#not sure this is the exact phrasing but y’all know the one I’m talking about

[philsmeatylegss]

Pretty sure schools started teaching about digital footprint after Dan posted “if they insist or to be polite, but I don’t like the taste.” Because that was a fucking crazy thing to say online under your own full name

[dottores]

okay well, i logged back in, obviously, because there are clearly some things that need to be addressed and have been taken out of context. just because i’m leaving doesn’t mean i should sit here and let my name be smeared. 

to preface this, anantaru and i had a discussion where we came to a congenial understanding of what happened, there's been an acknowledgment on both sides of misunderstanding and believing distorted rumors and people that we probably should not have, but i’m still going to give a full explanation as to the background of everything so you all can understand and come to your own opinions. plus, if there's going to be a call-out post directed majorly at me made, i want an official address of it.

please do NOT send any hate their way, we have ended this discussion on good terms and have worked out what exactly was stirring this discourse between us. (spoiler alert: there was a third-party shit-stirrer that we both considered a decent friend at the time!)

i don’t really need a reason to block someone, and i shouldn’t have to explain it, but i did and i will again but more explicitly this time: @/anantaru made a post that i did not like. it’s as simple as that. it was a post about genshin characters and sex icks and one of the lines were “venti: too drunk.” i’m not anti-dc, but there are topics that i am sensitive about because i was sa’d in my freshman year of college—that is something i have talked about on this blog before, many of you who've been around since my tr era are aware of it. i acknowledged, and tee acknowledged, that this was probably a joke and was not meant to be taken the way i took it, but the aloof/casual way it was mentioned without any TW of implied dubcon, and without acknowledging that it was at least dubcon and could border on noncon in certain interpretations made me uncomfortable. i don’t mind seeing it as long as i’m warned. if it was tagged properly, i would have moved on without much care, but it wasn’t, so i was scrolling through the post snorting and was hit with that and i was made uncomfortable because i didn't like how it was just being passed off as an ick, and i blocked. there was no reason for it to go beyond what it did, yet we are here. anantaru mentioned that if you frequent their blog, you would know that they often write about venti and reader being drunk—i don’t frequent their blog, in fact this was my first encounter with them being reblogged onto my dash by shared mutuals, so it rubbed me wrong. thats the end of it. 

i’m not sure the exact timing, but i believe it was two(?) weeks after this, when i reblogged an unpopular opinion’s post with an opinion that i thought was fairly harmless. sure, looking back on it i could have phrased it better, i’m not going to deny that, but pinpointing my one opinion out of the hundreds of others that were objectively far more controversial than mine and crucifying me for it is uncalled for. you guys know very well that i do not have the time or energy to sift through random people’s blogs to look for minors. every once in a while i glance at the notes of shit posts that happen to be on my dash and i’d be a bit startled at finding a minor in them because i still do think you should at least try to catch minors who interact with shit posts because that’s the easiest way to find them. but i was working at a medium sized firm for a year and a half at the time of the post and i am currently in law school, i do not have the time to be psychotic about people’s likes and interaction, and even if i did have the time?? i’ve always gotten incredible interaction from y’all lmfao, imposing the idea that i’m jealous is entirely inane. i do still stand by the fact that my words were twisted, i was made out, more than once and by more than one person after the next bullet point's events, to have been some psycho that stalks peoples’ posts for excuses as to why they get interaction when that is simply not the case. 

regardless, after this incident, anantaru made a vague post that was almost directly quoting my tags from the reblog and was thus sent to me because many shared mutuals put together that it was about my tags. this was upsetting for multiple reasons 1) i had blocked anantaru by this point so i felt a bit violated that i was being vagued for something by someone that i blocked. 2) i started getting hate anons en masse after it, some of which were very unnecessarily explicit. needless to say, i was very upset and made a subpost on my main account after noticing i’ve been blocked on ao3 because 1) i was already upset and i didn’t even know why anantaru seemed to have it out for me much less go to the point of blocking on ao3 which leads into my next point and 2) i thought it was a bit ridiculous because the only thing blocking on ao3 stops is people from commenting on posts and i clearly was not going to comment on a post of someone who i was not on good terms with. reasoning aside, anantaru can block who they want and i was out of line for making comments about that in particular. i’ll admit that, and apologize for it. 

a screenshot was taken from my personal—not a good moment for me, obviously, but anantaru claimed in their post that it was about them with no evidence. i dmed them about this in particular because i was genuinely confused, we spoke about it, i offered them proof that it was not them because i had a discussion about this post with a close friend at the time of posting it and they believed me. i will attach screenshots below (cropped because there's no reason to attach the whole conversation) because i feel as if this accusation was rather extreme and i wish it would’ve been removed because it was obviously not my best moment. an explanation for the post itself, i was upset over plagiarism accusations regarding something i put my heart and soul into and then seeing the same person that made them consistently on my dash just straight up triggered me, for lack of a better word lol, so i made a vent on my personal. how it got misconstrued as to be anything about anantaru is baffling to me but i suppose that's a question for the subject of our next bullet point. i don’t want to go into detail about the accusations in themselves because i don’t want people to send the actual person who it’s about hate. regardless, that post was not about anantaru, i have never called them a cunt nor have i ever called them a gatekeepy cunt, though i’m beginning to think i should probably remove the word from my vocabulary atp, i use it far too flippantly. anyway, i do not know them well enough to formulate any sort of opinion like that. aside from that, in our discussion we came to an understanding over it and i wish that would have been cleared on their blog as wel. so i'll attach here (i crossed some out because i don't want to breach any boundaries regarding what anantaru might be comfortable sharing but i do think it's fair for me to want this particular point fully cleared as it was a bold accusation remaining up):

5. in our discussion, we came to realize that we have/had a shared mutual who was fostering discourse between the two of us. many of you will recognize her as audri aka alucrds, who has supposedly left tumblr by this point—i suspected this and anantaru has confirmed it while we were talking. audri was sending anantaru my posts claiming that they were about anantaru, but i will stress that the only actual discussions i ever had with anyone about anantaru was with tee and eris about that initial joke because it had upset me at the time, it never extended beyond that and it certainly was never with audri. my only conversation with audri that mentioned anantaru at all was probably around a week or so after i made the post in point 3, when audri asked me about ao3 blocking in casual conversation and i offhandedly mentioned that anantaru had blocked me on there—audri was a close friend at that point and iirc, she had actually told me right after that that anantaru had her blocked on tumblr, i had no idea that they'd been mutuals at all but either way, it was an offhanded comment that led to nowhere (or so i thought LOL). looking back on it, it was clearly her baiting me into giving her information about the post i made a week or so prior because after talking with anantaru, they explained that they got an anonymous message claiming that i was shit talking them for blocking them on ao3 and the only person that could have put together that the vent post from point 3 was about anantaru was audri herself. audri continued to evidently cherry-pick random vent posts of mine to show anantaru and claim that they were about them. why? i wish i could tell you. i considered audri a decent enough friend, and though she had her fair share of issues with mutuals and other friends of mine, i never really thought she’d stoop to this with me. but i guess there’s really no explaining people who thrive in discourse.

6. my comment in my most recent post about being harassed on ao3 and in comments and in asks was not about them at all. i thought it was very clearly about heliotropes (my dottore series) and pressure to update from certain readers, but i'm clarifying that now.

7. i never intended on directly addressing this, which is why i did not directly name anantaru in my post, if i’d known at the time that tee was going to end up addressing all of this, i would’ve just been straight up with all of it.

anyway, i think that’s all, hopefully this will be the last post for real as i am tired mentally and now i am also physically sleep deprived. i've been up since three so forgive me for typos and grammar errors. this all has gone on for over a year. sorry for all the discourse on y'all's dash, wish i could have left with a bit more grace than this. rumors have been blown out of proportions and blindly believed, things have been taken out of context, such is life. i made my fair share of mistakes on my personal blog with my vents, others have admitted and owned up to their own mistakes, some will never admit to their mistakes. such is life. it moves on, always does. i know all of y'all are smart enough to come to your own opinions.

over and out, sorry again, and logged out (hopefully for real this time),

cat

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

[heyitssmiller]

Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

.

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it. 

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work? 

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

.

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

[chalkrevelations]

So, Episode 7 of Word of Honor, and where to start? No, I’m kidding, I know exactly where I’m starting, which is with some recognition of what a great job this show does of developing 98 percent of its multitude of characters, because the first two things I’m going talk about this week aren’t even Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing OR Wen Kexing’s thirst (AKA, the three main characters of the show).

Well, I guess I’m really starting with the usual warning – this is a re-watch and so there are SPOILERS here, not only for this episode, but for most of the show. Scroll away and come back later if you’re trying to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

SO, I mean, come on. Of course I’m starting with the Smartest Man in the World, who has finally shown up in this episode, and I’m reminded once again what an actual cinnamon roll, too good for this world, Cao Weining is. He’s maybe the single completely good character we meet  – even Chengling wants to burn down somebody’s house at one point because he’s mad. But Cao Weining is almost too good to be true – and yet, there he is! Living his best life, being good, eating good, falling in love, and refusing to let his beautiful, clever, fierce girl’s neuroses come between them. I love him, y’all. And not just because he instantly falls in love with A-Xiang when he happens to see her beat up a bunch of drunk bro assholes in the inn where he’s having a quiet little lunch by himself before she storms into his life like a purple whirlwind. But let’s do think about this from his perspective, yeah? And let’s remember it as we watch the progression of their relationship, as we wait for the revelation we know is coming, and as – many eps down the line – he learns the truth of her. Cao Weining’s first experience of A-Xiang is someone who’s brave and capable, who defies outsized odds to come to the rescue of those in need, who doesn’t allow women and girls to be abused, who expects proper behavior from the representatives of the jianghu, and who is absolutely fearless in demanding just treatment and never even thinks to be intimidated when she faces unfair censure from an authority figure. This is the girl WKX raised, y’all. This is a girl who embodies everything Cao Weining has been taught to believe in as a cultivator. And this is the girl Cao Weining sees every time he looks at A-Xiang. Maybe, just maybe, this is the truth of her, and Cao-dage sees and understands it from the very first time he spots her, and anything else he’ll learn about her is really extraneous. (Hmm. I wonder what other relationship we’ll eventually end up seeing that kind of dynamic in, where someone truly knows you and believes in you, so everything else is unimportant?) Also, Cao Weining tells A-Xiang she’s very beautiful, and how many people do you think have ever told her that before in her life? He asks why he would want to fight and hurt her, and how many people – particularly men, given where she grew up – have ever told her that before? He buys her lunch – twice, because the first round gets cold. Remember a few episodes back, when WKX asked her who the second cutest person in the world was, and she responded that it was someone who would buy her a meal? Well, here he is. For bonus points, it is hilarious how badly WKX responds to Cao Weining’s very existence after ZZS points out the pair of them having a toast at the same inn that WKX and ZZS have stopped in WKX has dogged ZZS’s footsteps into. Poor Cao Weining doesn’t even get the shovel talk – although to be fair, he doesn’t get the full-court Ghost Valley Master press, either, so WKX must have been holding back somewhat – he just gets told to get out, before WKX grabs A-Xiang by the ear and delivers some scathing commentary on her taste in men, like he didn’t immediately fall for some rando who was tits out, drinking himself to death in the gutter.

ANYWAY, from the Smartest Man in the World, we’re going to move to Han Ying, My Beloved, who we see interacting with the Five Lakes Alliance again, this time in the person of Gao Chong, leader of Yueyang Sect and host of the upcoming Heroes Conference, da-ge of the 5LA. I had honestly forgotten we got to see so much of Han Ying this early on. What strikes me here is that this is a guy who I actually could believe is the second-in-command of Tian Chuang at what is it? 21 years old? When he’s doing his job, and ZZS is nowhere around for him to make pining puppy-dog eyes at, he’s focused and determined and a bit forceful and somewhat threatening and, frankly, appropriately arrogant for the job he’s been sent to do. He’s also wearing a cloak with a mini-Collar of Evil. He comes off as, dare I say, a capable leader of an assassin organization and a guy who’s able to do a proxy flex for his boss without looking completely ridiculous - which puts him one up on Duang Pengju, omg that asshole, and also makes me feel a little better about how I want ZZS to wreck him (or I guess, technically, him to wreck ZZS, because I’ve never seen a character (except Marcus Flavius Aquila, THANK YOU for your service, Channing Tatum) who put off such subby service-top vibes. WHY is there not more Han Ying/ZZS on AO3, fandom? I thought better … worse? … better? … of you.) When Gao Chong claims the Glazed Armor is a myth, Han Ying basically calls this older, respected zongzhu a liar and gets up in his face before refusing a dinner invitation and sweeping out in his mini-Collar of Evil with a credible “PAH.” My boy has layers, y’all.

What else? We start out the ep at Luo Mansion, a wedding scene, and I’m struck by how the Ghost Valley colors match traditional wedding colors, here. I’m thinking about how A-Xiang’s wedding dress won’t be red (and I think green was more common during the Tang dynasty?) although all the decorations will be, and I’m thinking about how we have this wedding as a book-end to that wedding, and I’m thinking about how it’s interesting that a girl who was raised in the Ghost Valley and protected by the Department of the Unfaithful meets a man who’s going to be so faithful to her in the same episode as this wedding with/of the dead. Ghoul, who’s one of the attendees from the Ghost Valley, also remarks that the red makes him hungry, so there’s a meat reference to throw into the thematic basket, I guess. (Also, hey. Ghoul is played by the same guy who’s Sun Yongren in Killer & Healer.) Lovelace (ugh) briefly menaces one of the Department handmaidens before Luo Fumeng shows up, and I think she’s Yun Zai or Hong Lu, one of the two maids that A-Xiang rescued from him, although I’m not positive, because her hairstyle is so different and hides a lot of her face, here. So, we’re all attending the “wedding” of Mu Yunge, the apparent fuckboy who got got a couple of episodes ago as bait for Ao Laizi when Changing Ghost got his hands (briefly) on the Danyang Glazed Armor. We did see a brief scene with Yunge in the last ep, when he woke up tied up in bed, being menaced by someone who appeared to be his dead lover – who hanged herself while pregnant with their child – but turned out to be Beauty Ghost using a face-masking technique similar to ZZS’s disguises. In the interim, Ghost Valley has kidnapped 10 cultivators as his wedding party, and – this is the important plot point – that includes Deng Kuan, head disciple of Yueyang Sect. We get to see some of Beauty Ghost’s ruthlessness here, as she carries in the dead woman’s memorial tablet draped in a red cloth – how’s that for some foreshadowing (my f’kn HEART) – to set it down in the “bride’s” place before Yunge is forced to bow three times. (Dead girlfriend was a Mo from Broken Arrow Manor, and I … am not sure if that is significant or not. Is she possibly related to Mo Huaiyang? Does anyone know which sect is associated with Broken Arrow Manor?) Beauty Ghost also kills two of the 10 “guest” cultivators for talking without permission as she explains the next event to them – cage match. Only one of them gets to get out alive. Deng Kuan, the best of them, apparently, pleads with everyone to not let themselves be divided, but we can all guess how this is going to go. I guess maybe he’s the other completely good character we meet, but he sure is a punching bag. He ends up the last man, sort of, standing, as he kills the final other person in self-defense, but not before getting stabbed, and he goes down and is out for the count.

Meanwhile, cut to Zhao Jing and Shen Shen drinking and gossiping at an inn on the way to Yueyang. Shenshen – Shenshen – continues to bemoan Chengling’s uselessness, and also talks about the torture the other Zhang family members underwent just in time for Chengling to overhear in the hallway, so thanks a lot for even more trauma, Shenshen. Zhao Jing is so sad about it all, y’all. He’s just so very very sad, can we just stop talking about it, Shenshen, because you’re making him sad, and he’s just going to let Da-ge figure it all out, OK? Uh-huh.

Fourth plot thread of the episode is ZZS skulking around, following Chengling, trying to convince himself that this kid is safe now that he’s turned himself in to gone to live with the 5LA, even as ZZS spots Tian Chuang spies in the ranks of the Yueyang disciples and among the dumpling vendors on the streets outside. ZZS follows the dumpling vendor, gives him a code phrase and almost gets his head taken off by a Scorpion blade for his trouble, before stabbing Dumpling Man in response. WKX picks this exact moment to wander back into ZZS’s orbit, taking the chance to flirt as Dumpling Man spits up blood and dies in the alleyway, because of course he does. WKX tsks, accuses ZZS of being cruel, and quotes some poetry about fair faces and poisonous hearts, which - like all of his poetry - has a double meaning, because which of them is he really talking about, ZZS or himself? ZZS notes that WKX is openly wearing the (Danyang) Glazed Armor because of course he’s looking for trouble, but WKX loosens his stays and clutches his pearls and replies that he couldn’t possibly be looking for trouble – him? Philanthropist Wen? He’s not a merciless killer like ZZS. Whereupon ZZS finally says out loud what he’s been clearly thinking since he started going on about what an awful person he is in the LAST EPISODE, which is why the hell don’t you stop following me around, then? There’s some more flirting, and WKX continues to follow ZZS around, and ZZS takes note that WKX is obviously flaunting the Glazed Armor out in the open, and then there’s a little sleight of hand when Famous Pickpocket Fan Bu Zhi, oh noes! Steals WKX’s Glazed Armor right off his belt when he isn’t even looking! before WKX continues to follow ZZS around, conveniently into the same inn where Cao Weining and A-Xiang are having lunch. After WKX attempts to chase him away, we discover Cao Weining has had his wallet stolen. WKX deploys his Sadness Eyebrows to convince ZZS to turn over his wallet to pay for Cao Weining’s and A-Xiang’s lunch. ZZS – who does an admirable job of refusing for a bit – finally caves, and WKX orders lunch for everyone, on ZZS. Now all we need is Chengling, because the fam is not complete without Goldbean.

[desiraypark]

A Busy Holiday

This was supposed to follow a prompt, but per usual, I deviated lol. Characters: Chris McKay x Black Female Reader / Also: parents, grandparents, siblings, and best friends. (Note: I gave you the last name “Davis”) Content: Fluff; a little angst?; worry; overthinking; couple issues.  Word Count: 1,659

McKay had been acting strange all week. He’d been avoiding you—responding to texts with single phrases or short sentences; not answering phone calls at all. The two of you were supposed to hang out during the holidays, and you’d spend Christmas Eve with your family, and Christmas Day with his. You wanted to go over your plans, but he just did not seem invested. Sure, he worked at a real estate agency, but surely people weren’t buying houses during the holidays? Or, maybe you were just an idiot who knew nothing about real estate...

Sigh...your parents always warned you about your tendency to jump to conclusions about everything, so you kept your cool. But now, it was two days before Christmas Eve, and you needed to know what was up. So, you called him, and finally, he answered.

“Hey, baby…” he said with a tired voice. “McKay? What the fuck is up?!” “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve been super busy.” “Me too, McKay, but I still make time to call. We’re supposed to be spending Christmas break together. Is that still happening, or no?” “Yes, it’s still happening. We agreed to do what we did last year, right? Christmas Eve with your people, then Christmas Day with mine, then just you and me at the Ramada, right?” “Yeah, but—” “I booked the Ramada in October, remember?” he pressed. You got agitated. “Yes, but McKay, just because we’re an hour away from each other it doesn’t mean we can’t still communicate. These short conversations have me thinking that you’re up to something.” “Up to something like…working? Spending time with my family and friends? Registering for next semester? Not everybody gets to just chill on their breaks...” He had a point with that last statement, but you chose to bypass it. “Am I not family or friends, McKay?” You heard him sigh. “Look, baby. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you Christmas Eve. Early in the morning. Okay?” You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Okay.”

Christmas Eve

McKay texted you the night before, saying that he would be over at ten. Of course, you sent him a dry “K.” in response. But who were you fooling? You got up the next morning, spent an eternity in the shower, slathering soap and body scrub all over your skin and shaving non-existent hair from your legs—just in case. You rubbed coconut oil into your skin, sprayed your Versace crystal on your neck, applied a little face makeup, and slid on some popping red lipstick. Maybe you were tripping…but you were going to make sure McKay got a GOOD look at what he’d been missing out on the last three weeks. 

