official guide, and based on the fact that all the calendar dates in Twilight match up to the 2005 calendar, New Moon takes place in 2006. January 19th, 2006, was in fact, not a Monday, but a Thursday. I therefore had little choice but to flatly ignore the text on this particular, regardless of the anniversary being a focal point of the chapter. It is, however, interesting to note, that January 19th, 2004, was a Monday. Given that Twilight was originally written in 2003, it seems possible that Meyer wrote New Moon to be set in 2004, with the 2006 date being a later retcon.

On this Day

Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous 🌖

🌄 Sunrise: 7:59 AM

🌅 Sunset: 4:55 PM

New Moon, Ch. 6 ("Friends") from pg. 151, line 26--Ch. 7 ("Repetition") to pg. 165, line 12

7:30 AM (Approx.) - Bella wakes from a new version of her usual nightmare involving Sam Uley

8:15 AM (Approx.) - Charlie monitors Bella during breakfast

9:00-9:50 AM - Bella realizes how absent she's been at school

10:00 AM - Bella tries to talk to Jessica in Calculus; Jess is cold to her, still upset with Bella's disconcerting behavior in Port Angeles.

12:10-12:50 PM (Approx.) - Bella is late to lunch, breaks her months-long silence to defend Angela's story of her and a Ben's cryptid sighting near the Sol Duc trailhead, Mike strikes up conversation with Bella

12:50 PM (Approx.) - Angela thanks Bella for sticking up for her; Bella asks the date and realizes that a year has passed since she first started at Forks High School

3:45 PM (Approx.) - Bella goes to the Cullen House

4:25 PM (Approx.) - Bella arrives at La Push to watch Jake work on the bikes

6:30 PM (Approx.) - Bella returns home and is greeted by Charlie and pizza; Bella reads an email from an enthusiastic Renée

New Moon in Real Time Masterpost

#twilight saga #twilight renaissance #new moon in real time 🥀#real time twilight

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kotos-and-smiles · 3 years

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Chika and Satowa’s “Opposite Worlds”

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR KOT! Especially ch.69, some of ch.105, and a bit of ch.106

So, I was thinking about maybe doing a post not so centered on Chika and Satowa, even though they really are my favorite characters both individually and together, but then the last chapter happened, and if I was never gonna shut up about them before, I’m certainly not gonna shut up about them now.

Once again, in ch.106 it is mentioned that Chika and Satowa are from opposite worlds. This reminded me of one of my all-time favorite pages from the entire story in ch.69 which I’ll delve into more in depth in a bit.

We’ve seen from the beginning that neither of them really let this whole “different world” thing affect the way they treat each other. Sure, Satowa was a little entitled in some ways at first, and Chika used to tease her about being rich before he learned her family situation, but they didn’t really treat each other all that differently because of it. Satowa joined the club and stayed in the club because that’s where she wanted to be. All the talk about how she was from a different world than the others hurt her because she’d always been isolated because of her high skill and “different” stricter world. Of course, as the club has gotten closer and just more familiar with each other, this whole “different worlds” thing and different skill levels thing has become almost a non-issue at this point. Satowa never really wanted to be looked at differently because of her background, and she isn’t really now.

The main point we see this “different worlds” idea show up in the story now is in regards to Chika and his idea of being worthy to stand beside Satowa as he so wants to. Ch.69 is where we see this come out most clearly, as earlier on Chika didn’t really care about the whole “opposite worlds” bullshit. But things are different by ch.69 than they were when Hiro first came in, or when the club first had to deal with Kasuza. When they were first introduced, Hiro and Kasuza both championed the idea that Satowa didn’t belong because she was from a different world. When it came to Hiro, these comments got to Satowa, but then she was able to triumph over them, and Chika was just annoyed by this idea that Satowa was so different because of her skill or upbringing. He’s never underestimated her skill, but he’s also going to believe what she tells him first and his own experiences with her rather than what someone tell him. By the time Kasuza comes to the club, Satowa is more confident in her desire to stay in the club because that’s where she can find the sound she’s looking for. Chika is once again aggravated that people are acting like Satowa shouldn’t be with the club just because of her skill or upbringing because that’s where she wants to be and that’s what should matter. But by ch.69, Chika has gotten closer to Satowa. In ch.59 he promised her that he’ll catch up to her by nationals. Now, he wants to stand beside her and isn’t sure he’ll be able to. Whereas Kasuza is now happy that Chika is the one standing beside Satowa, playing with her, essentially finishing up Kasuza’s arc in that regard as she goes from hating that Satowa is playing with the club to being glad she’s playing with the club.

