#not really something i would do but i am enamored with the concept

[zapsoda]

i hope wrong organ does plushies and i hope one is jimmy

[limerenceheart]

self aware yan! blade and jing yuan

concept - The duo become aware that their universe is a video game.

a/n - i know that this has already been done before but i really wanted to make my own version. also i do take requests! but only for hsr.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Blade simply did not care considering the mara have always been a nightmare so adding a personal stalker to the mix may not be desirable but he sure wasn't going to waste his time and energy over it.

Blade even started to slightly appreciate the user considering the moments when they would give him food for recovery after his rampant.

As for Jing Yuan, the realistion would momentarily catch him off guard before he would spring into action.

The thing is the general always like to be practical so when he saw how the user actually getting rid of the mara struck monsters, he changed his mind and decided to goes along with the charade.

The only one oblivious to everything was the user where the plan was to keep it that way.

It's just the thing is you're bound to catch feelings after spending loads of time with someone, right?

The seeds of love started to sprout in their hearts but soon turned into despair upon realising that a physical barrier would keep them away from their darling.

The general just dived into his work whereas the stellaron hunter would just obliterate shit.

The user thought she was seeing things as she caught a closer look of dark eyebags belonging to Jing Yuan along with never being able to understand why Blade's health was never full when she would log in.

It must be a glitch but it happened way too often where the user stopped logging into the game.

The duo did not react well to this considering no matter what they did, her smile just wouldn't disappear from their minds.

Blade cracked first by using his blade to create a crack across the screen of the phone.

"Blade, are you stupid? Do you want her to never come back?" The general hissed at him but he just dismissed him with a solemn glare.

"At least, I am doing something rather than just moping around."

Blade's comment struck a nerve so hard that when the user picked up her phone while it being charged, she let out a yelp and dropped the device because of the searing heat.

The general was lucky that her phone was old enough where a new battery would been the problem otherwise their beloved would uninstall the app.

Time passed at a slow pace along with the duo retorted to their original coping mechanisms.

The day before Blade decided to create another crack, their darling returned and greeted checked the stellaron hunter first much to the general's dismay.

By cleaning up their act, she returned and no longer suspected things.

The thing is Blade have far less control than Jing Yuan did along with the fear of her disappearing again lingering back in his mind, his next action was influenced by these emotions.

As the user opened his profile for him to appear in the centre of the screen for her, catching a close up glitch of her beauty should been enough but the insanity won.

"If you disappear again, expect to wake up the next day with scratches on the screen spelling out your name."

The user's eyes widen in shock but Blade just found the hint of fear gleaming in her eyes enamored enough that he just shot a smirk at her.

[alygator77]

I came back to apologize for my previous ask about the smut in M&M. Not about the question, but the delivery.

Reading it in retrospect, it sounds terribly abrasive, abrupt, and rude. That was not my intention. I’m actually quite embarrassed that I typed it out the way I did. Very disrespectful, and I am sorry.

I’m also a single mother, AND a business owner, who happens to read a lot. And as a matter of fact, I do write my own fics.

When I came across yours, I was immediately enamored by it, especially because I had never seen anything like it. I LOVE the entire concept. Its creative and extremely relatable. Especially for people like me. I realize I should have led with that.

I felt very strongly that you needed to know I truly wasn’t trying to be an asshole when I asked. The delivery was awful though, and since I wrote it in the middle of the night when I was already tired and my brain was looking for smut (lol but not really funny), I projected that in a bad way.🤦🏼‍♀️ I truly regret it.

In an attempt at an explanation, I saw most of what I said as a joke, i.e. “Good God. If they moved any slower, they'd be going backwards ... Sorry ijs...” I remember actually laughing when I typed that.

It wasn’t meant to be an insult, but more rhetoric or hyperbole. I wasn’t careful with my expression, so I apologize for that, too.

All of that being said, I also just happen to be a straightforward person, but I wasn’t angry at all when I wrote it.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I also admit that with the tags, I had an expectation of more, which is where the mess that came out of me originated, but I was absolutely not expecting it for every chapter.

I don't agree with adding too much, adding it in every chapter, or that the only thing that matters is sex. His character really is objectified a lot, and all of that can dilute a story very quickly or even ruin it.

My question was more geared towards gaining an understanding of why you chose the route you did. Which was a far better way of asking than the way I did, and there’s no excuse for that.

I hope you continue to write great stories, and again, I SINCERELY apologize for my insensitivity.

Firstly, I would like to say I really appreciate you reaching back out to me — I was pleasantly surprised to read this and it makes me SO happy to know that there are people like you on the internet, capable of addressing a misunderstanding in a respectful and thoughtful way. You being willing to send me this says a lot about who you are as a person, so seriously, thank you.

No hard feelings on my end, all is forgiven. I can completely see where you were coming from and I also relate — there have been many times in my life where I’ve said something and it came out different than what I intended. It happens love.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I will happily go ahead and answer this question! There are two answers to it.

The first answer is that I will not omit the smut altogether simply because… I like sex? 🤷‍♀️ Idk, it’s a simple answer really, lol 😅 But I think to put it in perspective, I like sex in a different way most people consume on this platform. I am demisexual — so I have to have that close emotional bond with someone before I find them remotely attractive. When it comes to writing smut (and sometimes even reading it), this really plays a big part to both my inspiration and my comfort level.

Secondly, I’ll address what you said regarding the characters in the story, specifically relating to the comment about how the smut wasn’t mandatory. 

Personally, I do think the smut scene in ch 3 was relevant to the story bc it gave readers an insight into Satoru’s feelings/perspective. While yes, Satoru was drawn to reader in the beginning, he didn’t understand his own feelings, and there were walls he built up around his heart (you get a glimpse of this when he talks to reader about how he never wanted to get married; it was after their courthouse ceremony in ch 2).

Also, most of the interactions between him and reader were subtly intimate in chs 1-2… he really did not start acting more bold until after the smut scene in ch 3 (ie, he tries to kiss her in the supply room and in the kitchen). Basically, his walls did not come down until they shared that first kiss, because it solidified his own feelings for her. He mentions this to reader when they share their second kiss in ch 6.

If you listen to the song on my playlist for mhm called “Cardiac Arrest” by Bad Suns, it really speaks to the image I had of Satoru while writing the scene during/after their kiss in ch 2.

The moving too fast thing plays into readers character. She was cheated on by naoya (also naoya is just a prick lol), so of course trust is not something she is going to give lightly. I did not feel comfortable having the smut continue in ch 6 bc it felt like their relationship would regress — reader wasn’t honest with satoru yet yk? It would’ve felt super hypocritical for her to preach about how important trust is to her, but then not deliver it herself. putting myself in satoru’s position, I would feel pretty hurt if immediately after I fucked someone for the first time, they suddenly decide to tell me a secret they were hiding from me? 🙂‍↕️ Again... idk, that could be just me though, bc as I said, emotional bonds are big when it comes to physical intimacy for me.

Anyways, I hope this gave you some perspective to my own thought process and answered your question love.

As a fellow mom myself, just wanna say, you single moms are literal super heroes 🥺 Sending you love bc it is NOT easy. Thanks for reading my story and apologizing 🫶🏻

-aly💕

[moonfurthetemmie]

I am legally required to inflict more Supernova on everyone

So I’ve played around with them in the Final Girl Finch ending, and implied some stuff about the Delusional ending.

I also said that Fester would be collateral damage and not survive to watch how all this ends, but I’m going to play with Supernova in Red Sky and a liiittle but more in Delusional

So firstly, Delusional

While I didn’t say anything specifically, the fact that Delusion’s got hearts spinning around his head when he sees Slash (exaggeration) isn’t really changing his goals. The only difference is that now he needs to make absolutely sure that Slash is part of the world he’s trying to build. And Byte, probably. He doesn’t know much about her personally but Pluto and Slash care about her a lot so obviously she needs to stay. But he was planning to try to keep her around anyways for Pluto; he just has extra reason to now.

If he tries brainwash any of them though he’s going to have to do all three of them. Because they’re going to be pissed, and they’re too close to try to do one at a time.

Which means…slash. Slash is getting brainwashed.

And unless something catastrophic happens, she won’t even notice.

But this does also mean it’s much more likely that the Horror Squad will “reform” and join Delusion to help him deal with certain people.

On the bright side, she’s gotten over how pissed she is about liking him? So it’s slightly better?? But mainly just for Delusion.

…oh yeah Hunter still died. slash sees him near byte and in .5 seconds he’s bleeding out on the ground. Byte survives at the cost of one (1) Hunter

yknow they might show Gouge their maze. Tiny detail but they’re going to get to hang out with her more, and all four are going to decide they’re going to be besties.

Also Gouge is told the same lie as everyone else about them reforming, but she takes one look at the squad and calls bullshit. Not in front of anyone who might be very alarmed about it, though.

Anyways gouge is part of the squad. She gets to see the maze. She thinks they’re a bunch of morons for how they themed it, but she does very much like the concept. Every once in a while they decide to have a little fun with their targets and throw them in the maze. Gouge is absolutely terrifying because she just. Walks towards you. Summons her brush. Staring you dead in the eyes.

She’s chase you, for sure. But she’s not so enamored with the thrill of the chase as she is your terror. She wants to see the fear in your eyes when she comes for you.

And you even if you don’t know what she’s actually like, something in the way she’s looking at you tells you that you won’t get the mercy of a swift death.

Sorry I didn’t mean to go off on a Gouge rant. Continuing on to Red Sky Supernova

Fester avoids being collateral damage and manages to recruit the Horror Squad to help them “confront” Delusion. They say something about knocking him down a peg and they are all pretty sure they’ve got something worse in mind than what they’re implying, but they don’t know yet that this 15-year-old is ACTUALLY possessed. They think they’ve just got some funky magic or something. They could keep them in line if they tried to go too far.

Slash thinks she can use this to get Delusion to agree to HER way of making things work. But also they all DO want to knock him down a peg, and Fester’s plan is oddly clever for someone their age.

TL;DR: they cannot keep the demon in line. Delusion and Pluto die. Fester takes over the whole universe and begins their plans to expand.

If Slash doesn’t immediately get herself killed by attacking Fester in a fit of fury, it’s just a matter of time. He had no idea any of them cared about Delusion.

There were some thoughts about Delusion and Pluto being stuck there as ghosts at one point. If they are, Pluto absolutely tells Delusion everything and swears they had no idea Fester was actually going to kill him.

Delusion fortunately believes him. They follow Byte and Slash around and try to get their attention. Slash do NOT GET YOURSELF KILLED

If Slash gets herself killed right away shes DEFINITELY sticking around as a ghost and making Fester’s life as miserable as she can.

On the bright side, she can (maybe) talk to Pluto and Delusion.

On the down side, byte’s all alone. And oh she’s furious. Ohh she’s furious.

50/50 chance she manages to banish him back to hell or just also gets herself killed.

Buuut if she does get killed they’ll at least all be able to cause Fester problems together

like there’s no Good answers here but oh boy are there tasty angst answers

Slash dying and having to face Delusion after she and her friends just got him killed. Oh she’s gonna be so fucked up. This isn’t what she wanted. God, this isn’t what she wanted.

I don’t know if Delusion would be more upset at her if she survives or dies. But I think, while he and Slash have had a history of absolutely despising each other, I don’t think he could take the idea of Pluto wanting to hurt him seriously. Other people, yeah, but not him. So. Slash has that immunity. Because Pluto sure as hell wouldn’t agree to killing him, and if Pluto wasn’t coming, the other two wouldn’t either.

He could 100% believe it if Fester told them they could keep Pluto from dying when they kill Delusion. But Pluto still wouldn’t agree to that. He has trouble imagining Slash would, but it’s much more plausible than Pluto.

but…soft ghosts? Delusion trying to tell her he forgives her as she breaks down over getting two of the three people she loves killed. Slash refusing to let either of them get near Fester, even though they’re dead, because if Fester’s a demon who knows what they could do to ghosts?

pluto and delusion taking turn third wheeling because they’re both very very important to her, just in slightly different ways, and sometimes she and Pluto are being too chaotic for Delusion or Delusion is being sappy with her and Pluto pretends to gag.

Gouge is so confused when she sees them. Mainly the fact that Delusion and Slash are genuinely just chilling with each other. Hardly any animosity. Absolutely not what she would’ve expected.

All the ghosts follow the remaining Horror Squad member(s) around tho. Trying to keep most of the demons at bay, though they can’t do much but look and act threatening.

[mamadarama]

OH MY GOD the long response was a very pleasant surprise . i am very happy to give madakei brainrot

they're like. madara bothers keito always because y'know, it's madara, so he just pesters and pesters him to hang out until keito is like "okay, maybe if i do it once he'll stop bothering me" but he just doesn't. and then we have madakei because keito starts enjoying his company aww.

i think that would also evolve into anger or something LOL. keito scolding madara more because he likes him, so it becomes frustrating for him and madara just plays around with that idea. silly

also yeah they ahve definitely hatefucked before . once or twice idk

they're toxic yuri in my head tbh. madakei girlfriends ^-^ they can kiss sometimes as a treat y'know

madakei is a super funny concept i'm glad you liked it 🙏

I LOVE THIS TOO keito eventually warming up to madara is really cute , but im so enamored by the hyper aggressive version that comes with keitos feelings for madara going in the polar opposite direction. madara doesnt really like keito either but not even close to as much as keito hates him . they try to avoid each other but their social circles overlap too much (and theyre in the same class) so they dont intentionally hang out but their paths cross constantly. sometimes theyll be with mutual friends and then their friends have to leave and theyre left alone together so madara is like "im hungry im going to the cafe you can come if you want i guess" and for some reason keito does come along but doesnt really know why (maybe he subconsciously just wants to look at him some more) so theyre both sitting there like "how the hell did i get here what did i do to deserve this" . maybe some bystanders even think theyre on a date. like the universe keeps putting them in succession match type situations and theyre NOT happy about it . the irony and coincidence of it all is pure comedy to me. its like the red string of fate but turned upside down. the worlds horniest romantic comedy. its just, we all know keito has a type. he has a thing for delinquents with muscles that are a little bit scary . madara fits into that type perfectly, but hes also incredibly similar to rei personality wise. hes like if you combined kuro and rei and cranked everything up to 11. and then taking into account keitos relationships with kuro and rei.... suddenly everything he has going on with madara makes perfect sense.

[castlebyersafterdark]

first off, i cant appreciate you enough for openly embracing FOAH. even byler fandom is hella conservative around accepting them as potentially a real life couple, which is odd to me. but i am also happy that their privacy is intact and shipping can be annoying for anyone who likes to keep their private life to themselves.

from S2 onwards i have been deeply into shipping byler and didnt even think of foah back then. but right after S3 promotions it felt as if there is definitely something simmering. so i looked back and did a deep dive into S2 & S1 promo and bam.....it was always there although it was subtle. but S3 was obviously a foah rollercoaster. S4 they were so oddly closed off but overall there is certainly some romantic tension.

idw i always assumed that it would probably be noah to develope a crush on Finn first

BUT BUT BUT when i saw older videos.....oh boy! What came to me as a surprise that Finn had a much much bigger crush on Noah from the start, and it was def. showing. he seemed jealous of milli (perhaps because he wasn't able to decode whether noahxmilli is friendship or otherwise), felt protective of noah, defending why his character is at the core of the show, despising when they were called brothers and ofcourse desire to be around him. and most importantly....he is always very much in control of himself when Noah was not in interview with the group but whenever he was there finn's mood was so different. he seemed more real, nicer version of himself and that was so fucking cute i wanted to die.

sure Noah too checked him out multiple times, staring finn uninterruptedly. flirting back etc. so it was always very much a mutual thing.

i think they keep it downlow. i totally respect that. Your thoughts on this.

Thank you!! I'm really glad to have created a little spot where we can have fun and be rational and not judge one another. Away from the spotlight which I think is appropriate for this topic - but it's not some huge, evil that needs to be maligned and made so taboo. I think blogging as done here is pretty private. You wouldn't want to openly discuss it everywhere over social media where the press and unkind people linger. I think observing people is interesting. Celebrities are interesting. It's romance, it's reading between the lines, it's analyzing what's in front of you, it's seeing two people you like and might admire and think have incredible chemistry and just think that they could or do have something - and hoping you've got it right.

It's really funny, because very early on in my super young days in fandom started with a celeb ship and I haven't really engaged much with this stuff in many years - and ST is now the most emotionally dramatic and immersive fandom experience I've had since and here we go again! Back to my roots.

Interesting that so many have given the impression that something flipped during the season 3 promo. Seems to be a common thread. Also interesting when people say that Finn seems to be the one crushing first - I don't really have an opinion one way or another, though I do agree that certain things in some stuff from the season 3 era and previous do give some vibes. I've observed the somewhat jealous tension with that trio though - it's pretty apparent at times, even beyond any crush. Good insights though, enjoyed your read of the situation!

This kind of stuff I think appeals to many, even beyond a romantic sap like me who's just enamored by the general concept of relationships, because it is investigative and a little like tracking clues to unveil a mystery. As long as we're just observing and interpreting what's right before our eyes and not being intrusive and invading their actual lives - what's so wrong about it? You know who's in the wrong? Paparazzi who hound celebrities and stalker "stans" who follow them to their homes and press that print disparaging shit and people who harass them online. That's wrong. Loving a celebrity and following their lives / career and analyzing interviews and shared content and finding the idea of a relationship compelling isn't wrong when you think about it.

[cosmicjoke]

Hi, I read your post about shipping and you just said everything that I have been wanting to say. Well , I admit to be an eruri shipper, But for my personal interests about these two very well written characters and the special relationship they share. It doesn't have to be romantic and thier lives don't have to revolve around each other. I won't go out my way insinuating Levi was all about Erwin and shit. That is totally disregarding his character.

I read eruri fics on ao3 everyday and I want to say most of them misinterpret both thier characters for sake of their "yaoi" fantasy. I am sick of it. I won't say don't ship who you want. I am an eruri shipper too but doing this is totally childish.

I think Levi was the one person Erwin trusted with his whole life and he was last and only person who ever understood who he was and saw him as a human. In a way Erwin's own va( Ono daisuke) saying Levi was the last holder of Erwin's remaining humanity. And Erwin being a commander who Levi trusted implicitly. Humanity needed Erwin but now that Erwin doesn't have the drive anymore he wouldn't be able to be the same commander, as you said. Levi saved him from living life of a devil, floch wanted and gave him salvation from the dream that was borne of his guilt and childish curiosity which turned him this cold but coldness was needed for his commandership.

Thier relationship is very well written even more so, in my opinion , Canon ship, I like the complexity and intricacies of thier relationship romantic or platonic. But those toxic shipper demoting thier characters to just revolve around each other and forgetting thier true motives is infuriating.

Levi's priority was and is always HUMANITY,FIRST AND FOREMOST.

Erwin was slave to his dream, Levi freed him of it and Erwin was grateful to have someone take this burden of this guilt and dream away and giving him some clarity and epiphany. Erwin knew Levi would never let humanity down, so hence letting him make his final choice.

Erwin provided Levi a way to serve humanity in survey corps, thier relationship is fascinating. But your point is valid and true to it's meaning. THANK YOU.

Hi there, and thank you so much, I really appreciate it.

I don't have any problem whatsoever with shipping Levi and Erwin, and in fact, the vast majority of fanfic I read is eruri, which is why it's so funny to me that I keep getting attacked over being "biased" against the ship, lol. I'm not at all, I'm just able to separate it from actual canon. Something I don't think should be hard to do.

Indeed, Levi and Erwin have one of the bets and most complex relationships IN canon, far more complex and, imo, meaningful than if they were simply a romantic couple, which is also why I don't understand this fanatical need by some shippers to make it into some cliched romance.

For sure, Erwin trusted Levi above everyone else, and in the end, that trust was rewarded, because Levi saw through to Erwin's heart, in a way I think even Erwin himself couldn't see. Levi trusted in Erwin for a reason too. He saw a goodness in Erwin that Erwin was blind to. So when Erwin doubted his own worth as a leader, and was beginning to question if he'd committed some horrific wrong because his personal motivation underpinned his commandership, Levi reaffirmed his belief in him and gave him a chance at redemption. Indeed, Levi gave Erwin his humanity back, when it was on the verge of being lost, and in the end, by choosing as he did to let Erwin die, he allowed Erwin to keep his humanity and to die worthy of his title.

That's way more powerful and meaningful than some silly, formulaic love story where Levi betrays everyone and everything for his love of one man, lol. I don't even know why people are into that concept, or into the concept of Levi being so rapturously enamored with Erwin, that nothing else matters to him but pleasing him or doing his bidding.

Levi chose to follow Erwin because he believed in Erwin as a leader with a far reaching vision, and as someone who could lead humanity to victory over the titans, and was pure in his intentions to fight for humanity. He saw him as admirably devoted to that duty, and believed in him for that devotion.