The doorbell rang at exactly 10:00AM and your dad answered it. “What’s up, Chris?” your dad’s voice boomed throughout the house. “How you doin’, Mr. Davis?” McKay said. You heard the slapping of skin in a dap. Then, the front door closed. You gave yourself another look in the mirror—lifting your boobs in your red T-shirt, rubbing your hands along your thighs, and fluffing out your white cardigan. “I’m doin’, I’m doin’,” your father responded. “She’s in her room.” You yanked your phone off your dresser and jumped onto the bed. Then, you leaned over on your side and thumbed through the phone, pretending to be unmoved by McKay’s impending presence. He walked in with fresh braids, wearing his usual blue hoodie, some jeans, and his blue and white Jordan 11s. In his hands were a bouquet of red roses. “May I come in?” he asked jokingly. You looked up from your phone with an unimpressed look. “Sure.” He shook his head, chuckled to himself, and put the roses on your dresser. Then, he leaned over the bed and gave you a kiss on the lips. You almost fainted at the smell of cologne. “You tryna act like you ain’t happy to see me?” he asked, sitting beside you. You put down your phone and lifted your body to rest against your pillows. “I usually don’t get excited about seeing strangers,” you responded. He rolled his eyes and lean back. “Maaan, come on. Cut that shit out!” he laughed. You buried your face into your knees and laughed, but he wiggled his finger under your chin and tilted your head up. Then, he kissed your lips again.    “I’m sorry, baby. But I promise you, things have just really been busy,” he said. He lowered his head and rubbed your sheets. “And…I guess I have to be honest with you.” “Please do.” “I’ve had some shit going on mentally,” he admitted. Your heart sank. You really could be an asshole. You took his hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry, baby…” “No, don’t be sorry. Nothing bad, for the most part. I’ve just really been in my head about some things...” “But you know you can talk to me about it, right?” you asked. He stared into your eyes and smiled. “Yeah, I know.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, but just as his lips were inches away from yours… “Hey, McKay!” your mother’s voice screeched. You both looked up to see her in the doorway with an ugly Christmas sweater and reindeer ears on. You scoffed and buried your face in your knees again. “Mama, what are you wearing?” “Hey, Mrs. Davis!” “Hey, McKay baby. And what do you mean what am I wearing? It’s Christmas Eve!”

You and McKay started the day with some window shopping. You’d both completed your shopping, but it wouldn’t hurt to see what was left on the shelves. Next, you went on a double date with your best friend, Mariah, and her boyfriend, Johari—first some lunch at Panera Bread, then the movies. After that, you hung out at Johari’s apartment, playing board games. McKay insisted on playing Monopoly, the longest damned game in the world; then the two of you had to dash home for dinner with your family. You came home to smooth Christmas jazz playing from the radio, dim lights and candles—very different from the usual festive setup, where The Temptations would be blasting and every single light in the house would be on—with the blinds and curtains opened, too--much to your chagrin.  Both sets of your grandparents were in the living room, and you gave all four of them big hugs, as did McKay. “Babe, I’m going to go change out of this hoodie really quick,” McKay said. “Alright.” McKay returned to the living room in a crisp white Polo, but you noticed he’d changed into Khakis and dress shoes, too—the Polo shirt tucked in like he was going on a job interview. You raised an eyebrow, but figured he just wanted to be respectful. You hung out in the living room with your grandparents, and when the table was set, everyone made their way to the kitchen. Plates were already made with Dad’s famous ribeye steaks, mom’s crab cakes, and green beans. A tray of potatoes—sat in the center of the table with a bowl of sour cream beside it, a stick of butter, and the salt and pepper shakers. “McKay, would you like to say grace?” your dad suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, because since when? “Um, sure Mr. Davis,” McKay agreed. Everyone bowed their heads. “Dear God, thank you for this day, and thank you for this dinner prepared by family…” Suddenly, the back door opened. You opened one eye to see McKay’s parents and brothers crept into the kitchen. You swung your head up and looked around at everyone and their still-bowed heads. “God, I especially thank you for allowing the Davis family to welcome me with opened arms. And today…” McKay removed his hand from yours, and suddenly, everyone’s head lifted. McKay stepped back and started digging in his pockets. Your hands flew to your mouth. “…I hope you’ll allow me to talk out of their home, with their daughter as my fiancée,” he said, pulling out a tiny box and falling to one knee. You stood frozen with your hands to your mouth and eyes wide. Then, tears started to stream down your face. “I can’t stand you McKay,” you blubbered. “I know,” he laughed. “Y/N Davis, will you marry me?” he opened the box and revealed gold band with a sparkling sapphire jewel in the middle—the exact kind of ring you told him you’d like when you were just two project partners for your Cultural Studies course—discussing marriages and weddings around the world. You shook your head in disbelief and wept. “Of course, I will, McKay. You know I will!” McKay took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger, and your family—current and future—clapped and cheered. McKay rose to his feet, pulled you in his arms and kissed you on the lips. You rested your chin over his shoulders and spotted Mariah and Johari in the doorway. You let out a scream and a hearty laugh. “I hate y’all!” you shouted. They laughed and walked over to you and surrounded you both in hugs. “Is that why you had me in there playing some damned Monopoly?!” Everyone burst into laughter, and hugs and kisses went around.

During dinner, McKay informed you that he didn’t book the Ramada—but a weekend at a beach house through Noirbnb. You packed some lounging clothes, beach wear, and other necessities, hopped in the car with McKay, and the two of you made your way there. Of course, he teased you about your bratty attitude—and promised some punishment for it later—but the both of you promised to be better at communicating and understanding each other. You arrived at the beach house, owned by a lovely middle-aged couple, and made yourself comfortable. You were too full and tired to do what you both really wanted to do, so instead, the two of you wrapped yourselves in a blanket and sat on the beach, talking beneath the crescent moon, and before an endless ocean.

[unsaidmar]

WC: 2.5k (long winded girl, I know)

Plot: They share stuff and it changes how they see things. Connection ensues. 

CW: Mentions of death, illness, hospitals I guess, violence.

a/n: Hello y’all. This is part two of whatever the fuck is going on inside my pea brain. Hope you enjoy.

Part one, the meeting. 

Two; It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.

She laughed at the awkwardness of the text and the perfect grammar Dr. Spencer Reid maintained while texting. Ollie made a mental note to care a little more about the phrasing of her own texts, especially considering the circumstances. To say she wanted to impress him was an understatement.

“Good, germs are yucky.” Sent at 7:45 am.

“Also, hi. Good morning” Sent at 7:45 am.

Good morning? Too much too soon? She fell victim to her overthinking for at least twenty minutes after sending her last text, realizing she had to slowly build up the courage to ask about the next time they would be seeing each other, which apparently would have to wait, since Spencer had an inconvenient schedule and could be out of the state in a matter of 20 minutes.  Ollie exhaled and stood up from her awful office chair to go and make herself some coffee, hoping to stop her mind from reeling and sending her into her usual never-ending pit of despair and anxiety that came with stepping out of her comfort zone.

A ping echoed in the room and her screen lit up, displaying a text from the one person she had been thinking about. Ollies mother would be crying laughing if she saw the state she was in, positively losing hair over the fact that a cute, smart, witty man was texting her back. A man she had spoken to for the first time not even 24 hours prior.

“I’m a nice person, I’m funny sometimes, I offered him coffee.” She whispered to herself, rationalizing every aspect of their interaction. “That’s how friendships start” She laughed bitterly. “I’m here… freaking… wishful thinking, and maybe he has a significant other… maybe he doesn’t even like women… maybe he just thought I was nice and he thought ‘yay, a new friend’… fuck” she plopped herself back on the chair and threw her head back.

Lia would have known what the right thing to do is, she would come up with a cool thing to text back on the spot, and she resented her absence like she had a million times before. Ollie had gotten used to writing her letters like her best friend was living somewhere else in the world and she would eventually read her friend’s attempt at keeping her updated, which she knew was not healthy and definitely not helping her move on.

The thing is, Lia’s death was not a surprise at all. It was a possibility to the point of actually being expected. She had been diagnosed as a terminal patient for a little over a year before she passed and almost everyone around her had made peace with the fact that she could go any day and that life would have to go on without her, but no amount of grief counseling and encouraging talks with Lia’s family could have prepared her for the unimaginable pain Ollie felt when it happened. She had heard about experiences that made the world turn upside down and how some life events made you go numb and make your legs give weight, but had never come face to face with a happenstance that painful.

She figured she was going to have to carry the burden of her loss till the day she died, and even then, the words “I missed you, till the very end.” would be carved in her grave.

Coming back from her spiral, she remembered how she fell down the rabbit hole in the first place. She took her phone with the intention of texting Spencer back and smiled at how stupid she had been to worry about seeing him again.

“Hey, arrest made successfully. Are you busy right now?” Sent at 7:57 am.

Sighing with relief, Ollie smiled and tried to sound casual with her reply as to not sound like seeing him again was the only thing she had been thinking about.

“I’m the boss, I can un-busy myself. Why? Were you charmed by my Keurig?” Sent at 8:00 am.

Spencer was not the kind to send sassy texts, or any text for that matter. This was completely new to him and he was determined to get it right, so he channeled the Derek Morgan that lived within him and prayed to whatever deity was looking out for him to make him sound cooler than he was feeling.

“I’m a sucker for coffee so, yes.” Sent at 8:05

 “I’m a sucker for you, apparently” Ollie nearly screamed at how quickly that came out of her mouth. “Fucking loser, dear God” She shook her head, scolding herself and whatever hamster was in charge of her brain and thought process.

“Mi oficina es tu oficina, then. I’ll be waiting.” Sent at 8:07

Twenty minutes later, he was there, coffee cup in his hands. After what felt like no time at all, they were four coffee cups deep into their conversation and had learned a lot more about each other. Turns out Spencer had a day off after they landed from an away case, he had a thing with germs, his favorite color was purple and his co-workers were more his family than just the people he happened to work with. He liked a bunch of sugar with his coffee and had an eidetic memory that was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

He was impressed at how this girl was not what you would expect her to be, every aspect of her seemed to make no sense and at the same time, it made perfect sense. This purple haired girl had ADHD and a PhD in history, she was the oldest daughter of two of the most stubborn Mexican immigrants and had a sister that made even the most patient of humans go mad. She loved music, and was not ashamed to admit that her taste in music was far from sophisticated. “I am Taylor Swift’s bitch; I know the words to every single one of her songs! Same goes for One Direction too” She argued when Spencer said that it couldn’t be that bad.

A blaring ring halted their conversation to an unexpected stop. Ollie picked up the office phone with an annoyed grimace and exchanged a few words with whoever was calling.

“Hold that thought, I have to go sign a thingy at the front desk” She dashed out of her office and left Spencer there.

For the first time, he felt compelled to look around and fixate on the details. There were a few old looking pictures and some newer ones with people who looked a lot like her. There was one picture that caught his attention, isolated from the rest like it deserved a spot of its own. In it, there was a red-haired girl that looked around Ollie’s age, one of her arms around her waist and the other one cradling her head that was laying on her shoulder. Ollie’s eyes were closed and the red head looked like she was caught mid-sentence. Stuck to the frame was a little post it note that read “I love you, head ass. -Lia” It looked intimate, they were clearly comfortable with that kind of physical affection, and if Lia hadn’t called Ollie a head ass in the post it, he would have assumed they were together romantically.

Ollie came back in a hurry, apologizing for having to run out like that and sitting back down to resume their conversation.

“It’s okay, don’t worry” Spencer assured her. “I was looking at your pictures, I hope you don’t mind” He said, suddenly very aware of how invasive that could be.

“Not at all, those are there to be looked at” She shrugged, bracing herself for the question she knew was coming. Somehow, talking about Lia with him did not feel as dreadful as it had all those times she was asked about it before, perhaps it’s just him and his calming presence.

Sure enough, he pointed at the picture Lia had framed for valentine’s day and asked, “Who’s that?”.

“That’s Lia, she was my best friend. She is my best friend.” She smiled fondly, something that had never happened before when talking about this specific topic. Maybe sharing Lia’s memory with someone who didn’t know her was different. “She passed away almost a year and a half ago. 468 days ago, to be exact. She was really sick, it was inevitable” Ollie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, reaching for the post it and tracing the words over with her finger.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been”

“It was… heartbreaking. Even with all that time we had to process the news, it still took me off guard.” She shook her head trying to ground herself. “Anyways, that’s a sad topic. I don’t want to bum you out with it.”

He knew the feeling all too well, he had apologized to several people when he rambled about Maeve, feeling like he had said too much and gotten too personal. He was not about to let this beautiful, vibrant soul feel the way he had for so long. Like he still did, truly.

“Don’t apologize, I get it. You’re not making me sad” He felt like he needed to elaborate to actually convey the message. “I went through the same thing with someone I loved too” he said, looking down at his hands, the very familiar feeling of oversharing creeping in. As he looked up, he noticed the sad look Ollie was giving him, but if the profiler in him was right, she was inviting him to share, not to stop.

“Her name was Maeve. She… she was a geneticist. She helped me through a rough time and she became my friend. It’s a long story…” he looked away.

“I want to hear it, long or not. But only if you want me to.” She gave him the warmest smile she could muster, which convinced him to keep going.

“Um, I started getting some headaches a while ago. I went to a few doctors but none of them gave me an answer. I reached out to Maeve for help and… We bonded, I guess.” He took a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to continue if you feel uncomfortable” she whispered in the most delicate tone.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never told this story before. Everyone in my life that I care about was there to see it.” He said, meeting her eyes so she could see how honest he was being. The man got a hold of himself for a minute, and continued.

“Maeve had to go into hiding. She was being stalked by some woman she met at work. Beyond talking on the phone, we hadn’t even met. I had no idea what she looked like and vice versa. This girl, the stalker… She wrote a paper, and Maeve dismissed it because it didn’t have a good enough foundation. When she started stalking her, she scared her into hiding and eventually started dating her ex-fiancé to try and get closer to Maeve, assuming he knew where she was. They ended up finding her and confronting her. She shot herself and the first person I ever loved. Right in front of me and my friends. The first five minutes I got with Maeve face to face, were the last.”

Baring his soul to a person he had known for a whooping 18 hours was the weirdest thing Spencer had ever done, so unlike himself it was almost funny. But at the same time, he felt like it had to happen. By no means did he believe in fate or destiny, but this one moment made him feel like maybe whoever does believe in that stuff, is not completely wrong.

She was not a therapist. She listened because she was going through a similar thing herself and her interest in Spencer’s loss was not rooted in psychoanalyzing him and helping him cope. She was just a mundane human that did not look at him with condescension and pity, she looked at him like she, too, had found a person who wouldn’t ask her “And, how does that make you feel?” in a monotonous voice. They both knew better than to assume they had all the answers.

“Spencer, that’s horrible. I am so sorry you had to see that. Jesus, fuck. I- “She thought about her next words very carefully. “That’s enough to crush anyone’s spirit” She looked at him like he was turning green. The reason being, he did not look like he was crushed. He had a beautiful smile that shook Ollie to her core, he was easygoing and conversation with him was carefree and it flowed easily. If he had not told her about Maeve, she would not have guessed the man sitting right in front of her was as affected as her.

“How did you manage to get through that?” Ollie questioned, fully intending to take notes.

“I don’t really think I have yet…” Well, time to come clean. Spencer thought. “The whole reason I was here yesterday, and a lot more times before that one, is because she and I talked about this museum. She told me about some conferences she had attended here and we made plans to visit together. Doesn’t quite sound like someone who’s over the whole thing.” He fiddled with his fingers, suddenly too aware of how cold it was. “How did you get through Lia’s death?”

“Yeah, well. I don’t really think I’m quite there either. Not like I’m trying, anyways. I can’t seem to get away from the Grey Roots either” Mental images of two little kids running around with dusty books in their hands came to her and she couldn’t help the small smile she broke into.

“I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, I have always thought that the way Lia and I found each other was pure magic. We met when we were in the second grade, right in this museum, we were on a field trip and we clicked. It was crazy to me that I actually met my best friend at such a young age, and the kind that lasts forever too. It sounds like when people meet the love of their lives on their first try. It sounds dorky, I know”

“It doesn’t. If anything, it sounds like you consider yourself lucky to have loved her like you did. We need more people like that, people that believe in magic.” Spencer reassured her with a shrug. He wished he could believe in cute stuff like that, but he was happy Ollie led a life that made her believe.

“Yeah, but us crazy people, we get our hopes up too easily. Sometimes it hurts.”

“Tell me about it.”

And just like that, in the not so well-lit office of the head Conservator of the Grey Roots Museum and Archive, something in the world had shifted.

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 12: Cahoots

Y’know I say I’m nothing but mean to these poor folks but y’all put some really cute ideas in my head that fell really in-line with what I’m trying to do so here you go. Y’all can have One chapter where nice things happen, as a treat.

CW: slavery, aftermath of abuse, disassociation, multiple whumpees

Tag list:  @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave  @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @constellationwhump @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 @adventuresofacreesty @arlennil @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @lumpofwhump @thatsthewhump @pinkdiamondprince @shameless-whumper  @whump-only @infested-with-bloodv2 @kiretto-laorentze

Masterlist

Evan was such a whiny little baby. Lilah was combing her hair and rolling her eyes, listening to the back and forth between Nyla and Evan. Master had told all of them how Evan’s pain meds were supposed to work, and how he was allowed to take less but not more than the recommended dose (and then he’d gone on a tangent about how this rule absolutely did not apply to other medications, like antibiotics, and they should always make sure to take the exact instructions on those, like the five of them hadn’t received any formal training on anything important)(It was… charming, in a sense). Nyla had, of course, taken it to mean she was in charge of getting Evan’s stuff straightened out for him, and Evan took that as his cue to be difficult.

“They make me act weird!” he protested for the millionth time.

“Evan, just take one.”

“I’m fine. I’m confined to ‘taking it easy,’ remember? I’ll just sit in the sunroom and not move and it won’t even hurt.”

“It will hurt, and should you really be going upstairs if you’re not going to work? Master will see you.”

“Nyla, I love you so much, but I will go totally nuts if I stay locked up in this room for weeks, now let me--” he cut off trying to get out of bed, but Nyla pinned him down with the hand not carrying the water glass, Evan restricted in his movements and wincing all the while.

Lilah set the comb down, tugged a finger under her collar (it was getting tight again, asking Master to loosen it could be… added to the list of her ideas), and then went over to the bed, where Evan was begrudgingly sitting back under Nyla’s hand, his brows knit together and his hair still down.

“Move,” she ordered, shoving Evan in the chest so he was forced back down onto his back, and then she promptly sat down on his chest, earning a wheeze out of him.

“Hey!”

“Hi.”

“Lilah, I’m an injured man, here.”

“You were stabbed in the leg, doofus, your chest is fine.”

“Not with you crushing it.”

“Really? It sounds like you’re in pain, then.” Lilah propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee, staring down at Evan with a carefully neutral face.

“I--”

“Gee, if only there was a solution to that, readily available! Maybe if someone had the solution in one hand with a glass of water in the other!”

“Lilah, get off of--” Evan protested with a weak shove against her side.

“Oh wow! Nyla, look at what you have there! Golly, Evan, isn’t that convenient!?” Lilah propped her fists on her hips and sent him a broad smile, obviously faked.

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re mulish.”

“I’m being ganged up on!” Evan complained. “Greyson, come back me up!”

“Hm?” Greyson intoned, pulling his tie tight.

“Tell them to lay off me--literally.” Evan gave another weak shove to Lilah’s side. “It’s two against one, here.”

“You should probably listen to Nyla.”

“Traitor,” Evan hissed, Lilah staring down at him smugly, feeling her cattish grin. She deliberately shifted her weight, bringing it right back down on his ribcage, and he wheezed again.

“Oh gee, Ev, that sounded like you’re in a lot of pain!”

“Get your lardbutt off of me!”

Lilah just stared at him, grinning, while Nyla looked at him as well, seeming very ready to have this over with.

She felt him go limp before he sighed out, “Fine! One pill, now get off of me.”

