#- (he later realizes he was misinterpreting his feelings. i might make a full on post on him at some point to go more in depth abt this)

[henriiiii-1001]

omg speaking of lesbian ruth:

ive also made that canon to unholy gift/my main au, and i would think it would be so funny that puppet is like "you want me soooo bad" and ruth just pulls out the lesbian flag

like

"reason no. 1: you're an alternate, im not interested in that. reason no. 2: you're a guy, im not interested in that."

[everythingsinred]

Let’s Talk About NatsuMikan: Mikan (pt. 1)

Hey there, everyone. You might remember that more than a year ago I had posted Gakuen Alice essays about NatsuMikan related to both the anime and Natsume’s manga perspective. The Natsume one in particular was met with a surprising amount of feedback (for a fandom as small as ours). People told me my essay inspired them to reread the manga and helped them better understand Natsume’s character. I was also able to share some great music. So back by popular demand is ME! Talking for an agonizingly long time about a ship from a manga series that ended a decade ago! In excruciating detail!!!

This essay is even longer than Natsume’s because Mikan is the main character and this manga is about her, and also because I don’t have a life.

Less triggering material than in Natsume’s essay at first, but it’ll get dark pretty quick because... That’s how GA is. Hehe. Be warned.

Next ->

It’s time for the long-awaited final part of my three-part NatsuMikan analysis! Finally we can crack into Mikan, the surprisingly more elusive half of this pairing. The first part detailed their relationship in the anime. The second and third parts are about manga!NatsuMikan. It had to be split into two parts because I wanted to discuss each character’s individual journey of falling in love and I didn’t want it to be confusing. I started with Natsume because it was the easier one and I figured it would be shorter. Mikan would be a bit more challenging because she’s naive, sometimes even to her own feelings, and frequently misunderstands Natsume. 

From her point of view, Natsume is a wishy-washy mess. He’s confusing, conflicting, overwhelming. It takes her a while to fully understand him and even longer to realize her feelings. 

Here’s a disclaimer right at the start so I don’t have to address it later: I only ship Mikan romantically with Natsume. I’m not a multishipper and don’t really care much for the love triangle in the manga to begin with (I’m bored with the premise that “everyone is in love with Mikan!”; it’s honestly tiresome). Because of that, I won’t be discussing romance with other characters unless it’s to discuss her agency and choice. I could explain why I only ship her with Natsume, but maybe that will become evident in this essay. To be clear, this is just my personal opinion. I’m not saying other ships are good or bad; they’re just not for me and I won’t be discussing them here, to their benefit OR detriment. It’s just not relevant.

To be honest, this was the analysis I’d wanted to do from the beginning. I’ve been rereading Gakuen Alice over and over again for twelve years now. Each time I read it, I discover something new: whether it’s a funny easter egg or a panel I hadn’t paid much attention to before, there’s always something that had escaped my notice. No matter how many times I reread, there’s always something to discover. It’s why I never want to speak with full authority on anything. I could have always missed something, or misinterpreted something, or been left oblivious to something because of low-quality scans. 

One aspect of the manga that I only started focusing on relatively recently--surprisingly--is Mikan’s feelings for Natsume. When it comes to their relationship, Natsume’s half is more outwardly romantic (to us). He’s so goddamn obvious it’s impossible not to notice his affections. He’s the one smiling sweetly (and we discussed that his smiles are rare currency) at her, sacrificing things for her, going out of his way to protect her. He’s so glaringly apparent about his feelings that it’s difficult to imagine how Mikan could remain oblivious to them for so long. Moreover, because of how obvious and obnoxious Natsume is about his feelings, Mikan’s side of things is easily lost in the mix. How and why she starts falling in love with Natsume doesn’t seem as central, or even important. What matters is that they end up together. It makes sense then that Natsume would be the focus on NatsuMikan shipping. He just makes it too easy.

A few years ago, when I was about seventeen… so like seven years ago, my focus on my reread was on Mikan. How did she feel? How come she chose Natsume over her other options? What is it about her, and what is it about him, and what is it about them that leads to her loving him so much? Ever since that reread, my understanding about NatsuMikan has shifted and deepened. Mikan’s perspective in this relationship is what I’ve been preoccupied with for years and hopefully writing this essay will bring even more new details to my attention.

Mikan’s love for Natsume is about discovery, understanding, maturation, forgiveness, comfort, negativity, and agency. Natsume never “plays the game,” he never fights for her affections. He never intends on being with Mikan. She falls in love with him on accident and by choice and against his will and despite his every flaw.

Again, just like with Natsume, before we start discussing how she falls in love with this boy, let’s explore a little about Mikan and what makes her the person she is. As per my last essay, we will talk about the individual outside of the pairing because it’s important to understand the characters on their own if we’re going to properly analyze how they work together. 

Mikan

She is the most Babey character of All Time.

Sakura Mikan is a fifth-grader from the countryside. She lives a pleasant rural life with her grandpa. It’s not explored right away but we know that she never knew her parents and assumes that they are both dead. It’s a source of sadness for her for sure, but Mikan doesn’t start the story off as a traumatized and melancholy character (she’s not Natsume). 

She’s pretty simple, because she’s a child and she’s the one character in the main four who actually acts like one. She’s upbeat, optimistic, naive, sporty, and uninterested in academics. She misunderstands things, is quick to emotion, and is “stupid,” causing her to be frequently confused and also to move on from conflict pretty easily. She smiles all the time because she doesn’t have much reason not to. Life for Mikan is, for the most part, fun and delightful, like it should be for every kid.

The tumultuous first few months of her birth that she spent on the run with her mother probably had some sort of effect, of course. My sister Zoe knows more about psychology but she’s told me that everything that happens in your life, even in infancy, has an effect, even if you don’t remember it. What exactly that effect might be in Mikan I couldn’t say, so I can’t say for sure that Mikan doesn’t know what suffering is at the start, or that she has no problems at all.

When it comes to her guardianship, we can see right off the bat that Jii-chan probably rubbed off on her a lot. He’s also quick to emotion, with a quick temper but a mostly sweet disposition, just like her. She has a lot in common with him and throughout the manga, she thinks back on his teachings and he’s her one constant wish from the beginning: to see him again. (We’ll get more into that later, of course.)

There’s an omake after Chapter 100 (and just like Natsume’s essay, this will be ordered chronologically, not by the order or events in the manga) that recounts a scene from Mikan’s childhood, when she’s five years old at a lantern festival with her Jii-chan. The festival is about honoring dead ancestors, and intuitive Mikan figures out that she’s meant to be honoring her own deceased parents, even though her grandfather skirts the topic. She somehow ends up on a test of courage, having volunteered to collect party favor bags for her friends, even though she’s usually quite scared of ghosts and her grandpa told her tests of courage were disrespectful. 

Nobody does “volunteering for stuff I don’t wanna do” quite like she does...

If we imagine this to be a foundation-building moment for Mikan, we can use it to learn a lot about her. For one, we can see that she values her grandpa’s words. He told her tests of courage were “impudent” and she trusts that he’s right. She doesn’t want to rebel against his word. Next, we can see that she is kind. Even though she knows what her Jii-chan thinks, she’s willing to make an exception so that her friends can get their goody bags. She wants a treat for herself too of course, but there’s a reason why she volunteers instead of pressuring another girl to go. Then we can see that Mikan is cocky. She insists that she’s not scared even though she looks nervous. She puts airs on like this sometimes, as if she believes in the phrase “fake it ‘til you make it.” And finally, we know that, despite her fear, she wants to not be scared because she is sure that her parents are among the ghosts out tonight. We can see that there’s a connection she wants to make, and that’s one more reason why she might have decided to do the test of courage.

She is immediately abandoned by the other kids who are too scared to continue. She’s left to her own devices and she almost starts to freak out until she consoles herself, telling herself that she’s not scared of ghosts. She collects the bags for the kids and thinks back on what her Jii-chan told her. She then even calls out for the ghosts, for her parents. She stays out for a while until Jii-chan finally finds her in tears. He misunderstands that she must have been scared, but the truth is Mikan was moved in a way she can’t explain. 

Come, come, Ghost.

This moment captured in the omake is important because we can see that Mikan, even as a child, does have some depth to her. She’s not all naivete and cheer. She has a yearning for the “ghosts” she can’t reach, for the parents she never had. She loves her Jii-chan and never complains about not having parents, but she obviously feels the lack. It’s also important because throughout the manga she can “feel” her father’s presence, even if she’s unsure what it really is. His spirit stays with her, even if she never really knew him. That tie will stay and play a huge role later in the story, as Mikan is very much her father’s daughter.

This being said, she’s still certainly the most childish and happy and innocent of the characters at the manga’s start. Natsume is a mess of abuse and trauma, and has been for his whole life, as previously discussed ad nauseam. Ruka grew up in what is practically solitary confinement, stuck in his loneliness and desperately wanting a friend, only to end up feeling like a burden on the only friend he’s ever had. Even Hotaru, who has successfully evaded the Academy’s capture for many years, has lived her childhood more or less on the run, and wondering about her mysterious missing older brother. 

In comparison, Mikan doesn’t linger very much on her concerns. She’s more or less just a happy little girl. This distinction is important, because Mikan goes through extreme character development over the course of the story, and not necessarily in a good way. She goes through intense trauma and suffering and despite it all she only internalizes it in a self-damaging way. 

Then there is Mikan’s friendship with Hotaru, which begins when they are in the third grade and the enigmatic and cold Hotaru moves into Mikan’s little village. Interestingly, Mikan is actually put off by Hotaru at first because she doesn’t like girls that stand out more than her. Mikan is a bit shallow and very interested in being liked. 

Such a childish concern, to dislike someone because they're more interesting.

It’s only when Hotaru approaches her and suggests they could win a beauty contest together that Mikan changes her mind about her. Again--she’s shallow, incredibly moved by the comment on her own cuteness. Naturally, the fact that the contest requires a group submission means Hotaru needed to find someone in her class willing to join with her. It could just be that Hotaru thought Mikan would be easy to win over, before they really got to know each other. Either way, it worked, and they won the contest.

Once Mikan changes her mind about Hotaru, she completely switches gears. She goes from resenting Hotaru’s charm to obsessing over her. Hotaru goes from being an annoying new girl to the best friend in the whole world, practically within seconds, and I think I can explain the change. 

Mikan is, like I said, shallow. That’s to be expected because she’s just a kid. Kids have different priorities than adults. Mikan likes being liked, likes standing out. Hotaru starts their friendship by acknowledging that Mikan stands out in her own way and compliments her. They are both cute. It doesn’t need to be a source of contention: they can compete together. She essentially rules herself out as a rival and instead establishes herself as an ally. That’s really complex language for what is probably not at all conscious on either of their parts, because they’re just kids, but that’s what happens. 

(It’s also an interesting subversion of girls being rivals for popularity or attention. Mikan initially resents Hotaru for this, but instead they end up being best friends, sharing attention. Feminism and all that, destroying unnecessary female rivalry.)

Additionally, Hotaru withholds affection. Aside from this first interaction, Hotaru distances herself. She is hesitant to give compliments and hugs. (It’s interesting to compare Natsume and Hotaru in this way, because although they both come off as cold, for Natsume it’s clear that he’s acting this way against his will, when he is really much softer than he seems; Hotaru is just naturally closed off and slower to affection than other people.) 

As a result of this coldness, Mikan needs to work for the affection. She feels she is the one who loves more. Although that seems to be the case, Mikan also refuses to put up with Hotaru’s rude quips and cold attitude. She rebuffs her--often with physical violence--but she never wins. 

It's not exactly like Mikan tolerates Hotaru's treatment--she definitely fights back.

Higuchi Tachibana makes jokes about Mikan being masochistic. How else do you explain her connection to both Hotaru and Natsume, who are cold and even mean to her, if only on the surface? She is mistreated by both of them: bullied, teased mercilessly, and not given the validation she seems to endlessly crave. She must enjoy the suffering! But I think there’s more to it. Mikan even says it herself: she sees the softness and kindness that Hotaru won’t show. She understands Hotaru. She may complain about the lack of attention, but ultimately she understands that Hotaru shows her fondness in a unique way. 

And this is the most important thing to know about Mikan before we start the meat of the essay: she has the potential for incredible emotional intelligence.

Mikan is definitely more brawn than brain. She’s not smart, not in regards to book smarts or street smarts. She’s cute, but many characters describe her as plain and unassuming (though it’s funny to talk about things like that in a manga where most characters’ faces look identical). She’s certainly not a stunning beauty like Hotaru or Nobara are. She’s emotional and has a quick temper. She’s loud and brash and annoying and immature and doesn’t always take things seriously.

The thing that sets Mikan apart (though I would argue none of the above traits are bad) is her emotional intelligence, particularly her intuition. Mikan has a deep understanding that all people are different and sees an inherent value in each person. She is deeply empathetic and seeks connections with people. This understanding allows her to make connections that other people don’t, leading to her being able to deduce things from implicit or entirely unsaid scenarios. She understands a few profound concepts that her classmates don’t fully grasp, and I think her optimistic and childish viewpoint helps her understand the world in a way her jaded and cynical peers might not consider. 

Of course, sometimes her hasty emotional reactions overshadow this emotional intelligence, but what matters is that the skills are there. Throughout the manga, Mikan helps other people hone this skill, and that’s crucial to why she ends up being so magnetic to so many characters.

Now that we’ve summarized Mikan’s character by the story’s start, we can formally begin the essay. Again, just like I said with Natsume, we will explore her character both independently and as part of a ship. I will explore her relationships with other characters (just like I explored Natsume’s other relationships), because it helps to flesh the NatsuMikan out. If it takes a bit to get super shippy, that’s just because this relationship begins with them as enemies. Thank you for your patience.

Chapter One

Mikan’s story--and ours--starts with a dilemma: her weirdo friend Hotaru has turned out to be a genius “Alice” and is now going to a new school, and only let her know at the very last minute!

In the anime, this opening sequence takes place in the heat of summer, amidst Mikan’s passionate petition to keep their school open. I explained in my anime essay that I think that accounts for a general difference between the two from the get-go, that the anime was bound to stay on the childish side of things while the manga dared to go darker. 

But regardless of why the anime chose to start in a warmer season, the more pressing issue is why the manga begins in the cold. My literature degree pays off, it seems, because each season has almost universal symbolism. The year as a whole commonly represents a human lifespan, but more than that it can symbolize personal evolution and change, as well as common themes. 

Spring is the season of renewal and rebirth, of fresh starts and joy. Summer is symbolic of love, passion, and liberty, of exploration and burgeoning adulthood. Autumn represents change, reflection, slow maturation and eventual harvest, and even loss, just like plants begin to die before winter. And finally winter represents sorrow, struggle, and of course death. These will all be relevant in the future so keep note of them! Mikan is our main character and this is her story of her gradual evolution and maturation, and the changing seasons fit her development quite well.

Loss. Sorrow. A childhood friend moving away forever.

That’s why the story starts in winter: this is the hardest thing Mikan has had to go through so far in her life. We meet her at the height of her sadness, at a low point. This is the figurative winter of her friendship with Hotaru. Because even though Hotaru attempts to comfort her with promises of letters and occasional visits, Mikan knows that they will lose touch. She parts with Hotaru in tears, upset and distraught, accusing Hotaru of taking her for granted and not caring about her. 

Though we later learn that Hotaru went through her own ordeal when she first came to the Academy, her letters blocked by strict censors and regulations, from Mikan’s perspective, Hotaru simply didn’t care enough to keep in touch. The one letter she gets comes in the summer--which you will remember represents exploration and freedom and those themes are the main focus here--and Hotaru dismissively shakes off the idea of a vacation visit because of the hot weather. While Mikan has been writing every other day, Hotaru has sent one letter (successfully) in six months. 

For Mikan, this is what she expects because at this stage her low emotional point freezes her typical tendency to try and understand the situation from Hotaru’s point of view. She knows that Hotaru doesn’t show her love outwardly, but has--in her despair--forgotten that she shows it in other, subtler ways. 

After complaining and whining at school, Mikan is given a time-out from class and overhears a conversation between students about that school Hotaru was transferred to. The Alice school protects its geniuses, keeping them locked up in a prison and refusing them contact with the outside world. She learns from the gossip that Hotaru’s family had been avoiding the scouts for years, successfully, until now, when Hotaru learned that the government gives you money for attending. 

Mikan is obviously devastated that Hotaru willingly transferred to a school where she knew they’d never see each other again ‘til graduation, just for the sake of money. She feels cheated, sold out, and lied to. Interestingly, none of her classmates seem to offer her any solace. She spitefully claims she’ll make lots of new friends, and it does feel as if it had just been the two of them against the world before.

"I'll make other friends," instead of "I have other friends."

I’m about to speculate with my own thoughts here, and it’s fine if anybody disagrees because this is all basically a headcanon, but I don’t think Mikan had any close friends other than Hotaru before attending the academy. Mikan has always liked being liked, and she can talk and play with pretty much anybody because of her outgoing and bold personality, but I think Hotaru was her first real friend, the first time she felt a real worthwhile connection to somebody. That’s part of the reason she clings so desperately to her. She has other girls to hang out with, even with Hotaru gone, but she seems lonelier than ever, and she never mentions any of her old classmates once she transfers. Hotaru isn’t just her best friend, but her only real friend. But at the academy she makes plenty of friends, strong and meaningful connections with people other than Hotaru. This is a point I’ll dig into more deeply later on, but I wanted to introduce it here because I think it makes her missing Hotaru all the sadder: she lost not just her best friend, but her only friend.

In any case, the lonely and miserable Mikan is wallowing in self-pity until she overhears one more conversation, between the school principal and Hotaru’s mother. She learns here that Hotaru gave all the money from the transfer to the school.

I get why the anime made Mikan protest the school's closing, but the manga makes this so much more about Hotaru this way.

The anime has Mikan protesting to keep the school open. When Hotaru gives the money to keep it open, it’s a gift to Mikan because Mikan cares so much.

Here, Mikan is oblivious to the school’s financial situation. Hotaru gives the money because she cares so much. This is the place where she met her best friend, after all, and it housed many memories that she doesn’t want to see destroyed. More than that: she did such a selfless thing without saying anything about it, because Hotaru isn’t the type of person to advertise any of her actions, even the noble ones.

Hotaru’s mother explains that Hotaru had moved around a lot in her childhood and gone to many schools. But this was the first time she liked a place, where she finally found a friend. 

Mikan is finally making the connection: Hotaru left because she was ready, because she’d finally found a place where she could make happy memories, and because she wanted to save that place, as a way to show her appreciation to the people she cared about, especially Mikan. And she left without notice because she would rather piss Mikan off so she would forget her, than to have her sad and missing her. 

We get a very important flashback here, one of the most character-defining moments for Mikan. Mikan brags that Hotaru is her best friend, but when she asks Hotaru, she just says she’s her own best friend. Mikan cries about it, hurt that Hotaru doesn’t value her as a best friend. Hotaru is unmoved by Mikan’s tears, claiming that she is 30% uglier when she cries, but also telling her that she much prefers when Mikan smiles, because it helps her forget her own troubles.

This is Hotaru trying to give a compliment. "I don't hate when you smile." LMAO.

Mikan looks back on this moment a lot, and the meaning behind Hotaru’s words devolves and warps into something very dangerous. 

When Hotaru meets Mikan, Mikan is an innocent and joyful girl. She has a carefree life and she smiles because of it. Hotaru is comforted by this, by the innocence and joy that Mikan conveys. It’s comforting to see the bright side of life constantly shining out of one person, who couldn’t see the darkness even if she tried. As Mikan grows and changes and her life stops being so carefree, she still carries Hotaru’s wishes for her to smile with her, and that will cause some trouble ahead (EVEN IF THE MANGA DISAGREES WITH ME).

In any case, Mikan becomes spiteful again, because Hotaru underestimated her loyalty. Hotaru thought it was possible for Mikan to forget her. Additionally, she feels guilty because she was also cruel to Hotaru, at their parting and in all her letters, only griping about Hotaru instead of being a good friend. She didn’t look deeper at Hotaru’s side of things because she didn’t want to. But now that she knows, she wants to start their friendship over, even if it is from afar.

She steals Jii-chan's money and travels all the way to Tokyo so that she can sneak into the academy and find Hotaru again. 

Even within just the first chapter, Mikan undergoes character development. She goes from the loss of winter to the determined liberty of summer, and she’s going to begin a journey on her own all for the sake of her friend.

She has the wish of becoming like Hotaru, of being able and willing to sacrifice herself for the people precious to her. She runs away, but the thing is that she’s sacrificing Jii-chan’s money and concern. Her journey to see Hotaru is moving, but it’s more brash than anything. That sentiment she has, of equating sacrifice with strength and love, is one she has in common with Natsume. It’s a dangerous sentiment and will cause both of them a world of pain, but for now, Mikan is just a naive little girl in Tokyo.

But what exactly are you sacrificing here, Mikan?

She’s immediately overwhelmed and spends all the stolen money on presents for herself and Hotaru. She gets dropped off at Alice Academy, an enormous research institute that seems to go on for miles. Even though she’s intimidated, she refuses to give up and starts advocating loudly for herself to enter the school. After being tricked by some predators and then saved by Narumi (exhibit A of Mikan not being able to look after herself in this first arc), he introduces her to the concept of alices, because it seems she has one. To him, a familiar one.

And even though he knows Yuka would definitely not want Mikan attending, he tells her he can help her enter. He’s doing this for a selfish reason, because he wants to draw his long lost unrequited love back. 

But Mikan doesn’t know about any of that. Narumi’s about to tell her what his alice is when there’s a huge explosion at the gate and Mikan is blown away by the blast.

Narumi then introduces her to Hyuuga Natsume, the prodigy of the elementary division, with the fire alice, who was just trying to escape the school.

Mikan first sees Natsume in the smoke of the explosion he caused, shrouded in shadow and with his face covered by a black cat mask. He’s a mystery, almost representative of the mysterious school she’s about to enter. The thing is he’s trying to leave and she’s trying to get in. 

He tries to jump and Narumi stops him, hitting him with the bean whip, and Mikan is horrified. She can see him with his mask off now, already battered from Narumi’s whip. 

I analyzed this picture TWICE and tumblr erased it both times so third time's the charm I hope. ANYWAY, Mikan has already had reaction panels to Natsume: to his explosion, to his presence on the gate with the mask, to Narumi hitting him. This is a new reaction: her reaction to his unmasked face. She looks so OwO about it (in my opinion). Mikan is easily enthralled by pretty faces after all, and Natsume canonically has a pretty face! Read into that what you will.

Natsume falls inelegantly and painfully to the ground and Narumi makes a snippy little comment about ruining his cute face but Mikan is still in shock. She immediately approaches Natsume to see if he’s okay. Mikan is kind, and Narumi just hurt somebody! Their very first interaction is a kind one, only because of Mikan’s first instincts to check on him. 

Narumi stomps on Natsume’s hand to stop him from using his alice. It’s too late, he’s been caught, it’s all over now. If Natsume tries to use his alice, he’ll just get hit with Narumi’s. Natsume hardly says anything except to call Narumi a pervert and then he’s hit with the pheromone alice through a kiss on the cheek anyway (which is hardly fair because Natsume didn’t use his alice again!) and he falls unconscious.

Mikan watches this all go down, overwhelmed, confused, and understandably frightened. She follows Narumi at his prompting, Natsume slung over his shoulder, but she’s obviously stunned. So much has happened in a short time, so even though she’s finally passing through the gates, one step closer to seeing her best friend again, she’s still spooked. What kind of school is this, where kids in masks try to run away by setting off explosions, where they get whipped and smooched against their will? It’s definitely not the best first impression. Just a bit ago, Mikan wanted nothing more than to get inside the gates, but now that she’s actually getting what she wanted, it feels less than pleasant.

This first encounter is representative of Mikan’s entire relationship with Natsume: he’s a boy who just doesn’t make any damn sense.

Chapter Two

Because of everything Mikan went through in chapter one, she is understandably anxious about finally entering Alice Academy after all this time. Narumi leaves her alone in a huge fancy room with Natsume out cold on the sofa. He tells her he’ll be reporting what has happened to the principal and explains nothing further. 

If there's one consistent string in Mikan's feelings towards Natsume, it's curiosity. He's impossible to figure out.

She sits alone and stares at Natsume’s mysterious mask, confused about everything that took place, particularly with the unconscious boy. She wonders how she could possibly trust Narumi after he hit and sexually harassed a student and these thoughts cause her to freak out until Misaki-sensei bursts in on accident. He ends up forced into the position to help Mikan make sense of everything. 

He reassures her about Narumi and tells her about his alice, which makes her think she’s living in a comic book all of a sudden. Mikan gets very excited but moves on easily to the next topic: Natsume’s mask. 

I talked about my point of view on the mask in the last essay, on how marking and physically abusing “problem” children instead of trying to guide them and help them deal with their powers is just not productive or helpful at all. Misaki-sensei is a teacher at the academy though and he’s been living in that kind of environment for his whole life. He is used to this school, where teachers hurt kids for acting out of line. That’s just the culture, and when you’re always surrounded by something you don’t always question it. Really, nobody in the manga really questions it. 

It’s also important that the manga is mostly from Mikan’s POV. She’s easily reassured by Misaki’s explanations because she’s a naive child and she takes him for a trustworthy adult. Mikan’s trust gets challenged a lot, but she tends to dole it out without much hesitation. Childish Mikan seeing this weird and unsettling world is what makes the manga so lighthearted at first. Any other perspective would be far darker, but for her, she’s in a fun adventure story!

Misaki tells Mikan that black cats are bad luck. After all, he points out, if Natsume really put his mind to it, he could probably overpower the mask. 

Why did the anime change Misaki to Jii-chan for the sake of warning her to stay away from black cats? I’m not sure. Mikan values Jii-chan’s word, as we discussed. If he says something is right or wrong, she tends to take him seriously and she thinks of him often when making decisions. The thing is, Mikan doesn’t stay away from Natsume. They begin the story hating each other, sure, but distance isn’t something Mikan preoccupies herself with. I think Misaki being the person who warns her is more realistic. He introduces her to Natsume, establishing him as no good, somebody to stay away from. His word weighs less than Jii-chan’s. It’s a warning, and Mikan does take it seriously since there’s so many things wrong with Natsume, but it’s not enough to really make her stay away.

He then runs off too, because of a message that someone is breaking into the greenhouse. If Natsume wakes up, she has to press an emergency button. 

I hate that superstition because I love cats but it's interesting that GA (and Mikan, particularly) resist it too. Though maybe Natsume would agree with Misaki-sensei that he's bad luck.

Misaki (and later Iinchou) is pretty much the only person who has actually talked to her about alices so far. He answered her questions to the best of his ability and tried to explain how things work here, but she’s still confused. She’s still new. And she’ll be confused for the rest of the manga because everyone lies to her and keeps secrets from her, leaving her in the dark and sometimes even unprepared. This is just a little taste of what’s to come.

Mikan is now alone again, with a boy who’s apparently so dangerous that he’d be considered a threat as soon as he opens his eyes. She’s freaked out again, because this guy is dangerous and she’s supposed to avoid black cats. But she decides to squeeze his nose and test him. When he doesn’t immediately wake up, she quickly calms down and moves onto her biggest priority: that she’ll be seeing Hotaru soon. (She easily forgets her troubles.)

But Natsume does wake up, and the first thing he does is attack Mikan and demand to know her identity, as if it matters at all. Mikan is so scared--no doubt in part because of what Misaki told her about him, but also because he has a hand on her throat and is threatening to set her hair on fire--she can’t even speak, shocked into silence. Mikan has never been in a situation like this, being attacked by a complete stranger for seemingly no reason. It might just be the scariest moment of her life (so far), so it makes sense that she is rendered mute momentarily.

Misaki-sensei is initially proven right, and only gradually proven wrong. Gakuen Alice as a story seems to be against the idea that a first impression could be accurate.

They’re only interrupted briefly when yet another mysterious boy crashes through the window. Natsume calls him Ruka and then Mikan is the subject of discussion again, the weird girl who won’t say who she is. But really, they’re the weird ones! What kind of a person attacks someone just for being in the same room? What kind of person flies in through a closed window? Poor Mikan is an outcast to the outcasts. And they both take off as soon as Narumi and Misaki burst into the room.

This day has been a mess so far! To think that she only just got here!

We have the inciting incident out of the way now. We are now eons away from the first kind interaction between them outside the gates (Mikan introducing herself) and now they’re enemies (Natsume introducing himself). 

It’s bizarre to imagine that Mikan will one day change her mind about Natsume, that she will end up understanding him and even more that he will understand her, that they will both change in huge ways because of each other.

But for now, that’s not a possibility. Mikan hates that guy.

She is inconsolable for a moment, sobbing in despair. 

The only thing that comforts her is Narumi handing her a new uniform to change into. She cheers up easily after that, wiping her tears and rejoicing over her new enrollment… even though it is tentative. She needs to pass a test in order to formally enroll: to be accepted as a classmate by her new class, Class B. That seems simple enough a task for outgoing and sociable Mikan. She can get along with almost anybody!

And then all the planets align because the Class B representatives come in--and one of them is Hotaru! A reunion hug seems inevitable but Hotaru voices disgust at Mikan’s crying--she’s uglier than the Mikan she remembers.

So Mikan wipes her face and forces her mouth into a smile, telling us that she wants to be a person who Hotaru can always count on to be smiling, no matter what (not good!). 

This is a sweet scene, a dangerous lifestyle.

Hotaru and Mikan are ten years old, so they obviously have a limited view of what’s healthy. It’s comforting to see somebody always smiling, always upbeat and positive, so that no matter how poorly you feel, you can always count on seeing somebody who sees the silver lining. But Mikan is a person, and she can’t always feel happy. So what Mikan takes from that dilemma isn’t that she shouldn’t always have to smile: it’s that she should smile, even when she’s emotional, sad, angry, anything. She’ll have a complex about this for the rest of the manga, unfortunately. (I think Hotaru wishes for Mikan to be the kind of person who can always see the bright side, rather than a person who has to pretend to see the bright side, but Mikan will quickly run into situations that are dark and hopeless, so she smiles even when she can’t see the bright side.)

The manga doesn’t seem to view this as a problem, instead thinking it noble to put other people’s comfort above your own feelings. 

But I think it’s a problem and I’ll be discussing it as a problem throughout this essay. 

Anyway, Hotaru is touched that Mikan came all this way to see her, and invites Mikan to hug her. It’s sweet that Hotaru lets Mikan cling to her until they finally enter the classroom. It’s proof that Hotaru isn’t entirely nonchalant and apathetic: she missed Mikan too, even though her one letter might not have shown that. Hotaru only shows affection on certain occasions, when she feels it’s warranted. This reunion is an example of that.

Mikan is not as confident anymore once she gets a good look at the class though, because every single person in front of her is a freak.

I love how Narumi just drops her off and leaves as if he's not Class B's homeroom teacher. He's like "I'm a teacher here ♥ and I hate teaching! ♥"

Conclusion

Mikan has entered Alice Academy and met Natsume, though he failed to make a good impression. In the next segment, he'll make sure she thinks he's even worse (though she'll never stop being curious).

I HATE TUMBLR. I was ready to publish this more than an hour ago but Tumblr refused to save my draft properly (I have all my text in separate documents but I have to put in each pic separately and I add captions only in the formatting/editing phase so I lost content.) I would add more but I'm really exhausted and this essay is already too long anyway. I'll try to fit in all of the Northern Woods arc in the next part. Stay tuned for tomorrow!

Next ->

[blackwoolncrown]

The (Sometimes Unintentional) Subtext of Digital Conversations

 Different people have different ideas about what it means to sign an email “XOXO,” what you should use Facebook for, and how long you can wait before texting back.

By

Deborah Tannen

The meanings we glean in conversation are often, maybe mostly, not found in the words spoken, but in how they’re said, and in the spaces between them. Tone of voice, and cadences created by shifts in speed, volume, and pitch, let listeners know whether “Nice job,” is complimentary or sarcastic, or whether “Wow” shows that you’re impressed or underwhelmed. The literal meaning of words is their message, and everything about how words are said is the metamessage. Metamessages communicate how you mean what you say.

More and more conversations are taking place on screens—via texting, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, email, and myriad other platforms. Some of these written conversations make up for the lack of voicing with conventions that mimic speech, like exclamation points, CAPS, and repetition of words or letters. I can be “so happy!!!!!!!” or “sooooo happy” or “SO happy” or “sosososo happy” or even “SOSOSOSOOOOOO happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Emoticons, emojis, and gifs help, too. But these visual signals are only the tip of the metamessage iceberg.

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

Different generations are particularly apt to perceive different metamessages in the same words or actions. For example, a Sri Lankan woman living in London told me of hosting her sister and her sister’s teenage daughter. When the girl refused to go out after 3:00 p.m., because that’s when her friends back home got active on WhatsApp, the sisters perceived the metamessage, “I’m not really here. My head and my heart are elsewhere.” But I suspect the girl’s perspective was more like: “I’m here with you—that’s a given—but I also want to stay connected to my friends, and I can’t bear the thought of being left out”

I heard a great range of viewpoints on social media while interviewing over 80 women (ranging in age from 9 to 97) for a study of friendship. And my students at Georgetown University have helped me understand how they manage, and sometimes are tripped up by, the metamessages communicated over social media—and how habits and assumptions can differ.

For instance, when Kate Lucey’s sister had not given birth by her due date, she kept family and friends apprised of what was happening with her pregnancy by posting frequently on Facebook. In response, even distant relatives and casual friends posted well wishes and encouraging thoughts. Kate felt that these postings sent her sister a precious metamessage: Many people love her and care about her pregnancy. The posts strengthened her network of support. Kate was stunned to learn that her roommate perceived a negative metamessage in her sister’s use of Facebook. She said she would have been offended to be kept up to date about a pregnancy that way; she would think, “Geez, why didn’t you call?” Kate’s roommate reasoned that posting on Facebook is so easy that it means nothing. A phone conversation reflects and creates a meaningful relationship, whereas Facebook creates a false sense of intimacy, not a real relationship.

The impression that posting on Facebook is insincere because it’s too easy sounds a lot like the explanation a friend gave me (over email) for disliking “THAT DRAT ‘xoxo,’ which means nothing, just keys to hit.” This perspective–if something is too easy it’s meaningless or insincere—makes sense. Taking time sends a metamessage of caring. Yet I like ‘xoxo’ (or my personal variant, ‘xxoo’), and use it, though only with friends who use it first. I think xoxo fills a need: It’s a more affectionate way to close an email than “Best” but not as fervent as “Love,” which, in any case, some people don’t feel comfortable using with friends, though some do. Maybe it strikes some as fake because it’s a substitution, standing for “love and kisses” but not denoting it. Or maybe it seems too cutesy. Whatever the source of these impressions, deciding how to sign off a message becomes a challenge, since any choice you make will send metamessages that you may not intend or suspect.

I was shocked to realize that my students might be perceiving metamessages opposite from what I intend when I reply to their email requests and queries. One of them pointed out that when he emails professors, he begins with a salutation (“Dear Professor Smith”) and a greeting like “I hope you’re enjoying the weekend.” Only then does he explain his request—in detail—followed by a friendly closing, again about the weekend or the weather, before wrapping up with “Sincerely” or “Yours truly” above his name. (I recognized his description: That’s the way most of my students’ emails look.) The student then complained that many of his professors’ responses omit the salutation, greeting, full explanation, friendly closing, signature, and name. All he receives is a naked reply to his question, and usually a cryptic one at that. I realized that I do this, too–or did, before he, and others in class discussion, opened my eyes. I had assumed that dispensing with those formalities sends a metamessage of casual friendliness, more or less the way I use email with close friends and family. But students regard email as formal, so the omission of those niceties often strikes them as disrespectful, even rude. (Now I go back and add the trimmings before pressing SEND.)

It’s not surprising that professors’ and students’ practices would vary, given the difference in power and age. But even best friends can have very different ideas about appropriate ways to use social media. Noelle Miesfeld and Rachel Jacobson had been close friends since college, and they stayed in close touch after graduation, often having long telephone conversations, catching up. After a number of years, however, they began communicating more through texting. This meant more frequent conversations—often daily or even multiple times a day. So Noelle was surprised when Rachel registered a complaint: She’d been telling Noelle about a problem, and she felt that Noelle’s responses seemed too casual and brief to show real concern. Rachel missed her caring, emotionally supportive friend. They traced the trouble to their contrasting assumptions about texting. To Noelle, comforting closeness resided in the frequency of their exchanges. To Rachel, frequency didn’t substitute for the expression of feeling and detailed discussion of her situation that they’d shared in the past—the kinds of conversations that Noelle didn’t feel could or should take place through texting.

When deciding which platform to use and how to use it, as well as how to interpret communications you receive—or don’t receive—you have to know which platforms your friends tend to use and how they use them. Some will answer texts but not emails. Others don’t check their phones regularly, so you can’t rely on texting to reach them. The proliferation of platforms means more options to exploit but also more opportunities for your messages to be misinterpreted. How quickly does a particular friend usually reply to a text or email? What does the lack of an immediate response mean? So firm is some people’s expectation of a quick reply to a text that any lapse carries meaning. A student, telling me about a friend who, in her words, “stopped talking” to her, said, by way of explanation, “She’d text me back two days later.” To her, a two-day delay was tantamount to not talking at all.

Silence can be a deliberate communication. One woman said of a text she received from a friend, “I was so annoyed, I’m just not responding. I just didn’t answer.” Yet in other cases, silence doesn’t mean anything; it results from circumstances. A young woman thought her boyfriend’s delay in responding meant he was angry at her. It turned out his phone battery had run out.

Perceived metamessages of annoyance can snowball, whether or not they were intended. A student recounted in an interview a Facebook message exchange with a friend that, she felt, should have been straightforward but became complicated. She sent a message suggesting they go running later than planned. The friend messaged back, “I guess that’s okay. Fine, see you then.” That little opener, “I guess,” and the unenthusiastic “okay” seemed to imply that she wasn’t thrilled with the change of plans. So the student responded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be difficult. I’m more flexible than I made it sound. I can actually just do one o’clock like we planned.” That set off a back-and-forth that went four rounds—“No no no let’s do the time you wanna do,” “No no no let’s do the time we said.” Hair-tearing exchanges like these are particularly common among girls and women because, as the student pointed out, they often worry about coming across as too demanding and hurting others’ feelings.

My student Holly DiClemente explained how her peers make creative use of digital features to avoid hurting friends’ feelings. One example is ghost reading—reading a message without opening it, by just reading the preview in the text app, or on your lock screen. If a phone automatically sends “read receipt” notices to let others know their messages have been opened and, presumably, read, ghost reading comes in handy to manage the implied metamessages. If you see from the text notification that a friend is asking if you want to hang out, and you don’t want to but you don’t want to hurt her feelings, you can open the message later and tell her you’re sorry you just got it. The “read receipts” feature can also be used to show you’re mad; it lets someone know you’ve read their message and are intentionally not responding—a visual virtual snub. But there, too, they might think you’re mad when you’re not. Maybe you saw that the message was long, so you put off replying until you’d have more time to read it, or to write a thoughtful response.

Metamessages—intended or not—can reside in just about any aspect of digital communication, even something as minor and automatic as listing recipients’ names when sending email. If you enter the addresses on the “to” or “cc” line, everyone who receives it can see not only who else is getting the message but also what order you put the names in. Two women I interviewed together, Lucy McBride and Annie Finnell, pointed out some of the resulting metamessages: “You feel special when you’re the first one on there,” Lucy said. Annie agreed: “You do. And you feel not special when you’re the last one.” Lucy added, “Because if you’re dead last, it’s like they were thinking, ‘Who am I forgetting?’” To avoid offending those whose names come later or last, you can put recipients’ email addresses on the “bcc” line. But that sends a metamessage, too. It’s what people do when the list of recipients is very long, so “It looks like you’re inviting all of Northwest Washington!”

Anytime there are multiple recipients, metamessages can get complicated. I was part of a group that used email to confer about a joint project. In one such exchange, a member of our group expressed well wishes to another about a medical condition, after which all the others chimed in, echoing the expressions of concern. I was puzzled. I didn’t know whether this flurry of well wishes was related to the ongoing medical challenge I knew this group member had been experiencing, or whether there had been a new and dangerous development I didn’t know about. I asked another group member, who said she was not aware of any new developments either, but wanted to express her general support for our ailing friend. I went ahead and sent my own well wishes, cc’ing only the one who first expressed concern. But then I worried that the others would think me callous and uncaring. I rather regretted having foregone the option of allowing—or forcing--everyone to overhear my well wishes.

Every word we speak is chock-full of metamessages telling others not only how we mean what we say but also who we are. It has always been that way; it’s the only way language can work to communicate ideas and negotiate relationships. With social media, we have ever more ways to do this—and ever more things to worry about, to make sure the self we’re displaying is the one we believe we are—or the one we want to be.

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

chapter 3

Robbe doesn’t think too much about grabbing his phone anymore, clicking on the name, scrolling through the page, clicking on some old pictures just to see him again, watching the new stories, Sander partying with his friends until the early hours of this morning. It’s part of Robbe’s routine to check Sander’s social media like it’s brushing his teeth or skating back home hearing his music.

He brought it to himself so he has to suck it up. Sander is more than well adjusted to his new life, his new friends.

The conversations that used to happen constantly throughout every day changed a few months back and are now just a quick exchange of texts every few days, nothing longer than ten minutes, and nothing too deep inside each other’s lives too. Robbe still misses Sander like he did when Sander first moved away but he doesn’t have the space to say it anymore.

It was obvious that distance would push them apart. They were too naive to think they could beat it.

He missed his opportunities time and time again. The ticket he had to go visit expired a few weeks ago and he knows it was the last straw for Sander to give up on them completely, no matter how much Robbe tried to explain and how many times he apologized for not finding the time or courage to go visit.

Robbe is terrible with words but he managed to say them when he felt it but he’s a disaster with actions and he didn’t take one with someone that’s all about actions speaking louder than words.

“Baby, are you busy today?” He hears his mom’s words like they’re on the other side of a tunnel. He looks up and she’s smiling, repeating her words now that she has his attention.

“No...No, I’m not really busy, why?”

“I was thinking about going to the mall and shopping.” He can feel her excitement in her voice. They don’t do this often: outings that don’t involve their doctors or grocery shopping. And his mom has been doing really, really good and Robbe thinks if he lost one for his lack of attitude, he shouldn’t do the same with his mom.

“Okay. Let me just change.” He smiles back and she claps her hands, leaving his room to go grab her things. The last thing Robbe wants to do is go out but he’ll force a smile on his face and hold however many bags she needs him to hold.

to Jens: Do you want to do something tonight?

I need some beers

He puts his phone inside his jacket to give his mom his full attention for the afternoon, hoping Jens has planned something for them to do by the time he’s back home tonight.

Robbe doesn’t need anything but he lets his mom buy him lunch and when she shows him this perfect black leather jacket that looks a lot like one Robbe used to steal from Sander, he lets her buy it for him too. He checks his phone but there’s no message from Jens yet so he texts Zoe, inviting her for some coffee with his mom before they head home. It’s nice to see her again and his mom loves Zoe so much but Robbe can tell something is up. Zoe keeps looking at him in the way she does when she’s worried. He doesn’t ask because his mom is there and he doesn’t need his mom in the middle of whatever drama Zoe is hiding from him.