Anyway, thank you again for reaching out!

[smokeybrandreviews]

Birthday Cake

X-Men ’97 is just over the horizon and I am mad hyped about it. I grew up on that show. It was one of the few cartoons which both my mother and I could watch together. I, being an unapologetic Marvel shill, was all over the Mutants while my mom was actually enamored with the narrative. There were a few cartoons from back that that caught her attention. The Maxx, Gargoyles, and Spawn were also favorites. Don’t ask why I was watching HBO’s Spawn as a twelve year old kid. Or reading his comics. Or even buying them.  Look, man, the Nineties were a different time. We drank out of hoses and watched ultraviolent anime because our parents thought they were “just cartoons.” We were feral, latchkey kids, back in my halcyon days. Good times. Tangent aside, X-Men inform a great deal about how I perceived Marvel Merry Mutants. It was my first exposure to characters like Apocalypse and Nimrod. While I had read The Dark Phoenix saga as a youngster, it was this show which adapted it perfectly. Live action is still chasing that high. Not only that, but it launched Marvel’s very first, and wildly successful, connected universe. Without X-Men, we wouldn’t have gotten that just-as-iconic Spider-Man cartoon, or the lesser known but equally excellent Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, and Fantastic Four shows. The Nineties X-Men cartoon was a watershed moment for Marvel and for Millennials as a whole. For us Marvels shills, it rivaled Batman: The Animated Series in popularity. So color me surprised that X-Men ’97 is being colored as controversial.

Out the box, it’s that tired ass argument that X-Men ’97 too woke. Everything is always too woke. What started out as people being frustrated they turned Rogue’s decadent, devil’s food, bunt cakes, into petite, little, tea biscuits, has spiraled into a weird fervor about who’s gay or something-something forced representation. Half-hearted kidding aside, it’s staggering to me that people are actually mad about this stupid sh*t. Do they even know what the f*ck X-Men is about? The entire concept of a marginalized part of the community, fighting just to be seen as human, is literally the wokest sh*t you can ever write and THAT’S the core of the X-Men mythos! The Uncanny X-Men started out as a very heavy handed allegory for the Civil Rights movement and, while this wasn’t Stan Lee’s initial intent, the characters of Professor X and Magneto became stand ins for the ideologies of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Just, you know, with super powers. The X-Men are the epitome of Woke so to complain about that sh*t seems like you don’t even understand the f*cking point of the narrative. I miss rogue’s big fat ass just as much as the next kid, but you’re f*cking pathetic if you feel some kind of way about Morph being pansexual or non-binary (They literally can change into anything. Like Mystique). There are actual things to be outraged about, like how the creator of this revival is pretty much a scumbag, or how Marvel Studios has been suffering in the writing department for years. That’s where my concern would lie, especially considering how well written the OG show was.

Is this show going to be Woke? Absolutely. That’s the entire goddamn point of the X-Men. It’s the core of who they are. Take that away and what do you have? A bunch of Capes with random f*cking powers who live in the same house. Where’s the hook? Where’s the draw? Where’s the meat? How are they different than the Avengers at that point? The Fantastic Four? The Defenders? It’s that sprinkling of social consciousness which really gets the juices flowing, really revs up those storytelling engines. I mean, tell me how you write something as profound as God Loves, Man Kills, without it being “Woke”? You can’t. That is a gut-punch of a read and it’s pulled right out of today’s headlines, even though it was written forty years ago. The fear-mongering is real, but instead of Nightcrawler, it’s Mexicans. Same goddamn energy, same goddamn racist ass narrative. Even when they are spiraling out into a world of sci-fi, deep space, time travel misadventures, the core of their narrative is how much they are hated. This whole Krakoa saga, some of the best X-Stories told in decades, is coming to a close because of that long held hate and fear. House of M? Role reversal, mutants accepted and humans forced into being second class citizens. Decimation? Wanda kills off the powers to ninety percent of the entire Mutant population. Utopia, Operation: Zero Tolerance, Genosha, the entirety of the Ultimate run: All derivative of that social pressure and general fear toward the different. That’s what makes an X-Men story, and X-Men story. Getting mad about that sh*t after decades of that being a core aspect of their stories, is f*cking dumb. Not as dumb as Marvel excising Rouge’s cheeks, though. Rest in Power, you doubled-up, delicious, pound cakes! You will be missed.

[thesupreme316]

bronco nima x female reader. the reader helps bronco's little brother with homework and that's when he realizes that he wants to marry her. super fluffy 🥺

What It's Like To date Bronco Nima (in my mind): Bronco Nima X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Headcanon

Summary: A glimpse of dating Bronco Nima/Him realizing he's in love with you

Word count: 568

Supreme Speaks: heyyy, Imma be honest, I really had to do my research for this man. But I’m happy I did cause I am now a fan of this delicious, tall, powerful specimen. I just don’t like the brown bandana pants…..anyways, THE FLUFF IS COMING YOUR WAY. Thank you @hooks-martin for requesting. i hope everyone is doing well and remember

Warnings: none really

Taglist (idk who to tag but): @hooks-martin

At first glance, I think Edwin would be that person who has a hard shell but a soft interior

You know with him being very tall and powerful (6’5 making me weak in the knees)

He would not allow many people to see the soft side of him

So basically looks like he can kill you but is a big cinnamon roll

That man would treasure you like you were a fragile doll; always offering piggyback rides, rushing to get something for you

He would never raise his voice at you

“i just don’t understand why-“

“I don’t understand why you are whispering at me”

“I don’t like yelling at you love”

I feel like your relationship with Bronco (Edwin) is very fun and filled with young couple shit

Like you guys create playlists for each other

You often drag the other on spontaneous plans/adventures

Making food for each other (especially if you are from different cultures)

I feel like he would buy duplicates of his clothes just to make sure that you would have a piece of him

He also would be the type to buy you flowers every week without asking or hesitation

“That’s like the second banquet this week!”

“I missed last week and I needed you to know how much I love you”

You definitely love Edwin because of how he puts you on a pedestal and how gentle of a lover he can be

Edwin treats you with the utmost respect and love

Mainly because he never had a relationship work out this well for this long

He loves you because of how caring and sympathetic you are, which balances out his persona/aura

Edwin’s love for you was definitely amped up when he came home to see you helping his brother with his homework

I can tell this man is very family orientated, he loves his family and tries to protect them(especially when his life is very private)

He regrets that he can’t help his little brother that much anymore, especially when he’s traveling with WWE

You on the other hand, since you weren’t a part of WWE, you had free time and you spent it with his family

From helping his mom cook to helping his siblings with their homework and chores

His brother needed the most help since he genuinely didn’t understand, luckily for him, you were an expert in the area he needed help in

So you spent two hours explaining the concepts and helping him with the work

In observing this, Edwin was completely enamored by you as his eyes grew into heart eyes

Then his mind started to wander about your future

Especially with how great you are with kids and how you would be with his kids, how your children would look, etc.

It scared him, as he never felt this way before and doesn’t want to rush you into something you weren’t ready for

But the more he looked at you smiling while helping his brother, the more in love he fell with you, and the more he was sure that you were the woman he wanted to marry

Overall…Edwin he would wait until you’re ready, no matter how long it took

[midasgutz]

i slept for a billion billion years today and i feel like shit. but my 1tb card came in today so i am transferring everything onto that to get the odin 2 back up and running. i should be able to fit more of my collection on there now, but i'm not sure which ones i really want on there. maybe onimusha dawn of dreams since that game is huge i couldnt justify it before especially since it's kinda mid... but i love onimusha a lot.

not sure if i mentioned it but i ran into an error installing a game on my switch earlier so i need to install dbi so i can check for corrupted data and hopefully delete it. i really wanted that game on there but it was the last one i was trying to install so i dont feel any real rush to do it... maybe i'm just too lazy for all this stuff. i'll just mess around with it later i guess. i should have installed it from the start, really. then it would be no big deal. but i guess once the odin sd is all loaded up i'll just power the switch down, install dbi, inject payload and get going.

i played some pokemon mystery dungeon rescue team dx. forgot how disappointed i was in that game honestly. i think they really found a niche for the series as 'little kid mystery dungeon' but i remember being so enamored with the difficulty of explorers of sky as a kid. that's one of the biggest reasons i remember that game soooo so fondly. i think the biggest reason i love that game is because of the partner who had such endearing writing. i totally see them as lowkey being a couple by the end of that game.. i always play explorers of sky as a shinx and a riolu.

the biggest failing of pokemon rescue team dx though in my opinion is the artstyle. i understand what they were going for but yknow what if they made the game into one of those hd 2d games instead... like. i'd prefer normal pixel art but if you need to make an art style shift to appease console players then there's a direction you could go in that actually has a lot of potential.

in rescue team dx everything has this godawful white glow around it, i think because of poorly implemented ambient occlusion? i can't be sure. but i see this effect in a lot of games, even dragons dogma 2 has it if you're looking for it but it's like. ramped up so much i actually think it's intentional in rescue team dx. and i really don't super hate the sort of storybook concept they have and it could be done well but the white glow really harms the appearance for me.

i would love to see a mod for this one day that maybe takes off that white glow, or even one that does that but then adds some cel shading which could change the direction of the art quite a bit to more of a hard pen style than the kind of watercolor and pencil style they appear to be going for.

money seems really free... i'm getting like, showered in these really busted items early on... the mission rewards are too generous... i'm not sure how i will feel about this game when all is said and done i'll just have to play more. but it'll be interesting to compare it to the two shiren games on switch. something to think about as i play them all i guess

[smokeybrand]

Birthday Cake

X-Men ’97 is just over the horizon and I am mad hyped about it. I grew up on that show. It was one of the few cartoons which both my mother and I could watch together. I, being an unapologetic Marvel shill, was all over the Mutants while my mom was actually enamored with the narrative. There were a few cartoons from back that that caught her attention. The Maxx, Gargoyles, and Spawn were also favorites. Don’t ask why I was watching HBO’s Spawn as a twelve year old kid. Or reading his comics. Or even buying them.  Look, man, the Nineties were a different time. We drank out of hoses and watched ultraviolent anime because our parents thought they were “just cartoons.” We were feral, latchkey kids, back in my halcyon days. Good times. Tangent aside, X-Men inform a great deal about how I perceived Marvel Merry Mutants. It was my first exposure to characters like Apocalypse and Nimrod. While I had read The Dark Phoenix saga as a youngster, it was this show which adapted it perfectly. Live action is still chasing that high. Not only that, but it launched Marvel’s very first, and wildly successful, connected universe. Without X-Men, we wouldn’t have gotten that just-as-iconic Spider-Man cartoon, or the lesser known but equally excellent Iron Man, Incredible Hulk, and Fantastic Four shows. The Nineties X-Men cartoon was a watershed moment for Marvel and for Millennials as a whole. For us Marvels shills, it rivaled Batman: The Animated Series in popularity. So color me surprised that X-Men ’97 is being colored as controversial.

Out the box, it’s that tired ass argument that X-Men ’97 too woke. Everything is always too woke. What started out as people being frustrated they turned Rogue’s decadent, devil’s food, bunt cakes, into petite, little, tea biscuits, has spiraled into a weird fervor about who’s gay or something-something forced representation. Half-hearted kidding aside, it’s staggering to me that people are actually mad about this stupid sh*t. Do they even know what the f*ck X-Men is about? The entire concept of a marginalized part of the community, fighting just to be seen as human, is literally the wokest sh*t you can ever write and THAT’S the core of the X-Men mythos! The Uncanny X-Men started out as a very heavy handed allegory for the Civil Rights movement and, while this wasn’t Stan Lee’s initial intent, the characters of Professor X and Magneto became stand ins for the ideologies of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Just, you know, with super powers. The X-Men are the epitome of Woke so to complain about that sh*t seems like you don’t even understand the f*cking point of the narrative. I miss rogue’s big fat ass just as much as the next kid, but you’re f*cking pathetic if you feel some kind of way about Morph being pansexual or non-binary (They literally can change into anything. Like Mystique). There are actual things to be outraged about, like how the creator of this revival is pretty much a scumbag, or how Marvel Studios has been suffering in the writing department for years. That’s where my concern would lie, especially considering how well written the OG show was.

Is this show going to be Woke? Absolutely. That’s the entire goddamn point of the X-Men. It’s the core of who they are. Take that away and what do you have? A bunch of Capes with random f*cking powers who live in the same house. Where’s the hook? Where’s the draw? Where’s the meat? How are they different than the Avengers at that point? The Fantastic Four? The Defenders? It’s that sprinkling of social consciousness which really gets the juices flowing, really revs up those storytelling engines. I mean, tell me how you write something as profound as God Loves, Man Kills, without it being “Woke”? You can’t. That is a gut-punch of a read and it’s pulled right out of today’s headlines, even though it was written forty years ago. The fear-mongering is real, but instead of Nightcrawler, it’s Mexicans. Same goddamn energy, same goddamn racist ass narrative. Even when they are spiraling out into a world of sci-fi, deep space, time travel misadventures, the core of their narrative is how much they are hated. This whole Krakoa saga, some of the best X-Stories told in decades, is coming to a close because of that long held hate and fear. House of M? Role reversal, mutants accepted and humans forced into being second class citizens. Decimation? Wanda kills off the powers to ninety percent of the entire Mutant population. Utopia, Operation: Zero Tolerance, Genosha, the entirety of the Ultimate run: All derivative of that social pressure and general fear toward the different. That’s what makes an X-Men story, and X-Men story. Getting mad about that sh*t after decades of that being a core aspect of their stories, is f*cking dumb. Not as dumb as Marvel excising Rouge’s cheeks, though. Rest in Power, you doubled-up, delicious, pound cakes! You will be missed.

[demigod-shenanigans]

So I’ve been meaning to get around to this literally forever but I’ve had so much going on and tumblr tends to be a bit of a nightmare scrolling very long posts BUT I finally read this and it was delightful :D

Extended thoughts under the cut so not everyone has to listen to me waffle, lol

-I was grinding my teeth that whole job interview scene. Jason was not missing out. At least where I’m from the questions that lady asked would not have to be answered and aside from being shitty are also just unprofessional as hell? You’re not missing out buddy don’t worry

-Loved the ASL bit (Leo absolutely would turn his hearing aids off to ignore someone that’s annoying him I’m cackling)

I’m now stupidly fond of the thought that even if they do eventually have/adopt a child Leo forever jokingly calls the roomba their firstborn

-“I’m cooking again? Man, I’m both the housewife and the breadwinner. What are you?” Sorry Jason but he’s got a point (this bit made me laugh out loud)

-Always obsessed with Jason just. Calling himself Valdez at every opportunity. He’s completely enamored with being able to call himself that and everything it represents (letting go of his own shitty mom! Connecting to Leo and getting to brag about the fact that they’re married at every opportunity! Having a connection to the mom Leo loved so much who Jason never got to meet!) and he’d never shut up about it

-I loved Leo and Jason taking turns comforting each other. Just in general it being balanced. I feel like Leo gets a lot of comfort (which is great! The boy needs hugs) but Jason usually tends to be taken at his facade of needing to keep it together and so rarely gets held in return which makes me sad, so while I’m not glad he had such a hard time (whose idea was it to have him hold a class on that particular topic, yikes), I’m glad he at least got to be held about it. I just adore mutual hurt/comfort stuff to no end

-Leo and Thalia having what seems like a running joke of her casually pulling knives on him is such menace behavior lmao. Love that for them, they would

-“You really are the best Husband ever.” “I can’t be,” Jason said, “You exist.” -> I’ll just be over there melting into a puddle in case anyone needs me 🥺

-Also their little wedding conversation. Leo being overwhelmed and overstimulated and Jason just being there. I’m <333

-Did not like the glitch situation! Am intrigued but may be happier pretending it never happened because I do like this just being the soft good ending that it (mostly) is

-Not the students knowing they can derail the lesson by making Jason waffle about his husband for half of it, I’m dying

-Penny seems fun! I like the thought of Leo having an apprentice. Out of curiosity: is she a Hephaestus/Vulcan kid?

Festus being curled around Leo like a kid is a lovely image I’m obsessed

-The conclusion is so so lovely. No everything is not magically okay because they’re together. Yes they’re happy but things aren’t always good. And they don’t have to be. They’re both doing the most they can. Still doing meaningful things and changing the world in little ways even if they’re not saving it themselves anymore. I have a variety of thoughts about this but mostly it’s just a really lovely sentiment

-Would love more info on Penny! And I do think extended Grace family sounds like a super interesting concept (maybe they’re a mixed bag where Jason decides some of them he’d rather have in his life than others and that’s something he kind of struggles with because he’s used to feeling like he has to do right by everyone including people he doesn’t like?)

Guys… it’s finally here.

After almost three months of working on it, my largest fic ever is finally finished- currently clocking in at around 15k words!!

This is a collection of short stories about “Domestic life with Leo and Jason” and the beautiful things that come out of that- I give this as my gift to the Valgrace community as a reminder that happy endings can happen, just sometimes we have to create them ourselves.

CW: Swearing, brief talk of homophobia, a little bit of angst sprinkled in for good measure.

Word count: 15,580!!

“Violets and Marigolds”

Married Valgrace AU

Jason sat on the warehouse roof, watching the sun rise. His legs dangled off the side. He felt something brush gently against his ankle, and he saw the sole of Leo’s scuffed-up brown Doc Marten work-boot knock a little against his sneaker in the soft swing of Leo’s legs. The pale golden light of dawn glinted on the windows below them. Jason looked up and smiled at Leo.

Sure, insomnia’s a bitch. But Jason didn’t care when the man he loved was sitting next to him and smiling. He knew that he could get through the sleepless nights and he knew that dawn will always come after, no matter what. Whatever happens, the sun will rise. And Leo would be next to him.

They would always have each other.

Jason interlaced his fingers with Leo’s. It was a new day. He didn’t know what it would bring. But he knew he could count on seeing Leo’s face at the end of it, and the start of the next one.

Jason sat down in front of the interviewer.

“Jason Valdez.”

“That’s my name.”

She squinted at the paper and then studied him, “You don’t look like someone whose last name would be something like Valdez.”

Jason stifled a grumble. He hated when people pointed that out. Why couldn’t they keep their nose out of it?

“…Not that it’s any of your business,” Jason said, as calmly and respectfully as he could, “But I took my husband’s last name when I got married.” To emphasise his point, he casually put his hands on the desk in front of him so that his wedding ring was in full view. It was made of a special alloy of both imperial gold and celestial bronze, and carved with intricate designs. Jason loved to show it off.

The interviewer looked at Jason over the top of her thick-framed glasses, “Why?”

“Well…” Jason really didn’t like this woman, but he had to be professional. He decided blunt honesty was the best tactic to shut her up, “I didn’t have the best relationship with my mother. And I’d rather her name wasn’t a part of my identity. My husband, though, I love very much, and I want a piece of him to be with me. Now this job-“

“So, your husband…” The interviewer continued, “Is he any relation to Leo Valdez, the Greek demigod who launched a missile attack on New Rome?”

“You mean the Greek demigod that sacrificed his life to stop Gaea and save the world? Yes, that’s him,” Jason was getting properly annoyed. This was an interview for a job, not a dating profile. She didn’t need to know what went on in his private life.

“But he did launch the attack?”

“He. Was. Possessed.” Jason growled, “By an eidolon. Working for Gaea. He was not in control of his actions. Plus, that was fourteen years ago. Plus, some of Camp Jupiter’s top Praetors themselves saw to it that he was pardoned. His name is cleared, meaning my name is cleared. Now, can we talk about my credentials?”

“I didn’t get the job!” Jason said, dropping his bag by the door and throwing himself onto the couch.

“Oh no!” Leo said, looking up from where he was sitting, cross-legged on the carpet, a collection of sketches and blueprints spread out in front of him.

Jason waved his hand, dismissively, “It’s fine. I didn’t want it anyway. The interviewer gave me a bad vibe.” Jason didn’t mention that Leo’s name had come up in the interview- or that that was the reason why he hadn’t landed the job. It wasn’t Leo’s fault. They knew that living in New Rome might cause some problems, but it was the only decent place to find demigod work, and it wasn’t like Jason was gonna stop being married to Leo.

“How was your day?”

Leo turned back to the mess before him, and started shuffling papers around. “I got a few new commissions in,” He said, “A design for a carseat that massages you. Washing machines with legs. That kinda thing,” He turned back around, “Plus your standard swords, shields, the odd axe. Nothing new there. I’ll head down to the warehouse tomorrow and start working on those.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, amorsito.”

“I’ve had to take on a few extra stuff while you’ve been looking at jobs,” Leo said, “I’m the breadwinner in this household. We gotta pay bills somehow.”

As he talked, he began to fiddle with his hearing aid (He’d needed them ever since the explosion). Jason knew that he only did that when he was really agitated. He switched to ASL.