Lilah hopped off, prompting another “OOF” outta him, and she pulled on a pair of socks. Hole in the toe, on one, and while she could theoretically work with that, she added it to her ideas. 

Her family did not know about her ideas. Her family would find out about them when or after Master did.

Because here was the thing: Lilah was clever. Nyla knew more about math and how to run a household than Lilah ever would, and Greyson knew the ins and outs of being theoretically perfect, and Sasha was a cook like no other, (and well Evan, he was just dumb (he wasn’t, he was brilliant in his own right)), but Lilah was clever. And that cleverness had never done her any good, with Mistress, the mind games weren’t the sort that called on her smarts to solve, but she was fairly certain she had a good read on Master.

It just wasn’t a take that her family would agree with. Yet.

They were too close to the situation, too involved, whereas Lilah was kept in the garden and only heard of Master’s actions, and, if Lilah was being honest, her family was too used to how things were with Mistress. Too willing to believe her. Lilah was the youngest, which meant she was the most frail, and the most in need of protection, she wouldn’t deny that, but it also meant she had never fully bought into the “this is normal” rhetoric Mistress and the others were so married to. 

Honestly, the only reason she hadn’t called the bureau’s slave report line on Mistress had been because by the time she realized just how bad things were here, she’d already gotten attached to her family. Getting out from under Mistress’s thumb, no matter how bad it was, wasn’t worth sacrificing her family for. It wasn’t worth getting auctioned off to different owners, other strangers, separated from each other. And honestly, she couldn’t remove Greyson from the only home he’d known for so long; it would’ve been unforgivably cruel.

But Mistress was dead, and now alllllll those lessons she’d learned four years ago (the longest four years of her life, but much closer to her than to the others) in slave training were resurfacing. The demands a slave could reasonably make of their owner, expectations she hadn’t forgotten, necessarily, just left somewhere in a cranny of her mind to collect dust until she brushed it off.

If Master was being honest, if he really wasn’t playing a weird mind game with them, then that meant Lilah was the most equipped to, well, ‘deal with him’ was a weird way to phrase it but an accurate one nonetheless. “If,” of course, being the key word. If he really was as kind as he acted. If he meant the things he told them. If this wasn’t all just one long, intricate act.

Evan had tried to call him on that if. As much as Lilah loved him, she could say with full certainty that Evan had been an idiot about it. She was also of a mind that he’d been an idiot each time he’d tried it with Mistress, too, because there were other ways to test an owner’s limits! Part of her blamed herself; Evan had been reckless because Master had been hurt, and it was Lilah’s fault. The noble moron was always looking out for her, like that.

It was her turn, now, to be the one to look after her family, to be clever and find the edge of that if. 

The problem, of course, was that Lilah’s confidence was largely born from the fact that she interacted with Master very little, and the times he did have anything to do with her he had been very nice and friendly (and merciful, even a generous owner would hit a slave for injuring them). Which meant the problem, of course, was that Lilah would have to actually interact with him and push that if. She revved up the lawn mower, and made an “if” of her own.

Master liked it when they asked for things. If she asked for something absurd (something far too expensive, something dangerous, too many things altogether all at once (hence her list of ideas)) and he said yes, this was an act. If she asked for something absurd and he said no, that meant he was enacting sensible limits and she and her family just hadn’t reached those yet (because Mistress had been terrible and unreasonable like Lilah had said).

The tipping point of all of this, naturally, had been Nyla getting attacked and Evan getting stabbed. Lilah had come inside to find Nyla in Master’s shirt, and heard that Master had gone, half-naked, to the hospital with Evan, with the insinuation that he wouldn’t be back home unless Evan was with him. It had been Master calling just to check in on them, and suggest a movie night (which, hm, wow), and let them know that Evan, their Evan, was alright, more or less. It had been hearing about just how much Evan had messed up while on painkillers and how Master hadn’t even reprimanded him.

So here were the stakes: Lilah could settle their Master, once and for all, into the category of “a good person,” or she could pull the curtain away from his act before she got attached and ended up the butt of the game he was playing. 

The trick would be to keep herself from going Quiet. She hadn’t in a while, which gave her some confidence, but she knew that once she was actually, like, up near him and trying to talk to him, the fear would settle in. He was just… so big. And the if was so big. And if she messed this up, it’d be a really, really big mistake. (If her hunch was right, it’d be a really big payoff).

None of this was helped by the fact that she herself was so exceptionally small. 

She always went Quiet when the Lords (though Master Galo said she couldn’t call them Lords anymore, which, good riddance) played with her. Her only other experiences with men were Greyson (who could and would do nothing to her, ever) and Evan (who she loved and cherished dearly and who loved her just as much, also not a threat). So it was anybody’s gamble how she would react to Master Galo when she was doing more than just, like, standing there with his hand on her back and listening to him fumble with his words.

The fumbling was a good sign, though, now that she’d had the chance to recognize it as such. Master Galo was thoughtful, but he wasn’t like, schemey. A schemer. He had no schemes.

She hoped.

Ultimately, she’d find out; she just needed an opportunity. She hadn’t really thought she would get one so soon.

Sasha waved her in for lunch, instead of carrying a plate out to her, which, hm. Alarm bell number one. Sasha rarely passed up the chance to go outside, and usually family meetings happened at dinner these days. Master didn’t have hair-triggers like Mistress had, so keeping everyone up to date on even the most minute changes in mood wasn’t a necessity anymore. Another reason Lilah was, more or less, willing to believe this wasn’t an elaborate act. There’d be more push and pull to it, wouldn’t there?

Lilah was last to arrive, and took up a spot beside Evan, who was sitting on the kitchen stool. Greyson was standing, and that was just weird.

“Lilah, once we’re done eating, you’re to remain inside,” Nyla stated, and Lilah didn’t bother questioning if that was Master’s order, or reasoning of Nyla’s own. It didn’t matter, either way; one’s word was as good as the other’s. None of them would ever disobey Master Galo, except Evan when he was stupid, but none of them would ever disobey Nyla, period.

(Well, okay, maybe Evan if he was being really stupid, but he promised he wouldn’t do that anymore).

“Wh-” Sasha started, licked her lips, set plates out in front of Nyla and Greyson, “What is M-Master..?”

“I don’t know yet,” Nyla said, brushing down her apron before picking up her fork. “Something. Everyone be careful.”

“It might just have something to do with Evan’s stab wound,” Lilah mentioned, taking her and Evan’s plates from Sasha and setting his in front of him, snitching a bite off his plate as he plucked one from hers. The mood in the room shifted. Master was the sort to fuss over Evan’s injury, based on everything they’d seen him do before. The agitation… didn’t disappear, but it settled, a little, everyone nervous but not Sasha-scared.

Lilah tagged along with Nyla when she went to go find Master, once she’d eaten. Sasha and Greyson helped Evan up to the second floor, where Master had been all day (apparently) and where they were expecting him to want them. Nyla couldn’t immediately find Master, though, and Lilah kept back a few paces. Nyla wasn’t… super aware that Lilah was tailing her, instead of sticking with the group. Lilah wasn’t hiding that fact from her, but she was also keeping her feet light and staying a ways behind her. They went back downstairs, and found him in the main floor sunroom.

“Oh, hey Nyla!” Master said brightly, Lilah listening and half-watching from around the doorframe. It wasn’t spying. It wasn’t eavesdropping. (But if it was, would it be a mind game or a mercy when (not if, when) he didn’t punish her for it, if he were to find out?)

“Master Galo,” Nyla greeted graciously, bowing and kissing his hand with the grace and fluidity that Lilah ever only mimicked. “We have finished, Master, and available to attend to your needs.”

“Great, thanks, so, can we get everyone together in a room with a tv? I know you all don’t like the den--” Lilah flinched, and Nyla didn’t but she knew the very word bothered her also, “--but the living room furniture isn’t great and the parlor doesn’t have a TV, so I guess library maybe? I’m open to suggestions here.”

“If Master would prefer, we could gather in the central drawing room upstairs,” Nyla suggested with all her practiced poise. 

“Oh, gee, I don’t wanna make Evan climb all those stairs on his leg,” Master Galo said, scratching at a sideburn.

“Evan is already upstairs, Master.”

Lilah watched Master’s face knit together in confusion, lips making a choked off “Wh--” before pursing closed, then thinning into a pale line. His hands (seemingly reflexively) made a ‘just leave it’ kind of motion as he said, “Okay. Let’s uh, let’s go get everyone in the upstairs drawing room. The one with the sunken furniture, right?”

That was Lilah’s cue to run. Swiftly, but paying speed in exchange for silence, she ran down the hall and up the steps, and found her family in the ‘greenhouse’ that wasn’t a greenhouse it was just Mistress not knowing what to call things.

“Lilah!” Evan hissed with agitation, “Where were y--”

“Master says we should all go into the central drawing room,” Lilah said, “I was tailing Nyla.”

“Sh-she’s not g-going to, like that,” Sasha whispered, and yes, Lilah was aware. She was gonna do a lot of things Nyla was going to get very, very stressed about. Maybe all of the things. It depended on what Master wanted them all for, but she was definitely going to start pressing the if. She’d thought about it all morning, she wasn’t going to chicken out now, when she’d literally wondered when she might get an opportunity.

“Come here and be my crutch.”

“You have crutches.”

“Yeah but they’re not gonna run off and do stupid shit. I’m the idiot in this relationship, remember?”

Lilah stuck her tongue out, but stayed out of arm’s reach. She was gonna go off-script and that meant scaring the living bejeezus out of her family and also not letting Evan’s warm arm and familiar smell talk her down from it. 

Master was already sitting down in the low furniture, Nyla looking surprised to see them all already on their way into the room. He was fiddling with his laptop, hooking it up to one of the tvs on the wall. She wasn’t gonna get a better opportunity than this.

Master liked physical proximity. They’d all noted that more than well enough, ranging from quietly pleased (Nyla) to bitter and pouty (Evan). Master didn’t like it when they kneeled on the ground, always insisting that they sit in ways that didn’t hurt and that one time he’d coaxed Greyson onto the furniture. He was a generous owner, and Mistress had been horrifically bad.

All the details, all the odds were in her favor.

She just needed to

Walk up to him 

And

Hop

Over the back of the couch and

Breathe 

Passing out would probably not go over well

And sit

With a cheerful “Hello Master Galo”

With the tremors kept out of her voice

(Thank god)

As she sat

Right

There.

Her pulse was careening, her hands were shaking, but she was smiling (and why hadn’t she ever been able to fake a smile like this, before?) and sitting a hair away from her Master. Her giant Master who could hurt her so bad (but hadn’t). He was staring down at her with open surprise. Her whole family, she knew, were statues of shock. But she didn’t kiss his hand, she stomped down her body screaming at her to get down on the ground and grovel, apologize, beg forgiveness. She just sat on the couch with her hands between her thighs and her feet swinging shallowly to hide their shaking. Smiling up at her Master, whose arm was so close to her she wouldn’t even really need to lean in for them to touch.

“Hey, Lilah,” Master Galo said, settling his giant hand onto her tiny back and giving it a brief rub with his thumb, and he could probably hear her next shaky, relieved breath, but he didn’t comment. “Good to see you. The rest of you, come on over, I want to try a thing today.”

Well that makes two of us, Lilah thought. Between us both, we should be able to kill my family with stress, she tacked on, morbidly humored. 

“Is there anywhere you would prefer us, sir?” Nyla asked, not stuttering (she was always too composed for that) but her own voice sounding a little shaky (Lilah would need to be so good for her as an apology). It was very clearly an opening for Master Galo to direct Lilah somewhere away from him, where the family could 1. hide her, protect her and 2. silently reprimand her until they got someplace where they could afford to make it no longer silent. The order of those items was, in fact, by priority.

But Lilah wasn’t going anywhere. “Yeah, come sit on the couches with us,” Master ordered, friendly and open and he had said us. Lilah was… included in on that. It was gratifying, in a way, to be the first of the five of them to do something right for the situation. Usually Nyla went uncontested in that department. (It was because Nyla was smart and quick and experienced and also beautiful and amazing). Greyson sat next to Lilah, Evan next to him, then Nyla, then Sasha, at the far end, clinging to Nyla’s arm and leaning close, with the bodies of the others ideally obscuring Master’s view of the minor intimacy. 

Lilah briefly thought of reaching out and voluntarily touching her Master, grabbing onto his arm and leaning like that, but her brain and stomach reminded her of the virtue of baby steps and not overwhelming herself. And yeah, she was gonna keep pushing the if, but like, in a smart way. She was gonna do exactly what Master had said, and find the limits, not suicidally touch the guy who owned her without provocation. She wasn’t Evan, no matter how much her family was sending fervent, secretive, panicked glances her way.

“So,” Master started, his laptop screen projected on the massive tv in front of them, showing what looked to be some sort of online catalogue, “starting with the easier stuff: Nyla and Evan both need new clothes, since theirs got knifed, and I figured this could just be a nice opportunity for you all to get new clothes? I noticed you didn’t really have, uh, many.”

“Master is generous,” Nyla said, dutiful and exactly as she was meant to.

“Well, I can afford to be as generous as conceivably possible. So,” Master Galo gestured at the tv, “my thought process was that I’d click around the stores I think sell quality stuff, and if you see something you like, pipe up? Nyla, will you speak for Sasha if she sees something she wants?”

“Yes, Master.”

Lilah felt like if there really was a god, it was holding her accountable to her ideas. How’s that for cosmic interference? She literally could not have asked for a better setup to test Master Galo’s if.

“Cool, so, uh, feel free to take this as an order if it makes it more comfortable, but tell me when you guys want something on the screen, okay?”

“Yessir,” Lilah beat Nyla to the punch, which was a grievous upset of the natural order of their family hierarchy, but she was doin’ something here.

“Cool,” Master said, glancing down at Lilah with what seemed like befuddlement. It would be befuddlement on any regular, non-owner person, so, in adherence with Lilah’s theory that this wasn’t just an act. Then. It was befuddlement. Conclusion drawn, haha.

“Master, may I have that?” Lilah asked, stopping him mid-scroll with a point of her finger. “The pink one.” Her finger was definitely shaking. Her whole arm was shaking. Master liked being asked for things and this whole setup was specifically so they would ask him things. Heck, it might even be that he was doing this just because they’d been so bad at asking him for things, and he thought they needed a… tutorial of sorts. A beginner’s sort of experience. She dropped her hand back between her thighs, willing herself to stop trembling.

“Yeah, Lilah, good girl,” Master praised, adding the skirt to the cart. The way he phrased it was so strikingly familiar--Lilah’s trainers had done the same thing, setting up easy tests for behaviors that didn’t come naturally to slaves just so they could praise and reaffirm the successes, make their students associate doing the undesirable thing with rewards.

She could do this. She could do this.

“Master, may I have that?” she asked again. And again. And again, and again. Any time anything even remotely caught her eye, anything that sparkled or glittered or was made of pink or lime or lilac or mint. She asked for overalls with flowers embroidered all over them, t shirts and tank tops and sports shirts and graphic tees and funny sayings and jewelry, too, cheap stuff, fake stuff, (though if the option of actual jewelry was presented, she’d ask anyway, just to test the if), but glittery and shiny and entirely unnecessary. She asked for crazy socks and a new pair of workboots and thick t-shirts to ward off the sun, headbands, cat ears, gloves, weird belts, leggings, skirts, and lace. Every time, he indulged her, encouraged her, once even told her to keep it up. Her shaking didn’t disappear, but it… lessened, with that. 

By the time any of the rest of her family spoke up, Master Galo had checked out from two virtual stores with carts filled with nothing but frivolous nonsense that Lilah and only Lilah had asked for. Old Navy had absolutely nothing that interested Lilah, all dark dreary blues and blacks and whites, so she mostly just sat there, buzzing, as Master scrolled.

“Master,” Evan said, and Master’s finger stopped, “may I… wear something other than vests?”

“Yeah,” Master answered, sounding about as cautious with his words as Evan had. “Do you, not want to wear vests?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“Okay then. Yeah, don’t wear vests.”

“Master, may I have the red t-shirts?” Evan asked, gesturing with a hand that was absolutely shaking as bad as Lilah’s had, towards the 10-pack of plain t’s on the top of the list. Master Galo added to the cart with an easy “Sure, bud.”

“And… could I bother you to go back a page, sir? To the jeans?”

Evan was trying very hard to be polite, which usually just left him sounding uncertain, unless the manners were a cover up for barely-leashed rage, which usually made him sound constipated.

“Sure, no big,” Master Galo said, and ordered multiple sets of jeans for Ev. “Well done, Evan.”

With Lilah leading and Evan having followed one (1) time, Sasha and Nyla hesitantly joined in, Sasha getting a lot of soft looking fabrics, sweaters, skirts, and the like, Nyla getting a pressed skirt, two blouses, a plain beige sweater, tights, and three different crisp, cute dresses. Lilah kept up her resolution to ask for everything she could possibly want until she found out how much was too much.

“Do you want me to just, like, pull up the Claire’s catalogue and hand you the computer?” Master Galo asked. Lilah wasn’t sure, but she was willing to say that that meant Master Galo’s ‘too much’ came in at around 227 consecutive “Master may I”s, because yes Lilah had been counting.

“If that’s what you would prefer, sir,” Lilah said, and took the laptop when he handed it to her.

...okay. Okay, she could do this. Just, add the things to the cart herself. “Without asking, sir?”

“Yeah, just add anything you want, I’m good for it.”

Lilah scrolled down so she could see the first item, which was a fat grey cat plush, and she added it. She added every single following item, waiting, each time she did, for her Master to call her on it, to tell her “too much.” She legitimately did want every single thing she saw, though, all the flower crowns, the earrings, the necklaces, the gaudy sunglasses, the plastic hair extensions, the bracelets, the flip flops, the trinkets, the charms.

“Master, Sasha would like the blue hair pins,” Nyla said, and Lilah, daringly, did not wait for her owner’s response before simply changing the quantity from one to two. She hovered, still, for a moment after, waiting for the reprimand, the blow. Neither came. She resumed scrolling. 

She handed the laptop back when it came to checking out, and her Master didn’t even seem bothered by how much she’d already asked for. It made sweat prickle between her shoulder blades.

Four stores later, Master gently prompted, “Greyson, have you seen anything you like?”

He’d been silent the whole time, and everyone glanced nervously at him. It didn’t look like he was Quiet, not like she got, but there was definitely something… not absent but hardly present, in his eyes.

“I have been neutral towards all selections, Master,” he said, quiet and even.

“Okay, well, do you think you could manage finding one thing you want, before we wrap up here?” Master prodded, sounding gentle, but they all knew a demand when they heard one.

“The… Hawaiian shirts were nice, sir,” Greyson said, even quieter.

“Okay, sure, which store were those in..?” Master trailed off, but Nyla knew the answer anyway. Master selected a greyish-blue one when Greyson seemed to struggle with a color preference, and then bought all of them packs of plain underwear and socks. No lingerie, which… yeah, Lilah was having faith in him, she was, which meant that that was a good sign.

“So, I don’t actually know how normal bras work,” Master informed them, “Mine were all too-small sports bras I tried on in the Target dressing room and binders once I made it out on my own; I do not know how sizing works.” He scratched uncomfortably at the back of his head, the women looking at him intensely, Grey and Ev staring pointedly at the tv in different stages of discomfort.

“I am a 32B, Sasha is a 42DD, and Lilah is a 30C, Master,” Nyla said, crisp and clear and not showing the discomfort that Lilah knew she was feeling. Lilah also noted that those were… up a band size, from the last time Lilah had heard those particular measurements. Though, true, they’d been eating regularly and work had been light, so they were all gaining weight, it made sense to account for that.

Nyla was so smart.

“Great, sweet, done,” Master said, quickly locating those sizes, and prompting them to choose bras (three each) in those sizes, clearly and evidently wanting this particular part of their online spree to be done. Lilah felt very much the same, and knew Sasha could only be feeling that so, so so so, so so much worse.

“Alright, anything else anybody want while we’re still on this topic?” Master Galo asked. “I would like to clarify if something comes up later, you can absolutely still ask for it then, just, while I have the tab up, yknow.”

If Lilah was going to push the if, now was the time to push.