The point of Kasuza’s presence in this arc is so that she can basically come full circle and think of Chika as worthy of playing with Satowa. In some way, he is being accepted and being deemed worthy even if he doesn’t know it. He may be struggling with it, which shows the progression of his relationship with Satowa and how he’s come to care about and respect her even more now, enough that he’s worried about how he might be affecting her, but for Kasuza she started out believing that Chika and the rest of the club shouldn’t be anywhere near Satowa, and in ch.69, she’s accepting and even glad that they’re the ones standing beside Satowa. Kasuza realizes that the club makes Satowa stronger. She recognizes that the club has given Satowa what she really needed to make her sound grow even better which was an environment in which there was no hierarchy and everyone can work hard together. Kasuza, in the end, is even happy that Satowa has the club to play with and Chika by her side.

Now for one of my favorite pages in the chapter, and probably the manga (I really love and also cannot handle comparisons between younger Chika and Satowa)

In short, I love this page because it shows just how similar Chika’s and Satowa’s stories are even if they were in quite different life situations. They may be from “different worlds” but they’ve had very similar experiences in some significant ways.

This page comes when Chika and the club are at Satowa’s performance to celebrate her reinstatement as the Houtsuki heir. This is a fancy koto event, which depicts the type of world that Satowa comes from. And, very importantly, it’s an event that Chika feels very out of place attending. He doesn’t know the norms around this group of people, he doesn’t understand this world, and Kasuza has to stop him from doing something bad that he didn’t even know would cause that much of a problem. He’s only wearing a suit and only brought a gift because it’s what Isaki told him to do. But he’s there for Satowa to hear her play. He’s there to celebrate her. She walks in, and looks amazing, but different to how she usually looks, like it’s not the same person Chika has gotten comfortable spending time with everyday at club. Then she starts playing and it’s the first song he ever heard her play, and she plays so well, and at this event where he feels very uncomfortable, Satowa begins to seem very far away. “I’ve gotten too close to her. I didn’t realize at all. Just how… far away you were.”

He feels like this is really the world she belongs in, and there’s no place for him in that because he doesn’t belong. But of course, she actually loves the club. It’s where she feels most herself, most comfortable. She loves playing with everyone, and has since very early on, and she knows how big a part they all are in her life. So really, he’s gotten close to the real her.

Then the page shows a series of images from Chika’s and Satowa’s lives, from their childhood through middle school, and it shows just how similar their experiences are even if they lived in different or opposite worlds.

They both lost a parent at a young age. Chika’s mother abandoned him when he was two, and he has no memories of her. Satowa’s father died when she was quite young, though she does have memories of him. From everything that’s mentioned or shown about Satowa’s father, it seems he was a good dad, one that Satowa has good memories of, and there certainly isn’t anything that implies she has any trauma related to him. Except that she did lose him, leaving her with just her mother and putting a strain on their relationship.

Both Chika and Satowa were isolated from their respective social groups, outcasts. It’s mentioned in ch.99.5 that Chika was an outcast in school, people thought badly of him, and Tetsuki points out that people had the wrong idea about him and that he was just awkward and bad with words. Other than Tetsuki, Chika had no friends. Satowa had no friends at all. As she’s stated before, she lived in an adult’s world. Her seriousness toward koto and her ability set her apart from people her age, so she only ever really played or interacted with adults.

Then comes the neglect from each of their parents. Chika’s father was probably never really there for him, but as Chika got older his father started pulling away more and more. This is also the time Satowa’s mother stopped listening to her as much, and Satowa started growing apart from her mother as she couldn’t get through to her. Both Chika and Satowa were each trying to be good for their parents, but as they grew older it backfired, creating distance between themselves and their parents. Satowa turned to koto, trying her best to make her mother proud. Chika began to realize that his father would never love, accept, or support him, much less be proud of him. As the fights with his father ramped up, Chika began to hang with a bad crowd and get into fights as a way of lashing out and expressing his pent up emotions. Satowa tried to express herself through koto but it miserably failed to get through to her mother. So, both Chika and Satowa ended up alone and hurting, until they both found the club. Well, for Chika first he had his granddad and then he found the club after his death, but you get it. For Satowa she really had no one until she joined the club. So really, Chika and Satowa are so much closer than they realize.

