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gaemkyuu · 4 years

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Of Kings & Queens (Part 6)

Warnings: none! A/N: Coronation day! I’m really thinking of adding one last chapter with a baby or pregnancy, but I’m not sure if I should just leave it as is... let me know your thoughts! AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

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Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

In the urgency to have Charlie become King and Olivia become queen, the Northern Kingdom and the Western Kingdom decided that it would be for the best if the coronation day for Prince Charlie was combined with their wedding. It was also decided early on that Olivia and Charlie would have little to no say in what went into their special day. The only saving grace they had was Savannah who knew her best friend enough to object to certain décor or wedding dress designs, but the poor girl was swamped with wedding planning and tasks around the palace. After all, the Royal families had decided that the wedding should happen within a month’s time. The two of them felt more and more anxious as the days drew nearer.

Charlie was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the constant stream of information being thrown at him about the Western Kingdom. He knew that trade and commerce with resources would be different, but he didn’t anticipate learning about the history of the Kingdom and the inner workings of its economy. Charlie figured he could learn about the Kingdom as he got his hands involved, like learning on the go. He didn’t expect the increased amount of meetings and gatherings of the Royal Council, which took away from his time sneaking around with Olivia.

Olivia on the other hand became increasingly frustrated with the extra court classes that her mother felt obliged to teach her. Every day she spent 6 hours with her mother being lectured about the duties of a Queen and what makes a good Queen. She also had to sit into more events with Ladies of the court and was constantly scrutinized on how she looked, behaved and presented herself. It was exhausting and Olivia felt increasingly annoyed with how she wasn’t allowed to be herself. It didn’t help that the only times she saw Charlie was when she passed him in the hall. He would exchange an apologetic smile and wave, which she would reciprocate, but the both of them knew how much this whole ordeal was getting to them.

The night before their wedding should’ve been filled with excitement and anticipation before the celebration. She had dismissed Savannah for the evening, much to her best friend’s reluctance. Savannah knew something was going on and she was growing increasingly concerned that Olivia was clamming up more than usual. However, Olivia knew Savannah was under a lot of stress preparing for the wedding and felt guilty about venting to her friend. Instead, she thought it would be beneficial for Savannah to get an early night and a little time to relax to herself. The only reason Savannah agreed was that Charlie caught her in the hall earlier and asked that she sneak him a small picnic basket of treats that they could enjoy together that evening. She didn’t ask any questions, but she also knew that Olivia would appreciate the gesture, and so she left a small picnic basket tucked away on her balcony.

However, Olivia sat quietly in her room crying on her bed, confused, lost and overwhelmed. The extra time spent with her mother made her question herself and made her feel insecure about herself. She started to feel unprepared every time her mother corrected her and started to question her worthiness as Queen. She hated the fact that her mother spent 6 hours every day for the past month grooming her to be a pretty wife that stood silently and poised beside her King, encouraging and agreeing to his every word. Her mother often reminded her that she needed to know her place and although she admired her strong willed nature, it was something that she needed to control as Queens are strong but also submissive.

“Liv? What’s wrong?” she jumped at the voice and snapped her head in the direction of the voice. There stood a tired looking Charlie with a picnic basket with a concerned look on his face. He moved over to sit beside her on the bed, placing the basket of treats on the nightstand, quickly wrapping his arms around her. Olivia melted into the hug and the small stream of tears became a steady river, flowing down her face. She sniffled and bit her lips as she didn’t want anyone to hear her breaking down. Charlie rubbed soft circles on her back with one hand and held her head to his shoulder with the other. “It’s okay Liv, take a deep breath and just let it out”

“I’m sorry Charlie” she sobbed quietly into his shoulder, hugging him tighter. She loved Charlie with her whole heart, and there was no denying that. However, the lack of control she had on her life was frightening and intrusive. She felt the suffocating feeling that night in the garden slowly creep up on her, but having Charlie there helped keep her at bay. “I love you”

“I love you too Olivia. You’re okay... It’s all going to be okay...” Olivia continued to cry into her love’s shoulder and eventually she found herself calming down, but the sadness remained. She pulled away from Charlie and moved to her vanity to grab a handkerchief to wipe away the smudges of make up on her face. She gripped onto the edges of the vanity and took a deep breath, straightening her spine. She was trying to compose herself and convince herself that everything was fine and that she was overreacting, but as Charlie wrapped his arms around her from behind, she melted into his touch. He turned her around and hugged her once more and Olivia was grateful for it. She didn’t realize how badly she needed a physical connection with Charlie. To her surprise, he picked her up bridal style, but she fought him to be put down. “Would you please let me practice for tomorrow?”