“Master, may I have a knife set?” Lilah asked with faux-cheer, Evan actually leaning around past Grey to look at her like she was nuts. She pointedly didn’t look at him, her pulse keying back up in her chest and her body shaking again.

“Uh,” Master looked at her strangely as well, and she smiled at him. “W… mmm, why?” Master asked, his voice pitching up.

Right, frick, because knives could technically have sensible uses. She needed to make it clear that this was a dangerous and unnecessary request. “I wanna stab Evan again.”

“Okay, uh, gonna put a no, on that one, actually,” Master said, laughing breathlessly, seeming torn between confusion and amusement. Lilah would absolutely take that over him getting mad.

“Yes Master!” she said perkily, and for all that she could hear her own heartbeat, the happiness wasn’t even faked. He’d set a sensible, reasonable boundary, and enforced it. Not even by punishing or scolding her! She was right. She was right.

It didn’t immediately turn off the part of her brain that was in charge of being scared of him, or calm the shaking of her hands squished tightly between her thighs, but she could work on that.

“Okay, so next item on the list: therapists. There are two therapists in this city that have precedent with consulting--slaves.”

Lilah watched the screen with the rest of the family as he tabbed to a different window, the profiles of two women already pulled up. And, because Lilah could read and pay attention to her owner at the same time, she knew the word Master had stumbled over. Abused slaves. Was that what they were? It seemed right.

“This is not actually gonna be a negotiable thing; you guys need to talk to someone with a degree about--everything. I think it’s generally poor practice to consult people who are connected to each other, but, given the circumstances, I’m hoping we can just split you five between the two. Or not! Therapy should ideally feel like a good fit, so, if you have a session with one and don’t click, you can always change your mind, and if you all end up preferring one over the other that’s fine! But I’m making appointments for you all so if you could please tell me which person you’d like to have your first visit with, that’d be great.”

A pregnant pause.

“Oh, and you don’t have to decide right away immediately, read over their profiles or--yeah, just, like, before you leave the room, okay?”

“Yes, Master,” Nyla said, staring at the high-definition images of two strangers, same as the rest of them.

Lilah glanced between the faces. Professional women, looking younger than Greyson but probably about that age, one wearing a cheerful blue top and the other a friendly green. Their biographies were… pretty similar, so Lilah went ahead and chose based on something superficial. 

“Master, may I go with the green one?” Lilah asked, not sure if that was the right way to phrase that.

“Sure,” Master Galo said, as easily as he had for everything else she’d asked for that day. She kicked her legs a little higher, wondering if she should resent the idea that her Master thought they needed fixing or keep on in good faith that he was doing things because he believed it was the right thing to do.

“Master, I would also ask for the one in the green shirt,” said Nyla, “and Sasha humbly requests the one in blue.”

Master nodded, and Evan cleared his throat quietly before saying, “May I go with Nyla and Lilah, sir?”

“Yes, but therapy is one-on-one so you won’t actually be with them.”

The room’s focus shifted to Greyson, who stared at the screen blankly before saying, “Sir, I would prefer blue.”

“Alright, thanks everyone, I’ll get that arranged,” Master Galo said, tabbing windows again. “So, we’re gonna meet back up and do this again, tomorrow, sort of--well, okay, we’re meeting up again tomorrow. Probably not here, because stairs, but after lunch I’m gonna sit you all down and give you a crash course on queerness and more specifically what my life as a trans man specifically involves, since, uh. Auntie Bethany would’ve given you either no information, or wrong information. Which is something we should all, like, fix. You guys can head back to whatever you get up to after lunch, except Evan.” Sweet, Lilah could dodge that particular bullet for a little while. Master Galo pointed a finger (but not in a particularly scary or alarming way) at Evan and said, “We gotta talk about PT. But yeah--uh, dismissed?”

“Thank you, Master,” Nyla said, rising to her feet. Sasha and Greyson followed her lead, and Lilah briefly considered asking Master if she could stay and listen in on the ‘PT’ stuff, if only to delay the inevitable, but no, then Evan would be there to join in with the others and Lilah figured that’d be a lot of people mad at her all at once. Oh well, time to go get read the riot act. Lilah hopped to her feet and knew what Greyson was doing when he settled into step behind her.

Ohhhhh, she was in so much deep shit. Her brain flip flopped on whether she wanted to try and be cavalier about it, or if the Quiet was gonna come swooping in partway through Nyla scolding her.

She didn’t want to leave the room. The others wouldn’t demand answers to complicated questions with Master in ear-shot.

Lilah was all but counting the steps. Down the stairs, through the hall, deliberately herded into the kitchen (she reminded herself there was little point in making a break for it). She weighed the pros and cons of trying to cut Nyla off and explain herself before the others could say anything, but she dismissed the idea. She’d interrupted Nyla enough already. 

“Lilah,” Nyla said, turning around and clapping her palms together in front of her mouth. “Mind explaining to us what, exactly, that was?”

She wasn’t mad at Lilah like she’d been when Evan was stupid. Good? Lilah hadn’t pissed their Master off like Evan had, though, so this probably shouldn’t be surprising.

(Maybe Nyla had the same suspicions Lilah did).

“He likes it when we ask for things,” Lilah said with a shrug that was more relaxed than she felt. “So I asked him for things.”

“And practically sat on top of him,” Nyla grit out with a twitch in her right eye. Ah, there was the anger Lilah had been expecting. She looked away from Nyla, shoulders rising and shifting her weight uncomfortably.

“He wasn’t gonna hurt me.”

“How could you p-possibly know th-that?!” Sasha demanded, and oh, yikes. Sasha was the mad one, okay, Lilah would need to recalibrate on that.

“He didn’t,” Lilah said with a broad gesture at the ceiling. He didn’t murmured her pounding heart, still not quite believing it all the way, herself.

“But you c-can’t have known th-that!”

“Sure I could,” she lied, “he hasn’t hurt us yet, right?”

“Lilah,” Nyla said, firm and even and calm and bringing the gravity of the room right back onto her, “That was incredibly reckless. What were you trying to accomplish?” Something in Nyla’s tone made Lilah pause. Like… like Nyla was looking for something more than just answers.

“...I wanted to see if he really meant it,” Lilah admitted, though she did not specify what ‘it’ was.

“And you couldn’t have warned us?” Nyla asked with narrowed eyes.

“You would’ve tried to stop me,” Lilah said sullenly, no longer able to bite down on the need to cross her arms in front of her chest. Given how everyone was reacting so far, maybe she could’ve, maybe they woulda let her. It made the scolding hit harder than she’d anticipated.

“Lilah,” Nyla started, but cut herself off with a grimace and a hand raised to her head. Oh gee, oh gee oh god.

“Nyla?” all three of them said together, and Lilah jumped a little at the reminder that Greyson was right behind her. Silent to that point.

“It’s just a headache,” she said with a wave of her other hand, then leaned lightly on the counter. She was still upright, so Lilah was inclined to believe her, but she also knew that she was very likely the cause for this headache. 

“I was reckless,” Lilah said quietly, hands on Nyla’s arms and eyes on Nyla’s face, waiting until she could see her eyes again. “I’m sorry I upset you, but I’ll probably do it again, for as long as Master lets us, because I want to know. You’ve all protected me so well,” Lilah praised, grateful, so thankful she could never in all her life express it properly, “but I don’t think I need protected, right now.”

Nyla sighed, and then pulled Lilah into a hug. “Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Promise me that much, at least.”

“I promise,” Lilah said, and meant it. She had no intention of being an idiot about this; she had more self-preservation than that.

Sasha’s hand came to rest on Nyla’s shoulder, and Lilah let go as Nyla was gently pulled away. “M-Master and Evan are t-t-talking. You can lie d-down until th--”

“It really is just a headache, Sasha,” Nyla murmured, smiling at her, and Lilah frowned. She agreed with Sasha.

“You could ask,” Lilah said, since that was apparently her forte, now. “I could ask for you. Master likes being asked for things; he’d let you lie down until it went away, you wouldn’t even have to be sneak--”

“Lilah, please,” Nyla said, cutting her off as well. “It’s just a headache. Let’s all get back to work, okay?”

But what if it doesn’t stay just a headache!? Lilah wanted to ask, but arguing with Nyla was a guaranteed way to make it worse, so she just. Went back outside. She tugged at her collar again as she went. Darn, and she’d just been in a room with Master asking him for things. Oh well, it wasn’t terrible yet.

She picked up the garden shears and started pruning, the snip snip snip of the metal calming, routine, familiar. She entered the hedges, afternoon sun casting short shadows over her, the leaves and branches of the hedges creating dark dappling over her already freckled skin and twitching with each branch or leaf she cut off.

It all hit her then. What she’d done. How badly she could’ve been punished, if she hadn’t been right. All the fear and tension she’d hidden from her family, pretending to be fine, all the ice around her heart keeping her tense as a strung bow as she sat within a breath of her Master, who she could stand next to and not even reach his shoulder. She had been reckless, she had been risky, and it paid off but oh god, oh god oh god oh god. 

Somewhere in the middle of it all, her hands stopped moving and she stared out into space, her mind shutting down against the wave of emotion she wasn’t equipped to handle.

--

Galo waited only as long as it took to make sure Evan didn’t fall down the stairs, then he was on the lookout for a subtle way to slip out to the garden. He had enough presence of mind to know that if the others saw him going outside right on the heels of, well, that, they’d probably freak and think he was upset with Lilah for being bold.

But oh, just the opposite. He had not expected Lilah, of all people, to be the first to, well, take that big of a step. She’d even cracked a joke! He was delighted, and confused, and so curious it tasted like metal in his mouth. He wanted, he needed, to talk to her, to see-- to know-- to--

He had to talk to her. He was jittery, abuzz. He just needed to find a way to do it without freaking anyone out. He’d be visible from any of the back-facing windows on the trek out there, so, hnng, how to go about it, fuck.

There were no windows in the utility room, beyond a small, thin, rectangular skylight that offered no visibility, and Greyson was gonna pull the laundry out of the dryer and fold it soon, if Galo’s internal clock was right. The kitchen had one single window in it, half-hidden by a hutch and blocked by a tree, and it didn’t even face the backyard, so Sasha wasn’t a concern. Evan, well, Galo knew where Evan was. So really, that just left Nyla that Galo needed to make sure didn’t look at the garden for… like, five minutes. However long it took for him and Lilah to get behind a hedge. 

Hm. That sounded--uh. Bad word choice there, brain. Thank god no one here was as mindreader.

He found Nyla in the den (UGH), duster in hand and leaning on the back of an armchair, looking to be in pain. A new priority took hold.

“Nyla? Nyla, sweetie, what’s wrong?” Galo asked in a rush, approaching her swiftly and very gingerly touching a hand to her back and hovering the other over her arm, wanting to avoid too much touch if possible. “Where does it hurt?”

“Master, I…” Nyla took a deep breath, straightened (and Galo reluctantly moved back, gave her space), and smiled, but a wince came close on its heels. “I’m fine, Master, I’m just,” her foot shifted, ever so slightly, but on Nyla it was noticeable as hell, “prone to headaches, sir. It will pass.”

Well, hey, two birds with one stone, Galo joked morbidly. “Would it pass faster if you took a break and lied down for a little while?” he suggested, side stepping so Nyla had a clear shot to the door of the den and nudging her forward with a gentle hand to her back.

“Master, I’m fine--”

“Nyla,” Galo interrupted, very softly. He--slowly, gently--took the duster out of her hand and set it down on a random piece of furniture, it didn’t matter, and gave her another, feather-light push towards the basement stairs.

“...Yes, Master Galo,” Nyla said, and Galo raised his hand to gently cup the lower base of her skull, away from where most of his headaches were generally located, and gave her hair a small ruffle.

“Good girl, Nyla, go lie down and rest a bit.” Galo nearly jumped out of his skin to find that Greyson was also there, their paths crossing, but quickly gave the man a smile and nod. Good, right on schedule. Okay. He looked a little… odd, but Galo didn't think too hard on it, preoccupied with getting outside. 

Greyson and Nyla went downstairs, and Galo waited exactly long enough for them to hit that bottom step before he slipped out the back door, carefully closing it behind him, thankful--not for the first time--that Nyla maintained the house with such intense care. The thing was well-oiled, and soundless.

No immediate sight of Lilah, so he felt it was okay for him to jog. Seeing someone like, well, him, running towards her would spook her, no matter how brave she’d felt a little while ago, but she couldn’t scare if she couldn’t see him. And for a solid bit, he couldn’t see her, either! Yeah, haha, the grounds were massive. He still felt way, way too large for just one person to be in charge of, but he’d seen the others popping out to help Lilah with stuff here and there so like?? He resolved to try not to worry about it too hard.

He would, however, worry about Lilah as he found her, vacantly staring through the hedge she was standing behind, garden shears raised but unmoving. He approached slowly, brow furrowed, and quietly asked, “Lilah?”

No response, which, okay! Okay, alright, so, he just, like, carefully wrapped his fingers around the shears (he didn’t want anyone getting hurt), very gently set his palm against her back, and tried again, a little louder, “Lilah?”

She jumped, unsurprisingly, and Galo caught the shears easily, already murmuring, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re alright.”

Lilah stared at him with large eyes, hands visibly shaking, and swallowed thickly. “Yes, sir, thank you Master.”

Galo set the shears down on the grass and settled his hand on her shoulder blade, eyes searching her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Master, just…” she took a deep breath in, looking entirely overwhelmed.

“Would… it be better if I wasn’t here right now?” Galo asked, mentally kicking himself. He’d been so concerned with what the others might think if they saw him coming out to visit Lilah that he’d neglected to consider how she might feel, this close on the heels of something that had to have been difficult for her. Here he was again! Pushing too hard, too fast, too soon!

“No! Sir, no sir,” Lilah said snatching out a hand but stopping herself before she grabbed his shirt, bringing her hand back to her chest and half-hugging herself. “No, I’m--what did you want from me, sir?”

“Just, like, to check in, I guess. Theoretically I wanted to talk to you about, uh,” Galo faltered, wondering what he would even call that.

“...Theoretically, sir, that might be a little much for me to discuss head-on,” Lilah said, eyes staring past him but not looking quite like she was disassociating, just focused on her words (he hoped).

“Right, sorry--”

“But, hypothetically,” Lilah cut in, visibly flinched, then pushed on, “what would you have wanted to say, Master?”

Galo paused for a long moment, scanning what he could see of Lilah’s face (god she was so short, would it be rude of him to kneel down or would that feel like he was invading her space?) and his gears turning.

“Hypothetically,” he said carefully, “I would--could be wondering what prompted today’s show of bravery.” Then he rushed to tack on, “If, hypothetically, that would be something you were comfortable discussing.”

“And,” Lilah said, taking a couple of steps around Galo and moving towards the fountain, “in this hypothetical situation, would it be okay if I said I didn’t want to answer your questions?”

“Of course,” Galo said immediately, softly, following after her, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Then, since, knowing that it’d be okay either way would make me more comfortable, I’d probably tell you that it’s because I think you really might be as nice as you’ve been acting, to us.”

From anyone else in the world, phrasing like that would’ve been the most passive aggressive of insults, but from Lilah, from one of his slaves, it was a compliment so potent it knocked the wind out of him.

“Yeah?”

Lilah held her wrist with a shaking hand, staring straight ahead at the fountain as she said, “I’ve been, thinking, lately, Master, about how you act, and how you talk to us. And I think… that you wouldn’t put so much effort into being kind to us, and gentle and careful with us, if it was all just going to be an act in the end. You went with Evan, to the hospital, and you fuss over us, and you gave Nyla your shirt, and you’ve literally never hit any of us, even when Evan was trying to get you to. So. I think, that you’re a good person, sir, and that, theoretically, means that I, possibly, could push boundaries.”

Galo wanted to cry. He took a deep, surprisingly shaky breath (though really, should he be surprised) and ran his fingers through his hair, watching Lilah plop herself down on the side of the fountain and taking a seat next to her.

“Well, in this hypothetical situation, that would make me so, so happy to hear.”

“Yeah? It would?” Lilah asked uncertainly, and Galo nodded; now he was the one unable to look directly at Lilah.

“I’ve been, uh, trying really hard, to prove to you--all of you--that I don’t want to hurt you, and that you’re my responsibility and I want to take good care of you all. I just--I was starting to wonder if I’d made any progress at all, the entire time I’d been here. So, hypothetically, that kind of information could be a big weight off my chest.” Galo sounded emotional as all hell, but decided that was a vulnerability Lilah could see.

Galo took a deep breath, two, three, and then softly, cautiously added, “And, it would be nice if I had someone else in my corner. I don’t know what I’m doing, half the time, and I don’t know how to ask without scaring all of you, so, hypothetically, being able to ask one of you questions would also be a big weight off of me.” 

Lilah nodded very slowly. “Hypothetically, sir, the others wouldn’t like that, if they knew about it. They’ve always protected me, so, if you were to ask me questions, it would probably be best if it didn’t happen where they could hear it. But, I think I probably wouldn’t mind, if you were just asking questions. Sir,” she tacked on at the end.

“And I would be very appreciative, if that were the case.” Galo took a deep breath. “The others, if I wanted them to reach that same conclusion as you, about me meaning it when I say I want to take care of you: how, theoretically, would I go about that?”

“I think… you would just need to be patient with them, Master. They were with Mistress longer than I was, so, it’s harder for them to remember that they’re supposed to be treated better than--how she treated us.”

Galo nodded. “Is there--would there be anything, in the meantime, that I could do? Not even to earn their trust, just to, y’know, make them more comfortable, feel safer? You, too, you’re included in that question.”

Lilah took a moment, and Galo used that span of time to collect himself. “Let us stutter.”

Galo blinked, and turned to her. “Pardon?” Lilah cringed, and Galo quickly rushed to add, “No, no, I just, a little elaboration, please, you’re fine, this conversation is still purely hypothetical, yeah?”

Lilah nodded with a loud inhale through her nose, hugging her knees. “Hypothetically,” she said quietly, as though to herself. “Hypothetically, letting us stutter would,” she gestured vaguely with one hand, “take off a lot of pressure.”

Galo nodded slowly. “I think this is another one of those things where I wasn’t aware it was happening until you brought it up, like the food thing? Did my aunt not let you stutter?”

Lilah shook her head, little rapid movements that set her hair jiggling. “She hated it, sir. It was the fastest way for any of us to get punished, and Sa--” Lilah cut herself off, and picked at a fraying string on her jeans. “It’d be nice, sir, to not have to focus so hard on not stuttering, is all I’m saying.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll make--I would make, like, an official announcement. Stuttering is a-okay and I’m not bothered by it. Would--hmm. Would it be a good idea to also say the hand-kissing isn’t necessary, or would that just upset the balance of things?”

“I think the hand-kissing isn’t really important, and could, hypothetically, wait, sir.”

Galo nodded, “Good to know. On the topic of ‘too much too fast,’ if I wanted to give everyone a day off once a week, or evenings, would now be too soon?”

“Yes Master.” No hesitation on that one, shit.

“Damn, okay, would it work out better if I started out with, like, an evening off once a week?”

“That, uh, that might work, sir, I wouldn’t be certain.” Alright, well, he’d try it. “Sir?”

“Yes, Lilah?”

“Did you--you said ‘like the food thing,’ so, that means you didn't know we weren’t eating?”

“I had no idea. I'm still sorry, though.” Lilah took those words and nodded, putting on a determined face. 

“Not, not smiling all the time, would also, be a nice thing to do, that would be helpful. Nyla will probably do it anyways, but, hypothetically, letting us make facial expressions naturally, would, that could help, sir.”

“Okay, yeah, I’d probably throw that in there with the stuttering announcement. Anything else that comes automatically to mind?”

“And moving gracefully when you’re in the room. Nyla will still probably do that too, but, it’s another one of those things where it’d be nice to not try and focus on.”

“Another added to the hypothetical list. Keep going?”

Lilah’s leg dropped off the side of the fountain and started bouncing. “Master, may I ask for four more kitchen stools?”

“Yes, you can,” Galo said, pulling out his phone and googling that. He ordered a pack of six, since he wasn’t gonna bother scrolling to look for the model his aunt had (not that he’d even remember it without looking at it).