“Don’t play with that,” Jason signed.

“Sorry,” Leo signed back. He left the device alone and started fidgeting with his wedding ring- twisting it round and round, swapping it between fingers, spinning it on the table. Jason could tell something was wrong.

“What’s up?” He said in English.

“It’s nothing,” Leo replied.

“Querido…” Jason chided, “What is it?”

“It’s nothing… it’s-it’s silly, really. It’s not worth mentioning.”

Jason sat back on the sofa with his arms crossed, a patient expression on his face.

“Okay, fine! It’s just… something you said yesterday kinda… is still on my mind.”

Jason leaned forward, “What did I say, mi estrella?”

“You said… you know how we were talking about you getting a job? And how you wanted to make money to settle down for the future? Like- what did you mean by that, because it seemed like you meant…”

Leo trailed off, not making eye contact with Jason. He bounced his leg up and down so hard that the coffee table next to him was buzzing. He kept on passing his wedding ring between one hand and the other. He reached up to touch his ear again, but then he caught himself and quickly brought his hand down. He kept fidgeting with the ring.

“Do you… do you want kids, Jason?”

Jason was kind of taken aback by the bluntness of the question. He hadn’t meant to broach the whole subject of children to Leo. Not yet. But he’d been lying if he said the answer was anything other than yes, “Well… yeah, eventually. I mean, not right now, obviously, but someday. I’ve always imagined myself as a dad. And with Percy and Annabeth having their baby, and Nico and Will announcing that they’re Trying, it kinda got my head spinning a bit.”

Leo didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on a spot on the wall in front of him. His leg was jiggling violently now.

“Why? Do you… not want kids?” Jason asked, a little scared to hear the answer.

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never really seen myself as a dad. I’ve always thought I’d just have my machines. I guess… you don’t think the Roomba is enough, do you?”

Jason shook his head, “No, cariño… I don’t think a Roomba equates to having a child…”

“Why can’t we just be the cool gay uncles? Someone’s gotta do that now that Nico and Will are becoming parents.”

“We can do that, if you want,” Jason said, “But wouldn’t it be so cool to make our family bigger? I get it if you don’t want to bring a child into this world, but we could always adopt- don’t you want to give some poor kid a chance to have the home that you never got?”

There were ways for two male demigods to have biological kids- divine conception and all that. It took a lot of praying and sacrificing to the Gods, but if you were on their good side they’d allow it. That was the route Nico and Will had chosen. It wouldn’t be hard to get their approval- Hera definitely owed them one.

“But we’re demigods,” Leo said, “Life is dangerous for us. I don’t wanna put an innocent kid in harm’s way by inviting it into our lives.”

“I get that,” Jason said, “I really do. But we’re safe in New Rome. Lots of demigods raise families here.”

“I don’t know, Jason…”

“Okay. That’s fine. You don’t have to know everything right now.”

“But… but what if it turns out we want different things? What if I realise, years from now, that “actually no, I definitely don’t want kids” and you realise that “actually yeah, I really do” and then you divorce me for some girl named Tiffany, who has a really weird laugh like a cross between a hyena and a pig but she’s got this really fertile oven and she gives you triplets and I’m left to die alone, only talking to my machines and slowly going crazy? Huh, Jason? What then?”

Jason thought about that for a moment, “But that’s the thing- I don’t want to have kids with Tiffany. The only person I’d ever want to raise a child with is you, mi cielo. That’s who I want on my team. If you don’t want to, then I don’t want to either.”

“So… you’re not gonna leave me for Tiffany?”

“Listen to me, Leo, mi vida.” Jason grabbed Leo’s hand, and Leo’s leg stopped bouncing so much, “Tiffany’s not real. You made her up. And if she was, she sounds like a real bitch. No one compares to you.”

Leo nodded, “Thanks… I-I needed to hear that.”

“Come on,” Jason said, “I’m hungry. Let’s have dinner.”

“I’m cooking again? Man, I’m both the housewife and the breadwinner. What are you?”

The next few interviews were a bust. Eventually, Jason applied for a job as a Roman History professor at NRU.

He shifted in his seat as the interviewer scanned him up and down.

“Wow, I mean… you’re the Jason Grace!” She exclaimed.

“Jason Valdez, actually. I got married.”

“But still… You’re well known across all of New Rome. You slew the Trojan Sea-monster! You toppled the black throne of Kronos and slew the Titan Krios with your bare hands at fifteen! You played a pivotal role in the Second Giant War and helped to defeat Gaea! And again, fought to take down the Triumvirate. You’re an absolute legend!” She looked down at Jason’s resumé, “I don’t even need this. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

“I’d like to be given a fair chance, just like the rest.”

“Noble as ever,” She said, awestruck. She tapped the paper, “Well, this is still impeccable. Top grades at New Rome University. Praetor of the first legion. Pontifex Maximus. Twenty-four years of service in the Fifth Cohort. You’re fluent in Latin, Spanish, Ancient Greek, and American Sign Language. Glowing references from multiple gods. Yeah. You’re hired.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I mean, standard interview questions, yadda yadda yadda- why do you want the job?”

“Umm… well, I’d love to teach. I love being a role model, and supporting young people. And I love Roman History. My husband always jokes about me becoming a Professor.”

“Well you certainly are a role model,” The interviewer said, “Kids look up to you and the rest of the Seven from the Prophecy. You’re heroes to them. It would honestly be a privilege to have you as part of our faculty, and really help the students feel like they can achieve things.”

“That’s… that’s great to hear.”

The interviewer grinned, and stretched out her hand for Jason to shake, “Term starts in September. Welcome to the team.”

“Gah!”

The yelp woke Jason up. He stirred, and saw Leo sitting up in bed, hugging his arms to his chest, drenched in sweat and shivering.

“Leo…?” Jason grumbled. He sat up, and wrapped his arms around Leo’s shoulders. Leo drew in a shaky breath. “What is it?” He made sure to whisper it close to Leo’s good ear, since Leo had taken off his hearing aid before bed.

“N-Nothing… bad dream… go back to sleep.”

Jason moved his arms so that he was now gripping Leo’s shoulders, gently but firmly.

“Mi alma, you’re shaking.”

“…It’s cold.”

“You’re basically a human radiator, Leo. You don’t get cold,” Leo’s skin was hotter than usual, which was saying something. It felt like a toaster that had just been switched off.

Leo stopped digging his nails into his arms and held his hands out in front of him, as if making sure they were really there.

“Did you have another flashback?” Jason asked.

“I… I…”

“The night you died?”

Leo nodded, his breathing was still choked and choppy.

“It’s okay, Leo. You’re alive. You’re here. You’re safe. And I love you, mi vida, mi preciosa vida.”

“I’m… I’m alive,” Leo repeated. He looked again at his hands, studying the lines on his palms, “I’m alive.”

Jason moved again, this time hugging Leo’s middle, squeezing it tightly. Leo let out a sob.

Leo put a hand over his heart, like he needed to remind himself that it was still beating. He closed his eyes, and let out a long breath. He seemed to compose himself a little.

“It’s okay…” Jason whispered, although he wasn’t sure Leo could hear him without his hearing aid- he was completely deaf in his right ear, and had chronic tinnitus in his left, a small side-effect of blowing up.

Leo’s breathing was still irregular and shaky, but Jason could feel his heart slow, and his temperature cool down.

“Leo?” Jason asked, after a while.

“Hmm?”

“Is it me, or… are the night terrors… getting worse?”

Leo hesitated, then nodded. “It’s happening most nights, now. I can usually sleep through them, but…”

“Is it just that night, or…”

“No, mi sol. It’s other stuff. Trauma is trauma-ing.”

Jason unwrapped his arms from Leo’s waist and shuffled forwards, so they were sitting side-by-side, cross-legged on the bed.

“Talk to me, bello.”

Leo looked at Jason in that sad way Jason had come to know. It broke his heart a little every time he saw the pain in Leo’s eyes.

“It’s… it’s hard, mi estrella. My life did end that day. And while I’m so, so happy that I got it back… it’s hard to process what happened. That’s what I think the dreams are for- my brain trying to process it all. But… it’s hard. Because, for a moment, the blood lay still in my veins. My heart stopped beating. It’s hard to imagine busy old me lying dead, but…”

“You haven’t slowed down since then,” Jason observed, “And you never did before that. Your whole life- both of them- you’ve spent them constantly moving, never staying still. If you didn’t even stop in death, then when will you?”

Leo sighed, and fidgeted with the fabric of the bedsheets.

“I think your body is telling you it’s time to rest, amor mio,” Jason told him, “You’ve worked so hard. You deserve a break.”

Leo’s shoulders began to shake with another round of silent tears. He buried his face in Jason’s neck, and Jason wrapped his arms around his body. He had to admit, seeing Leo like this scared him. He was one of the strongest, bravest people he knew- to see him reduced to shaking tears, clawing at invisible scars, weeping, curled in Jason’s arms…

Some horrors in this cruel world were too much to handle. And Jason wasn’t sure how much help his comfort actually gave. He was helpless to fight those inner demons for Leo.

So much for “Respected Roman Warrior”, Jason thought, So much for all the medals, all those titles, all that honour.

The person he loved was sobbing into his chest, and Jason was powerless to stop it. All he could do was stroke Leo’s hair, and tell him everything would be alright. He should be doing more- fighting monsters, killing something- but some monsters you just can’t fight. All Jason could do was hold him.

“… Jason?” Leo whimpered, after a while.

“Yes, mi luna?”

“Are you… are you gonna leave me one day?”

Jason cupped Leo’s face in his strong, calloused hands, holding his everything out in front of him on the bed. He rolled forwards on his knees to kiss his forehead.

“I made a vow, remember?” He whispered, “I stood up in front of all our friends and family, in front of several gods and goddesses, and I promised to be yours forever. And you did the same. Do you remember that?”

Leo looked down so that his nose dug into the heel of Jason’s outstretched hands. “I remember. I know we did, but-”

“Hey! Hey- look at me-“ Jason tilted Leo’s head up, so his brown eyes sparkled in the low light of the street-lamps outside, “Have I ever broken a promise?”

“No…”

“There, then it’s settled. I vowed to love you ‘til I die, and I vowed to keep loving you beyond that. Come what may. And I am nothing if not a man of my word. And I know you are too.”

“I am,” Leo agreed, “I really do love you, Jason.”

“I love you too, amour mio.”

Leo still shivered from the fright of the nightmare. Jason held him close, until Leo eventually began to snore. Jason stayed awake, watching Leo breathe, watching his face twitch as he dreamt, his eyes moving under his lids. They stayed like that until the sun rose.

Another sleepless night- but they were still together at the end of it.

September came, and with it Jason’s first day at work.

Jason unlocked the door to his office and walked inside. It was a small rectangular room- nothing special. But the plaque on the front of his desk read Prof. J. Valdez, embossed in imperial gold lettering. Jason smiled at it.

He walked over to his computer monitor and sat down. He took out his briefcase, and began setting items down on the desk. It took him a while to arrange everything in a way that he wanted, but once he was done he stood back and admired his handiwork.

The framed photo of him and Leo on their wedding day, Leo blushing bright red when Jason had kissed him. The little trinkets Leo had made him over the years. A miniature Festus (deactivated). A Rubik’s cube that shuffled and solved itself periodically. Metal flowers in metal flower pots that actually bloomed whenever Jason walked into the room, and closed up when he left. More pictures of them and their friends. Jason and Leo with Piper hanging out at Camp Half-Blood. Double-dates with Nico and Will in New Rome. All of them with Percy and Annabeth’s new baby taken just after they’d brought her home from the hospital. Jason loved all these things. He loved that he could keep them on his desk, to remind everyone that came into his office that he was in love with Leo Valdez.

Just for good measure, he hung a few more photographs of Leo on the walls, and more little handmade creations on his shelves. He couldn’t help it- Leo always made him around seventy thousand little gadgets every Christmas, birthdays, and random Tuesdays. Their apartment was already filled to bursting with these affectionate little gifts. Did Jason really need fifty new forks? Not necessarily, but they were beautifully crafted and he loved them. His pockets were filled with Leo’s little gizmos, all lovingly made and thoughtfully designed. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He got to his lecture hall early, and began setting up, plugging in his laptop and pulling up the powerpoint. He’d created a little “get to know me” slide that new teachers often made- complete with yet more pictures of Leo.

He sat down at his desk and sighed.

Jason studied the tattoo on his arm. SPQR stamped on the skin and twenty-four lines all beneath an eagle symbol. That was nothing new. But fresher ink glistened. Next to the eagle, in iridescent gold was a hammer. Surrounding the symbols, also in gold, were three thinly-drawn concentric circles. Other couples chose different designs, but Jason had wanted this one. The hammer, the symbol of Vulcan, showed his union with Leo, and the merging of their families. If they ever had kids, they would also have those symbols, as they would be a legacy of both Hephaestus and Jupiter. The rings around the symbols represented years of marriage. Leo had a similar tattoo- his hammer in the standard black and his eagle in gold encircled in a thick black ring before the thinner gold ones to show that he married into the legion. The tattoo, of course, had been Leo’s idea.

Students began to drip in.

“Is this Roman History with Professor Valdez?” A student asked.

Jason must have grinned a little too hard, because the kid looked a little freaked out.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

He couldn’t help it. It was one of his favourite things ever, to hear his new name. Sometimes, when he was alone, he’d just say it to himself, over and over “Jason Valdez, Jason Valdez, Jason Valdez, Jason Valdez.” Even after he’d been married to Leo for three years, he never got tired of it. And oh! To hear others say it too made him elated beyond description. That’s one of the reasons why he loved the idea of becoming a teacher. He’d get to be referred to as “Professor Valdez” every day. He’d never get used to it in the best way possible.

Once everyone had settled into their seats, he stood up.

“Hello, everybody! My name is Professor Valdez, and I will be your Roman History teacher for most of your time here.”

“LEONIDAS JAVIER VALDEZ!”

“Uh oh,” Leo muttered. “What is it, amorsito??” He called in a sing-song voice from the other room.

“DON’T YOU AMORSITO ME!! COME HERE!”

Jason knew Leo would be reluctant to move, “Are you sure, mi luna? Can’t you come out here and tell me?”

“COME. HERE.”

Jason heard groaning, and Leo appeared in the door.

“Jason Sebastian Valdez,” Leo said, leaning against the doorframe, trying to act as causal and innocent as possible, “What’s up, amor mio?”

“What the fuck is this???” Jason roared.

He gestured to the room. Every inch of every surface- the bed, the floor, the side tables, the windowsill, the top of the wardrobe- was covered with bits of machinery. Copper wiring, bronze plates, circuit boards, pipes, pistons, batteries, scrap metal, plywood, spanners, screwdrivers, discs, spheres, et cetera, et cetera, et-fucking-cetera.

“What's all this junk doing here?” Jason demanded.

“First of all, chiqui, not junk. Second, a certain, ummm… father-in-law of mine took out the power of my workshop in one of his tantrums. Didn't I tell you?"

"No. Why would he do that?"

"Well, a certain father-in-law of yours pissed him off."

Jason sighed and up at the ceiling, “What did he do this time?”

Leo shrugged. “I dunno. God stuff. And tu padre is taking it out on me!”

Jason tapped his foot in annoyance and surveyed the room, “Did you have to do this in the bedroom?”

Leo shrugged again.

“Leo, mi amor, you gotta tidy this- hey, are you listening?”

Leo had turned away.

“Did you just turn off your hearing aid? Are you kidding me?”

No response. Jason tapped Leo on the shoulder and switched to ASL.

“This needs to be tidied up.”

Leo closed his eyes. Jason stamped his feet in frustration. Leo grinned, his eyes still closed.

Jason grabbed Leo’s shirt and pulled him into a quick kiss. Then he put a hand on Leo’s shoulder, and furiously tapped out a message in morse code.

“TIDY. NOW.”

“Umm… No hablo ingles.” Leo said.

Jason tapped out the same message, this time in Spanish.

Leo groaned again, “Fiiiinee,” He grumbled, “You got me. I’ll do it.” He opened his eyes and switched his hearing aid back on.

“What are you building, anyway?”

Leo sighed, “Typical children of Dionysus, god of theatre, to want a door that only opens if you scream “Veronica! open the, open the door please!” with the rage of a thousand daddy issues.”

“…and you can make that?”

“Well, I’m worried they’ll kill me with drain cleaner if I don’t.”

Leo started to shift piles of materials. Jason started to head to the door, then paused and said, “I’m sorry I called your stuff junk. You’re right. It’s not junk.”

“S’okay, bello. I forgive you.”

Jason kissed him on the cheek, then left the room.

Jason booted up the powerpoint and froze. He had forgotten what was on that lesson plan. The name on the title slide hit him like a brick, almost knocking the air from his lungs.

He could do this. It was fine, he could do this.

He stood up in front of the lecture hall and cleared his throat.

“G-Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. A powerful Roman Emperor, known more commonly as C-“ His voice cracked, “… as Cal-“ Jason gripped the edge of the desk, and tried to blink away the sting in his eyes. Flashbacks shot through his mind, but he pushed them away. He swallowed, “Caligula,” He choked out.

Jason could still feel the impression his gladius left in his palm as he gripped it. He could still remember Caligula’s snarl as Jason approached.

“You’re one of those Camp Jupiter brats, aren’t you?”

“I’m Jason Grace,” he said, “Former praetor of the Twelfth Legion. Son of Jupiter. Child of Rome. But I belong to both camps.”

“Good enough,” Caligula growled, advancing slowly towards him, “I’ll hold you responsible for Camp Jupiter’s treason tonight.”

Jason tried to pull himself back to the present.

“He reigned f-from 37AD to 41…” He gripped the desk harder, his knuckles turning white, and forced down the bile that was rising in his throat.

A blur of memories, flashes of swords and fighting.

He remembered parrying Caligula’s spear with his gladius, every move costing him more and more energy. His muscles were weakening. He’d expended so much energy controlling the winds and the lightning.- he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the fight.

“Get out of here!” he called to his friends. “Go!”

“Umm… Professor Valdez?” A voice called, “Are you alright? You look-“

Jason’s ears were ringing. His vision was spinning. He blinked, and tried to bring the world into focus. His eyes fixed on something in the haze. A face, on a photograph. It was Leo’s face, in the home-screen of Jason’s laptop. A picture of them on a picnic date last fall. Jason took a deep breath and straightened up.

“Yeah… I’m- I’m fine,” he managed. He turned back to the projector screen, “Ca-Caligula’s empire stretched across-“ suddenly, he stumbled, and steadied himself on the desk. His head swam.

Pain shot up his left thigh. He glanced down, and saw an arrow sprouted from it. Jason grunted and stumbled. Piper yelled in warning as Caligula charged again. He just managed to roll aside. He remembered grabbing at the air, summoning Tempest with what strength he could spare. He rode against Caligula atop the ventus’ back, jousting sword versus spear. Another arrow took him in the upper arm.

He could feel the distinct acidic taste of vomit in his throat. “Ex- excuse me, class,” He blurted out, and rushed out of the hall.

“I told you this isn’t a game!” yelled Caligula. “You don’t walk away from me alive!”

Below, an explosion rocked the ship. The room was cloven further apart. Jason was bleeding from arrows in each limb now, yet raised his sword in defiance all the same. They circled one another on their horses in the cramped space, trading blows. Incitatus kicked at Tempest with his golden-shod front hooves. The ventus responded with bursts of electricity that scorched the stallion’s white flanks. The air was charged with electricity. He jabbed furiously at the Emperor, slashing like a Greek while Caligula stabbed like a Roman.

Through the fighting, he glimpsed Apollo across the room, standing dumbstruck next to Piper.

He managed to make it to the staff toilets and proceeded to dry-heave over the bowl. His pulse throbbed in his veins. His vision was a blur.

Jason had decided. Piper McLean would not die tonight. Apollo, Meg, all the others… they must live too. Keep fighting for what was right.

And then he thought about Leo.

As Caligula and he jousted around the ruins, knowing he was close to death, he thought about his best friend.

He thought about Leo putting his life before Jason’s to complete the prophecy- dying before Jason could stop him. He thought about the Oracle telling him his fate, and his one consolation being that he might re-unite with Leo in Elysium.

But Leo was alive. And Jason wouldn’t see him again.

He thought about that pointed face, those busy eyes, that sparkling smile. He thought about Leo, covered in scratches and scorch-marks. Tiny Leo, with his impish grin and his tooth gap and his excited bouncing. He thought about the Leo he had seen defeating a Primordial Goddess, that determination, the acceptance. He thought about the many hardships Leo had escaped, how he could face anything and pull through. As Jason fought, he thought about that brilliant, annoying, funny, tragic, genius, terrified, beautiful man- the many sides of him forming something wonderful. Something… human.