She gave him a small laugh and complied with his request. It amazed her that despite everything going on Charlie was still able to make her laugh or smile. Carrying her over to the bed, he laid her down gently and joined her on the other side of the bed. Instinctively, she cuddled into him, lying her head on his chest, something that Charlie greatly appreciated. The two lay there in silence as Olivia drew soft absentminded shapes on his chest and Charlie played with her hair.

“What’s in the basket?” she felt Charlie’s chest shake slightly as he chuckled and moved to sit up against her head board and pillow. She followed his actions and sat up as well as Charlie placed the basket in between them. He motioned for her to open in it, and she curiously did, smiling at what she saw inside. “You brought these for me?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to spend much time with you and we’ve both been under a lot of stress. So I had Savannah pull some strings and put this together for us to eat out feelings out tonight” he smiled and pulled out a strawberry pastry, taking a bite and rolling his eyes at how delicious it was.

“I guess I can have one. I have to watch my figure so I don’t look fat in my wedding dress tomorrow” Olivia thought she meant it in a joking manner, but it came out a little bitter to which Charlie frowned at her in concern and put his treat down.

“Liv, what’s going on? You’ve never been ashamed at your appetite or conscious about your body” she sighed as she pulled out a pastry and quietly chewed on it, contemplating how much she wanted to tell him. “Olivia Grace, don’t try to hide a single thing because you know I can tell when you’re hiding something”

“I don’t know... I’m just feeling so lost and confused. Spending all that extra time in court classes with my mom has been getting to me... I feel like I’m losing who I am in the midst of being this perfect Queen that the nation needs, while also realizing this is not the way I want to help the nation. I don’t doubt you as a King, but I feel like I’m having to choose between you or something that I’ve been working my whole life for?” Charlie sat patiently letting Olivia express herself, knowing that she rarely got the occasion to. “You’re going to make an amazing king, I don’t doubt that... but how do you just let everything that you’ve been working towards go? Especially when you’re being asked to forget about something you’re passionate about?”

“You know I won’t dismiss you, right? Your word is equally weighted in my eyes” Olivia sighed deeply and Charlie knew there was very little that he could contribute to the situation.

“I know that, but I don’t get to be in the room to make crucial decisions with you... you’ll make them on your own and you’ll do the best that you can. But the problem is there are people who could offer better insight to the situation” a brief moment of hurt crossed Charlie’s features and she immediately regretted voicing that out loud. Day in and out, Charlie was proving to be an amazing King, with wisdom beyond his years. This was another thing that Olivia admired. Despite the chaos and fun loving side of Charlie, there was a man who was ready to lead a nation in a moment’s notice, regardless of how he felt.

“Is this what it’s about? The recognition?” her eyes widened and realized that she had to clarify what she meant before things were misconstrued.

“No! I couldn’t care less if they only wrote your name in history as King!” Charlie still looked apprehensive and unsure. “I just don’t want history to mention me as they’ve mentioned the Queens before us. In everything that I read, they are portrayed only for their beauty as an accessory to the King, but never for what they’ve done. We are going to have kids one day and I want my daughter to believe that she could do so much more than being pretty and submissive. I want our kids to believe that anything is possible if they work hard for it” he perked up at the last part of her explanation.

“You want to have kids?” she scoffed at his response, knowing she should’ve expected that part to be his biggest take away.

“Yes, but not the point Charlie. I thought that Kings and Queens made things possible for the Kingdom, when in reality we follow tradition that no longer makes sense to our society!” Charlie held her hand as she sighed, frustrated.

“Things are a little backwards aren’t they?” Olivia nodded and the two of them sat there in silence. The reality of their situation sank in deeper and the discontentment Olivia felt grew stronger. She looked to her husband to be for assurance, but noticed just how deep the bags under his eyes had been and how sullen he looked.

“I’m sorry... I’m being completely insensitive to how this is affecting you... have you been alright?” Charlie cleared his throat and straightened up, thinking carefully about what he wanted to talk about.

“I’ve been in meetings all day trying to decide what my first decree as king would be”

“And?”