On their way back home it’s colder than expected after walking for so many hours inside the mall, the sun is completely gone so the temperature dropped drastically and Robbe finds any excuse to open the bigger bag he’s carrying, putting his new leather jacket on, searching for his phone to put inside the outer pocket. He holds it tighter and the screen lights up, showing the notification of a few new messages from Jens.

to Robbe: No plans but you can come by if you want, play some video game

talked to Jana yesterday

She told me Sander is hooking up with a girl…

Robbe stops walking, carefully reading every message again to make sure he didn’t misinterpret what Jens was saying. He knows he should read this with the biggest grain of salt because Jana has moved back a few weeks ago and she barely knows Sander but in the back of his mind, for a reason Robbe can’t understand, he thinks she might be telling Jens the truth.

to Jens: How does she know that?

He can guess the answer - Britt and her big mouth - but he doesn’t know what to say.

to Robbe: Britt told her that he’s been sleeping with someone for a while now but it’s nothing serious

probably just a fuck buddy

he did repost stories with a blonde girl tho

Robbe leaves to answer Jens later when he’s home, and he opens Instagram instead, Sander’s profile picture being the first one available for him to watch - his favorite hobby -  and he clicks on it without thinking and there it is. Robbe keeps his thumb on the screen to freeze the frame.

It’s a stories of someone else that Sander shared. It’s too fast for Robbe to understand what’s going on but he stops when he sees Sander laughing, with sparkly eyes that are the sign that maybe he’s a little tipsy, always in a better mood after a few beers, his hair messy from what Robbe assumes to be strange fingers running through his locks and the girl finally turns back to look at whoever caught them making out, blushing with the brightest red lips and Robbe takes his finger off the screen and it’s over in the next second.

“Robbe…” Zoe is standing next to him, his mom a few steps forward waiting for them.

“Am I like the last one to know?”

Zoe presses her lips together, trying to justify not telling him about it but Robbe doesn’t really care. It’s his fault anyway. Sander has every right to move on and post it all over social media.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket and Zoe wraps her hands around his arm and forces him to start walking again, acting as nothing happened to his mom while they walk Zoe home and then go home themselves.

He tries to engage in whatever conversation his mom starts about picking which pizza they’ll eat tonight but his brain keeps replaying that quick clip over and over again even though he shouldn’t care.

Sander knows that he saw and he doesn’t text anything to Robbe, as he shouldn’t but Robbe expected him to.

He completely forgets about answering Jens and goes to bed right after eating half a pizza without noticing, turning his phone off, hoping he’ll wake up to some missed calls or texts from Sander, knowing it won’t happen.

The story is still there when Robbe wakes up the next morning. He clicks on Jens’ texts to finally answer him.

to Jens: sorry for disappearing last night, ate some pizza and passed out before I could tell you.

Thankfully, Jens is not online so Robbe won’t have to keep a conversation going when he’s still half asleep and in the worst possible mood.

He pushes himself to lie on his side, staring at the space next to him where Sander would usually sleep.

There were long months of miscommunication, frustration, and excuses because Robbe was too afraid of any change. He finally had the life he dreamed of, and two months after, Sander was moving to another country with no intention of coming back to visit every weekend. That change was big enough to paralyze him, unable to decide for himself what he wanted in their relationship. He thought they could maintain some degree of their relationship online while Robbe worked on himself but it wasn’t enough for Sander, clearly.

And Robbe couldn’t whine and beg for his attention so he kept his neediness to himself while their conversation got smaller and meaningless with time. The few things keeping them close are over now and Robbe can try to hide it all he wants but he knows it won’t be easy.

He clicks on another app that he opens frequently but this one just to look.

The airplane tickets aren’t too pricey, he just has to find one, buy and just fucking go there already! He can’t have another long semester letting the unknown eat his brain out. If he asks Sander he’ll give a too honest answer, cold without thinking about feelings because he’s hurt and he doesn’t care if Robbe gets hurt too because he brought this to them. Sander will be practical and Robbe needs him to be more considerate.

He stops scrolling when he finds a flight to Sander’s new town. His dad sent him his birthday gift in money and Robbe didn’t use much of it yet. Added with all the money his dad sends him every few weeks, it’s barely enough but it’ll work.

He buys the ticket before he can change his mind again and drops his phone on his mattress, looking forward. He has one hour to pack a bag and go to the airport. If he works fast enough he won’t have time to change his mind.

Robbe sits on his bed and grabs his school bag from the floor, unzipping it and turning it upside down on his bed to empty it, leaving the mess for him to deal with when he’s back. He doesn’t know for how long he’ll stay but it can’t be that long that he can’t fit in one bag.

If he tells anyone, as they did to him, they’ll end up telling Sander about his plans. Even Zoe would end up accidentally spilling the news to Jana and she would tell Britt. So Robbe tells Senne that he’ll need him to lie for Robbe for a few days. He needs to pretend he’s sleeping somewhere else so nobody will try to change his mind about jumping on a plane suddenly to go talk to Sander because of a social media post.

He’s the only one that won’t call him crazy or ask any questions.

When everything is planned with Senne, Robbe is finally done packing too, not giving himself even a second to look around and diggest the crazy plan he’s about to do, he’s almost late and the taxi is already downstairs, waiting for him.

He kisses his mom goodbye and quickly tells her he’s going to spend the week at Senne’s because he needs some help with Zoe. He’s out the door before giving a proper explanation or he would get caught in his lie, everything written all over his face because Robbe is that terrible of a liar.

The realization of how fucked his whole plan is only hits him when he’s already in his seat inside the airplane, high up in the sky, being offered some snacks that he declines.  

He looks so desperate, jealous, and thinking sex will fix everything that he ruined. He looks and sounds hot and cold and confusing and Robbe hates the realization while he’s sitting inside an airplane, with no way out to go back home.

If he gets there and Sander is living a married life already with his blonde dream girl, Robbe will have to find a way to dig a hole and hide forever.

He sits forward, finally able to see groups of houses again down on the ground. The pilot tells them they’ll be landing soon and Robbe rushes to the bathroom before he won’t be able to. He washes his face and looks at himself in the mirror. He’s not doing a good job at hiding his nervousness.

He won’t even have time to hesitate while waiting for his bag. Everything he brought is in the compartment over his head. He only needs to get inside a cab and go to Sander’s place. In two hours or so he’ll have to deal with whatever he planned so quickly in his head.

Maybe if he asks what’s going on, it won’t feel so desperate. It’s not unfair to want to know where they stand. Even if it’s a closure that Robbe is not ready to have. He settles for asking, as calmly as he can, what’s going on between them now that there’s someone else again.

The airport is tiny and Robbe is a little bit lost, wandering without knowing where he’s supposed to go to find the taxis. Sander's address is still saved in a print Robbe took of their conversation before they started drifting apart.

Sander had moved to a better apartment that he could only afford because he was sharing with a few of his friends. Robbe remembers typing, asking why was Sander sending him that if they were barely talking to each other those days. He wanted Sander to tell him they were still okay enough but Robbe didn’t send the message, just said the place looked nice, and took a screenshot to save the address.

He asks the taxi driver if it’s a long drive and he shakes his head, looking at Robbe through the rearview, “Five minutes, not much more than that.”

Robbe sighs, trying to make some breathing exercises to prepare himself. Five minutes is not a lot of time, not enough either.

He tries to keep himself from overthinking as he jumps out of the car, putting his bag over his shoulder. The building seems very new, modern even and Robbe wonders how expensive it is to live there.

There’s a guy behind the desk when he walks in and he leads Robbe to the elevator, pressing the button for him, letting him go upstairs by himself. Robbe found a way to mumble, after giving the old man all his information, that it was a surprise so he wouldn’t call Sander. He seemed to get it, smiling and Robbe was giving the directions: on the third floor, the door on his right was Sander’s.

He fixes his hair, adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and stares at the door before knocking, hoping Sander is the one to open it, not one of his friends or the girl. He should have told him he was coming, at least Sander would have time to hide anything he might want to hide but Sander doesn’t seem unhappy to see him at his door. Robbe doesn’t remember what he had planned to say and Sander is quiet too, doesn’t look like he had much sleep time or any sleep for that matter.

He can barely open his eyes, wearing his underwear and a black shirt and Robbe doesn’t wait for another second, putting his hands on Sander’s neck, pulling him down for a heated kiss. He licks Sander’s mouth open, pushing him inside his apartment and Sander slams the door closed behind Robbe, gently taking his bag off his shoulder, finally awake enough to lead the way to a bed.

-

Robbe snuggles closer and carefully lies on Sander’s shoulder. He obviously changed the order of things but there’s no escaping a conversation now while they’re both wide awake, lying in bed together. Robbe wonders if Sander at least changed his sheets. He has to know what Sander is feeling but he’s so afraid of the answer.

He looks up and finds Sander already staring at him, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“You know why I came?”

Sander lifts his eyebrows, looking elsewhere now and he sighs annoyingly.

“I’ll be surprised if I don’t.”

Robbe looks down again, at Sander’s hand casually just on his chest, like he’s waiting for Robbe to hold it like he would any other time. He doesn’t because it feels wrong yet but he walks with his fingertips over Sander’s knuckles, wanting to hold his hand, kiss him, tell Sander that there’s no way anyone else is better than them and that’s why he’s here.

“So…is this like Britt all over again?”

He knows it’s not the best way to ask if Sander still wants to be with him and just him but he can’t find another way to do it.

“No. I broke up with Britt right after our first kiss. And I’m not dating anyone right now. So it’s different.”

Robbe looks up knowing he’ll find an upset Sander, he doesn’t ask anything else to not risk his luck. He pushes himself up and looks at Sander face to face, staring at his still reddish lips, and kisses him again, leaving the rest of this painful conversation for later

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

What your opinion on the Agni Kai was better then aang’s fight with ozai

I want to first say that “better” is a completely subjective statement. Both the final Agni Kai and Aang’s battle with Ozai have huge importance thematically, but are also demonstrative of different aspects of A:tLA, so comparing them in an attempt to determine the “better” battle is really an injustice to the show imo. That said, the final Agni Kai is certainly the more popular of the two big battles, and honestly I can break down its popularity into three main points. People tend to favor the final Agni Kai because:

They see the final Agni Kai as the reason Z.utara should have been canon (no, this is not the same as seeing the battle as crucial to Z.utara’s development; I mean they full-on think that the final Agni Kai matters largely if not entirely because of the brief ‘Z.utara’ moment.)

They recognize the significance of the Agni Kai being framed as a tragedy (specifically regarding Azula).

Their lack of understanding regarding Aang’s arc (or, to be kinder, their personal disinterest in Aang) prevents them from fully appreciating his battle with Ozai.

There are a few other reasons the final Agni Kai tends to be favored (e.g. it’s a much faster-paced battle action-wise; Aang’s battle with Ozai is over twice as long and because of how the show was structured is broken up into several sections and thus feels even longer), but I think those are the main three. So let’s take them one at a time!

First, I have to start with the obvious:

People favor the final Agni Kai because they interpret it as their holy grail of why Z.utara should have been canon.

Firstly, I am not getting into the K@taang vs Z.utara ship wars. I don’t have the time or the energy lmao. But there is a huge difference between shipping Z.utara based on the content provided in the show (because y’all know I love me some Zut@raang) compared to somehow thinking that Zuko and Katara were both ready to be and should have gotten together at the end of the series. In short, Z.utara would not have worked in canon based on where the series stood by the finale, and that’s okay! That fact does not negate the appeal of Z.utara nor does it mean Z.utara shippers should not be allowed to interpret the final Agni Kai as involving Z.utara content (they absolutely can and should! we love to see that!). But the final Agni Kai was not some secret sign that Z.utara was meant to be canon, and people who interpret it as such are sorely missing the point of the battle.

Here are a few metas discussing the final Agni Kai in regards to Z.utara’s importance within canon A:tLA, if you’d like to read some analysis going more in-depth than I intend to. My thoughts regarding Z.utara and the final Agni Kai are pretty simple:

Zuko catching/attempting to redirect the lightning aimed at Katara was not because he was in love with her. For him to sacrifice himself because he was “in love with her” would entirely undermine his redemption arc, which is learning to earn forgiveness and accept unconditional love from his family (both Iroh and the Gaang), not because of romantic interest. (Again, this does not mean someone shouldn’t ship Z.utara; if that’s what you’re taking away from this post, then you might as well stop reading, because I assure you that’s not even close to the point here.)

Katara is set up as Azula’s primary foil (e.g. by and large her relationship in canon with Zuko is aimed as a surrogate sibling); her saving Zuko parallels Azula’s attempts on his life (though her most important moment as Azula’s foil is arguably bringing Aang back to life after Azula kills him, but that’s a subject for another time lol), and Zuko catching the lightning for Katara demonstrates him saving the sister he can save versus Azula, the sister he cannot save (hence her breakdown at the end of the battle while Katara walks away largely unharmed; Zuko’s decision is also a direct parallel to him siding with Azula in “Crossroads of Destiny”, having first chosen the sister who harms him over Katara, the sister who ultimately heals him).

The significance of Zuko catching/attempting to redirect the lightning aimed at Katara is not because it was Katara he was saving; the viewer sees Zuko’s decision and recognizes that he would have done so for anyone. Anyone in the Gaang, plus Mai and Iroh, and possibly even Ty Lee (hell, he’d probably have taken the bolt for Appa and Momo). Zuko’s redemption arc is sealed by his selflessness, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of someone else. While the moment is especially powerful because of Katara’s position as a foil to Azula, it is not the Z.utara holy grail I’ve seen it portrayed to be.

To be honest, the interpretation of the Agni Kai as some big Z.utara moment is both superficial and a massive disservice to Azula and the completion of her arc, which is the focal point of most if not all of the battle, and also entirely undermines the power of Zuko’s redemption (as I discussed). So moving on to the next point!

People favor the final Agni Kai because they recognize its importance to Azula and how the key element of the battle’s emotional weight is its framing as a tragic, heartbreaking moment.

I rewatched both the final Agni Kai and Aang’s battle with Ozai before I wrote this, and I had to try so hard to not cry at the end when Azula breaks down, sobbing openly for the first time in the entire series. It is a powerful, devastating moment, and it is so heartbreaking because of how fitting it is for her. Does she deserve redemption? Absolutely. But in the context of the series and how A:tLA played out, rock bottom is where Azula needs to be, and the audience recognizing that fact is what makes the scene so painful to watch (and also why you can’t take your eyes off the screen). For me, the power of the Agni Kai never came from Zuko’s sacrifice (although I understand why that part resonates with some people more); instead, it was always about Azula’s downfall, her descent, the straw the broke the camel’s back - whatever you want to call it. I’ll try to keep the essence of my feelings towards Azula and the Agni Kai and why this battle is preferred short:

Azula is a much more established antagonist than Ozai. We know from the beginning the Fire Lord is the big bad, but his presence in the show is relegated largely to flashbacks and to the second half of the final season. Azula is introduced in Book Two (technically she appears twice, I believe, in Book One, but she has no lines so I’m not counting those moments lol) and becomes the key antagonist throughout the final two books. The viewers admire her intelligence and strategic capabilities, appreciate her wit and ability to turn a person’s words around on them, and even feel sympathy and pity for her when her difficult relationship with her mother is revealed (in “The Beach”) and when Ozai’s conditional love is demonstrated to apply to her, too (“Sozin’s Comet Part 1: The Phoenix King”). Thus, the final Agni Kai has multitudes more emotional potency in terms of the antagonist, as Azula is more pitiable and developed than Ozai, so it’s understandable that feeling a greater connection to Azula might result in someone preferring the final Agni Kai over Aang’s battle with Ozai. (That said, I will be discussing more about the significance of Ozai as a character later.)

The tone of the Agni Kai is that of tragedy (verus the more action/intense battle of Aang vs Ozai). While the debate of drama vs action is largely related to personal preference, I think it’s worth noting that no other battle in A:tLA (that I can think of) has the slow, drawn-out, orchestral music that is present in the final Agni Kai. The viewers realize this battle may be about power on the surface, but in reality it is a painful, devastating moment about a family irreparably torn apart (at least in terms of the series run). For me, that has always been the captivating factor of the Agni Kai. The viewers mourn for Azula, who has lost herself. Yes, she did so partially in her quest for power, but more importantly in her search for love, as she did not have a support system in her life like her brother (Zuko always had Iroh), and the audience grieves for her. Her mother both feared her and was disgusted by her; her father loved no one (including her) and only valued her for what she could provide to him; she hurt her brother and her best friends to the point where they were forced to turn away from her; and her uncle, as far as what is shown, never extended a hand to her. Azula is a victim of abuse (though this does not excuse any of her actions; in fact, her role in A:tLA as a victim who was abandoned and lashes out before breaking down on the inside is just as important as Zuko’s role as a victim who was given support and was able to heal). Thus, to me, the power of the final Agni Kai is all from the tragic tone (hence why Azula’s heartbreaking end brings me close to tears every time).

Bonus: The way Katara takes out Azula is incredibly clever and badass. (I don’t think I need to expand this one. We all love narrative foils!)

For some people, they prefer the final Agni Kai because of the emotional weight of the conclusion of Azula’s arc; that weight combined with the conclusion of Zuko’s redemption, in my opinion, are pretty valid reasons to deem the final Agni Kai their favorite battle of the series. That said, there is one other important factor to consider in the question of the final Agni Kai vs Aang’s battle with Ozai:

People prefer the final Agni Kai because they blatantly misunderstand and/or misinterpret Aang’s arc of reconciling his being both the Avatar and the last airbender, thus preventing them from fully understanding and appreciating the weight of his battle with Ozai.

This point is more complex than the two I discussed previously, so I’m going to break this one down further to help simplify it. Let’s start with the most obvious thing:

“The lion turtle and energybending were cop-outs!”

I cringe whenever I see this; imagine admitting to the entire fandom how blind you were to the extensive foreshadowing about the lion turtle and energybending. Downright embarrassing. There are so many metas out there explaining how the lion turtle and energybending were not cop-outs and how A:tLA did foreshadow their influence (some people need to admit they just didn’t watch the show tbh). I’ll try to provide a quick summary:

Chiblocking demonstrated how chi/energy and bending were intrinsically linked from Day. One. Moreover, it did so numerous times; trying to claim that blatant foreshadowing is not there is… well, kind of embarrassing.

The lion turtle was foreshadowed in “The Library” (and moreover the lion turtle only appeared after Aang called out to the Spirit World; his meditation was an appropriate attempt to seek help from those wiser than him to resolve his dilemma, and thus his plea was answered).

If you’re gonna argue the lion turtle/energybending were convenient cop-outs, you better also critique how Suki conveniently was at the Boiling Rock/the ferry, Pakku conveniently had been arranged to marry Katara’s grandmother, Toph conveniently inventing metalbending, every other time a spirit showed up conveniently, etc. etc. etc. Don’t cherry-pick, hypocrites.

The lion turtle/energybending were not necessarily predictable, no, but they also were not meant to be. You’re not supposed to guess every detail of every finale of every show. So yes, the lion turtle/energybending were foreshadowed, and this foreshadowing done so in a way where after they were revealed it was intended to be an “oh my god, how did I not see that connection before?!” moment. (At least, so it was for me.)

Dismissing the lion turtle and energybending as a cop-out is an age-old, boring misinterpretation of Aang’s battle with Ozai, and by and large I think most of the fandom is tired of hearing it. Thus, if people don’t understand the lion turtle/energybending and their roles in the A:tLA finale, then they’re less likely to appreciate Aang’s battle with Ozai and therefore would prefer the final Agni Kai. Next common argument:

“Aang was able to re-enter the Avatar state because of a rock? Really? Another cop-out!”

Again, if you’re gonna criticize the rock, at least criticize every other plot device used in A:tLA. I mean come on. Some people will really just cherry-pick instances solely with Aang. How very convenient for them, huh?

But the fact of the matter is that the pointy rock is actually pretty important! No, it didn’t necessarily have to be a rock that allowed Aang to enter the Avatar state again, but it was necessary that the Avatar state was unblocked for him by a physical trigger. The Avatar state was removed from Aang by Azula’s lightning striking him (after he’d done the spiritual work to control it, too!), which is a physical block, thus requiring something to physically unblock it. By the end of Book Two, Aang is able to enter the Avatar state of his own accord (he successfully unlocked his chakras, after all) and had Azula not struck him in the back and killed him, he presumably would have been able to do so throughout Book Three. Did that physical item have to be a rock? Again, not necessarily, lmao, but where he and Ozai were fighting, well, there certainly were a lot of rocks, so it’s not like it didn’t make sense. (There’s a meta here that touches a bit on the necessity of the Aang needing the Avatar state physically unblocked, too.)

“Ozai was a stereotypical, boring villain! He was barely given any screen time!”

This isn’t entirely untrue. Everything viewers are told about Ozai is from other characters in the narrative; mostly Zuko, but also Azula and I’d argue Iroh, too. Ozai certainly was the big bad of the series, and little is provided regarding his personality beyond being power-hungry, racist, xenophobic, and abusive. But… that’s kind of the point. Ozai is written to have zero redeemable qualities. There is supposed to be zero sympathy for him. Hell, there’s arguably even zero reason for him to live on (which actually makes Aang’s decision to spare his life all the more powerful, but that’s for later). There’s one line in particular that really defines Ozai’s character to me:

“You’re [Aang is] weak, just like the rest of your people [the Air Nomads]! They did not deserve to exist in this world… in my [Ozai’s] world!”

Ozai is the epitome of fascism, imperialism, and a superiority complex if there ever was one in a cartoon. His words remind the audience that maybe he didn’t initiate the Air Nomad Genocide, but he continues to seek the same goal - obliteration of anyone he deems inferior (which is, well, every nation except his own). Aang’s battle with Ozai is literally a fight against fascism, and that’s a hell of a powerful metaphor. So while I understand leaning towards the Agni Kai in terms of familiarity with the antagonist (aka Azula), I do think some people gloss over Ozai too quickly. Yes, everyone knows that Ozai is a genocidal dictator, but I don’t think the implication of that position - especially what it means to Aang - really sinks in for everyone.

And now for the big one:

“Aang should have killed Ozai!”

If you are reading this and for some godforsaken reason think Aang should have killed Ozai, I beg of you: read these metas and analyses about Aang and his arc explaining exactly why that’s the wrong take. This point has been argued a million times over and the fact of the matter is that Aang choosing to spare Ozai’s life and thus uphold his beliefs as an Air Nomad is the ultimate triumph (a direct parallel to the Air Nomads being forced to fight back against the firebenders during Sozin’s attack and were thus not able to uphold their beliefs - the ultimate sacrifice). Furthermore, Aang choosing to spare Ozai’s life but take his bending is arguably a fate worse than death for Ozai. Ozai now lacks all of his power/prestige, will be forced to watch the son he despises rebuild his country, and any lingering supporters he may have can’t argue “oh well the Avatar had no reason to kill him!” because Aang didn’t kill him. He chose mercy. He proved himself better and stronger than Ozai could ever hope to be.

Furthermore, Aang staying true to his beliefs as an airbender is central to his character. The core belief of the Air Nomads was that all life was sacred (such was why they were all vegetarians). If he had killed Ozai, if he had been forced to betray his spiritual beliefs, then he would have completed the genocide of the Air Nomads that Sozin started a hundred years ago. Ozai’s death at Aang’s hands = the death of the airbenders’ culture. Full stop. How could he be expected to bring balance to the four nations if only three remained? Maybe this is just me, but the message of Aang being an airbender (the last airbender) and finding another way (e.g. energybending) to defeat Ozai in order to uphold the beliefs of his people is a much more powerful message than him having to kill Ozai (especially because no one else understood how important Aang’s spirituality was to him [not even the Gaang!]; Aang did what was right, even when the world insisted he was wrong).

(Sidenote: The previous Avatars did not tell Aang to kill Ozai. That’s right - not even Kyoshi. I believe she gave him this advice: “Only justice will bring peace.” Great news! Aang did exactly that. Why are some people still so pressed about it??)

Furthermore, if someone calls Aang’s beliefs and his decision not to kill Ozai childish (we’ve all seen those posts), I’m giving you permission to deck them, because so much of the roots of the Air Nomads’ spirituality is rooted in Buddhism, and like,, we know westerners struggle to comprehend any narrative that isn’t our own, but the dismissal of Aang’s beliefs without making the connection that they’re also dismissing the beliefs of many, many real people? Yeah, please sock those assholes in the jaw. Give them the finger. Glare at them. Whatever works for you. Those are the people with the most superficial opinions on A:tLA, and to be honest, it really shows. Please: make an effort to understand the eastern narratives at work within A:tLA. If you don’t, there are so many things you will miss out on, and you’ll also just look like a prick.

For me, Aang’s battle with Ozai is so powerful (and my favorite) because of the ending and its importance to Aang:

“I’m not gonna end it like this.”

Aang chooses mercy by taking Ozai’s bending instead of killing him.

Aang chooses to uphold the beliefs of his people and guarantee the Air Nomads live on in him.

Aang proves his soul is unbendable.

Aang enters and controls the Avatar of his own accord (not induced by trauma or a spirit).

Aang reconciles his being the Avatar with being the last airbender.

Aang is finally at peace with himself and the world around him.

In short, if a person doesn’t understand Aang and his character, then the significance of his final battle with Ozai will largely be lost, and thus it makes sense that they would gravitate more to the Agni Kai (which is arguably a less nuanced battle, as Azula’s position as a victim of abuse and Zuko’s tale of redemption are not exclusive to either western or eastern narratives, while Aang’s arc is largely more eastern in nature and thus something less familiar to western audiences).

I have no doubt that my personal bias influences my admiration of the final battle with Ozai, as Aang is my favorite character and his narrative is easily the most powerful to me (he is the sole survivor of genocide who still chooses to seek kindness in life instead of revenge), but regardless I’d argue the sheer thematic weight of Aang’s battle with Ozai outweighs that of the Agni Kai any day (although, to be fair, they are presenting different subjects, so take my feelings there with a grain of salt).

The Agni Kai is a tragedy. It is devastating. It makes you cry. Aang’s battle with Ozai is a triumph. It is hope. It makes you take a deep breath and look to tomorrow with a brave smile. And that is why it is the battle that concludes the series.

TL;DR - Both are fantastic battles in their own merit, but Aang’s battle with Ozai is underappreciated because of the fandom’s incomplete grasp on Aang’s arc and character while the final Agni Kai is often appreciated/hyped up for the wrong (*cough* shipping *cough*) reasons.

[akitsune-lune]

a lukewarm defence of Blossomfall

or: How I learned to stop worrying and love the IvyBlossom

Hi there. Do you have a minute to talk about Blossomfall?

My goal here

Analyse Blossomfall’s behaviour in OOTS. Clear up misconceptions and aim to change people’s minds regarding the relationship between Millie, Briar, n Blossom, as well as making a case for IvyBlossom not in fact being A Toxic Evil Ship Propagated by Abuse Apologists. This is going to be an extremely long post and hopefully THE Blossomfall Defence Post. Fly, my pretties, share it around, this took so long.

1: The Text

let’s go over everything single thing Blossomfall has done in OOTS so that there’s no way for us to be in disagreement over what she’s done. It’s gonna take a while. This will be everything vaguely important to Blossomfall’s character, but not including shit like characters noticing Blossompaw sitting with her mentor or whatever. You are free to ctrl-f “Blossom” your way through all of OOTS to see if I’m cherry picking passages for my clever scheme to make everyone think about Blossomfall. (spoilers, I’m not)

Fourth Apprentice:

Literally nothing of note. Just filling in random background bits.

Fading Echoes:

P.68 This is pretty much our first look at Blossomfall. She squabbles with her littermates and maybe has a crush on Toadstep.

P.128 next is our first interaction between Ivypaw and Blossompaw. Ivypaw thinks Dovepaw is getting special treatment, and Blossompaw disagrees.

P.149 And a first interaction between Millie and Blossompaw. Blossompaw jumps onto the Great Oak and hurts herself, then Millie fusses over her. This is a pretty good set-up for showing Millie to be a bit of an overbearing mother and no spoilers, but if Millie’s attention suddenly vanished, you could imagine that would leave Blossompaw off-kilter.

P.174 Now we have an antagonistic interaction between Ivypaw and Blossompaw; Blossompaw is rude and thoughtless and it plays directly to Ivypaw’s deepest insecurities. Throughout the assessment, Blossompaw treats her like she’s useless.

P.235 A quick acknowledgement of Briarlight’s siblings cheering for her

P.248 another moment of sisterly affection between them

P.258 The first mention of Thornclaw in relation to Blossomfall. I’ve heard it cited as evidence of Thorn/Blossom set-up, which... seems like a stretch, but maybe.

P.361 And to round out Fading Echoes we get Ivypaw and Blossomfall working together in battle, and Blossomfall being appreciative of Ivypaw’s abilities.

Night Whispers:

P.33 The very first moment of Blossomfall in Night Whispers is an in-text, explicit acknowledgement that Blossomfall and Ivypaw have put their previous quarrels to rest. After that, (P.111) we get a quick moment of Ivypaw and Blossomfall talking like chill Clanmates, which might further support that their previous animosity is gone.

P.114 We get another instance of Blossomfall complimenting Ivypaw, then an exchange which leads Ivypaw to think No wonder Hawkfrost doesn’t visit [Blossomfall’s] dreams.

P.143 After that, we hear Millie bemoaning how her daughter’s life is meaningless now, followed by

P.143 Which would imply that Bumblestripe and Blossomfall would take issue with how Millie talks about Briarlight and her life.

P.327 another moment of Blossomfall showing concern for her littermates, and that rounds off book 3 of OOTS.

Sign of the Moon:

P.178 Blossomfall is now training in the Dark Forest and Ivypool is very upset by it, later thinking ThunderClan cats are loyal.

P.179-180 In Blossomfall’s first training exercise in the Dark Forest, Ivypool interferes and risks punishment to save Blossomfall from injury.

P.181 Blossomfall is ungrateful, but Ivypool doesn’t really react to her remark.

Next, Ivypool wants to speak with Blossomfall about her training in the Dark Forest. Before she has the chance, however, Blossomfall’s old mentor Hazeltail notices that Blossomfall is injured and tries to draw Millie’s attention to it.

P.273 This is our first hint that Millie has something to do with Blossomfall’s training in the Dark Forest. I’d like to point out that it’s Millie ignoring her and not Briarlight that provokes the anger from Blossomfall.

P.276 Twofold - First, Blossomfall doesn’t jump to Thornclaw’s defence when Ivypool calls him bossy, rather she agrees. Blossomfall also rebuffs Ivypool’s efforts to check on her.

P.277 Next, we have Ivypool pushing further, and Blossomfall seems edgy. Ivypool expresses more concern in her head and is scared for Blossomfall.

Now we have the big scene. Ivypool and Blossomfall go exploring in the tunnels and Blossomfall’s character finally gets her moment.

P.279 Blossomfall makes a remark about losing the use of her legs, which could be interpreted multiple ways, a dark joke about what happened to Briarlight, jealousy over the attention that her sister’s condition has resulted in, etc

P.312-313 Now we cut to the heart of the matter. Blossomfall doesn’t even know if Millie loves her anymore.

P.313 “I hate myself for feeling jealous of Briarlight. I can’t help what I feel, and that proves I’m not a good cat.” Because of jealousy and attention-seeking urges, Blossomfall has decided that she’s a bad person and deserves to go to the Dark Forest.

P.313-314

P.323 Then they get back to camp after having been missing for several hours and after Blossomfall has been injured, and Millie lectures her.

P.323 and then there’s the nail in the coffin. I’d also like to draw attention to the fact that Blossomfall doesn’t lash out. She just accepts Millie’s lack of concern for her and her lecturing, while relying on the Dark Forest for validation. She especially is never shown to lash out at Briarlight. That’s the end of Sign of the Moon.

The Forgotten Warrior:

P.247 In book 5, Blossomfall is shown to be again antagonistic, though this time toward Dovewing, and very protective of her littermates, in a negative light this time. This is pretty much the only moment of note for Blossomfall in the whole book.

The Last Hope:

P.67 Now we get the magnum opus of Blossomfall and Thornclaw being chummy and Lionblaze misinterpreting this as meaning they’re going to end up as mates, then realizing it’s actually because they’re training in the Dark Forest together. This is the third time Blossomfall and Thornclaw have been mentioned in the same sentence, and the first time they’ve ever interacted with each other. It’s the first time where they’ve been explicitly friendly; the first BlossomThorn moment was a mention of Thornclaw’s mannerisms rubbing off on Blossomfall and the second was Blossomfall indirectly calling Thornclaw bossy. This is why I say with relative confidence, BlossomThorn in AVoS was not planned in OOTS. Our ‘evidence’ is

Blossomfall thinks he’s bossy

Blossomfall imitated him once

They’re friends because they trained in the Dark Forest together

She has a similar number of moments with Mousewhisker and Toadstep, but I haven’t included them other than the very first moment with Blossomfall because those aren’t the ships that end up canonized. Even with Toadstep, Bumblepaw explicitly says that she’s mooning over him, which is far more indication of future romance than BlossomThorn gets.

ADDITIONALLY in the reprinted version of The Last Hope...

He’s replaced with Mousewhisker! Which knocks BlossomThorn mentions in canon down to just two, only one of which is at least neutral, and they never even interact before she’s nursing his kits! *screm* Erins WHY?

and uh... that’s actually about it for Blossomfall’s moments in Last Hope. She’s lumped in with Mousewhisker, Birchfall, etc with Ivypool and ThunderClan trying to track them down and make sure they don’t fight for the DF, etc, and then she doesn’t, n book ends.

Alright let’s analyse some data.

2: The relationship between Ivy/Blossom

It's toxic and unneeded- just because it's not heterosexual it doesn't mean it's healthy. Blossomfall bullied Ivypool for almost the entire first half of OotS, and just because she supported Ivy once it doesn't mean that they're friends. It means they've moved on and forgiven each other.

Forum post on January 14th, 2019

Alright, I’ve heard some crazy shit about BlossomIvy and I’m here to tell you, forget it. You don’t have to ship them, but if you’re gonna call them toxic, I’m gonna call you full of shit.

Ivypaw and Blossompaw’s first big conflict is during Blossompaw’s assessment, at which point she calls Ivypaw a bad hunter and Ivypaw gets upset. Now pay close attention, folks! This is the only time Blossompaw and Ivypaw argue before Blossomfall starts training in the Dark Forest. After this, once Ivypaw has been training in the Dark Forest, Blossomfall compliments her on her skills and the text explicitly suggests that now Ivypaw and Blossomfall have ‘put their quarrels behind them.’ After that, once Blossomfall begins training in the Dark Forest, Ivypool intervenes on her behalf to save her from injury and is called out by Brokenstar. Blossomfall is ungrateful, but Ivypool shows no regret for helping her.

Then we get the big moment between them in the tunnels. Blossomfall, after being injured, asks Ivypool if she thinks Millie will miss her. Ivypool realizes why Blossomfall is training in the Dark Forest, and Blossomfall confesses that she knows that the Dark Forest is bad news but feels that she deserves to go there because she’s a bad person (cat?).

Something I want to pay special mention to is the fact that Blossomfall is confessing all of this to Ivypool rather than any other main character, because they understand each other. Whether or not you like the ship, it is an undeniable fact that Blossomfall and Ivypool have a great deal of common ground.

They were both taken advantage of by the Dark Forest because of their jealousy over their sisters, they both know that the Dark Forest is up to no good but don’t leave it, and they both acknowledge in no uncertain terms that they’re jealous of cats that would also want something that they themselves have--in Blossomfall’s case, her able body, and in Ivypool’s, her lack of super-powers and involvement in the prophecy. Blossomfall and Ivypool can relate to and understand each other on a level that they cannot their other Clanmates.

Blossompaw and Ivypaw have a moment of animosity in Night Whispers, when Blossompaw says Ivypaw is a bad hunter and that she’d prefer Dovepaw, and Ivypaw is very upset. Then later, again, we get an in-text acknowledgement from another character that Blossomfall and Ivypaw have put their quarrels behind them. After Blossomfall’s assessment, she and Ivypaw only have friendly or neutral interactions. The next time they argue is when Blossomfall joins the Dark Forest, is out of her depth, and Ivypool intervenes to save her. Blossomfall argues that she can take care of herself and Ivypool thinks she’s full of it, but doesn’t push the point.

Then later, they have a bit of an antagonistic interaction where Ivypool is scared that Blossomfall is making the wrong choice by training in the Dark Forest and wants to help her, while Blossomfall rejects her help.

And then of course, the big scene. Blossomfall admits her deepest fear, that Millie no longer loves her, to Ivypool, and Ivypool immediately understands, thinking of her own jealousy of Dovewing.

That’s pretty much a summary of the evolution of the BlossomIvy relationship. For all you visual learners, here’s a handy chart

It’s hardly scientific, but arguing that Blossomfall and Ivypool don’t move from antagonistic to emotionally vulnerable with each other would be a hard stance to take given the sharp difference between the argument during the assessment and the conversation in the tunnels. Even when Blossomfall is telling Ivypool that she can take care of herself after Ivypool saves her from Ratscar, it doesn’t necessitate an interpretation of them as hostile--it can be read as either “I don’t want your help” OR “I can take care of myself” the latter of which invites a lot of classic romance tropes.

If you don’t read their relationship as potentially romantic, they still go from not understanding each other to understanding each other the best out of any other cat in their Clan. That’s a pretty significant development (especially for Warriors oof) so even if you still think Blossomfall is a brat or spoiled or emotionally stunted because of her jealousy of Briarlight, the text shows that Ivypool and Blossomfall at least have the potential to be extremely close friends and confidantes.

And if you DO read their relationship as potentially romantic, first of all welcome to the club, here’s your club-sanctioned hat and waterbottle with an engraved picture of em, and second of all, it’s really not a stretch. Again, they have a great deal of common ground. Blossomfall tells Ivypool her deepest insecurity and Ivypool understands. She doesn’t lecture Blossomfall and disagrees when Blossomfall says that she’s a bad cat. Despite not having a whole lot to go on, what we do have 100% shows them trusting and understanding each other.

Overall, what I want to argue is that THE BlossomIvy argument in Night Whispers is absolutely not enough to write them off as toxic; in fact, it later shows how much their relationship has developed. Additionally, it’s not just some random ship where we picked two she-cats out of a hat and then made a bunch of fan art; they have a legit connection, whether or not you think they have chemistry or are a better ship than say, FernIvy. They are in similar enough situations that they’re able to sympathize with each other more than Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Bumblestripe, Toadstep (?) or any other important cat in their lives can. That’s a helluva lot more to go off of than just “they trained in the Dark Forest together” or “they’re friendly sometimes” like we have for other major ships for the two of them. (Let me also explictly say that I’m not trying to argue that BlossomIvy is more canon than BlossomThorn and FernIvy, because no shit--the latter two have kits and are canonically mates. I’m just arguing over what makes most sense and who would work best as a pair)

3: Blossomfall’s family

Here’s the other major point of Blossomfall’s character; her relationship with her sister and her mother. Let’s answer a few questions. Is Millie actually ignoring Blossomfall or is Blossomfall being unreasonable? Does it matter if Millie is neglecting Blossomfall and should Blossomfall be self-sufficient as an adult? How does Blossomfall’s jealousy of Briarlight affect Briarlight herself, and what is Blossomfall’s relationship with her littermates? How does Blossomfall react to Millie’s perceived neglect?

And we’ll knock em off one by one:

Q: Is Millie actually neglecting Blossomfall or is Blossomfall being unreasonable?

A: This isn’t an easy question to answer. There are arguments to be made on both sides; Blossomfall is a young adult by the time Briarlight is injured (around 18 if you use my AU lol) and therefore probably shouldn’t require her mother’s constant attention. On the other hand, Millie is shown to be very attentive to her children and very concerned when they’re hurt or potentially going to be hurt (149, Fading Echoes). After Briarlight becomes disabled, Millie’s concern for Blossomfall vanishes. Blossomfall is injured training in the Dark Forest (and let  me point out that Blossomfall is not the one who seeks out her mother’s attention; Hazeltail does it on her behalf) and Millie doesn’t care. (273, Sign of the Moon) Later in Sign of the Moon, Blossomfall has hit her head pretty hard and turns up after hours of being missing and Millie’s reaction is to chastise her for not hunting on Briarlight’s behalf. It’s sharply contrasted in-text with how Whitewing reacts to Ivypool, who hasn’t even been hurt. (323, Sign of the Moon) This is a pretty definitive display of how Millie does not care about her other daughter’s well-being anymore. If you’re thinking, “Well, Blossomfall was being irresponsible by running off into the tunnels, so she’s not innocent here” I agree, however let me employ my good friend Extremely Detailed Metaphor to explain why Millie isn’t either.

Let’s put this in terms of a human situation; a high school AU, if you will. I’ll paint a picture; it’s mid-winter, Sunday night. Blossomfall, her mother, and her sister Briarlight, live on a block where everyone is expected to shovel the snow in front of their house. Briarlight and Blossomfall get to school by walking to the bus stop at the end of the street. Millie tells Blossomfall to shovel the snow outside of their house that night so that Briarlight will be able to get to school on Monday in her wheelchair.

Instead, Blossomfall goes to a party, gets drunk, tries to drive herself home, gets into a car accident, and gets a concussion. Millie arrives at the hospital and, without making sure Blossomfall is okay, goes off at Blossomfall, telling her that she should have shovelled the entire block instead of going out to party.

Now, we’re once again in a situation where Blossomfall has been irresponsible, Millie is putting unreasonable expectations on her other daughter out of pity for Briarlight, and Millie is unconcerned about Blossomfall’s well-being. Unquestionably, Blossomfall did the wrong thing by going to a party/exploring the tunnels. BUT. That does not excuse Millie’s reaction. Millie is justified in being upset that Blossomfall is shirking her responsibilities, but not even bothering to find out how seriously she’s been injured is appalling behaviour from a previously-attentive mother. And you don’t need to take my word for it; from Whitewing and Brackenfur’s reactions, it’s obvious that no one thinks Millie is behaving in an acceptable fashion. She blatantly disregards Blossomfall’s well-being.

Seriously, I know it’s a pretty dire accusation, but with both examples of Blossomfall being injured post-Briarlight-injury and Millie either ignoring her or lecturing her, I don’t really know what other conclusion can be drawn. And let’s not villanize Millie utterly; Graystripe gets absolutely no mention in any instance despite being their father, so ??? what’s up with him. Overall, though, Blossomfall is not making up shit. There is literally no example post-Briarlight-injury of Millie showing concern for Blossomfall, only ever ignoring or admonishing her.

Q: Does it matter if Millie is neglecting Blossomfall and should Blossomfall be self-sufficient as an adult?