After growing up nothing but a soldier, meeting Leo had taught him for the first time how to be a person. Be human.

He met Apollo’s eyes across the ruined throne room.

“GO!” He yelled, “Remember!”

Remember what it’s like to be human.

These feelings replayed in Jason’s mind as he was brought back to that night. Everything he thought of in his final moments, before pain shot up from the middle of his chest, and everything went black.

He stayed there, hunched over the basin of the hollow throne, retching and blinking back tears. The memories began to dissipate, and Jason could think clearly again. Eventually, after much gagging, nothing came out. He flushed anyway, and sat back against the wall of the bathroom stall, breathing hard and shaking. With trembling fingers, he fished out his phone and dialled a number. It was demigod-safe… mostly. Leo had found a way to scramble the signal using modern VPN technology, but the longer you used it the more dangerous it got. It was for emergencies only.

The phone rang twice before Leo picked up.

“You’ve reached the line for the Greatest Husband in the Cosmos, how may I help you?”

“H-… H-help…” Jason repeated.

Leo’s tone instantly changed. “Jason? Jason, baby, what’s wrong? Mi vida, talk to me.”

“I… I need…”

Jason heard panicked clattering over the phone.

“Where are you? Stay there, I’ll find you. Are you at work? Are you safe? Jason, come on, say something.”

“I c-c-…. Ca-… I’m…” Jason swallowed, and listened to the sound of Leo on the other end of the phone, cursing in Spanish under his breath, the unmistakable sound of a frustrated ADHD demigod searching for his keys in a cluttered machine shop. It was a very familiar sound to Jason. He knew it well, and that calmed him. He took a deep breath, “I’m- I’m safe. I’m at New Rome University, I’ll meet you out front, l-lemme just…”

“I’ll be there in ten minuites, okay?” Leo said, “Don’t panic, I’m here. I’ve gotta hang up now, but I’m coming, don’t worry. Just… just hang in there, ‘til I can get to you. I’ll be there as quick as I can, you hear?”

“Y-yes. Okay.”

“Love you. See you in ten.”

“Love you.”

Jason watched Leo’s name blink off the screen. He took a few deep breaths, then unlocked the bathroom stall door.

He didn’t remember waking up on that California beach. He didn’t really remember much of the quest that followed.

The first thing that was clear in his mind was Leo’s face at that Santa Monica airport, grinning as he hopped off Festus’ back. He remembered rushing towards him, burying his face in that warm smell of motor oil and woodsmoke. He remembered laughing. He remembered smiling. Nothing else mattered in that moment. They were together at last.

But flashbacks and nightmares of that fight still haunted him.

On his way out to the front entrance, Jason stopped by the reception area and arranged to have a sub cover his class for the rest of the day. Then he walked out, taking in the fresh air.

He watched as Leo’s massive modified vintage Ford pick-up truck pulled into the drop-off zone. The passenger-side door opened to show Leo at the wheel, his face knotted with concern. Jason hopped inside and shut the door, sighing with relief as the air con blasted his face from the dashboard.

Leo seemed to read the situation instantly. He didn’t ask Jason what had happened. He didn’t smother him with soothing words. He just slapped the steering wheel of the truck (which was twice the size of his torso) and said, “Right. Ice cream?”

They ate their ice cream in the back of Leo's pick-up, parked on temple hill, looking out over the city. Leo had a scoop of lemon sorbet in a pot (he couldn’t have ice cream in a cone- it would melt in his hands and drip down the side before he could finish it. He needed a pot to catch the drips). Jason had a strawberry double-cone with white chocolate sprinkles and a flake.

"So..." Leo began.

"Nope," Jason said, "Don't wanna talk about it. Tell me about your machines."

Leo suddenly brightened, "I got this commission in from a mysterious outsider. Those are always the best."

“Oh?” Jason said, turning his head to lick a drip off his ice cream cone.

“It was an order for delivery. The guy was weird. He was a demigod, but he didn’t seem Greek or Roman.”

Jason was dimly aware that children of gods from other pantheons existed, but he didn’t cross paths with them very often.

“Anyway, it’s posing some interesting challenges, working with different metals, using different styles of metalwork. I’m learning a lot.”

“Sounds fun. Tell me more.”

Leo went on about the new techniques he’d discovered, and how it’s been improving his skill. Jason listened. He loved hearing Leo info-dump about his interests. If anything, it took his mind off old emperor booties. He loved the way Leo’s voice changed, his words slurring with eagerness as they spilled out of his mouth, his hands moving animatedly as he talked, flapping when he got excited. He loved how his curly hair bounced as Leo rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet enthusiastically.

Jason bit off the last of the ice cream at the top, leaving only plain waffle-cone left. He wanted to eat it, but gave it to Leo instead to have with his sorbet. They both knew that the cone was the best bit of the ice cream.

They kept talking until the sun went down and the sky became bright with stars. Jason rested his head on Leo’s shoulder and yawned.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s drive you home,” Leo said, nudging him affectionately.

Jason nodded, drowsily.

The car ride home was in comfortable silence. Leo kept his eyes on the road, but snuck glances at Jason sitting sleepily in the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” Jason said, “For turning a shitty day into a wonderful one.”

Jason explained everything that had happened in the lesson, running out and almost throwing up in the bathroom.

Leo listened in patient silence, his gaze locked on the sprawling city streets in front of them

"I'm sorry, Leo..." Jason said, "I'm moaning about almost dying when you actually did die, it's not-"

"Hey. Whoa. No. This isn't a competition. I don't wanna make you feel like you can't talk to me because my pain and sadness is more painful and sad than yours. You're hurting, I help. That's the deal. That's what I vowed to do. And you do the same for me. No matter what that hurt is, we support each other, capiche?"

Jason nodded, "Capiche. You're right. I'm sorry."

“What are you sorry for, mi estrella?” Leo asked, calmly.

“I… I don’t know…” Jason admitted.

“Exactly,” Leo said. And the matter was settled.

They slipped back into sleepy, non-verbal company until they made it back to their apartment.

Leo kept a little stool next to the forges, which was known only as “Jason’s chair”. Jason often sat, watching Leo stoke the flames. He loved to sit there and see him turning over coals with his bare hands, or working away at his desk next to it. Sometimes Jason got out his laptop and wrote lesson plans while Leo worked. Sometimes Jason helped- if just to be a human spark plug. Sometimes he just sat and observed. They would talk, or sing songs, or just work in silence.

“What’re you working on?” Jason asked from his chair.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve just finished the commission by those Dionysus kids. Hope they like it.”

He picked up his drink and sniffed it, obviously checking for drain cleaner. “I’m now working on a self-playing harp to add ambiance to the temple of Apollo,” He glanced at Jason and smiled, “The one that you re-designed on temple hill.”

He turned back to his blueprint, muttering to himself. Jason watched as he drew long lines across the page with his craftsman’s ruler. Leo touched a button on his hearing aid, and turned up a dial on a small radio in front of him on his desk. He’d rigged up his hearing aid to connect to it via bluetooth, so that he could listen to music as he worked.

The doorbell rang, and Leo opened it. He was greeted with a knife to the throat. He grinned.

Jason sat perfectly still on his stool, watching as Leo poured over his notebooks, nodding his head slightly along with the music in his ears. In their silence, he could just about hear the tinny voice of the music coming from the device. It sounded like Taylor Swift. It probably was.

“How’s my favourite sister-in-law?”

“Your reflexes could be sharper,” Thalia said in response, then she lowered her knife and pulled him into a tight hug. When they broke apart, and she saw Jason standing there, she grabbed him and squeezed him so fiercely Jason thought she might crack a rib.

“Food is on the stove,” Leo announced, “Should be ready in about half an hour. If Piper hasn’t already helped herself to it all.”

“When did McLean get here?” Thalia asked.

“She stayed overnight to sleep off the jet-lag,” Jason explained, then he clapped his hands together, “But now we’re all here, should we do presents?”

Leo shook his head, “Nah, man. Food first. Keep ‘em waiting. That’s how my mom did it. I’ll go see to the kitchen, you guys talk or something. It’ll only be another twenty minutes or so, anyway.”

After a very hearty Christmas dinner cooked by the notoriously skilled Chef Leo, they got to work passing round presents.

Leo had organised them into four little piles, and they took turns opening one present each.

Except there was one slight problem-

Jason had about five million more presents than everyone else. All a variety of sizes and shapes, all wrapped in the same bronze (recyclable) wrapping paper.

Leo didn’t seem to think this was an issue (“I may have made you a few more presents than what we agreed was the limit! So what?”), but Thalia and Piper were exchanging glances, worried they’d have to sit there and watch while Jason unwrapped each one individually and was subjected to a long explanation by Leo as to every device’s multiple functions. To make things go a little faster, they agreed to let Jason unwrap five presents per round instead of the usual one.

Was Jason complaining about how thoughtful his husband was? Fuck no. He loved it. He was gonna put a lot of these in his office when he got back to school.

Leo was first in the circle. Thalia got him a collection of various hides from monsters she had slain. Most of them were still fresh. Leo immediately grabbed a notebook and wrote down some ideas for contraptions he could use them in.

Jason was next. Leo had made him: A picture frame that unlocked and opened up into a shaving mirror, one of those ballerina jewellery boxes with a dancing Festus (Jason didn’t wear jewellery), a large polaroid camera that videoed and printed out Leo’s scroll holograms (“scrollograms!”), a key ring embossed with the words “te amo”, and an airbed pump.

“I thought we could try camping!”

“Leo, do we own a tent?”

Leo glanced nervously at a box-shaped present at the bottom of Jason’s pile.

Piper was next. Jason got her tickets to see Chappell Roan for the three of them. She actually teared up and flung herself into his arms. Leo bounced up and down and flapped his hands, squealing excitedly.

Leo had gotten Thalia the same thing he did every year- a bottle of Texas Hot Sauce.

They went round the circle a few more times, until they had a large pile of gifts next to them.

Alongside his animal pelts, Leo received 50 drachmas towards his Eras Tour Fund, a collection of more notebooks, and The Tortured Poets Department on CD from Jason (“So you don’t have to keep streaming it while you work and attract monsters to the workshop.”). He got another 75 to the Eras Tour Fund from Piper, and various tools from his wishlist. She also got him what looked like a dog coat, but it was fifty times the size.

“It’s for Festus!” She explained, “In case he gets cold in the winter!”

Piper received a customised surfboard from Leo, complete with badass (totally safe) modifications. She also got a large set of different-sized hunting knives from Thalia.

Jason got several thousand more gifts from Leo, which took up most of the sofa and the coffee table. Piper got him one of those fluffy oversized “oodies” that were all the rage online. It was blue, with a large superman logo on the front. Jason argued that he didn’t need to be any warmer than he already was, sleeping next to Leo. Somehow he still found himself buried in it anyway, the hood pulled down over his eyes, just enough so he could see. Thalia got him a framed photo of the two of them when Jason was just a baby.

“Where… where did you find this?” He asked, looking at the photograph, stunned.

“I have my ways,” She remarked, nonchalantly.

Piper had got Thalia a new leather jacket.

“Another one?” Jason asked, “You’ve got loads!”

Thalia shrugged, “All my old ones got blood on them.”

Lastly, Jason handed his gift to Thalia. She opened up the small rectangular box, and pulled out a hunting dagger. She unsheathed it, and examined it. It was hammered a little out of shape, and the blade was warped.

“I’m assuming this wasn’t made by the OG Valdez?” She asked, glancing at her brother.

Jason looked a little sheepish. Leo rubbed his back, reassuringly. “Your metalwork’s getting better, chiqui. It’s good! You can’t help the fact that you’re married to one of the best and most advanced weaponsmiths in the Greco-Roman pantheon. But it’s good work.”

Thalia gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek. “I love it. Thank you.”

Jason gave her a tight, one-armed hug.

“I actually have something else for you,” Thalia said to him.

“Oh?”

“It’s not a gift, exactly just… news.”

“Good news?” Leo asked.

Thalia neither confirmed nor denied this, just said: “I got a call from someone a couple weeks ago. Our cousins. On our mom’s side. I met them a couple of times as a kid but mom blipped off the radar once she was expecting you. They’d found out I was still out there recently and wanted to get back in touch. They didn’t know about you. I didn’t tell them. I said I’ll think about it, but honestly? I want nothing to do with them. I don’t want to be associated with anything to do with Mom, after what she did to you. And anyway, it’ll be a bitch to explain to them why I still look sixteen. But I thought it was only right you should know, in case you were interested in getting to know them.”

Jason was a little speechless. He’d never really considered the fact that he might have extended family out there. Other Graces. He wasn’t sure what to do. That didn’t bother him though. When he wasn’t sure about something, he’d talk it through with Leo. They’d figure it out together.

Family games began. After a rather violent round of charades, cut short by the fire alarm being set off by someone who will remain nameless, they decided on karaoke.

“KNEE-DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOU’RE EATING ME OUT-“ Leo and Piper screamed in unison, using the deodorant bottle and the TV remote as fake microphones. They’d moved the coffee table out the way and the two of them were now singing their hearts out in the middle of the living room while Jason and Thalia watched from the couch.

Jason glanced nervously at a vase that was getting dangerously close to Leo’s flailing arms. Maybe Karaoke hadn’t been the best idea.

Piper was yelling furiously into her deodorant bottle, eyes closed, giving her best theatre-kid belt.

Leo was on his knees, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“FUCKED YOU IN THE BATHROOM WHEN WE WENT TO DINNER, YOUR PARENTS AT THE TABLE, YOU WONDER WHY I’M BITTERRRRR- hey! Hey, Jason! Do you think me and Piper should start a band? No, but really? I’ve already picked out our name, we’d be called “Piping Hot!” I think we should do it. Piper? Should we do it?”

“I married that man,” Jason reminded Thalia.

“Y’know, we did ask Chappell Roan if she wanted to join the hunters,” Thalia remarked.

Piper spun around so fast she almost wacked Leo in the face, “Ohh my gods tell me EVERYTHING.”

“This was before I joined,” Thalia said, “And she said no. But she still invites Lady Artemis to her concerts sometimes.”

Piper shoved herself in between the two siblings on the sofa, and began bouncing up and down in excitement as Thalia told stories of all the amazing women who have been asked to join the hunters over the years.

Jason, feeling a little crowded, stood up from the couch and went into the bedroom.

He groaned and rubbed his temples. Soon, he felt hands creep from his waist and hug him around the middle. Leo leaned his warm body into him, and rested his chin on Jason’s shoulder.

“Hmm…You okay?” Leo mumbled.

“Yeah…” Jason stayed in Leo’s embrace for a few seconds, then pulled away, leaning against the dresser.

Leo leaned next to him, sighing and folding his arms.

“You still thinking about what Thalia said? About your cousins?”

“Yeah…” Jason said, again. He turned to him, “What do you think I should do?”

Leo was silent for a few moments. “I dunno…”

“You have family, don’t you?” Jason asked.

Leo’s shoulders tensed slightly. Jason could see his expression become a little guarded, which hardly happened to Jason anymore. But biological family was a touchy subject for both of them. “Yeah. Lots.”

“Do you… ever think about getting back in touch? After everything that’s happened-“

Leo shook his head vigorously, “Nuh-uh. No way. I think it’s safe to say I don’t have the best experience with my extended family. My own cousins? They used to beat me up for being weird and skinny. I don’t owe those people a gods-damned thing.” He looked down, sadly, “And anyway, I tried… once. Chiron told me, after the fight with Gaea, that he called them to tell them I was dead. They just… didn’t care. My Aunt yelled at him for disturbing her and hung up the phone.”

“That’s horrible!”

Leo shrugged, “I don’t need them. I got you guys.” He glanced fondly through the open doorway of their room, over at Piper and Thalia, who were watching Mean Girls on the sofa (they both had a crush on Regina George), “You’re all the family that I need.”

“Still… there’s something to be said for finding your roots. Your blood. Could be a community there.”

Jason had spent his whole life trying to find where he fit. Camp Jupiter, Camp Half-Blood, on the Argo II, in the mortal world. He’d eventually found his place, with Piper and Leo. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t expand his people. His pack. If his relatives genuinely cared about him, and wanted to meet him…

Leo ran his hands through his hair, “Yeah… I get why some people think blood is important. But not for me. I love my mom because she raised me, not because she gave birth to me. You and Piper… you’ve showed me more love and kindness than the people that are s’pposed to take care of me. You’re my family.” He paused, then added, “But hey, I mean… If finding your blood relatives is what you need to do, then do it.”

“Plus,” Jason added, “If we ever have kids… hypothetically speaking… it might be nice for them to know their heritage.”

“It would…” Leo agreed, “But it’s not necessary.”

Jason sighed, “I don’t know why I’m getting all worked up about this. They don’t even know I exist yet. I guess I’ve sort of always had this fantasy of a nice, nuclear family structure. I know it’s stupid, but-“

“No, it’s not stupid!” Leo said, pulling away from the dresser and turning to face him, “If it’s something you want, then it’s something you want. It’s okay to want normalcy. Everyone has their own beliefs about what family should be. Yeah, it’s the template a western society pushes onto us, but that doesn’t make it inherently evil. It’s nice to want to know the people you’re related to. We’re pack animals- it’s in our nature,” he sighed, “Look. All I’m saying is I’ve done the whole “blood relatives” thing, and it didn’t work out for me, so I adjusted to live without it. Thalia didn’t want it either. That’s her choice. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

“But what if they’re shitty, like yours?”

“Then we just say fuck ‘em and we’ll go get ice cream.”

Jason rested his head on Leo’s shoulder, “You’re my favourite husband, did you know that? You’re just the best.”

Leo smiled, “And, if they’re really nice? Then… count yourself lucky, I guess. Not everyone can have that.”

“But you’ll have it,” Jason said, “Any family that is mine is yours now. If I get some shiny new family members then they’ll be yours, too. You might finally be accepted into a big clan of people.”

“That would be kinda nice,” Leo admitted, “But I’ll be happy either way. I’m happy just with you, bello. It is a wonderful dream, don’t get me wrong, and I love that you think it could happen. And I don’t wanna tell you to not get your hopes up, just… I dunno, I guess I find it hard to believe that a wider family like that could accept someone, love them unconditionally just because they share a few genes. But that reflects more about me than it says about you. I think you should go for it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jason nodded to the open doorway, “Come on, let’s go back out there before they decide to make Fetch happen.”

Jason thought fondly back to a conversation they’d had a few years ago, during one of their sessions of sitting together in the workshop.

“Hey, hermoso?”

“Hmm?” Leo looked up from his sketches. Jason still remembered it now. It was summer, and hot. Leo had tied his hair back to keep it out of his face as he worked. His bronze hearing aid glinted in the low evening light. This was back before they were married, and Leo’s engagement ring twitched a little on Leo’s ring finger as he tapped on the desk.

“I-I was thinking… what if I… changed my name?”

Leo had put his pencil down and turned in his chair, so that he was facing Jason.

“What, like, Fernando Grace or something?”

“No, the, er… the last name. In marriage.”

“So… Grace-Valdez? Or… Valdez-Grace?”

Jason shifted on the seat of his stool. Leo’s amber-brown eyes watched him, noting every tender movement, twitch, and mannerism as Jason sat before him.

“Well… how about just Jason Valdez?”

Leo thought for a moment. “You sure Fernando is off the table? Because I think-“

“Leo, I’m serious.”

“Sorry, I’m just uncomfortable with emotions,” Leo said, “That is… wow. It’s a lot to process… You’re really serious? Like, genuinely?”

“Yeah!” I mean… my mom was kind of a… a…”

“A bitch.”

“Yes. That. I’m perfectly fine with letting her name die out. I don’t really want to be associated with her, or-or what she’s done. But I want you to be a part of me. A part of my identity. I want to be a Valdez. If… If you’d let me.”

Leo’s expression was hard to read at first, Jason could see the cogs turning in Leo’s brain, thinking a million thoughts at once, but then he broke into a gigantic smile.

“Oh Jason! Of course! If you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Jason said, reaching out and taking both Leo’s hands in his, “I am sure.”

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [Okay, so I’ve hit my limit for pictures per posts, so I can’t use any more of those cool page dividers I made, so we’ll have to just pretend ;)] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Jason walked into his office the first day back from Winter Break.

He sat down in his office chair, and booted up the PC monitor. While he was waiting for it to load, he sat back and surveyed everything on his desk. This was his morning ritual: count your blessings, you have a lot more than you used to.

His eyes fixed on a photograph. Him and Leo at the altar on their wedding day.

Thalia stood to the left in her Best Man’s suit. Percy, Nico, Will, and Reyna had all been groomsmen. Piper stood to Leo’s right as his Maid of Honour. Frank had refused to wear the bridesmaid’s dress that Leo had picked out, and instead settled for a dark blue tux that really did kind of suit him. He stood beside Hazel, just behind Piper. The entire Hephaestus cabin had been the bridal party (little Harley had been a very cute flower boy). Even Hephaestus himself was there, and had agreed to walk Leo down the aisle. Jupiter hadn’t shown. Figures. Jason had to admit that he’d hoped his father would be there, but it was wishful thinking. He didn’t dwell on it though- that day had been the happiest day of his life, he wasn’t going to let his deadbeat daddy ruin it for him.