“Master?” Lilah asked, quiet and small.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve grown since the last time my collar was adjusted, so it’s getting tight again. Would you be willing to loosen it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Galo said, extending an arm towards her and letting her shuffle over, back turned to him, pulling her hair over her shoulder. “You can’t do it on your own?”

Lilah went stiff all over, and Galo added, “Since I, theoretically, wouldn’t know.”

“Slaves aren’t allowed to touch the buckles of their collars, Master. Not even regular slaves, who didn’t live with Mistress.”

“Okay,” Galo said, gently pulling the black leather out and taking it down a notch before re-securing it. “Thank you for telling me, turns out my lack of knowledge wasn’t just theoretical, there. Is that a good tightness for you?”

“Yes Master, thank you,” Lilah said, but curiously didn’t move back to where she’d been sitting, just turned and dropped her legs off the side again, bouncing the one furthest from Galo. 

“Okay, hypothetically--well, not hypothetically, I do know that you don’t want to sleep in separate rooms from each other--but, hypothetically, if I were to suggest giving you all, like… offices? Where you could keep your own personal belongings like clothes and everything you ordered today, and have a space of your own that could be called ‘yours’ but then just all go sleep in the same room, would that… how would I go about that?”

Lilah bit her lip and bounced her leg a little faster.

“I think, in theory, that might go over better if, when the items you ordered today start arriving, you, um, you would be like, ‘hey here’s those things that are yours, here is also this space that is yours, that you can keep your stuff in,’ but still let everyone know that sleeping arrangements haven’t changed, sir.”

“Oh, good idea!” Galo praised. That made sense! “And you could all decorate and keep personal stuff, too.”

Lilah glanced to him, as though not quite believing him, and he added, “Hypothetically,” with a playful smile. Lilah grinned back, lopsided and conspiratory, and Galo felt his smile widen. 

It was tentative, still new, and they couldn’t quite address it directly, but Galo had someone on his side now.

Next

[captainrexisboo]

Dumb Luck #3

Note: Heyoooooo two updates in one weekend, whaaaaat? No, actually a fun fact, this was started out as my part 2, but i liked my other idea of building the tension with Sweets seeing Rex with his helmet off for the first time better. There will be a part four, it just wont come as quick! I’m gonna have several more parts to this, I have plans y’all. This chapter has ~slight angst~ if you squint hard enough. Again, I’m open to criticism or Hot Takes TM, I’m still a novice writer! Both my asks and messages are open to everyone! Also... y’all, Jesse is a bro. He’s great.

a link to part two- https://captianrexisboo.tumblr.com/post/623995723815452672/dumb-luck-2

Warnings: suggestive language (the usual)

Tags: @persaloodles @starflyer-104 @imalovernotahater @holamor @000ayfh

~

“Hey, Sweets-“

“Not now, busy,” she threw over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at who was walking up to her corner of the hangar.

Y/N was greatly enjoying herself as an assistant to the head mechanic aboard the flagship. She quickly learned about not only the venator-class destroyer, but also about gunships, shuttles, frigates, landers, even more about her beloved droids, and her absolute favorite to work on, the starfighters. If she were alone in the hangars, she would walk over to the rows of starfighters and just study them, marvelling at every screw, panel, and wire and how it built something so amazing. And right now, she was actually able to work on one of these beautiful machines, and she’d be damned if she let anyone stop her workflow.

Rex lifted a brow at her mannerisms as he watched her dive elbow deep into a much older fighter model, one that hadn’t ever been repainted and typically was the last to be boarded and flown out by shinies who didn’t know any better. She was squatting low to the ground, a panel gone from the ship while she tinkered with its insides, hair barely secure, strands falling out of the haphazardly tied bun she had kept in place with only a single stylus. He was still conflicted at her presence on the ship. She had proven to be smart, quick witted, and of course was an absolute stunner, but she was also stubborn as hell, distracting, and always there. Always a mere moment away, in the hangar, in the generator room, in the mess, the repair bay, the armory- and he hasn’t known peace since.

Let’s be honest, he hasn’t known peace since he met General Skywalker, but he was able to have an illusion of what it was like whenever he was alone with his thoughts. Now he didn’t even have that, his internal narrative shaping into her curves before too long, even in his solitude. Things were different with her here, they were more on edge, like he was tiptoeing around her in a delicate dance to avoid a situation where either of them could build onto their practically visible tension. Kix had told him, ever the blunt medic, that he could cut their tension straight through the air with a scalpel it was so obvious. But he was a Captain, and had a job to do, so when he heard that she had been seen speeding down the halls to the hangars with her tools despite all the ships passing inspection just a few hours ago, he knew he had to be sure she wasn’t doing anything out of protocol. He had grabbed Jesse before making his way to the hangar, in case a mediator was needed, and was now grinding his teeth at the woman concentrating so intensely she didn’t even care to look who else was in the room. He shared a flat look with Jesse before clearing his throat to make his presence known, “You might want to take a break, Y/N.”

She paused what she was doing, her shoulders tightening. Only Rex ever used her actual name, especially when he was in one of his damn moods. This was weird, though, him seeking her out. Recently it seemed as if he had been avoiding her, or making sure they weren’t alone if they had to be in the same room. Try as she could to get his attention, get him all flustered, he’d always just be slightly out of reach, and she was getting increasingly frustrated. She rolled her eyes, summoning her signature bravado before she smoothly stood up to turn around, jutting a hip out and giving a lazy salute, “Ahoy, Captain.”

Jesse tried to mask his giggles under a cough, watching the two interact was his favorite pastime. Rex took note for later to ask a different intermediary for the next strife, before pointing his head to the ship, “What are you doing to that fighter?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” she smiled brightly, almost prideful, wiping her grease slicked hands on the pant leg of her GAR jumpsuit, “Messing with this lovely hunk of junk.”

“Messing with it?” Rex questioned, barely hiding his glance at the handprint now crudely placed on her thigh.

“Gave myself a project to work on,” she explained sauntering towards the pair of troopers with an arm outstretched to the ship, “Boys, meet my baby.”

“Your baby?” Rex slowly tore his gaze off her to look over the fighter blandly, “What a miracle of science.”

“Is Artoo the dad?” Jesse snickered, before receiving a light smack on the arm from the woman. She still chuckled at the quip, showing good humor to him. Despite being absolutely infuriating, Jesse was quickly becoming a good friend to her, like a brother she never wanted.

“Did you get permission before completely gutting the engine, at least?” Rex asked, looking around at the parts that lay on the floor, surrounding her workspace.

She sighed, “Yes, I did, just a bit ago. Ask Caine, he was the final sign off on it. Went through all the proper channels.”

Rex's jaw twitched, stiffening the hand holding his helmet, “It didn’t come through on my end.”

“Maybe it didn’t need to,” she shot, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms, “I’m sure there are some things on this ship that don’t require your approval, sir.”

There it is. The way she said that word got him all riled up. It was one little word, one he got called by from every trooper on every hour of every rotation, but it was her honey-coated voice saying it that drove him to his limit. Every time she spoke the word to him it was like a challenge, daring him to expose his desirous aggression toward her, taunting his mask of composure. Every time she spoke, with a demanding storm in her glare and candy pink lips being teasingly assaulted by her own teeth, it stirred a fire in him he didn’t quite know how to quell. It was maddening, and got worse and burned deeper with every encounter. Before he could dig himself deeper into her trap, he simply pulled on his helmet with a slight growl, and turned on his heel to stalk away from the conversation, barely grumbling out a gruff, “I’m going to talk to Caine.”

“What crawled up his ass and died?” Y/N felt herself wilt a bit as she watched him go, taken aback by the retreat, and admittedly a little disappointed. Usually he’d last longer.

Jesse let out a stale bark of laughter, “Same thing that crawled up yours.”

“Jesse,” she warned, cold eyes coming up to focus on him, drawing out his name as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Sweets,” he mimicked her tone and stance, chuckling low, “Why don’t you just go after him? He’s all pent-up and frustrated, I don’t think the troops can take another feral sparring session. Hell, I don’t think I can take it. Think of the poor shinies.”

She shrugged at him, rolling her eyes as her head lolled to the side, “What can I say, I’m a self-destructive mess that likes to delay my own happiness and ultimate satisfaction.”

“Bantha shit,” Jesse rolled his own amber-hazel eyes at her, “I think you're just a brat.”

She laughed lowly, batting her lashes at him, “Same thing, trooper.”

She turned around, intent on continuing her work before she felt a gloved hand wrap itself around her elbow, turning her back to face the ARC, “I’m serious. Why are you dragging this out, adding to the pressure? If you keep this up, one of you will explode before too long, and then- whether it’s a good explosion, or a bad one- there’s gonna be one hell of a mess to clean up in its wake.”

She lifted a brow at his wording, “Was that innuendo literal, or-”

“Ew,” Jesse blanched, letting go of her arm and scrunching his face at the mental image., “That’s my ori’vod!”

Y/N threw her hands up in a mock surrender with a devilish smirk on her lips, “Look, you’re the one who said it.”

“Just answer the question, maker!”

She was silent for a minute, pursing her lips as she gathered her thoughts together. Jesse was staring intently at her, crossing his arms as he waited for her. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits in her focused state, and she exhaled slowly through her mouth, “I...I don’t know if he actually likes me or not. Sure, we banter, and I flirt, but I don’t know if he legitimately thinks of me the same way. I mean, today he just walked away from our conversation, and it made me feel kind of dejected. He seemed...I don’t know. Exasperated. Like he’s tired of me.”

Jesse had never seen her so vulnerable, so small. Sure, she was easily more than a head shorter than them, but her confidence and charisma always made her seem like she was eight feet tall. She twirled a lock of stray hair around her fingers, looking anywhere but Jesse as she continued, “His responses always vary, so I can’t pin down his exact feelings! He can either be cold and dismissive like today, or he can be actively matching my turn of phrase, there's no in between. So I always just...well, I tease him, you’ve seen it. I’m just testing the waters, seeing if he’s interested.”

“Sweets-“ Jesse cut himself off as he let a heavy hand fall onto her lithe shoulder, “Y/N, look at me.”

At the sound of her name, she blinked up at him, biting her lip to keep from pouting. Jesse was about to continue, barely opening his mouth to begin, when there was a greeting from behind them.

“There she is, right where you left her, Captain!”

Rex had come back, face unreadable as he looked between Jesse and Y/N. An older, brown man walked next to him, tall and lean with a salt and pepper fade, his smile as wide as his stride, “Sweets, lass! Making headway on that pile of scrap, huh?”

“Yes sir, Caine,” she greeted, standing upright and saluting him properly before turning offhandedly to Rex and crossing her arms, “Captain.”

Rex felt his jaw twitch at the sudden chill coming off of her, his brow furrowing at the sudden switch in her demeanor. Caine continued waving his arms, animatedly gesturing to the fighter, “This ship will run better than the day it was bought when you’re through with it, I know it. But, our most thorough Captain here has made it known to me that we did skip a step in approving your request.”

She looked Rex up and down, crossed arms tightening over her ribcage, “Oh really? And what step would that be?”

“Admiral Wulff Yularen,” Rex answered, tone even and cool to match her own, “You’re right in that it wouldn’t pass over my desk, however these are still Republic owned ships. He needs to approve...whatever you’re doing before you continue.”

She bit her lip and tightly squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deep through her nose, before responding, “Fine. I’ll clean up my station. Is there a time I can meet with the Admiral to discuss my mistake?”

Rex began to respond, before Jesse stepped in, “I’ll go explain the situation to him. Caine, would you mind tagging along?”

“Let’s stop by my office to get her approval request forms. Anything that makes this take longer, it gets me away from the repair reports,” Caine guffawed as he walked away with Jesse, leaving the Captain and mechanic on their own. He shifted as her burning stare held onto him for an extended moment after the two had left.

“What?” he growled out, growing aggravated at the silent attitude she was giving him.

“You’re a fucking tattle tale,” she spat out before turning on her heel to begin picking up her tools and various discarded parts of the fighter, “Going to my boss because a form didn’t come your way.”

“What are you, a youngling?” he shot back, but striding over to help her out, “I’m doing you a favor! If Admiral Yularen had found out one of his ships had been tampered with, without his permission, he’d blacklist you from the GAR and put you in a ship to drop you on that same dirt ball we found you on.”

Admiral Yularen was much more empathetic than that, and would not go as far as that for a punishment. But she didn’t need to know that right now.

“I’m not tampering with it- don’t touch my tools,” she looked over to see him dropping her wrenches and welders unceremoniously into her box, “I’m not tampering, I’m fixing. I’m a mechanic, it’s what I kriffin do, I’m sure he’d understand.”

He continued to pick up her scattered tools as she turned back to the disorganized pieces of metal with a roll of his eyes, “That may be so, but the GAR has a very strict way of doing things, and unfortunately the line of command doesn’t just stop at Caine for you. In fact-“

“I said don’t touch my tools!”

“Y/N, I’m trying to help you!” he nearly yelled at her, his voice booming in the high ceilings of the hangar, “Anything I’ve done today, is to help you!”

She scoffed, unmoved by his commanding demeanor, “Sure, help me. You didn’t even want me on this ship to begin with!”

“That’s-“

“You still don’t like me, do you? Is that why you don’t respond to my advances?” she was stalking toward him now, her mess and tools pushed to the farthest corner of her mind until they got this discussion over with. He stood his ground as she got closer, standing at his full height but looking her directly in the eyes nonetheless.

“Y/N-“

“I flirt and tease you all damn day and you just ignore me! Or worse, you respond and then leave when you realize you might’ve reacted a little too positively. I’d at least like a solid no from you, make yourself clear, please!”

“Hey!” he laid two strong hands on her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze, “Shut. Up.”

She glared at him, but complied, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she stood defiantly to him, as tall as she could under his grip. He allowed himself a slow breath, inhale through his nose, hold, exhale through his mouth. He softened his hold, and let his deep honey eyes search her stormy glare, delving into the depths of her soul to make sure she understood, “I think I like you, Y/N. More than I ought to.”

He let that sink in, his cheeks flushing at his own sudden boldness but keeping a lock on her gaze. She raised her brows in surprise, eyes going wide as her agitation subsided, being replaced with something more delicate before sputtering out, “Oh. Okay. Uh, great. So...why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He let out a dark chuckle, letting his eyelids get heavy, “Always one for tact.”

She shrugged under his grasp, a slight grin gracing her features at his amused expression, “Would you expect anything less?”

He shook his head, letting his lips twitch upwards as his thumbs absentmindedly rubbed circles into her shoulders, before clearing his throat, “If you had let me finish earlier, your chain of command doesn’t stop at Caine. It includes Yularen, Skywalker, and me. If I’m seen to be ‘romantically involved’ with a crewmember, I could be court martialed. And then you’d be-“

“Sent back to that rock you picked me up from,” she finished for him, letting a hand come up to rub gently at his right wrist, before sighing, “Maker, I hate it when you’re right.”

“It’s a miracle you still like me, then,” he let a cheeky smile pull through his face, causing her to let out a soft giggle. Somewhere between their dispute and his confession, his voice had shifted to a low, coarse whisper that made her want to hang onto every word. He let a hand off her shoulder, gripping her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, “Do you understand, cyar’ika?”

Her breath was stolen from her as she watched his eyes glance down to her lips, his thumb gently pulling at her skin to have her bottom lip pop out of it’s sharp hold. She shuddered, a pleasant quiver going down her spine as she nodded at him. She fluttered her lashes at him as he chuckled low at her response, “What does that mean?”

“Promise not to get mad?” he smirked at her, as a matching blush sweeping over both their cheeks.

“Rex,” she quirked a brow at him playfully, drawling out his name almost musically. He smiled wide at her, practically spellbound with how his name sounded on her lips.

“It’s Mando’a,” he paused for effect, looking around to make sure no out of place soldiers were looking over before dipping low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “for sweetheart.”

She laughed, the sound warm and full, splaying a hand over his armored heart, the plastoid cool underneath her palm, “Fine. But only you are allowed to call me that.”

She pushed him lightly, having him let go of her shoulders. They stood there, smiling at each other, skin burning where the other’s hands had been, gazes soft with mutual ache. Y/N sighed, “So, what does this mean? For us.”

Rex thought for a minute, walking around her to continue where they had left off cleaning. After she had joined him, he hummed in response, “I think it’s a promise.”

“A promise?” she repeated, finishing up putting all the spares and discarded parts in an unlabelled crate next to the fighter. She leaned against the crate, arms crossing as she grinned at him, “What kind of a promise?”

“After the war is done,” Rex explained, tone surprisingly optimistic, “we can travel the galaxy together. No enemies to be on lookout for, not having to worry about getting caught by my nosy men-”

“Does it have to wait till after the war?” she whined, but still watching him as if he were hanging the stars as opposed to just picking up her tool box. He handed her the plasteel case, latching it closed with one deft hand.

“We can discuss that later,” he sent her a sly wink. She rolled her eyes, righting herself off the crate and looking up at him with the familiar teasing glint in her eyes that he’s come to find very charming.

“Just because you’ve finally confessed, don’t think this means I’ll stop toying with you, sir.”

All he could do was let his smile grow, just thinking about all the alluring ways she’ll drive him crazy, “I never wanted you to stop.”

[neurodiverse-myfanwy]

I’d like to thank @thetorchwoodarchive for how they’ve handled this whole situation.

Being disabled is complicated. No disabled community is a monolith, especially not the autistic community (where most of the drama seems to have come from—I’m the one who sent the first ask as well as an additional ask that I hope came across as polite, but since it didn’t get answered I’m not sure 😅 I tried, and I apologize if it came across as rude, presumptuous, or unkind. Mods, feel free to message me if you want to talk about it). The autistic community is specifically a spectrum, and while that is a beautiful thing, it means that sometimes, people are going to disagree on things and get spoken over.

It’s important to me that I communicate clearly about this and not come across as “oh, it’s all fixed now!”, so I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t totally love how things were phrased at several points in this situation. THAT SAID, you can’t please everyone, and I know that the mods at the Archive are doing everything they can to be as inclusive as possible. They are trying, and they are listening to the autistic community and other disabled folks, and that’s all we can ask. They could have said the exact right words to appease me perfectly, and it would have pissed someone else off. They’re doing they’re best and I think they’re doing it well.

Not only that, but they’re doing this as a hobby, a sideblog, without pay. They have no obligation to please everyone, but they’re doing what they can to make as many of our voices heard as possible. In my opinion, that’s just Good People.

I’m sorry that I appear to have set off a whole thing. I’m sorry for any presumptuous and unkind asks you have received, and for my own assumptions in regards to your mod team. I don’t think I shared them, but they influenced my communications regardless, and may have been hurtful. I’m sorry for what I said that may have been hurtful or harmful, and in the future I will try to give a little more space to respond to situation rather than react and to communicate with more kindness and patience.

All in all, the mod team over at the Archive is fantastic. I appreciate all of you, and I’m grateful for this fest. I read an autistic!Ianto fic I never would have otherwise that was absolutely brilliant, and also have a whole list of fics for other disabilities. Hopefully I’ll still be active in the fandom next time we do one of these so I can share more of my own fics. Y’all are awesome. Thank you for your work.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23

More homestuuuuuck

I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.

oh, always

(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)

> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit

cuuute

In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.

another dave raps quietly to himself.  i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy

(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING. KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he?  like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping

> ==>

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story DAVE: except the flower was a person DAVE: because it was a metaphor

Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it.  So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~

well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

Oh holy shit.  That’s yet another way to put it.  Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today?  cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

exactly

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it

ah this’ll do:

its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form

[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT DAVE: gotem DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

Great examples of Light being good and bad!  Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything.  --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects.  That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place.  The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers.  This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED. DAVE: nice KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS? DAVE: absolutely

--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged

do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth?  or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF. KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be.  :)

> ==>

OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

indisputably.

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2.  So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations.  Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.

I think that’s what they’re going for?  Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues.  And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.

DAVE: also like DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that DAVE: i just DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i DAVE: ugh DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable DAVE: but well survive it KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON. DAVE: but you KARKAT: DAVE. DAVE: no lemme say this

Oh god damnit.  Karkat’s limited lifespan.  As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation.  We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we?  >:(

I guess it had to be discussed, though.