A: Again, not an easy question to answer. This is highly subjective, but if an adult’s mother suddenly lost all concern for their well-being, I’d argue that would be pretty damn destructive to that adult’s self-esteem. When you turn 18 or become a warrior, you don’t magically become self-sufficient and totally independent from your family, no matter what Warriors wants to tell you lmao. Those relationships are still very important, particularly for Blossomfall since as I’ll argue later, one of the most consistent points of her character is that she is extremely family-oriented. To go from her mother fussing over her and always being concerned for her health to her mother giving less than a shit about her when she gets lost and injured... I don’t care if she’s technically an adult. It’s not about her being attention-seeking or childish, it’s about her being completely cut off from one of the main relationships in her support system for no fault of her own. It does matter if Millie no longer cares about her daughter, whether or not the daughter in question is 16 or 18, an apprentice or a warrior. Blossomfall has lost an important relationship in her life, and it does a big hit to her self-esteem.

Q: How does Blossomfall’s jealousy of Briarlight affect Briarlight herself, and what is Blossomfall’s relationship with her littermates?

A: Oh good, an easy one at last. First, Blossomfall doesn’t blame Briarlight. She blames Millie. Second, Blossomfall is only ever shown to be loving and caring toward her sister. Third, (again) the most consistent thing about Blossomfall is that she puts her family first. The first two points can be supported in tandem; if Blossomfall truly blamed Briarlight for Millie’s disregard of Blossom, then why are all her interactions with her sister warm and loving? Very unfortunately, we don’t have many interactions between Briar and Blossom of any kind post-Briar-injury, but Blossomfall and her brother are the first to cheer for her at Briarlight’s ceremony (235, Fading Echoes) and Blossomfall eagerly brings fresh-kill to share with Briarlight (248, Fading Echoes). Later, Dovewing and Poppyfrost overhear one of Millie’s little monologues about how Briarlight’s life is ruined and Poppyfrost remarks that it’s a good thing Bumblestripe and Blossomfall didn’t overhear her. Draw your own conclusions, but to my understanding, this is a pretty plain demonstration that “Millie thinks Briarlight’s life is ruined and Bumblestripe and Blossomfall vehemently disagree, to the point at which they would start a big argument with their mother over that point” is common knowledge in ThunderClan. (143, Night Whispers)

Time and time again, Blossomfall loves and supports her sister. There’s no instance of Blossomfall putting the blame of Millie’s behaviour on Briarlight, only on Millie herself. In the big moment in the tunnel, Blossomfall doesn’t say “Do you think Briarlight would happy if I died and she got all Millie’s attention to herself?” she says “Do you think Millie would miss me?” followed by “I can’t bear seeing [Briarlight] suffer.” (312-313, Sign of the Moon) It’s not about Briarlight. She loves her sister and at the same time, cannot help being jealous of her, because it’s about Millie’s attention.

Finally, Blossomfall’s family is incredibly important to her. She and her littermates are continuously used for Dovepaw to angst about how she and Ivypaw are no longer close. For example, we get Blossomfall fretting over both of her siblings (327, Night Whispers), then Blossomfall being petty and upset because Bumblestripe chose to train with Dovewing instead of her and Bumblestripe dismissed her as being ridiculous (247, Forgotten Warrior). I’m not saying Blossomfall was in the right, there, but it does show Blossomfall’s devotion to her family and her expectation that her littermates do the same. There are also all of the above examples of them cheering at Briarlight’s ceremony, Blossomfall bringing fresh-kill to share with Briarlight, and the implication that Blossomfall and Bumblestripe would object to the way that Millie talks about Briarlight.

Q: How does Blossomfall react to Millie’s perceived neglect?

A: Another fairly easy one. Blossomfall puts on a front of not caring. When Millie admonishes her for daring to get lost and hurt, Blossomfall doesn’t lash out at her mother, much less Briarlight. She never fights back, she doesn’t tell her mother that she’s being callous and neglectful, she accepts it silently and then tells Ivypool, verbatim, “Whatever. This is just the way that it is now.” She rolls over and accepts it, as much as it hurts her, and the Dark Forest takes advantage of that unresolved pain. (323, Sign of the Moon)

Even earlier in Sign of the Moon, when Blossomfall has just begun training in the Dark Forest (suggesting she has been ignored by Millie long enough that the Dark Forest has been able to draw her in) she wakes up injured and Hazeltail notices. Blossomfall brushes it off, which I would infer is because she’s adjusted to her pain and injury being ignored but you can read as an isolated incident if you really want to, but Hazeltail insists on bringing Millie’s attention to it. Millie dismisses it and Blossomfall is angry, but silent, which again, I would infer is because that’s what Blossomfall expected from Millie and is hurt to have her expectation confirmed (273, Sign of the Moon). This can’t be read as an isolated incident, because Blossomfall is already training in the Dark Forest, therefore Millie has been ignoring her for a while now.

4: Is Blossomfall a bad person?

In conclusion, no.

Blossomfall is upset when her mother stops caring about her well-being and believes that she deserves to go to the Dark Forest because of her jealousy over her sister (313, Sign of the Moon). I’m not saying that her self-hatred means she’s a good person, but it’s obvious that she wouldn’t choose jealousy if she had the option to not feel this way.

Critically, what I want people to take away from this, is that Blossomfall, like all of us, doesn’t have complete control over how she feels. She cannot choose to wake up and simply not be jealous of her sister and be fine with her mother’s indifference to her well-being. She believes that feeling this way makes her a bad person and would, of course, change if she could. The only thing that is within Blossomfall’s control is how she reacts to her jealousy and hurt. And the way that she reacts is by taking it out on herself, by training in the Dark Forest, and by mentally beating herself up for feelings outside of her control. There is not a single example of her lashing out at Millie, or god forbid her sister Briarlight. She is silent in the face of Millie’s bad treatment of her and supportive and loving of Briarlight. Self-hatred is of course, not a virtue, but our society prefers it to harming others.

That’s why I can say with confidence: Blossomfall is a good person, if prone to occasional self-hatred, pettiness, and thoughtlessness. Those are not flaws that make someone evil, just normal and struggling. She is not perfect and completely loveable, but she is not toxic, or spoiled, or unreasonable. She’s just a person who has been hurt by others’ behaviour and punishes herself for things outside of her control. She loves her family, tries to take care of herself, and doesn’t always perform perfectly.

Thanks for reading. I hope you’re at least thinking a little more about previously formed opinions on Blossomfall and that we all continue to read critically in the future.

End note: So why did I call this a lukewarm defence, anyway? Other than making reference to one of my favourite video essayists, Blossomfall is a complex cat often misunderstood by the fandom, but she’s also a shithead. Post-OOTS, she’s pretty unequivocally a kitty-racist. But she’s also Thornclaw’s wife, so it’s not like that’s the only way her character gets yanked out of its previous characterization for the convenience of the plot. Consider this a defence of Blossomfall in Omen of the Stars by a person who would rather pretend she died just after it and A Vision of Shadows (and later books) has another character in her place. I’m not interested in debating Blossomfall’s behaviour post-OOTS. She’s bad, whatever, but don’t smear the good name of her character development in OOTS.

[dredreadsdrawing]

Oc-tober Day 27: Fantasy

A bunch of my isekai ocs with original stories. Oofy. I will make the quickest of beginnings for em. These don’t tell the whole story, just how it starts and maybe some future details. I got carried away with some lol. Also, please don’t mind the absurd names XD I couldnt think of any, and isekais tend to have weird names anyways lol. Looking at you Miss Sidekick.

1. Second Best: Probably the one I have planned out the most and have even written like the entire plot for in a Quickie Summary ill post another time. This started as an isekai, but uh, i found no need for her to be reincarnated after I developed the story more. Still, the original inspiration for this was isekai lol.

Born in a lower noble family with high ambitions, when she was born plain, they planned to push her to be educated, but an accident defaced her at the age of three and that was it for them. They saw her as a lost cause and found it easier to give up on her. They were having another child anyways. So she was kept in the old, secluded wing of the estate, raised by maids and a single ill-kept tutor while her sister, born blessed and pretty, was spoiled. It happens. The protagonist is restless and takes to running away from the estate, going into the neighboring woods to explore. One day she finds a crying boy, hiding from his servants. She helps him and after hearing him out, they create a childish plan. To murder his step mother.

2. The Villlainess's Lackey:

A girl, let's call her Bronze, is reincarnated into an otome game she played nonstop. She was a hardcore fangirl of a particular character. Not the love interests, or the protagonist named Gold, but the hidden villainess that showed up once the characters graduate. Silver, the protagonists's own best friend turned jealous. Our girl is reincarnated as the lackey of the fake villainess, just a cliche bully trying to kick the protagonist out of high society. Bronze isn't too pleased about being stuck with her. She instead gets to working in the shadows, cornering Silver and spilling the beans on the game's entire story. On how Silver would lose. But not to worry! Bronze will meddle and lie and cheat and perhaps even murder for Silver! Silver is confused and refuses, but comes to accept the help with time. So far everything Bronze predicted has come true. But one thing she believed is wrong. Silver didn't rebel because she was jealous Gold got a guy she liked. She was jealous because she loves Gold. Love triangle shennanigans ensue.

3. To Serve (another that started as isekai but isn't anymore lol)

Eclair is a clumsy new maid, forced to take the job when her parents kicked her out. She was hired to a manor the owners never visit only to use her as a scapegoat. Her job: to take care of the young master. To her surprise, the boy of nine years is malnourished and neglected, the staff predicting his death soon. Unable to give up on such a young boy, Eclair uncovers the mystery on why he's kept secret. He's half fae, and part of his sickness is due to lack of magic. So she goes on a quest to get the boy an artifact to keep him alive, and on the way... Her clumsy ass dies. Her spirit pops out, much to her surprise, and she watches her body get up. A new aura around herself. It seems a wanted criminal has recently been caught and killed, but his soul latched on to the nearest body. Now they have to share it. (lol, yaddayadda he agrees to help the kid, they get the artifact, he slips and dies as he tries climbing the manor windows and she returns to her body with him as a spirit now, she nurses the child but as soon as he is better the fsther wants to just outright murder him so they flee the household to travel to the Fae country and along the way they get closer. Also Eclair is a lesbian and the criminal is gay and their attraction to a nonbinary stranger is a mess they need to make a peace treaty with. :'D)

4. Just a Bystander:

A gal is reincarnated as the first love interest of the Hero of the story. She's meant to be kind, passive, a stepping stone for the Hero to later abandon for more beautiful and powerful women. A stupid role in a story. Because she denied her reincarnation so much, the dick god made her mute. Still, she won't be a pawn. Before the Hero even arrives to the orphanage they meet at, she teaches herself how to read and write, a skill most adults in the village don't have. Once he arrives, the encounters start the same, but our protagonist doesn't play along. The Hero is a brat with a complex already and she ignores every bit of it, making him simultaneously dislike her and try harder to get her attention. His attempts end in a terrible clash where he is supposed to save her from a beast, bearing a scar from being hit by it, but the roles are reversed and she gets hit in the face. In the frenzy, the Hero pulls a sacred sword and is revealed to be the one legends speak of. The adults make a big deal out of his newfound glorious fate, but among the chatter comes the concern of the protagonist's face. She's already mute, and now she's been mutilated. She doesn't have much chance at marriage. She's personally not too sad about it, but to her dismay, the Hero takes it too seriously. He proposes to her and they get 'engaged' (these are children, this promise is entirely on his word, she never agreed to this). Before he goes to get trained in the capital, she gives him a letter he can't read. He takes it as a lover's note and for all the time he spends learning in the academy, he finally deciphers the looong note. It's detailed accounts of how he misinterpreted everything she did and how she has no interest in him at all. And by the time he goes back to the village she will be gone. He runs away on a stolen horse to confront her but it proves true. She got a job with a passing merchant in copying script without telling anyone and is long gone. So begins her independent life.

5. The B-Plot:

Cedar is reincarnated into a game where she is the Villainess, the one to bully the Heroine for seducing her fiancee the prince. In the story, after she is confronted, she is incarcerated and later killed in a fight with the evil forces. Cedar does not want this. So since an early age, she looks for ways out, and surprisingly comes to find she can use magic. Since this was never mentioned in the game, and magic is so rare, she hides this. With research, she realizes her engagement with the prince will mean she gives up over half her magic capabilities to him. That explains it. She will fix this. Once the time comes for her to be engaged to the Prince, she requests to add amendment to the contract, to the surprise of the adults, but they allow it. Her only addition; if three hidden words are spoken that all clauses from the engagement nullify. She would keep her magic. The adults don't realize the extent of this addition, but she holds it dear. As years go by, she trains with what little she has. She makes plans. She realizes the neighboring country is the same as a shounen novel's own isekai series and she seeks to explore it after her ban. She is ready. But.... She has also come to befriend the prince. He's an earnest kid that looks up to her. It's hard to believe his innocent voice would be the death of her. But her resolve is tight and she knows what will come. After he goes on a mission to retrieve the Transmigated Heroine, his attitude shift is clear. And he pubicly shames her at their graduation party, as foretold. Instead of crying, she asks him to repeat his words. He does. "I hate you." The air crackles as her magic comes back with force, draining him of it. She's back to full power, and it's more than she remembered. Everyone looks on with fear as she laughs. She's free. She's sad but she's free. She bids then farewell as she snaps her fingers. She teleports to her room where everything is packed. Then she teleports to the hidden shack outside school campus. She's drained after those big moves, but she has one last thing to do. A potion she brewed that just needed a little magic. She drinks it. And transforms. She won't be Cedar anymore. He will be Oak. And he's going to find the Hero of the neighboring country and join his party.

6. The Selfish Route

A kid is reincarnated as Felicia, the protagonist of a novel where both princes of the land dote on her and she marries into Queendom. Felicia lives without her parents in a manor. The staff mostly takes care of her, as her parents are diplomats and move from country to country. While she has been shown love, she’s always been a nervous wreck, pushing herself hard to get everything right as to not be seen as uneducated by her circumstances. Instead, she is seen as perfect, as she makes a big splash at the first party she attends. She regained her memory at the same age she died, now ten years old and already having met both princes at said party were they were stunned by her. If she remembers the story correctly, the first prince will visit first, named Nicole, then the second prince, named Arthur. She’s back to being nervous and decides to play things as they were written in the story. Going off track feels dangerous! Nicole is written as intelligent and kind. It should be simple enough... But her first visit... completely fails. She stumbles over herself too much, her posture and manners lack, and her gaze never meets the prince’s. He might have been written as kind, but seeing the nervous Felicia, he’s disappointed. He leaves early, and Felicia’s fear solidifies. She’s not as good as the real protagonist was. She can’t sleep that night, and come morning, her staff notices. They crowd her with love and affection, telling her they know her true worth, and that no matter what, they will always be on her side. This comforts her somewhat, and she decides for today’s visit to think outside the box. The second prince is adventurous and daring. She’s still nervous, but when he arrives, she’s already put on clothes for the outside and has a picnic ready. She tells him they’re spending the day outside. He’s confused, but agrees. Their time is spent playing games, eating snacks, and having fun. It ends with them watching the sun begin to set while under a big tree. Then they get to talking. She asks him what he likes to do, and his response is long and convoluted. But it’s essentially this. His brother is better than him at everything. She shakes her head and gets an attitude. She didn’t ask him about his brother. She asked what ARTHUR likes to do. When he doesn’t respond, she makes fun of him. He’s so worried about not being the same as his brother, but he doesn’t have anything he likes. He’s boring. This gets him to respond, and in defending himself, he realizes he does enjoy certain things more than others. Horses and riding them, weapons, learning about the forest and terrain. So she asks him why he isn’t trying to do more of that, instead of barging in on all of his brother’s lessons. Arthur takes this thought to heart, and as he gets up to leave he laughs. He tells her she’s weird, and she starts getting visibly offended. He defends himself, it’s a good weird. He was scared when he learned his brother visited her first, because he’s terrible at formal meetings, but she made this fun. She takes this compliment to heart as well, and as he leaves, she resolves to live the rest of the story not trying to follow the protagonist. But herself. And part of that change, as the year goes by, is her realizing she’s trans. He’d much rather live as a boy. His household is concerned at first, but they slowly become more supportive. It’s the same child, just named Felix now. His parents come to prepare for his coming-of-age ceremony and he’s nervous but he tells them. To his surprise, they accept him. They’ve learned a lot in their many travels, and have broadened their views. In their eyes, this country should do the same, and it’s a pleasure to have their son be the one to start it. They’ll always support him. Nice family moment. Ever since the prince visit, he hasn’t gone to more parties, having been too nervous. But he’s been the talk of nobles his age due to the second prince starting rumors. After he tried rubbing his good day in Nicole’s face, the first prince called him out for liking such a brutish girl. He said they suited eachother. From this little comment, Arthur spiraled. With Felix’s advice, he focused on his training instead of his studies, made friends and became better. But when asked about the interest he showed in the young Felicia at that tea party, he resorted to talking shit. She’s not a well-mannered little lady, she’s a weird girl. Everyone knew now, and waited eagerly for her to make a fool of herself in her coming-of-age ceremony. When the invitations were sent, to Felix’s surprise, one was rejected. The first prince’s. He saw it as a waste of time since he already judged he didn’t like him. Felix becomes scared again, but not over himself. Over the villainess, Lily, who is supposed to be comforted by the prince after being mocked at by other noble children. The day of his ceremony, Felix resolves himself to escape his staff and go watch. He hopes someone else can help her. But as he waits and hears her crying, he realizes no one will. So he steps in. She’s startled, but he calms her down. He’s clumsy in his approach, but sincere. He asks what’s made her sad, and she can’t help to be honest. She tells him that her family makes powerful enemies, and their children always target her. They pick at all her flaws, but the biggest is that she is abnormally tall. Felix comforts her and reassures her that her height adds to her uniqueness. She’s beautiful, and they’re just jealous she can easily be the center of attention. She doesn’t agree. Being the center of attention has been bad in her book. Felix laughs nervously. On that, he can agree. So he gets up instead, and promises her she won’t have people’s eyes on her for the rest of the night. When she asks why, he tells her to go look at the host reveal. He leaves and she gets up. Just as she reaches the rest of the party, the music stops and Felicia’s name is announced. Everyone waits in anticipation to see if Arthur’s rumors were true. Then the speaker changes the name to Felix instead, and out walks the boy that talked to Lily, his mother holding his arm. They dance and the room stares, some laughter hidden poorly behind hands. When the dance is over, it’s customary to wait for volunteers to start a second dance. Only then can everyone join in. Felix waits. And waits. Seconds keep flying by. No one is coming. He expected this, and resolved his heart for it, but still, he’s panicking. Just as he’s about to call it quits, he hears footsteps and looks up at Lily. She asks if she can have the honor of his second dance. He agrees. As they go through the motions, he asks her, didn’t she hate being the center of attention. She told him she does, but if she’s going to have people staring at her anyways. She smiles as they pause. She might as well have a friend by her side with the same problem. He can’t help his own smile from forming, and for the rest of the night they stick close. So starts their beautiful friendship <w< and mayhaps something more.

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester in Episode 43

I watched this ep live which means it was 4-7am to me and I might have missed stuff, but here’s what I remember

When Jester wants to start a bar fight and Fjord knows she’s going for it, so his first comment about it, before she even says she wants to fight is “No killing, Jester.”

And then the others keep trying to talk her out of it but the only opinion she asks is Fjord’s saying “Tusktooth?”

But, like, Fjord (as I’ve yelled about so many times before) enjoys Jester’s shenanigans even when he pretends to be frustrated by them, so instead of talking her out of it, he pretends to be chugging on his ale, which Jester correctly takes as a “go ahead”.

heart eyeeeees

“One gold on the blue one!” Awesome callback to their fight in the Gentleman’s speakeasy, further proof that Fjord is just a chaotic prankster at heart and a reminder that he’s constantly in awe by how badass Jester is.

Fjord’s soft-ass smile after the fight when Jester excitedly declares “Hey, I made a friend!” “Yeah, you kept all your teeth!”

When they are talking about the Divers Grave and they are discussing what kind of monster might be in there and then Jester says “It’s an underwater banshee, for sure.” 

“Is that a thing?” 

“Yeah.”

*knowing full well he’s being fucked with* “Hmmmm.”

I don’t know why that exchange feels so flirty to me, and like the fact that they keep zeroing in on each other during group conversations like they live in their own little bubble, kills me.

The Caleb and Jester talk!!!!!!!!

(I will make a whole separate post dissecting this conversation later)

“Really, none of us like it here but Fjord” “I don’t even know if he likes it a lot” 

Yes! Give me Jester picking up on Fjord’s general discomfort with the situation and how stressed and uneasy he is with how everything’s gone down!

For real though, if I have to see one more post talking about how Jester doesn’t actually care about the real Fjord or how he feels about this whole situation, this talk is one of the very many scenes imma shove on their faces passive-aggressively. 

“Well, there’s parts of it that he likes.” “Like Avantika” “I don’t know”

Rip my heart out, Laura Bailey, why don’t you!

“You’re sweet on him, ja?” “I don’t know...” “Yeah.” “It feels funny.” “How do you mean?”

THIS WHOLE THING WAS SUCH CALL BACK TO VEX AND VAX TALKING ABOUT PERCY THO

“Well, you know when you really like somebody but then you start to know them and you go ‘do I like them, or do I like what I thought they were’? And you don’t know.”

Mfking laura bailey giving us that character growth arc with sheltered naive Jester who believes in love at first sight and the romance all her books talked about and is now beginning to realize that real deep feelings are much stronger and complicated than all of that.

Like the way she says it “feels funny” really says so much.

And I know some people might take this as “oh so she never liked him for real” but I think that would mean taking this conversation entirely out of context. 

This whole arc, Fjord and Jester have had some very big moments together, and I think Jester’s confusion does not stem from being disillusioned with Fjord...

I think the fact is that she’s feeling more than she expected, she’s discovering she likes Fjord in a way she has no words for, in a way that makes her hurt when he talks to Avantika, that makes her confused about their interactions, second guessing his intentions and whether he’s fliriting back with her or not, overanalyzing what his gestures mean, like the kiss...

Jester is in Love with capital L and none of her mother’s teachings and experience have prepared her to handle it.

What I want to talk about here, though, is not about Jester’s confusion per se but how Travis and Matt react to this. Since if anyone is aware of what Fjord feels about this it would be the two of them.

“Do I like them or do I like what I thought they were?”

This is the face of a man who just realized his wife is taking her funny character’s crush and turning it into real feelings and he’s going to be fucked.

WHAT IS THAT LOOK YOU TWO. I CAN SEE YOU. WHAT DO YOU KNOW.

That is the face of a DM who is ready to take the most advantage of this situation in the future.

Bonus: Taliesin “I’ve been in the receiving end of this” Jaffe is enjoying this too much. He is just shaming Travis/Fjord for his bad choices.

“And then you think they are flirting with you but then you find out they probably weren’t, you know?”

Travis’s blush just tells me that there was flirting (which was pretty obvious, and Laura knows it)

“And you feel kinda sad about it and maybe a little stupid?”

LOOK AT THOSE FACES

Travis after that talk contemplating his life choices.

But for real, what kills me about that talk is how familiar it feels, and how confused Jester seems by Fjord’s hot and cold attitude, but she’s not ever blaming him for not liking her, or not living up to her fantasy standards, not even for leading her on,  instead, she’s blaming herself and feeling stupid for not comprehending right away all of these complicated emotions.

Caleb: “Tomorrow we get sorted out, we help Fjord figure out his shit.”

Jester: “Yeah, that’s important to him.”

TELL ME SHE DOESN’T CARE YOU DEMONS I’M WAITING

Also, thank god that Jester talked to Caleb about this because he’s the one person who gave her some sensible advice: let’s focus on surviving and once back on main land you can take your time to figure your feelings out.

He also brings up that this is important for Fjord, which she agrees on. So no matter what, feelings or not, they will support him through this as best as they can.

Which brings us to Caduceus’s an and Fjord’s talk.

I love this conversation in light of what Tal’s said about Caduceus’ point of view during last weeks Talks: he’s aware of how Fjord’s decision to sleep will Avantika will create friction within the group, especially with Jester.

C: “I think this place is dangerous. She is dangerous.” F: “That she is.” 

And Fjord tries to avoid the subject, but now that they are there, you can see Caduceus scrunch his face and take a stab at the subject:

C: “Fjord, you know why everybody is doing this, why we’re all here, right?”

And Fjord sighs heavily because, to a degree, I don’t think he understand the answer is “because we care about you and want to help you”. To Fjord, the answer is: “this is your fault, your responsibility”

F: “Yeah. I mean, I think.” C: “I think you know. I just wanna point it out ‘cause that woman, she doesn’t care what any of us want. I’m sure she’d be interested, but it’s way low in her priorities and I don’t trust anybody who keeps other people’s needs that low in the list. You should keep in mind all that, while you’re getting in bed with her, so to speak.”

Fjord: *panics*

Fjord: *desperately tries to convince Caduceus to keep this knowledge to himself*

And I think, Caduceus with his high AF perception, can tell why Fjord cares so much that this is kept from the others. It’s not like it’s something bad, it’s actually beneficial for their group as a whole (as iffy as that makes me because of the unequal power dynamic), and it has been suggested multiple times.... so what reason does Fjord have to keep it so fiercely in the down-low? 

Friction. 

“I think I get it. I’m not gonna talk out of term. I trust your intentions, so...”

And here’s a good part:

C: “You’re asking if I can tell that you’re conflicted?”

F: “No, I think that’s pretty clear.”

C: “You would be amazed, but alright.”

Because Caduceus knows that not everyone in the M9 —cough, Jester, cough— is convinced that this is all just a play on his part. 

Fjord goes on to reaffirm that he’s trying to keep Avantika close for the party’s good. 

okokokokok

MOVING ON

LET’S TALK ABOUT VERA’S TALK GO JESTER

LET’S TALK ABOUT VERA AFTER KNOWING THEM FOR LIKE 2 WEEKS SINGLING OUT JESTER AS THE PERSON WHO LOOKS AFTER FJORD

LET’S TALK ABOUT VERA TELLING JESTER TO LOOK AFTER FJORD BECAUSE AVANTIKA WILL HURT HIM

“He would not be the first she’s left in ruin. He would not be the last. I would take care of him, if he cannot.”

i am so frustrated that Laura/Jester seemed to misinterpret Vera’s warning help me god someone please bring it up on Talks or something because it will bother me forever

When they are planning: 

Caleb: What if Fjord keeps Avantika busy... 

Beau: Do we need to have him distract Avantika? Can’t we just go now?

...

Beau: And we can have [Caleb] make sure that [Fjord and Avantika] are busy. If you [Fjord] are comfortable with that. You don’t have a lot of a choice. 

FJORD

JESTER

*Nott keeps planning*

JESTER

J: Well, Caduceus is very perceptive. 

F *having flashbacks of Jester going down in the jungle*: THE TWO CLERICS ARE NOT GOING ON THE MISSION TOGETHER.

J: So we all wait until Fjord starts boning....

Fjord’s face journey tho

he is so confused help him

when your crush who was jealous is suddenly ok with u sleeping with someone else

wait i thought she liked me

Fjord’s worried overprotective mode ON as soon as Caduceus casually mentions that two guards stabbed each other and probably everything is pandemonium 

Jester saying they should frame Vera was clearly rooted on her misunderstanding Vera’s warning, but I really like that as soon as she thought someone was a direct threat to Fjord she was like “nope gotta get rid of them”.

Avantika’s notes talk about her having dreams about people who were close to her “chaining her back” and how she had to get rid of them...

...and we’ve seen hints of that with Vandrin and Sabien in Fjord’s dream the other time....

...but I’m calling it that we’ll eventually see Uk’otoa try to pit him against the M9 and the one he’s closest to is Jester by far and I’m sure we’re gonna get some dramatic moment out of it I can’t waiiiit

*After reading the journal*

J: Fjord, as you as crazy as she is? Because holy shit.

Fjord:

I LOVE THEM GOOFING AROUND PLS MAKE EACH OTHER SMILE IN THIS TRYING TIMES

and likek

thanks i love them

anyway

in two weeks

if they don’t die

tune in to see me keep screaming about this two, and cross your fingers for a one on one talk if they manage to get a breather away from Avantika

[thelogicalghost]

The Problem of Hans

With the Frozen 2 trailer drop, I wanted to finally organize some of my thoughts about the original in a post I can link to instead of trying to repeat this argument every time it comes up. 

Before I dive in, I want to emphasize that I am not trying to ‘forgive’ or ‘justify’ Hans being a dick. My goal is to parse his actions throughout the movie and find a plausible explanation for seemingly contrasting character moments.

Part 1: Some Background

The original story of the Snow Queen, on which Frozen was loosely based, set the icy-powered queen as the villain. However, during development, songwriters Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez composed and pitched several songs including “Let It Go” that put the sisters’ relationship at the center of the story. The decision was made to redeem Elsa and make the sisters the heroes, requiring the previously supporting character Hans to become a last-minute villain.

Because of this rewrite, and perhaps in order to preserve the ‘twist’, Hans spends the majority of the movie seeming utterly charming and even heroic. Disney inadvertently created a truly terrible villain, a sociopath capable of utterly fooling an entire country but revealing his evil plans and unfathomable cruelty only to a dying women. However, this also meant that Hans’ portrayal has several serious inconsistencies that bring his twist betrayal into question. These moments continue to bother me every time I watch the movie, creating a conundrum that a purely evil, brilliant, manipulative Hans doesn’t explain.

Taking the finished, theatrical release of the movie as canon, I as the audience was left trying to reconcile these discrepancies into a plausible narrative. First, I’m going to talk about the moments that force me to question the movie’s explanation, and then I’m going to present exactly that plausible narrative.

Part 2: The Bits That Bother Me

There are two moments that trouble me particularly in the movie. One is much more significant than the other, so let’s start with that one.

Hans has gathered a group of volunteers to find the missing royal sisters. Two of these volunteers, attendants to the Duke of Weselton, have been ordered by the Duke to kill Elsa. As they approach Elsa’s ice palace and are confronted by her snow monster, these two men take advantage of the confusion to run ahead of the group. Both try to shoot Elsa with crossbows. Elsa defends herself, pinning one man to the wall with ice spikes and pushing the other man onto a balcony with a sliding wall of ice. 

Just as she’s about to push the second man off of the balcony, where he would fall to his likely death, Hans and the rest of the men arrive. Hans shouts, “Queen Elsa! Don’t be the monster they fear you are.” Elsa pauses, realizing that she had been about to kill. The first man tries to take advantage of this pause by raising his loaded crossbow for a final shot. Hans, after quickly glancing upward, dashes across the room to yank the man’s arm up and send the bolt toward the ceiling. This sends an ornate ice chandelier falling to the floor. Elsa jumps out of the way but is knocked unconscious.

The key moment here is Hans’ intervention. Let’s consider the logic of this moment based on an evil, manipulative Hans:

If Hans wanted Elsa dead and out of the way, he could have:

Ordered his men to attack. She was obviously having difficulty managing two assailants, but attacking them with her ice powers could have been a perfect excuse to need to take her down

Continued to distract Elsa so that the first of the Duke’s men could shoot her

Grapple with the man but let the crossbow ‘go off’ to hit Elsa, either killing her (since he could obviously aim it very well) or prolonging the fight and creating other opportunities

If Hans wanted Elsa alive for some reason, but wanted a great excuse to kill or dethrone her later, he could have:

Said nothing, let her kill a soldier from a neighboring country, making her a killer and potentially exacerbating a diplomatic incident

Said literally anything else to provoke/manipulate her or the situation, for example, beg her to surrender (which she wouldn’t, making her look like the bad guy) or urge his men to save the Duke’s men (which would have turned into a full conflict that might have resulted in her wounding or killing her own people)

Instead, Hans appeals to her humanity. He says something calculated to make her stop and consider what she had been about to do. Then he takes an action that was much less likely to do her harm - Elsa had plenty of time to dodge that chandelier - but disrupted the standoff and diffused a tense situation. 

No matter which way I look at this scene, Hans’ actions just don’t make sense if he sees Elsa as an obstacle to the throne.

The second moment I want to mention is much smaller, but to me, equally disconcerting. It happens much earlier, at the end of the scene in which Hans and Anna meet.

Memorably, their initial meeting ends with the two of them standing in a boat that is perched precariously on the edge of a dock. As Anna leaves, both of them seeming quite taken with each other, Chekhov’s boat finally tips over and dumps Hans in the water. As he lifts up the overturned boat, Hans gives the departing Anna a fond smile.

This smile is what bothers me so badly. Hans, in this moment, has no audience. He is under a boat off the edge of a dock. Even his horse would have difficulty seeing him from that angle. Yet his expression contains no spark of malice. It’s gentle and hopeful, suggesting that he’s as smitten with her as she clearly is with him. If Hans were a sociopath, he would need to put effort into faking this expression, and why would he without an audience? There is absolutely no reason to think that his feelings in this smile are not completely genuine, except for the fact that he later claims they’re fake.

Which leads me to ...

Part 3: A Plausible Narrative

Hans arrives in Arendelle and meets Anna. She’s young and clearly unpolished but sweet and authentic. During the coronation ball, they enjoy each other’s company. Hans sees a woman who clearly lacks practical education and whose romantic ideas could land her into a lot of trouble, but whose spontaneity and youthful energy he appreciates. 

Now, in the mid-1800′s, like in most of European monarchical history, marriage among royalty is not a matter of love but of exchange and consolidation of goods and power. Hans suspects that there are problems in Arendelle. The princesses have been sequestered completely in the years since their parents’ deaths. Perhaps the reason Anna’s been kept behind locked doors is that she’s prone to thoughtless acts of romanticism that could easily bring harm to the royal family. He can’t offer the family riches or titles, but he can provide this woman the trappings of romance, be patient with her, and in time, nurture a genuinely loving relationship. He can promise to reign in her impulsive behavior and encourage her to act in ways that benefit the kingdom. Maybe he can offer more, in terms of what experience and knowledge he’ll bring to the table as a prince from a powerful nation, but first he has to talk to the queen.

Surprisingly, when he and Anna approach Elsa, the two sisters seem to be misinterpreting his offer of engagement and negotiations as an offer to run off to the church, like, NOW. Elsa gives a public, automatic rejection. Anna confronts her in an embarrassingly public argument. Then, of course, something happens that Hans couldn’t have predicted: Elsa reveals that she has ice powers, freezes the harbor, and sets a snowstorm on the country.

Without consulting anyone or taking anyone with her, Anna rides off to find her sister. Instead of calling on any of the advisers, minor nobility, or other titles of the realm, Anna puts Hans in change. Hans is not only shocked at the impropriety and irresponsibility, but the fact that no one seems to challenge him for that position. Everyone, local or visiting, is content to turn to this visiting prince, despite the conflict earlier in the ballroom. Well, if he’s what they’ve got, he’ll take that duty. He hopes to eventually be part of the royal family, after all, so these will soon be his people. He sorts out emergency responses including hot food and thick blankets, walking through the streets himself to aid in distribution.

Anna’s horse appears, riderless and distressed. Now Hans is deeply concerned. It seems that whatever sisterly means Anna intended to use to calm Elsa have failed. He organizes an expedition to travel up the mountain, taking volunteers (not hand-picking people who might be loyal to him, note, but inviting people who genuinely care about their monarch to help find her). He probably plans this trip and finds at least one guide, because he gets to the palace shortly after Anna leaves.

Despite having to battle a giant snow monster and nearly falling to his death, when Hans sees the standoff between Elsa and the Duke’s men, he says what he hopes will be the most effective at calming her down. He sees an opportunity to diffuse the standoff by destroying the chandelier, which knocks the queen unconscious. Despite having every opportunity and a long journey back to the city, Hans takes Elsa, unharmed, to the palace dungeons and restrains her.

When Elsa comes to, he begs her to break the curse. This is when Elsa says, simply, “I can’t,” and begs him to let her go. She doesn’t even know where Anna is.

Now, if Elsa was thinking even slightly rationally, she would know that Hans can’t simply let her go. She plunged the city into deep winter. IF the effect is related to proximity, leaving might help, but if it’s not - and Elsa clearly isn’t in control of this curse, how does she know? - then they’ll have lost the opportunity to track her down again and try something else. People are going to die. 

A visiting dignitary tells Hans that, if something’s happened to Anna, he’s “all Arendelle has left.” The message is clear: this is on his shoulders. The fate of thousands of lives and an entire country rests on him. He wants to go look for Anna again because she maybe will have some idea of how to break the curse.

And then Anna shows up, cold and dying. What she says to Hans, specifically, is that she was wrong about Elsa never hurting her, that Elsa has frozen her heart and only an act of true love can save her.

This is the last straw. Sure, eventually Hans would probably have grown to love Anna, but true love at first sight? That’s absurd. And of course, there’s no one else. Clearly something terrible has happened between the sisters, so hoping for love there is pointless. He’s been here two days and not seen so much as a close family friend who might potentially love the girls enough to save them. So now he has a country buried in snow in the middle of the summer by a queen who can’t control her ice curses, and the non-magical princess is going to die.

So Hans does a crappy thing and takes his anger out on a girl who’s going to die. He mocks her for being naive and impulsive, gives her the worst possible scenario just to make her feel stupid, and enjoys her shock and pain. And then he douses the fire and opens a window to make sure she dies quickly, because now Hans has a plan.

You see, witchcraft is a really flimsy excuse for executing a sitting queen, especially when he’s only just got here. But with everyone present perfectly happy to take his word for events, Hans comes up with a way to save everyone and take the kingdom without looking like a monster. All he has to do is say that he and Anna exchanged vows. Elsa’s killed Anna, so now he’s going to execute her for murder. Every story about magic from the era and before suggests that slaying the person who cast the curse will end the curse. He’ll save Arendelle not only from eternal winter, but also from two girls who almost destroyed their own nation with their magic and incompetence.

But, of course, both girls escape, Anna stops Hans and saves herself, and Elsa finally realizes what the trolls should have told her parents all those years ago and saved everyone a lot of pain: love is the key to melting the effects of her powers. 

So Hans is arrested for attempted regicide (despite his actions being assented to and supported by everyone else present), Arendelle cuts off its largest trading partner for the Duke’s role in events, and Anna starts spending time alone with a commoner while Elsa continues to show no interest in marriage arrangements, further eroding the stability of the monarchy. Not to mention the potential massive agricultural and economic problems from the two-day winter.

Part 4: In Conclusion

As I said earlier, I’m not trying to defend Hans’ actions entirely. His tirade at Anna when they were alone was nothing short of abusive. What I’m trying, instead, to offer is an explanation of why his supposed confession doesn’t fit with some of his actions during the course of the movie. I’m trying to frame the events of a movie set in a historical time period in a way appropriate to that time period.

(Yes, I know, it’s a kid’s movie and to some extent a fairy tale, but if your best argument is “well reality should be handwaved for the story” then I would counter that the story’s inconsistencies were actively harmful to the intended message. If the point was to make Hans a gaslighting monster, then don’t make his actions plausibly rational and rely on a single scene to demonstrate that he’s actually monstrous.)

I’ve tried my best to keep this post limited to the content of the movie and extrapolations made from that material. I don’t think Hans should be brought back as a romantic interest (GIVE ELSA A GIRLFRIEND DISNEY) and I don’t think any backstory, up to and including Hans himself suffering abuse, justifies his cruelty. That said, I continue to hope that Frozen 2 will see the return of Hans not as an all-out villain but as someone who knows he’s made mistakes and is working to be a better person.

I mean, if Elsa can be forgiven for plunging the kingdom into eternal winter, maybe Hans can find some resolution, too?

[entamewitchlulu]

Arc V Anniversary Discussion Day 15: Headcanons

brooooooooooo this could be a longass post lemme tell you, I’m barely even sure where I should start.  I mean, most of my headcanons I’ve already talked about at length, esp my big ones like trans boy Yuya, so I think I’ll hold off on sharing the sexuality/gender headcanons today.

Instead, I think I’m gonna talk about something I’ve wanted to talk about for a while: my headcanons for what kind of spiritual and magical abilities that the Arc V cast has.

under the cut cause this is long

Yuya

This is already confirmed by canon so it’s not quite a headcanon, but Yuya can hear Duel Spirits.  He doesn’t necessarily hear words, but he gets impressions of their emotions and desires. As a child he misinterpreted this as his imagination, or projecting his own feelings onto them, but post-series he realizes that he truly was hearing them.  With his powers boosted by becoming whole with his counterparts once again, he redevelops the ability to understand and speak Duel Spirit languages.

Yuya also has a unique and rare ability from my interpretation of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe known as Enflaming. Simply by interacting with people, or indeed even just being around them, he agitates other souls into manifesting latent abilities, so people who had the potential for magical, soul-based abilities but never manifested them start to develop them after having come into contact with Yuya.

Yuto

Yuto had the underdeveloped ability to see Duel Spirits outside of a duel; nothing too solid, but he could catch little glimpses and impressions of them, as well as sense the pressure they gave out.  He was actually under the impression that he was seeing ghosts for a very long time.  Once he becomes one with Yuya, they all are able to see Duel Spirits clearly.

Like Yuya, Yuto can also hear Duel Spirits, but he can really only get the impression of emotion from Dark Rebellion.

Yugo

While Clear Wing is the one guiding him, the dimension hopping abilities that Yugo uses are actually inherent to him, himself, with Clear Wing just giving him a boost.

Yuuri

Yuuri had similar abilities to hear and sense monster emotions like Yuya, but due to a series of childhood incidents involving experimentation on his brain by both Roger and the Doctor, the barriers between himself and his monsters grew incredible thin and fragile.  Their own emotions frequently leak into his brain and he and they often have trouble distinguishing themselves as separate beings.  This is particularly evident with Starving Venom, as the two of them often seem very confused as to where one of them ends and the other begins, their emotions constantly backfeeding into each other until they lose a lot of their separate identities, especially when tensions are high or when Yuuri is very excited.  Once assimilated with Yuya, Yuuri finds himself much more separate from Starving Venom and is able to consider himself as an individual being (albeit one assimilated with three others), which accounts for him being much more calmed down during the last arc.

Yuzu

Yuzu, and in fact all of the bracelet girls, have a watered down echo of Ray’s empathic abilities.  Yuzu’s variety makes her slightly more attuned to the sense when something bad is about to happen, giving her a sense of uncertain ominousness before something occurs, but without direction for what exactly that is.

Yuzu also is the incarnation that absorbed the excess energy from the En Flowers, so not only does she cause the Yuuboys to separate when they come near each other, but she also has a boost to her empathetic powers when in the presence of uncut flowers.  She’s essentially gathering the echoed memories and intuition of the flowers subconsciously, which makes her more alert and aware to whatever is going to happen.  As she is rarely, if ever in a flowered location in Arc V, it’s not until post-series that she deduces this.

Ruri

Ruri’s variety of Ray’s psychic powers is a slighter version of empathy.  She’s more in tune with other people’s emotions, and if there’s enough high emotions happening around her, she can find herself more affected because she senses them as though they were her own emotions subconsciously.  This is very much why she clings to Smile Dueling so much, because in the wake of the invasion, the negative emotions constantly surrounding her overwhelm her.  She’s not aware of her abilities and thinks this is normal.  Once she assimilates with Yuzu, Yuzu and she both gain a much more refined emotional empathy that they learn to minimize when they need to focus.

As the incarnation that absorbed the excess energy from En Birds, as well, Ruri is very much in tune with actual living birds, and the birds themselves seem to remember her as Ray and often come to her without prompting or fear.  She can’t understand them, but she can get faint impressions of emotion from them.