They were married in June- the sacred month dedicated to Juno. In Roman times, this was meant to be good luck and a blessing on your marriage. While both Jason and Leo had a… complicated relationship with the goddess, they tried their best to keep things civil for the sake of the special day.

Jason had worn a traditional Roman toga. It was white with gold embroidery. Leo had, of course, designed that as well. He was amazing with a sewing machine.

Leo wore a well-fitted tuxedo. The fabric was enchanted to flicker red and gold- with flashes of white and blue, like hot flames. He called it “girl-on-fire core”. It was lined with dragon hide on the inside, making it fireproof.

Wreaths of violets and marigolds adorned the wedding arch. Jason held Leo’s calloused hands in his own, feeling the heat coming off of them in waves, like holding a mug of hot chocolate on a cold Christmas day.

Aphrodite stood next to them under the arch, officiating the wedding.

“Do you, Jason Grace, take Leonidas-“

Leo coughed.

“… Leo Valdez, to be your husband- wed in both mortal law and in the eyes of the gods? Do you, in front of all the people gathered here today, pledge to be true and devoted to him, to have and to hold for eternity? From this day forward, do you vow to be with him, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, forever? In good times and bad, in sickness and in health, do you promise to love and honor him all the days of your life and beyond, never to part, even in death?”

Jason gripped Leo’s hands in his. He knew that the goddess Aphrodite was right next to him, but honestly? He didn’t give a flying fuck about her. And that was coming from the Flying Fuck himself. All he could look at was Leo. Leo was the most beautiful person in that room. He knew that would definitely displease the goddess, but Jason had given his whole life trying to serve the will of the gods. Now, he was creating a new life. With the phenomenal man in front of him.

Jason felt Leo’s fingers tapping against Jason’s palms where their hands were grasped. A familiar rhythm that Jason knew well. Two short taps. Short tap, long tap, two short taps. Three long taps. Three short taps and a long tap. Tap. Long tap, short tap, long tap, long tap. Three long taps. Two short taps, one long tap.

Jason grinned.

“I do.”

Maybe Aphrodite smiled then, Jason didn’t know. He was lost in Leo’s deep eyes, looking at him and him only.

“I really, really do.”

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

“Shit!” Jason whispered, as the fork fell to the ground with a loud clatter, “Shhh!” He told the fork, which probably didn’t help.

Leo was asleep on the in the living-room. He’d had another nightmare and had woken up in flames, scorching the duvet. After much consolation that no, Jason had not been hurt in the fire and that yes, it was just a dream, he had finally passed out curled in Jason’s arms, watching Frozen II on the sofa. That was at 5am.

It was now midday and Leo was still asleep. It was his day off, so Jason was currently trying to cook his husband breakfast. There was just one small issue…

Jason couldn’t cook.

He fussed about in their little kitchenette that led off their open-plan living/dining space, a Stand-Up Comedy Special on in the background, the volume down low so as not to wake Leo. He’d somehow managed to burn the avocado, meanwhile the hash-browns were still frozen cold in the middle. He was beginning to get super frustrated with this breakfast burrito. Why couldn’t he have just made cereal instead? But he wanted to do something nice for Leo, and thank him for all the times Leo had cooked.

“Fry bacon over medium heat until crispy,” Jason muttered to himself. As soon as he set the skillet down, the outlets sparked, causing the induction hob to short-circuit, the digital display blinking out. Jason tried several times, but it refused to switch back on. “Fine, be that way!” Jason snapped at the hob.

He didn’t really understand why Leo couldn’t just eat the bacon raw. Jason had been raised by wolves after all- he’d done it loads of times and had only gotten sick twice. But Leo loved food, especially good food. It reminded him of home, of his mother, and family gatherings where everyone all sat around the table good-naturedly, united by the meal enough to not yell at each other. Those mealtimes were the only happy memories Leo had of the family that had kicked him out on the streets and ruined his life. It was safe to say the other Valdezes had not been present at their wedding.

Jason thought back to his own upbringing. How his mom had been so drunk and zonked out that she’d forget to feed him and Thalia. Jason had been so hungry, he’d tried to eat a stapler. He knew Leo had had similar experiences on the streets, and, while Leo had never admitted it, that was probably one of the reasons why he was so short and skinny.

He’d gained a lot of weight since Jason had first seen him on that bus, which Jason was proud of. He imagined that he’d been even thinner before. He was glad to see Leo getting better, but part of him was still sad to see the damage it had done.

Jason wished he could cook. Maybe it was some primal wolf urge to look out for the runt of the litter, but also food was a comfort for Leo, and cooking was a love language to him. He wanted more than anything to make him good meals, see his face light up when he made him something.

“I’m not gonna fuck this up this time,” Jason muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of Leo’s proud expression when he showed off his culinary creation kept him going. He decided to light a small fire over the miniature brasier they kept on the countertop for offerings (scraped a bit of bacon and some sliced tomato into it, praying to Edesia, Roman goddess of Banquets for good luck) and decided to fry the bacon the old fashioned way.

Leo woke up at 1pm (Jason was glad he’d gotten at least the recommended eight hours of sleep). Jason immediately set the plate of burritos down on the coffee table in front of him, grinning eagerly.

Leo reached out and took the burrito, looking perplexed. He examined its contents, “You- you made this?”

“Yup.”

“You cooked?”

“Sure did.”

Leo glanced back at their kitchenette, as if checking for explosion marks. He sniffed the tortilla, cautiously. Jason sat on the edge of the armchair next to him, bouncing up and down a little on the cushion. He could almost imagine his tail wagging in anticipation.

Leo bit into the wrap, and his face lit up. “This is actually not bad! You’re getting better.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, querido. Es muy bueno. You can make this for me again.”

Jason beamed, proud of himself.

“Did you spend all morning on this?”

“I did. I wanted to do something special to cheer you up. I’m glad you like it.”

Leo took another bite. “Oh what a joy to wake up to!” He said, “You really are the best Husband ever.”

“I can’t be,” Jason said, “You exist.”

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

As the students filed out of the lecture hall, Jason turned and saw Leo leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in his usual suspenders and tool belt, this time over a black button-up shirt. A clean one, which was unlike Leo. He looked surprisingly dashing with his freshly-washed hair and his brown Doc Martens. Several of Jason’s students had stopped to stare at him, whispering behind their hands. Jason watched as Leo produced a bouquet of violets and marigolds from the back pocket of his tool belt.

Jason walked forward and accepted them, then kissed him on the cheek.

“What’s the occasion, mi cielo?” Jason asked.

“No occasion,” Leo said, “I just love you.”

Jason spied a few of his students taking pictures on their phones.

“You better not be posting those online,” Jason told them, “If I get home to find a hoard of monsters raiding our apartment you’re all getting Ds, understand?”

They nodded. He turned back to Leo.

“There’s still some work I’ve gotta finish up,” Jason whispered.

“Me too,” Leo whispered back, “But… can we talk? Later?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Jason said. He could feel himself blushing. His students were staring at them, giggling.

Leo noticed them too. He switched to American Sign Language.

“Let’s go to that restaurant we like. I’ll meet you there at 8pm.”

“Fancy!” Jason signed, “Are you sure this isn’t a special occasion?”

Leo smiled. “I just wanna take you out! I have money, I’m allowed to take my husband out on a date! Just don’t be late. I’ll see you there.”

He gave Jason another peck on the cheek. “I gotta run,” He said, “But talk later, okay?”

“Okay!” Jason called, as Leo rushed off.

Jason stood there, agape, for a few seconds, before the excited whispers from the small crowd of students snapped him out of it.

“Gods, I hope that was his husband.” “He’s so skinny!” “I thought children of Hephaestus were supposed to be huge!” “And ugly, but he was kinda cute.” “No, guys, did you see he’s got, like, five million photos of him on his desk-“

Jason cleared his throat, and they stopped abruptly, “Yes, if you’re curious, that was Mr Valdez. No, I will not be taking further questions at this time. Umm… Class dismissed.”

The gaggle of students left, dragging their feet and sneaking glances back at Jason, talking in hushed whispers.

A little dazed, he made his way up to his office and walked inside. Jason realised he was still holding the bouquet of flowers Leo had given him. He walked over to his desk, emptied his half-drunk cup of tea, washed the mug out and filled it up with water (Leo often teased him for drinking tea. He said it made him look like a British Grandpa. But Jason liked it). He plopped the flowers in it, and sat down at his desk to grade papers.

The sun had set in the early january hours when he heard a faint rap on his door. He looked up. Standing nervously in the doorway was one of his quieter students, Joshua.

“Umm… Professor Valdez?” He asked in a small voice.

“What is it, Joshua?”

“Can- can I come in?”

Jason gestured for the kid to sit down in the chair facing his desk.

“I was- I was working on a project for my Greek Studies course, and we had to write about one difference between Roman and Greek society…”

“Yes…?”

“Well, I wanted to write about how Greeks viewed queer identity compared to the Romans? Because they, like, had fundamentally different views on gender and sexuality and it’s super interesting to me. I know you’re a Roman History professor but you’re also one of the only queer teachers I know, and you’re also just a really good teacher in general… I was wondering if you could help me?”

Jason signalled for him to shuffle over to his side of the desk. He pulled up a few websites on his computer, and began talk about examples of different Greek art that depicted men-loving-men relationships.

They talked for a while, but then Joshua interrupted, pointing to one of the photos on Jason’s desk. “Is that your husband?”

Jason picked up the picture and smiled, “Yes. That’s us at a wedding we went to last spring.” It had been Hazel and Frank’s wedding.

“Woah…” he whispered. He paused, then said, “You know, I’ve always looked up to you. I grew up hearing stories about the Seven demigods who sailed on the Argo II. You’re all huge inspirations.”

Jason nodded at the photograph, “I think so too, that’s why I married one.”

“What was it like… all those months sailing, facing all those terrible monsters?”

Jason remembered back to all those times he’d found Leo crying in the engine room, shivering after a particularly viscous monster attack, a nightmare, or another dirt-formed vision of Gaea. Those tearful nights spent consoling him.

“It… it was hard, especially seeing as we were just teenagers. But at least we had each other.”

Joshua looked at the Rubik’s cube with its self-shuffling sides, “Woah. Did he get you that?”

“He made it, actually. He is one of the best mechanics in the western hemisphere, after all.“

Jason picked it up, fondly, turning it over in his fingers.

The conversation carried on, drifting (as all good conversations do) to Sappho and her poetry. It wasn’t until Jason checked the clock that he realised the time.

“Shit, I gotta meet the Mister for dinner in fifteen minutes. Sorry, Joshua.”

He scribbled down the titles of a few books the kid could borrow from the library, and shouldered his bag. Joshua thanked him and left.

Jason picked up his keys and went to turn off the light. Before he left, he turned and looked at the flowers in the cup. Violets and marigolds. The same flowers they’d had at their wedding. Purple and orange, like the colours of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. Leo had an appreciation for a good metaphor.

He turned out the light and left his office, locking the door behind him.

They were one of the first Greco-Roman couples to get married since the camps discovered each other. Their wedding had been a celebration of the merging of both sides. It was becoming more and more commonplace now, but they were in the early stages of creating new traditions between these partnerships.

Jason had always tried to do things a little differently. He’d never liked it when he was told he had to uphold all these “Roman Values” in order to be perfect. He didn’t want to have to fit in a mould. That’s one of the countless reasons why he loved Leo so much. Leo wasn’t perfect. He didn’t try to be. He faked smiles and confidence for survival, but he never stopped being so unapologetically himself while doing it. And when Jason was around him, he couldn’t care less about what people thought he should be. Leo made him a better person because of that.

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Jason thought back to their wedding day again.

He remembered their first dance, to the song “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman. Jason stumbled over his feet a little as they danced. Later that night, Leo had torn up the dance floor doing the Macarena. Jason wondered how Leo had managed to go all night without bursting into flames.

Much parties and drinking ensued. Jason was swamped with guests, congratulating him. He made polite conversation with them all, and was so distracted he didn’t even realise that Leo had left the room.

He felt a quick surge of panic as he searched for him, but it soon subsided when he saw Leo out on the balcony of the wedding venue, looking out at the city. He’d taken off his jacket and it was folded on the rail next to him.

The relief gave way to concern, though, when he saw that Leo was on fire.

Jason walked over to him and leaned on the balcony railing next to him, just out of reach of the flames, “Long day?” He asked, trying not to show the worry in his voice.

“Good day,” Leo replied, smiling at him. Jason instantly relaxed.

“Sorry I left- just had to get away from the crowds and cool off,” Leo nodded at the suit jacket, flames licking his face, “That’s the last time I wear something with heat-suppressing polymers. I had to, for safety and all, but man… it was so stuffy. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” Leo’s chest crackled quietly with the fire in the cool evening air, “Anyway, I needed to decompress. Let some of it out. “

“Understandable. It’s an emotional night.”

“I’m just so incredibly happy, Jason,” Leo said, “It’s hard to keep contained.”

Looking at Leo, Jason felt little zzzts of electricity buzzing through his hair. Yeah, he understood.

“Socialisation is exhausting,” Leo admitted, “Especially when you’re masking. Especially at an intense event like this. But don’t think I’m upset. I’m not. Just a little… overstimulated.”

Jason smiled, “I understand. Take all the time you need. Soon, though, we’ll be off on our honeymoon. Just you and I, alone together.”

Leo closed his eyes at the pleasure of the thought, “That would be nice.”

“Gods, I’m eager to get out of this toga. It’s itchy as heck.”

They exchanged a quick side-eye.

Jason sidled a little closer, careful to keep the fabric of his clothes out of reach of the flames. “I wish I could kiss you,” he said, frowning at the red fire brushing against Leo’s cheek.

“Hold your pegasi, lightning boy! We’re spending the rest of our lives together- there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to kiss me, don’t you worry.”

“I guess you’re right,” Jason replied.

Leo softened, “Your company’s enough for me, amor mio. That’s all I need.”

Jason looked back at the open doorway, at the party in the venue behind them. “Well I should probably get back in there. They’ll be wondering where we are. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you’re constipated.”

“How very dignified of you.”

Jason looked into Leo’s eyes, his brown irises turning orange in the glittering fire that wreathed his face, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Jason went back into the building, looking back at his husband and smiling. Then he proceeded to rejoin the party.

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Leo was waiting for him outside the restaurant. He now wore a black suit jacket over his black shirt and suspenders. Jason knew that it had been stolen from his wardrobe. Leo didn’t own many suits.

He’d chosen a table for two under the awning outside the restaurant. Jason kissed him on the cheek when he saw him and sat down across from him. A waitress came over and took their drinks order.

“Umm… Tea, please. Earl Grey.”

“Earl Grey?” Leo said, “That even sounds like a British Grandpa.”

Jason ignored him, “Milk, two sugars please.”

“Hey, whatever floats your trireme, man. And can I have the umm… the umm…” Leo clicked his fingers and scrunched up his face in concentration, “Come on, English!! The… frothy… cow… juice…”

“The what?”

Leo mimed a complicated charade of drinking a certain beverage, which Jason attempted to decipher.

“A… milkshake?”

Leo snapped his fingers and pointed at Jason, “Yes. That. See? I knew I married you for a reason.”

Jason shook his head in disbelief, “I apologise for… whatever that was,” He said to the waitress, “English isn’t his first language.”

“Shut up Valdez," Leo said.

Jason smiled.

The waitress flashed them her customer-service grin and left with their orders. Jason turned to Leo, his perfect Leo, sitting there across the restaurant table just looking perfect. Jason beamed at him.

"What?" Leo asked, upon seeing the cheesy expression on Jason's face.

"Nothing..." Jason said, "So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

Leo ran his hands through his hair. Even after all these years, he still knew how to take the breath out of Jason’s lungs.

“Umm… well, I was thinking hard about that conversation we had a couple months ago, I just haven’t been able to get it out of my mind since…”

“Leo, we’ve had a lot of conversations in the last couple months-“

“The one about having kids! I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes…?” Jason said, dreading what might come next.

“And I’ve decided,” Leo said, twisting the ring around his finger.

Jason held his breath.

“I wanna do it. I want to start a family. At some point. In the future. Not right now, but at some point.”

Jason actually jumped up from his seat. He hugged Leo.

“Oh, Leo, that’s so good to hear!!!”

“Yeah, well… I love you. And I guess, as the son of the God of Creation… I want to create something. With you. Something more than just a Roomba,” he sighed, “I’m not good with organic life forms, but that’s what we do, isn’t it? We face challenges together. We don’t always do things in our comfort zone, but ultimately we risk it for what it’s worth at the end… I dunno, I’m getting cheesy.”

Jason smiled, “I love your cheesiness, Leo.”

Just then, the waitress came back with their drinks and took their dinner orders. Once she left, Jason turned back to Leo.

“You know,” Jason joked, “Since I actually didn’t die fighting Caligula, I’ve always wondered what the Sibyl meant by I will “three letters, starts with D”. I’m guessing, since we re-united after the fight it meant things would eventually lead to “Dad”.”

“Or you’ve been dead this whole time, and this is a delusional Elysium dream,” Leo said in a monotone voice.

“Wh-what?” Jason hurriedly scanned Leo’s face for any sign of a joke, but for some reason he couldn’t quite meet his eyes. They were distorted somehow, like trying to see a monster through the Mist. Fog swirled around the two of them, so Jason lost sight of their surroundings, only Leo’s weirdly blank face. He caught a flash of Leo laughing- a burst between the freakily deadpan expression Leo wore. It was like something had glitched.

Suddenly, the room brightened. They were back in the restaurant, and Leo was looking at him with a curious expression, his brow knotted slightly in concern.

“I didn’t say anything,” Leo said.

“You… You said…” Jason tried to think back to their previous conversation, but his memory of it was somehow distant- like a wound closing from ambrosia.

Leo cocked his head to one side, “You sure you’re alright, Jase?”

Jason blinked, “I’m- I’m fine.” He shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. “Long day. Just a little sleep-deprived. Probably hallucinating. What were we talking about, again?”

“Baby names,” Leo reminded him.

“Oh, right.”

“I think Leo Jr is a very strong name for a child,” Leo said, “Imagine, “Leonidas Valdez the Second! Badass Warrior Mechanic!”

“But what if it’s a girl?”

Leo paused for a few seconds, then said “I was thinking… I could name her after my mom?”

Jason frowned, “Names have power though. While I love the sentiment, I don’t think naming your kid after someone who died young is a very good idea.”

Leo sighed, “You’re right.”

“But it’s a lovely thought, though.”

“Yeah…”

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Jason walked into class the next morning.

“Hey, Professor! How’s your twink?”

“He’s not my-“ Jason began, “Well, yes, he is kind of a twink. And he is mine. What’s your point?”

The students laughed.

Jason turned to the projector screen and began to talk, when a student interrupted him.

“Tell us more about your husband, Professor!”

Jason knew this trap. They were trying to de-rail the lesson, get Jason talking about something else and forget to set the homework. If they thought they were gonna get away with not having to learn about Roman History for half a lesson they were wrong. Jason wasn’t gonna fall for their games and tricks.

But oh! He was a sucker for talking about Leo. As much as he wanted to resist, he found himself sinking into a ramble about his husband’s amazingness.

“I mean, he’s only the best thing to come from Huston, Texas. Like, ever. And that includes Beyoncé.”

The entire lecture hall gave a collective gasp of shock.

“You’re not serious, sir?” A student in the front row whispered.

“I am. And I don’t say that lightly either,” Jason may have been raised by wolves, but even he understood Beyoncé’s reverence. “I very much respect Queen Bey and what she does. You know she’s actually a minor goddess now?”

“Really? The gods made her one?” Another student heckled.

Jason shook his head, “No, not the gods. Much like how the Roman Emperors survived for thousands of years because of how much they were worshipped by their subjects, Beyoncé’s cult following has helped her ascend to goddesshood too.”

“Woah…”

“I’d be surprised if the Eras Tour doesn’t do the same thing for Taylor Swift. My husband loves her. We wanna get tickets, but that would mean our kids will never be able to afford to go to college, so… it’s still open for negotiation.”

A student raised his hand, “What other celebrities became gods from their worship?”

“Well,” Jason said, leaning back on his desk, “Have you ever heard of a band called the Beatles?”

Once the lesson had ended, Jason was approached by one of his students. It was Joshua, the kid he’d helped with homework.

“I- I just wanted to thank you for your help, Professor. On the essay. I got a really high grade and I passed my class!”