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered DAVE: come up with some kind of plan DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

Jesus.  I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.

Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason.  Which it won’t!  Right???  >:T

> ==>

Dishwasher ding

> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.

Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck.  I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry.  God damnit.  SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!!  *click*

Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.

> ==>

okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging

> ==>

*put*

> ==>

*foot*

> ==>

DAVE: ok go on

I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends.  That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery

> ==>

That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it

KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.

True

KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.

Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation

KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK. KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE. KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.

D’AWWW

And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT

I mean it’s true.  What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this?  It’s pretty fucking great.

...hm.  Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy?  Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.

KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF. KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.

Pff.  He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much.  <3

KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.

I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.

KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT? KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING? KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.

Hah!!!  Point taken.  Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.

KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST. KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA. KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE. KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.

Okay, this is great and wholesome.  I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up.  :)

> ==>

Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.

He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.

Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.

EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.

> ==>

Smooooch!

That was nice.  Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat.  See y’all next time!

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Playing With Fire

Summary: Sure Tom is twice the readers age, but she's tired of being treated as some naive little thing. When she finally confronts Tom she soon finds out that she's playing with fire.

Word Count: 2780

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Authors note: almost finished reposting all my tom stories! woohoo! 

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

The interviewer was nearly beaming, “So in the last trailer, there was quite the scene between you and Tom”. Instantly you smiled, knowing exactly what scene she was referencing. Without answering the question you teased, “That was in there for like a split second, how did you all pick up on it?”.

Anthony intervened, “Because it was you and Hiddleston getting it on...that’s all the world could ask for!”. The crowd ate up Anthony’s response, cheering wildly for him. Finally Tom spoke up, “I didn’t know our kiss had the ability to save an entire planet (y/n)”.

Turning to him you nodded your head, “I don’t know, it was a pretty good kiss”. While Tom tried to hide a blush, all the fans went wild again. Unable to resist you added, “I mean..am I wrong here or?”.

That caused you and all of your castmates to erupt with laughter. Evans shimmied a little bit, “Ohh (y/n) I think his inability to answer the question means it was”. You didn’t know who was more excited, the audience or the interviewer.

Quickly she added, “ I think the chemistry between your characters is quite prevolevent, we see sort of a build up in the last film and now it seems to be exploding”. Hoping you weren’t alone with the millions of dirty jokes filling your mind you turned to Sebastian, and the look on his face made you realize you weren’t the only one.

Anthony was more blunt, “Y’all are getting very creative with phrasing nowadays…”. The interviewer smiled, and she was nearly blushing herself. You laughed a little, “I was afraid I’d been the only one picking up on the double meanings here”.

Reeling you all back in as if you were children Tom finally spoke up. His voice was soft, “No other character has had an immediate effect on Loki in the way (y/n)’s character has. I think Taiki did a wonderful job in the last film not only introducing her, but almost showing her through Loki’s eyes at some points”.

He finished his sentence with a warm smile as he held your gaze. You smiled too, “Working with Taiki was amazing, I think he’s the reason why my character was able to flourish in the way she did. The response I’ve gotten from fans is just incredible”.

Evans made a face, “That was sweet, but neither of you answered the question. Let’s be real, Loki wants to smash”. Once again the entire room, the stage included, was filled with laughter.

Chris patted Tom’s shoulder, “I mean sorry bro but I’m right aren’t I?”. As if on cue the entire audience shouted back “yes” to Chris, only encouraging him. An eager hush fell over the room as everyone waited to see how you and Tom would respond.

Tom adjusted his glasses, “I mean..that’s one way to put it Chris. I’d much prefer to say that the desire from Loki’s side  is definitely there, but he’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s another internal battle Loki has with himself; to indulge in his feelings or remain closed off”.

Chris rolled his eyes at Tom’s nearly poetic response, but soon found himself smiling. All eyes turned to you, waiting to see your take on things. You saw hundreds of phones in the audience, all recording your next words.

“While I feel that my character is complex, and still developing on screen, I think she has more freedom. While she shares having a rough past with Loki, she uses hers as motivation to not waste any of her present. Chris put it beautifully, she wants to smash”.

It was so entertaining to see everyone's faces during your heartfelt answer, and the watch their reactions change completely. Tom was shaking his head but there was a clear smirk across his face.

The panel went on and you and your castmates continued to enjoy yourselves. With the movie coming out in a couple days, everyone was less stressed about having to keep secrets. You loved teasing Tom Holland about his spoiling, but you could relate to his stress.

After the panel had finally finished you were all moved to a waiting room. Instantly Evans asked, “So what are we all doing later?”. Everyone began throwing out different plans, naming certain bars and clubs, but Tom was silent.

Quietly you asked, “Are you seriously not going out with the group?”. He laughed softly before turning his head towards you. He whispered back, “Love I hate to disappoint but-”. Maybe it was because of his last breakup, but he’d been in a funk.

You didn’t even let him continue, “Fine if you’re not going out then I’m at least not letting you stay in alone”. Before he could protest Chris repeated over the final plans for tonight, the group reaching their consensus.

You smiled, “I’d love to see what drunk shenanigans you all get into, especially you Chris, but I think I’m tapping out tonight. Rain Check on making horrible decisions we’ll all regret in the morning?”.

Chris raised one of his eyebrows as he tried to figure out why you’d say no, sure you weren’t the biggest drinker but you’d always been down to come along. After finally putting things together he grinned, “Sure thing kid, I have a feeling you’re gonna enjoy yourself anyways”.

While the group continued to talk about what tonight would entail, you continued to hold Chris’s gaze. When he knew no one else was looking he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and mouthed, “finally”.

Knowing exactly what he’d meant you rolled your eyes overdramatically mouthing back, “Fuck off”. Chris laughed it off, knowing full well that you were just joking. He was one of your closest friends, and he knew nearly everything about you.

Mundane things like your favorite color and time of the year, but more interesting things like your turn offs’ and ons’, and especially the fact that you had a major crush on Tom Hiddleston.

Preparing for tonight everyone went their separate ways, different security guards escorting everyone to their rooms and such. As the room became empty Tom turned to you, “Love are you sure you don’t want to go out with the rest of the group?”.

You smiled, “One can always get drunk, but spending a night discovering what the Tom Hiddleston thinks is fun is a once in a lifetime opportunity”. Once again he tried to hold back a smirk, but couldn’t.

“Hate to disappoint but my night is going to begin in my hotel room”. You didn’t back down, infact Tom had no idea how that was all you’d ever wanted to hear. Boldly you teased, “Normally that's where a night ends”.

It felt good to see him laugh, especially if it was from something you’d said. As the guards let you both to the elevators he softly said, “Darling you are trouble”. You watched him bite his lip, and you thought you were going to explode right then and there.

Within a minute or two you were in his room, a huge fucking bundle of nerves but trying to mask it. As he closed the door you asked, “So let me guess, we start the night off with some tea?”.

He chuckled softly, “I was thinking wine”. You gasped while placing a hand over your heart, causing him to laugh once again from your teasing. Tom sat down on the bed and began calling room service.

While you waited you continued to look around the room, well really it was more of like a mini apartment. Something you’d never get used to was the rooms marvel put you all up in, it was much more luxurious than needed.

Tom’s drink choice only made your nerves only worse. He’d been acting as if this was going to be some boring night, but here you were dressed to the nines in his hotel room about to order a bottle of wine.

After you heard him hang up the phone you turned back around to face him. With fake casualness you asked, “What's next on the agenda?”. You were starting to think you had no idea where this night was going to go.

Tom began taking off his tie, “First I’m getting out of this bloody suit”. For a moment you blinked, pretty sure you were just dreaming at this point. After realizing you were staring you nodded your head.

“Oh you don’t know the half of it hun”. With that you stepped out of your heels and began taking off your jewelry. By now his button up was hanging loosely from his body, “Well you look ravishing”.

You were leaning against one of the bureaus, while he still sat down on the bed. You felt lighter now with most of your outfit off, “I’m on to you Tom, and your whole gentleman act”. He raised his eyebrows at you, still playing dumb.

“Anything leaving that pretty mouth of yours is trouble, but the word ravishing? Makes a girl feel all kinds of things”.

Slowly Tom’s tongue ran over his lips, before he bit his bottom lip altogether. You heard a knock on the door but before you answered it you repeated, “Trouble”. Tom never felt more connected to Loki than in this exact moment.

He was having his own internal struggle right now; to finally let you know how he feels, or to fight back the most intense feelings of desire he’s ever experienced. Throughout this entire night he’d slowly been losing; inviting you up to his room, ordering wine for you both, eyeing you like you were a meal, but he couldn’t help himself.

It didn’t help either that you’d been teasing him nonstop, it was like you were begging him to make a move. Leaning forward while taking off your shoes giving him a perfect look at your cleavage, teasing him about where a good night ends, it was all getting to him.

After tipping the hotel staff you entered back into the room, “Alright Hiddleston, let’s get down to it”. You’d pulled him out of his thoughts, causing him to finally look back up at you. Walking towards him you placed down the two glasses on the nightstand, still holding the bottle in your hands.

Tom was apprehensive, “And what exactly is it?”. You wiggled your eyebrows making him smile. After you both laughed you got serious, “This funk you’ve been in. Is it because your last rela-”.

He shook his head, his ex was the last thing he’d been thinking about. She’s left his mind months ago, and hadn’t entered his thoughts since. You on the other hand had nearly consumed him.

The only thing that stopped him was that he was nearly twice your age, you were only twenty-three. You were young, playful, a complete tease, but the worst part was that your qualities weren’t just skin deep.

You were also everything he’d ever wanted emotionally; always so concerned about your friends well being, empathetic, incredibly funny, so wonderful to your fans, and somehow much wiser than most people his age.

Getting up from the bed you began to pour yourself a glass, “Look, you can get tipsy and tell me what’s wrong or you can tell me when you’re sober and skip all the awkwardness of the morning after”. He shook his head, if you wanted honesty he’d give it to you.

“You sure you want the truth (y/n)?”. You nearly spit out your wine, was he being serious? Sarcastically you asked, “What can I not handle the truth?”. Your reaction caused Tom to shake his head.

“Darling, I think you’re being a little naive. You still have some-”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, he was playing the age card. Sure you were younger, but hey you were older than Tom Holland!

You shook your head, “Oh so I’m too young and innocent now? What could you possibly have to say that my fragile little ears can’t handle?”. You could feel the moment escalating, especially with the look in his eyes.

His voice was sultry, “Oh love you’d be surprised”. You wanted to doubt him but the current look on his face sent shivers down your spine. Trying to regain your confidence you said, “Then surprise me”.

Tom got off of the bed completely, and started walking around the room. His tie had been loosely hanging around his neck but now he’d gripped it in his hands. It was like a prop, “For starters, you’re too seductive for your own good”.

God how did he make sex sound like shakespeare? Your eyes widened, “Tom what does that even mean?”. Sighing he ran his hands through his hair, he was trying to find the words. He looked to you again, “Do you have any idea of your affect on me? How flustered you make me in front of thousands?”.

As he continued he groaned, “God it just makes me want too-”. He stopped himself mid-sentence, knowing that he was going to shift the entire mood if he continued. By now he was standing in front of you, only inches away physically by a sea away mentally.

You looked up at him, “Makes you want to want? What does it make you want to do to me?”. He’d told you that you were playing with fire but you were calling his bluff. His voice was deeper now, “Little girls shouldn't play with fire”.

That sentence went right to your core. The thing was that Tom looked like he was enjoying himself while saying it, it was the most blissful he’d been in months. You licked your lips, “Are you afraid you’re going to take advantage of me somehow? I’m twenty-three years old Tom”.

As you continued you let one of your hands trail up your body, “You treat me like I’m some innocent fragile little girl, but I’m not as vanilla as you think”. Your response only seemed to amuse him more.

“Have you ever considered that I like that you’re older than me? I don’t want some little boy, I want a man. I want someone to take control, and satisfy my needs”.

His breathing was deeper now, any control he’d been clinging on to had now vanished. Leaning forward he placed his hands on either side of you, almost trapping your body. His voice was much deeper now, “Why don’t you really tell me what you want me to do”.

You leaned forward, “What? That I want you to fuck me like a real man? Pin me down and take me? I don’t know Tom, I’m so fragile and innocent I might break”. Your smirk was the largest it had been all night.

He let his hand trail softly down your cheek before gripping your chin tightly. Tom used his grip to tilt your head up and hold it firmly in place, “You little minx”. You licked your lips, you desire showing now more than ever.

“Look at you now, licking your lips inches from my throbbing cock. Is that what you want love, my cock wrapped around those pretty lips?”.

You nodded your head, convinced that if you tried to speak you’d just moan. Shaking his head he groaned again, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked. He’d never had someone look up at him so intoxicated before, and he imagined he’d been looking the same way at you.

Tom was letting himself go, finally indulging in ways he’d wanted too ever since your first scene together. He clicked his tongue, “As much as I’d love to see that, I think some payback is in order”.

To your surprise Tom got down on his knees before you, his face now level with yours. Slowly his hands ran up your thighs and pushed back your skirt, “Well darling, let’s hope you’re not this quiete for much longer”.

As you watched the smirk form upon his lips you knew his whole gentlemen act had finally been through completely out the door. You started to pull your dress off completely, “Be careful what you wish for babe”.

Using his grip on your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth. His tongue darted out of his mouth and swept across his bottom lip, “And I’m trouble?”. Together you laughed for a moment, thankful for how effortless this all felt.

Tom was amazed how you could so easily flow from making him smile and laugh to wanting to rip your clothes off and pin you against the nearest wall. He decided that he didn’t want to waste anymore time thinking, and finally start doing.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt​ @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl​ @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid​ @taeeemin@littleredstarfish @nali67​ @only4wakingup​ @mcenziehughes​

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

[whitleyschn33]

Ozpin and Ruby: Hypocrisy (Probably a Rant)

Yeah, you probably knew this was coming - as a fan of Ozpin that was very much not happy with how he was treated during the later half of V6, you can probably guess that I had a very bitter taste in my mouth when only 2 episodes in, Ruby told the exact same lies for the exact same reasons as Oz and the FNDM started trying to find every possible way that that wasn’t true, that obviously “Ruby is far more justified and has far better reasons to do so” than Ozpin did, and therefore not being hypocritical. 

Yeah, that’s a crock of BS, and I will go on to explain why in a bit, but first, got to make something clear.

As of right now, this isn’t necessarily an example of hypocrisy yet (stressing that yet there). As of now, there hasn’t been any episodes out to follow up on the thought process of Ruby in this and no chance for her to explain why she did it, so there is a chance that she will connect her reasons for doing this to Oz’s reasons to what he did, and realize that Ozpin was right (or at least justified) in not letting them in on every detail, which would mark this a sign of growth in Ruby’s worldview and a step towards reconciliation with Ozpin, rather than hypocrisy at its finest. 

However - the way that the stolen ship was handled (which I’m also itching to rant about) and the fact that there was no set-up to Ruby learning that Ozpin had reasons to do what he did (no talking with him, no example of trust backfiring in her face, nothing that would indicate her perspective of “we deserve to know everything involved” has flipped to “sometimes it’s necessary to be cautious with information”) makes me pessimistic on how this is going to be handled. The track record of the show so far makes me feel like this going to be played as an “It’s okay when we do it, and it’s totally justified cause we’re the protagonists” moment rather than a “Okay, we now see why it would feel necessary to lie or hold back information” moment of growth, and that makes my blood boil. I could be wrong, I hope I’m wrong, but as of writing this, I don’t have a lot of faith.

That being said, let’s get into the arguments (and if I miss one or you have another one, lay it on me).

The main one I’ve seen is that “The gang can’t trust Ironwood, so that makes them lying to him justified, but Oz should trust RWBY, so him lying is wrong and inexcusable.” That’s bull, though - Ozpin has no reason to trust RWBY whatsoever. We know that they’re (theoretically) trustworthy since they’re the protagonists, but from Oz’s point of view, these are just a bunch of random teenagers that Qrow dragged to his safe house and expected him to explain everything to, despite Ozpin not bringing any of them into the loop himself. With Team RNJR, he’s only familiar with Ruby’s background, and only met her at the beginning of the school year - JNR are all complete strangers he’s had no chance to vet. Weiss, Yang, and Blake literally just show up and attach themselves to the party - they all volunteer or invite themselves into the inner circle, and then expect Ozpin to trust them completely when he has no reason to. That’s what I think a lot of people forget - they volunteered for this. Ozpin didn’t seek them out; they showed up with Qrow and volunteered to help - volunteering before they could possibly know everything there is to know. Ozpin doesn’t trust them, and he has every right not to. We’ve seen firsthand that Oz is constantly betrayed, even by people he does come to trust and bring in. Lionheart is someone that Oz has known for decades, but still betrayed him the moment Salem came for him - while coming off the sting of that, why would he do something so foolish as to put his faith in these random teenagers? JNR and Blake in particular are people that he knows next to nothing about, and all have gaps in their pasts or faked records - any one of them could been an agent of Salem. RWBY and Co may not be able to trust Ironwood for good reasons, but Oz has equally good reasons for not trusting them. 

Another one I’ve seen is that “Team RWBY is risking their lives doing this - they deserve to know everything”. To which my response would be, well, that’s not entirely true. Ozpin has never actually lead them into a conflict zone. Haven was meant to be a safe place to recover and begin rebuilding defenses, I’ve already explained why the Grimm attack isn’t Ozpin’s fault, and everything that goes down in Argus is on tRWBY. The only thing Ozpin haves them do is continue training and hang around while they make sure the lantern is secure - Lionheart was supposed to be an ally, Haven was meant to be a haven. Ozpin has never asked them to head into the line of fire - all he’s asked is they learn and play defense while at Haven. 

But alright, though, I’ll play that game. Assuming that them risking their lives is true, then doesn’t Ironwood deserve to know everything? He’s not only risked his own life all this time, but as the head of the Atlesian military and currently concocting a plan that will draw the lives of all of Remnant into this conflict, shouldn’t he be told everything they know that could possibly be pertinent? Before Ruby lies to him, Ironwood has just laid out a plan that will throw Remnant into chaos and panic and result in many deaths, all for the end goal of finally mustering enough strength to destroy Salem - phrased another way, his entire plan hinges on the idea that whatever consequences that happen will be worth it when they destroy Salem. Ruby then proceeds to lie and not tell him about the part where them learning that, for all intents and purposes at this moment, Salem can not be destroyed is what drove Ozpin away. That is extremely important information that Ironwood, if for no other reason, needs to know since it’s the motivation behind everything he’s doing. At this moment, Ironwood has far more need to know this information than tRWBY ever has since he’s actually about to put himself, his military, and all the people of Remnant in the line of fire and the chaos of panic, but Ruby doesn’t tell him because.... why? She doesn’t trust him because of what’s happening in Mantle, which is being fueled by Ironwood’s current plan which she has the information to dissuade him from? Then telling him would be the right choice, and it wouldn’t come of as massively hypocritical. Gah, this entire situation is dumb.

Then there’s the fact that the first thing she lies about isn’t about the Relic, isn’t about what they’ve learned - it’s about why Oz isn’t there. Ironwood wants to speak with Oz, and Ruby lies about why that isn’t possible. You can make the argument that she’s lying to protect the last Relic question, or protect the information that Salem isn’t able to be destroyed, but that’s not what she’s directly lying about, those are a few steps down the line. What she initially lies about is why Ozpin isn’t present, and she practically cuts Oscar off to do so - and that comes off so much like her trying to hide what they did to Ozpin, and honestly? That’s what really makes me mad, because they have no right to hide that. If they’re so certain that what they did was right and justified, why hide it? Why cover it up? Is it possible you realize using the Relic against his will to dig into his past and trauma and then, when he was on the ground and crying after you forced him to relieve his own deaths and the death of his children, attacking him about it was a shitty thing to do? It feels so much like trying to hide what they did so they won’t face the consequences, and after all they did to Opzin for not telling them all of his mistakes and trauma? It’s so insanely hypocritical that I want to scream. 