Rin

Rin’s inheritance from Ray takes the form of a personal intuition, giving her little flashes of insight about when she needs to quickly duck behind a corner to hide from a surprise Security officer, or the nagging sense that someone is following her.

Her En Winds power also gives her a slight psychic vision when the wind blows.  It’s a bit like echolocation, giving her a slight impression of what things are shaped like in a twenty foot radius if there is wind blowing around them.

Selena

Selena’s psychic/empathic powers are actually far more stunted than the other girls, as Leo occasionally implemented ways to reduce her abilities since he believed it was Ray’s empathic powers that caused her to think she could face Zarc in the first place, and he wanted to make sure once he had her back, she wouldn’t do anything like that again.  Selena does still have the remnants of Ray’s monster empathy, though, able to sort of sense Duel Spirits’ emotions (but at a far lesser intensity than the boys can).

As the receptacle for En Moon, Selena actually does get more energy during a full moon, and gets more tired during a new moon.  As people often joke about kids getting more hyper during full moons, Selena doesn’t realize that she’s actually channeling energy from the moon.

Shun

Shun actually has a bit of Duel Spirit ancestry from way back in his bloodline, which while it doesn’t grant him as many powers as it would if he were half or quarter duel spirit, gives him a more honed sense of intuition, especially about others’ intent. This is why despite his misgivings, he ended up trusting Yuya and was able to slightly hear Yuto talking to him from within Yuya, as well as why he was very much honed in on Dennis as a potential traitor.

Tsukikage

Tsukikage also has a bit of Duel Spirit ancestry, which while he’s definitely an able warrior without it, accounts for some of his more superhuman abilities, like jumping off a moving bike and running just as fast as it to get an Action Card.

Reira

mostly confirmed by canon anyway, but Reira is an empath, and an incredibly powerful one.  They can feel people’s emotions even through a camera feed, even if the person is miles away in actuality, and if they know who they’re looking for, they can hone in on a person’s emotions and location from up to a mile away.

Dennis

Dennis has what one would call very minor suggestion abilities.  Not that he’s not already pretty good at what he does, but come on, this kid telegraphs himself pretty hard in-show, and barely anyone calls him out on it.  He doesn’t even know that he’s doing it, but especially when he does his card tricks and performances, he’s layering them with a very thin layer of persuasive magic that attracts attention and makes people slightly more inclined to give him their attention.  People already inclined to trust him will also be more willing to trust what he has to say.

Gongenzaka

Gongenzaka doesn’t have any flash abilities, but what he does have is a rare magic immunity.  This makes him impervious to any sort of suggestion magic, illusions, curses, etc, but it also means he can’t be affected with beneficial abilities, either.

they’re the only ones off the top of my head that i’ve developed ideas for, but i’m sure i’ll get more later, lol.  I might have some fics planned

[meandmyechoes]

So I think I’ve done more Chinese writing than I’ve had in the past five years during last month. It was... exhausting, but I also enjoy spinning it a little rewriting the novel in a different language. 

Now I’m actually writing a full length prose, one can finally see the trauma left by my middle school teacher. There’s like, at least 30% idioms in my chapters. I just, I’ve been conditioned into stuffing as much idioms as I can UNDER JUST A YEAR, and there’s no turning back. I mean, yes, idioms are excellent to convey ideas concisely, but they could be pretentious if overflown; especially when you write in a language that leans towards colloquialism as Cantonese. I just know a lot of idioms and sometimes it’s difficult not to use these minimalist words? I know where the line lies though. It’d be good to sum up an event, but re-consider if they are superfluous adjectives. 

Well, getting into this mess did inspired me to write two poems and a drawing, so I guess it has some benefits in the end?

Onward, I do miss writing English fiction so bad. I wrote a few essays in the meantime, but the last time I wrote a story was what? last summer? I should just sit down and write it like I’m doing now. I’ve been watching a ton of panels & interviews stuff, digging up the gems of Star Wars weekends. It’s hilarious and I want to make a non-show TCW resources masterpost later on. But just combing through that comics list is quite a work, and I have to sort out the download links. yeah. 

But like, I meant to talk a little about lunar new year in the diary post. And I actually have something never fully plumbed in my draft regarding some... rumour that I’ve now forgotten. Well, I want to say that it’s been a hectic month. I barely know what I did since the year started. Life’s still shit, but it’s very oblivious, you know. I don’t need to go into details here, it won’t change anything overnight. Just so if anyone’s reading, I’m of sound health, just moody. 

Let’s talk about something I haven’t even discussed inside my own head. So the past month, we’ve basically been helping my gramps move and renovating our own house as well. Very often we worked very late and it completely drained me. But I know Mom is working a lot harder than I am and I want to do my best to lessen her worries. In principle, I would gladly help out but it’s this, tcwaw, the translation, and the deadline of making a cny outfit, and mom breathing down my neck to exercise with the fam, plus having my hair cut in three years rather unwillingly, on top of my terrible self-maintenance (and that ever-lasting shadow of my college). phew, it’s a lot. and I got really, really depressed because I couldn’t finish tcwaw. I feel like, I’m betraying a pact or something okay. I know I took this too seriously and well, any day is tcw appreciation day here. but I tried really hard to make something and I really wanted to complete the challenge, to do this together. So at least, I’m letting myself down. and then there’s the fact that the first post didn’t garner as much notes as I wanted... but all of them are quality responses so thank you... (brb crying again)

Next, I’ve bitched about this many, many times but the negativity of the Forum! Like, pal and i are trying very hard to sway it back into some positive discussion and actual content with the translation, but these men are even bitchier than i am when it’s about the sequels. Like, I don’t expect a comment, it’d be a blessing if someone even clicked readmore. I’m doing it more out of my own interest but damn those manbabies! I understand the internal misogyny in Cantonese swears. Yet, it is the user that chose to aim that tool at a very public platform to express their anger. I just, expect, humans to be better-versed? The worst one of them is a father to a little girl! I’m not saying you can’t complain, I’m saying make it count. 

THE (COMPLETE LACK OF) READING COMPREHENSION ON THAT SITE. okay, let’s go all out bitch. Like, I would expect my partner to be a little better at this, like he reads, right? but no. not only did he misinterpret a singular question on the forum that effectively brought my intention to raise discussion to a full stop, he often mistranslate lines, and just, he’s just a stereotypical straight guy with a stereotypical view on “women + star wars”. It’s wearing me out and I don’t really find anything to learn from that guy. But I also pity him and it’s just bad practice for me to ghost people and cut off another unnecessary backdoor. It’s like he doesn’t really have anyone to talk to about Star Wars, and his contribution to the local fanbase is objectively admirable. This guy still thinks I’m a fellow dudebro, who might be a little obsessed. He has stepped on my toes before (and our circadian rhythm is just, opposite) and well, I learnt to be patient and ask for clarification before giving the other person a lecture. So I guess I could milk some benefits out of this relationship. It will fade eventually anyway. (For the record, I do not think this is deception. My gender is simply unnecessary professionally.)

And you know what’s really funny, to this day, I haven’t revealed I am a girl either on the forum or privately. But I’ve implied so before. I said, young girls like action figures too but unfortunately *I* personally don’t find them pretty-looking enough to buy as a child. I didn’t want to give it out then and still don’t now, but I thought that was quite easy a hint to read? (Because if I’m not a girl, my personal experience carries no weight, and so the only logical conclusion for the relevance and necessary inclusion of that example, is that I’m a girl) (and this is discounting all the Gina mess before. They are quite reasonable with that. but wonder why no one ever brought up her transphobia?) 

I don’t know, sometimes just reading them joke about how women don’t understand star wars, do i laugh or shake my head? Like, of course they won’t talk to you if you don’t contribute to the fandom. Why would anyone choose a whining fanboy over a creative writer? Like, do I charge in and say haha fool’s on you, I’ve been a girl all along and you guys are liking my meta posts like leeches. That’s ridiculous. Like, I wouldn’t mind influencing and slipping awareness on feminist issues in Star Wars, but also what am i to condition these strangers on the Internet? I know I have a saviour complex but I should hold them to the same standard as myself, as a responsible adult, right? I just wanna charge in and write about what it really means to read Star Wars through a feminist lens, and how the “representation” they thought was doing right and where it’s not enough, but I know it will fall on deaf ears. and I just wanna swing a bat and ask them to celebrate Star Wars instead. Otherwise the rational action is leaving that space for good, I’m just too busy. alas, alas.

update: [22/2/21]

last weekend they’ve come to talk/joke about how they’ve never meet a female star wars fan. Given, I haven’t in real life either. It was already a less-than popular hobby than most. But it’s the tone they talk about, without ever realizing there is/could be an ”undercover” agent. It’s an unnecessary complicated way of thinking, but I’m amused, laughing at their oblivious shamelessness. When I wrote this I didn’t know the discussion would turn that way, and what a coincidence. I couldn’t keep it much longer and dm mr. partner. we briefly talked about my concern but the topic was quickly changed into a general grievance about the lack of intelligent communication across local forum boards. I felt better after this, but I wonder if I should still strive to bring content towards it. It’s going to be a wasteful investment, but I do want to write some Ahsoka metas possibly, even if it’s just fact files on her inspiration and how tcw came to be. But I’ll have to evaluate if it’s that important I’ll be dropping off every other WIP for. (It’s not, but no sow no reap)

[scriptautistic]

@jim-hearteyes-kirk​ submitted:

I want to write a fic in the star trek fandom about an autistic kid with a special interest in the enterprise and it’s story and she goes with her class to a museum to see a giant model of the enterprise and meets kirk and he tells her that he believes in her to follow her dreams to join starfleet. I myself have ADHD and display some symptoms that are shared between ADHDers and autistic people [stimming, alexythemia, and because of medicine imbalance i had a full year when my sensory sensitivity went from 2/10 to 11/10 and i was prone to overloads]. i did and am doing lots of research on your blog and on the resource list you have and i have a few questions:

1. is it logical for her to pursue a role of captain/commander, or would a role like that with a lot of diplomacy/meeting new people/decision making/socializing with and being an example to the crew/team-work would be uncomfortable to an autistic person?

2. can engaging with a special interest in such a big way like this- meeting the famous hero and seeing a whole section at the museum dedicated to it- be overwhelming? can it lead to shutdown/meltdown?

3. I read about echolalia as a form of communication and i think i understand, but i don’t fully understand echolalia used as a stim. is it just like humming or tapping for the sound of it? [i do those so i understand them]. if so, where do the sentences come from? is it just repeating the last thing you say/want to say? repeating something someone said now? special interest related sentences?

1. It is not illogical for her to pursue a role of captain or commander. It is a role that she may find uncomfortable, and she may tire easily in social situations, but that does not mean that she would be unable to fulfill her duties as captain. It depends partly on the ways in which she is affected by autism.

The exact duties of a captain or commander vary depending on the type of vessel they work on, so she may choose to work on a vessel whose mission better suits her needs and abilities. One benefit of Starfleet is that there is a very clear chain of command which might help your character with the social aspect of working with her crew, but she may have a preference for a certain size starship. If she struggles with meeting new people she may choose a career path that means she primarily deals with science missions rather than humanitarian or diplomatic missions.

She would not necessarily be at a disadvantage on a diplomatic mission. Working for Starfleet means working with aliens with a wide range of cultural norms; neurotypical standards of behaviour are not the default, and she may even be at an advantage if dealing with species whose default body language or methods of communication are often misinterpreted by allistic humans. Even if she is in a situation where she works with a crew which is mostly made up of allistic humans, there are previous examples of commanding officers with atypical behaviour and communication.

Consider Data from Star Trek: the Next Generation - although he is an android rather than being autistic, Data shows certain similarities to some autistic people. Data’s difficulties with idioms and his tendency to use formal language were not an impediment to his role as Lt. Commander, and although he is initially affected by prejudice against androids when he takes command of the Sutherland [TNG S5 E01: Redemption II] he is ultimately respected by his crew.

Executive function can be difficult, including making choices, and some people would find the stresses of command hard or impossible to cope with. Indeed, even getting through the Starfleet Academy is taxing, and I am not aware of what sort of accommodations the academy would provide for disabled students.

You may find it useful to look at our post about potential accommodations in a sci-fi setting.

2. I imagine that it could potentially be overwhelming to have such an intense experience with her special interest. I do not think that it would lead to shutdown or meltdown by itself, but having a very strong emotional experience (even if it is a positive one) might be a little destabilising, especially if she has to work hard to control her reaction. Her natural reaction may be to flap, jump, and talk loudly, but she is told off by her teacher or worried about reprimanded. Maybe she wants to talk to Kirk but is actually too shy or loses her words because she is overwhelmed, leading to frustration. These might be things that would make her more likely to meltdown/shutdown later. Alternatively, she may need more time preparing to change activity - perhaps she is engrossed in listening to a recording of Uhura talking about her experiences aboard the Enterprise and has a meltdown when she is forced to leave before she can finish the recording. Her teacher may not realise why the character is reacting in this way, but it is a reaction to distress of some sort, even if on the surface it seems like the character should be happy.

3. Yes, echolalia for stimming can be like singing or humming for the sound, or it can be more for the feeling of the words in your mouth. The words can come from anywhere - it’s about a sound or a feeling that is good. We had someone write in:

“This isn’t for writing, but it’s a question that may come in handy. Is it normal to stim by saying some short phrase over and over again, like “they need a fence”? Cause I’ll start thinking that over and over again and without noticing, saying it over and over again for almost a block before realizing.”

It sounds like they are describing the sort of stimming that you are asking about. I tend to enjoy repeating words in a rhythmic way, but their origins don’t fit a pattern. For example, here are some phrases I have been repeating recently:

“Olaudah Equiano” (the name of a historical figure),

“102 St Saviours Road” (an address I visited),

“potayto potahto tomayto tomahto” (words from a song, but spoken quickly as a rhythmic thing rather than sang to the tune or time of the original). 

-Mod Snail buy me a coffee // check out the FAQ

[jokocraft]

[long meta] the hidden depths of voltron S1 E6

part 1: lance’s literal awakening and keith’s metaphorical one 

(if you already know where I’m going with this, you might find part 2: an entire subtextual plot in S1 E6? - in this same post - more interesting)

I’ve been rewatching season 1, and I got to episode 5 with the bonding moment and was like yeahh but then I got to the beginning of E6, with everyone waiting for lance to be released from the healing pod, and I was like wait. I never really thought twice about the scene before, but this time around I was like...hold the phone. 

what is keith’s reasoning for being impatient in this scene, anyway? like, if everyone else can wait a few ticks for lance to wake up, why can’t you? 

is this just your Personality, to be an impatient nuisance sometimes, haha queue comedic intro? well, while keith is often impatient, it’s usually during situations involving life or death decisions. and since lance isn’t about to die, and the timing of his release from the pod doesn’t put anyone else’s life at risk...

since i trust the vld writers enough at this point (at least with keith, i guess...?) to not make characters do shit for no good reason, i don’t think keith was being impatient for the hell of it, especially to do with someone he’s made a point of *Shrug* Not Really caring about -- that is, until shit went down in E5 and keith dropped that pretense like it was hot and didn’t hesitate to initiate the famed bonding moment.

my point here about this scene in E6, is that it’s directly linked to E5′s bonding moment, like 100%. maybe you’re like DUH OBVIOUSLY - and you’d be right, cause it’s obvious to me now and I was probably just being really slow on the uptake - but nevertheless, i don’t think we should hang up the the phone there...

i think that - well, with the “cradled you in my arms” line, we all kind of know - that keith took that bonding seriously to some extent. but to what extent? just seriously enough to be annoyed with lance’s response? personally, I think keith took it seriously enough that he truly believed a major shift had occurred between them - a shift, if my thoughts here are on the right track, he’d probably been hoping for (perhaps only subconsciously) since this scene: 

it’s from the tail end of S1E2, after they successfully form voltron for the first time. i referred to this frame as “first time keith realizes that lance is actually kind of cool”. the way I interpreted this was that now, keith can no longer see lance as >insert stereotypes here< and predictable, but rather as someone interesting and possibly full of surprises and definitely worth paying attention to after all. but in this episode, keith’s still too closed off emotionally to acknowledge at maybe his new perspective of lance is making him wish things between them were different - not so they could be BFFs like lance and hunk are, but something else....something he can’t yet put into words (space ranger partners). 

god they r all 3 uber-dorks okay

anyway

back to E6, I’m now imagining that keith has spent the last 24 hours secretly relishing the idea that he’s finally (for the first time in his life??) got himself a friend that is both a peer and someone that he feels instinctually closer to compared to other peers. (shiro is of course someone he feels instinctually closer to, but he is not quite a peer in age or maturity. the stuff can you do with a mentor/idol is definitely not the same stuff you can do with another shitting teenager like yourself).

buuuut we all know keith’s about to be disappointed when reality rears its ugly head and lance says some bullshit to allura again. “classic”. and so, from keith’s perspective, the reality is this: despite any shift between them that lance definitely felt (he saw it with his own eyes dammit), lance must have nevertheless interpreted it in a way did not put them the same page. fukin sux

poor keith. don’t we all hate when we hype something up in our minds and it turns out we were totally off the fucking mark all along? I imagine right now that he’s busy mentally burying his disappointment six feet deep. (note to remember for later: you can also see in the image above that shiro has the highest tolerance for lance’s shit.)

((((((( also eye-narrow worthy, but....perhaps...meaningless........hm: 

when coran presents the ticker when the topic of ticks vs seconds comes up, hunk and pidge come over to look instantly. allura is shown walking over to the group moments later at 22:00 into the episode. shiro is shown watching from where he stands a few feet away. and keith is just ... ... ... absent from this exchange for 4 seconds before he’s briefly shown finally walking into the frame at 22:04. for four whole seconds he was just...what? staring, I guess? at lance, waiting, probably feeling determined to Be There when lance woke up. but not so determined that he’d risk someone calling him out for it. (but shiro is likely an exception for him: shiro doesn’t have his back turned, and so keith must trust him not to raise an eyebrow if keith kinda wanted to, you now, Be There.) )))))))

anywaaaaaay

we know that burying disappointment not so simple as pushing it away and never feeling it again. because like keith, when present reality doesn’t match our perceived reality, we’re like, “wtf? where did i go wrong? how did i misinterpret this? was I delusional?” and sometimes we’re like, “no, fuck you reality, I was not delusional, not this time, I was not wrong.” And voila, here you see keith in all that frustration: he’s planted himself as much in lance’s line of sight as he can without just straight up taking the yellow mouse’s seat right in front of the bowl of goo. keith clearly intends to be acknowledged. or at the very least, to glean some clue from lance’s behavior as to why he’s being Capital-I Ignored. 

keith stays quiet during the conversation at the table until lance make a quip about the mice besting them all, and keith makes his salt known:

BITCH WHAT HTE FUCK? DID U NOT SEE HOW VALIANT I WAS PROTECTING YOUR ASS? I WAS THE SHIT! NOW STOP SPOONFEEDING THOSE FUCKING MICE I SWEAR TO

lance goes onto totally dismiss what keith did and this is....honestly not what keith expected

lance isn’t even making a dumb joke, he’s just being an asshole, plain and simple. keith now is like *softly* bitch what the fuck. “We had a bonding moment. I cradled you in my arms!” keith says, trying to look indignant, because alternative emotions are supposed be buried six feet deep.

but it’s no use, he’s stonewalled and subject-changed. and while we the audience know that the overly-defensive tone of lance’s stonewalling practically confirms that he remembers, we can only hope that lance realizes this too and is able to feel a pinch of salty relief. 

it’s my conclusion that the whole point of these beginning scenes is not just to have some character interaction and a bit of thrown-in development, but to provide legit exposition and rising action to the fully-fledged subtextual plot of ep6. Read part 2 below, an elaboration of what I mean by this. 

part 2: an entire subtextual plot in S1 E6? 

(apologies to anyone else may have posted similar conclusions and I just totally missed them)

so here i get into are more circumstantial stuff. maybe my reasoning is clouded by ship-goggles, or maybe it’s the opposite, when armed with the interpretation lens that season 3 is all but dreamworks-signed confirmation that Keith and Lance’s relationship is intended to be something more than BFF friendship, and always has been, and everything about their relationship from S1E1 to S3E7 is very deliberate in order to make their future endgame as believable, nuanced, and in depth as is possible for a younger audience show. 

assuming that this interpretation of S3 is not totally mistaken, then I contend that S1E6, in its entirety, is a far more momentous step in their relationship than all previous S1 episodes combined, including the bonding moment. 

basically, hunk wants to fulfill his promise to save his girlfriend shay, but allura decides a new incoming distress beacon needs to be looked into first. they arrive, and very unlike shay’s introduction (S1E5), characterized by dull colors, distrust, and caution....

E6′s introduction to rolo and nyma is characterized by brightness colors, camaraderie, and repose. some quality irony here. tbh, It’s a fantastic way of fLipPing The ScrIPT if you ask me Hunk.

also I suppose it should be mentioned that shay is meant to be noted for her tattered clothes, androgyny, and lack of traditional beauty (but we aren’t fooled, shay is perfect) while rolo and nyma are clearly typed to be MUTHAFUCKIN SEX BEASTS. nyma is very overtly feminine and rolo is equally masculine.

as expected, lance swoons and does his gig. even says “Name’s Lance” which uh, de ja vu anyone ahem episode uno?  as the episode progresses, it becomes clear that lance is going hella overboard, b/c even shiro (who, remember, has the highest tolerance for lance’s shit) is like for the love of fuck-

that night, there’s a bonfire, and rolo starts getting into his backstory. it’s worth noting that that besides space parents shiro and allura, keith is the only other paladin there listening. anyway rolo mentions sendak, immediately acknowledging him as a major threat. the point of that: considering just earlier in the episode, keith mentioned sendak’s threat to lance and lance promptly didn’t give a shit.....

even from profile view, keith’s expression in this frame ^ is distinctly similar to his expression from before (last frame from part 1), e.g. wide eyes revealing vulnerability, small frown, etc. i would take a gander that this is the moment that keith decides to...let things play out, rather than support hunk’s suspicions. 

(why? maybe because he sees lance being a dipshit and if hunk’s right, and these people are liars and cheats, then lance is going to get what he deserves. but, i admit, such a theory has no basis in canon.) 

meanwhile lance is being a dipshit and lets nyma inside the castle while the others aren’t looking. she plays him like a fiddle to get to the lions specifically, and at this point, the keen viewer is really starting to wonder why he’s being so dumb. 

and this is important: I do not believe the writers were making him dumb because that’s his Personality. Just like keith’s impatience with the healing pod, there’s gotta be a reason behind his behavior beyond “that’s just how he is, that’s just what’s happening right now, don’t look into it too hard”. 

I believe - going off of lance’s highly defensive refusal to acknowledge the bonding moment with keith earlier - he’s in a rather delicate emotional state right now, whether he consciously realizes it or not.

regardless of what keith might believe at this point, I think the reality is that lance sure as hell did remember. and although lance’s interpretation was probably different, it was different in the opposite way keith probably imagined (i.e. an even more dramatic and sentimental interpretation than keith’s). but the real divide between them at the beginning of E6 is their reactions to their own interpretations of the bonding moment: 

keith reaction: omg a real friend?? for me?? maybe jesus does love me

lance reaction: lies jesus lies i have never had a gay thot in my entire life nope

one of the big reasons I’m fairly confident I’m not just making lance’s reaction up totally with ship-goggles is because of this slap-in-the-face parallel: 

of ALL the things that could have been done, nyma is cradling lance in her arms, the very thing lance wants to deny even to himself ever happened with a certain someone else. 

if you’re followin my theory, i think it could go like this: 

because of the bonding moment, keith’s mind promoted his relationship with lance from we’re-both-in-voltron to F IS FOR FRIENDS, but i think from what can be seen of lance’s vastly exaggerated womanizing behaivor all E6, lance’s mind promoted his relationship with keith from grumpy-voltron-frenemy to ... 

...

...

... something he can’t yet bring himself to put into words (space ranger partners, italicized coughcough)

honestly, the frame of lance in nyma’s arms is a little depressing when put in context with the beginning of the episode. what is lance thinking, in this moment? or trying not to think about? is he telling himself on repeat: this is what I want, this is what I wanted, this is how it’s supposed to go, this is who it’s supposed to be -- he’s 100% blushing when she asks him to take her on a ride around moon, holding him like this. 

this post is cancelled if keith’s explicitly mentioned cradling is somehow not intended to be totally parallel to this scene right here with lance blushing. 

(sorry little baby cuban, but it is not mindless bromance that is in your future.)

immediately after this, lance seems to check back into reality, and shows some resistance to nyma’s request. but then: 

TRIGGERED

chances are, nyma made an educated guess that lance - like any hopeless romantic douche (psa i still love lance with my whole soul) - would react stupidly and competitively when threatened to be bested by another suitor. but there is a smidgen of possibility that she’s smart as FUCK (which there’s plenty of evidence of) and she knew that there could be only ONE1 reason lance could be overcompensating so obsessively. and out of other TeenPaladins, keith’s the hottest. i wouldn’t put it past this chick to put 2 and 2 and 5 together to get 69 and be correct. 

bonus: she mentions how the minerals of the kinetic spring “reflect off the water, making a rainbow”. Also, I’m almost certain someone has pointed this out before, but I guess I’ll do it again - the bisexual flag colors are pink, lavender, and blue, and this background..!.............but that’s just whiteboard conspiracy silliness, surely.    surely. 

necessary? i think not

((((((( also on a related note, i’ve watched this clip below like eight times because I have a feeling that this sequence is some kind of subtle parallel or reference to something as well. on the surface, lance appears to be surprised and blush when nyma rests her head against his armpit side and starts laughing.

it just caught me off guard like, why would this bit be included? we already know that lance is infatuated with her, so what’s the point? why waste time and frames to keep making the same point? ... oR is there some other point that’s trying to be made and I am blind to see it? right now I can’t come up with anything, but if you have any ideas, definitely let me know. )))))))

meanwhile...

keith stap.

and so lance’s massive fuck up comes to a peak, and he’s so desperate for this thing with nyma to work (so desperate to prove to himself that nothing’s changed, he’s still the same, a beautiful girl is still what he wants, what he needs) that for one sad moment he’s actually willing to believe nyma’s a dominatrix before he’s willing to believe that she’d been playing him all along...

(how can I be mad at this boy?) 

the others start the pursuit to save lance, and i think that it’s clever how keith was given the spotlight in the blue lion’s recovery via navigating the asteroid belt. that pursuit scene was very flexible in its requirements for how it needed to go, technically keith’s role doing that was interchangeable, and so the whole sequence could have been designed in a way to cater to another lion’s strengths. but. 

“This kid can flat-out fly,” says rolo. the title of this episode is “Taking Flight”. why would the title of this episode, in which, tbh, keith hardly does anything for a majority of it, be dedicated to this relatively predictable space car chase?

A: because it enables keith to say that he got is lion back. I saved your ass AGAIN and this time you can’t deny it! 

and because of this experience, lance now has come to understand (to at least some extent) that there’s no point in wishing that he’d had his Magical Moment of Connection™ with some cool and pretty girl like he’d always imagined.

maybe, very very deep down, he’s begun to realize that the moment was only magical in the first place because it was with keith. 

keith, who keeps coming through for him when it matters most. 

the episode comes full circle, and - going along with my theory so far - the real conflict has been resolved. One might argue all that this “subtext” was just a subplot to the main plot of learning their lesson with the bounty hunters and always listening to hunk because he’s right and shay is 1000% more pure than rolo and nyma combined, tattered clothes be damned. 

Or like me, one could argue that all that non-subtextual stuff (not counting the interspersed, juxtaposed scenes of Overarching Plot, Starring Your Hosts Haggar and Zarkon) was just an external plot chalk full of thematic parallels tailor-made to accommodate the true purpose of the episode: for lance and keith to come to terms with each other in the aftermath of the subtle but major shift that’s occurred between them. 

lance took a big step in this one episode by going from total denial to verbal acceptance (for everyone to hear) of a bonding moment, in fact, existing.

and keith did good by accepting lance as he is and choosing not to continue resenting him for how he first reacted. its safe to say that keith progressed in character even more than lance, which I think is why he wins the focus of the episode title, because what he learned was that if he wants a deeper friendship with lance, fate’s not going to hand it to him in a healing pod. he has to do his part developing it. he has to work for it. 

knowing keith, that’s a pretty tall order. but at least this time, keith got to Be There for lance after all.

Here is a follow up post: link 

[pandabearlikes]

Priceless

Characters: You x Baekhyun Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Fluff Music: `*•.♩ ♪ ♫ ♬♥ .¸.•*

My friend spends her fortunes collecting limited edition items, shelving her precious children into containers and containers that span the breadth of her entire room. I sit there, mesmerized by each and every object, her dedication…counting in my head how long it must have taken, counting with my fingers how much money she must have spent...to realize I don’t quite have that many fingers.

Money. Every one loves money, those who say they don’t probably never realized that in this society, everything costs something. A homeless woman shakes a plastic cup in my direction as I race to get onto the morning bus for work.

-Deet- The machine beeps, invisibly withdrawing little bits of my blood and sweat. But I refuse to slave away like this for a manmade system...slave away for materials that will only dust over time. My friend says I’m not adapting, with the implication that one day even the slightest naivety in me will be tainted by the hunger for money, just as it has done with her.

A race. My friends tell me life is a race, a competition, a battle of who can pocket as much in the shortest amount of time with the shortest amount of effort.

“I want to train for a marathon,” I announce to a room of chuckles as they stare me from head to toe.

“Well, you still need money, lots of it even to sign up for the marathon,” they jeer.

I guess, that’s true. Everything costs something. Rolling my sore shoulders, I squeeze through the crowded bus to the exit located at the center of the bus. The little claustrophobic child in me thinks this way, I can escape reality when need be. With all my might, I cling onto the metal pole - an action of contradiction in itself. Escape reality, you say? Then why are you grabbing for dear life?

“Here, sit here,” a silvery voice offers as its owner stands up and invites me to sit down on the seat he once occupied.

I shake my head and turn away, closing myself off from the world that seemed so daunting and merciless. According to the philosophy, everything cost something so his kindness must cost something. And as a broke post college grad, emptied of anything remarkable enough to pay the riches, I settle to declining without a word.

The young man glances up at me, his lower lip protruding a bit, wondering why this strange girl seemed as though he had asked for her bank account number. But he shrugs, guides an elderly woman into the seat, and to my dismay takes the spot next to me. Unlike me, he nonchalantly crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the door. Out of reflex, I latch onto his collar and tug. The miscalculated force causes him to crash right into me. Wincing, I blink and peer up, right into his gorgeous puppy eyes. They’re soft but alluring. I’m not sure if I’m breathing anymore.

“It’s...It’s dan-dangerous to lean against the door,” I stutter in between allotted breathes.

Passengers push and pull, locking the two of us into an unfortunate cul-de-sac. The young man lifts an arm up, what he thinks is offering me a protective barrier at a comfortable distance. Instead, I misinterpret it as a flirtatious reenactment of the infamous kabedon move. He throws me a handsome smile and I immediately turn my back to face him. My heart fumbles between thundering out of fear and celebrating in joy to be in the presence of God’s most handsome child. Due to my lost trance, my grip on the metal bar had unknowingly loosened. I heave and fumble to latch on when the bus takes a sharp turn. Instantaneously, the nimble young man catches me by the waist.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he reassures, taking my hand and maneuvering it back onto the metal pole. His touch is gentle but firm. I get lost in admiration at the smoothness of his beautiful hands that seem to mock my heavily battered and chapped ones. Sensing my discomfort, he eases his hold and moves his hand to the space directly above mine. Without my knowledge, a frown graces my lips.

“What stop are you getting off on?” the gentleman asks.

To my better judgement, I answer with honesty. Immediately, I internally reprimand my carelessness. So all it took was a handsome testosterone-filled human to make me drop my guard.

“Oh, same,” he replies.

“Re-really?” I stutter.

“I’ll protect you until then,” he half-jokes.

“Wh-what?”

“I won’t let you fall,” he slates.

No. Of course, I will not fall. I haven’t fallen ever. And I will not let myself fall…because the price of falling is far too much.

Yet, my heart responds with a gracious smile.

“My name is Baekhyun,” he stops me in my tracks when I dash as soon as we reach my bus stop. Rummaging through his coat pockets, he takes out a business card, blows off invisible dust, and hands it to me.

“How much does it cost?” is the first thing that sips from my lips.

Chuckling, he replies, “Free.”

“Free?” I respond, a bit shock, though my brain has already signaled for my hands to accept it.

“Except…” Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck and nervously jokes, “Maybe your name and number.”

My body jerks and eyes widen; I’m seconds from shoving the business card back into his precious beautiful hands.

“Name,” he corrects, “Just a name will do,” he backtracks after sensing my discomfort.

Nodding, I pay him with my name for his hospitality on the bus…a trade that made me feel guilty because it seemed like a lacking payment. But the gentleman accepts, complimenting on how beautiful and unique my name is…and that he’d remember it the next time we meet. As we separate, from the corner of my eyes, I catch him racing to get onto the adjacent bus…

“Byun Baekhyun. Financial Advisor,” the business card read. I cackle a bit at my own naivety. Financial advisor, just the person I needed but didn’t want. Just the wit I needed to get pass this roadblock in my life, but just the reason I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be calculated and sly and cunning, like a fox.

Perhaps, I’m not adapting well.

I catch my fingers bending and unbending, counting away.

Or perhaps, I’m already becoming more calculated than I think I am…

``

“Hey!” Baekhyun greets, cheerfully gracing my name with much more worth than I thought I’d ever mean to anyone, much less a kind stranger.

“Hi, Baekhyun-ssi,” I shyly bow. Already, my cheeks flush, betraying my interest, which growing up, my mother taught, would surely cost me.

Grinning at my reply, the young man automatically positions himself as my personal bodyguard. Today, I hesitate before spinning around. It’s a quiet but calm bus ride, just as I’ve always wished. I could sense a few times that Baekhyun wanted to initiate conversation but feared scaring me. Internally, I cursed my anti-social personality.

“Thank you,” I bow in gratitude and voluntarily hand him a folded up piece of paper for his kind services.

Slightly amused and incredibly curious, he accepts my payment. I flee away before I could see his reaction. But the buzzing of my phone right after answers my curiosity. A silly emoticon greets me as soon as I open the device.

``

“Mornin’ :)” Baekhyun texts me the next day.

“Good morning,” I reply with professionalism.

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” he alerts.

“Okay,” I type back, rocking back and forth on my feet at the bus stop. Three minutes later, the bus arrives and to my dismay, my male companion hasn’t shown up yet. “The bus is here,” I message.

“Wait for me :(,” he replies.

“What do I get for waiting?” I automatically type. Instantly, I regret it, shoving my phone back into my pocket, because I realize I’ve really become more calculated than I had hoped. Slouching, I drag myself onto the bus. I’m midway through pushing through the crowd when I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh.

I fail to suppress a giggle when I open the message to a selfie of Byun Baekhyun’s handsome face. I spend too many moments longer admiring the photo that I forgot this is supposed to be the payment for my waiting. With a gasp, I dash to exit the bus but the floor beneath me had began to move. From the window, I catch a sprinting Baekhyun growing smaller and smaller until he is forced to give up in a fit of pants, huffing and puffing for air.

“:(,” he texts.

“Sorry,” I type back.

“Send me a picture of you,” he surprises me by requesting. Though hesitant, I figure it is to make things even. Since I failed to wait for him, despite his payment, I had to pay him back. Fixing my hair out of my face as best as possible, I snap a quick selfie and send it to him.

``

The next day, I arrive to a suave and yawning Byun Baekhyun at the bus station. At the sight of my arrival, he immediately straightens up, his entire stature beaming at my presence. Automatically, I bashfully turn away and out of habit, loop a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Mornin',” he chirps, rocking back and forth on his heels as if he’s just been gifted boxes of chocolate.

“Hey,” I reply back and make note, “You’re early today…”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to miss you— or I mean the bus again,” Baekhyun nervously chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A tinge of pink dusts his cheeks.

“I see,” I throw him a soft smile, oblivious to his stutter because I’m lost in a world of nerves, myself.

Naturally, we make our way to the doors near the center of the bus. He positions himself to stand guard over my smaller physique. Today, I surprise both of us by not turning away, though, I can’t seem to be brave enough for direct eye contact so I settle on fidgeting with the tassels of my coat and staring at his briefcase. Must be full of money or documents that easily exchanges for cash six times its thickness… I shake my head and frown.

“Hm?” Baekhyun dips his head to observe my expression. Instantly, my body jolts, my cheeks burn up at the close proximity. “Ah, the roads are a bit bumpier today, right?” he straightens himself and interprets. “The government needs to stop wasting money and drilling dayum holes everywhere,” he mumbles under his breath, which causes a giggle to escape from my lips. In turn, a grin spreads across Baekhyun’s face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” the gentleman requests at the point of separation.

“Mhmm,” I gift him a grin and nod. “What…what do I owe you today?”

“Hm?” he raises his brow, a little amused by the oddity of my calculations. Flattening his lips, he rolls his wrist and glances at his watch. “We both got here ten minutes earlier than normal. Care for some morning coffee to wake our brains up?” he suggests.

“Okay,” I nod in agreement. I tag along with him to the nearby coffee shop.

As soon as he made his order, I prance forth and almost shove the money in the cashier’s face. She blinks while Baekhyun attempts to push my hand away to pay with his credit card.

“I still owe you for today,” I remark.

Both his brows lifts and it takes him a few seconds to make sense of the situation. “You don’t owe me anything,” he answers, swiping his card through the machine. With his other hand, he personally retracts my outstretch palms and stuffs them and the contents back into my pocket. I blink and he throws me one of his cute puppy smiles.

“How much do I owe you for the coffee?” I question when he hands me one of the steaming espressos.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” he, instead, warns.

``

“Hi,” I beam. My little legs giddily kick back and forth at the sight of Byun Baekhyun.

“Morning,” he greets with a wink that causes my feet to almost lose balance.

“You’re such a good boyfriend,” an elderly lady compliments after observing Baekhyun holding his arm out to block a drunk man from collapsing over me.

The corner of his lip twitches. He turns away but from the bus door’s reflection, I catch his timid grin. I don’t know why I also don’t deny the misinformation.

~~

A season passes by just like that. Then another. With students out from school, morning hours on the bus become less crowded. Taking my hand, Baekhyun guides me through the aisle and we settle down on a pair of seats near the center.

“You’re extra cute today,” he teases.

I stifle back a giggle and turn away.

It doesn’t occur to me that our hands remained interlocked through the bus ride, until it was time to leave and he easily guided me to the exit.

``

“Mornin’, Beautiful,” Baekhyun grins, toothily.

“Good Morning…um, Hand…” I rub my neck, “…Some…”

The self-proclaimed body guard almost chokes on his coffee. I try to make a run for it because that must have been the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever….but the bus arrives. Baekhyun grabs hold of my wrist, slips his fingers through mine, and tugs me onto the bus.

``

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun questions, figuring out that I was troubled as soon as I showed up at the bus station with inadvertent sigh.

“Hm…nothing…” I try to dismiss as we get onto our ride.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he casually counters.

Today, the bus is abnormally crowded due to there being a fair at the downtown area. Baekhyun and I automatically head to our spot near the doors. Holding onto my backpack straps, I continue to sulk. Only the scent of Baekhyun’s cologne instills hope back into me.

“Hm, what’s up?” my male companion questions, tapping me lightly on the tip of my nose.

“It’s not a big deal,” I ponder, chewing on my inner cheeks.

“Well, it’s bothering my Little Sunshine so it’s a big deal,” he concludes. My chest bubbles and tummy flip flops to the nickname.

“Just…just student loans…I’ve been paying for a year and the numbers seem to never move,” I admit.

“Ahh, I see,” my crush nods in acknowledgement. Unknown to either of us, his hand had naturally found mine with a squeeze. “I’m the same,” he informs.

“What?” my eyes widen, baffled by his statement. “How? You’re a financial advisor. Aren’t you really good with these things?”

Baekhyun lets out a chuckle. “Well, not really. I just try my best to come up with plausible financial agendas for clients in different situations. I don’t see myself in any tight situation to need to worry about my student loans just yet.”

I blink.

“Do you have a plan?” he squeezes my hand again and questions.

I nod, “Yeah, I’ve been paying for it monthly.”

“Then what are you stressing about?”

“Just that, it seems most of my friends aren’t in debt anymore and I’m just —”

“Don’t think about it that way though. Some people have parents that pay for them. Some had scholarships, some were lucky enough to nail high paying jobs off the bat. As long as you have a plan that’s yours, you are fine,” he reassures, “Go at your own pace.”

The frown on my lips flip. “I guess, you’re right.”

“Honestly,” he chuckles, “I’m not even sure how much I still owe. I’m on auto payment.”

My eyes bulge, “For real? I thought people in your field would calculate their money down to the last penny.”

The remark causes the finance grad to fall to another fit of chuckles. “Money isn’t that important to me,” he notes. I stare at him like he grew a horn at the center of his forehead.

That day, I watched as he rushed to catch the adjacent bus after he had thought I entered my work building.

``

“Mornin’, Babe,” he sneaks in the label that causes both of us to flatten our lips in attempts at suppressing our foolish grins. Instead, I playfully smack him on his abdomen. “aHH, my nutella abs,” he jokes, rubbing his belly.

Covering my smile, I skip ahead and head onto the bus. With a chuckle, my handsome beau tags along, slipping into the seat next to mine…also, slyly slipping his hand through mine. I surprise both of us by turning around with my eyes narrowed into slits. Baekhyun blinks.

“What? We’ve been holding hands everyda—”

“Why do you always chase after the adjacent bus right after dropping me off?” I interrogate.

“Oh,” he nervously rubs his neck and laughs.

“I Google Mapped your work place and you’re supposed to get off one stop before mine,” I continue with raised brow.

“Oh…hah…about that…” Baekhyun awkwardly shuffles his feet. “…because I just want to accompany you longer…” Cheesepuff. You cheesepuff!!!

I eye him half suspicious and half in awe.

“So you take the bus back, everyday?”

“Yeah, just one stop. I could totally walk but I’m lazy,” he shrugs. More like it’s take-the-bus-and-make-it-on-the-dot or walk-and-be-late-to-work…but he’d never admit it.

“That’s wasting money,” I lecture.

“Well, it’s worth it for me,” Baekhyun responds, bringing our intertwined hands up to his lips. He plants a sweet kiss on the back of my hand, sending butterflies fluttering in frenzy within my heart. Out of shyness, I turn away to hide my cherry red cheeks.

Though I’d rather deny, all my life I had been calculating. Calculating how many days I had left to live from the day the doctor held me in his arms and shook his head, calculating how much I owed my mother because she kept a journal of every penny she spent on me, calculating what percent tile I must achieve on the next exam to receive an A on my report card, calculating how much I owed a friend for their kindness, because it always had to be more from my side or else it’s not fair...or else I’d drown in heedful guilt...calculating, calculating…forever calculating.

...when there’s nothing to count. Life didn’t work in numerals.

“Sometimes, the best things in life are priceless,” Baekhyun explains.