Also of note, is the fact that both of them lost someone important to them due to illness, with Satowa it was her father and with Chika it was his grandfather. Two parental figures that were taken too quickly.

So, for each Chika and Satowa, people talked about them behind their backs, each of their parents ignored them, Satowa ran to the koto to express her voice, Chika ran to a bad crowd and fighting to have some sort of voice, and each of those voices reached no one. Finally, in the club, they’ve each found a voice that’s their own with koto. Satowa has always had a voice in koto, but this one is uniquely her own as she’s playing for herself and playing with the club, she’s not playing for her mother or to uphold any status. She’s gotten back to some aspect of how she used to play as a child with both her parents which was to make them happy and share a beautiful sound with people she cares about. Both Chika and Satowa spent so much time alone dealing with their shitty parents and hold a lot of trauma from those relationships, except Satowa has been able to work through and hopefully heal aspects of that relationship with her mother, whereas Chika’s father better stay far, far away.

They each were so excluded from their peers, but now with the club they have found their place, the only place they need, want, or care about keeping. It’s a place where Chika can stand tall and be proud of himself and be completely himself. It’s a place where Satowa isn’t judged for her seriousness in koto and practicing and she’s included and cared for and can be completely herself and do things for herself without feeling bad (something she still struggles with, but that doesn’t make it less true).

In ch.69 though, Chika proceeds to be hard on himself, doubting that he could ever catch up to Satowa, much less by nationals. But then he remembers that she made it into a promise with a smile, that she enjoys having him as a companion and would like him as an equal. That’s when Chika squares up, as he always does, sits up and listens, determined to get closer to her, even though in some ways there’s very little distance.

I absolutely adore this entire chapter, but there’s something about this one page that shows their pasts that just always strikes me.

I think one of the many reasons Chika and Satowa are my favorite ship is because they don’t lose themselves in each other. They’re a huge part of each other’s journey, they mean so much to each other, but they only gain a better sense of themselves rather than lose any part of it to each other. They enhance and embrace each other.

For so long, they were both just trying to find their voices, ones they can express and that people will listen to. Satowa was losing her voice with her mother. Never being listened to caused her to lash out and try in a last ditch effort to use her koto’s sound to be heard. Chika arguably never had a voice when it came to his father. And both Chika and Satowa wanted to please their parents, so for a while they muted themselves until it became obvious their parents would never change. Chika finally turned to fighting to scream out in some way, to express himself even if in violence because that’s the only way he’d found that made an impact. I think this is also one of the reasons the moment in ch.105 when Chika is talking about how he has the koto now and says that he no longer needs fists to speak, he can shout on his own, is so impactful, and I think Satowa can connect to what he’s saying. Koto has always been her voice, her way of shouting or expressing, and knowing that he’s found that too is beautiful. First, Chika found people who would listen to him and through them he found a means to communicate his emotions.

In ch.106, Uzuki tries to use this “opposite worlds” argument against Chika again, implying that Satowa, from her sheltered world, would never defend, much less come to the rescue, for someone like Chika, for someone from Chika’s world. But Satowa is having none of that. She doesn’t even let Chika go there. She knows him, and he knows her, and they want to stand beside each other, so it doesn’t matter what damn “worlds” they’re each from. She’s more than willing to step out of her “world” to bring Chika back to the one they both belong in.

Chika wants to stand beside Satowa, and has promised her that he will come to be able to, a promise she’s reminded him of and is holding him to. Satowa does not want Chika to stand alone, and she won’t let him.

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keelywolfe · 3 years

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FIC: Gentle Sins ch.3 (BAON)

Summary: Edge is heading back into work, but since when do his days ever go smoothly?