Speaking of the Relic - lying about the Relic now, are you, Ruby? But I thought that was a no-no - after all, you all freaked out when you realized that Ozpin lied about the number of questions left and that was the driving motive for you to use the Relic on him. Why is it okay for you to do that when it wasn’t okay for Oz? “Well, we can’t trust Ironwood to not waste it/use it poorly -” Great! You just realized why Ozpin didn’t tell you! He couldn’t trust you all either, especially when the first thing y’all did after learning what it was was start trying to come up with questions to ask. So, same reason!

As I’m sure you can tell, the more I talk about this, the more ticked I get. All the justifications Ruby could have for lying to Ironwood are the same reasons Ozpin would have, but honestly worse, since it comes off as them not giving Ironwood the information he would need to stop his disastrous plan and hiding their own sins. It all seems so incredibly hypocritical, and if we don’t some kind of follow-up discussion of all of this, it will be. I want to think that CRWBY will find a way to make this a moment of growth and understanding, but they failed to properly set that up when Ruby switches from “we deserve to know everything” to “it’s okay to lie to people you don’t trust” without any reason that she may have come to change her mind on this between those two actions, and so far, the show hasn’t been batting a hundred with showing any consequences for the team doing something stupid. I want to be hopeful, but for now, it’s just left me feeling incredibly bitter.

Probably a poor way to end this, but I’m technically in class, and I feel like if I rant any longer, it will devolve into incoherent rambling, so - let’s just end it here.

[sanshineaus]

mingi : friends to lovers

warnings: none!

type: bulletpoint au, fluff

word count: 1989 (a lil short!! i’m very sorry)

a/n: as a san stan, we get fed content every 30 minutes and y’all mingi stans are the backbone of the fandom

you and mingi have a very sweet friendship, really

he and you would most likely die for each other

but also if he touches your charger you WILL kill him

you met through another friend, at their birthday party

right after you congratulated them and handed them their gift, mingi came around the corner and clumsily nearly spilled a drink on you

he still apologized though!!! AND offered to check for you if there was a drink anywhere

your friend laughed and introduced you two

'he's cute isn't he?'

oh boy was he!!!

he really was sweet too; you didn’t know anyone else but your friend and now, him, and he was nice enough to let you stick to him like glue

you even ended up exchanging numbers, and playing 8ball in your respective cabs when the party ended

from then on you began texting

and it grew into exchanging social media

to being inseparable in real life too

mingi would constantly bug you to go out and eat with him

and you’d frequently go shopping together (or window shopping. mingi just LOOKS stingy)

when your snap streaks had officially reached 420 days, mingi made sure to screenshot it and post it on all social media

as he did with any you content in general

and let’s be honest with ourselves— mingi’s a very, very beautiful person

so there was no shortage of people in his dms

most of which happened to be opening with ‘are you single’

because of your numerous posts together, it just didn’t seem likely

but really, you’d say ‘ew’ to that, because ew, that’s your best friend

who you’ve seen snotty crying over a picture of a particularly small puppy resting on a very large cat

and who has seen YOU snotty crying over the same picture but shhhh

you honestly think there’s no way you like him

your heart doesn’t palpitate around him or anything like that

(your chest just gets concerningly warm, so does your face and ears, and you have to take several gulps of air to compose yourself when he smiles. shhhhh)

EVEN if you did (which you don’t!) he wouldn’t like you back

he’s mingi

all mingi likes is dragging you out of bed by your feet

and making you regret giving him a spare key to your place

he’s in general grossly sappy, though

he fully understands that he’s cute and you detest it

because he ASKS you. he has the gall, the nerve to put on a silly cat, make a face at you in the store you’re in, and ask if he’s cute

and you want to say yes and laugh along with him but you settle for sighing and saying ‘sure’

but each and every time

he smiles

and it’s really rejuvenating. maybe an angel gets its wings or something. or fairies get born?

you two once debated over which of those two phrases is better, and you were the firm ‘fairy gets its wings’ believer

until he seemed a bit pouty and you decided to just merge the two

you have very stupid discussions

of the ‘do we belong in a circus’ kind

(yes, you might)

his very hidden talent is carrying a lot of mugs

mingi’s fingers are long, and he hangs the mugs off of them while maintaining focus

his record? 24 mugs

one of which broke while he walked from his room to the dishwasher

he was sad about it because it was a mug shaped like a bird

and you had to both comfort him and drive him in his tears to the store to get another one

to be fair, you also felt bad. so, so bad, because the mug was ADORABLE and you could tell mingi thought so too

but you got a Mingi Hug out of it later

when he thanked you, he really did go all out

(he put in no effort, he was just very huggable and it was very nice)

it was when you were very tired and on the brink of Death™ (you know, Death™, like when you just want to nap for 78 hours somewhere in a forest temple)

that you two decide to go to a 7/11

you both unfortunately have this thing called responsibilities so for whatever reason, neither of you can sleep

and so you offer to mingi to meet up at the store between your houses

to which he agrees, and asks if he can come over

to which you say no, but you also say YOLO™ and decide to leave your work in progress to meet up with your friend

(be gay do crime)

you don’t really do either, actually, you respectfully pay for your drinks and those packaged meals which are never as good at day as when they are at night

he insists you use the plastic bag you two had as a seat so your butt doesn’t get cold

and you do, but you also try and elbow his shin when he also sits down on the concrete

you are reminded of the ew feeling of seeing your best friend scarf down sushi like it’s soup

and he somehow manages to talk coherently about his stupid escapade which brought him to this point of meeting up with you

it’s so frustratingly endearing

because you know he’s enjoying himself if he doesn’t stop talking, and you know he’s comfortable around you

and that’s what makes you heart FINALLY flutter

it doesn’t take long for you two to depart, when you finish your own food and drink

and berate him a bit for not saving his drink for when he ended his meal and then stole a sip— no, a GULP from you

that night you give up on your project

(obviously not entirely)

but you’re certainly too busy to think straight

and lying in your bed with your heart beating quick is something you find pretty exhilarating

it’s actually pretty nice to like someone

because anything mingi does is fun, too

he gives you his jacket? perfection

he gives you a noogie? not AS perfect or ideal, but you’re happy he has you in a headlock because it’s a touch of human contact

and you like This human

he tries talking to you about what he would do if aliens landed

and you call him out on his bullshit, not because he’s wrong but because you love him <3 and he’s also wrong

he would NOT try and be nice to them, he’d immediately go in and look if there’s more species

“mingi would accidentally bring doomsday because he’d reject the flirting of an alien princess” yunho (who you met through mingi on the exact day of your 420 streak) adds, from somewhere near you guys in mingi’s apartment, and you absolutely agree

“marriage proposal? come on, i’d know!”

yunho looks at you, then at mingi, then back at you, and just shakes his head

and you feel offended because you’re aware of what yunho’s thinking

but mingi’s less on board

“are you saying they’re an alien princess?”

you argue that if you were an alien, you’d abolish the monarchy

but you also add that you’d rather be king if it came down to it

mingi is very insistent and it’s then when you realize that your heart is beating like that again

because he’s stood up and taken you with him to show to yunho that you’d make a terrific alien princess if only they put you in a sci-fi dress and crown

you want to put mingi in a sci-fi dress and crown all of a sudden, you don’t know : /

it’s prerogative you get more than one Mingi Hug

Mingi Hugs are a bit of an oddity

not because he doesn’t hug you often

it’s just that this is such a specific brand of hug that he reserves for moments of vulnerability

where he protectively wraps his arms around you, but places his head on your shoulder to hide his face

maybe he’s crying, maybe you’re crying, maybe neither is happening and he’s just grateful you’re there, but you’ve noticed he doesn’t do it as often to other people

it’s really cute, though

you’re sitting on your roof one night

not star gazing, mingi just said he read an article that said some phenomena will hit the skies

you tried to listen to him but he was so excited that explaining failed him and he just grabbed your hand to pull you out

(not that you were complaining, he was so gentle and cute)

you are lying down next to each other; and he’s pointing out constellations to you

you see some of them, others are less easy to spot, but every once in a while he rambles about something interesting he knew

but then it starts

you hear a sizzling first, and then a shot

and your sky is red… with a firework

after that, there’s another pound, the colour this time pink

it is pretty— colours exploding against the night sky is pretty

but what the hell? this isn’t a nebular event

it’s when you finally tear your eyes away from the sky to mingi to interrogate him that you see he’s already looking at you

and he has a very sweet smile on his face

“it’s our 500th snap streak day”

and you aren’t stupid, so you know he’s behind the fireworks, but

“why?”

and he lets out a very burdened sigh before he grabs your wrist, and places your hand in his

“it means i’ve liked you for 500 days”

there’s two emotions fluctuating all throughout

relief and joy

so you scoot over and let go of his hand so that you can swing your arms around his neck

his arms, for the first time, are loose, and you can absolutely hear the beating of his heart

the fireworks stop all of a sudden when your neighbour yells

but you ignore her so you can try and get even closer to mingi

you mumble that you like him too

however he hugs you tighter

and tells you he can’t hear you

but he DEFINITELY CAN AND HE’S JUST—UGHHH

so you decide to be even worse about it

and you y e l l it

now the whole neighbourhood knows you like mingi

though it does gradually grow into love

mingi’s a very caring boyfriend; after all, he was exactly the same as a friend

now with the added bonus of being able to kiss you

which is a power he abuses thoroughly

he gives forehead and temple kisses the most

and he’s a very terrible gremlin, so he sometimes holds your head only to bring it to his lips

or he’ll pick you up randomly

“can you tell i worked out?”

yes, you can, but you’re more focused on trying to land safely if he loses his grip

not that you don’t trust him

you trust him in every aspect of the relationship

he’s reliable— and also brings you food at inconvenient times of the day

plus you get to visit each other whenever

he likes doing animal face masks with you

and offers a bath every. time.

he runs some of the best bubble baths though, you can’t lie

he’s also very warm most of the time, so if you’re a heat sink… guess what! you no longer are!

mingi’s also very careful

he makes mistakes often; physically breaking things, sometimes he doesn’t know his strength, and so on

but he’s always ready to apologize and get you something new

he sometimes ends up going too far with a joke?

apology!

he’s very meticulous with it too. words mean as much as actions to him, and so there’s a lot of meaning in his apologies

he’s just cute

you’re both very cute but also a very annoying couple

pda? she’s your best friend

*yeosang cringes*

[ladymelissaduthe]

Challenge #2

aka The Fic Where Arin Gets Stuck With Missy In An Inescapable Location (voluntarily) and it goes bad

a/n: just had to churn this fic out BHJNJSDBJD and all I can say is... Missy sweetie, I’m sorry. Thank you Anna @arin-schreave for this monster of an RP,,, it be spicy JSDKNDJKDN AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA #arinschreaveisoverparty and the other thing I’d like to say is watch out for the next fic ;))))))) (5968 words)

I didn’t know this was going to be the worst first date I’ve ever had.

A note was sent to my room sometime in the afternoon while I was out for a walk in the greenhouse again.

It was a note asking me to meet Arin Schreave at the docks by noon the next day.

It was my first date with Arin Schreave.

I didn’t sleep at all that night, whatever feelings started clouding my head refused to go away, even at the dead of night.

Still, I was determined to show up at the docks, early, give my best smile and hopefully have a nice first date.

From the note, I guessed we were gonna go on a boat for this one. Why else would Arin ask me to meet him at the dock? So I dressed in one of my nicer beach dresses, the kind you save for the nice kind of beach side weddings.

It wasn’t difficult to find the docks, having just asked my maids and a few guards along the way if I was taking the right path down from the palace. It was a good fifteen minute walk to really prepare myself for it, or whatever awaited me at the dock.

Apparently what awaited me was a boat and Arin Schreave on the said boat with a couple of baskets in his hands. We were going on a boat.

I wave my hand, still too far to be heard, but I pick up the pace and get there with a smile. The sound of the water growing as I approached.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Schreave.”

Arin turns around and nods to me, “Good afternoon, Melissa.”

I watch as he gets off the boat and walks over to the dock, and holds his hand out to me. “I hope you’re alright with boats and water.”

“Well, if it’s between you and me, I don’t actually know how to swim.” I reply, pretty sure that I should tell him that first. Just in case. Nonetheless, I had a swimsuit in my bag just in case there were any plans to do anything close to the water.

I give him a smile, trying to make light of my lack of swimming skills. “but it’s not the first time I’ve been on a boat so I wouldn’t worry about it.” I let myself laugh just a little before taking Arin’s hand to get onto the boat. “How are you today?”

“I’m alright, it’s nice to get our of the palace.” Arin replies before letting go of my hand once I’m on the boat.

“That’s good to hear.” I look around the boat. It was one of those small yachts, more than just a boat. I look around, seeing a small kitchenette that lead to where the controls must have been. My eyes go back to Arin. He walks over to one of the deck’s seats and lifts up the cushion and taking out a bright yellow life vest and walks back to hold it out to me.

“Safety first.”

I take the vest, and slip it on. “I have to say though, the vest doesn’t quite match my outfit.” Laughing to myself just a little as I glance over to my reflection on a nearby window. It would have to do for now.

“Yes well, if you fall overboard I don’t think anyone would be concerned about you were wearing.” He says before motioning for me to come into the covered part of the boat.

“May I ask?” I turn back to Arin, “Do you usually get to do this kind of stuff? Get out of the palace, I mean.”

Arin turns to me from where he walked over to, looking like he was ready to pick up a glass.

“I’m sure if I really wanted to I could but recently I haven’t had the time. That being said, I wouldn’t mind more non work related outings.”

“Fair point,” I nod before following him over to the kitchen portion of the boat, “Glad to hear that you don’t actually think of this as a work-related outing. Anything I can help with?”

“Technically I guess it is.” He says before holding up an empty glass and wiggles it in the air for emphasis. “I’ve got it all under control. What can I get you to drink?”

I look at the glass for a moment, considering what I wanted. Did he mean… like a drink… or like… a drink-drink? I settle on the former.

“Would you consider me lame if I asked for water?” I feel a little sheepish asking for that, despite being surrounded by tons of it.

Arin gives me a confused look, “Why do you ask?” he bends down to pull a water pitcher from the fridge and filling the glass, holding it out to me.

“Thank you.” I blink, taking the glass from him. “It’s nothing. I just… usually get violent reactions about… always asking for water.”

I roll my eyes at an old memory, someone always insisting that I’d probably like other drinks if I didn’t just keep on drinking water all the time. Come on Missy, don’t you drink anything else?

“Well…” Arin trails off before walking up to the helm of the ship to grab a glass, quickly returning with a glass half full of water. “I did say safety first and I meant it.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I take a sip from my own water, and raise my eyebrow back at him.

“Didn’t quite expect safety first to mean that.” I say before shaking my head with a small laugh.

“What did you think I meant?” he takes a sip as well, giving me a curious look.

I gesture to the bright yellow life vest, the one that was complete tacky with my dress, clearing my throat. “This?” I let another a laugh out before looking over to the water.

“Is this boat headed anywhere in particular?” I hold my glass to my lips.

Arin nods. “Everyone has to be safe aboard L’etoile de mer. Those are the rules.” He sets his glass down on the counter. “We can go anywhere you like.”

L’etoile de mer. I think I knew what it meant.

I furrow my brows, “This boat is called The Starfish?”

He nods, “Yeah, it is.”

I think I catch him smile slightly at that.

Well… this was going pretty smoothly.

“Sounds a little different from how they say it back in Orleans.” I muse, while looking over to him. There was a local restaurant with the same exact name, Starfish themed decorations all over the walls. “El-toiLe day Mare.” I say it, emphasizing how we pronounced it over in Orleans.

“You speak French?” He raises his eyebrows when I say it.

“Conversational Louisiana French,” I bobble my head, smiling to him. “Kind of the broken more localized version of it back in Orleans. Didn’t quite put it in my application since I thought y’all were gonna quiz me on it or something.”

Couldn’t quite say that I was fluent in it, because I didn’t quite know how to write it. More like phrases and expressions passed down generations of natives of Orleans. Not the fancy un deux trois they’d teach you in schools.  

I laugh to myself at that thought, looking back to Arin.

“Oh,” his face turns into a slight frown, “Honestly? I didn’t actually read through any of the applications.” He tenses at the end of that sentence.

I instinctively raise a brow, “So you didn’t really know anything about me when we met?” I add a smile, making sure to let him know I wouldn’t feel offended if he said that.

“Nothing. Why? Should I go back and read it?” he crosses his arms.

So he didn’t know… much other than my name… Well, this was a good opportunity to introduce myself again.

“No need to, I can summarize it myself.” I clear my throat and straighten my back.

“Hi, I'm Melissa, Missy for short. I'm 20, I plan and coordinate weddings for a living in Orleans. I only read and write in one language and that's English.” I try to wrack my brain for anything else I placed in that old application I filled out more than a month ago. “Huh, I think that’s everything on the form.”

A part of me thanks whoever made that form for not including past relationships.

Arin nods, “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any application to summarize for you. But I’m sure Joogle would tell you all the same stuff and more.”

Come on, Arin… I was throwing you a bone to talk about yourself.  I always thought I was good at conversing with other people, and well, this was an easy way to get to know other people.

“Joogle talks about facts, not exactly what a person is like when you’re face to face with ‘em.” I sip from my water, sending him a curious look.

“Facts are important.” He gives me a pointed look. “Facts tell you the truth without caring about people’s feelings. I’m sure Joogle could give you much more straight answers about me than I ever could.”

Is.. he not used to talking about himself?

“Alright,” I look to him, still feeling a little hurt at that pointed look. “I guess I can Joogle something like, ‘what are things that make Arin Schreave smile?’”

Maybe I used the wrong tone for that. It was a joke to get him to lighten up a little bit.

Instead, I got the opposite.

“And unfortunately for you, you’d find out I’m too serious for my own good and I don’t know how to have a good time.” He stares back at me for a moment. Then he picks up his water, downing his water and setting it down with a clink.

I set my glass down.

That was… cold. My Grammy told me, if someone seemed like there was a thorn in their sides, it was always better to ask if they were doing alright. No matter what, trust your gut when it seems like something was wrong with someone. Ask them if they were alright.

It seemed like there was something worry about at what he said. Maybe… he was feeling stressed over something. What could possibly go wrong when you ask someone if they are alright?

“Arin…” my brows furrow, “Do you need to get something off your chest? Someone to talk to?”

I think I made a mistake asking him that.

All he did was let out a sardonic chuckle.

“Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Missy, all I need right now is for us to get this date over with. I don’t need a babysitter.

I suck in a breath. Jeez, that hurt. Even on a boat and in a life vest, there was a sinking feeling in my chest, and I couldn’t stop my hands from wringing each other.

“At least you’re really straightforward.” I reply, wanting to say more. I wanted to tell him… something, but I didn’t know what to say.  

Get this date over… so he didn’t want to be here…

So much for making a great impression during our first date. So much for actually having a chance of staying.

“Thank you for being honest.” I think I started feeling a lump form in my throat.

Arin shrugs then steps away from the counter.

“We should get going.”

He watches me for a moment before turning and walking to the helm, out of my sight for now.

I try to take another breath, trying to wish that dreadful feeling from my chest and throat. This sinking feeling. This lump in my throat. I reach up to swipe at my eyes, getting rid of the tears starting to form there. No one likes people who cry.

Come on, not all hope is lost.

Jackson told me that Arin was kind, this was just a bump in the road. A misunderstanding.

I take another moment to breathe, to regain my composure, making sure not to feel bad for myself, or at what he said before following him to the helm.

He was going around, turning switches on, the motor of the boat coming to life. It took another moment before he glances over to me.

“I need to cast us off.”

I try to move out of his way when he passes by me to get to the other end of the boat to do… whatever casting us off meant.

If he just wanted to get this over with… did he still want to talk?

Asking him if he was alright was off the table, or maybe personal questions in general.

I try to think up of a plan to get him to still talk to me, maybe it just takes some time for him to warm up to people.

I’m left to think about it for a long time, just watching him work around the boat. Pulling and tying up ropes, and carrying what he called buoys to other places on the boat. Not once talking to me… he was just busy with the boat. I tell myself.

