Honestly, the biggest proof that Mike doesn’t love El romantically and that they’re gonna break up for me has always been the talk Mike and Will have after burying the cop.
First, Mike says:
“I should have explained myself. Because maybe Eleven would have taken me with her and things would be different but… I didn’t know what to say.”
This is about him not saying I Love you to El, right? And before this he had already stated that if he had said that thing El would have taken him with her.
So first the issue was him not saying the thing. Now the problem is why he couldn’t say that thing, he says he should have explained himself to El, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to explain to her why he had been signing with “From” instead of “Love”.
And then Will goes: “Sometimes I think it’s just scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel. Specially to people we care about the most. Because what if they don’t like the truth?”
The emphasis Will makes on the “really” implies that Mike can’t say he loves El because what he really feels is different (maybe love, but not… romantic). Then he goes on to say “what if they don’t like the truth?”
So, the monologue solved this by saying that the problem was that Mike couldn’t say I love you to El because the day she left him was going to hurt more… but that doesn’t make sense, that doesn’t explain why El wouldn’t like that truth. Because, after all, Mike is saying that he loves El, wich is what she wanted.
So, a truth El wouldn’t like, something that Mike really feels. One thing he doesn’t know how to say because he can’t explain it.
What could it possibly be other than something that will cause them to break up next season?
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There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.
Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.
“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.
“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”
“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.
He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.
“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.
“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”
“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”
“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”
“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”
“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”
It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.
“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”
Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”
“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.
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Summer camp AU, part 13!!
July 13th <3
Owl - @jegulus-microfic - words: 914
First part Previous part
Letting his eyes glide over the skies, he looked behind him to check the kids were still following along. It was late, the once clear sky started to turn a dark blue. The activity was to go for a night walk, find a nice place in the woods that wasn’t too far from the main camp, and teach the teens how to start a fire.
Much to Regulus’ disappointment, James stood at the back while he stood forward, guiding everyone to the spot that he and James walked to yesterday to check it out. They’d set up some fairy lights, lay down some blankets and packed tools in their bag to start fires.
The distant sound of an owl hooting echoed through his ears, getting louder and softer until it stopped.
He weaved the silver chain strung his dark coloured jean shorts through his hands, feeling the cold metal brush against his hot skin, narrowing his eyes to see the distant glow of fairy lights through the towering trees.
Suddenly, he heard a weight drop into the grass next to him, the heat of a body and a wide smile looking up at him. “Hi!” June grinned ear to ear.
“Hi June.” He spoke in a softer voice than normal. He wasn’t one to play favourites, but June reminded him so much of himself when he was younger, struggling with gender identity in a household like the one he grew up in was definitely a challenge. He would always be so thankful to his friends for helping him transition after he left, leaving was by far the best decision he’s ever made. “How are you?”
They hummed. “Alright…” They trailed off.
“What?” Regulus asked sceptically.
“Oh nothing.” June waved their hands in the air dismissively, leaving a few moments of silence before looking behind at where all the other students walked, and then back at Regulus. “You just kept looking behind yourself, looking really fucking depressed might I add, then sulked off again.” They shrugged.
Regulus felt his eyes widen, a noise of offends escaping his mouth. “Hey! Don’t analyse me.” He retorted. “And I’m not sulking, don’t be nosy.”
“Okay!” They raised their hands in surrender, a smirk still lingering on their lips. “If it helps, James is wearing the exact same expression.”
“What-“
“Bye!” They jogged off with a wave.
“-The fuck.” He finished after they left. “I hate kids.” He grumbled.
-
The lights were glistening, the fire hissing, the owls hooting and James Potters eyes shining. It was beautiful out, and in Regulus’ opinion, James’ face only added to that.
They sat together, legs entangled together far more than they actually needed, ignoring the fact that they had a whole blanket to themselves.
Gladly, the kids had managed to start some small fires, then James gave in and lit a bigger one so everyone could roast their marshmallows.
“Have you ever roasted skittles on a fire?” James spoke out of the blue.
“Excuse me?”
“Have you ever-“
Regulus coughed out a laugh. “No I heard you the first time, James. But of course not.” He rolled his eyes, emphasising his point with a gag.
“It’s actually very nice, Regulus!”
“Abomination.”
-
They carried on like this all night, bickering, laughing, throwing random bits of food and leaves at each other while they waited for the time to pass.
Now, Regulus sat lay on his back while James made sure he could still see the teens. He looked up at the full moon, it was dotted through the leaves of the trees but still quite visible and as bright as ever before.
He rolled his head to the side slightly, catching sight of James’ veined dark hands spread out on the blanket next to him. Every now and again he’d shift, playing with his rings and fiddling with his hands randomly. All Regulus wanted to do right now was place his hand atop the older boys, but he couldn’t just do that.
So he just waited, he wasn’t sure what for, but he did anyway. Maybe for James to look at him, all so he could make a snarky comment because he doesn’t know what else to say, but James seems to weirdly like it, so that works in his favour.
It wasn’t until James turned his head to look directly at Regulus, catching his eye and holding it with his hazel doe irises for a few seconds before reaching that same hand out to him.
The coolness of his fingers combed through Regulus’ hair. It was quick, but soon James grabbed a leaf and held it up with an amused expression on his face.
His tan skin was engulfed with the light of the flames before them, highlighting even the tiniest of details and turning his eyes a whole new colour which Regulus decided was so utterly gorgeous.
James reached another finger out, brushing the loose curl of Regulus’ raven hair behind and tucked into his overly pierced ears. He gave a proud smile, nodding and tossing the leaf on the floor.
“There, that’s better.” He spoke softly, clearly not aware to the awe struck wonder on Regulus face, and the red flush that was certainly not from the heat of the flames. Even the way Regulus froze and watched him smile and hum along to a random song, and James just chuckled.
God, this man was oblivious, because Regulus was sure he was doing a pretty shit job at hiding this.
Next part
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