“I have no idea... Pat said to pick something that would profit the economy between the Kingdoms, but the King said that we need to start exploring foreign trade. Meanwhile, the Viziers have been voicing out the concerns of the people, all the while I’m trying to take your advice of picking something simple because I’m going to stick with it for a while and... it’s just... it’s a mess” Olivia moved closer to Charlie as he stuttered through his frustrations. She moved his head to rest on her shoulder and played with his hair.

“You’re going to make an amazing King. I know that may not mean much right now, but there is no one else who I’d rather take my place other than you” Charlie smiled up at her and kissed the shoulder he leaned on. Regardless of what his decree would be, all of the other three Kingdoms would have to accept it the day of the Coronation when it is announced. Rarely ever was a decree never agreed upon, as it was the duty of the next King to let the other Kings know in advance as to what he would be deciding.

“I just wished the roles were reversed, y’know? I wouldn’t mind standing there and looking pretty!” he smiled as a genuine laugh came from Olivia as it sounded like a beautiful melody to his ears. It had been rare to hear such laughter come from her as of late and he made the mental note to make sure she laughed more often with him. “Listen, I know this isn’t panning out the way we wanted it to, but I hope you understand how much I love you Liv. I really mean it”

“I know. I love you more” she kissed the top of his head before he moved to sit beside her and yawn. “I really appreciate this cute little picnic you set up for us” he opened his mouth to respond, but another yawn made its way out. “But seeing as tomorrow is a big day and we are both exhausted, what say you we put these pastries away and settle into bed?”

“Feeling frisky are we?” Charlie smirked at the flushed Princess before him as she realized how her proposition could’ve been taken. “Relax, I got what you meant, I’m just teasing you. I just didn’t think you’d blush that deeply at the mention of sex” his eyes grew the size of saucers as her face deepened its shade, cluing in to her embarrassment. “You haven’t had sex before, have you?”

Olivia stuttered to get out her response, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden announcement of her virginity in the conversation. It wasn’t customary for Princesses to spend time with any male unless it was an authoritative person, family or a potential suitor. Even then, there would always be a chaperone, which was usually Savannah. Olivia knew about sex, but a conversation such as this had never come up in the time that they had been together. She didn’t realize that she was still stuttering to explain herself until Charlie silenced her with a kiss.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about Liv” he winked, pecking her lips once more. “Does that mean I get to be your first everything?” She nodded and hid her face in his neck, still embarrassed at the situation. Charlie took this as a cue to lie down in her bed, reaching for the sheets as he slid them down. The couple laid in silence for the majority of the evening, Olivia drawing patterns on his chest after he unbuttoned it and Charlie playing with her hair while rubbing soft circles on her back. Eventually, Olivia fell asleep on his chest and he stealthily tried to get away without waking her up, but stopped when she grabbed his wrist. “Liv if they find us together in the morning, you know we won’t hear the end of it”

“Please... I just...” Charlie couldn’t say no to her, mostly because he knew the feeling. It was that same feeling he felt every late night that he stayed up to study more about the Western Kingdom and he was lost, overwhelmed and tired, wishing Olivia could just hold him to ease the emotions he was feeling.

“Fine... move over” she smiled appreciatively and moved over more on the bed, turning to face the other side so that Charlie could cuddle her from behind. “Just don’t complain if you wake up and I have all the covers” Olivia laughed and playfully hit him with a pillow. Charlie pulled her closer and snuggled his face into her neck, which caused her to giggle a bit. Olivia felt herself drifting as Charlie gave her neck soft kissed and hummed a melody that lulled her to sleep.

“Everything is going to be okay Liv. I promise”

***

The rest they received that night was much needed and both would say it was the best sleep they’ve had in a long time! However, the next morning Savannah entered to wake Olivia up only to shriek in surprise as Charlie was in bed. Immediately, the two jumped out of bed and Savannah rushed to the door. Hearing Savannah’s shriek sent guards her way and she explained that she had walked in on the Princess changing and waved them off. As Savannah entered the room, she chastised the both of them that they were lucky she had come alone this morning. After giving them a moment to say goodbye, Charlie exited through the balcony and Savannah began by shoving Olivia to the nearest bath to get her washed up.

Olivia didn’t have a moment to think about how she was feeling as it was one thing after another. Savannah ran a tight ship today and there was no chance that Olivia could ask for a break until Savannah got through her entire todo list. She winced as Savannah pulled her hair back and fastened it in the bun at the top of her head. People were constantly in and out of her bedroom asking Savannah questions about the wedding and coronation. Olivia was given bread, cheese and fruit to snack on before the Coronation and wedding, which she was thankful for, but she didn’t enjoy too much with the chaos going on before her.