Tags: Spicyhoney, kustard, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was entirely too soon for him to be returning to work by Edge’s measure. Two days off after a kidnapping was a paltry concession and he would have preferred at least working from home for the rest of the week. The Embassy wasn’t particularly far from New New Home, but depending on traffic and stoplights, it could take nearly half an hour to drive between them, not including the time it took to get to his car.

Time enough for so many things to go wrong and for Stretch to be alone when it did.

But despite his preference, two mornings after he’d brought Stretch home, Edge was pulling into the Embassy parking lot and ignoring the shouts of the protestors on the other side of the street as he walked in, though he didn’t extend his cane until he was inside the front entrance.

The issue at hand was not with his employment. Stretch was the one all but pushing him out their front door and he’d done so with a massive spew of words coupled with wild gestures, all of which boiled down to him not needing a babysitter while he was at home.

Edge didn’t have the soul to argue with him about it, particularly since he was right. There were already enough new violations of his boundaries, and past experience taught that he would start to chafe under them soon enough. Perhaps it was already beginning; exhausted as he was, he’d still slept restlessly the night before and while Stretch often tossed and turned, this time it was enough to disturb Edge’s own sleep, his subconscious crying out that this was not a familiar level of thrashing.

He’d still been in bed when Edge left though not asleep, muttering something about heading down to his lab to check on his experiments. Edge hoped that he did; if he could get absorbed in his own version of mad science, it would be a good distraction for the day, one that was very much needed. Red was supposed to stop by at some point about the bodyguard assignment and while Edge asked his brother to wait for him to get home, there was no telling if he would. If he deemed Edge’s presence unnecessary, Red would do as he liked and to hell with waiting for his brother.

With that in mind, Edge’s plan was to work as swiftly as he could today without sacrificing accuracy so that he could leave on time, perhaps even early, in an effort to thwart anything Red might attempt for his own amusements. But as so often happened, plans had a way of changing and in very unexpected ways.

When he’d arrived at the Embassy that morning, he’d been hyperaware of the stares that followed behind him from the moment he came through the door. From the security guard at his station to the interns to the janitors, eyes and whispers lingered in his wake. Whatever hopes he’d had for discretion about the kidnapping incident were quickly dismissed; it was obviously the talk of the office though no one was bold enough to confront him about it directly. As Red often said, ‘the only way to keep a secret is if ya kill the guy who told ya’ and considering how many witnesses were at the bar that night when Stretch and Jeff were taken, that option was not exactly feasible, if it ever was.

The local news was plastered with stories, some sticking with the one provided by the Embassy and others filled with wild speculations. Monsters were hardly immune to gossip and Stretch often featured on both sides of the rumor equation.

As for his usual partner in crime, Jeff was taking the week off and Antwan with him, and while Edge could appreciate the urge to get back to some form of normalcy, he couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy to think the two of them were probably curled in bed together sleeping while he was fending off the glares of his co-workers.

He deliberately kept his limping pace normal on his way to his office, refusing to give the gossip any further fuel. That worked well enough until he went inside. Janice was already at her desk and she looked up when he entered, her long ears swiveling in his direction and her pink nose twitching as she gave him a narrow look.

He wondered if she was disappointed in him for coming in today. The thought made him want to look away from her direct gaze and he forced himself not to, saying crisply, “Good morning.”

But perhaps he was only projecting his own troubled thoughts because Janice only replied with a certain gentle concern, “Good morning. How is Stretch doing?”

Yes, the gossip traveled quickly, indeed. Edge hesitated, then said with cautious honesty, “He’s doing better.”

She nodded and didn’t press. Absently, she reached out to straighten the picture frame on her desk of her two children. Edge understood the impulse. “If you need anything, either of you, please do let me know.”

“I will,” Edge said. He meant it. Somehow in the past year their relationship had gone from a strictly working one to something akin to friends, a change that came about right around the time he’d married Stretch. Another way his love had changed his life for the better.

Still, it was a relief for her expression to change in a flash from motherly concern to businesslike briskness. “I’ve already emailed your agenda for the day, nothing particularly robust, but you do have a meeting in an hour with Toriel.”

“Toriel.” Edge blinked in surprise. Technically, Toriel didn’t work for the Embassy in a similar way to Stretch. She acted as Frisk’s guardian, and while she certainly handled things she likely shouldn’t at her own discretion, they were the diplomat, not her. What could she want to discuss that she couldn’t have come to their home?