I spin my head around to respond. Our lips meet. A half gasps rid from my throat but I hold my breath and stay still as a statue. Grinning, Baekhyun closes his eyes and eases us into a deeper and more affectionate kiss. Like a broken record, the brain races to calculate, but my heart wins the marathon. Slowly, I begin to kiss him back.

“Like you,” he finishes, pressing his forehead against mine, “One of a kind and priceless.”

A/N: Dropping another one-shot ^-^ If you guys haven’t, go read Busy Nights ft. Sehun, the scenario I posted yesterday.  

Hope you guys liked this scenario!  Do you guys want more?  Be sure to follow, like, comment, spam my inbox :)

Story Master Archive

[myheartmightexplode]

Love on the webways

Summary

"As a writer, Grant supposes he could have considerably worse habits than trolling his own message boards." A totally ridiculous AU vaguely inspired by You've Got Mail.

Kris would give him hell, but she always made him stay off the Barbelith boards unsupervised, too. He can’t help himself. It’s part genuine pleasure in seeing what readers make of his work, part morbid curiosity.

Right now, he’s spoiling for a fight, which is never a good way to go into this. The times he’s found it the most enjoyable were when he didn’t give a fuck, when he could let the vile shit people said slide right off his back. Right now, he cares entirely too much about everything.

It’s too easy to find the thread he’d been following last week. Too easy to notice all the new replies. And if he’d been really serious about swearing off this board, he’d have made sure he was logged out. And he’s not.

The thread’s instigator is the kind of bloke that Grant occasionally comes across at signings or conventions; highly opinionated, sure of himself, and a complete and utter arse. Grant always wonders where these people find the time to pay so much attention to something they hate. But at the moment, he’s being no better. The guy is a frequent poster. Most of the other posters clearly want to kiss his arse. Grant starts grinding his teeth after about the third inane reply.

Grant doesn’t give a shit about people disliking his work; everyone’s entitled to their own opinion. But there’s something uniquely irritating about the way this uppity fucker is deliberately misinterpreting, and denouncing, his last book. IMHO, the post starts. Grant snorts. This guy is anything but humble about his opinions. He’s already composing his belligerent reply in his head as he scrolls down the page, then lets go of his mouse.

The most recent post in the thread is from a user who goes by DannyTheStreet–clearly a fan of Doom Patrol, at least. There’s a little star beside the username, indicating that this person is one of the forum’s moderators. He’s interested that Danny chose to respond at length with his own argument rather than simply wield modly power. Danny is fucking sharp, too; Grant is selfishly pleased that he (Grant assumes) seems to really grasp what Grant had been doing with the story that this so-called “_DrManhattan” is being horrible about.

Danny seems to have softened his ire, so he goes downstairs to put the kettle on and hopes that by the time he gets back up, there will be a response.

*

Most of them must be Americans, he realizes when he wakes to a new flurry of replies. Including Danny, his defender even though he doesn’t know it. Danny’s responses to the other posters continue to be both well-reasoned and hilariously scathing. Grant finds himself laughing aloud more than once. Now, all thoughts of leaving for good are gone. He wants to see more of Danny’s conversations.

He types the username into the search bar, previous annoyance at the jackass commenter nearly forgotten. Danny, it appears, is not a frequent poster. But the posts he does make are more of the same: smart, funny, and oftentimes a bit snarky. Grant goes back to the original thread and starts a post. He almost wants to play devil’s advocate, just to see how Danny would react. But he doesn’t.

 DannyTheStreet has the right idea. Morrison has made it clear in dozens of interviews that he believes the exact opposite, and it definitely shows up in all the books Danny mentioned. Can’t think of anything else to add.

He sits back and laughs at himself, a bit ruefully. As a writer, he supposes he could have considerably worse habits than trolling his own message boards. And he can’t deny the pleasure he takes in discovering fans who truly seem to understand his work.

A few minutes later, there’s a response. Thank you, TheOldFox! It drives me crazy when people are deliberately obtuse for no fucking reason.

Grant chuckles and opens a private message. Nice of you to assume it was deliberate.

He gets a reply about twenty minutes later. I figure that when you pick that many fights, you’ve gotta be a deliberate asshole, you know? I’d love to just ban him, but I don’t want to be That Mod. Thanks for the backup, though.

Any time, Grant replies. He was starting to get on my last nerve. You were a ray of light in the darkness.

That sounds a bit daft, and Grant regrets it about five seconds after sending, but Danny replies promptly with a cheerfully punctuated

 Any time!!! :)

Grant laughs and clicks away from that window. He has tea, and he’s in an infinitely better mood than he had been. Now to start those revisions. He keeps checking back, though. At least once or twice an hour. Just to see.

**

Gerard hums under his breath as he shuts his laptop. He’s been online for…well. Longer than he should have been. He scrubs a hand through his hair and looks at the clock. Fuck, he’d meant to be in bed an a hour ago. But he’d gotten into a discussion with TheOldFox about Britpop and he can never fucking stop when someone gets him started about fucking Morrissey or Blur.

When he’d offered to mod for The City of Whispers, he’d been sure it couldn’t be any worse than wrangling a pit full of hormonal teenagers. He’d been both right and so, so wrong. But he’d never taken into account that maybe he’d make some friends. And maybe it’s stupid, but… he likes the anonymity. He’s a normal person on here; one who was never in a world-famous band that decided to call it quits after their most popular album.

Well. That’s not exactly true. He is those things all the time, but the people he’s talking to don’t know that. And it’s nice sometimes. He just gets to talk about comics. And religion, and politics, and art, and sometimes, well, Britpop. But TheOldFox started that.

Gerard grins as he gets up and herds himself towards the bathroom. He’s been trading messages back and forth with TheOldFox for a while now. The guy seems to be on Gerard’s wavelength in a way that a lot of other people aren’t. He’d checked him out out of curiosity when Fox had first messaged him, and found that he’s a longtime but sporadic poster. Gerard hopes he sticks around.

He finishes brushing his teeth, double-checks his stuff for tomorrow morning’s meeting with Scott, and gets in bed. He can’t stop thinking about Fox, though. He hasn’t had that much fun talking to someone in a long time. Not someone he didn’t already know. At least the asshole in that thread seems to have moved on to greener pastures.

The next morning, Gerard inhales a cup of coffee, pours himself a second cup to savor, and checks his email. There’s a new private message notification from the board. Gerard grins and clicks the link.

Thought you might like this if you haven’t seen it, it says, along with a link to a recent Morrison interview with some foreign blog.

Gerard saves the link and clicks ‘reply’. Awesome, thanks! I never would have found this, can’t wait to read it. Gonna save it as a reward for making it through this morning’s meeting with my boss.

Hope the boss doesn’t give you too hard a time, comes the reply. Any way to butter them up? ;)

Not being perpetually late with things would be a start,Gerard types back.

Funny how bosses seem to frown on that, Fox returns.

Seriously. And if I’m late, that messes with other people’s work and it’s all a mess. I’m getting better, but deadlines are killer, Gerard replies.

Good luck, Fox messages back.

Gerard glances at the clock, sighs, and downs the rest of his coffee. He packs everything in his bag and drives to Milwaukie. He has to parallel park on the street behind Dark Horse, which is never a good time, but he manages. He’s totally going to reward himself with a trip to TFAW for it, though.

Scott and Sierra are nice about his scripts being late, which makes him feel worse about it. “Make it up to me by coming to dinner Thursday,” Scott tells him. Scott and his wife are part of a network of people in Portland who have decided that Gerard needs looking after. It’s baffling, but it’s nice. And Elisabeth is a fucking amazing cook, so Gerard would be particularly stupid to say no.

“Okay,” he says. He should probably alternate playing Warhammer Quest and arguing with people on message boards with socializing, anyway.

Scott rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “Aren’t you glad you let us talk you into moving up here?” Scott asks.

“I like it here. It’s not too hot, and no one cares who I am. Was.” It’s not totally true, but things haven’t been too bad.

“The benefit of living in a city filled with hipsters,” Sierra laughs.

Gerard smiles. “That and the coffee. Pizza’s shit, though.”

“Cry me a river. What else do you have going at the moment, Gerard?” Scott asks, refilling his water glass and sitting back in his chair.

“The usual. Comics,” Gerard shrugs.

Scott lifts the script Gerard handed in and points out some words in the margin, something Gerard jotted down absentmindedly at one point. “Sure you’re not writing lyrics again?” he asks with a smile.

“Maybe a few,” Gerard replies. “Got some melodies stuck in my head. Or maybe they’re poetry. Dunno.”

“A Renaissance man,” Sierra says dryly.

Gerard shrugs. “I guess I can do both. Got nothing but time.”

“If you have time, maybe finish those scripts on time more often,” Scott needles with a fond smile.

Gerard fakes a sigh. “I’ll do better, I promise. I just get distracted real easy.”

“We know,” Sierra smiles. “Which is why we keep inviting you in here.”

“Well, it works. I get a guilt trip and new comics,” Gerard says with a grin.

“Everybody wins,” Scott agrees.

“Sadist,” Gerard says. “All right, I’ll get out of your hair now, guys.”

“See you at dinner, Gerard,” Scott says. “I’ll call you an hour before to remind you.”

When Gerard gets home, he makes himself another cup of coffee and settles at his computer, opening the interview Fox had linked him to. He’s smiling almost instantly. Fuck, Morrison is funny. This is a good one.

Gerard opens the message board and clicks the link to the private messages. That article was amazing. Haven’t laughed that hard in a while. Meeting went well. I even got an invite to dinner with the boss and his wife.

There’s no reply, but that makes sense; Gerard is pretty sure Fox is in Europe somewhere. He clicks over to another tab instead and tweets a quick “Good afternoon.” He answers a few questions from kids and gets to work.

**

If you’d told Grant that he would ever be a person who looked forward to checking his email- well. All possible universes, and all that. But he still has to laugh at himself a little. He has plenty of friends, there’s no denying that. But he tends to hermit himself away when he’s at his country house and it’s an extra little thrill after sitting at his computer all day, to have a nice conversation.

He thinks he’s finally discovered what it is that people love about the internet. Fifteen years late. It’s very sad how misguided you are, he types, grinning at his keyboard.

He doesn’t get angry at people on The City of Whispers anymore. He has a partner in crime. As a team, they shut down the stupid assholes and it’s fun. He suspects that this isn’t the kind of trouble people had warned him against, back when he’d first discovered the message boards dedicated to his work.

There’d been Barbelith, back in the day, and Warren had always had the WEF. Warren managed to meet some truly amazing people through that. Grant had never had quite the same success.

Now, he pulls up the PM thread that he and Danny have going and types, Nicely done. By the way, you were right about that band you linked me. Brilliant stuff.

Music is my thing, Danny replies. Well. When comics aren’t my thing. Or like. Obscure eighties cartoons.

Grant laughs aloud. And when art isn’t your thing? he sends back.

One of my supervisors called me a Renaissance man the other day, comes the quick reply. I feel like I need a costume for that, though.

Renaissance Man would be an interesting superhero, perhaps, Grant returns. Just mind the tights, they pinch.

Believe me, I know, is the reply. I was Peter Pan in a school play when I was a kid. I also dressed in drag in art school.

Grant almost starts typing the story of his own foray into drag, but pauses; that’s a story that he’s told in interviews before, and Danny will probably be familiar with it. Not the best strategy for maintaining his anonymity.

 Ah, art school. I never went, myself. You are quite the well-rounded chap, Danny.

 I try to be. Gotta admit, I fail when it comes to math any more advanced than basic algebra.

We all have our blind spots, Grant agrees. I’m quite terrible with technology, myself.

You’re on a computer, right? Danny asks. Not doing some mystic ritual or something?

Grant laughs. Would that I were. Perhaps I could more easily get other things done while chatting with you.

 So multitasking is also a blind spot?

 Like it isn’t for you?

Don’t make me give up all my weaknesses. That’s a total supervillain thing to do, Fox.

Grant laughs and rubs a hand over his head. If he only knew. Supervillainy is overrated. And I enjoy vices in my friends. Makes them more interesting.

I’ve got my share of vices, but I’m still pretty boring, writes Danny.

I doubt that. Grant realizes he’d be flirting if this was in person. That’s…he doesn’t know how to feel about that. People meet and flirt on the Internet all the time. He just never figured it would happen to him.

He laughs at the absurdity of the whole thing. At least Danny doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Anonymous flirting on the Internet is infinitely better than the alternative, he thinks.

*

A week later, he and Danny are in the middle of a heated back-and-forth about the X-Men when Grant’s mobile rings. He searches underneath a stack of notebooks until he finds it. “Hello?”

“Hi, Grant,” Janelle sounds apologetic, which is never a good sign. He takes a breath.

“Word from on high?” he asks, tone as light as possible.

“I’m afraid so. It’s not as bad as last time, at least?” Janelle offers, and Grant scrubs a hand over his face and sighs.

“I’m not going to put you in the middle of this,” Grant tells her.

“And for that, I thank you,” Janelle replies. She proceeds to outline the changes they want. Janelle is right, they’re not that bad, not really. But it’s the principle of the thing.

As they talk about the best way to edit the script, Grant erases the sentence about Magneto he’d started and writes, Apropos of a work call I am currently on: sometimes I don’t know why I bother.

He switches away from his browser window to make some notes. When he finally ends the call with Janelle, he’s a bit lost in his own head, but not so lost that he doesn’t click back, just to check in.

Tell your boss to shove it. Or at least imagine it in great detail, Danny has replied.

Grant smiles. I do. Frequently. They day I can actually tell him to shove it will be a banner day.

He turns his attention to the script, reading through it and deciding how best to effect the changes that DC wants and occasionally swearing under his breath. He doesn’t check his notifications for hours, but when he does, Danny has sent him a macro of Darth Vader force choking some unfortunate that says, “Good Luck.” Grant laughs and laughs, then saves it to his desktop so he can look at it whenever he’s feeling grumpy. And if he’s imagining Dan DiDio in the place of Vader’s victim– well. Probably best to keep that to himself. Grant has learned a bit about discretion over the years. Mostly when he did something dumb and Kristan rolled her eyes at him.

He smiles fondly. He misses her, misses her help, but it’s better this way. In the end. If she were here, she’d tell him to stop fucking working and get a bite to eat, so he pushes away from his desk and goes down to the kitchen.

**

Gerard pushes back from his computer and sighs, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes to try and stop his vision swimming. This is becoming a habit. Especially the past month or so. He’s going to end up wearing glasses at this rate.

The problem is, Fox gets up for the day while Gerard is still awake and they end up exchanging messages into what are the wee hours for Gerard. At least he sets his own schedule. Mostly. Except on days where he has meetings, or Skype calls with his collaborators.

He’s been finding it difficult to sleep much lately. His brain is very busy.

His therapist seems to find his friendship with Fox interesting and seems to think it’s generally good for him, though. So that’s something. Gerard happens to agree–though, he maybe hasn’t been completely honest with his therapist as to exactly why. But she’s not dumb, and she knows all about Kat and Eliza and Bert and Lindsey - and Frank - so he really has no reason to think she doesn’t have ideas about his reason.

He’s always been really good at self-sabotage and he’s really fucking determined that it’s not going to happen this time. Even if it is an anonymous cross-continental friendship. And it’s a fucking good friendship, anonymity and distance be damned. He doesn’t ask Fox super personal questions, because he wouldn’t feel right not being able to answer the same questions. So they talk mostly about other things - ideas, feelings, stuff going on in the world - and it’s nice, really. Despite the lack of personal details, it feels really fucking intimate. Like he’s never shared this much of himself with anyone before. Not really.

It’s even different than what he had with the guys in the band. They’re his brothers–always will be. And they’d known him at his worst, and at his best. With Fox, though, Gerard feels like he doesn’t have to live up to either of those things. He can just be Gerard. Or, well. Danny.

He likes being Danny pretty well. Danny can email Fox about politics in the morning and about Blade Runner in the evening and get a great discussion about either. Fox just gets him. He never has to explain himself to Fox like he does with others. Or well, he tries to explain himself and they misinterpret that too.

“The aftermath is secondary,” he mutters to himself.

He looks around. His apartment looks like the scene of a particularly colorful explosion. There are sketches, notes, random paintings that he’d done at odd hours of the morning when the inspiration struck. And every time he closes his eyes, he sees the story lit up in technicolor.

He texts “the aftermath is secondary” to Shaun before he forgets it and makes sure his laptop is plugged in before going upstairs to get ready for bed. He sets about ten alarms so he definitely gets up on time tomorrow and falls face-first into bed.

*

When he logs on to Skype at eleven AM Portland time, Shaun’s already online, and the first thing he does when the call connects is burst out laughing.

Gerard frowns at him. “What, dude?”

“Your hair. Also, you have ink on your face.”

Gerard wrinkles his nose. “As if you haven’t seen it all before.”

Shaun grins at him. “You’re a special kid, Geeway.”

“Shut up, Simon,” Gerard says. “Where were we with the outline?”

“We are…halfway through issue four,” Shaun replies. “What was that text from last night about?”

“Just something I thought of last night, I don’t know.”

“I know you, it’s either lyrics or dialogue. Hope you have a notebook handy,” Shaun grins.

“I think it’s…a slogan, maybe? For BLI? Maybe the Killjoys adopt it and subvert it too. I dunno,” Gerard says.

“I like it,” Shaun agrees. “Shit, yeah. That totally sounds like something BLI would try to spin.”

“We need like. A whole ad campaign, slogans like that that can go either way. I was reading this book that a friend of mine recommended to me the other day, about the Invisibles, you know? ‘Our sentence is up?’ That kind of stuff.”

“Totally,” Shaun enthuses. “Damn, this is going to be so fucking amazing.”

Gerard couldn’t hold in his grin if he tried. “Fuck yeah, it is. I’m going to start a file just for this, okay? Loop Jon and Becky in. Maybe we can make some cool viral shit.”

“Twitter accounts and a fucking badass website, maybe,” Shaun suggests.

“BLI merch,” Gerard suggests, laughing. “Fucking coffee mugs and shit. Gabriel and Fabio will want one, anyway. They love the Umbrella stuff.”

Shaun is grinning wide and Gerard grins back. He’s so fucking excited about this project. Even with the pain of deadlines and shit. Later, he writes to Fox. Meetings aren’t always horrible. I always forget how fucking fun it is, when a new project starts coming together. And I get to work with an old friend, which is going to be fucking awesome. Not for the first time, he wishes he could give Fox the specifics.

He can’t. He’s dropped enough specifics in the press that a bored Google will probably turn them up. It’s a shame. Maybe he can tell him something anyway. He’s not sure what, though. He’ll think on it. Maybe they can just discuss dystopias and corporate culture and shit.

There’s no response, which isn’t a surprise–it’s ass o’clock in the morning over in the UK. He comments on a couple public threads on the boards, instead. No truly interesting discussion going on, but Gerard hangs around for a bit anyway. Fox will wake up in a few hours. For now, Gerard closes out his browser window and pulls up his scripts.

Interviewers like to make hay out of him saying Black Parade was the last thing he had to say through My Chem. It makes the fans gnash their teeth, too. But this new stuff…it’s not that subtle of a middle finger, really. But he loves it. He loves it a lot. Working with Shaun makes him miss the band a little, but he calls them whenever that happens and they talk about everything under the sun. He gets stories about video games and producing, stories about D&D groups, stories about toddlers and demos played over the phone. He loves it. Loves them.

*

“Is it stupid that I wish I could tell him?” Gerard asks later, tapping his fingers against his phone case.

Frank laughs at him from three thousand miles away. “It’s not stupid. It’s just… you, Gee. All your alter egos turn into you eventually. Hey, you said he was an older dude, right? Maybe he’s never even heard of My Chem.”

Gerard has to laugh. Frank loves to deflate his ego. “Why do I even talk to you?” Gerard asks.

“You love me,” Frank replies. “And my diaper stories.”

“I do,” Gerard agrees, because there’s not really any point in denying it. “My love to Jamia and the girls too, okay? I should probably get back to work.”

Frank says goodbye and hangs up. Gerard smiles at the ceiling for a moment, with a little sigh. He’s lucky Frank loves him back, after everything. Learning how to be friends without the band to bring them all together had been hard for Gerard at first, but he eventually got the hang of it. And he’s really fucking glad of that.

Later that evening, Gerard’s clicking around the boards–there’s a user who’s been known to stir up trouble hanging around in a couple of the threads, and Gerard’s keeping an eye on it–when he sees that somebody’s posted a link to a new Morrison interview.

Typically, the next few comments are all jokes about not understanding a word he says. Gerard rolls his eyes and listens to the podcast carefully. It’s fucking fascinating. He fucking loves the way Morrison’s mind works. He’s always wanted to meet him, but has never quite been able to swing it. “Maybe next year,” he always says to himself after each Comic-Con where his schedule is too crazy or Morrison isn’t in attendance or…something.

Maybe this will finally be the year the stars align. He needs to bug Neil for an introduction or something.

“Rock star perks,” he mutters to himself. He ignores the voice that tells him he hasn’t been a rock star for two years. He’s still writing music, mixed in with everything else. It’s just..his, now. Maybe he’ll book some studio time when he and Shaun are done. Or something. He misses making music. Scott was right, those were totally lyrics.

He needed time. A lot of it, actually. His therapist spends a lot of time helping him to be okay with that. Mostly he is now. Sometimes he feels like he failed his guys, failed the kids, by not continuing, but they said what they needed to say.  

In the meantime, he pushes back from his desk and goes back over to his art table where he has a couple mock-ups in progress. He fiddles with one for a few minutes until he hears the ding of his phone indicating he has a new email. He sits back down at his desk and checks.

Can’t sleep, hello, Fox writes.

Hi! Gerard replies. I’m sorry you can’t sleep. I’m knocking around my house kind of aimlessly this evening.

 Not going out? Isn’t it Friday?

Gerard laughs and starts typing. I don’t drink anymore and my Magic group couldn’t meet this week.

I’m happy to keep you company, Fox replies, until or unless I fall asleep again, mind.

 I won’t begrudge you falling asleep, I guess. Any particular reason for the sleeplessness?

 Overwork, as counterintuitive as that seems. And too much tea.

I have trouble with insomnia. My therapist tells me I need to cut back on coffee, but since I quit drinking and I managed to quit smoking, I just can’t bring myself to.

I did a lot better when there was someone around to monitor my sleep schedule. I’m shit at it on my own, sadly, Fox writes back.

The confirmation that Fox doesn’t have anyone makes Gerard’s stomach flop over. This is really stupid. Gerard is still staring at the computer like it is going to tell him something else. He takes a deep breath and starts typing. I know how that goes. I have a cleaning lady, a therapist, and a boss who’s more like a big brother to me and I still suck at basic shit.

And friends, Fox replies. Gerard’s not sure if it’s meant to be a question.

 And friends. Great friends. I moved away from a lot of them a couple of years ago. It was the best decision for me, but I wish I could see them more.

I’ve lived mostly in the country since my divorce, Fox writes back. It’s quiet, and I like that, but I understand.

Gerard takes a breath. You have one up on me. If I lived in the country I would die and my home would be invaded by a pack of wild dogs that would eat my remains.

That would be appropriately dramatic, Fox writes back. I’ve just scared a cat with my laughter, by the way.

Gerard grins. Sorry, cat. I used to think the only way I could possibly go out would be dramatically. I like to think it’s a sign I’ve grown as a person that I think I could just as easily have a boring death.

 You’re a morbid little bastard, aren’t you, my friend?

I like to think it’s part of my charm. If nothing else, I’ve kind of built my career on it, in a way. A part of him hopes that Fox will ask him to be more specific.

The rest of him knows that he’s being stupid, and is relieved when Fox’s next message reads, I understand finding your niche in places that others don’t necessarily like to look. It’s certainly served me well, though it can be difficult at times.

I’ve had a lot of difficult, Gerard writes back. and once I crossed the bridge of ‘alive past thirty’ I sort of had to look around to see where the bar was set.

The next message takes a couple of minutes to arrive, but when it does, it makes Gerard’s breath catch. I’m very glad you did cross that bridge.

Gerard considers, and discards, a dozen different replies before he finally settles on, Me, too. After a moment, he sends another message. I actually love my life, but I can’t get through a day without knowing I’m disappointing people. It’s easier to be anonymous guy on the internet, but.

I understand completely, is the reply. Gerard believes him.

The conversation turns to other things, and they end up in a discussion about the mythological functions of Lord of the Rings. Fox has a lot to say about mythology in fiction. He says he never went to college, but he’s clearly well-read.

For the first time in a long time, Gerard wants to talk about Parade and everything he was trying to do with it. Maybe someday, he thinks. Someday, he’ll be able to tell Fox everything. Maybe Frank’s right, maybe Fox has never heard of MCR. But he thinks of all their conversations about music and thinks he’s just fooling himself.

He’s working on another message, struggling to say something like what he really wants to say when another note pops up. Finally winding down enough to sleep, I think. Good night, my friend.

Gerard breathes out, not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved. Sleep well, Fox, he sends back.

Be good to yourself, is Fox’s reply. Gerard smiles and takes a deep breath. Maybe he needs to zone out in front of Fellowship of the Ring.

**

It isn’t as though Grant hadn’t known that he was being a bit ridiculous about the whole thing. But when he finds himself contemplating buying a smartphone–something he’s avoided for years–just so he can more easily check his email while he’s in London next week, he has to laugh. It’s not like he can’t afford it, after all. Or figure out how it works. He’s not got one foot in the grave quite yet.

The more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea, which is even more ridiculous. His instincts say to go buy one now. He forces himself to think about it for a few days. Finally, a few days before he’s set to leave for London, he gives in.

He sends Danny a message that same night. Going out of town for a week or so. Sure to be tedious at times. Here is my email address if you’d like to keep writing. He includes his shiny new gmail address and hits send.

The next message he gets is from dannythestreet@gmail.com.

Grant grins. Perhaps this will be faster than going through the private message system on the board.

Possibly less distracting, Danny agrees. Where are you off to?

London for some meetings and to see some friends, Grant replies.

I fucking love London, Danny says. One of my favorite cities.

Grant grins broadly, pleased to discover something else they have in common. It happens frequently even without sharing specifics about themselves, which they’ve managed to do despite having been talking for a few months now.

He climbs into bed with his new mobile and starts a new reply. You never told me why Danny the Street, you know. Out of all Morrison’s characters, and well, a lot of other ones.

 I love everything about Danny. Honestly, Danny might be one of my favorite characters ever.

Grant knows it’s foolish, but he still feels a burst of pride in his chest. Not just the crossdressing thing, then? He holds his breath as he sends it, but Danny replies immediately.

 I told you my only crossdressing story already, Fox. There were some ladies’ jeans in my past, too, but these days it’s just jeans and plaid. Sorry if that’s a letdown ;)

Not in the least, Grant sends back. My own crossdressing days are behind me and I seem to confine myself to wearing sharp suits to special occasions these days. This is flirting, he’s almost sure. This is- there isn’t anything else this could be called.

Any special occasions in London? Danny asks after a nail-biting pause.

A party or two, Grant replies. One will be dull. The other may actually be entertaining.

 Let me guess–the first party is for work?

 I’d hate to speak ill of my employers. Actually, no. I enjoy my British team, it’s the American wing I find trying. No offense.

 None taken. I’m not even surprised. How about the other party?

Old friends, Grant replies. This party is the thing he’s most excited about during this visit. The chance of debauchery is high.

 Oh really? That good of friends? ;)

It will be an interesting night, Grant replies. No Magic: The Gathering, but I think you’d enjoy yourself as well.

 You’d be there. Pretty sure that would be guaranteed.

And oh, Grant feels that in the pit of his stomach. He’d do a lot to make it happen. Too bad he can never admit to Danny who he really is. Not that Danny has been particularly forthcoming with his own identity, but he could very likely be taking cues from Grant in that regard. Grant sighs.

He’s tempted to let Danny’s last email go unanswered– it wouldn’t be the first time that one of them had fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation. Wish you could be, he writes back after a long pause.

Danny doesn’t send a reply after that. Grant supposes one isn’t necessary.

He does fall asleep after a while, and he wakes up to a new email from Danny on a completely unrelated subject. Grant supposes that’s a pretty clear signal. He forces himself to get up, eat breakfast, and pack his luggage before answering. It’s the start of a long discussion, Grant can feel it. He’s suddenly even more glad he gave in to his flight of fancy and got himself a smartphone. He’ll be able to keep up on the train down to London.

A few hours later, he’s in his seat on the train, fiddling with his sketchbook in between answering emails. He’s just sent off a rather long one to Danny, answering a question he’d asked about dystopias, and somehow types in Kristan’s address instead. I joined the modern world.

I can see that from your “Sent from my iPhone” signature. comes her reply a good ten minutes later. Finally realize it’s necessary since I’m not there to carry a mobile for you?

He knows Kris and he knows she’s just taking the piss. He smiles. Something like that. I admit, it’s certainly making the train journey to London more interesting.

 You’re a menace, Grant. How are you doing?

I’m doing well. Working non-stop, as usual. He wants to tell her about Danny, but he’s not sure how.

A reply from Danny arrives in his inbox a moment later. Is it strange to be friends with one’s ex-wife? he writes to Danny before picking up the thread of their previous discussion.

I don’t think it’s strange. It’d probably be strange for me because I have a tendency to burn bridges, but I don’t think it’s strange in general. Who could possibly know you better? While Grant is still trying to process this, Danny sends him another message. Sometimes things end, but that doesn’t mean that the people who were part of them aren’t still important to you. Spoken like someone who’s spent a lot of time in therapy, right? Haha, another email adds, Everything okay, Fox?

Grant smiles softly at his phone. Yes, I think so. Just…contemplating the unexpected turns my life has taken.

He gets another email from Kris, then; a bit about her job and a play she and a friend had gone to see the week before. The kind of thing they would have talked about over morning tea, once. Grant is fiercely, selfishly glad that he still has her in his life, even though they’re both happier like this. Keep me posted on your life with 21st century technology, she closes.

Of course, he replies. I’d never deprive you of the opportunity to mock my failures with it. He sends the email, and sees that there’s a response from Danny in his inbox–more thoughts on dystopias, with a side-helping of post-apocalypse.

He’s so fucking smart. Grant smiles helplessly at his phone.

Grant manages to reply and then forces himself to put down the phone and pick up the book he brought for research. It’s amazing how quickly the train journey seems to go by.

Next station is mine, he tells Danny. Thank you for the conversation.

Any time, Danny responds. Talking to you is the best part of my day sometimes.

Mine, too. The train coasts to a stop, and Grant tucks his phone carefully away and gathers up his things. He’s reminded rather uncomfortably of something Kristan had said before their divorce, about how there were multiple ways to be in love. The giddy joy of of seeing an email from Danny in his inbox certainly reminds him strongly of what being in love feels like for him.

It’s ridiculous–has to be. He’s being ridiculous. He has no idea who Danny really is, where he lives, or what he does, or even his fucking name. He’s rather shit at this anonymity thing, it looks like. He shakes his head. It’s not worth thinking about, he decides. He’s certainly not going to stop and until Danny reveals himself, Grant will keep quiet. It’s all he can do.

The next few days are long, filled with interminable meetings. They’re necessary, and productive, but that doesn’t make Grant loathe them any less. He whines at Danny, who takes to sending him a series of photographs of random things around his neighborhood. His tennies, his coffee cup. A flower. Weird graffiti. Each one makes Grant smile. For all they’re strange and random, they’re weirdly compelling.

In return, he works out how to use the camera on his new phone and takes photographs around London. Danny replies with emails like, I like Selfridges better ;) or My favorite club in the city is down that street. He’s clearly spent a fairly good amount of time in London. Grant determined early on that he was on the west coast of the US, and then Danny kept talking about rain, so Grant decided he was probably in the Pacific Northwest somewhere. Grant wonders what brought him to London. He doesn’t ask.

He checks his email a lot, and tries to weather the teasing about his new enthusiasm for technology with grace. Danny helps him survive his work party with three hours’ worth of constant quips. It’s…above and beyond. There is no denying that. Grant adores him for it. When he’s finally back in his hotel room, he sends his thanks. You saved the evening. Thank you. If I can ever do similar for you, let me know.

That would most likely be in the middle of the night for you, Danny replies.

It doesn’t matter; I’d do it gladly.

You’re a good friend, Danny tells him.

As are you, Grant responds. If you ever need me, just tell me. I shall stand by with interesting conversation and whatever ridiculousness you desire.

*

Grant has spent much of his afternoon winding Danny up about the party he’ll be attending tonight, spinning tales of an orgy of debauchery the likes of which haven’t been seen since the Romans. His meeting this morning was irritating, and he’s dealing by trying to provoke Danny into some sort of equally provocative response.

What he gets makes Grant feel like an ass. My days of drunken debauchery are over, so you’ll have to party for me.

I’m sorry, Grant replies. I didn’t think.

Danny’s response is immediate. No apology necessary. I knew you were teasing. No amount of teasing can goad me into a relapse. It happened once and it was all me. All my own stupid choices.

There are a dozen things Grant wants to say in reply. I’m still sorry, he repeats.

You act like drunkenness is required for debauchery, Danny replies. Last I checked…

Grant grins at his phone. It’s true. Sober debauchery is highly encouraged at all times.

Well, maybe not all times, Danny returns. Although it certainly would have livened up those those meetings you’ve been stuck in.

I don’t think I’ll be trying to pull any of my colleagues any time soon, Grant replies with a laugh.

 Probably a good thing? I mean, having fallen for one of the people I worked closely with before, I can’t say I recommend that. Dunno about just hooking up, though. THAT, I have never attempted.

Either proposition would be a horrible idea, given some of the people I work with, and my own disposition, Grant replies.

He doesn’t get a return email for so long that he almost gives up on one. Then Danny writes back, What about tonight?

Tonight…tonight will be predominantly people I genuinely like and some I find rather attractive, but none I am particularly interested in beyond lively conversation. And it would be lively, especially if Kieron and Jamie were both there; no one had quite the same the talent for winding Warren up.

 The debauchery is a lie, Fox? I feel so betrayed.

Debauchery involving ME is unlikely. One never does know what sorts of debauchery will be witnessed, however.

At least there’s that, Danny agrees, and Grant tucks his phone away and goes downstairs.

Within an hour of his arrival at the party, he’s well on his way to drunk. He’s having an excellent time, truly. The company is infinitely better than the last party, the food is good, the alcohol is top notch. It’s Warren’s party, after all. He can’t help but wish he had someone here with him, though.

After the second drink, he’d moved his phone firmly into an interior coat pocket, difficult to reach. He’s lost track of the number of conversational gambits he’s made that have started with “I was talking to a friend of mine,” though.

He forces himself to pay attention to the party for now. Particularly when Warren and Jamie start taking the piss out of each other. Everyone is practically rolling on the floor at that point. He’d been right, Grant thinks. Danny would enjoy this. He wishes he could turn and share a smile with him, introduce him to the lads.

He can’t, so he might as well get drunk instead. It’d be a shame to let Warren have all the good whiskey, after all.

**

The problem with time zones is that, when Fox goes to bed, Gerard still has quite a bit of day still to go. Today that’s more of a problem than usual. He’s honestly not mad. Or upset. What he is, is - oh, such a problem. He’s jealous of everyone at Fox’s party, for one.

He wants to sip a Diet Coke while he listens to Fox talk to his friends. Wants to just…be in the same room with him. Their digital friendship has been fucking amazing. Unlike anything Gerard has ever really experienced. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. He just wishes it could be non-digital as well.

He wishes a lot of things.

It’s not late, and the Oemings probably won’t have put Ethan to bed yet, so he calls Michael. “Cup of coffee?”

“Sure!” Michael replies. “Meet at the usual place?”

The usual place is a little coffeehouse tucked away in a corner of a converted industrial building near the river.

“Hey, man,” Michael says when he walks in and sees Gerard sitting at a corner table. “Emerging from your lair?”

Gerard smiles. “I was feeling pretty restless, so I was like, hey, I can do something about this.”

Michael laughs, sliding into the seat on the other side of the table. “Naturally, your answer was coffee.”

“Wild and crazy, I know. Thanks for meeting me.”

“No problem. Anything specific making you restless, or is it generalized discontent? Or boredom?” Michael asks.

Gerard sighs and looks into his coffee cup. “Nah. Just… my head, you know?”

“Giving you grief?”

“In a weird way. It’s a long story,” Gerard replies.

Michael nods solemnly. “Sounds like I’ll need one of the big coffees, then.”

Gerard waits while he orders one, folding a napkin into squares. When Michael slides back into his seat, Gerard grimaces and says, “This is sort of a poor-me story. Fair warning.”

Michael chuckles. “Lay it on me.”

Gerard tells the whole fucking thing. His brother and the guys know, but this is the first non-family type person he’s told about this. “It’s stupid,” he concludes, head in his hands. “I don’t even know his fucking name. He could be a serial killer. I just…”

“If he’s a serial killer he’s playing a pretty long game,” Michael laughs. “If you’ve been talking as much as you say, you ought to be able to decide if you trust him and if you do, just…lay it out there.”  

Gerard nods. “The thing is, not having the baggage of who I actually am to be a factor has been really nice. I don’t want to scare him off now. What if he’s one of those assholes who hates my band for no real reason?”

“Ah, I see. You want to make sure he’s sufficiently wooed by your stunning personality and intellect.”

“I warned you this was a poor-me story,” Gerard says witheringly.

Michael is still laughing. “Way, take it from someone who met the rockstar and is having coffee with him on a Saturday night. You live up to the hype in lots of ways, but you’re the same kind of weirdo as the rest of us in this biz. He’s not going to judge you for your adventures in eyeliner.”

“Maybe not,” Gerard concedes. “But like. He hasn’t said anything about who he is either. I know he lives in the UK, but not London. That’s it. Maybe we’re just fated to be anonymous friends for all time.”

“Maybe he’s a spy,” Michael offers, thoughtfully. “Maybe he kills people for a living, and you’re the one connection he has left to his humanity.”

“Oh my god, I’m pen pals with Jason Bourne,” Gerard exclaims.

Michael snickers. “There, did I make you feel better?”

Gerard sighs dramatically and then grins. “Yeah. Thanks, dude.”

“Any time,” Michael says. “Are you good? Can we talk about comics now?”

Gerard throws a napkin at him. “Yes.”

Michael grins and launches into a story about a hilarious miscommunication between him and the colorist on the book he’s working on. After that, they talk about the good shit that came out on Wednesday. “You’re reading Joe the Barbarian, right?” Michael asks.

“As if I would miss it. Sean Murphy is hitting it out of the park, isn’t he?”

“He really fucking is. And the writing is great too. Though, can we talk about how even Morrison’s failures are more interesting than a lot of the stuff out there?” Michael says. Gerard has a moment of total defensiveness and he has to laugh at himself a little.

Michael grins, and Gerard squints at him accusingly. “You totally just did that to wind me up.”

“You’re just such a fanboy,” Michael smirks. “Spending all your time on Morrison message boards.”

“I’m a mod,” Gerard huffs.

“That doesn’t make you sound like less of a fanboy, dude,” Michael grins.

“Fuck off,” Gerard says, but there’s no heat in it. “You said it yourself, man, he’s got fucking fascinating ideas.”

“That he does. Anything else on your radar this week?”

“Been obsessed with this band called Sleigh Bells lately,” Gerard says. “Can’t stop listening to their album.”

“Cool. Send me a link later, you always find the good stuff.”

“This one might have been Frank, I can’t really remember,” Gerard admits.

Michael shrugs and says, “You surround yourself with people of excellent taste, I guess.”

Gerard laughs. “I assume you’re including yourself I that?”

“Duh,” Michael replies.

“Frank is extra good at finding new music I’ll like. I dunno how a kid with such a punk, do-it-yourself attitude about music, who has been through what we did with the band, manages to stay so fucking pure-hearted and enthusiastic about music,” Gerard says.

“You find good people,” Michael replies. He raises an eyebrow and Gerard knows what he’s trying to say.

They talk for a while longer, until Michael says he needs to get home for dinner. They say goodbye, and Gerard heads back to his apartment feeling a lot lighter than he’d felt when he’d left it. It’s good. And he managed to not check his phone the entire time he was out. He does now, though.

The bottle of whiskey had a hole in it, Fox writes. There was but one thing to do.

Gerard grins at his phone. Water, he types back. Lots of water. And painkillers, and maybe a banana.

I called room service for a banana. I’m fairly certain the young gentleman who brought it was laughing at me.

Poor Fox, all alone in your hotel room with your room service banana. Gerard is going to fall off his fucking couch laughing.

What a filthy mind, Fox replies. Perhaps my only consolation is that the other partygoers were just as done-in as I was.

That’s good. Being hammered alone is never fun. Are you drinking water? after a beat he adds, Also, are you actually surprised I have a dirty mind?

Absolutely not, Fox replies.And yes. No, reverse those. I must sleep, Danny.

Goodnight, Fox. Keep a glass of water by the bed, just in case. A few minutes later, Gerard gets a reply: a blurry photo of what is clearly a hotel room bedside table, and the glass of water sitting atop it.

Gerard smiles wide and settles onto his couch with his sketchbook. Strange that he’s taking care of someone from thousands of miles away. Or maybe not strange at all.

He doesn’t hear from Fox again before he finishes for the night and puts himself to bed, but that’s not too surprising, considering how late it was UK-time when Fox had fallen asleep.

The next morning, the first thing he does is check his phone. The message from Fox makes him laugh. My feelings upon waking can be best summed thusly: uuuuuggggh. But I believe it would be much, much worse had you not intervened. Thank you, friend.

Thank you for listening to me, Gerard writes back.

Fox sends him another picture message about ten minutes later: a white diner plate with a proper English fry-up, minus the meat. Hangover food. Proud of me? Fox asks.

Absolutely. And now I’m hungry, he replies. Maybe I’ll go out for brunch. Pretty sure I’m even out of pancake mix.

Tragedy, Fox writes back. Are we keeping one another company at restaurants now?

Gerard feels that same pang in the pit of his stomach, and he thinks about his talks with Frank, and Michael. They’d both seemed to think that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Fox figured out who he was. He doesn’t let himself think too much about it, just replies, Come to Portland sometime, and I’ll take you out for brunch like you’ve never had before.

 Portland. Home of Dark Horse Comics. I feel as if I should have known that. I have heard rumors that Portlanders like their brunch.

 It’s a religion. And a comics-friendly town. Good place to make a name for yourself if you can.

There. It’s not exactly admitting what he does, but Gerard is pretty sure Fox is smart enough to infer. Gerard feels weirdly giddy.

Someday, you’ll have to show me. What made you choose Portland when you moved?

I’ve always loved it. The atmosphere is great, the people I knew through Dark Horse are great, the coffee’s great… He stops typing, unsure of how much further to go. Maybe he’s revealed enough for today.

Coffee is important, Fox replies. I’m glad you’re living somewhere that can provide as much as you need, as often as you need.

Gerard laughs. That’s what it will say on my tombstone, Coffee Is Important.

He is hungry, so he starts getting ready to venture out to find breakfast. There’s a nice little cafe a few blocks away. They have wifi and free refills on drip coffee. Maybe he’ll take his laptop and do some work.