Jason grinned, “That’s great to hear! I don’t wanna give too much away but I have a feeling you’ll do very well in this class, too.” He tapped the side of his nose, like he was telling some big secret.

Joshua still looked a little nervous, like he had something more to say but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Is everything alright, Joshua?” Jason asked, giving him his kindest smile.

“It’s just… umm… I wanted to thank you for being my favourite teacher. You’re such an inspiring role model… my- my parents, they d-don’t really like the sort of stuff I’m studying… the sort of stuff I was writing that essay about. They’re traditional, see? All about upholding Good Roman Values. But you, being so open about who you are, and about your husband… from someone as heroic and influential as yourself… it meant a lot to me.”

Before Jason knew what was happening, Joshua gave him a quick, tight hug. “Thank you,” the kid whispered. Then he shouldered his backpack, and left the lecture hall.

Jason may or may not have cried a little.

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Jason pushed a button, and a large metal door opened inwards onto Leo’s warehouse. He stepped inside, his footsteps echoing on the hard concrete floor. From the cavernous ceiling hung car engines, machine parts, and large automatons. All around him were cluttered racks, standing shelves, and an assortment of other storage solutions. Jason wove his way through the labyrinthine pathways forged from kicked-aside projects. He was carrying a large take-out bag from the Greek Restaurant across the street from campus. Despite the large open space, there wasn’t much room to walk, so he picked his way apprehensively through the mess, nervous that he might step either on some prized masterpiece, or something explosive.

He spotted Leo’s apprentice, Penny, working the forges in the back of the gigantic space. She was hammering out a sheet of stygian iron, her mousy-blonde hair tied messily out of the way. She wore large welder’s goggles, and oversized Dragon-hide gloves.

He gingerly stepped over machinery and made his way over to her, greeting her with a nod. She stopped hammering, and pushed her goggles onto her head with a gloved finger.

“Where’s your Jedi Master?” Jason asked.

She set her hammer down on a nearby workbench and glanced expectantly at his take-out bag. He reached in, brought out a greasy Tupperware box, un-popped the lid, and handed her one of the dolmades. Her expression didn’t waver, she continued to stare at the bag. Jason rolled his eyes and begrudgingly gave her another one. This seemed to satisfy her. “He’s up on the roof,” she said, popping the stuffed vine leaf into her mouth.

He thanked her, and made his way up the metal spiral staircase that led to the roof.

He found Leo sitting on the roof’s edge, facing away from him. Festus sat next to him on his hind legs, his large metal tail wrapped around him like a cat. They both turned when Jason came up. He walked over to them, patted the dragon’s bronze jaw affectionately, and sat down next to Leo, putting the take-out bag between them. He began to dish out the food. Leo raised an eyebrow at the missing dolmades.

“I had to bribe Penny to tell me where you were,” Jason admitted.

Leo chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. His dark curls bounced in the golden light of the setting sun. “That girl has learned well. Never waste an opportunity to swindle free food.”

“Oh, I see. You taught her that.”

They laughed, kicking their dangling feet off the concrete warehouse walls.

“So how was your day?” Leo asked.

Jason scratched Festus’ chin, absent-mindedly. He thought about Joshua, and about the other kids in his class. He thought about how proud he was of the papers he graded. He thought about the bright young minds. Jason had grown up fighting in the legion. He’d faced untold horrors in order to save the world. So had Leo. And they still were saving it in their own way. By passing his knowledge onto the next generation, he felt safe knowing that the future was in their hands. By teaching his students about demigod life, about Roman History, and also teaching them that it was okay for a tough Roman soldier to love another man, he felt like he was still doing all he could to protect the world, but he’d found a less life-threatening way to do it.

“My day was good,” He told him, “What about yours?”

As Leo talked about his latest commissions, Jason looked around him. He remembered how much Leo had saved up to be able to afford to buy this place. But he needed a place to keep Festus (Terminus had been very particular about where the dragon had been allowed to stay, since he technically counted as a weapon). It had meant their honeymoon was spent in some discount resort in the south of Mexico with a low budget hotel room, drinking cheap wine. Jason wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Leo really did love his machine shop. It had been a dream of his to own one since as long as Jason had known him. He knew that part of that was guilt for burning down the one his mom owned in Texas, that had been in his family for three generations. But Jason could see by the way Leo treated the space that he kept it working to honour his mom. And although Jason had never met Esperanza, he could feel her spirit in the air in this place.

He wondered if she’d be happy for her son that they’d found each other. Jason thought she would. She’d be so proud of Leo- how could she not? Leo was the best thing that had ever happened to Jason. He’d fought tooth and nail to save the world, and now they were living happily in New Rome.

Are we happy? A little voice in the back of Jason’s head said. They still had troubles and hardships ahead of them. Leo still struggled to sleep with the nightmares. Jason still couldn’t say Caligula’s name. People still looked down on Jason for dating the Greek who fired on New Rome. People still gave Jason shit for taking the last name of the man he loved. Queer kids in Jason’s class still struggled to be accepted by their parents. Wars were still happening. Demigods still died. Things might look completely different for them in a few years time. They could be drafted into another fight. They could lose each other. Again.

But they had found their little pocket of peace. The place and time where they could stay. And be happy. Because yes, they were happy.

He sat, side-by side with Leo, looking out at the sunset going from orange to purple to black. He wrapped his arm around his husband’s shoulders. The love of his life. His everything.

He was happy. Despite everything, he was happy. Jason was happy going to work every day, facing whatever there was to be faced, knowing he would come home to Leo at the end.

Jason looked into Leo’s eyes. Leo’s sparkling, dazzling eyes. The freshly-born stars reflected in them as the sky darkened to night. He watched them twinkle in those pupils as they shifted, busily scanning the sky for gods know what. He knew that he was happy, too. They had each other.

Sometimes the fates could be kind that way.

Jason sat on the warehouse roof, watching the stars come out. And he knew, right then and there, that whatever happened, everything was gonna be okay.

- ⚡️ - 💍 - 🔥 - [ L+J] - 🔥 - 💍 - ⚡️ -

Fuuuucckkk this took me ages to write but ohhh my gods-

This is now my longest fic ever and I’ve been obsessed with it for months.

Footnotes/Things I wanna talk about:

One day I realised “Hey, wait! I can make them get married!” And two months and 15K words later (I started writing this on Jason’s bday) here we are.

Penny, Leo’s apprentice- would you wanna see more from her? I know fics with ocs don’t do as well, but it will still mostly focus on Valgrace. I love the idea of talking about my otps from an outsider POV, I can expand on more lore for this universe, and be able to show them just being adorable and cute and fluffy together. Maybe while Leo and Jason are thinking more seriously about kids, Leo tries out his fatherly chops on his apprentice?

No we are not gonna mention Jason’s little “glitch in the matrix” moment back there. Nothing happened, what are you even talking about? [unless you think that would make a good fic to expand upon, I’d be prepared to take a dark route] Just pretend I added that in to explain away any plot-holes.

The “Jason wants to get in touch with his bio family and Leo’s a little sceptical” plot is something I’ve wanted to write about for a while. Particularly as Jason’s whole arc is about finding a place. They’re “The Lost Trio” because each of them are trying to find something. Jason’s trying to find who he is and where he belongs. Leo’s prepared to just settle for any place that won’t shun him for who he is. I fully believe that Leo is perfectly happy just the two of them, whereas Jason’s still on that journey of “what if there’s more of me out there?”. And Leo being Leo, he’d obviously help Jason with that, but he’d remind Jason that he would be loved no matter what, with or without a bio family.

Should I expand on that topic, write a conclusion? I left it a little open-ended and up to the imagination (and bc this fic is already 9k words long as I’m writing this and there are too many plotlines) but it would be something fun to follow up on, maybe giving it it’s own time to properly shine, and get down to the nitty gritty stuff. If the family is good to Jason, Leo would be happy for him but still a little bitter that he never got that chance. If the family is bad to Jason, Jason would struggle with what that means for him (he did a little bit of this in canon when he saw his mom’s ghost in BoO) and Leo would empathise with him, and reassure them that they’re still a family just as them.

I like to cite my sources, so here is the article I found about Ancient Greek wedding traditions in case you’re curious/need inspiration. It was an interesting rabbit-hole.

Also, a lot of this was inspired by @lavenderfairiez’s fic “All I wanted was you” so pls check that out.

Thank you to @xixovart for helping me with the Spanish. I am White As Fuck and British, and I get most of what I know of Latin American culture from In The Heights, so I apologise if I’ve gotten things wrong (I also used google translate for some).

I found I ended up making Jason speak Spanish a lot more than Leo- I feel like Jason is definitely more of an “endearing pet names” kinda guy, wheras Leo is the “fucking ruthless character assassinations” kinda guy. I also have this hc that Jason absolutely LOVES to speak Spanish to Leo, and does it at every opportunity. He thinks of it as “Leo’s language” and adores the fact that he can speak it now, because him and Leo are together, and that makes him so fucking happy.

Jason thinks Leo is just the best thing to ever happen to existence, and I love that.

Lot o’ thoughts about wedding vows, and the theme of promises for Valgrace and PJO in general. I’ve already made a post about it here

Leo is autisic. I feel like that had to be said bc it fuels a lot of my writing choices for this fic. Also I love it. Jason is so accommodating for his needs. They both look after each other and I love that for them.

I have WAY more where that came from. I have a timeline, a backstory, and, like, ten other fic ideas set in that universe. I have AUs of this AU. I have concept art. I have headcanons.

Please let me know what bits of this you enjoyed best, so that I can get a good idea of what to write next.

Page dividers made by me. I spent ages on them and I’m really proud of them so I might reblog with a few close-ups.

Tagging my usual fanfic/Valgrace peeps: @ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @imnoturfriend-im-a-swiftie13 @euryvices @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @ollieisanerd @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @keefessketchbook @frankzhang-appreciation-posts @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone in the Valgrace community- any hcs or posts that inspired me. You guys are just the best.

[isittherightword]

And I lost you

The one I was dancing with

In New York

No shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

So scarlet it was

I'm awake with your memory over me

That's a real fuckin legacy

To leave

So scarlet it was

Maroon

This morning I was dancing in my kitchen, first to bongos by cardi b and Megan the stallion but something came over me, because I'm hoping to do my application today, or at least make progress and see what's required of me. I turned on maroon and this is what came up.

You know the thing about the career shit is that it really was a heartbreak. I was really close to my friend who was going through a divorce after like 14 years together and it was crazy how much the depth of our grief paralleled each other. My first real, deep earth shattering heartbreak was my divorce from surgery.

I actually really did love it. It was love. I was enamored with everything- the discipline it took to wake up in the morning every day at 4 am. The amount of things we got done before most people even got out of bed. The idea of having to know everything internal medicine doctors know and also know how to cut people open and take out and rearrange their organs. The intimacy of it. The weight of the responsibility of it. The knowing of people in ways they could never know themselves. I also was in love with the rejection, the doubt, the need to prove people wrong who said I couldn't do it. I loved the challenge of it. And until this day when I think about doctors, surgeons always will be my people. The specialty I fit most with. It was a real match. There was real shit behind the decision. It wasn't all a lie as I've told myself all of these years. There was love there. Real, love.

So scarlet it was

maroon.

There was enough love that I was willing to endure abuse, cruelty, racism, gaslighting, neglect, rejection. I wouldn't have put up with all of that pain if there wasn't love there. It was love. It's ok to say that.

The job really was my identity. But it never fit right- like a pair of slacks a size to small that you have to unbutton in the car while you drive. There was always something about it that cut a little to deep- there was a cord that led to somewhere a bit to deep inside my soul that made a lot of the shit that we put ourselves through as surgeons destabilize me in a way that it didn't seem to affect my other colleagues.

I had to pause to think of why.

At the end of the day when all was said and done- I didn't like the actual job of performing surgery. The idea I loved- the concept of the intimacy of it all, the tangibility of healing people and respecting disease and leaving their bodies more whole through the trauma of the process. That idea in theory appealed to me. But the actual action of it wasn't enough to sustain me. I found the OR cold and anxiety provoking and draining. I didn't enjoy the pressure of it, and I never really felt that accomplished. I think if I had been in the right program where the abuse wasn't as severe as the places I ended up I may have finished, but I would have been, underneath it all, unsatisfied with my life and career. It wouldn't have been for anything other than a sunk cost fallacy. I have a lot of friends, who finally, after all of these years are just now finishing or recently finished, and when you ask them if it was worth it they laugh.

I had a patient who had a gastric wedge for a GIST tumor- a benign tumor of the stomach. Literally the surgery is cutting out a piece of the stomach like you would a pie. It's not complicated. It's simple, and usually people only stay one night and just go home. You use what's called a ligasure device which uses sound waves to cauterize (or melt) the tissue together and seal it. And that's it. You cut it out like a pie. Simple.

I got a call that night that he felt like he couldn't breathe. I saw him and a man who was as black as I am turned the color of grey sand, clutching his chest, telling me he couldn't breathe.

I thought he was having a heart attack, or a pulmonary embolism, but wasn't bold enough to bolus the heparin without getting the labs back. I did get him to the ICU. After what felt like hours, but must have been 15-20 minutes the labs came back and his hemaglobin was 4.5. If you don't know, normal is 15.

We called the ACS team and right there at the bedside they sliced open his abdomen. So much blood poured out of his belly- it covered the floor and made it slippery. To add to that one of the transfusion bags burst on the ground as we tried to massively transfuse him. So scarlet it was.

There was so much noise and chaos while the code went in it was deafening. Once the more senior residents arrived I had been tasked with the job of calling the wife. I called and called and called and called and called. Nothing.

Finally after all the blood had drained from his body onto the floor, his heart stopped and we had to pump on his chest as whatever was left squirted and slid out of his abdomen onto the floor, onto our hands, our scrubs, our shoes. It was everywhere. So scarlet it was.

Then the silence came. The code was over. What was a room rancorous with the chaos of trying to save a life fell silent with the failure. I have never heard anything that quiet in my life.

Until the sound of an iPhone pierced the air. When we found the phone, a picture of a beautiful black woman on the screen with the word "Wifey".

My senior resident later told me that the screams she let out would haunt him for the rest of his life.

That was when I knew the job wasn't worth it. I had known before. I had had a suspicion. I felt weary with the exhaustion of waking up at 4 am every single day. I was traumatized by the neglect and isolation in that program. I was isolated, I was deeply lonely. At the time, I had nothing. My immediate family was as toxic as ever and had left me to wither away and die, starved of love or support in a hostile, deserted environment. My friends were also suffering and couldn't take on the weight of my flailing arms, lest they get pulled under and drown as well. I was in love with a man who took pleasure in pretending to pull me out just to hold my head under the water again and again- a sick game of emotional waterboarding. I had nothing. And the love that had driven me to throw everything I was and everything I had into becoming a surgeon, had run dry after years of drought.

But that night, as I sewed a dead man's abdomen closed, and wiped the blood from his cold skin, put my hand on his eyelids to close his empty eyes, I knew. It wasn't worth it.

I didn't want the weight of the responsibility. I didn't want to be haunted by the memory of misfiring a ligasure device, wondering if such a small action took a perfectly healthy father away from his wife and two daughters. As doctors, we see people die all the time. Death is a natural event. Sometimes death is preventable, sometimes it's not. Sometimes the difference between life and death is a misfired ligasure or a misplaced stitch. The OR for me was already a cold, joyless, anxiety provoking place. The gravity of wondering if any move I made would haunt me for the rest of my life, rip a son, daughter, father, friend, away from this world, made it unsustainable. I had already sacrificed so much. My youth, my identity, my body, my mind, my spirit- I knew the weight of the job would eventually snuff out what small light was left of my soul.

So I left.

Pt 1/?

[perpetual-fool]

-

I think I'm going to create my own language. There's a few reasons. Initially there was the vain hope that maybe I could successfully communicate if everything was very explicit. I suppose the feeling that it might be fun should be enough. Currently I feel like it would be helpful in de-cluttering my thinking.

Conversational English at least, seems to be lacking a lot of the concepts I need. But honestly, mostly I think I need to stop automatically processing things as though they're valid. Like, I ran across this thing talking about 'bad' martial arts. Broadly, I suppose it was making fun of the excuses people give when their art doesn't 'work'. Issue being, they didn't define what 'working' meant. And they can't, really. It's too vague of a concept and the problem isn't that simple. You may as well talk about whether different martial arts have good 'stopping power'. But I find myself trying to rationalize things.

As I'm trying to come up with an example I'm realizing my ideas aren't actually sound. The same issue I think, I saw touched on from a clip with Neil deGrasse Tyson. He was saying, the claim that the earth is flat and the claim that the whole universe was once the size of a marble, are both equally absurd. And he was saying the difference is that one of them has evidence, which is technically not wrong. But the average science believer has likely not looked over that evidence. And judging from rumors of the replication crisis, the scientists themselves haven't necessarily been going through the whole 'science' process.

I have two points here. One, what the vast majority of people are believing is stories. And all those stories are plausible because they're consistent with other stories. Say, if you knew I collected swords, and I told you I bought another sword, you'd probably believe me. But if I told you I bought a helicopter and you know I'm unemployed, you probably wouldn't. And neither of those things is based on evidence. Two, on a personal basis, evidence is nothing like the stories. Like, if I take an idea like thermal expansion, deduce that bridges can't be solid or they'd break, and then see that bridges are actually built with joints and sometimes rollers that allow them to move, that's not based on evidence. That's based on the story, though I've been out of the Antitheism thing too long to tell you which fallacy that is. Actual evidence is like: I polished my cast iron pan and the egg slid around like an air hockey puck, except when it stuck. From which I deduced that the surface texture of the pan has virtually nothing to do with sticking.

S'yeah, I think I need to do something drastic to break the habit of rationalizing others' claims, and to rework how I think about stuff.

- Unrelated, I'm having gender feelings. Someone I follow recently picked the name 'October', which is a fantastic enby noun-name. Kind of enamored with it. And I have to admit, I'm not satisfied with mine. My feelings are leaning more feminine, I guess. I want a girl name, 'Aria' or something. But, while I'd like to be a cute androgynous girl, that's not what I am. I'm a big hairy man with thinning hair, it would be weird if I had a girl name. Sad about that.

[freakshowfallacy]

i should be worshiped (college student interview)

TAPE DURATION: 19:51   BEGIN OF INTERVIEW: 0:00   TAPE RESUMED AT: 12:43  

I should be worshiped.

Not as another idiot with more money than you, not as an "influencer" or a "trendsetter" who gets big numbers online, and by no means as a talented peer that you look up to. 

I should be worshiped like the Divine. I should be worshiped not as a human you think deserves special attention, but as a being on another plane of existence from you. 

I should be desired for my ethereal beauty and I should be envied for my magnificence.

You should want to die for me.

Do you really think you deserve that?

Of course I do. I understand that you might not be intelligent enough to comprehend it, but more so I know I deserve that.

I stand high, high above humanity, and you all look so pitiful from up here. 

You cry over things that need not be cried over, while you refuse to let yourself cry when the situation does call for it.

You anger each other and harm one another in spite of your constant claims that what you would prefer is peace and happiness. 

If you were just a little smarter, you would find such things easy to attain. It really is pitiful. 

The ignorance of humanity is greater than any sin they could have made up when constructing their strangely vain stories of a higher being who actually cares for them-

Are you saying God is a man-made concept?

Of course your god is self-imposed. This is another example of pitiful human behaviors. You have already made up someone to worship, written rules that only serve to further upset yourselves, and act as if he was the one who relayed them to you.

Your species has been equipped with brains that can only thrive off of pleasure, and yet you have worked so hard to ingrain into yourselves that anything pleasurable is a "sin" and therefore "evil" which is punishable.

You all let yourselves be dominated by fear. I am above this.

Do you believe- Do you know if this fear is fatal?

It is. The downfall of this race will have no wholly correct attribution besides itself. 

If there is no God, who is in charge?

Nobody is in charge. As much of it as they have inflicted entirely on themselves, humans do not like fear. They have tried to convince themselves that there is order to this existence, because order leads to predictability, and, more than anything, humanity lives in fear of the unknown.

Again, I live above all of this. I look down upon the human race with unpleasant disgust.

What happened to pity?

I said you were pitiful. Not that I would pity you. A lesser being, perhaps, would lack enough awareness to pity you.

Why should humanity acknowledge your divinity? What can you promise in return?

I will promise nothing. To answer your question, there is a degree of enlightenment you seem to lack that I could offer, but I will promise nothing. 

I understand that the made up higher being had a made up promise of "protection" or perhaps "salvation", but no one should need to be promised something in order to be helplessly enamored by my grace.

I should be recognized easily for where I sit far, far away from the rest of this mess. You should fall in love with my image. You should become obsessed with me. You should fall in love with the idea of me. You should become obsessed with appeasing me.