He set his laptop case down and dug out his phone, opening the email app and scrolled to his daily agenda to scan the list. The schedule said only, ‘Meeting with Toriel, 10am’ and gave no clues. “Did she happen to say what it was about?”

Janice shook her head. “I’m afraid not, she only contacted and asked for an appointment. I couldn’t think of a reason not to, so I gave her the first available timeslot.” Her voice uplifted at the end, turning the statement into a question.

“Of course you should,” Edge said, belatedly, “I’m perfectly willing to talk with her. I’m simply confused as to why.”

Janice offered him a faint smile and raised eyebrows. “I suppose in an hour you’ll find out.”

“I suppose I will,” Edge sighed. He picked up his laptop and headed into his office, already considering whether to brave the gauntlet again for a cup of coffee or to relinquish is pride and ask Janice to retrieve one. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for any surprises and a meeting with the former Queen would likely offer them, in spades.

~~*~~

If there was one thing to appreciate about meeting with Toriel, it was her promptness. At precisely 9:59 am Janice buzzed him that she’d arrived.

Edge took a moment to drain the last of the lukewarm coffee from his cup, brought to him by Janice without any prompting from him, further proof of what an excellent assistant she was. He saved the document he was working on before he replied, “Send her in.”

He’d hardly finished speaking when his door opened, Toriel’s bulk filling the entryway. She had to duck her head to fit through the entrance, barely missing bumping her horns on the trim.

“Please, come in,” Edge said. He ignored his cane where it leaned against the side of his chair and instead walked cautiously as he came around it. He gestured to the sofa rather than the chairs at his desk; Toriel was not a small Monster, but his office was designed for visits with everyone, up to and including Asgore himself.

“Thank you,” Toriel said. Her voice was soft enough that it seemed one should strain to hear it, and yet it still carried clearly through the room. She seated herself where he’d indicated, folding her lightly furred hands into her lap.

Edge hadn’t spent a great deal of time with Toriel outside of Embassy functions and the few times he’d traveled along with the diplomats. Even then, he’d kept a cautious distance from her. Despite the small glasses perched on her muzzle, her soft purple dress and motherly cardigan she wore, as a Boss Monster, there was a certain aura of power that she carried that no casual outfit could stifle. Her status might be simply as Frisk’s guardian, but even Humans couldn’t fail to notice it. Adding in that Edge had no basis of comparison with her counterpart in Underfell, put simply, she made him faintly uncomfortable, despite the common interest in puns she shared with several members of his family.

“Would you like a drink?” He barely caught himself before asking if she’d care for tea, already knowing the answer to that. She and Stretch should be closer friends, they could bond over their mutual dislike of the King. “Water? Fruit juice?”

“Water would be lovely,” Toriel said. The words were merely polite, he sincerely doubted she’d come here for refreshments.

From the small fridge in the corner, he retrieved a bottle of water. He set it on a coaster rather than hand it to her and took the seat across from her, folding his hands into his lap in an unconscious mirror of hers. “What can I do for you?” Edge asked.

Without preamble, Toriel said, “You saved my child’s life, and mine.”

That was far from any topic he’d expected she wanted to discuss. If anything, he’d supposed she might wish for more personal information regarding the kidnapping and rather than trusting the gossips, she’d gone to a reliable source. That she might want to talk about their last meeting hadn’t even occurred to him.

The incident in California was not so long ago and yet, despite his lingering scars, the event itself had mostly left his mind. Yes, it was traumatic and yes, he’d certainly be feeling the aftereffects for some time. But it wasn’t his way to linger over such things; it happened, it was over, and now there was only to move onto introducing new safeguards to keep such a thing from happening again.

He considered Toriel’s statement with care before offering cautiously, “Anything I could do to keep you and your child safe, I was willing to offer.”

“I’m sure you were, and are.” Toriel’s eyes were a shade of red unlike his own eye lights. In a way, they were more like Red’s and his way of seeing things deeper than should be possible. “And I am willing to offer my own gift for that kindness. I’ve noticed your leg is still troubling you.”