**

Grant figures he’s about as recovered as he can be from the Hangover from Hades when the bottom of his coffee cup stops looking like the most fascinating place in the universe. He’s incredibly thankful for the fact he’s finished with his damned DC meetings, and that he’s not taking the train home until tomorrow morning. He’s also thankful for Danny, and his intercontinental mother-henning.

He’s thankful for Danny full stop. And absurdly pleased that Danny told him a fact or two about his actual life. He’s involved in the comics industry somehow, clearly. Reason enough to withhold them, Grant supposes. Until now.

He contemplates his sketchbook thoughtfully. Why now, though? He supposes their conversations have become more deeply personal of late. Perhaps it’s inevitable. He certainly wants it to be.

Things are. Different if Danny is in the business, he thinks. Maybe he won’t be…maybe…. He sighs, frustrated, because he has no idea what Danny’s reaction would be to discovering who he is.

But…perhaps he can share a few details too. He doesn’t want Danny to think he doesn’t appreciate his disclosures.

 It was raining when I left home. It’s raining here, and it will likely be raining when I get back. I have the unique bad luck to travel most during the spring and summer, when Scotland is at its best.

He deliberates, but decides to leave it at that for now.

 It took me a long time to get used to the grey and the rain of Portland, but I kind of like it now. Honestly, I like the excuse to stay in my apartment.

Hermits, both of us, Grant replies. And if the lines he’s doodling in his sketchbook are shaping into a grey city skyline, rainclouds bursting– well. He smiles. It pleases him in a strange way that they both enjoy the rain.

 I can’t believe you never told me you were Scottish, by the way! I’m half-Scottish. I tell everyone I’m half-Scottish. I mean, fuck, it’s just cool.

Grant laughs aloud, and wavers before just making the obvious joke. Which half is which?

I’m rolling my eyes at you. Just so you know. The half that’s not Italian.

Ach, the fact that you like to talk so much becomes entirely clear.

You know what they say about people in glass houses, Fox, Danny replies.

My house is made of stone, thank you very much, Grant returns. Also I believe what they say is “…are the most shameless exhibitionists.”

That saying must be different in the UK, Danny responds a few minutes later.

Perhaps, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

A minute later, he gets a message with a picture attached. This is the front of my condo. Judge for yourself if I live in a glass house. Grant has to laugh. It’s basically one huge window overlooking a small park.

Are you an exhibitionist then, Danny? Grant writes with a chuckle.

I’m a bit of a performer, comes the reply, and oh, isn’t that interesting?

Grant blows up the picture and studies the bits of Danny’s condo that he can see. He can see the edge of a dining table on one end of the photo and one wall appears to be all bookcase. There’s a comfortable looking leather chair next to the bookcase, angled toward the view. Despite all the glass, it looks cozy. Cozy, but expensive. Grant would love to see the inside.

Biting his lip to keep himself grounded, to remind himself to move slowly, Grant decides that a change of subject may be in both their best interests at the moment. Speaking of performers, he begins, and goes on to tell Danny about a performance he’d seen at the Fringe Festival the previous year.

Danny returns with a story about seeing Bon Jovi in New Jersey one time. I’m sure they put in a decent show in other places, but there’s nothing like a Jersey crowd for a hometown band.

Everyone from New Jersey talks about it the same way, Grant replies. It reminds me of home.

They trade stories back and forth. Grant does his best to avoid anything that he’s talked about in interviews, but that leaves a surprising wealth of material. He talks ancient family history, ridiculous childhood stories, nearly anything that pops to mind. He shares the bad days with Danny, and Danny does the same.

*

One day, Danny is particularly quiet. Grant tries to draw him out with little success. Before he goes to bed, he sends one last message. I’m getting the sense that, for whatever reason, today is a hard one for you. Be good to yourself, friend.

When he wakes up the next morning, there’s a reply waiting. He’s oddly nervous about opening it.

 Two years ago, I was standing somewhere I never thought I’d be. Like, an actual dream come true. And I walked away. I’m not sorry about it, but I can’t help remembering how it felt. Sorry if I was an ass. It was…nice. To have someone to listen to.

Like many of the pieces of information about their lives they share with one another, it’s vague enough that Danny could be talking about anything. And yet, Fox gets the feeling this is one of the most personal things that Danny has told him. Any time, and I mean that, Grant types back.

Thank you, Danny replies. You helped more than I can say. You and the pint of ice cream I picked up from the store.

Well, now I’m a bit upset. I didn’t have any ice cream.

I’d offer to share, but aside from the obvious issue of distance, I may have polished it off last night while watching Labyrinth for the millionth time.

Grant smiles. David Bowie’s outfits being a main draw, I presume?

Maybe now, Danny answers. Then his email turns serious. In high school I was a chubby art kid with lots of Iron Maiden tee shirts. My survival strategy was being invisible. But I had girlfriends, even in art school. I didn’t fall for a guy for real until I was twenty-four.

Grant takes a deep breath and stares at the screen. That’s… personal. It’s probably too much to hope that it’s also pointed, but fuck if Grant doesn’t want to read it that way.

My younger years were full of experimentation. I’d do anything with anyone, just to say I’d done it. I didn’t fall in love with a man, really fall in love, until ten or so years ago. But he was married and then I met the woman I would marry and well. The love I felt for him faded away for a variety of reasons. I hate him now, he admits. I don’t hate her, in fact, I still very much love her. Relationships are…complex.

The answer, when it comes, is equally revealing. The guy I fell for was a good friend; still is. So is his wife. But there are other exes I’d be totally happy to never see again, so I know what you mean. Nothing is ever as simple as it is on paper, is it?

No, it never is, Grant replies. We can only learn from it, I suppose. Though, the lessons can be unimaginably painful.

I hope you haven’t had too much pain, Fox, Danny replies.

Grant thinks about it for a long moment. Then he types, I’ve had my share, but it was worth it to be where I am today.

I’m really glad, is Danny’s reply. I feel the same way about my own life. I don’t really have time for regret. Too many other things to think about and do.

What’s the most exciting thing you’re doing right now? Grant asks.

It takes a while for the answer to come. I’ve been working on a project with a couple of friends of mine, Danny answers. It’s pretty different than the work I’ve done before, but I’m really fucking excited about it. It launches in November, and I can’t fucking wait.

That…was telling. Given all the other things he knows about Danny, he’s pretty sure he can figure out who he is from that. He’s not actually sure if he wants to or not. He supposes he doesn’t have to decide right this second. Instead, he emails Danny back. There’s very little more satisfying than collaborating with people you like and work well together with.

 Oh, I definitely know all about that.

Grant thinks about the script currently waiting on his own computer. Speaking of which, I’m afraid I need to focus in on a project of my own, otherwise my collaborators may come after me with creative implements of torture.

I suppose I can let you get to it, then ;), Danny replies. Good luck!

To you too, Grant replies, setting his phone aside. He’s not going to be able to work on his script. He can’t concentrate on anything but Danny.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, and then another. He goes for a walk instead and leaves his phone on his desk. He’s the one who’s maybe said too much now. If Danny knew who he was, he’d know exactly who it is that Grant hates so much. No one knows that story in its entirety except for Kristan. “Trust,” he mutters to himself.

Mark hadn’t been deserving of his trust. But even with all the reasons that it’s absurd, he thinks that Danny is. He takes a breath. He doesn’t need to borrow trouble. The days are getting warmer and it’s nice to walk when the sun is out.

*

He doesn’t look. Weeks go by and he doesn’t make the searches, pull the strings he knows will get him answers. He just keeps talking to Danny, idle and meaningful and irreverent and sweet in turn. Then he gets an email from his publicist. Mentions of him in the press, mostly pre-San Diego press stuff, most of it interviews he at least vaguely remembers giving; but lost in the forest of links is “Rocker Gerard Way’s Colorful Future” and Grant - stops.

Something vaguely remembered is teasing at the back of his mind. He clicks the link. It’s an article from the Oregonian and the subtitle makes everything suddenly clear. Portland resident Gerard Way talks about life since the breakup of his massively successful band and how going back to his comic book roots has helped him ground himself.

He scans the article for where his publicist has highlighted his name. The ostensible villain of the series is an assassin named Korse, who Way admits is drawn to resemble comic-book scribe Grant Morrison as a kind of homage to his biggest influence.

Grant lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Then, he scrolls back up to the top of the article, and reads it from the beginning.

The quotes from Gerard Way are what really give the game away. This is his Danny. Their words are the same. And the comic sounds like everything he would have expected Danny to write. The thing is, Grant knows this band. He listened to their last album for hours on end when he first started writing Batman. He even remembers when he’d read about their breakup, right after a - massive gig at Madison Square Garden, two years ago. His stomach feels strangely untethered, his insides twisting like snakes.

The pieces of Danny’s life that he’s gathered over the last several months, previously free-floating, slot neatly into place. His reluctance to share personal details makes sudden, perfect sense. His reasons have been the same as Grant’s.  

Well. Grant has the added embarrassment of trolling his own fan board, cannot forget that wee detail.

“Gerard,” he murmurs, trying it out. Before he can talk himself out of it, he does an image search. The majority of the photos are of Gerard Way, frontman; standing on stages all over the world, feet planted, arms raised. He remembers something that Danny had said once, about being invisible, and he can’t help but laugh. He laughs more when he remembers Danny–Gerard–calling himself “a bit of a performer.”

“Only a bit, eh?” Grant asks the man in the picture, the man so clearly in command of his audience. Grant is fascinated. As if he wasn’t before. He clicks over to a new tab and pulls up the video that had been his first introduction to the band.

He watches it again with the knowledge that the man with the white hair is also the man he’s spent the last few months talking to as often as possible. It’s a heady feeling. Danny finally has a face.

And fuck, why not; Grant does another image search, looking for something more recent. He finds photos from late in the previous year of Gerard Way at a signing, hair dyed back to black, smiling at the kid across the table. Grant’s breath catches in his chest. He’s fucking beautiful and his smile makes Grant feel all lit up inside. He can’t imagine what it will be like when it’s actually directed at him.

It doesn’t occur to him until later that if Danny - Gerard - meets Grant Morrison, he’ll have to lose Fox. Grant doesn’t know what to do. Should he come clean, and tell Gerard that he’s put the pieces together?

After a while, he gets so busy, he forgets to think about it and his days seem to revolve around work, preparing for travel, and talking to Danny. To Gerard.

**

Gerard feels like he spends most of the month of June prepping for Comic-Con. Scott wants Killjoys front and center in his fall lineup - not that Gerard blames him, and the third series of Umbrella Academy just gets pushed farther and farther back as Gabriel is more and more in demand - and that means all hands on deck. Meetings at the Dark Horse offices, Skype calls with Shaun and Becky, polishing what they’ve got until it fucking gleams. Gerard’s got permanent butterflies in his stomach.

He’s excited, though. He fucking loves Comic-Con. Loves that it’s a thing he can do every year, now. Loves that he meets new, awesome people every year.

Fox has been busy too, but a few weeks before the con, Gerard emails him. Do you ever go to Comic-Con?

I assume you mean the yearly madhouse in San Diego? Fox writes back. Yes. I’ve been many times.

Are you going this year? Gerard asks. I’ll be there. Maybe we could meet up? Have coffee or something?

I would love that, Fox replies. Before Gerard can reply, a second email comes on the heels of the first. I would, however, understand if you were too busy, or needed to keep a low profile.

My schedule is pretty fucking packed, Gerard replies. But if we can swing it, I’d like to meet.

Then he reads the email again. “Low profile”… does Fox know who he is? His heart kicks at the possibility. He’s dropped enough hints–fuck, this is what he��d wanted.

He can’t quite bring himself to ask. He doesn’t know why. He’s not ashamed of his past as an international rock star. But Fox is important to him in ways he can’t even define at this point. He realizes that this is something he’d rather talk about in person.

Maybe play it by ear? Fox writes back.

Definitely, Gerard replies, relieved. He’s got plenty of other shit to sort out before he leaves for San Diego. But he can’t deny that the butterflies just got a little bit bigger. He takes a deep breath and goes back to what he was doing. An hour later, Fox sends him a news article and they spend the rest of the time Fox is up and awake chatting about it.

Gerard is willing to put it all on the back burner, if only because he’s so fucking nervous about the promo. And Fox seems - not distant, exactly, but distracted. A few days before the con, Gerard writes to him again. Here’s my cell phone number, probably the best way to get in touch with me for the next week. Text anytime.

*

On Tuesday, Gerard’s phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. Flying is hell.

Always, Gerard answers. Hi, Fox.

Hello. Sorry for the lack of introduction, I had to get that out.

Gerard grins. Understandable. I have done more than my fair share of flying and I hate it basically every time. Time zones, also. Time zones are horrible.

Also jet lag, although I can’t even say I’ve even reached that point, Fox replies. Time to find my hotel and collapse.

I fly in tomorrow. Can’t tell you how glad I am it’s a fairly short flight. For once in my life, Gerard replies.

The next morning he wakes to a brief message from Fox, wishing him a safe flight. You’re up already? Gerard teases.

The meetings have already started, Fox responds. There isn’t enough caffeine in the fucking world.

Gerard frowns. Meetings? He supposes it wouldn’t be surprising if Fox worked in the industry. Scotland is almost as saturated with comics people as Portland. And it would be a good reason for him to want to keep his own anonymity.

I’ll think of you fondly as I drink my in-flight beverage, Gerard writes back.

May the shitty airplane coffee be marginally less shitty, Fox returns.

Gerard forces himself up, gathers his bags together, and goes downstairs to meet the car service he ordered to take him to the airport. His stomach is still full of butterflies and he’s pretty sure they’re just not going to go away.

When he touches down in San Diego, he turns his phone on as soon as they’ll let him. There aren’t any texts waiting, so he sends one. Friendly skies, flown. Can’t decide if my first stop is hotel, coffee, or tacos.

I’m sure there’s a place you can procure both tacos and coffee, Fox replies as Gerard waits for his bag.

"Thank fuck for San Diego, Gerard types, grinning at his phone.

There’s a reason they pay me the big bucks, Fox replies.

 For having the brains to remind your flight-addled friends they have options? Absolutely worth at least a few big bucks.

He does find burritos and coffee, and he sends Fox a triumphant picture. Fox sends him back a picture of a tea service set up in his hotel room, but nothing else for hours.

Gerard checks into his hotel room and texts five million people to see where they are. Scott replies first, so Gerard makes sure he has his all his con stuff together and heads down to the convention center. The floor is already bustling with people getting ready for preview night. Gerard finds Scott at the Dark Horse booth.

“Gerard!” Scott says, sounding pleased. “Come look at the graphic, it’s amazing. How was your flight?” He leads Gerard around the side of the booth to where an entire panel is taken up with Becky’s art.

“It was good. Way better than say, Portland to Japan,” Gerard says. “Or Portland to the UK. And anything is better than the flight to Australia.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “You realize there are only a few people in the world who have been all the places you have, right?”

Gerard grins sheepishly, and Scott claps him on the shoulder, laughing.

“What do you think of your big debut?” he asks, pointing at the poster.

“Shit, it’s gorgeous,” Gerard replies. “Has Becky seen it yet?”

“She and Shaun were in here earlier, and they both freaked out,” Scott confirms.

Gerard takes a picture of it with his phone. He’ll tweet it later if Shaun or Becky haven’t.

“What are your plans tonight?” Scott asks him.

“Nothing? Thought I’d get here and then find out where everyone is hanging out,” Gerard replies.

Scott laughs. “Well, I want to sit down with the three of you and go over some stuff before the madness begins tomorrow. And then maybe take you all out for dinner.”

“Hey, big spender,” Gerard teases, and Scott grins at him.

“Says the guy who can walk into any party he wants,” Scott says, and Gerard snorts.

“No, I can’t. But maybe…” He should call Jim and see if he can get an invite to the DC party.

Scott just laughs at him. “You really can. If you decided you wanted it, you totally could. I know you’ve never been that guy, but you could do it.”

Gerard makes a face at him. Before he can respond, his phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket instantly, but it’s Shaun. Where you at?

Dark Horse booth with Scott.

 Don’t move. We’ll be right there.

“Shaun and Becky incoming,” Gerard reports.

Scott nods, but one of his people calls him over so Gerard goes back to poking at his phone. I like seeing all the booths in disarray, he texts Fox. Makes how everything looks all set up more interesting.

He doesn’t get a response right away, which isn’t surprising given Fox’s radio silence over the past hour or so; he’s probably in another meeting. Gerard deliberates for a moment, and then he’s pulling up Jim’s name in his contacts.

Already busy working the con? he texts.

Feel like I’ve been in meetings for a year already, Jim replies. And they continue all day. You should come to the DC party so I can actually see you.

I guess I’m not doing anything else tonight, Gerard types back, grinning at his phone.

“What are you plotting?” Becky asks from beside him, making him jump.

He grins. “Got an invite from Jim to the DC party tonight.”

Becky laughs at him. “You dog! You’ll give me all the dirt, right?”

“Of course I will, what kind of friend do you think I am?”

She beams at him and pulls him in for a hug. “The best sort, usually.”

“Missed you too,” he mutters against the top of her head. “New York is a fucking long way away.”

“I barely see Shaun, and he’s just across the river,” she replies with a wink at Shaun.

Shaun grins and scrubs a hand through his hair. “I’m all work and no play unless it’s with my kids,” he says.

Gerard smiles and gives Shaun a hug. “It’s good to see you guys. I’ve missed you.”

“You’ll be sick of us by Sunday,” Becky predicts.

“I wasn’t sick of Frank after seven years,” Gerard points out. They both laugh.

“So. Discuss shit now, or wait and do some wandering while we still have the chance?” Becky asks.

It’s Scott who answers. “I still have some things to finish up here, but come back in an hour and we’ll talk.”

Gerard exchanges a look with Shaun and Becky. “Where to?”

“Coffee,” they say in unison.

Scott laughs at them and they go off to find the nearest Starbucks kiosk. This is why he fucking loves Comic-Con. So many things to see and do, friends to hang out with, new friends to meet. As he waits for Becky and Shaun to order, someone taps on his shoulder and shyly asks for an autograph. Gerard smiles wide and scrawls his usual “xoxo g” on the woman’s badge.

They wander around, watching the setup and stopping frequently when they run into people they know. Gerard knows it’s his last chance to wander around without a security person nearby. It’s kind of nice to feel like a normal person for an hour. At least Mehdi still comes out with him for this shit.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he fishes it out. Oh fuck, save me from this goddam meeting.

Gerard can’t help but beam. I would, except I don’t want you to get in any hot water with higher-ups.

I’m rapidly reaching the point of not giving a fuck, Fox replies.

Think happy thoughts? Gerard offers.

Haha, Fox replies. I’m forcing myself through today, but tomorrow, I want to play hooky and have coffee with you.

Gerard grins stupidly at his phone and replies, YES. Which is, of course, when Becky catches him.

“What’s got you so attached to that thing, anyway?” She prods his side where he’s ticklish.

He squawks and moves away from her. “I. Um. Have an internet friend,” Gerard admits. “We’re planning on meeting tomorrow.”

“An internet friend, huh?” Becky asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Gerard tries, and fails, to school his face into something less giddy.

“Frankie told me about this,” Shaun says, folding his arms over his chest with a matching eyebrow. Gerard’s friends are terrible. “I think that means I’m supposed to threaten this guy Jersey-style.”

Gerard laughs and rubs his cheek with his palm. “Frankie has a big mouth. And if he told you, that’s probably exactly what he intends. But like. We’re just friends. It’s not–” Except that for Gerard, it’s exactly like that.

“Mmm hmm,” says Becky, clearly not buying it.

“If coffee goes well tomorrow, I’ll maybe bring him to the panel,” Gerard says finally.

“And then I can go all Jersey on his ass?” Shaun asks hopefully. “I need the practice for my kids.”

“I’ll help!” says Becky, and she and Shaun high-five.  Gerard buries his face in his hands.

The next time they get distracted, he texts Fox. My friends are giving me a hard time.

In my experience, that’s what friends are for, Fox replies.

 That’s what they tell me. Anyway. I have a meeting and a dinner and then I have to go to a very fancy party and hope I don’t embarrass myself. So if I don’t talk to you again, have a good night!

You as well, Fox replies. We’ll hammer out coffee details tomorrow.

Definitely, Gerard agrees. Tomorrow. He can’t fucking wait.

The meeting and dinner with Scott - for which he manages to also collect Eric and some of the other Dark Horse people, which is cool - goes as well as Gerard could hope for, and when they’re done, Shaun walks back to the hotel with him and they catch up in person for a little while longer. It’s really great to see him. And Becky. He needs to get back east again soon. He misses a lot of people.

When Shaun leaves to go back to his own hotel room and call his wife, Gerard starts rifling through his suitcase. He comes up with a white button-down, a black waistcoat, and dark jeans. Totally fancy, at least for a party of comics people.

He texts Jim, Hope I’m on the list! and goes downstairs before he can get too nervous.

He finds the party easily enough and Jim is standing near the entrance, which makes Gerard’s life easier. “Gerard Way!” Jim waves, and the attendant at the door waves Gerard through.

“Jim!” Gerard beams. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me?”

“Only a little,” Jim replies. “I’ve got some people I want to introduce you to.”

Gerard frowns at him. “I thought you wanted to hang out with me! I see how it is.”

Jim just laughs. “Let’s get you something to drink and see who’s hanging around the bar.” He weaves through the crowd and Gerard follows. “I’d like a Diet Coke and a Jack and Coke,” Jim orders. He hands Gerard the Diet Coke and suddenly Jim waves his hand. “Grant!” he calls.

Gerard’s eyes go a little wide. Because that’s… That’s Grant Morrison, holy fuck. He struggles to keep his inner fanboy from freaking out.

“You two haven’t met, have you?”

“N-no,” Gerard answers automatically. Morrison comes over immediately, eyes sweeping over Gerard, face wreathed with a smile.

“Grant Morrison, Gerard Way. If you two have never met, it’s a crime.”

Gerard smiles and reaches out to shake Morrison’s hand. “Hi. I’ve been a big fan of your work for a long time.”

Morrison shakes back and his smile widens. He really is a fucking attractive man, even more so close up. And his suit is as fabulous as advertised. “I listened to The Black Parade for hours on repeat as I wrote Batman,” Morrison says. “And I fucking love The Umbrella Academy.”

“Your Doom Patrol was a huge inspiration,” Gerard admits. “I’ve always wanted to talk to you about -” He catches himself. “Jim, this was mean, I’m going to totally embarrass myself here and monopolize Mr. Morrison.”

Morrison leans in a bit, conspiratorially. “It’d be a favor to me,” he says, shooting a dark look across the room to a knot of people in suits. “And please, call me Grant.”

Gerard bites the inside of his cheek and grins. “Well, Grant, in that case, I have been reliably informed that I’ll talk someone’s ear off if given half a fucking chance. The Suits will never get the opportunity.”

Grant crosses his arms over his chest. “Do your worst, Gerard Way.”

“I knew you two would get along,” Jim says brightly.

“So did I,” Grant says. Gerard grins wider.

Gerard is pretty sure he talks Grant’s ear off for at least an hour. A couple of times he traces the outline of his phone in his pocket, but there’s no way he’s interrupting this conversation for anything. And Grant gives back as good as he gets. Gerard can’t quite tamp down the giddy thrill in the pit of his stomach, because not only is he talking with one of his heroes, but Grant is familiar with both the band and Gerard’s comics, and has plenty of questions of his own.

They literally spend the entire party talking. Gerard never wants it to end. Jim leaves them to it after a while, and Gerard never does find out who exactly Jim wanted him to meet. Their conversation isn’t without other interruptions either, but Gerard barely notices. He’s just delighted to have made such a connection with one of his heroes.

Fifteen-year-old him is breathing into a paper bag right now. Hell, thirty-three-year-old him is trying desperately to keep his eyes from going too wide. When someone with a camera comes around, Grant wraps an arm around his shoulders for the photo and Gerard tries not to squeak.

Grant grins at him. “I look forward to seeing that all over the Internet tomorrow: ‘international rock star Gerard Way with some bald guy,’” he says with audible air quotes.

Gerard rolls his eyes, though he’s pretty sure he’s blushing. “Yeah, right. ‘Comics superstar Grant Morrison with some emo dude’ is way more likely.”

Grant smiles. “A friendly wager? Perhaps the loser buys the winner coffee?” Gerard opens his mouth, then shuts it again. “No?” Grant asks quietly.

Gerard lifts his chin automatically. “Sure.”

The grin that splits Grant’s face is– fuck. “Tomorrow afternoon? Everyone needs a mid-afternoon pick-me-up,” Grant says.

Gerard smiles back. “Absolutely.” He’ll just arrange for the morning with Fox.

He realizes that if anyone is going to have to end this conversation, it seems it will have to be him. “I should probably call it a night soon,” he says, regretfully. “But it was, fuck, so amazing to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Grant replies with a grin. “I’ve felt as if we were ships passing in the night for several years now. It’s been a pleasure to finally meet you. Let’s meet at that coffee shop down the road at three, yeah?”

“Prepare to buy me a very fancy coffee,” Gerard says dramatically, and Grant laughs.

“We’ll see.” He offers a hand and Gerard shakes it.

He’s pretty sure he grins the whole way back to his hotel room.

**

Grant watches Gerard, Danny, walk away and grins wide. He’s charming and just as articulate in person as he is in his emails. About five minutes later, his pocket buzzes. You know how they say not to meet your idols because you’ll always be disappointed? So not true.

Sometimes not true, Grant corrects. I take it you had an enjoyable evening?

 I had a fucking amazing evening. What about you?

I also had a fucking amazing evening, Grant replies. Good food, good drinks, better company. But I’m looking forward to coffee tomorrow more than I can say.

Coffee twice, Grant thinks with a smirk. As long as he doesn’t fuck up the first.

He’d been idly wondering if he’d run into Gerard this evening, after Danny’s comment about going to a “fancy party.” But he couldn’t have hoped that things would have worked out as perfectly as they had. He slips out of the party and makes his way back to his hotel. Yes, it was the perfect evening. He won’t spoil the rest of the night by staying.

His mobile is lit up when he gets out of the bath after his nighttime routine. What time tomorrow?

 I’ll be able to escape my meetings by mid-morning. Would eleven suit?

That would be perfect, Gerard replies. Near the ATMs by the escalators?

Which ones? Grant texts back with a chuckle.

…Fair, Gerard replies, and texts again a moment later with a specific location, far enough off of the main drag that Grant isn’t terribly worried about being interrupted. Grant is betting he’ll have security with him if he has any sense whatsoever, at any rate. Grant hopes he has security with him, else he’ll start worrying about Gerard’s self-preservation skills.

Perfect, he replies. Sleep well.

You too, Fox, Gerard replies. I really, really can’t wait for tomorrow.

Neither can I, Grant replies and puts his phone down for the night.

He sleeps relatively well and dresses in his grey pinstripe suit for the day. He goes down for a couple of short meetings, chats with fans and fellow creators, but he can’t stop thinking about how in a very short time, all will be revealed.

He’s nervous as fuck, actually. He doesn’t think his worst-case scenario will happen, but it doesn’t stop him picturing it. If this goes badly, he’ll lose someone who’s managed to become one of his very closest friends. Someone, Grant thinks, who could very easily be much more than merely a friend.

When it’s nearly eleven, he takes a fortifying breath and makes his way toward where they agreed to meet. He catches sight of Gerard’s neon hair right away. He’s got a big guy in a black polo standing next to him who he’s chatting animatedly to, but no one seems to have spotted him yet, or else the red hair just blends into the sea of cosplay.

Grant sees the moment Gerard spots him by the way his eyes widen. Grant smiles and walks up to them. “Hello, Danny,” he says. Gerard’s mouth drops open.

“No,” he breathes. The big guy next to him shifts and Gerard lifts a hand, palm out, and says, “It’s fine, Mehdi, just - ” His eyes dart around the lobby and Medhi points.

“Maintenance corridor.”

Grant deems it wise to keep his mouth shut until they get the privacy Gerard is clearly looking for.

“…Fox?” Gerard asks, when there’s a door between them and the bustle of the con. “But- Grant? I don’t-”

“I was having a bad day and lurking the message board, because of course that’s a good idea when you’re having a bad day. And there you were talking as if you had a window into my head, and I couldn’t not talk to you,” Grant explains quietly. “I always wanted to talk to you, and after a while all I wanted was to tell you, especially after I figured you out -” Gerard twitches slightly, though he’d had to have known his own cover was blown for a while - “but best case is, I look like a self-obsessed twat, and worst case you hate me for lying, so -” he shrugs expressively.

“So you wanted to do it in person,” Gerard says, slowly. “I get that. I… had a feeling that you knew who I was, but I didn’t want to ask you about it until we met.” He’s still looking a bit wide around the eyes. “I- you’re Grant Morrison.”

“I am,” Grant replies with a smile. “And you are one of my dearest friends, and I’d dearly like that to continue.”

“We have a date later,” Gerard says. “Um. Or. Not a date, but.”

“Guess we do. If you’ll forgive me for…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Gerard blurts. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t do, I mean, shit, I’m a mod on your board, I -” He’s turning as red as his hair.

“Gerard,” Grant says, testing out the feel of the name in his mouth. He finds one of Gerard’s hands and takes it in his own. “Everything I said last night, about how the things you inspire me? All of that was true.”

Grant sees Gerard swallow. “I…that means so fucking much to me. You mean a lot to me. As Grant Morrison the creator and Fox, my friend from the Internet.”

“Let’s edit that down to ‘my friend Grant,’” he suggests gently.

“Okay,” Gerard says softly. They’re staring at each other. Grant realizes that he’s still holding Gerard’s hand, maybe a little bit too tightly, but he can’t make himself let go. A grin stretches across Gerard’s face. “You’re Fox. Fuck. That’s amazing.”

“Amazing is better than any of the words I expected,” Grant says wryly. He can’t take his eyes off of Gerard. His fucking face…he’s beautiful, especially when he smiles.

“How could it be anything else?” Gerard asks.

“I was mentally prepared for any number of reactions and fully prepared to woo you with the promise of more coffee and maybe a script or two that no one has seen. Also begging, if need be,” Grant replies.

“Maybe I’ll hold out for the scripts,” Gerard said, chin going up in that same gesture from last night. Grant doesn’t think he’s imagining him leaning closer, though.

“Only if you show me this character based on your ‘biggest influence,’” he murmurs.

“Oh my god,” Gerard moans, scrubbing his free hand over his face, cheeks going even redder. “I knew that was going to come back to bite me.”

“I love it,” Grant replies with a big grin. Gerard hasn’t let go of his hand yet. “I seem to recall promising you coffee.”

“I seem to recall promising my friends that if coffee went well, I’d bring you to my panel this afternoon,” Gerard admits.

Grant thinks about his schedule for the afternoon, pleased when he realizes that he’s not got any meetings or panels of his own. “My panel is at five,” Grant says. “So I can accommodate that.”

Gerard beams at him. “Awesome.”

“Assuming coffee goes well,” Grant murmurs.

“Call me optimistic, but, uh. I’m pretty sure it’s going to,” Gerard says. He squeezes their joined hands.

Grant smiles wider. “That was my feeling as well. And don’t forget, we have a bet to settle.”

“I’m thinking of asking for higher stakes,” Gerard says.

“Oh?” Grant asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe dinner and coffee?” Gerard asks hopefully. Grant hopes he’s not imagining the breathlessness.

“Acceptable,” he nods with a small smirk he can’t quite contain. “Now, is your friend in the black polo out there cracking his knuckles or anything like that? It’s been -” Grant feels like it’s been forever, because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Gerard’s face since he hit the lobby.

Gerard grins. “Nah, it’s fine. He’s been giving me shit all morning because I couldn’t shut up about meeting Grant Morrison last night, or about meeting my internet pen-pal today.”

“I take it the two of you have a history?” Grant asks.

Gerard nods. “He was one of our security guys for several tours. He still comes to help me out when he can.” This is one of the reasons Grant is sure one Gerard Way will be buying him dinner tonight. Needing - and being used to - security guys trailing you everywhere is not in Grant’s playbook.

They should go back out. And, much as Grant is loathe to admit it, they likely shouldn’t be holding hands when they do. He laces their fingers together briefly and forces himself to pull his hand away. “Come on, Gerard Way. Let’s go get some coffee and find somewhere we can continue our conversation.”

“VIP lounge?” Gerard suggests, with the faintest twist of a smirk.

“Glass houses,” Grant replies, watching the smirk blossom and knowing they’re on the exact same page. He opens the door for Gerard and waves him through.

After the quiet of the hallway, stepping back out into the noise of the lobby is a bit of a shock. The man in the black polo, standing next to the door with his arms crossed, gives Gerard an exasperated look.

“Sorry!” Gerard says. The man rolls his eyes as if this is an oft-repeated exchange. “Mehdi, this is Grant Morrison. Who also happens to be Fox.”

“Convenient,” Mehdi says, offering a hand to Grant.

“I think so,” Grant says evenly, because he’s pretty sure Mehdi’s bicep is the size of Grant’s thigh, but he really does think so.

“Me too,” Gerard agrees, beaming. “Now. Coffee?” He sounds so hopeful that Grant has to laugh.

“Coffee,” Grant confirms. “Upstairs.” They walk toward the escalator and Mehdi follows a couple of feet behind. When a group of teenagers approaches Gerard, he steps in to keep them from mobbing him and produces a Sharpie for Gerard to sign with from the depths of his cargo shorts.

Grant stands to the side and watches until someone actually notices him. He poses contentedly for a photo and signs a Batman print someone pulls out of one of those giant bags, and Mehdi sighs and extends his efforts to keeping both of them moving. Gerard looks beyond amused.

“You’re the best,” Gerard tells Mehdi once they’ve made it into the VIP lounge. “I’m buying you the biggest coffee ever.”

“Damn right you are,” Mehdi replies. They go up to the small Starbucks kiosk and order.

Gerard hands Mehdi his coffee and Mehdi points at a chair near one of the doors. “I’ll be over there.”

Grant and Gerard just stare at each other over the tops of their coffee cups for a moment once they sit down. Grant can feel his lips twitching, and Gerard huffs out a laugh. “How long have you known it was me?” Gerard asks him.

“Since I came across your interview with The Oregonian in an pre-con email from my agent. I could have figured it out much sooner,” Grant replies.

“But you didn’t,” Gerard says.

“I…in so many ways, it didn’t matter,” Grant says. “Until it did.”

“I wanted you to figure it out,” Gerard admits. “I mean, not at first? But then talking to you was so good, and I felt like it would maybe be okay.”

Grant smiles. “I never really believed I could find a friend like you on the Internet. I’d seen too many like the arse who posted the thread where we met. I’ve never been happier to be proven wrong.”

“And the embarrassment -”

“I’ve made an arse of myself more times than I can count,” Grant says. “Risk versus reward.” He reaches across the tabletop and nudges Gerard’s fingers with his. Gerard taps Grant’s fingertips with his own once, twice, three times, grinning up at Grant through his eyelashes. Fuck. Seeing photographs hadn’t anywhere near prepared Grant for how stupidly attractive Gerard is.

Gerard takes a deep breath. “I keep thinking about how it was you all along and it’s blowing my fucking mind.”

Grant takes a sip of coffee and does not say anything dirty. What he does say is, “It’s a bit strange, to feel like you know someone before you ever find out their name. But… that made it easier, sometimes. To tell the truth.”

Gerard nods. “It totally did. I can just be…me. With you. I felt like that last night, too.”

“And I liked it. Like it.” Grant looks him over.

“Me, too,” Gerard says softly.

Grant wishes Gerard were closer, that they had a little more privacy. He settles for reaching out to squeeze Gerard’s hand again. “You’ll have to fill in some of the details of some of your stories for me at some point,” Grant says.

“Of course,” Gerard says. “You too, you know. I just want to - listening to you is -” he gets a little pink again.

Grant decides to change the subject, because otherwise they’ll both be blushing. He makes a mental note, though. This is absolutely a discussion they could come back to. He asks about Gerard’s panel instead. Which is the correct choice. Gerard even gets out his iPad and shows Grant a folder full of sketches and concept art. The character based on Grant is immediately apparent. Grant rubs a hand over his own head and grins.

“I also storyboarded a music video for ‘Mama’ in which I wanted you to play the devil,” Gerard says. “It would have cost too much money.”

“I would have said yes in an instant,” Grant says with a grin.

“Yes, that is the perfect expression right there,” Gerard tells him. His eyes are climbing all over Grant and he’s not bothering to hide it. All of the nervousness Grant had been feeling this morning has been completely replaced by warmth low in his belly. He can’t help but beam at Gerard. He can’t quite believe his luck. “What are you thinking?” Gerard asks him.

“I’m thinking about how stupidly fortunate I’ve been, that this is my life,” Grant says, truthfully.

Gerard smiles wide. “Good thing to think about.”

“Particularly,” Grant adds, “Because you are now part of it.”

“I was before too, Fox,” Gerard says with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ah, but now I get all of you.” Grant only barely even attempts to keep the suggestiveness out of his tone. Gerard turns red regardless, which is entirely gratifying. He wonders how much of the remainder of the weekend he can get away with spending with Gerard. He won’t lie; he’s hoping for all of it. He’ll settle for a few meals.

They finish their coffees and keep talking for several minutes, until Gerard makes a face and fishes his phone out of his pocket. It’s buzzing somewhat angrily. He rolls his eyes. “Becky,” he says and answers. There’s a bit of a cacophony on the other end and Gerard laughs. “No, I’m not fucking dead in an alley. Yes, I’m having a good time. The twins? Lunch? Hold on.” He pulls his phone away from his mouth. “Wanna go to lunch with me and my friends?”

“Of course I do,” Grant tells him.

Gerard reports this back to his friend and glances slyly at Grant once he’s hung up. “They’re going to shit themselves.”

Grant grins back. “Well then, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Gerard smiles and stands. He reaches out a hand to help Grant up. He doesn’t let go as he walks toward Mehdi. “Going to lunch,” he says.

Mehdi nods. “Cab or walking?”

Gerard laughs. “Cab, if only so you don’t have an aneurysm.”

Mehdi still walks them to the cab stand, which Grant finds amusing. Gerard seems to expect it, and he waves his phone as they get in and promises, “I’ll call when I’m on my way back for the panel, but I’ll be with Becky and Shaun so…”

“So you’ll be even more likely to wander off chasing a fucking butterfly,” Mehdi tells him darkly. “I’ve met you, Way.”

Gerard laughs. “Fine, fine. I’ll call no matter what.”

“I’ll pretend to be his surly, bald bodyguard should the need arise. I’m nobody away from the convention center,” Grant offers.

Mehdi eyes him. “Scrawny, but it might work.”

“I’m from Glasgow, scrawny is a technicality,” Grant replies with a smirk. Mehdi favors him with the hint of a smile.

“We’ll be fine,” Gerard insists, as he climbs into a waiting cab.

“I’ll believe it when I’m shutting you in a hotel room for the night,” Mehdi says.

A hotel room, huh, Grant thinks.

“He doesn’t really,” Gerard says when they’re on their way, cheeks stained pink. “I don’t get locked in. I’m an adult.”

“I certainly hope so,” Grant drawls.

Gerard looks straight at him, lips parted a little bit. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks determined. “You flirting with me, Fox?”

“I am absolutely flirting with you. Tell me to fuck off and I will,” Grant replies. He is almost certain Gerard will do nothing of the sort.

“That would be really dumb of me,” Gerard smiles, “since it’s all I’ve wanted to hear for months.”

Grant’s grin gets broader. “Me fucking too,” he murmurs, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Gerard squeezes back. The rest of the ride through the Gaslamp District is short and the cab pulls up in front of a small Mexican restaurant tucked between a chemist and a clothing store. There’s a noticeable lack of costumes, which makes Grant assume it’s enough of a hole-in-the-wall to escape heavy convention business. Also, it’s not the weekend yet. But a large round table in the corner is filled with people who immediately wave at Gerard - then start staring.

Gerard tugs Grant over, muttering, “Sorry in advance.”

Grant laughs. “They don’t scare me.”

“Good. Just…I’m pretty sure Shaun swore an oath to Frank that he’d give you a Jersey-style talking to, so. Watch out for that,” Gerard warns.

Grant laughs. “I’ve given a Glasgow-style talking to, I expect they’re much the same.”

Gerard grins. “Probably.” They keep walking. Gerard doesn’t let go of his hand.

“Well, this is unexpected,” says the redhead Grant assumes is Becky Cloonan.

“Everyone, this is Grant,” Gerard says cheerfully. “Grant, this is everybody.”

“Oh my god, Gerard,” Becky says and laughs. She holds out her hand and introduces herself and the rest follow suit.

“I hope I don’t need to introduce myself,” says a familiar voice behind them.

“Jill,” Grant turns and beams.

“Hullo, Grant,” Jill says, wrapping him in a one-armed hug.

“I’ve missed you, beautiful,” he tells her.

“Always the flatterer,” she replies with a grin and turns to Gerard. “You look like you tripped and fell into an anime. Looks good on you, Gerard.”

“Gerard decided to turn himself into a character from our comic for inspiration or something,” the guy who’d introduced himself as Shaun says. Grant snorts.

“You can’t talk,” Jill warns.  

“I can laugh precisely because I’ve done it,” Grant replies with a grin and runs a hand over his bald head. Everyone laughs, but Grant turns the conversation to Korse and Becky and Gerard are only too happy to go on about him for a while.

“Also, wait until you see Gabriel’s variant cover for him,” Becky says, gesturing at one of the twins.

“I’m familiar with your work,” Grant tells Gabriel. “I’m sure it’s stunning.”

“We’ll have to get you a print,” Gerard says with a grin.

“I would love that,” Grant replies.

No one actually brings up the elephant in the room - or on the message board - other than in sidelong looks and a few jokes, which makes Gerard seem to relax a lot. It’s nice to see him with his friends, but it’s nice to be a part of the conversation too.

Unsurprisingly, Gerard’s friends are a delightful, whip-smart group. He’s fairly certain he’s going to be spending a good amount of time with them over the course of the weekend, and it won’t be a hardship.

They split up after lunch, the twins and Jill choosing to walk back while Gerard, Grant, Shaun and Becky catch a cab as Gerard promised.

In the cab, Shaun turns a stern eye on Grant and says, “So. What are your intentions towards our Gerard?”

Grant laughs, utterly delighted. “To be an excellent friend and companion to him for as long as he’ll let me.”

He can actually see Shaun bite down on an additional question. “You realize that you’re never going to live this down,” Becky says, cheerfully bumping Gerard’s shoulder with her own.

“I’m okay with it,” Gerard replies. “Who else gets to say Grant Morrison was their pen pal?”

“Was?” Grant questions mildly.

Gerard takes his hand and looks up at him meaningfully. “I don’t think it’s still pen-pals if you’ve, like, met,” Gerard tells him.

“As long as you still write me, I don’t care what we call it,” Grant says.

He’s fairly sure the repeatedly clasped hands mean it’s something else entirely, but he’s being a gentleman. Such a gentleman. It’s…difficult. Dinner. Gerard has promised him dinner. What happens after that, well. They’ll see. Grant laces their fingers together again anyway.

“Shaun,” Becky whispers loudly. “They’re being gross.”