The truth is, I don't need to promise anything for humans to think they can still get something out of serving me. That is humanity's true "sin". Blind ignorance. What have been labeled the "Cardinal Sins" were close. But all of those stem from blind ignorance. 

You are beyond saving. You will never wake up. You will forever chase pleasure, but you will never reach it and only fall further and faster as you run.

I should be fawned over and idolized not for these words, but for the undeniable truth:

I stand above humanity.

I could be saying anything right now, I could start lying to you, I could pretend to be one of you, but it would still hold true.

I should be worshiped.

END OF TAPE

[hangmanssunnies]

When I tell you, I’m insane about this story. I meant it. The mobile app literally did not let me add all my screenshots. They wanted to limit me to 10? Absolutely not; I had more things to comment on, and I was going to do it. So I found a workaround so I could attempt to explain how enthused I feel about this fic.

I loved this second part so much. I loved all the different aspects we got to see of Cross and Coyote. I loved seeing them with his mama, I loved seeing them as friends, and I loved seeing them take the first steps into actually being more together. I adored every moment. I once again felt like I wanted to highlight every sentence.

Very long thread of thoughts below.

I don't think I said it last chapter, but Cross is so cool for doing this for Javy. Yes, I know she is in love with him, but still. Pretending to be dating someone ( who you are very in love with) would be rough, and Mrs. Machado is so clearly so wonderful, it would be hard to knowingly lie to her. Also, seeing Javy again after that kiss the night before would be ... a lot. So, I completely understand Cross being nervous.

Oh, I am giggling!! Javy is distracted by the pretty girl in his car. Our man is checking her out! Checking over his shoulder or getting a better look? 👀👀👀 I know he can be more eloquent, but he is probably trying to hard to think respectful thoughts right now.

Oh, to be complimented by Javy Machado. 😍😍😍 I was ready to blush when he said the dress was nice, then to be actually complimented !!!! I would scream. I would be flustered. Yes, Cross is right. I wholeheartedly believe that he would be complimenting his girl all the time. I think one of the things I enjoy most about how you write Coyote is that he is so open and honest. I definitely would never stand a chance knowing him. Glowing from his compliments!!! I'm sorry I think I'll cry.

Oh goodness, this moment destroyed me. Wrecked me!! In several ways, actually. First of all, I knew that Cross winning darts when they first meant something to Javy. It was wonderful to have the confirmation here. The concept that Javy might not be great at taking praise actually wrecks me here. All of these little mannerisms you add in are phenomenal. How he starts ripping up the straw! and leg bouncing!!! I very much love him and want to give him all the compliments in the world and tell him just how amazing he is.

My breath caught on the "it was to me" line. The effortless honesty that these two share is so special. Cross wanting him to know that because it's true. That felt so natural!! They are clearly soooo enamored with each other, getting lost in themselves right in front of his Mama!!! A JAW CLENCH !!!! 🥵😵‍💫Please excuse me while I go scream.

HE NOTICED HER !!! fuck me UP !!!!

Javy is so cute retrieving his Mamas scarf, actually. 🥹🥹🥹 I love him so so so so much. Also, I think I gasped when his phone background was a picture of the two of them. Something tells me that definitely wasn't part of this little ruse.

I loved everything about the shenanigans of the wing eating contest. Seeing them have fun together like that!! Javy has an amazing heat tolerance, I loved that detail. I love him. I love them together. They have obviously been so wrapped up by each other for a long time now.

screaming, crying, throwing up, and crying again. She grabs his shirt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank god Javy's a gentleman. Seeing Cross in his shirt I'm sure did some things to him. Also, I am obsessed that he came right back to her house to check on her and see her. The fact that he was worried. I love him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He is polite in putting his cup in the sink!! The little details you add in about Javy really make this fic pop in the best of ways. I love him so much. I don't know what I expected him to say but it wasn't that, I literally gasped. Javy said that and it felt so absolutely right that he did because it has always meant something though hasn't it? They have always meant something to each other from the start. I was already wrecked at this point... I have no idea how I made it through the rest of this chapter.

hot hot fuckk fhiajjfa;j HOT. I know that these comments are getting progressively incoherent, and honestly, Javy is completely to blame. You just wrote him as so so so damn attractive. So damn adorable !!!

I'm sorry... HOT !!! The tension between these two absolutely sizzles off the text. The fact that he isn't even touching her here!! Javy doesn't even need to touch to make me feel like I'm going to go crazy. Cross is so strong for not melting in place here. YEAH JAVY YOU RIGHT THERE IS NO WAY IT WAS JUST GOOD. I am so glad that he feels that way too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🫶��

My brain goes BRRrrr. I think that maybe part of Javy loves that Cross is the one who kissed him first. His smile🫶 🥹 The Fact that he is wearing a henley is so hot, actually. A phenomenal reminder so great!!! This kiss is everything to me. Sana, your descriptions are so damn good. Javy is beautiful; thank you for writing him that way. When he kissed her knuckles, I might as well have passed away.

SNUGGLES OH WOW!!! SNUGGLES !! This man is really going to drive me actually insane. I love him so much. I also really liked that they both have this need to be close to each other now that they can. While they both obviously have a sexual attraction, that's not all their relationship and connection is. Also, SNUGGLES? Fuck it's just so cute; I need to take a breather. I would beg for cuddles with him any day of the week.

I adored that he doesn't want Cross to change out of his shirt. Further proof that seeing her in his shirt is affecting him. I like how this is easy for the two of them because they know each other while simultaneously being something new and nerve wracking. I would be so buzzed being that close to Javy. Then when they finally settle together, I was very heart eyes.

Javy's back story was so sad, and oh so real to me. I was so sucked in and affected that I couldn't even screenshot any quotes. I was so close to tearing up that I had to power through and not dwell. However, it was so so phenomenally well-written and interesting. Fantastic writing. Your brain!! 🫶😍

As I said, Javy's story with his ex made me emotional. THIS RIGHT HERE BROKE ME. BROKE ME, I SAY!!!!! I want to kiss him for the rest of eternity. He is wonderful. He deserves the heaven and the earth. I am so so so so happy Cross stopped him and said these things to Javy. She is absolutely right. Javy trying to act like he was the one completely in the wrong, was ridiculous because, as we know, Javy is a wonderful man. So thank goodness Cross immediately went to try and set things straight. It's what he deserves, and I can see how well they fit together because it's also what he needs.

Crying for real now... they... them...

"YOU'RE NOT SELFISH FOR ASKING SOMEONE TO LOVE YOU ... AND I THINK YOU DESERVE SOMEONE WHOM YOU DON'T HAVE TO ASK."

Sana!! POP OFF. This went so hard. When I say real tears were shed, I meant it. An absolutely beautiful, wonderful sentiment for anyone, but in reference to Javy... absolutely transcendent. He does deserve that kind of love. He isn't selfish. He is good, honest, kind, and smart.

Thank you for writing and sharing this wonderful story. I am messed up in the absolute best ways. Honestly, you could have ended this fic here, and I would have loved it forever. So the fact that you have two more parts planned is so exciting, and I know they are going to thoroughly wreck me with Javy's hotness, sweetness... and sexiness.

your love is the love i need || chapter 2/4

pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross

summary: Cross and Javy continue their charade, try not to think about the kiss, and share secrets of heartbreaks past

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – even though there is no smut in this chapter, there will be some in the next

length: 7.3k

A/N: once again, thank you to my anons who send inspiration, and the people who let me brainstorm with them @daggerspare-standingby (also ty for beta-ing!) @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @peakyrogers💙

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Sunday

It’d been a productive morning, which you were choosing to believe was because you were a productive person.

Absolutely not because if you sat still for more than two seconds you started panicking. 

You cleaned your kitchen—not merely putting away dishes and swiffering the floor, no, you windexed the windows of your kitchen. Outside and inside.

You ran a load of laundry for the dagger squad—after a day of dogfight football and the news that the laundromat on base had flooded, they’d dropped sandy towels, tshirts, and swimsuits off with you, promising to pay you back with coffee.

You made dough for cinnamon rolls—it  took 8 hours to rise in the fridge, and you could have a good answer for “what did you do this morning?” or “and what will you do for the rest of the day?”. And in the absolute worst case scenario, you could use it as an emergency escape plan if required, but you doubted it would come to that.

You turned your closet inside out, trying to decide what kind of image you wanted to present and ultimately deciding on a sundress with a light cardigan. You were wondering if it was too on the nose when you heard a car pull up outside. 

Javy’s mom probably expected him to walk to the door to fetch you and, as fun and confusing as last night had been, that wasn’t how you wanted to start today. You locked your front door quickly behind you, and were sliding into the backseat of the car before Javy was able to get out of the driver’s seat. 

“Good morning!” you sang, wondering if you sounded as fake-happy as you felt. 

“Good morning,” Mrs. Machado said warmly, smiling over her shoulder at you. “What did you up to this morning?”

“Ah, not much,” you lied through your teeth, pulling on your seatbelt. “I did get started on a batch of cinnamon rolls, so that’s exciting.”

“Oh, do you bake much?” she asked.

“Not at all,” you sighed, wanting to lie, but also knowing you’d be doing enough of that today, so the truth slipped out easily. “I was just nervous, so I needed something to do.”

“Sweetie,” Mrs. Machado fully turned in her seat to smile kindly at you, “you don’t need to be nervous! I’m just pleased to have time with you and get to know the other special lady in Javy’s life.”

You smiled back at her like you were reassured, when the opposite was true. You looked nervously at Javy, to find his eyes on you in the rearview mirror. You didn’t recognize the expression on his face, which did nothing to calm the butterflies in your stomach from her words, so you looked away quickly, hoping you hadn’t blown this already.

“That’s,” Javy cleared his throat, checking over his shoulder before he turned the car around, “that’s a great dress.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, flattered that he’d noticed. You supposed you didn’t wear dresses that often around the squad, so it was probably something like a shock. 

“Duckie,” Mrs. Machado chided softly, “you can do better than that.”

“Momma, I don’t need—” Javy grumbled, but broke off when his mother just lifted an eyebrow. His eyes met yours in the rearview mirror again, before they darted down to the reflection of your dress, and up again. 

“You look beautiful,” he said.

And it was three words, three very simple ones, but they settled deep in your skin, the kind of compliment that made the sun shine warmer. Javy looked like he meant them, too, he looked earnest and honest, which was a combination you’d never stood a chance against. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t seem flustered.  After all, surely Javy would give his actual girlfriend compliments like that all the time—but you got the feeling that if he told you the same three words every day for the next fifty years, you’d still glow from them. 

You looked away first again, out the backseat window to watch the car pull over the Coronado bridge. There were runners in the pedestrian lane, bright neon splotches against the bay and the sky, the same shade of gray as the morning mist hovering over the sea. North Island blurred into La Jolla, and Javy dropped you and his mom off in front of Harry’s Coffee Shop, while he looked for a spot to park the car. 

Mrs. Machado linked her arm through yours, as you walked up to the restaurant and asked for a table for three. They seated you at a brown leather booth in the back and you busied yourself with the menu before recognizing Javy’s voice as he spoke to the seating hostess. You expected him to slide in next to his mom, but he sat on your side of the booth, facing her. His arm went across the back of the booth, not quite touching you, but you could feel the warmth of him through the cotton of his henley all the same. 

Mrs. Machado was studying her menu, but the corners of her mouth turned up suspiciously when you pushed your menu towards Javy.

“So,” she asked brightly, once a waiter had come to drop off waters and take your order, “I want to hear your version of how first you met my son.”

Of all the questions she could have asked, you were relieved she’d chosen one that would require little to no embellishment on your part. You glanced at Javy, who was fiddling with the wrapper of his straw, somewhat embarrassedly, before looking back at Mrs. Machado. 

“Well, it was right after I was assigned to this detachment,” you began. “Some guy was being creepy to this girl at a bar, I called him out on it, he wasn’t backing down. Then Javy stepped in, flexed a bit, and the guy was humbled pretty quickly.”

Mrs. Machado’s jaw dropped, looking at Javy. “I thought you met while you were playing darts!”

“We did,” he said stubbornly, and it didn’t surprise you at all that he’d downplayed his role on that night. “She came over and beat Jake—you should’ve seen his face, Momma, it was hilarious.”

“That’s when we met,” you acquiesced. “But my first impression was before that, when this guy was in full Knight In Shining Armor mode.”

“Yeah, call me Lancelot,” Javy joked, winking at his mom, like it was easier to brag than accept praise. He’d started peeling strips in the paper wrapper, a little pile of confetti forming on the glass tabletop. 

“More like Galahad,” you told Mrs. Machado, who looked at you fondly. “No, seriously, it was like something out of a movie. I half expected him to have some John Wayne line like ‘I think you’d better listen to the lady’, something like that.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Javy grumbled, and you shook your head. 

“It was to that girl,” you insisted. “It was to me.” 

You weren’t sure when you’d moved, but your hand was on his forearm, an unspoken emphasis of the weight and meaning behind your words, but you withdrew it quickly. He wasn’t looking at you, but you saw his jaw clench, looking down at the table; you looked back at Mrs. Machado, who was smiling proudly at her son.

“That’s my boy,” she said fondly. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the clear affection between the two. A waiter came by with coffees, cleaning off the table and picking up Javy’s scrap pile. You felt the bench start to shake and you realized he was bouncing his leg—was he nervous? He couldn’t be. His mom seemed like the kindest person, and this story was pretty damn congratulatory. 

But his leg kept moving, and it was making you nervous, so you shifted slightly, your leg resting next to his. You regretted it almost immediately—with his arm almost over your shoulders, and his long leg now pressed against yours, Javy was entirely too close to you for you to be able to complete full sentences. But his leg did still, so you figured that was better.  

“Anyways, darts came after that,” you said, continuing the story. “Jake was beating him pretty embarrassingly, and I’d wanted to say thanks anyways, so I went over and introduced myself.”

Mrs. Machado poured some sugar and cream into her coffee, sliding the sugar jar down the table to you. 

“Well, I’m glad I asked,” she said. “I figured there was more to the story than a bar game.”

“He may not have noticed me before then,” you shrugged, “but that’s when I saw him.”

“I noticed you,” Javy said quietly. 

He didn’t seem to realize he’d said it aloud, but the table was quiet as you and Mrs. Machado stared at him. He looked between the both of you, lifting a shoulder lightly. 

“Come on, are you kidding, of course I noticed you.”

And it warmed you, the same way his compliment in the car, that he’d say something so kind with absolute conviction. A tiny voice in the back of your head whispered that it wasn’t real, but his brown eyes held brightness and honesty, so you told that voice to stuff it, and turned back to Mrs. Machado.

“Well, there you have it,” you said, reaching to fix your own coffee.

Mrs. Machado smiled over the rim of her mug, looking between the two of you, before the conversation shifted. You talked about your hometown, what Javy was like growing up, how training was going between missions. 

Safe conversation topics, topics without surprises. 

Maybe that’s why you felt brave enough to lean back a little, relax into the warm leather of the booth, your shoulders brushing against Javy’s arm. Maybe that was why his hand dropped from the back of the booth, his thumb ghosting over the thin material of your cardigan. 

The rest of the meal flew by, and you’d tried to break away after breakfast, but Mrs. Machado had insisted that you come with them as they walked around Balboa Park. So you joined them in playing tourist for the afternoon: picking out glass ornaments in the Spanish Village Art Center, coming up with names for the koi fish in the ponds at the Japanese Friendship Garden, struggling to pronounce Latin names in the Botanical Gardens. 

Your phone died somewhere between the Casa de Balboa and the Old Globe Theater, and so it was Javy’s phone that you handed to strangers offering to take pictures of the three of you. The wind caught Mrs. Machado’s scarf as you were posing by the lily pond; Javy took off to chase it, and the kind tourists held out his phone to you, photo opp deferred. You thanked them, waving apologies for having interrupted their afternoon, as Javy leaned dangerously far over the pond, trying to snag where the scarf had tangled in some bulrushes. 

You swiped through the pictures they’d taken, laughing at the stop-motion effect of the wind blowing her scarf away, but the pictures they got before then were cute. You minimized the camera by force of habit; you didn’t mean to look, but Javy’s background made your heart skip a beat.

It was a picture of the two of you.

Last month.

“This is the dumbest idea any of you have ever had,” Phoenix announced, to a roomful of ears that were absolutely not listening. 

“Yes, but it’s team bonding,” Fritz said, dragging a stack of chairs across the Family Center. “You know how Mav feels about that.”

“THE dumbest idea,” Phoenix reiterated, “and, really, guys, that saying something.”

But she grabbed another stack of chairs. 

Fanboy’s latest comfort youtube content was various Star Wars cast members on Hot Ones—the show where celebrities were interviewed while eating increasingly spicy chicken wings—and as a gag gift, Payback had gotten him a verified box of the hot sauce lineup. One thing had led to another, and now an industrial amount of wings had been delivered to the Family Center, while half the squad was raring to prove that they had the strongest tastebuds.

Or, at least, the most fireproof ones.

“So, Phoenix,” Rooster called, “is that your way of saying you’re not gonna join in?”

“Absolutely not,” she responded. “This is not a question I need answered.”

Everyone laughed, as you arranged chairs around a foldout table. 

“Halo?” Hangman asked, lifting his hands in dismay when she shook her head. “What? Come on.”

“I feel like she’s protecting our dignity,” Bob said, as he carried over a couple gallons of milk and some paper cups. 

Everyone looked at Callie, who smiled slightly.  

“I was raised on Ma La Xiang Guo, guys,” she shrugged, pointing to a sauce with a literal skull and crossbones on the label. “I could brush my teeth with that stuff and be okay.”

“It’s all good,” Hangman said, with an impish smile as he looked between Phoenix and Halo, so you knew what he was about to say was just to goad them into reacting, “we all knew a man was going to win this anyways.”

And apparently it worked. 

Because, without batting an eye, Phoenix announced, “Cross’ll do it.”

Your head whipped around as you heard your name spoken from down the table. “Cross will what now?”

“Welcome to the competition, Crossy,” Jake crowed, slapping a paper plate down in front of you.

You looked down at it. “Guys, I’m not—”

“Feminists everywhere are counting on you,” Phoenix said solemnly. 

“Remember when you said this was a dumb idea?” Payback asked, and she waved a hand at him. 

So that’s how you ended up sandwiched between Rooster and Harvard, eating wings doused with hot sauces that sounded like terrible porn star names, and hoping the lining of your stomach could take it. 

It was fine, and then it suddenly really, really wasn’t. 

Bob tapped out on the fourth one, bless him, and Omaha was out on the fifth. Rooster hung on for a couple more, Payback too, but by the time you were down to the final two sauces, it was you, Fanboy and Coyote. 

“For our penultimate round, ladies and gentleman,” Hangman croaked, his voice hoarse from Da Bomb, the sauce that had knocked him out in round eight, “I present to you—Unique Garlique, by Puckerbutt Pepper Co.”

“That is not the name of the company,” you groaned, your eyes streaming. 

You’d started crying around round six, and had accepted it as your fate. No way were you about to touch your eyes, and sweet Bob stood beside you with a tissue, patting at your face helpfully, but it really was no use. 

“Tragically, he’s not,” Fanboy sighed, dabbing some sauce onto a wing, before passing the bottle to Coyote.

And honestly? Fuck him. Because you were actively weeping, Fanboy was sweating patches into his uniform, and Coyote looked like he’d maybe gone for a light jog. If anything, he was glistening, like some eau de perfume commercial from the early 2000s, and it really was ridiculous. 

He handed the bottle to you, and you grimaced, reading the label. “How does something as innocuous as garlic somehow contain 642,000 Scoville heat units?”

“You can always tap out, if you need,” Hangman teased, and you wanted to flip him off, but that took more energy than you had to spare.

“I want you to know,” you told him, not looking up from the wing that was practically glowing with garlic poison, “that I’m channeling all of my pain into anger at you specifically, and I will win this damn thing on spite alone.”

“The American way,” Coyote said, cheersing his chicken messily into yours with supernatural enthusiasm, and then Fanboy’s. 

You three took a bite.

You three chewed, thinking maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

And then you three saw hell.

You could not drink enough milk, and Natasha was trying to be helpful by fanning you with a notebook, but somehow it felt like that was stoking the spiciness higher. Your mouth felt like it was actively on fire, and you were pretty sure your throat was closing up on itself.

“Holy shit,” Mickey wheezed.

“What if we just die,” Javy rasped, “what are they gonna tell our families?”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled. “Only one more, right? Then I have clear and convincing evidence that I am more of a man than Hangman could ever dream to be?”

Javy might’ve snorted beside you, but he also might’ve just been choking. 

“Oh, babes, you passed that a while ago,” Callie said soothingly, rubbing your back.

“One more,” Bradley confirmed, and he slid the bottle down the table to the three of you.

The Last Dab, it was called.