Edge struggled against shifting uncomfortably, forcing himself not to look down at the leg in question. He was wearing the brace today as he always did in the office, not because he thought he particularly needed it, but due to his suspicions that Janice would discreetly tattle to Stretch if he didn’t. It was a tradeoff for leaving their strictly business relationship behind. “It’s healing, it simply takes time.”

“Indeed,” Toriel inclined her head in agreement. “I’d like to help you, if you’ll allow it. It wouldn’t begin to pay my debt to you but—”

“Your Highness,” Edge interrupted gently, “you don’t owe me anything. I’m well aware that you saved my life after the explosion.”

“I’m no longer the Queen, Toriel is fine,” Her interruption was less gentle and for one who claimed no title, her tone made him want to straighten his spine and come to attention, a habit he’d thought gone along with Underfell. “And your life wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t saved mine.”

“Toriel,” Edge said deliberately, “if you’re offering to heal me, I have a doctor, they’ve done as much with healing magic as they can.”

“I’m sure they have. Which is why I’m offering. My skills are somewhat more…” she hesitated, settling on, “Robust, than other Monsters.”

As a Boss Monster, that was surely true, and Edge couldn’t help considering it.

She’d used her magic on him before, and while that was an emergency, he could hardly protest her doing it again. And what she was offering was gift unlike any other. The opportunity to be healed, to be able to return to his normal activities was tempting to be sure, but what irritated more was his brother keeping him at arm’s-length during the kidnapping. If he’d been more capable, if his leg wasn’t slowing him down, would Red have forced him to stay home instead of allowing him to provide some real assistance? There was no way to tell now, but if he could keep it from happening in the future…?

But Edge also knew that things that seemed too good to be true often were and that there was little in life that came without some sort of price attached. He’d gotten such a gift from the Angel already, if one believed in such things, in the love given to him by Stretch. Asking for more seemed greedy.

Toriel only waited serenely, perhaps understanding his inner turmoil.

“There’s no chance this could have a negative effect,” Edge said slowly. “I’ve made a great deal of progress already, I won't have it set back."

“None at all,” Toriel assured him. “I wouldn’t offer if there was even a chance.” She shifted in her seat, briefly looking away as if his bookcases had suddenly caught her interest. “I would have offered sooner but you must understand, this sort of healing is very draining. If it got out I could do this, Monsters would be lining up at my door, begging for treatment.” She shook her head, her mouth pulling downward unhappily, and suddenly she seemed older and weary. “I can only do as much as I can.”

“I understand.” He did. It was the same reason they’d chosen to keep Monsters’ ability to heal from the Humans. There were limits to the care anyone could provide. Still, his immediate impulse to agree warred with his cautious reluctance. “Then why now?”

“Why not now?” Toriel countered. She spread her empty hands in something like a plea. “I can’t heal every Monster, but what point is it for me to have these gifts if I can’t use them to help someone who was injured by helping me? I owe you a debt, Edge, and I mean to pay it.”

The steel in her voice resonated and the determined need to repay a debt was certainly something he could understand. Edge straightened and inclined his head formally, “I accept your offer.”

A smile lit Toriel’s face and that melancholy fell away as she clapped her hands together like a child rather than the powerful, centuries-old Monster that she was. “Wonderful! Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

“Now?” Edge said, surprised. He’d expected her to need to make some preparations, perhaps arrange for a secret meeting someplace out of the way and not well watched. If there was such a place when one considered his brother.

But Toriel only nodded. “Oh, yes. It won’t take long.”

She rose from the sofa and crouched down next to him. A bit nonplussed, he helped her unbuckle the splint and remove it, and as always, there was a slight, uncomfortable twinge with its support gone. Worse was the awkward intimacy in the way she settled her hands on his leg, even over his trousers, her fingers shifting into precise positions as she closed her eyes and summoned her magic.

Edge had been healed before, too many times to count. Rarely in Underfell, healing there was usually scoffed at and often considered a weakness as it was a difficult skill for those with LV. But in this universe, Stretch, Blue, even Toriel herself had healed him in the past, little wounds mostly, except for California.