“I’m texting Frank. I’m out of ideas for threats, I suck at this,” Shaun mumbles from the middle seat.

“Does Frank know that Gerard is being gross with Grant Morrison?” Becky asks curiously.

Shaun grins at her. “Not yet. I’m trying to decide how to do it. Picture, you think? Or something else?”

“I know where you live,” Gerard tells him, but there’s no bite behind it.

Grant feels his lips twitch and can’t quite control it. “You could let me talk to him,” he suggests smoothly.

Becky and Shaun share matching expressions of unholy glee. Gerard laughs helplessly beside him. “Do it. Troll the fuck out of him.”

Grant doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone place a phone call so fast in his entire life. Then again, he hasn’t had a mobile for his entire adult life like these three. Gerard thrusts the phone at Grant, and he puts it to his ear just in time to hear a voice with a Jersey accent even thicker than Shaun’s. “Gee?” the voice asks. “I figured you’d be so deep in Comic-Con shit that you’d forget the rest of us exist.”

“He’s in the trenches,” Grant replies. “Fighting the good fight and all that shit. Frank, is it?”

“Who’s asking?” Frank replies.

“Grant Morrison.” Frank’s initial response is a scoff. “Also known as Fox,” he adds.

“Okay, now you’re really fucking with me. Did you lose a bet? Poker game? Gerard’s poker face is nonexistent, can’t be that. And who are you really? A Shrek cosplayer? Come on, you can tell me, I’m a nice boy.”

“I’m quite serious,” Grant says, solemnly. The other three are grinning at him.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I’m going to have my friend Mr. Simon here send you a picture,” Grant tells Frank and slings an arm around Gerard’s shaking shoulders, squeezing him tight and blowing a kiss at Shaun’s phone.

A moment later, Grant hears, “Holy fucking fuck.”

Grant laughs and the rest of the cab does too. “I did tell you,” he says.

“How in the fuck was he writing to you for months and didn’t have a clue?” Grant looks at Gerard, and tries to think of something witty to say about his own intelligence, but Frank just keeps talking. “Never mind, it’s Gerard, of course he didn’t have a clue. You -” he hauls in a breath like he’s lighting a cigarette or something - “You be good to him,” he says, soft and far less intimidating that Grant had expected.

“I will,” Grant says, equally soft. Sure.

“Good,” Frank replies. “If not, I will fucking come all the way to Scotland or wherever it is you live and make your life hell.”

Grant smiles into the phone. “I have no doubt.”

“Now that that’s over with,” Frank says, “We3 is one of my favorite comics ever.”

“Mine as well,” Grant tells him. “Thank you.”

“Also, you made me like Superman, for which I will never, ever forgive you.” Frank sounds hilariously put out.

Grant laughs. “If it helps, it took me a bit to wrap my head around him and what he stood for.”

“But you did,” Frank says. “You understand - a lot of complicated people.”

“I try,” Grant replies. Gerard taps him on the arm, and Grant looks up to see that they’re approaching the convention center. “We’re about to get back to business. I’ll give you to Gerard,” Grant says. “It was nice to talk to you, Frank.”

“You too,” Frank says automatically, though he does sound a bit stunned.

Gerard takes the phone back. “Hey, Frankie,” he says, and then, “I know! I know, I know. Only me. Okay, I gotta go. I’ll call soon, promise. Love you too. Bye.” Becky and Shaun are still smirking, but Gerard looks different now. More - in command, like the man with the microphone in front of thousands. He smiles at Grant, serene. “Time to go work.”

Mehdi meets them at the cab stand and ushers all four of them briskly through the crowds. It’s rather novel. Not that Grant has never had security with him for anything, but it never feels quite this natural to him.

Scott Allie gives him a double-take when he walks into the staging area for Gerard’s panel, which is sort of gratifying. Gerard, Shaun, and Becky are standing in a tight knot, heads bent close together. Grant smiles and looks out at the crowd. The portion of young women in the audience is certainly higher than most of the other panels he’s been part of. It’s refreshing. He’s very much looking forward to talking with Gerard about his experiences, now that their secrets are revealed.

Gerard in front of a crowd is… incandescent. His smile lights up the entire room. He has the room in the palm of his hand. He makes them cry, makes them laugh, all while making sure Becky and Shaun say their piece as well.

“He’s so good at this,” one of the Dark Horse staffers murmurs.

“A born performer,” Grant agrees softly.

“Suppose it makes sense,” the staffer goes on. “He’s a great writer too. Some people get all the talent.”

She shoots a look at Grant after she says it and he snickers and shrugs.

He can’t take his eyes of off Gerard for the rest of the panel. Fuck, he wants– wants to tangle a hand in Gerard’s hair and pull him close. Wants to mouth at the skin of his throat. Wants to take him back to Grant’s hotel room and do wicked things to him. He smiles to himself. He’s fairly certain Gerard will let him. But one thing at a time.

His mouth twitches with a smile a few times during the Q&A when something out of Gerard’s mouth is particularly…Danny. And he can help his laugh at Gerard’s expression when somebody asks, “Does Grant Morrison know you’ve based a character on him?”

Gerard sneaks a look over at him with a wide grin. “I don’t know, does he?” Then he refocuses on the fan asking the question. “He probably does if he reads the papers.”

“I’m sure he’s thrilled,” Shaun adds, dryly.

Grant can’t help it. He walks up behind Gerard and leans toward the mic. “He is, thank you.” The whole crowd laughs and cheers. Grant waves and goes back to where he was standing. Becky takes over the mic and starts talking about character design, and Grant’s phone buzzes a second later.

 Exhibitionist.

He huffs out a laugh and responds, Glass houses.

Gerard gives no indication that he’s doing anything other than listening attentively to Becky. Grant fucking adores him.

The Q&A ends after two more questions. Grant watches as the kids come up to talk to the three of them. They stand there signing autographs and answering questions until a con staffer speaks to Mehdi and he moves in to get them. Becky breaks off from the rest of them to go back to her booth, but Mehdi deposits Shaun and Gerard, along with Grant, in the closest VIP green room.

“That was fucking amazing,” Gerard says. Shaun goes in for a high five, and then the two of them hug.

“From an outsider’s perspective, I thought you were all wonderful,” Grant tells them. “The first thing I noticed about the room was how diverse the crowd was, and they loved you.”

“I can’t fucking wait for November,” Shaun says, grin splitting his face.

“It’s gonna be great,” Gerard says confidently.

“I am more than certain that it will,” Grant says. “And I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

“You don’t have to wait,” Gerard says. “You’ve got an in.” He pours himself a cup of coffee from the bar in the corner. “So your panel is next.”

“It is,” Grant agrees. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. “I have some time. You’ll come?” Grant asks. He doesn’t want to let Gerard out of his sight. Not yet.

“We both will,” Shaun says, “if that’s okay?”

“Absolutely,” Grant says firmly.

Gerard beams at him and reaches over to take his hand again. “And then we have a bet to settle.”

Gerard smirks. “You mean you have a bet to lose.”

“We’ll see,” Grant tells him, smirking back.

Gerard leans close and holds out his phone to take a picture. “Selfie Friday,” he explains with a smile.

Grant laughs. “Twitter is too much pressure for me.”

“You gotta make it work for you,” Gerard tells him sagely, tapping at his phone. “I can say that because it took me a long time to actually use it. Finally I just said ‘fuck it’ and jumped in.” He looks up and smiles. “There.” He holds up his phone so Grant can see the picture.

“Gerard Way, International Rock Star, and some comics bloke,” Grant jokes.

“Whatever,” Gerard says, smiling down at his phone.

Grant rather desperately wants to kiss him. “You don’t believe me?” Grant pulls out his own phone and opens up his Twitter app. Gerard makes a show of tapping his fingers and checking the time as Grant navigates through the process of retweeting the photo, and Grant has to try hard to keep a straight face. “You have ten times the followers I do, mind, but we shall see.”

“You’re on,” Gerard agrees.

Shaun just laughs. “You’re both ridiculous. Though, for the record, my money is on Grant.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Shaun, but you’re not invited to dinner,” Gerard says.

Shaun pats Gerard’s cheek companionably. “I think I’ll survive.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, but his cheeks have gone pink. It only makes Grant want to kiss him more.

“I have a meeting to get to,” he says sadly after a moment. “You’ll come to my panel?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Gerard promises.

Grant stands and squeezes Gerard’s shoulder. “See you later, love.”

Shaun starts laughing before he’s even out of the room. Grant suppresses a smile.

**

Gerard watches Grant leave, aware that he’s probably smiling like an idiot but unable to muster up any ability to care. Shaun is laughing at him and he doesn’t really care about that, either, but he kicks Shaun in the shin anyway.

“Ow,” Shaun complains. “You gotta admit it’s a little funny, though.”

Gerard concedes the point, because, well. “This is kind of the greatest day,” he says, slinging an arm across Shaun’s shoulder.

Shaun grins and squeezes back. “I’m pretty fucking stoked on my life and I’m a little jealous of yours. Only you, Gerard Way. Only you.”

Gerard ducks his head and scrubs a hand through his hair. He’s really, really looking forward to seeing Grant’s panel. And to dinner. And… whatever comes next.

“So. Is this, like, serious?” Shaun asks.

“I don’t know,” Gerard replies. “It feels like it might be? But I don’t know for sure.”

“Guess you can take your time,” Shaun says, but he sounds dubious. Gerard can play a long game, but he’s really not all that good at being patient. In this case, he’s pretty sure he’s not going to have to be. Grant had been pretty forward, back in the cab.

“Guess so. He’s already my best friend, though. So like. I don’t know. We’ll talk and shit. Maybe even tonight,” Gerard says.

Shaun is still shaking his head. “Only you.”

“You love me,” Gerard says, laughing.

“I do, my friend. But ridiculous, amazing things happen to you,” Shaun replied.

“Call me crazy, but I’m okay with that,” Gerard tells him.

Scott tracks them down eventually, and they debrief about the panel a little bit. Then Scott gives Gerard shit for surprising him with “Grant fucking Morrison, Way, warn a guy next time, especially if he’s going to be a special guest.”

“In my defense,” Gerard says, “I had no idea that would happen until eleven this morning.”

Scott stares. “Eleven was your coffee meeting with your online pal.”

“Yes, it was,” Gerard murmurs. And waits.

“You are fucking kidding me,” Scott says, flatly.

“He’s not,” Shaun says. “His life is exactly that charmed and absurd.”

Scott tugs at his fringe. “Of course it is. Oh, Gerard.” Gerard just grins, aware that he’s probably blushing. Again. Dammit. Scott laughs and squeezes his shoulder. “Well, I’m glad it clearly went well.”

“Me too,” Gerard says fervently. So fucking glad he hardly knows what to do with himself. Gerard checks his watch. “I’ve got a panel to catch,” he says with a grin.

“Me too,” Shaun reminds him. “Let’s go.”

Predictably, the room for Grant’s panel is completely packed. Gerard peers out from the staging area in awe. It’s a much bigger room than the one Gerard’s panel had been in. There’s a higher percentage of dudes, but a not-insignificant number of women too. They all look as thrilled to be here as Gerard is. Well, maybe not quite.

Grant is standing at the other side of the staging area, head bent together with someone Gerard doesn’t recognize. Gerard stands back and watches him. He’s amazed at how familiar Grant feels to him. Having a conversation, yeah, that makes sense. But Grant’s physical presence feels normal to him as well.

Actually, most of the time it feels fucking distracting. He’d felt it last night, even when he hadn’t known that Grant was Fox. Now, it’s ten times more intense. He likes it, though. Likes it a lot. He wonders if Grant feels it too.

Okay, he doesn’t really have to wonder about that.

Across the room, Grant straightens up and turns. He lights up when he sees Gerard, and Gerard’s breath catches. Grant comes over to them immediately. “So glad you’re here.” He smooths a thumb over Gerard’s cheekbone. “Enjoy.”

Gerard catches Grant’s hand before he can pull away and squeezes their fingers together. Grant smiles at him. “Break a leg,” Gerard says.

Grant nods and stands there for a few more moments while he’s introduced. Then he takes a deep breath and bounds up onto the stage. The crowd fucking screams.

Gerard beams and spends the next hour listening to Grant talk, listening to every amazing thing that comes out of his mouth. Sometimes it’s touching and sometimes the entire room roars with laughter. Once or twice Gerard is pretty sure Grant is talking about him.

It strikes him all over again as he watches; Grant is Fox. The intelligent, hilarious, insightful man who’s become one of his very closest friends over the course of the last several months… is one of Gerard’s heroes. It’s a heady and incredible feeling. All Gerard can do is stand back and feel so fucking proud of and amazed by his friend.  

“Your face is really dumb right now,” Shaun tells him. “Like, in a sweet way. I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Shut up,” Gerard says, but his heart’s not really in it.

Grant answers audience questions and when the moderator indicates the end of the panel, he signs things and answers questions for several minutes. He glances offstage at them several times, and Gerard just grins and chats with Shaun.

Finally, Grant makes his way off the stage and back into the staging area. He doesn’t come over right away; there are people back here waiting to talk to him, too. Gerard tries to be patient. He can tell he’s failing when Shaun elbows him in the ribs. “You’re staring.”

“Do you blame me?” Gerard says.

“Nah, guess not,” Shaun laughs.

Finally, Grant takes his leave of everyone talking to him and comes their way. Gerard beams at him.

“Thanks for waiting,” Grant says. “That was a bit mental at the end. Nothing like yours,” he laughs.

“Whatever, big shot,” Gerard teases. “You were fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Grant says, running his hand over his head. It’s not quite a nervous gesture, but it’s in the same family and Gerard finds it completely endearing.

“What next?” Gerard smiles.

“I told Becky I would go bother her at her booth,” Shaun says. He holds out his hand for Grant to shake. “Great panel, man. Thanks for the invite.”

Grant smiles and shakes his hand. “I’m sure I’ll see you again over the course of the weekend.”

“Bet you will.” Shaun chuckles and squeezes Gerard’s shoulder and leaves the two of them alone. Well, not alone; there are still at least a dozen people milling around the staging area. But fuck if the way Grant is looking at him doesn’t make Gerard feel like he and Grant are the only two people here.

“So,” Grant says. “I’m mostly free the rest of the evening.”

“When’s the not-free part?” Gerard asks.

“I should put in an appearance at the Image Gala tonight,” Grant replies. “But other than that…”

“I could go with you?” Gerard offers, then adds, “Or you could skip it. We could just. Hang out.”

“I’d probably enjoy it, but I think I’d enjoy being with you more,” Grant says.

Gerard takes a deep breath, trying to settle the butterflies in his belly. “Then… We should see who’s buying who dinner.”

“What’s the best way to do that, do you think?” Grant asks.

“Retweets? Google ourselves for the last twenty-four hours and see whose name pops up in the search for the other more?” Gerard suggests. “Also see what the photo services have to say. Pretty sure that was a pro, not some random DC staffer.”

“Sounds like a lot of work. Coffee?”

“Always coffee,” Gerard agrees.

They make their way to the nearest VIP room and while Grant gets them coffee, Gerard pulls out his iPad and starts checking. And starts making more and more dismayed faces at his screen. “What the fuck.”

Grant leans over to put a cup of coffee in front of him and stays there. “You’re losing, aren’t you? You young, pretty thing, how shocking,” he murmurs in Gerard’s ear.

“But - you’re Grant fucking Morrison!” Gerard is aware that he sounds kind of petulant, but.

“But you are Gerard Way. Far more people in this world know your face, love,” Grant says with a smile.

“Well, I can afford to buy you dinner, anyway,” Gerard concedes.

Grant reaches over to pat his shoulder consolingly; Gerard catches Grant’s hand in his own. “It won’t be a hardship,” Gerard admits. “Even if I do think you should be way the fuck more famous than me.”

Grant just smiles at him. He seems perfectly happy with the outcome. To be honest, Gerard is, too.

“So. Where are we going?” Gerard asks. “I’m into anything.”

“Let’s go up to Old Town, find someplace quiet, yeah?” Grant murmurs.

“Yeah,” Gerard agrees. He feels like the air between them is crackling, charged. He almost wants to skip dinner, go straight to one of their rooms. But they have a bet to settle and he is getting hungry again.

“D’you need to let your Mehdi know you’re leaving? Or anyone else?”

“I’ll call him,” Gerard says, tucking away his tablet and pulling out his phone. He makes the call and Mehdi doesn’t even harass him that much. Gerard knows he’ll get it later, though. “Let’s find someone to get us a cab,” Gerard says.

It’s not quite as easy as that- they get stopped a few times on their way out, mostly by people they know. But soon enough they’re in a cab, and Grant is directing the driver towards Old Town. It’s a fucking gorgeous evening. But then, it’s San Diego. That’s not really a surprise.

They’re still not alone, but Grant’s warm fingers cover his. It’s good.

“I’m still having a hard time fucking believing this,” Gerard murmurs, as they watch San Diego going past the cab windows.

“Magic is like that,” Grant replies seriously. Gerard fucking believes him. “It’s easier to just believe. It’s fucking punk to believe. Everyone expects the terrible things. I choose to accept the great ones.”

Gerard really, really wants to lean in and press their lips together. It would be so fucking easy, and he knows, knows that Grant would kiss him back. He wants, but he knows if he starts, he won’t want to stop for a long fucking time. So he squeezes Grant’s hand in his.

“What does your weekend look like?” he asks.

Grant huffs. “Busier than I would like. Today was the eye of the storm, relatively speaking.”

“We’ll work around it,” Gerard says. “I have a signing tomorrow. And another the next day. And I promised to help man the booth for a while.”

“I have plenty to do myself,” Grant chuckles. “But we ought to compare schedules.”

The cab lets them off in Old Town, and they wander around for a few minutes before deciding on a little Mexican restaurant tucked out of the way in a corner. There’s a candle on the table and the whole thing is terribly romantic. Gerard grins at Grant over the table.   “Hope this is an acceptable prize,” he says.

“More than,” Grant agrees. “This is- it’s perfect, Gerard.”

Gerard smiles broadly at him and reaches across the table to take his hand. “What I really want to know is if a bet payment can count as a first date.”

Grant laughs, interlacing their fingers. “As long as it’s the first of many, I think.”

“That’s pretty much guaranteed,” Gerard replies.

Grant smiles. “Do you mind if I have a drink, love?”

“Not at all,” Gerard says, because it’s true. He trusts himself, and he trusts Grant, too.

Grant gets a Mexican beer and Gerard orders a Diet Coke. They keep holding hands. They keep talking, too, some about friends they share or friends they think they ought to share. Some about San Diego. And some conversations that they’d started months ago, back as Danny and Fox, and have been carrying on periodically ever since. It’s different but so fucking amazing to not have to wait for a response, to see Grant sitting across from him as they talk.

Gerard is pretty sure Grant is right. Magic is the only thing that can explain this. He loves the sound of Grant’s voice, the way he talks with his hands, the way he smiles.

When the food arrives, Gerard finds himself very unhappy about having to let go of Grant’s hand.

Grant laughs at him. “Tacos, Gerard. You want to eat them.”

“I do.” Gerard looks at them sadly, then at Grant.

“I’ll be here,” Grant promises.

Gerard laughs a little because he’s being ridiculous and he knows it, and lifts his taco to his mouth to take a bite. They enjoy their food silently for a few moments and then start talking again. Gerard is pretty sure they’re never going to run out of things to say to each other.

They eat. Grant has another beer, Gerard a spicy and amazing cup of coffee. Grant notes the time, but shows no regret at missing the night’s party. They linger over coffee and dessert for a long time, until Grant finally says, “Well, I am prepared to consider this bet more than satisfactorily settled. And… I think we should go back to the hotel now.”

The way he says it makes Gerard shiver. He takes a deep breath, nods, and gestures for the check. As he’s writing out the tip and signing his name on the credit card slip, Grant squeezes his thigh. He jumps. This isn’t the innocent hand-holding from before.

“Too much?” Grant asks quietly.

“Fuck, no,” Gerard says vehemently. “This is- I’ve been waiting for months.”

Grant smiles softly at him. “As have I. Let’s go.”

Gerard pulls out his phone and calls for a cab. As they wait near the entrance to the restaurant, Grant pulls Gerard into his arms.  

“Is this where you kiss me?” Gerard breathes.

“Is that all right?” Grant asks. Gerard sees him dart a look out into the night, the people walking past.

Gerard nods. “Well, I might explode if you don’t.”

Grant laughs softly. “In that case…” He cups Gerard’s cheek in his hand and leans down to kiss him softly. Gerard sighs and lets his eyes slip closed, reaching up to rest his hand on the back of Grant’s head. It starts slow and soft and Grant’s fingers slip under the hem of his shirt to stroke the skin of his back. Everything about it is gentle, but in a way that promises later won’t be.

Grant’s hand finds the small of Gerard’s back and rests there. Gerard gasps into Grant’s mouth. “Where’s that damn cab?” Gerard murmurs against Grant’s lips.

“Don’t much care,” Grant replies.

“I want to be touching you,” Gerard says. “The kind of touching I can’t do right here because of public indecency laws.”

Grant laughs. “I understand. Soon.”

“Months, Fox,” Gerard says. “Months.”

“I know. You aren’t the only one who’s been counting.” Grant pulls back and swipes his thumb against Gerard’s palm. “Did you think about me?”

“So much,” Gerard admits. “And not just… I wanted you to be where I was, you know?” Grant smiles and pulls him closer until their hips are together. Gerard gasps.

“I do know.”

The cab arrives. Gerard is about ready to kiss the driver, but he settles for curling against Grant instead. Grant wraps an arm around Gerard’s waist and presses a kiss to his temple. Gerard leans into him. The ride back to the hotel is both the longest and shortest of his life. “Schrödinger’s cab ride,” he mutters to himself.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” Grant laughs.

“Whatever,” Gerard huffs. “You know what I fucking mean, Mr. Quantum Mechanics.”

Grant smiles and kisses his cheek as they pull up in front of the hotel. “I know precisely what you mean.” He settles the cab fare then follows Gerard into the hotel and into the elevator.

Of course, because it’s Comic Con, there are already six people in the elevator. One man’s eyes go wide when he sees Grant, but he doesn’t approach them. Gerard can see the hints of a smile around the corners of Grant’s mouth, but they play it cool and just get off the elevator on Gerard’s floor.

Gerard is good; he only fumbles his key card once. And then they’re through the door, and it’s closed behind him, and that is fucking it. He pushes Grant against the wall and kisses him like he’s been wanting to, with tongue and teeth on his bottom lip and hands under his suit jacket.

Grant gasps and pulls him in, letting Gerard press against him, push a knee between his thighs. “Fuck,” Grant moans, hands coming up to cup Gerard’s ass.

Gerard rolls his hips against Grant’s and tugs his shirt out of his trousers. He kisses him hard, like he’s never going to stop. (He might never stop.) Grant tries to get Gerard’s jacket off of him but they’re both all fumbling hands, so eventually they pull apart. “Fuck,” Gerard gasps, panting into the hollow of Grant’s throat.

“My thoughts exactly,” Grant murmurs. “Gerard, let me undress you.”

“I get to return the favor,” Gerard says, firmly.

“Of course,” Grant replies.

Gerard reaches up to slide Grant’s suit jacket off his shoulders. “You always look so good in these,” he murmurs. “I always thought so.”

“Always?” Grant asks softly.

“I’ve been attracted to you since the first time I saw you,” Gerard says.

“When was that?” Grant asks, helping Gerard with his cuff links.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Gerard murmurs. “Long time. First time I saw you in person was while you were writing The Invisibles. I was an intern at DC and you came in wearing the full King Mob deal. It was fucking amazing,” Gerard explains.

Grant’s cheeks go pink. “That was so long ago.”

“Didn’t matter. Doesn’t. You’re fucking gorgeous, Grant.”

“I liked going into the offices feeling like I was king of the world,” Grant confesses with a smile. Gerard starts working on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m pretty sure you still are,” Gerard murmurs. He leans in to kiss Grant’s chest as it’s exposed.

“You make me feel like it,” Grant says softly.

Gerard lifts his face to smile at Grant. Grant puts his hands in Gerard’s hair and leans in to kiss him again. Less frantic this time, but soft and fucking intense. When he breaks it off, he tries again and this time Gerard stands docilely while Grant strips off his jacket and shirt. He makes a little involuntary noise when Grant continues on to his jeans.

“Soon, love,” Grant promises, slowly drawing down the zip. Grant pushes his jeans down his thighs and crouches down to take off his shoes and socks and pull his jeans the rest of the way off. He kisses Gerard’s thigh, and Gerard whimpers a bit and tugs at his shoulders.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Gerard murmurs.

Grant slides his hands over Gerard’s shoulders and down his chest. “You are so fucking beautiful,” Grant murmurs.

“I, I -”

“You know you are,” Grant adds softly. “You’re used to people looking at you.”

“Not when they’re you,” Gerard gasps.

“I intend to give you plenty of time to get used to it,” Grant promises.

Gerard smiles. He feels weirdly shy and he fucking knows he’s blushing. He takes a breath and tugs Grant back until they get to the bed. He sits and puts his hands to Grant’s button and zip. Finally.

Grant bends down to bite at Gerard’s ear, gently. Gerard gasps. He takes a breath and pulls Grant’s pants down. Grant toes his shoes off and steps out of them. He sits on the bed next to Gerard and peels off his socks. He’s completely unhurried about it all, and Gerard is so nervous he can feel his pulse in his throat.

“Hey,” Grant murmurs, tugging Gerard up towards the pillows. “Come here, love.” Gerard settles into his arms. His skin is warm and he’s looking at Gerard in a way that makes him swallow hard. “I’m nervous too,” Grant tells him. “I’d never even thought to imagine this.”

“I’m so fucking glad we’re here,” Gerard says, hiding the words in the skin of Grant’s throat. Grant strokes Gerard’s hair behind his ear and slides his hand down to cup his shoulder. Gerard presses his lips to the underside of Grant’s jaw.

Grant hums and slides his hand up and down Gerard’s arm, then pulls Gerard on top of himself. Their cocks line up, and both of them moan. Gerard wants their briefs off right the fuck now, but he doesn’t want to move. He settles for rolling his hips against Grant’s and sucking at the base of his neck, just below his collar line.

“You ought to make it higher,” Grant rumbles. “So I can walk around knowing everyone is wondering who’s been giving me lovebites.”

“Exhibitionist,” Gerard murmurs.

“Glass-” Grant begins, but Gerard bites him a little harder and he trails off on a moan. Gerard would smile if he weren’t so busy sucking a hickey into Grant’s neck. Well above the collar line. He can’t deny he likes the thought of people wondering who marked Grant like that.

Grant settles his hands onto Gerard’s ass and urges him to keep moving. Not that Gerard needs much in the way of urging.

They move together for a minute and then Gerard pulls himself away. He gets rid of his briefs and reaches for Grant’s. Grant lifts his hips and Gerard slides them down his legs. He can’t help fucking staring, once he gets them down. “Jesus fuck.”

Grant props himself up on his elbows and smirks. “Is this where I ask if you see something you like, love?”

Gerard laughs. “I see many things I like a whole fucking lot.”

“How would you like them?” Grant asks, oh so politely.

“Hmmm,” Gerard murmurs, ducking his head down to mouth along Grant’s chest.

Grant puts his hands in Gerard’s hair. “That’s not an answer, but I’ll take it.”

Gerard gets his lips wrapped around a nipple and sets out to make Grant moan. It doesn’t take long. Grant is gratifyingly vocal, and he twists his fingers lightly in Gerard’s hair to hold him where he is. Gerard keeps licking and sucking. Grant only gives him enough leeway to switch to his other nipple. Gerard is fine with that. He can feel Grant’s cock against his belly. He’s as hard as Gerard is, now. Fuck if Gerard isn’t drooling.

“Have you decided what you want, love?” Grant rasps.

“I wanna suck you,” Gerard replies immediately. He shoots a look up at Grant, who’s smiling. The fingers in Gerard’s hair tighten, then release.

“Whatever you like, love,” Grant says.

“I fucking like,” Gerard replies and moves down Grant’s body. He kisses Grant’s soft stomach and the jut of his hipbone, shifting to take the head of his cock in his mouth.

Grant gasps, head falling back against the pillows. Gerard feels really fucking smug for a moment before taking more of Grant into his mouth. He tastes good and he’s stretching Gerard’s lips just right. This is one thing Gerard knows he’s fucking good at. It’s more gratifying to do this for Grant than it usually is; Grant is gorgeous, flushed, fingertips catching on the sheets.

Gerard brings his hand up to wrap around the base of Grant’s cock. He shifts his hips against the mattress just for a little bit of friction. He could get off on this, easy. He goes down further, taking Grant in until his lips meet his fist.

“Fuck,” Grant moans. “Oh, fuck me, you’re really fucking good at this.”

Gerard presses his tongue against the base of Grant’s cock and squeezes his hip with his free hand. He drops down to mouth gently at his balls, too, then noses back up his shaft to lick along the underside, being deliberately teasing this time. He loves everything about this: the smell, the taste, the feeling of Grant underneath him.

Gerard takes Grant’s cock in his mouth again. This time, he goes down as far as he can, until he’s swallowing around the head of Grant’s cock. He still doesn’t have Grant all the way in. Clearly he’ll have to practice. Gerard is okay with practicing. Repeatedly. He moans quietly, happily, and starts to bob his head.

Grant keeps up a steady stream of encouragement, moaning and swearing and running his hands over Gerard’s hair. Gerard pulls off giggling hoarsely a few moments later. Grant gives him a look that’s half amused, half impatient. “Sorry,” Gerard gasps. “Just. In the comments of one of my interviews, someone asked, ‘Could he be sucking Morrison’s cock more?’”

“At the moment?” Grant drawls. “Yes. With an option on fucking now and getting back to the cocksucking later.”

Gerard licks his lips. “You wanna fuck me, Grant?”

“Fuck, yes. Get the fuck up here,” Grant growls. Gerard grins and takes his time about it, feeling wicked. He wraps his hand around Grant’s cock and strokes. He moves up slowly, kissing his belly, his scar, his chest. When he finally gets to Grant’s mouth, Grant’s eyes are practically black.

Gerard dips his head down to claim a kiss, light and teasing, biting at Grant’s lips until Grant growls again, fisting his hands in Gerard’s hair and pulling him down properly.

Gerard moans against his mouth. “Grant,” he gasps.

“Do you have condoms?” Grant asks.

“I…yes,” Gerard says, turning red. “I brought some.”

Grant chuckles against Gerard’s throat, voice husky when he says, “You were hoping for this, hm? I was, too. So fucking much.”

“I didn’t even know if we’d be attracted to each other or if we’d get along in person. But fuck, I hoped. So much,” Gerard replies.

“Do you date much?” Grant asks, running fingers through Gerard’s hair, rubbing gently at the shaved sides.

“Not for a while,” Gerard admits. His eyes slip shut at the feeling of Grant’s fingers carding through his hair, and he practically has to bite back a croon. Grant clearly notices, because he chuckles again. “For a long while,” Gerard adds. “Meeting people is complicated for me.”

“I understand,” Grant murmurs and leans in for a kiss. “Get me the stuff,” he whispers against Gerard’s lips.

“You’ll have to let me go first,” Gerard reminds him, teasingly.

“I suppose,” Grant replies and gives him another kiss before releasing him. Gerard gets up and grabs the stuff from his suitcase.

Gerard stretches out on his side next to Grant and balances the lube and a condom on Grant’s stomach.

“Oi,” Grant says, frowning down at him.

“What?” Gerard asks innocently.

“Some audience participation, if you please,” Grant replies. Gerard smiles and grabs the condom. He tears open the wrapper and leans up on his elbow to slowly roll it down Grant’s cock. The little noise Grant makes when he does it makes his stomach flip. Gerard grins and presses the lube into Grant’s hand. “Get me ready?”

Grant smiles back and leans down to kiss him. “It would be my pleasure.” He moves down the bed and settles between Gerard’s spread legs. He goes quickly, sinking one slick finger in to the second knuckle and thrusting it at an even pace.

Gerard moans. It feels fucking incredible; “Grant,” he pants.

Grant kisses the top of his thigh and slides a second finger in next to the first. It’s maybe a little fast, but Gerard wants Grant in him.

“Is this-” Grant begins, and Gerard gasps “yes” and rocks back against Grant’s fingers, just in case he’s getting any ideas about stopping or slowing down.

Grant wraps his free hand loosely around Gerard’s cock and crooks his fingers to drag over Gerard’s prostate as he thrusts them.

Gerard moans. “Fuckin’ - more.”

“Whatever you like,” Grant murmurs, and he teases at Gerard’s hole with a third finger. Gerard gasps and writhes, hands clenching in the sheets. “Impatient,” Grant chides, laughing softly as he slides the third finger in beside the first two.

“You have no fucking idea,” Gerard moans. “Fuck. Please.”

Grant moves fast, when he finally decides to move - withdrawing his fingers and pushing Gerard’s thighs apart, only pausing when the head of his cock is snugly pressed against Gerard’s ass.

“Now,” Gerard gasps, grabbing for Grant’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Grant’s other hand finds Gerard’s hip, and Gerard moans loud and long as Grant presses inside of him.

“Gerard,” Grant gasps in his ear. “Oh, fuck.” He sounds undone, but he keeps his hips steady and slow.

“Please, Fox,” Gerard whispers. He feels electric, needy, shaken, as undone as Grant sounds, but there’s one person who can give him what he needs.

Grant chants a low, steady stream of filth into Gerard’s ear, fucking into him over and over again. Gerard arches and writhes and gasps. He’s probably making too much noise, but fuck, he doesn’t give a shit, it feels too good. He wraps his arms around Grant, grips his shoulders instead of the sheets.

“My Danny,” Grant whispers in his ear.

“Yes,” Gerard moans. “Fuck, touch me.”

Grant doesn’t waste a second, hand sliding down from Gerard’s hip to wrap around his cock. Gerard moans and thrusts his hips up into Grant’s hands and then back against his cock.

“That’s it,” Grant rasps, “More. Again. Come for me.”

“Almost there,” Gerard tells him, eyes closing against the wave he can feel building in the pit of his belly. They keep moving. Gerard pulls Grant’s head down for a desperate kiss just as he starts to come. He moans into Grant’s mouth, fingers tightening, and Grant speeds up his thrusts, sloppy and desperate.

Gerard doesn’t have any more words; he just moans, over and over, riding the aftershocks of his own orgasm and panting against Grant’s lips. Grant thrusts hard one last time and comes, moans muffled against Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard chases his tongue, kisses him until neither of them can breathe, until Grant is slumped heavily over him.

“Darling,” Grant murmurs in his ear, tightening his arms around Gerard’s waist. Gerard swallows and tightens one arm around Grant and slides a hand up to cup the back of Grant’s head. His body is humming, spent. In awe of what just happened.

They lie together for long moments. Gerard takes a deep breath, and then another. He turns his head and presses his lips to Grant’s cheek. “God,” he mumbles.

“Not last time I checked,” Grant jokes.

Gerard huffs out a laugh against Grant’s shoulder. This is Fox in his arms. Grant. It’s blowing his mind a little bit.

“This would have to happen the busiest weekend of the year,” he sighs.

Grant is quiet for a moment. Then he says, a bit hesitantly, “I… had been thinking. About perhaps not returning immediately to Scotland, after the convention.”

“Wanna come back to Portland with me?” Gerard asks. “I bet you’d like it.”

“I’d love to. Want to come to LA with me first? Just to visit a few people I rarely see.”

“Definitely,” Gerard says, pressing a kiss to the nearest bit of Grant he can reach. “You get to tell Scott, though.”

Grant laughs. “I can do that. I feel like he won’t find me particularly intimidating, though. Unless you’re using me as a shield?”

“No, I just like to render him speechless as often as possible,” Gerard laughs, then gasps as Grant shifts and pulls out. He retreats to the bathroom and comes back in a moment with a damp washcloth.

Gerard hums, pleased at the attention, but it’s nothing compared to how good it feels when Grant climbs back into bed and wraps Gerard in his arms again. “I feel really fucking lucky right now,” Gerard tells him.

“So do I,” Grant replies.

Gerard grins, and Grant bends down to press a kiss against his lips, and they kiss and kiss until Gerard’s eyes are drooping closed. He falls asleep warm and comfortable, with Grant’s lips pressed against his cheek.

**

Grant wakes to the immensely irritating sound of his alarm and is groggily confused to find someone in bed with him. Having stolen all the covers, no less. He fumbles for the telephone and turns off the alarm. When he looks over at the pile of blankets at the other side of the bed, he finds a pair of sleep-bleary eyes blinking at him.

“You stole all the blankets,” Grant says. “I have a vision of my future and it includes a lot of me waking up freezing.”

Gerard makes a grumbly noise, but rolls toward Grant with his arm up, blankets in hand. Grant meets him in the middle and Gerard wraps the blankets over his shoulders and snuggles against his chest. “Sorry,” he breathes against Grant’s skin.

“I’m just pleased to wake up with you,” Grant tells him.

“Me fucking too,” Gerard says, smiling at him. Grant feels warm in a way that has very little to do with the blankets. Grant wraps his arms around Gerard and kisses his temple. He thinks waking up cold because Gerard has stolen the covers might be the best possible future. “What time is it anyway?” Gerard mutters.

“Earlier than either of us are given to rising,” Grant tells him. “But the press never sleep, it seems. I’ve an interview in an hour.”

“Ugh,” Gerard mutters.

“It was as late as I could book it, too,” Grant says with a sigh. “You can go back to sleep if you like.”

“No, I have to get to the convention center too.” Gerard stretches and drapes himself more fully over Grant.

Grant laughs. “This isn’t terribly conducive to me getting up, love.”

Gerard sighs heavily. “Ugh,” he repeats.

“I promise to make it up to you,” Grant murmurs.

“I like the sound of that,” Gerard tells his neck.

They lie there together for a few minutes more, just breathing. “It’s fucking weird not to be checking my phone right now,” Gerard laughs.

Grant laughs. “Did I tell you I bought a smartphone for you? I didn’t have a mobile at all until just before I went to London.”

“For me?” Gerard repeats.

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of missing any of your messages,” Grant confirms.

Gerard beams at him. “I was horrible. Scott threatened to confiscate my phone every time I was at Dark Horse for meetings, because he could always tell I was itching to check my texts.”

Grant laughs. “The lads in London gave me so much shit. Especially since they knew I didn’t have a mobile previously. Kristan, too.”

Gerard looks at him curiously for a moment, before comprehension dawns. “Your ex. The good one.”

He nods. “She used to handle everything that could possibly require a mobile. I resisted getting one myself for a very long time.” “What happened with her?”

Grant is quiet for a moment, thinking. “I…was too much of a workaholic for her, I think. When it came down to it. We had other problems, but if I’d been able to pull away from work more often, I think those other things would have been bearable for her,” Grant explains. “Sadly, not much has changed.” Grant frowns a bit.

“Hey,” Gerard says, wriggling so they’re face to face. “You talked to me pretty much all day every day for months,” Gerard reminds him. Grant smiles and kisses the tip of his nose. “You’re right,” he whispers. He has no idea what this thing that he and Gerard have been building together is going to become, but it already feels so fucking strong. Like maybe they’ll be able to sort it out, between the two of them. He leans up to kiss Gerard. He forces himself to keep it brief, but it’s difficult. “I’ve got to shower and dress and get moving.”

Gerard takes a deep breath, fingertips gentle against the back of Grant’s skull, pulling their foreheads together. “If we have any matching free time, we should meet in the VIP lounge,” Gerard suggests.

“I’ll text you whenever I do,” Grant promises, giving him a kiss he intends to be quick. Naturally, it doesn’t work out that way. Both of them groan when they finally pull apart. Grant forces himself to pull away and get out of bed. He wants to do anything but. He pulls on his clothes and checks his pockets to make sure he has everything. “Talk to you later,” he murmurs.

“Definitely,” Gerard says. He presses his finger to the mark he’d left on Grant’s neck the night before, grinning when Grant hisses a little bit. “Get out of here,” Gerard tells him. “Knock ’em dead at the interview.”

Grant smiles. “I shall do my best.” He heads back to his own room to change with a spring in his step. He needs a Red Bull and something to eat, but he feels shockingly good.

He has to laugh when he gets a glimpse of himself in the mirror in his own room. Gerard hadn’t been at all subtle. He’s not going to have time to shave, but that’s all right. Kissing Gerard was entirely more important. He showers quickly and dresses. Nice suit, stubbly face, that’s just what people get today. He’s going to get plenty of shit from the people who know him, and that’s fine. He’ll take it gladly, knowing what he’s getting in exchange.

And really, gloating to his friends about his hot young boyfriend is not outside the realm of possibility. Boyfriend. Fuck, that’s amazing. He grabs his phone and types out, Can’t stop fucking grinning.

It takes a minute for Gerard to respond. I’m gonna look like an idiot all day. I don’t even care.

Same, but. The idiot who has you has the last laugh, Grant replies.

He arrives at the interview green room with ten minutes to spare, and sends up a prayer of thanks to whatever gods watch over the comics industry that someone’s thought to provide energy drinks. He guzzles one down and cracks open another for sipping and sits where he’s meant to sit.

“You’re early,” the interviewer, an old friend, says when he arrives. “Kudos, Grant.”

Grant raises his energy drink in salute. He sits down and they start. Grant’s happy, so his answers tend to reflect his mood. He walks through everything he has going on right now - his comics, the documentary, writing his book - and the last question is, “What are you most looking forward to this weekend?”

Grant laughs. “Honestly? Spending time with friends.”

His friend’s eyes light on the hickey and he lifts an eyebrow. “Friends, eh?”

“Good friends. Amazing friends. It’s been too long.”

“Enjoy,” the interviewer concludes with a laugh.

“I shall,” Grant says, grinning privately to himself. They shake hands and Grant gets up. He checks his schedule. He has another interview soon and a meeting a little after that.

He has enough time to grab a breakfast sandwich and text Gerard. Suspect I smiled like an idiot for the whole of that little chat. Good thing it’s a print interview.

Haha. Had a breakfast meeting with Gabriel. He gave me so much fucking shit.

 I’ll be in the building at eleven.

Dammit, I’ve got an interview at eleven, Gerard replies.

Grant has to laugh. And I have a panel at noon. And a signing at two.

I’ll come to the end of your signing and bring coffee, Gerard offers.

Sounds perfect, Grant replies. I shall see you then. He tucks away his phone, grinning to himself. Because fuck, he will. He’s spent months wishing that he could meet Danny face to face, and now… now he gets Gerard.

He’s never fucking going to stop grinning about that. Not ever. Gerard is worth every giddy grin.

His second interview goes well–the interviewer is a sweet kid, clearly a bit starstruck and too worried about being professional to make any comments about Grant’s appearance. He gets a coffee before heading to his panel. It’s a fun time and there are lots of good questions in the Q&A portion.

Dan DiDio is waiting in the wings when he finishes. “Grant,” says Dan, holding out his hand. “Caught the end of your panel; good stuff. You’re getting them excited.”

Grant smiles and hopes Dan can’t tell how very little Grant wants to talk to him. “All in a day’s work,” he says.

“I’d like to steal you before your signing,” Dan says.