You looked at the bottle—orange red, with a flame logo, and a lovely worded description that explained how it was the only hot sauce in the world made with the apollo pepper, and the Scoville heat units couldn’t even be calculated.

“Well, I have had a stunning epiphany,” Mickey said, slapping his hands on the front of his pants. “And that is that I straight up do not need this. I’m out.”

“Garcia’s out!” Omaha yelled.

“He yieldssssssssssssss,” Jake called, like he was an announcer at an internationally broadcasted sporting event, not standing in the middle of a team of dripping, miserable pilots. 

You looked at Coyote.

At his ridiculously handsome face, with his ridiculously calm demeanor, with his ridiculously nonplussed expression, as he handed the bottle to you. “We doing this?”

You desperately wanted to say no.

Just go stick your head in a freezer or stand under a cold shower for the next three hours or drink your weight in orange juice until your body felt some semblance of normal. But Javy was looking at you like he was having fun, like he and you were the only ones in on this joke, and you weren’t about to walk away from that.

Also, feminism, peer pressure, all that. 

“We’re doing this,” you sighed, coating the final wing. 

He poured the sauce onto his wing resolutely, then shrugged, following the tradition of the show and dabbing an additional glob on top. 

“Lagniappe, and all,” he muttered. 

“Laissez les bon temps rouler,” you offered, those two phrases combined being the extent of the New Orleans slang that you knew. Javy flashed a smile at you as you clunked your chicken wings together in a cheers, then took a synchronized bite.

God, it was awful.

Truly horrendous, mind-bogglingly painful, and if you hadn’t already been openly weeping, this would’ve done it. The squad was going crazy. You were pretty sure Natasha was taking pictures, Jake was being an exceptionally good sport and had started clapping and the whole room was yelling, cheering like you’d won dogfight football, and for a moment, you felt it—you were on the team. 

Javy caught the scarf. 

He returned, brandishing the colorful fabric like a banner, and Mrs Machado patted his cheek as he helped wind it about her shoulders again. You didn’t say anything about the picture, turning off the display on his phone, before you handed it back to him, and tried to forget about it for the rest of the day. 

Mrs. Machado had an evening flight and there were a few more things that Javy had wanted to show her before she left, so you thought that now would be the perfect opportunity to give them some time alone, and use your cinnamon roll excuse. You borrowed Javy’s phone to call yourself a ride, and bid your goodbyes to your fake boyfriend’s mom. She held you so close when she hugged you goodbye, making you promise to text Javy once your phone had battery again, letting them know you’d gotten safely home, and you felt guilty the whole ride back to your place. 

Maybe that’s what all this was—an extension of your guilt. 

Guilt had you so on edge that you’d imagined Javy being calmed by your touch this morning. And he’d probably kissed you last night because it was part of convincing his mom. And his phone background—well, the phone background was hard to explain. 

It looked like the picture had been taken right before that final wing, at the impromptu competition last month. A nervous smile was on your face and you’d closed your eyes bravely. Beside you, Javy was laughing at something you’d said, his eyes on you, his expression one you didn’t remember. 

But, maybe you’d remembered that wrong too. 

You’d only looked at the picture for a couple of moments, and maybe there was something you hadn’t seen—Jake acting a fool or something funny that would make sense for Javy to keep it as a background. 

Guilt and emotional exhaustion made a hell of a cocktail, so you let autopilot take over as soon as you got home. Plugged your phone in, rolled out cinnamon rolls, put them in the oven, cleaned the kitchen while they baked, set them on a rack to cool and clipped your hair up before you hopped in the shower. You were almost done with the arduous process of moisturizing your whole body when there was a loud knock on your door. 

You made a face at your foggy reflection in the over-the-sink mirror; someone must’ve gotten the wrong address for one of your neighbors. As you readjusted the towel under your arms to continue rubbing lotion into your legs, the knocking continued.

“Wrong apartment,” you called, hoping they’d realize their mistake soon. 

“Cross, come on, open up.”

You froze, recognizing that voice.

Shit. 

Glancing around the still misty bathroom, you realized your clean clothes were in your bedroom, opposite of the way to the door, but you weren’t about to answer the door in a towel. Thankfully, the closet that held your washer and dryer was right next to the bathroom, and you rooted around in the dryer for the first tshirt you could find, sending a moment of gratitude to the universe that your front door had none of those filtered glass panes on it. You shoved your arms into the shirt as you struggled into some pajama shorts on your way to the door.

“What are you doing here?” you asked before the door was opened, and even then, only wide enough for your head to poke through.

Javy was leaning against the door frame, arms braced on either side of it, and you noticed his shoulders relaxed a bit when he saw you.

“You’re okay?” he asked, his eyes running over you, seemingly scanning for some nonexistent injury.

“What?” you blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine, what…”

All at once, you remembered the promise you’d made to his mother, and your phone charging in the other room, and how long it’d been since you’d gotten into the car at Balboa. You looked up at Javy, clocking the relief and stress warring in his expression. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, your nose wrinkling. “I just got carried away with stuff and—”

“Is that my shirt?” Javy interrupted you, and you looked down. 

It was his shirt. 

You’d grabbed it out of the tumbled load in the dryer, which you now remembered was one of the last dogfight football loads.

“It was the first one I grabbed,” you said, quickly. 

Javy didn’t say anything, but his hands did drop from the door so he could cross them across his chest. And he was smirking, damn it, something that should be annoying or at least not attractive, but it was, and it made you want to stomp your foot. 

“It doesn’t—“ you tried again. “Don’t be weird about it, okay, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure, Cross,” he said, that lazy smile growing, and you pursed your lips, refusing to give into the impulse to smile back. 

“Okay,” you said, knowing it was petty, but pointing to the phone he held in his hand, “is that my picture?”

Javy’s jaw actually dropped.

“Don’t be weird about it,” he mumbled, a moment later, stuffing his phone in his back pocket, parroting your words back to you. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

It was your turn to hum, amused. 

But you did feel bad that he’d been worried enough to drive to your place, so you stepped back, opening the door to your apartment. You walked through it without waiting for Javy to follow you, heading into the kitchen to cover the cinnamon rolls, the smell of them still lingering in the air. You heard the door shut behind you, and smaller shuffling sounds as Javy toed off his shoes.

“You actually made cinnamon rolls?” he called after you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be offended by the surprise in his voice.

“To everyone’s shock and amazement, yes,” you replied, flipping on the tap. “Want some water?”

“Sure,” Javy said, his voice closer this time, and by the time he made it to the kitchen, you had filled a glass and held it out to him. You wrapped the cinnamon rolls carefully, while Javy stayed in the doorway. 

When you glanced over your shoulder at him, he was looking around your small kitchen curiously. He looked at ease, like he almost always did, with the calm aura of assurance that was deeply grounding. It was something to see him like that, in your space.

He finished the water and walked the glass over to the sink, turning to lean his hips against it. You pushed the cinnamon rolls to a corner of the counter, crossing your arms in front of you self consciously as you became aware of the casualness of your dress. 

“Well,” you said, awkwardly, “thanks for checking on me. I am alive, so this has been a win for due diligence.”

Javy nodded slowly, his eyes still flitting around the kitchen, as the silence stretched. 

“What if it did?” he asked, and you tried to track what that could mean, but couldn’t place it.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, confused.

Javy shrugged, his posture casual, but you noticed his hands gripping the countertop behind him. 

“Mean something,” he said, before continuing as you shook your head, still confused. “My shirt. Our picture. What if…what if it meant something?”

The room felt like it’d been de-pressurized, like suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air and you couldn’t breathe. 

“What?” you managed again, your voice sounding like more of a squeak than your actual voice.

Javy didn’t move from the sink, merely lifting an eyebrow while he waited for you to process what he knew you understood he was asking. It made his forehead wrinkle, which was annoying, because he couldn’t be adorable while he was tilting your world off its axis. 

Your mouth felt dry and when you wet your lips, you felt Javy’s eyes dart down to watch your tongue as it slipped between your lips. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, your voice sounding shaky, even to your own ears, “it was really sweet having breakfast with your mom. And today was fun. And like, it was a good kiss, but it’s been like twelve hours of faking it, we can’t—”

You stopped talking when Javy pushed away from the sink, his long legs crossing the room quickly. The laid back air of earlier was gone, replaced by an intensity that seemed to crackle the air, and you backed up as he walked closer to you. Your back hit the opposite wall and you yelped quietly, but Javy didn’t stop until he was right in front of you. 

He didn’t touch you, and you could’ve moved, but you both knew you wouldn’t. 

Not when he leaned his forearms against the wall behind your head, his large body caging you, and all you could see, all you could focus on, was him. 

“First of all,” he said, and his voice sounded different up close, like it rumbled out of him, “it wasn’t just good, and you know it.”

You knew what he meant, and his eyes darkened when you nodded, after a beat.

“Second,” Javy continued, in that same voice, and you shivered, “we’re pilots, not actors. Twelve hours…if that was all it was, neither of us would feel like this.”

You shook your head, knowing that if you let yourself imagine, just for a moment, it was going to hurt all the more. 

“You said you had no plans to ask me out,” you whispered, aiming for a cavalier tone but coming up short. “That this was just the easiest lie.”

“I’d take it back if I could,” he said quickly, and you read the honesty in his eyes. “But, look, I was panicking. I’d been telling Momma about you for months and then she showed up and I had to say something before she told you how much I…before you got freaked out. I didn’t know you felt the same thing I did.”

You both desperately needed, and were terrified of, what he’d been going to say. 

“This is wild,” you mumbled, your mind reeling. “You can see that, right?”

Javy smiled, the inevitable, gorgeous smile of his, and he lifted his chin a little bit. “Kiss me again.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

And you knew it wouldn’t solve anything, wouldn’t explain any of it, would probably complicate things further, but if the tradeoff was clarity or Javy’s mouth over yours, you knew what you were choosing. Your fingers curled into the front of his henley, pulling him down to you, and then you could feel that smile against your lips as he kissed you. 

It was different when you weren’t two steps above him, when one of Javy’s hands fell from the wall to hold the side of your face as he kissed you. His lips were so soft, and of course he was teasing you with it, his mouth brushing over yours with light chastity until you pulled harder at his shirt and he pressed closer to you, his lips parting. At the first sweep of his tongue, your knees literally weakened and you swayed into him, your bodies coming flush together. Kissing him was dizzying, dreamy, and when you came up for air, you thought this might be your favorite sight—beautiful Javy, from this close. 

You reached up to wipe at his mouth, where some of your chapstick had smudged, and he turned to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Told you,” you whispered, “Galahad.”

He laughed softly, another sound that was different up close, warm and deep and you wanted to hear it again. Unfortunately, Javy cleared his throat, kissing your forehead before standing up straight. 

“I should get back to base,” he said, regretful but responsible. And he was right, of course, because you had drills in the morning, and whatever was between the two of you could wait another day. 

“Stay,” you blurted.

You almost took it back, embarrassed of how needy it had sounded, but when you looked up at Javy, he looked almost as hopeful as you felt. 

“Snuggles?” he asked, and you pressed your lips together at how freaking adorable it was, that this enormous man lit up like a kid on Christmas at the thought of something so innocent.

“If you want,” you hedged, and Javy gave you a look like it wasn’t even a choice for him, before he thought it through. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said gently, “but, hell, I want to.”

You shook your head determinedly. “We won’t do anything. I don’t want to rush it, and today’s been a lot to add that, too... but it’d be nice to be together, without the pretending.”

You couldn’t believe you were practically begging the man to stay and just cuddle, but also it was Javy Machado. You’d do a hell of a lot more than beg, if push came to shove. 

You could see him deliberating, and you decided you might as well throw in a final desperate bid. 

“And you can give me a ride to base in the morning,” you added, “so I don’t have to catch the bus.”

Javy chuckled, before nodding seriously. 

“Well, when you put it like that, it’s only practical,” he said. “The rational choice.”

“I’m a very rational person,” you said. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks to be a WSO.”

Javy blinked. “Do they—”

“They definitely don’t,” you laughed. “It’s off of rank, same as the rest of the Navy.”

He rolled his eyes, but followed you obediently deeper into the apartment. 

You showed him where extra toothbrushes and toiletries were in the bathroom, and offered his shirt back, which he adamantly refused. He ended up grabbing a nondescript Navy shirt from the pile, which you were pretty sure was Jake’s, but didn’t want to comment on, since it seemed deliberate that he hadn’t asked. 

Being in the same squadron, and being based in San Diego, there was a level of physical awareness that you two had passed months ago, so it was oddly anticlimactic to be sharing space as you brushed your teeth and got ready for bed. 

Which is why the nerves, as soon as you and Javy settled into your bed, surprised you.

It was dumb, because you knew you had nothing to be nervous over. You’d both already agreed nothing else was happening tonight, you should be tired enough to just be chill about this. But as soon as your back hit the mattress, it felt like someone had injected straight caffeine into your veins and you couldn’t lie still.

Javy’s arm was under your head and you’d turned slightly into him, but suddenly your feet needed to be out of the comforter. Or maybe you needed to lie on your other side. Or the top sheet felt weird on your skin, or you weren’t sure if—

“Cross,” Javy sounded like he was trying not to laugh, “I’m gonna leave if you don’t lie still.”

You winced at the ceiling, disengaging so you could put just a few inches between the two of you. You felt yourself relaxing, like some weird performance anxiety, after he’d been so excited to hold you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “it’s just—”

“A dream come true, I know,” he sighed, like it was a heavy burden to bear, and you swung halfheartedly in his direction. Your hand swatted at the comforter over his chest, and you could feel the bed shaking as Javy chuckled. 

“Unfamiliar,” you revised, “is what I was going to say.”

Javy hummed, and you both knew his answer was closer to the truth, but he was kind enough to drop it. 

You shifted slightly, settling more deeply into the bedding, trying to tell your body it was comfortable so it could just be still. But even with the distance, every inch of you seemed hyper aware of the fact that Javy freaking Machado was literally in your bed. You knew you’d made the right call earlier, that you didn’t want to rush this, and everything else rational…but you were only human, damnit, and you were too curious to drift off to sleep. 

You chanced a peek at Javy, at what little you could see of him in the dark of the room. 

He was on his back, facing the ceiling, his hands folded over the top of the comforter like it was a sitcom from the 60s. His eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling rhythmically with his deep breaths, perfectly at ease. Except…if what he’d said last night was true, he should’ve been as ill at ease as you were, sharing a bed with someone. 

“Can I ask you something?” you asked quietly.

“Ah, sure,” Javy said, still sounding amused. “Not like we’re sleeping till you’re tired out.” 

“Okay, well—” you huffed, but Javy lifted a hand from the comforter placatingly. 

“I kid,” he said. “Honestly, we should all be impressed that I’m staying PG and not slipping into a ‘well, I can think of an easy way to tire you out’ line of thought.”

Your mouth snapped shut; you hadn’t even considered that. 

Javy shifted and the comforter crinkled as he cleared his throat. “Okay, neither of us can think too hard about that; ask your question.”

You hesitated for a moment, kind of enjoying the comfortable silence of the room. You turned your body to follow your head, settling on your side with your arm between the pillow and your head, before you asked, “Why hasn’t there been anyone since the Academy?”

Javy didn’t freeze, didn’t pull in a deep breath or tense up, but you felt his surprise, all the same. “Sure you don’t want a happier bedtime story?” he asked, his voice carrying a kind of hesitation that was new to you. 

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want,” you hedged, meaning it. “I can think of another one.”

You watched his jaw tense, and then he shook his head, just once. “Is it crazy that I want to tell you?”

You weren’t sure, but you did know that it felt an awful lot like trust, and you wanted that more than you wanted to know the story. Javy was fiddling with the end of the comforter, and the motion reminded you of the straw wrapper at Harry’s so you reached for him.

His movement didn’t break, he just accepted your hand and enveloped it in his. He wove the fingers of one hand between yours, and with the other he traced along the tendons on the back of your hand.  

“There’ve been folks since Academy,” he said, slowly, like the conversation had to pick up steam. “Just no one I’ve introduced back to Momma. You know how it is, how you can always find someone for the night. I found it was…easier. To keep it that way. No expectations, no strings, just fun. No one gets hurt that way.”

His slow motion of his fingers over the back of your hand was soothing, tracing patterns an retracing them with another finger. 

“You got hurt before?” you asked softly, watching Javy’s nostrils flare slightly as he processed the question. 

“I hurt someone,” he said, quietly.

You doubted the distinction was mutually exclusive, but you stayed quiet as you waited for him to continue. 

“We met when I was at Annapolis and she was at St Johns. She was from up North, so she was like no one I’d met in Louisiana. On a law track, in a sorority, all that. And we were…serious.”

He paused, and you could tell he was trying to decide how much to tell you.

“Pick out a ring, serious?” you prompted.

The pause lingered, before Javy traced down the fourth finger on your hand, saying quietly. “Put a down payment on one, serious.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised you. 

You tried to envision a younger version of Javy, bright-eyed and fresh at the academy, planning his life out, with conviction. That part hadn’t changed, Javy’s calm assurance, and you could envision some paralegal from Connecticut being absolutely swept away by him. 

“I got my first post, in Norfolk,” Javy continued. “She got into Law School at William and Mary, and we had a little place in the middle. Painted the kitchen yellow, had a hell of a fight with the landlord over it. We had window boxes with flowers; we couldn’t keep anything alive in there, winters were too cold, but we tried every spring.” 

It sounded idyllic, how he described it, and you could hear a painful undercurrent of longing in his voice as he told you about it. Like even now, it hurt how perfect it’d been. 

“What happened?” you asked, gently.

You watched Javy’s profile shift as his nose scrunched up, in answer to that question. 

“I had an accident, one day, flying—I made it, my wingman too, but the plane was rubble.They called her to meet me at the hospital and I remember when they let her in to see me; she was so quiet. She’d been real worried, I guess, and seemed pretty upset…I thought she might’ve missed an important lecture, or something, I don’t know, but it was weird.”

You frowned, squeezing his hand. “Surely a lecture wasn’t more important than being there for you.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t have thought that,” he said, then laughed wryly. “No, that wasn’t what she was upset about. When they discharged me a couple days later, and I got back to the apartment it was half empty. I remember walking in, and she was sitting on the hearth, one last cardboard box by her feet.”

You squeezed his hand again, hating that you knew where the story was going. Didn’t everyone who shared your employer?

“Yeah,” Javy sighed. “Uh, and she was right, you know, it wasn’t fair. If I’d died that day, she would’ve been stranded in Virginia, and every time I went up in the air, she was going to have to wonder if this was the time I left her for good.”

A dozen responses flash through your head, but you bit your tongue, before answering carefully. 

“Flying isn’t something you do against someone,” you said evenly. “No one plans on burning in.” 

“I know,” Javy said, and you hated how his voice had taken on this detached quality, like this speech was one he’d given himself hundreds of times. “But it’s selfish to ask someone to love you with all that on the line, and ask her to carry that fear. I get it, it was too much, so…yeah. I get it.”

He hadn’t stopped tracing over your hand, and your heart broke for younger Javy. How he must’ve felt standing in that empty apartment, as the woman he’d planned the rest of his life with left because she was scared. How blindsided and guilty, and clearly holding that guilt years later, as he relayed that story to you. 

“Run that last bit by me again?” you asked.

Javy looked at you. “It’s selfish to ask someone to love you with all—”

“Yep, that part,” you interrupted. “One more time?”

You knew Javy knew what you were getting to, because he didn’t repeat himself again. 

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled.

“You know what I mean,” you retorted. “Not everyone can take what we do, and that’s fine. But that’s something you hash out on a third date, when you talk about career plans and make sure your lives line up. Not when you’ve dated through college, have a home together, and when you get a call from the hospital. That’s when you need support, not for someone to ask themselves a question they should’ve asked years ago. Like. I’m sorry, but that’s a shitty thing to do.”

The room was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d overstepped. Obviously you didn’t know the entire ins and outs of the relationship, but let’s face it, you were always going to take Javy’s defense against some WASPy lawyer. 

Or, as far as you knew, a wannabe lawyer. 

With her staying power, maybe she didn’t even pass the bar.

You let out a long breath, trying to release your animosity with it. 

“Thank you,” Javy said quietly.

And you were sure there was a lot you could’ve phrased better, maybe held your tongue on, but you didn’t. Instead, you told your restless body to get over itself and slid back across the bed, into Javy’s side. He kept his hold on your hand over the blankets, but you tucked yourself against his torso, more determined to be comforting than comfortable.

“You’re not selfish for asking someone to love you, Jay,” you said, your voice muffled by his tshirt. “And I think you deserve someone whom you don’t have to ask.” 

He didn’t say anything, but a moment later, you felt him shift, before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You felt the both of you settle, either lightened from the sharing of his past or from the relief of holding each other, and sleep came easily, this time around.

//

next chapter

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