He hadn’t been in a position to pay attention the last time she’d used her magic on him, drifting in and out of consciousness, but here there was nothing to distract him. Her magical signature was a deft one, not the brusque force of his brother or familiar honeyed languidness of Stretch or even Blue, who managed to somehow be both forceful and nearly timid at the same time. The greenness of healing came at a delicate trickle at first, seeking and finding the places in his leg that still ached with cunning skill, sinking in. In tiny increments, that trickle became a flood, and then a torrent, and the sensation was indescribable. Not pain, that was far too simple a word, but the deep power that carried healing into his leg and further, seeking out his very essence. Edge shied away instinctively as it sought out his soul, trying to escape that implacable, almost ethereal touch, but it didn’t invade or violate, only swirled briefly through his ribcage in a sort of greeting before returning to the task at hand, or rather, at leg, before it slowly withdrew into empty nothingness.

Edge opened his sockets, hardly aware of closing them, to see Toriel closing her own eyes as she wobbled on her feet, sinking back to sit on the floor with her legs tucked under her and her skirt demurely covering them.

“Your Highness,” Edge said in concern. He reached for her automatically, hesitating before touching her. Even though his gloves he could still feel the aura of roused magic surrounding her.

She opened her eyes. “Toriel,” she corrected with a slight smile, waving his hands away. She retrieved the bottle of water from the table, opening it and taking a long drink, then sighed out, “I’m fine. How are you?”

In answer, Edge stood, striding across the room and back again. The lingering weakness and frustrating ache of the past weeks were entirely gone. The urge to tests his limits was strong and he wondered giddily what anyone would make of it if they caught him racing up and down the stairwell with his coattails flapping behind him.

As if reading his thoughts and perhaps she was to some extent, they wouldn’t be difficult to guess, Toriel cautioned, “I suggest you wear the brace for a little longer. It might keep the curious from asking questions.”

Edge was about to agree, then amended it, “I won’t lie to Stretch. If he asks.”

To his surprise, Toriel let out of a peal of soft laughter and shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. He’ll know the moment he sees you.”

That he hadn’t expected and Edge could only stare at her, aghast, “What?

Her smile turned incredulous. "You have my magic clinging to you, do you truly think he won't notice? Papyrus of all people?"

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and he wished he'd known before he agreed. Well, it was too late to change anything now, wasn’t it, and that was a meal he’d have to swallow when it came to the table.

Belatedly, he realized Toriel was attempting to climb up from the floor and he hastily leaned down to help. Her weight was easily triple his own but between the two of them, they managed to get her back on her feet.

“Well!” Toriel said with a soft sigh as she dusted off her dress. “I’ll leave you to your duties, then. I need to get back to Frisk, they have a meeting this afternoon with the Prime Minister of Japan, and I wanted to brush up on the agenda.”

“Yes, of course, your—Toriel,” Edge correctly hastily. He couldn’t help flexing his knee again, still giddy with the pain-free movement of the joint. “Thank you, Toriel. This means a great deal to me, past simply healing.” She’d already turned to the door and paused, turning back to him.

There was a certain familiar impishness to her smile as she said, “If you truly wanted to thank me, you could try calling me Tori.”

In answer, Edge only bowed deeply to her and said, sincerely, “I’m afraid the attempt would be too much for me and might undo all the damage you healed. I would hate to be the cause of ruining all your hard work.”

Her soft laughter washed over him in a gentle wave and she shook her head. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we.” Her amused expression shifted to seriousness, “And Edge? Anything I could do to help you, I was willing to offer.”

Edge inclined his head in wry acknowledgement and with a last smile, she went out the door, leaving him alone in his office. Alone with his leg in perfect working condition and itching to be used.

A jog up the stairs might be out of the question, but there was no reason he couldn’t walk down to get another cup of coffee. With the brace on for now, and by next week? Perhaps he could risk going without, at least in the morning, if the stares died down by then. Time would tell.

He sat down to strap the blasted thing back on, its lack of necessity making it all the more annoying.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

Despite the events of the past few days, Edge felt lighter than he had in weeks. He only hoped Stretch’s reaction would be as pleased as his own.

Once the brace was properly on, Edge retrieved his cup from his desk and went down the hallway to the breakroom to fill it, giving Janice’s curious glance a sedate nod and careful to keep his steps slow and measured so as to not rouse any suspicions.

On the leg brace he would concede, an annoying necessity to be sure. But the cane? That, he left behind.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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