Grant winces internally; he’d been hoping to avoid such a fate. But he’s not stupid, so he says, “I have some time,” and allows Dan to lead him off. He thinks of Gerard who will be waiting for him later and squares his shoulders.

Trapped in meeting with boss, help, he texts.

Weirdly, now that I know you mean Dan DiDio, that’s even more terrifying, Gerard sends back.

Sigh. Grant replies and turns his attention to Dan. This would be so much easier with caffeine. Thankfully, he’s able to charm a runner outside the meeting room that Dan leads him to into bringing him a Red Bull.

The meeting isn’t as bad as Grant fears, but it’s still a meeting with Dan. Luckily he has a good excuse to escape, and signings are something he truly enjoys.

He always loses track of time during signings, so it’s a surprise when he looks up to see Gerard smiling softly at him, holding two Starbucks cups. Mehdi is standing, arms crossed, a couple of feet back. A few people seem to recognize that Gerard is someone, but most of the ten or so people left in his line don’t notice him.

He waves Gerard over, but Gerard shakes his head and stays back, going over to mutter something to Mehdi. The next person in line steps up, and Grant gets caught up in talking with her.

The last person in line is a sweet girl who talks about how much she loves Doom Patrol. She keeps glancing over Grant’s shoulder.

“Are you an MCR fan?” Grant asks her.

“I- yeah,” she admits, blushing a little.

“Oi,” Grant calls over his shoulder. “Get your arse over here.” Gerard grins at him, hands off the coffee to Mehdi, and walks toward them. “I think this young lady wants to say hello to you, love,” he says. “And she’s waited all this time -” he nods to the guy running his line, who moves the stanchions to close the queue, “so.”

“It’s fine,” Gerard says. “Hi.”

The young woman looks more than a little bit starstruck. “Hi,” she replies shyly. Gerard sticks out his hand to shake hers. She glances between him and Grant. “I. Um. I read Doom Patrol because you said in an interview a few years ago that it was a big influence.” Gerard grins and Grant knows his face looks similar.

“Look at you, getting me new readers before we ever met.”

“Which you deserve,” Gerard replies. “It’s great to meet you. Did you -”

She blushes and rummages in her bag. “I didn’t get a ticket for your signing. Maybe you can sign this?” She flips open a sketch book to a page of characters Grant recognizes from Umbrella Academy.

Gerard’s face lights up. “Fuck, these are awesome!  Did you do these?” Her blush deepens and she nods. “Damn, they’re amazing,” Gerard gushes. They are, Grant thinks. He’s fairly certain Gerard would be genuinely enthusiastic no matter what, though.

Gerard scrawls a little note and his signature, giving the girl an encouraging smile. She squeaks her thanks and lets a staffer escort her out of the booth. Grant turns to Gerard. “Well, then.” Mehdi walks over with the promised coffee, which Grant accepts gratefully.

“So, how long do we have?” Gerard asks and bites his lip. Grant takes a sip of coffee, pulls his phone out of his pocket, and opens the calendar app.

“Hour and a half?” Grant hazards.

“I’ll take it,” Gerard announces.

Grant grins at him. “Have you eaten anything? We could have lunch somewhere.”

“Yes, that’s…perfect.” Gerard beams at him like he’s the best thing in the world, and Grant feels a great deal of sympathy for the girl from before. He’s feeling a bit starstruck, himself. He only just stops himself from taking Gerard’s hand right there in the middle of the DC booth.

“Let’s go, then. Tacos again?” he asks with a wink.  

“We are in SoCal,” Gerard comments. “Mehdi?”

“I’ll let you two have your alone time,” Mehdi says, dryly.

Gerard rolls his eyes. “So basically your answer is, ‘Take a fucking cab and text me on your way back?’”

“Also, don’t fall in the harbor,” Mehdi says. “Does that cover it?” He leads them to the cab stand. Before he tucks them away in one of the waiting cabs, Gerard hugs him, and he laughs and pats Gerard on the shoulder. “I love you too, Way. Remember what I said about the harbor.”

“I’ll keep him from the water,” Grant promises with a grin.

Gerard’s hand finds his as soon as the cab starts moving. “Kidnapped by the boss, huh?” Gerard asks, a grin in his voice.

“Yes,” Grant replies with a sigh. “It wasn’t actually bad. Partly because he just wanted to re-hash some things I already knew.”

“How exciting.” Gerard runs a hand through his hair. “Am I glad I never followed through with my Batman pitch?”

“Batman pitch?” Grant asks, curiously. Gerard blushes a little, and that’s their conversation for the rest of the cab ride sorted out.

“I want to fucking see everything you’ve got,” Grant says.

“When we get to Portland,” Gerard promises.

“I’ll remember,” Grant tells him.

Grant has to kiss him, then, though he keeps it light in deference to their cab driver. He squeezes Gerard’s hand as he pulls away. He can’t remember a time he felt this happy. Happy down in his bones. Happy to steal this ninety minutes out of a busy day.

They find yet another Mexican restaurant. “Do you have dinner plans?” Gerard asks, as they look over the menus. “A bunch of friends are getting together, if you want to join.”

“I’d like that,” Grant replies with a smile. He wants to meet all of Gerard’s friends. “And I have another party invite after, if you -”

“I think I’d probably enjoy it, as long as you’d be there,” Gerard says, thoughtfully. “And… as long as we didn’t have to stay too long.” The look he gives Grant over the top of his menu sends a flare of heat straight to Grant’s belly.

“I’ll be there and we can leave early,” Grant tells him. He even manages to keep his voice steady.

“Deal, then,” Gerard says with a grin.

Really, it’s probably for the best that they only have a limited amount of time for lunch. If Grant had his way, he’d be taking Gerard straight back to one of their rooms.

Grant busies himself with the chips and salsa for a moment to distract himself from his thoughts. Then Gerard nudges his foot under the table. “Your face right now…”

Grant grins ruefully. “Can you blame me, love?”

Gerard giggles his slightly croaky smoker’s giggle. “Not really.”

“Tease,” Grant says.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Gerard says, voice pitched low. “I promise I’m good for it.”

Grant swallows. “Thank the gods for that.”

“I still think I am the lucky one,” Gerard adds.

“I think we can share the title,” Grant says, reaching across the table to lace their fingers together. Gerard smiles at him and it takes Grant’s breath away. The moment is interrupted by their waiter, but that’s probably a good thing.

They get to talking about electronic music over lunch, which is sufficiently distracting. All too soon, it’s time to start heading back. Gerard calls a cab as Grant takes care of the bill.

As they ride back, Gerard leans against his side. “I’m glad we could do this. It’s like a little island of sanity in the middle of everything.”

“You’ve always been that to me,” Grant tells him. “Since that first day, on the message board. My light in the darkness.” Grant laughs a little, remembering. He tightens his arm around Gerard’s shoulder and kisses his temple.

“I’m glad,” Gerard says. “You’ve helped me too. So fucking much.” He tips his head against Grant’s shoulder. Grant lets his eyes close, just for a moment. Just to savor this feeling.

*

Gerard meets him in the lobby for the party looking every inch the rock star he is, from the leather jacket right down to the combat-style boots. Grant is no stranger to tight jeans, but Gerard puts him to shame. And is clearly enjoying Grant’s once-over.

“Ready?” asks Gerard, grinning and bouncing on his toes. Against the all-black background of his clothing, his hair stands out even more.

Grant laughs and takes Gerard’s hand. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

Dinner with Gerard’s friends had been pleasant. Low-key after a long day. Gerard hadn’t been at all subtle about their relationship, this time, and they’d received their share of good-natured teasing. Grant enjoyed every moment, if he’s being honest. He had Gerard, after all. And he’s going to enjoy showing up to this party with Gerard on his arm as well, even though the gossipmongers will be out in force. He doesn’t much care what the internet thinks about this. Gerard clearly doesn’t either, which is gratifying, even if Gerard refuses to believe he’s a bigger celebrity than Grant will ever be.

There’s actually a red carpet at this one, which Grant finds hilarious since he’s still unshaven and sporting a massive hickey. As they approach, he can feel the shift in the way Gerard is carrying himself. His shoulders move back, his chin lifts. There’s an air of defiance about him. It’s still his Gerard, just…amplified.

It’s really fascinating. Grant regrets never seeing him perform live.

Grant leans over to press his lips against Gerard’s ear. “After this, I’m going to take you back to my hotel room and suck you off until you beg.”

He can hear Gerard swallow. Gerard’s stride transforms into a cocky swagger after that. Grant watches him pose for the obligatory photo op with appreciation. Tonight is going to be an exercise in patience. He’s grateful he already promised Gerard they could leave early.

Gerard is watching him back with a very similar look on his face. It’s almost a relief when he hears, “Grant! Oh, and Gerard, too!” and turns to see Phil and Jim waving them over.

Grant grins. He always loves seeing Phil. The look Phil gives him when he spots his and Gerard’s linked hands is pretty great too.

“Look at you,” Phil murmurs. Grant squeezes Gerard’s hand and grins. “I’m not crazy thinking this is pretty new, right?” Phil asks.

“This is the first time we’ve met in person,” Grant says, quirking an eyebrow at Gerard, “but we’ve been friends for a while.”

Jim looks confused. “I thought– last night, you said you hadn’t met him before. You were so embarrassed!” he says, pointing an accusing finger at Gerard.

Gerard grins. “We hadn’t. We, uh, just found out it was each other we’d been talking to this whole time. It’s pretty wild.”

“Oh my god,” Phil says. “That is fucking adorable.”

“Not a word, Philip,” Grant says. “Or you, Lee.”

“Technically, I’m your boss, you know,” Jim points out.

Grant scowls, but he’s having a hard time summoning up very much irritation. Gerard is laughing in Grant’s ear, tucked against his side like the spot was made for him. Phil just grins at him. “I’m happy for you, Grant. You deserve it.”

“So does Mr. Rockstar,” Jim adds with a smile. Gerard huffs, but he’s clearly pleased.

Jim wanders off and Phil sidles up closer. “No, but seriously. Tell me how this happened.”

Grant laughs. “Like Gerard said.”

Phil gapes at them, and Gerard laughs again, hiding his giggles in Grant’s shoulder. “We are never going to live this down,” he says.

“Seriously, it was…we met in a comics forum because I was in an awful mood and wanted somewhere to direct my anger,” Grant explains. He has a feeling he’ll be explaining this a lot as time goes on. Phil shakes his head and tsks. “I know! And Gerard being brilliant saved me from looking like an arse - more like an arse - and he’s been brilliant ever since.”

“And Grant was fucking smart, and he got into arguments with me about Britpop at three in the morning,” Gerard picks up.

Phil grins. “His three or your three?” They all laugh.

“Both, sometimes,” Gerard replies. “Grant thinks it was fate,” he adds matter-of-factly.

“He would,” Phil replies, eyes twinkling. Grant just inclines his head, because, well. Fate might not be exactly the right word, but it’ll do. And anyway, he’s pretty sure Gerard agrees, so that’ll do too.

“What else? Tell me all the dirt,” Phil says.

“No dirt,” Grant insists.

“None,” Gerard agrees, his best angelic expression firmly in place. Phil raises an eyebrow, like he doesn’t believe them for a second.

He doesn’t have to look at Gerard to know he has a smirk on his face.

“Fine, you two can be the mystery power couple,” Phil sighs.

They get into a discussion about the con, and eventually a few other people Grant knows join up with them. It’s a good party; Grant is enjoying himself. The last party he’d attended had been Warren’s, and he’d desperately wanted Gerard to be with him. Now Gerard is and it’s exactly as wonderful as Grant expected it would be.

At ten o’clock, Grant’s phone tinkles with its annoying little alarm. Grant looks at Gerard. “Is this your doing, love?” Gerard grins at him slyly. It’s one of the most appealing things that Grant has ever seen. “Time to make our excuses, then,” he murmurs.

It’s easy enough to escape; everyone is either drunk or tired or both. This time, there’s no one in the elevator. Gerard doesn’t waste any time; he pins Grant to the wall and kisses the fuck out of him.

Grant wraps his arms around Gerard’s shoulders and kisses him back.

“You should be illegal, with the suits and the hands and the accent and the jokes,” Gerard pants against his lips.

“You should talk,” Grant growls. “Your fucking jacket, your fucking hair, your fucking hips, I could hardly fucking take my eyes off of you.”

Gerard smirks. “That was the point.”

The elevator dings and Grant steers him out the door, hands tight on his fucking hips. He leads them down the hallway and to the door to his room. He has to let go of Gerard to fumble for his key card. It takes three tries to get the door open. When they get in and the door closes behind them, Grant presses Gerard back against the door.

“This is so much better,” he murmurs against Gerard’s neck.

“Grant,” Gerard gasps. He tilts his head up, so Grant has more skin to work with.

Grant slides his hands under Gerard’s shirt and sucks just under his jaw. “Did you spend the day thinking about this? I did,” he says.

“Fuck, yes,” Gerard pants.

Grant sucks a little harder, just to hear the breathy little moans that Gerard can’t quite bite back. He moves one hand to the warm skin on the small of Gerard’s back and one up into his hair. “I don’t know if I have the patience to get us to the bed,” Grant admits.

“Fine by me.” Gerard curves a hand around the back of Grant’s skull and pulls him in for another kiss.

Grant blindly reaches for the button of his jeans and manages to get them undone. He reaches into Gerard’s fly immediately, finding tight cotton and the hot ridge of Gerard’s cock.

Gerard gasps into his mouth. “You gonna- ah- you gonna make good on your big promises, Fox? Gonna suck me?”

“Absolutely,” Grant replies with a smile and sinks to his knees at Gerard’s feet. Gerard’s fingers are hot and gentle on his head. Grant bends down and mouths at the shape of Gerard’s cock through his briefs.

“Fuck,” Gerard whispers. Grant tugs Gerard’s briefs down and pulls his cock out. He looks up. Gerard’s watching him with an expression of astonishment and hunger together. Grant wraps his hand around the base and slides his tongue over the head. “Fuck,” Gerard moans, low, filthy, sliding down Grant’s spine. “Oh fuck.”

Grant would answer if he could. But Gerard has voice enough for both of them.

He laves his tongue up and down all around Gerard’s cock and strokes the shaft a few times as he sucks on the head. Gerard is gratifyingly forward about telling Grant what he wants, and Grant is more than happy to comply. He’s good at following direction, even if he’s normally the one scripting.

Gerard wants more of his mouth and Grant gives it to him, taking his hand away and sinking further down, until the head of Gerard’s cock nudges the back of his throat. Grant feels Gerard’s hips twitch, and he can feel Gerard trembling, holding himself back. He rubs with his thumbs along the cut of Gerard’s hips. He looks up at Gerard and starts moving his mouth back and forth, pulling Gerard’s hips toward him every time until Gerard gets the idea and starts thrusting.  

“Oh my fucking fuck,” Gerard moans.

Grant keeps rubbing his hipbones and lets his mouth go soft. Gerard finally lets go completely and starts fucking his mouth. Grant moans around him.

Even now, though, Gerard hasn’t lost his words. He’s panting, swearing, murmuring praise and instruction and nonsense alike. Through it all, he keeps his fingers gentle on the curve of Grant’s skull. It’s the sweetest fucking thing Grant has ever felt. He’s slumped back against the door, barely holding himself up. Grant closes his eyes, focuses on his lips and tongue, on the noises Gerard is making. On the way Gerard is gasping his name like it’s a fucking prayer. He tastes and feels like he’s close, so close.

Grant keeps sucking, keeps swallowing around Gerard’s cock. He moans again.

“Please, please, please,” Gerard gasps. “Just- I’m so fucking close- Grant, please, fuck-”

Grant leans as close as he can, tugs and strokes the skin behind his bollocks. Gerard shudders and moans loud. His hips stutter and he starts to come. Grant pulls off just far enough to swallow, letting Gerard completely overwhelm his senses.

He leans his forehead against Gerard’s stomach. Gerard’s fingers gently slide to his cheek and he tips Grant’s face up. The expression on Gerard’s face… if Grant’s breath wasn’t already coming in quick gasps, that expression would do it. Its a dangerous business being someone’s idol. But this is more than that. For them both.

They’re friends. Amazing fucking friends, first and foremost. He turns his head to kiss Gerard’s palm.

“Grant,” Gerard murmurs, softly. “Come up here.”

“You might need to give me a hand up,” Grant laughs softly.

Gerard smiles and holds out his hands. Grant puts his in Gerard’s and stands with a bit of assistance from Gerard, who tugs Grant into his arms.

Grant tips their foreheads together. “How are you so fucking perfect?” he asks.

“You ought to turn that question on yourself,” Gerard tells him breathlessly. Grant smiles and kisses him. Gerard wraps a hand around the back of his neck. “What can I do for you?” he whispers.

“I think I want those clever hands of yours,” Grant tells him.

“Do you want the bed first?” Gerard asks.

Grant laughs. “Probably best for my old knees.”

Gerard huffs at him, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you, old.”

“Sufficiently,” Grant answers.

“Whatever,” Gerard says. Grant laughs, kisses him, and then starts shedding clothing. Gerard follows suit, shrugging off his jacket and bending down to kick off his boots. Grant finds himself distracted enough by the sight that he pauses in the middle of unfastening a cuff link.

“No, go on,” he murmurs when Gerard notices.

Gerard smiles and keeps going, pulling his shirt over his head and moves to get rid of his jeans completely. He has to shimmy a little to get them down his thighs, even after several hours of wear. Grant wants to lick the red marks on his belly and thighs.

He’s fucking gorgeous, flushed and radiant. Grant wants to get him on the bed and then never let him leave it. And he’s staring at Grant, looking challenging and making a little hurry-up gesture. Grant smirks and continues taking off his shirt, then his trousers. He gets rid of his shoes and then he’s standing in front of Gerard in just his briefs, his hard cock an obvious shape against the cotton.

“Enough?” he asks.

“Just about,” Gerard says, gesturing him to the bed. Gerard is close behind him and rubs a hand over the front of his briefs. Grant moans. Gerard tugs the elastic down over his cock. He hums appreciatively, wrapping his fingers around Grant’s cock and giving it a few leisurely strokes.

“Impatient,” Grant manages, though fuck, it feels good.

“You’ve been very patient, I think,” Gerard tells him. Grant moans and Gerard rubs his thumb over the head of Grant’s cock and kisses his shoulder. “Bed,” he murmurs. “C’mon. Gonna put my hands all over you, baby.”

“So glad you can,” Grant tells him, shoving his briefs off and tossing the covers to the foot. Gerard crawls onto the bed after him and leans in to kiss him as he wraps his hand around Grant’s cock again.

Grant tangles one hand in Gerard’s ridiculous hair and kisses back. He closes his eyes and arches into Gerard’s hand. He loves the feel. Loves that Gerard keeps his hand firm, even if he’s going torturously slow. Loves the way Gerard kisses him like Grant is the only thing there is.

Gerard is the best thing there is. This he knows.

Gerard kisses down his neck, sucks the mark he made, and then down Grant’s chest to suck on his nipple. Grant hums, arching up into Gerard’s mouth. His eyelids are heavy, his skin humming. Gerard keeps stroking his cock. He’s speeding up by increments and Grant is torn between begging him to speed up more and not wanting it to end.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, all spread out for me like this,” Gerard murmurs. “Everybody gets to see you in those perfect fucking suits, but I get you like this. I’m the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.”

“Are you?” Grant murmurs, running his fingers through Gerard’s hair.

“Yeah, I fucking am,” Gerard replies. “So fucking lucky.”

Grant bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed against the look in Gerard’s eyes, trying to to hold out a little while longer against the feeling gathering in the pit of his belly. He’s breathing hard, and Gerard kisses lightly along his shoulder.

“Gerard,” he breathes. “Oh fuck.” He thrusts up into Gerard’s head.

“That’s it,” Gerard murmurs, scraping his teeth against the hollow of Grant’s throat. “C’mon. Come for me.”

Grant rasps in a breath and calls Gerard’s name. He comes with a final thrust into Gerard’s hand. Gerard kisses him, and keeps on jacking him until Grant is completely spent.

Grant lets himself slump into the mattress and kisses back. He can hardly breathe but he doesn’t want to stop kissing Gerard.

“You are- the very best thing,” Gerard murmurs, between kisses. He’s breathless, too. He’s so beautiful. Grant slides his fingers into Gerard’s hair and pulls his forehead to Grant’s.

“Gerard,” Grant breathes. There are a hundred things he wants to say, but his ability to form words is… somewhere else, at the moment. So he just says, “Gerard,” again, hoping that his voice conveys what he means.

Gerard curls up against him and kisses his cheek. They lie there together for a long while. Grant thinks he could probably spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

“Danny,” he says contentedly.

“Fox,” Gerard returns, a smile in his eyes. His lips twitch, and finally he can’t quite hold back any longer and starts giggling.

“What?” Grant asks, when Gerard buries his laughter in Grant’s chest. Grant smiles at the top of Gerard’s head and strokes his shoulders as he laughs. Finally Gerard sighs and kisses Grant’s sternum.

“Just,” he manages, “I can’t fucking believe this, you know? That- that I met you on a fucking message board. You should be a serial killer.”

He smiles and slides his hand up to cup Gerard’s cheek. “And you should be sixteen with spots. And yet here we are in this magical world where neither of those things is true.”

“I like it here,” Gerard says with a contented grin.

“So do I,” Grant agrees, leaning in to kiss Gerard again. They trade sweet, sleepy kisses until Grant can feel himself falling asleep. “We should clean up a bit,” he murmurs.

Gerard murmurs assent and rolls out of bed. He takes care of them both quickly and insinuates himself back into Grant’s arms. Grant doesn’t resist for a moment. Tomorrow is another ridiculously busy day at Comic Con. There will be interviews, and meetings, and one last panel– a signing, and plenty of chances to talk with people who’ve connected with his work. Connecting with old friends. The Eisners. And he’s looking forward to it all, despite the fact that a large part of him would rather stay right here in this bed with Gerard all day.  

They’ll have time for that later, he supposes. There will be LA and then Portland after that. Then who knows where the winds will take them.

He’s already hoping it will be somewhere together. Maybe it’s a bit mad, but then, nothing about this whole thing has been anything else. It’s worked out anyway. Grant has a good feeling that the rest is going to sort itself out.

He’s looking forward to seeing exactly how it does sort itself out.

**

 Six Months Later

“Wake up, love,” Gerard hears, then a kiss lands just below his ear. Gerard hums in appreciation, but doesn’t open his eyes just yet.

A moment later, he hears Grant’s soft laugh. He runs a hand over Gerard’s chest and tangles their legs together. Gerard smiles and turns his face back for a kiss, but he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Are we doing the thing where you think you can ignore that it’s morning if you don’t open your eyes?” Grant murmurs in his ear.

“Are we doing the thing where you’re a freakish morning person?” Gerard mumbles, reaching up to cup Grant’s cheek.

“Time zones, love,” Grant says; the same excuse he’s been using since he arrived back in Portland three days ago.

“Whatever,” Gerard mutters and turns in Grant’s arms. Grant cups his cheeks and leans in to kiss him.

“I missed you so much,” Grant tells him.

“Missed you more.” Gerard finally opens his eyes. “There you are.” Grant kisses him again, soft and sweet. Gerard sinks into it, wrapping an arm over Grant’s waist. “It was lonely,” he says eventually. “And wet. And I ate my body weight in donuts.”

Grant laughs into the skin of his throat. “Scotland was just as lonely. And, I think, equally wet, and I had no donuts to comfort me. Next time I go back, you’re coming with me. I’m kidnapping you if I must. Scott will have to understand.”

Gerard smiles. “I think Scott mostly wants to make sure I’m being looked after by someone.”

“I will always volunteer,” Grant says, nuzzling him.

“I like the sound of that,” Gerard replies, grinning. He pulls Grant in for another series of slow, warm kisses.

Grant kisses back happily, slides his hands down to cup Gerard’s bare ass. Gerard wriggles closer and their hips press together. Grant was fucking delighted when he moved in to find out how often Gerard sleeps naked. It works out pretty well for both of them, though. “Good morning, Mister Morrison,” Gerard says, laughing into Grant’s mouth and thrusting against his thigh. Grant laughs too, rolls Gerard over onto his back, and slides on top of him. Gerard wraps his arms around Grant’s neck. “When are you going to be sick of waking me up to have your way with me?” Gerard asks him.

“Never,” Grant says, licking a long stripe up Gerard’s chest. “Never, never.”

“Works for me,” Gerard gasps. He rolls his hips up against Grant’s and kisses his neck. Grant hums and tips his chin up. He’s stubbly - they’ve had much better things to do than shave the past three days. Gerard fucking loves the feel of it. He fucking loves Grant.

Grant puts his hands into Gerard’s hair and kisses him briefly, then pulls back to look in his eyes. Gerard takes the time to look back. Just look. Dark eyes, the curves of his skull, the little scar on his cheek. There have been a lot of times, these last six months, that Gerard has been sideswiped all over again by how fucking lucky he is. This is one of them.

“Grant.”

“Yes, love?” Grant murmurs and leans in to kiss him again.

“Nothing, I just - love you. And all that sappy shit.” He closes his eyes as Grant strokes his hair.

“I love you, too,” Grant tells him. His fingers scratch lightly at Gerard’s scalp, and he pushes into the touch like a cat. Fuck, Gerard is glad Grant is back. For a lot of reasons, but the fact that he’s here to touch Gerard like this is a fucking massive plus. “We have brunch with Scott at eleven,” Gerard murmurs. “What do you want to do until then?”

“Hmmm,” Grant rumbles, kissing Gerard’s chest. “I think… I think I want to fuck you again.”

Gerard stretches and smiles. “I could be convinced.”

“Always putting me to work,” Grant sighs, kissing across and up to Gerard’s collarbone. Gerard cups his hand around the back of Grant’s skull and arches up hopefully; Grant laughs and obligingly closes his mouth around one of Gerard’s nipples.

Gerard moans and hooks his ankles over Grant’s legs. Grant moves his hips against Gerard’s.

“How do you want it?” Grant asks him. “Anything you want.”

It’s not a difficult decision, really; Gerard fucking loves lazy morning sex. So he tugs at Grant and rearranges them until they’re on their sides, with Grant spooned up against his back. Grant reaches for the lube and strokes a hand down Gerard’s side. He slicks himself up and rubs his fingers over Gerard’s hole.

“Do you need anything, love?”

“No,” Gerard moans. “Just you.”

“That you can have,” Grant tells him, lining up and pressing in with one slow slide. Gerard sighs in pleasure, moving his hips a little so Grant can slide deeper. Grant presses his hand to the center of Gerard’s chest and Gerard covers Grant’s hand with his.

“Gorgeous,” Grant tells him. He keeps his thrusts short, pulling out and then pushing back in again in a slow, steady rhythm. Gerard moans, because he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get over how fucking good Grant is at this.

Grant’s lips slide against the back of his neck. “So fucking good,” Gerard moans.

“Missed this,” Grant tells him, rocking his hips. He’s so warm against Gerard’s back.

“Missed you,” Gerard gasps. Grant shifts, and it changes the angle of his thrusts just enough to send sparks up Gerard’s spine.

Gerard moans Grant’s name. Grant slides his hand down to Gerard’s hip and grips it tight. Gerard feels constantly smug that he’s the one who gets the benefits of Grant’s fucking incredible cock.

“Good, love?” Grant murmurs, kissing the skin behind Gerard’s ear. “What else do you need? What can I give you?”

“Always good,” Gerard replies. “Just keep going exactly like you are. I’ll…” He trails off and reaches down to take hold of his cock.

Grant makes a little disappointed noise, followed by a gasp as Gerard rolls his hips back hard.

“I’m sure you can- ah- think of other places to touch me,” Gerard teases, breathlessly.

He runs his hand over Gerard’s chest, twists his nipple, then moves it down to Gerard’s hip. All the while he keeps rocking in that same infuriating rhythm.

“I fucking love you,” Gerard says, twisting back to kiss whatever bit of Grant he can reach.

“Love you too,” Grant gasps. “So much.” He kisses back and starts thrusting harder.

Gerard groans and starts jacking himself faster. He can feel his orgasm building, barreling towards him. He squeezes his eyes and lets it wash over him.

Grant moans in his ear and keeps thrusting into him. His fingers dig hard into Gerard’s hip. His lips fasten on the side of Gerard’s neck.

“Grant,” Gerard manages. Now that he’s come, every thrust is sending little sparks of almost-too-much up his spine. “C’mon, c’mon.”

Grant moans again and Gerard feels him come. He grabs Grant’s hand and holds it tight. “Fuck,” he mutters several times against Gerard’s ear.

“Mmmmmm,” Gerard agrees, twisting to find Grant’s lips so he can kiss him. Their fingers lace together and Gerard smiles against Grant’s lips. He fucking loves waking up like this.

Grant pulls out and leans over Gerard, pushes Gerard’s hair out of his face. “Stay here and I’ll go get us coffees.”

“I love you,” Gerard tells him, leaning up for one more kiss before settling happily back against the sheets. He smiles broadly up at his ceiling, then looks at the clock and laughs. Eight fucking AM. “It had better be a big cup of coffee, Mr. Jet Lag,” he calls out to the kitchen.

Grant’s laughter is his only response.

Gerard doesn’t have to wait long for Grant to come back with two huge, steaming mugs of coffee. “At your service, love,” he says, presenting one. Gerard takes it gratefully and sips while Grant slides back beneath the covers, pressing up against Gerard’s side and kissing his temple.

He almost missed this part more than the sex. Missed the coziness, the love. They way they can just be together.

“Sorry it’s so early,” Grant says ruefully.

“S’okay,” Gerard promises, leaning his head against Grant’s shoulder. “I’ll get you back on Portland time soon enough.”

“Very likely. And you have to admit, eight is a rather substantial improvement on five,” Grant says.

“I like to think it’s just because I wore you out last night,” Gerard says matter-of-factly.

“That may have had something to do with it,” Grant allows.

Gerard grins smugly into his coffee. “Good. I worked really fucking hard at it.”

“I could tell,” Grant says, kissing Gerard’s temple.

Since it’s still three hours before they’re set to meet Scott, they linger in bed for a long while. Gerard enjoys every moment. They trade kisses and talk about anything that pops to mind. They still talk all day when they’re apart, but being face to face is so much better.

In a lot of cases, it’s the same conversations they started having over a year ago as Danny and Fox. They just keep thinking of more things to say. And when he calls Grant, Fox, he gets one of Gerard’s very favorite smiles. They’re all favorites, though.

And now he has Grant in his apartment, in his bed. Grant’s spent four out of the past six months in Portland, and they’re working on figuring out the best way for Gerard to come and live with Grant in Scotland for part of the year. Sure, it’s difficult sometimes, because they’re both workaholics who can get lost in their own heads a little too easily. But in spite of that, Gerard is so happy he sometimes feels like he’s going to explode.

“I love you,” he murmurs against Grant’s newly smooth cheek as they get ready to leave for brunch. Grant turns his head and they share a minty kiss. Gerard plucks the keys to his Mini off the hall table and ignores Grant’s fondly mocking look. “Can’t keep Scott waiting, let’s go.”

There’s a line for brunch, because there’s always a line for brunch, but since moving to Portland Gerard has learned to appreciate this as a feature, rather than a bug. He just hunches down in his jacket and leans against Grant, who wraps an arm around him as they talk to Scott. Grant plays with his hair - freshly dyed neon red but not really getting him any more double-takes than anyone else in the crowd - and Gerard practically purrs.

They talk a bit about Killjoys, which is doing better than any of them had ever expected that it would. Shaun and Gerard are already talking about plans for a second series. Scott and Grant have been throwing around ideas for a series with Dark Horse. Gerard loves listening to them.

Scott smiles at them both when they finally get to a table. “You two,” he shakes his head.

“What?” Gerard asks, trying for innocence. He’s not trying particularly hard, though. Scott rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on,” Gerard says. “Like you and Elisabeth are any better.”

“Elisabeth knows how to bake,” Grant says thoughtfully.

“Morrison makes an excellent point,” Scott declares. “Anyway, it’s not like I’m complaining, Gee. It’s good to see you stupidly happy.”

Gerard beams at him. “It’s pretty great, I have to admit.”

Grant clinks their coffee mugs together. “The greatest.”

“And the message boards haven’t rioted?” Scott asks, with his own attempt at an innocent look.

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Technically, I’m still a mod. I do try to do my duty every once in a while. No rioting seen yet.”

“What about the other boards?”

Gerard knows he means the music boards, but he just shakes his head. “I don’t read those.” They haven’t tried to keep their relationship a secret, but for the most part, the kids have been really sweet about it. And the ones who haven’t, well. He doesn’t give them the time of day. They’re good for a laugh on the phone with Frank sometimes, though. Gerard laughs more than Frank. Frank is a little too fierce on Gerard’s behalf to find it that funny. It’s sweet.

“Earth to Gerard,” Scott teases, tapping Gerard’s water glass with his spoon.

Gerard grins and takes a sip of his water. “Gerard reporting in.”

“Repeat after me: I will stop mooning over my boyfriend and pay attention to my boss.”

Gerard laughs and takes Grant’s hand under the table. “Not a chance.” Grant tangles their fingers together and squeezes, giving Gerard a gorgeous smile. Gerard can’t help but smile back.

“Well, at least I’m not trying to compete with your fucking iPhone anymore,” Scott says philosophically.

Both Grant and Gerard burst out laughing and just then, the waiter brings their food.

“Nope, I’ve got something better in my pocket now,” Gerard jokes. Scott makes a face at his omelette. Grant leans in for a kiss right there at the table.

After they’ve cleaned their plates, Grant excuses himself to go to the restroom. Gerard and Scott continue their conversation about Hellboy, but a minute later, Gerard’s phone buzzes. It’s a text message from a number that’s still programmed in under “Fox”.

 There’s a new print outside the bathroom you’ll like. Also, I love you and if we hadn’t promised to treat Scott to lunch, I’d have you come back here and I’d blow you.

Gerard smiles at Scott and taps back, Write down the artist’s name, and I’ll get the check. We can be home in fifteen minutes.

I like the sound of that, Grant texts back.

Gerard laughs and tucks his phone away in his pocket, grinning when Scott rolls his eyes. Fuck yeah. He likes the sound of that, too.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Good News, One Less Worry To Worry About

just heard that the thing I can’t name on here at the moment, that I have been worrying about for a few days, doesn’t seem to be a problem now

and I know I said that I would post the drawing I had talked about that was inspired by someone who didn’t understand the way they used “may god have mercy on you” was hurting my feelings and making me feel bad.

but I think I will wait in a few days to post it up on here

and maybe I can try to ignore the subject that got me peeved off a few hours ago before, and besides that there was something that I had been worrying about for a few days but it seems after getting some good news

there is no need to worry, but I am still going to hope it stays that way

I’m not sure if my Semi-Misanthrope will go away

but at least I know there is still good humans in this world

like my friends, family and other people that make me not go full on Misanthrope.

and if you think about it, Chara from Undertale

described as someone who hates humanity

they would technically be a Misanthrope

I mean I wouldn’t of got curious on what that word “Misanthrope” means

if I hadn’t heard it in a episode of Harley Quinn

again NOT for kids, that show is for a more mature audience

there dose seem to be some kind of Harley x Ivy fan serves though

and speaking of Chara, I want to say that Chara of Undertale

their name is not pronounce as the same as the girl name “Chara”

as it turns out that Chara from the canon of Undertale

their name is pronounced “Karra”

while I presume that the Chara the girl’s name, is pronounced “Sharra”

at least I think it is.

plus no one has to agree with this head canon theory

but I still believe that Chara couldn’t of used their brother’s magic from their shared fusion body if they tried, of course in some more fan versions in Undertale AU made by fans that would be a different story.

plus Azzy could of used healing before their shared HP drop to 0 when they went back to the underground.

he had plenty of time to do that even while going back from that human village

so why didn’t he?

no one has to agree with that, but I have had a theory that the Fluffy Prince Boss Monster, ain’t as sweet and innocent as he appears to be

well his canon self but his other fanon versions are mostly 100% are innocent

plus it just hit me, that even after asking about that forbidden love thing

that has to do with Mortals and Angels

which I would like to say thanks to bright-goat for answering my question

even if I did ask it Anonymously, but what doesn’t seem fair

is that it’s okay for a Mortal to be in love with a Angel

but it’s not okay for a Angel to fall in love with a Mortal

even reciprocate the feelings of said Mortal

would that count Earth Angels too? like would Angels have to follow that same rule and not even reciprocate a Earth Angels feelings?

OMG (Oh My Gosh)

I have discovered a LOOPHOLE

since Earth Angels, are a type of Angels that are born mortal/human

and they can fall in love with humans since they too are still technically humans themselves, this would mean that a Angel CAN reciprocate the feelings for a mortal if they are technically mortal and are a human that is a Earth Angel themselves, BOOM!  there is a Loophole XD

 I think I had my mind blown from that realization

but anyway got a little off topic

anyway I had just realized even after asking about that whole forbidden feelings between a Angel and Mortal.

I had just realized, I could of Asked a Question to one of the characters

in the casino, okay next time that Question Box is open I’m going to try to send a Question to maybe Cuphead

or maybe ask Hopus Pocus if he has a crush on Harley Quinn

but yeah, I still can’t believe I just realized that there is technically a loophole

that allows a Angel to reciprocate the feelings of a mortal

and that is only if they are a Earth Angel that was born into a human body

so this would mean that Angels who aren’t “Earth Angels” are still stuck to the rule of not reciprocating the feelings of a mortal

while Earth Angels can because they are born into a human form

this means they can fall in love, get married and make a family with other humans who aren’t earth angels.

so wait what would it mean if a Earth Angel fell in love with a Heaven Angel?

there can’t be a loophole for that right?

and what would that make someone who is technically a descendant of royalty

and turn out to be a Earth Angel too? would they be like a Earth Angel Princess?  

  even if it would be a lesser type, and if hypothetically

a Cupid is at fault for making me think about well let’s say “Raphy”

around last month around 2019 and then how weird that tarot card reading for gemini for December got me worried but I am gonna try not to take that too seriously but I still have been meaning to finish watching it, I had stop watching it because how right some things were on them, I know it wasn’t just a reading for me and it was for all Gemini so yeah.......

anyway as I was saying if hypothetically

if a Cupid is at fault for that, I would like to clip their wings so they can’t fly

just like in the song Stupid Cupid, I will clip those wings so they can’t fly

 I believe that the feelings were perhaps a illusion

I ain’t gonna let my heart be tricked

so yeah I do admit it has been Raphael that I had started to think about non-stop during that time in 2019 while still being December

and then some time later I let a tarot reading for Gemini on December

get in my head and make me worried about it

I mean like I said I know that reading wasn’t for me, I mean yes I am a Gemini

but that reading was for all Gemini not just me alone

but it still freaked me out how that person got some things right

but they can’t be right about well the whole soulmate thing

I mean that can be right for the other Gemini, but not me, nope, no way, ain’t happening, I had finally stop worrying about that

and I rather keep it that way.

still been meaning to watch the rest of that video about the readings for Gemini for December that was around 2019, I keep putting it off but maybe I will go watch it tomorrow.

and I know now not to take that reading so seriously even if it was still strange how right they were about me having well someone on my mind and making me feel let’s say warm in the chest, but like I said that can’t be right

the feelings are a illusion, plus tarot card readings can’t be right all the time

even ones that were readings for all Gemini during 2019.

and please don’t make fun or misinterpret about the whole Raphael thing

I know the feelings were most likely a illusion, a trick.

so yeah best to just ignore it.

so anyway the thing I had been worrying about for a few days

seems to have been resolved.

and well I am still gonna hope and pray it stays that way and everything will be okay.

I mean there is another thing to worry about, but I still will hope things work out for that too.

and I need to say this, I am not sure I can forgive a person that caused me to have a second depression after the one I had during the time of 2015

a lot of emotional stuff was going on at home

and at some point it all caused me to feel really really down

which I had then figured out after I had got better that I had been depressed

I really don’t want to go through that mess again

but my second depression had nothing to do with well the one that happen in 2015.

things were really looking up after that, even with some stuff that had been bothering me.......and well on the year after 2015

there was some stuff that really got to me, people couldn’t seem to understand what I was trying to say and kept misinterpreting

I remember I had got really upset on a certain day during that time

and I was going to check out some art, but with how I feeling right then I was in no condition to do so I had decided to go to sleep

then when I wake up, some stuff happen that would slowly cause me to carry negative energy inside me up until December 2017

even though I tried to hide and only talk like maybe once in a while about how I was feeling, I know acting like nothing was wrong wasn’t helping.

and how things went wasn’t okay either, I never want to go through that again

and I am really gonna make sure it doesn’t and I am gonna try to make sure what I say isn’t misinterpreted like how it was before.

and I think I should try to find out if you can become sick from depression the next year? then again that time might of been just from something I had ate

  of course during that same year when at some point I couldn’t help but throw up.....at some point my first cat had passed away, it really hurt and I can still remember the moment I last saw them...and just now when I started to mention it tears started to fall down from my eyes.

I have a new cat now, this time I got them when they were a kitten

my first cat was a little older and wasn’t a kitten when they were given to me

and I want to make sure not to have too much negative energy around my new baby, my first cat was able to sense how bad I was feeling during 2015

and acted out because of it, I rather not let their little sibling (even if they are not biologically related ) go through the same thing

if they are gonna act all weird and crazy, it should be well for different reasons other than picking up on how bad I feel and acting out on it.

and my new cat seems to think they are the boss of us

it’s kind of funny and cute in a way

but anyway I don’t know if I can forgive the person that made me reach the breaking point, I mean even though we had made up before

over time I realized how it was “made up” wasn’t right

I guess I can try to forgive and try to talk to them about it someday

but I don’t know if they will even listen, and I’m not going to say who they are or what the problem was.

I just need to try my best to not let what happen get to me too much

I mean even though I had got better, it doesn’t mean I had truly stop hurting from what happen.

the episode with Pearl and Volleyball in Steven Universe Future

even had a moment where Pearl admits that she hadn’t stop hurting

it might be a first that Pearl admits more openly that she hadn’t stop hurting

that moment in that episode, reminded me of how I know I didn’t stop hurting

even when I had got better, the pain of what happen before is still there

but it isn’t as powerful as it was even if it does still hurt

and it really isn’t easy to get over the source of what hurt you in the first place

and for Pearl & Volley, that source is Rose/Pink Diamond

who by the way wasn’t really a good person and not really a bad person either

more like in between, there is still some things to love about Rose

but at the same time the things she did and those she had hurt

still makes her bad.....Love Like You, makes so much sense now O_O

so yeah I am gonna make sure not have a repeat on what happen in 2015 that was going on at home and causing me so much unhappiness

and the other thing that happen that caused me to carry so much negative energy up until December 2017.

I really should look up to see if too much depression could make ya sick

but maybe it doesn’t and it really was some bad food that caused me to not feel all that great during 2018.

I think it was like a few days I couldn’t stop throwing up, I was a little sick during that time.

I don’t know if it was the normal type of sick, or like if it was bad food but maybe I was just the normal type of sick.

but anyway I am a little tired right now so I’m gonna just go to sleep

I will sign back on maybe like Saturday?

anyway see ya later and keep safe everyone