But I hated it when I felt like someone was upset and I couldn’t talk to them. So when it seemed like he wasn’t busy steering/driving the boat in the captain’s seat, I tried to make another attempt to talk to him.

“Do you uh… boat often?” I ask, my left hand still fiddling with my ring.

Arin glances between me and the water, continuing to drive.

“Not really anymore. But when I was a kid we used to do this all the time.”

“You and the entire royal family?” I lift a brow at him. I should stop fiddling with my ring.

“Mostly us kids, my mom, and my grandpa.”

I try to talk to him more about it, trying to get him to talk about his family some more but… that conversation went nowhere. Literally nowhere, his attention seeming more focused on steering the boat, or pushing one of the levers that made the boat move faster.

Without meaning to, my hand grabbed the edge of his seat to steady myself. “Whoa there,” I stop myself from laughing, this was getting ridiculous, and I didn’t know what to do to actually keep this going.

Arin glances up at me, and takes a breath. “Sorry, I can go slower.”

“Thank you,” I let go of the seat, and fixing my footing so I wouldn’t topple over at the boat’s movement. “There should be more seat belts ‘round here.”

I suddenly felt the boat slow down, Arin looking over to me in confusion.

“Seatbelts?”

“I mean, what if… the boat was going really fast and suddenly stopped? Whoever was in the boat could be… thrown forwards. Just a thought really, when you said ‘safety first’.” I shake my head, dismissing the idea in my head. “It’s nothing. Just a thought.”

The boat seemed have slowed down some more.

“Well,” he seems to have hesitated before saying that, “if the boat suddenly stopped that would probably mean we’d hit something and in that scenario being thrown around could be dangerous, yes, but if something is defective with the seatbelt and can’t get unbuckled…”

I let my lips form a line, and nod.

“Another… unfortunate way to go if ever… that happens. But what’s the likelihood of that happening, right? Well both of those things.” I cross my arms to wrap them around myself.

The boat seems to have made a complete stop.

“We can go back if you want.” He says with a concerned look.

“No it’s alright. You said that you wanted to uh… get this over. Let’s just do this the way you planned it.” I try to give him a small smile, despite feeling uncomfortable. “I’m alright.”

This was fine, just… really awkward… not the way I planned things to go.

Arin shakes his head, “We don’t have to stay out here, Melissa. You aren’t obligated.”

I let out a breath, trying to just try to make the best out of this situation.

“Listen… I was pretty excited to go on this date. Though it hasn’t quite started out the way I would have wanted, I’m not exactly… assuming that this date is already a disaster and a hopeless case.” I lift a shoulder, before adding, “Sorry for trying to pry earlier.”

Maybe he just didn’t want to keep on talking about himself… which completely destroys the idea of a first date… but…

“You an be excited, no one is stopping you. And yes this is technically a date but…” he cuts himself off.

“But…?” I keep eye contact, trying to be as serious as I could be. “Arin, I don’t want to mince words here.”

That’s where I went wrong before.  I needed to know what was going on in that head of his so I could adjust.

“You can’t pretend like we just ran into each other getting coffee and I thought you were smart and cute and asked you out.” I watch him leans back in his seat, before meeting my eyes.

I nod at what he says, trying to understand what he meant to say.

“And yet, circumstance has brought us here nonetheless.” I reach up to rub my neck, while looking away. “I understand... this isn’t... the most traditional way to be on a date with someone. Trust me, I do.”

I think I would have taken the coffee shop option any day, but a part of me felt still clung to the idea of this being the fairytale romance I wanted a second chance with.

I try to make light of this situation again, “If it’s any consolation, I probably would have been the one to ask you out because I thought you were smart and cute.”

Sometimes I hate what comes out of my mouth.

All Arin does is shift uncomfortably and looks straight ahead, taking a deep breath.

I sigh to myself at that, “Sorry, I’ll just… stop talking now and try to not make this any worse.”

I wonder if they were going to let me keep some of my dresses when Arin was going to send me home tomorrow.

Silence. All there is silence from him until he turns to me again.

“Do you like fruit?”

I blink at that, nodding slowly.

“Of course I like fruit. I’m uh… vegan.”

“Okay.” He nods, “We have fruit.”

“Thank you.” I nod back. “Uh, what kind of fruit?”

“Um… they’re in the fridge.” He says before awkwardly standing up to look at me.

Oh thank God, an excuse to get out of here for a bit.

“That’s nice.” I take a step back, “Mind if I check it out?”

“Go for it… I’ll just keep an eye out for other boats…” He’s still standing in place.

“Other boats… Okie dokie, I’ll just be… in the kitchenette.” I take a few steps before wondering if he needed anything. “Do you want anything from there?”

“Uh huh.”

“Um okay? What can I get you?”

“Sounds great!”

He wasn’t listening, I look over to see him crouching from where he was and hiding. He was probably on his phone.

A part of me wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere else but here, but I was here and I had no where to go.

I move over to the fridge, trying to think of ways to make the best out of this. There had to be something good to come out of this.

Arin is kind, remember that above all things.

He just needed time to warm up…. At least… I thought so.

“What would Grammy do?” I mumble to myself, crouching down to the open fridge door, grabbing some apples and oranges.

Grammy would probably have pushed him off the boat, if he was a normal boy. This wasn’t a normal date, and Arin wasn’t a normal boy. Plus, I’m pretty sure, his bodyguard was somewhere we couldn’t just see him.

I couldn’t do anything but grin and bear this. I signed up for this after all.

Suddenly, I hear the door open and I tense. I signed up for this. My eyes grab a few more fruits before setting them all on the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see him sitting down on the seats close to the edge of the boat’s open area.

“Arin, are there any knives I can use to slice these fruits up?”

Just the sound of the waves.

“Arin?” I call again, to no response. Well I guess I wasn’t going to slice these up. I decide to just wash what I could and dry them before putting the fruits I got on a platter I saw close to the sink, and head over to him at the deck.

“Hey… uh, you didn’t say which fruit you wanted, so I just… brought uh… a sample of each one that was in the fridge.”

He seems to look up in surprise as I walk over.

“Oh… I…” he looks around before looking back to me. “Anything is fine.”

“Okie dokie,” I nod my head.

“I’ll just…” I place the platter on a nearby table close to him, “leave this here.” I curl my lips in before reaching to pick up the sole orange and find a seat not too far from him, but enough space for a bob sled team.

“So… what did you have planned…?” I ask, taking my seat.

He takes his time to look at me for a good moment. Were all my conversations with him going to be this awkward?

“Honestly? I didn’t have a plan. I’m not really someone who dates.”

The boat just sways slightly as the ocean moves the boat ever so slightly up and down.

I just nod at that, my hands peeling my orange. “Same here. I mean… huh… it’s just been a while.”

It’s been seven years, actually. That felt like a lifetime ago. I shake my head remembering that, bringing a piece of the orange to my mouth to shut myself up.

“Well, then at least we’re in the same boat.”  He says before going silent, then chuckling out of nowhere.

I try to not laugh, stifling my own laughter. I didn’t even know if I was allowed to laugh around his presence.

“In more ways than one, I suppose.” I eat another orange slice, nodding once. If he only knew.

Except I didn’t act like a stick in the mud after my fiancé left me.

“Boat for boat?”

“Hm?” I turn to him, slightly confused with what he said. “Sorry I didn’t quite catch what… you said.” More of what he meant.

Arin waves it off and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He says before running his hands through his hair.

“So you like oranges?”

Why was he asking me all these fruit related questions? Well… talking about fruits was something.

“They’re fun to peel.” I nod slowly before lifting my orange peel, staying in one piece.

“But so are bananas.” He raises an eyebrow at me, leaning over to grab and pick up a banana.

“So you prefer bananas?” I ask, eating another orange.

Bananas… were alright… I suppose.

Good with ice cream.

“The have potassium and you’re less likely to choke.” He says before beginning to peel the banana.

What orange fact did I know??

I lift a piece of my orange, “Fiber and Vitamin C. The peels are nice to turn into candy too.”

“All fruits have their merits.” He then sinks back into the cushions of his seat.

“Yes they all do.”

That was my third… fourth? Conversation that went nowhere.

I look out to the water, finishing my orange, my hands going back to fiddle with my ring. This was nice… the set up… but… it seemed like a logistical nightmare.

“I have a question.” I say out loud.

“Hm?” Arin’s eyes are still closed when he says that, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

“Why’d you choose a boat ride for our ‘date’? I mean… was it… randomized?” I tilt my head, how am I supposed to phrase this. “I’m just… curious with what the logistics behind this whole… process is like.”

Arin opens his eyes, finally looking over to me, blinking at the sun’s brightness “I didn’t pick it, it was picked for me. So I don’t really have an answer for you on how or why.”

I feel my brows furrow when he says that.

“So that’s why you’d wanna get this over…”

I suppose I was just another name to check of whatever list they had.

“No,” he says, eyeing me cautiously. “I said I wanted to get it over because there’s no point in treating this like it’s a normal date.” His eyes glance down to the banana in his hand. “But for what it’s worth, the boat was a nice touch. I’ve got to hand it to them.”

Easy for him to say that.

“So how do you want to approach this then?” I prop my head on my arm, looking over to him. “An extended lunch meeting?”

I think I wanted this date to be over more than he did, but I still badly wanted to stay… in the Selection. But this Selection wasn’t the fairytale I was hoping it to be.

“We could, but something tells me that’s not you want.” He looks back to me, and raises his brows.

Oh he was concerned with what I wanted know.

“From what I reckon, the two of us had very different expectations from this.” I lift my shoulders and dust my hands. “I’d rather negotiate with how we’re going to go about this ‘date’, just to make sure I’m on the same page as you are.”

I felt tired, having to play mental gymnastics trying to make sure things were going well. Might as well ask him what he was expecting to manage my own.

“So then, negotiate.” An amused but expectant look appears on his features before he takes another bite of his banana.

I can’t believe I was actually making negotiations about this date… during the date itself.

“Alright,” I clasp my hands on the table in front of me. “So do you want me to avoid all personal questions? You definitely seem like I touch a nerve every time I seem to ask a question about you.”

Literally… every personal question ended up at a dead end, or him having snapped at me.

“I don’t see how you could possibly do that.” He finishes his banana and chews it, looking like he was thinking something over.

“Well I could try.” I argue with a sigh, wracking my brain. Saying the first thing to pop up in my head. “Do aliens exist? What’s wrong but sounds right?”

All I get is a look from Arin, as if I was insane.

“You want to talk about aliens? Really?”

He stands up.

I try to not groan.

“It’s better than nothing. Are you gonna try to dismiss every single thing I try to suggest to you?” I meet his eyes, wanting to say some more choice words, feeling myself tense.

“What do you want from me, Melissa?”

For the nth time, people call me Missy. Could he stop calling me Melissa?

I feel my brows knit.

“I don’t even know what I really want from this, from you.” I admit, blinking a couple of times. I didn’t know what I wanted from this anymore, now that I’m here.

I came here because I wanted to fall in love with someone again.

I stand from my seat, and head over to one of the rails, leaning over to watch the water. Was it too much to ask for another chance?

I hear Arin move around, and I can’t help but not ignore my left hand twisting on my ring.

“What exactly were you hoping for? A whirlwind romance?”

I just wanted to feel the butterflies in my stomach firsthand again. I missed… that kind of happiness.

The attention of the Selection felt good at first.

Daniel must be kicking himself. I heard my mama say to me one day after my name was announced.

The only person kicking themselves right now was me.

I think I wanted to cry right now.

I turn to Arin, “Something like that, yes. Guess fairytales about this whole Selection thing just really do stay in those books.”

I grew reading about the previous Selections, almost knowing the names of every girl who was picked as The One in the Selections past. I studied them since people wanted weddings like those.

America, Alize, Annelise, Eloise, Danielle. They all seemed happy in their wedding pictures.

“I think you mean fairytales in general.” I hear Arin step closer, and I catch him shove his hands in his pockets from the corner of my eyes.

“Between you and me, I thought this was my second chance with the whole fairytale schtick.” I shake my head, the thought of Arin and fairytale romance? The more time I spent with him, the more those words disassociated themselves from each other.

“Well then, it seems like you and I are very different people.”

I think out loud, “Surround yourself with happy couples on the road to happily ever after every day.” I lift my shoulders.

For all the secondhand butterflies I’ve had from weddings, there was always the tiniest pang of jealousy. I could have had a day like that. Why didn’t I deserve to be that happy?

Maybe a part of Arin wondered that too.

I wait a quiet moment and debate if I should ask Arin something about his own expectations out of this.

“What do you want out of this, then?” I look to him. This date was already going up in flames, might as well try my best to make sense of it, and this whole Selection experience. “I mean this whole Selection.”

“Nothing.”

Nothing.

He wanted nothing.

For someone who had a say in this, that was a pretty sad answer.

I wait for a beat before I nod my head once.

“You’re less likely to be disappointed then.” I reply, pushing back some of my stray hair blown by the breeze.

“Maybe you’re right. But I think I’ve only been disappointed more.” He says walking to the railing to my right and leaning against it.

I move a little to give him some space, but look over to him.

“Even without expectations, this isn’t exactly how you thought this was gonna turn out, huh?”

I wondered what he genuinely expected out of this? Make his ex jealous? Find a rebound?

“This was never part of the plan.” His eyes stay on the water as he says that, looking like he’s thinking. I leave him to his thoughts so I could go over my own.

With what he’s been saying… with how’s been acting towards me… it made me really question: What was his plan…

“This was my grandpa’s boat.”  

“Was King Raja the one who named this the L’Etoile de Mer?” I ask.

Arin looks to me, “No, he wasn’t. I never really knew him. I mean my mom’s dad.” His eyes go back to the water.

“Do you wish you knew him?” My eyes don’t leave the water either when I ask that.

He stays still for a moment before he shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

I nod my head at that. “Then it’s not much of a loss on your end.”

The idea of not knowing your grandparents was sad… at least if it was me.

“I was mostly raised by my grandparents. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without them.” I share, while we were on the topic. I mean I was raised by my mama and daddy too, but they had me when they were young.

Grammy and Pappy felt... more like parents to me.

“Well, then yours were much better people than mine were.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wanted to ask why it seemed like that to him when he was the one who brought up his grandfather.

We’re back to our regularly scheduled silence in between conversations, until I see him move away. Maybe he was going over to the controls to bring us back. No, he was staying in one place.

I turn to him, before I realize that he was actually unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh,”

I feel heat rise to my face, and I turn back to facing the water. For good measure, I place my hand to cover my peripheral vision from seeing him. “Uh, sorry.”

“I forgot.”

“Well, uh?” I blink, peeking to see him having dropped his hands to his side. The heat from my face not going away. “Is it safe to swim around here?”

“It should be. Why? Are you worried I might feed you to the sharks?” I see his brows raise at me.

“For all I know, that’s how you plan on eliminating me.” I look over the water again. If he was going to insist on swimming around these parts. “Can you teach me… how to swim…?”

“I promise you that I didn’t murder anyone who has been sent home so far.” His fingers go back to his buttons. “I’m sorry?”

My eyes widen before spinning on my heel to turn back to the water.

“Sorry.” I cover my line of sight to his direction again with my hand. “I suppose I’ll just float with this on… if ever.” Was he really going to swim? In OPEN water?

“You can learn how to swim but I don’t think the open ocean is the place to start.”

I snap my fingers with my free hand, “Fair point.” My other hand was still up to cover myself from seeing him. “Sorry we can’t go swimming right now.”

“Who knows, maybe there was a hugry shark down there and you just saved us both from being eaten.”

I peek over to him, was that… the hint of a genuine smile?

“Safety first on the L’Etoile De Mer, right?” I reply, still eyeing him… and that smile.

He laughs, “Well in less than a day you’ve already learned something my mom hasn’t learned in 50 years.”

I give him a look, sort of weirded out at him laughing.

“And that is?”

“That safety is very important.”

I can’t help but let a laugh out at that.

“Hard to believe that your mother wouldn’t think of safety as important.”

Arin blinks at that. “I’m guessing you haven’t met her yet.” He says before looking out to the water again.

I shake my head. “She’s away, isn’t she? Some tour abroad, right?”

“Oh,” Arin frowns, “I meant my mom. I don’t call the queen mom.”

Oh…

I look away in my embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. I thought... you called both of them... I mean... your mom and the queen... uh... mom. Sorry.”

That was… a stupid assumption.

“No, the queen isn’t mom.” Arin explains as he leans back against the railing. “Mom is the princess.”

“Duly noted.” I reply, mentally kicking myself

A massive sigh comes from Arin.

I sigh mentally to myself. This date couldn’t already get any worse.

I was almost certain I was going home soon, and the only bright side to it was that I wouldn’t have any more painfully awkward conversations like this with Arin Schreave.

[signoraviolettavalery]

tsumichama replied to your post “I guess I’m super upset at the people who think Michael should fucking...”

I'm personally not mad at Michael for 1x13 (it's Maria I'm mad at for that). I'm mad at him for how he likes to shift the blame for why he and Alex can't work out. Alex hurt Michael and he KNOWS and ADMITS it. Michael though? My perception is that he acts like he's never did/said anything wrong to Alex and it's Alex who keeps hurting him. So yeah, unless that changes, I'm not really on board with the ship ��

You really are all missing my point so spectacularly, aren’t you? 

Seriously, let me clarify

me: both Alex and Michael have made mistakes, need to take responsibility for them, are not beyond forgiveness, stop pitting them against each other

y’all: well Michael did THIS and it’s worse because THIS and Alex did THIS which makes him BETTER, and therefore Alex is ahead of Michael in this whole blame game

But also, like, from a purely technical standpoint, Alex may know he hurt Michael, but I’m not sure where this “admitting it” idea is coming from? He admits he shouldn’t have left in 1x13, but he...doesn’t actually apologize for it? He says “I”m tired of walking away” but that’s not actually an apology? “I’m tired of walking away” is deeply vague as a commitment to not doing it in the future after ten years of having done it, especially if it’s something Alex then does, again, that same episode. Alex was an asshole to Michael at the drive-in and they never talk about that? Alex was kind of an ass when he said the world ends with a whimper, then showed up with no apology, demanding all of Michael’s secrets, and doesn’t apologize for that even if he regrets it? Alex runs off after he learns about Michael’s spaceship and they never talk about it and he doesn’t acknowledge it, just shows up and asks Michael to come to Caulfield? Alex has grown so, so much, and we’ve seen that growth, and he’s trying to do better, and he has done better, but there’s still a lot of explicit and clear communication that’s missing. Which I’m sure will come, as Alex continues growing, but it hasn’t yet. 

And yes, Michael also needs to apologize for the Manes man comment, for his jabs at Alex about walking away when his father got into his head, for the Maria thing and leaving Alex hanging, etc. But to say Michael acts like he never did/said anything wrong? Where are you getting that? Did you see Michael’s face when he admitted “if you were the reason Alex went to war, I’d hate you?” He thinks he’s the reason Alex went to war and he hates himself for it. He carries so, so much guilt. And, fun fact, Michael’s exact phrasing in 1x13 was “coming back to him is always like a crash landing.” It’s a very .... responsibility neutral phrase? That’s saying that things with Alex are complicated and they hurt, but it doesn’t say that Alex is solely responsible for that hurt. And then there’s “he’s tied up in all these bad things that happened to me.” That’s not blame. That’s saying that Alex was present for or involved with the bad things that happened to Michael (he was present in both the toolshed and Caulfield and tied up with them because it’s his family coming after Michael). But if you so much as suggest that Michael blames or resents Alex for the toolshed, I will turn into the actual Hulk. Michael lost his music for ten years and never said a word to Alex about it. This is a man who was permanently maimed because Alex took him to a place that wasn’t safe (the toolshed) and Michael has never, ever shown a single ounce of resentment for it. In fact, if Michael blames anyone for what happened in the toolshed and for Alex enlisting, it’s probably himself, because he couldn’t protect Alex. 

But also, if you don’t want to ship Malex because you think one is so utterly horribly worse than the other....okay? That’s really not my problem. I utterly don’t care. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of happier, purer ships to ship, there’s tons out there.