Savannah finished up her hair and make up, then proceeded to get her into her wedding dress. This would be the first time anyone saw the dress, including Olivia. She trusted her best friend with her life, but she felt a little nervous. Upon seeing the dress, she instantly regretted any doubt she had for Savannah because the dress was perfect. Her dress was anything but the disastrous ball gown pastry dress her mother had recommended.

“Shall we?” her best friend smiled and Olivia nodded, feeling excitement.

Olivia’s wedding dress was a column dress that was off the shoulder adorned with iridescent pearl lace and a court train that began at her sleeves, mimicking the image of a cape. It was off-white and form fitting, something that no Princess or Queen in history had ever worn on their Coronation or Wedding day. Savannah zipped up her dress and helped Olivia into her custom made off-white silk high heels with gold vinery climbing up the back. She stood tall and felt beautiful as she stared at her appearance in the mirror. Savannah came from behind and hugged her best friend, chin resting on her shoulder and staring back at her reflection.

“You are going to be an amazing Queen Olivia. Forget anything your mother taught you and just be you. The people already love you, so why change?” a happy tear slid down Olivia’s face in appreciation at the kind words from her best friend. “Stop! If you cry, I’ll cry! I also just did your make up!” the girls shared a laugh and Savannah asked another servant to grab the King to help with the veil.

As her father walked into her room, his eyes instantly filled with tears and he was grateful that Savannah was there to help him place her tiara and cathedral weil on her. No words were exchanged between the two of them, just smiles and silent conversations with their eyes. With a last look at the mirror, Olivia took her father’s arm in hers and they walked to the Throne room where all the guests awaited. The walk to the throne room felt long and Olivia wishes it went by faster because then she wouldn’t have had a moment to think about what she was feeling. The closer they drew, the more confused Olivia became. She was excited to marry Charlie, but she wasn’t extremely thrilled to give up everything she worked for. She was thrilled that the Kingdom would have Charlie to lead them, but she wasn’t excited at the idea of being a trophy wife from here on out.

Her father cleared his throat and Olivia realized they were at the doors to the throne room. At his signal, her life would never be the same, and a wave of nausea washed over her, her hands trembling suddenly. She took a deep breath and swallowed, in fear she might vomit, but her father let go of her arm and turned to face her, holding both of her hands in his.

“I haven’t had a moment with you like this since you were a child.” tears welled up in her father’s eyes. “Now here you are, a beautiful young woman becoming a wife and a Queen” he sniffled as a tear escaped and he wiped it with the back of his hand, never letting hers go. “Olivia, I’ve known since you were a baby that you would someday become one of the greatest Queens this Kingdom has ever known. I still believe that my dear.”

Olivia started to feel a little emotional as her father lowered his defenses around her. “I know that you have dreamed your whole life to one day relieve me of my duties. I’ve learned a lot about myself as a King and father watching you grow up and listening to your observations about this Kingdom. In time my dear, you will change this Kingdom for the better” Olivia let a tear slide down her face at her father’s words but it was quickly wiped away by him.

“I will always be your little Princess” she smiled and the King sniffled. The servant apologetically interrupted their moment preparing for them to open the door as the muffled sounds of the orchestra penetrated the thick doors. With a kiss on the cheek, a nod from the King, they linked arms again and prepared to walk down the aisle together.

Olivia will forever remember that moment when the doors opened and she saw Charlie at the throne. Watching his face go from shock, to amazement, to excitement, to happiness was such a joy to watch. She could only see him and he could only see her. Regardless of what the future held, Olivia had one certainty. She would never regret the decisions she made that led her to Charlie. As she walked with her father to join Charlie at the throne, the smile on his face was the biggest she had ever seen on him, and as the music slowly came to an end as they arrived in front of him, the smile remained.

“How you doin’?” he whispered, winking at her. They heard King Patrick clear his throat but couldn’t care less.

“To you Prince Charles, I pass my daughter, Princess Olivia Grace, to you. May you fill her life with peace, joy, happiness and prosperity” the King placed Olivia’s hand in Charlie’s, hesitating a moment to pull away. “Take care of my Princess” he whispered looking Charlie sincerely in the eyes.

“I promise” he whispered back and the King let go, joining his wife to the side.

The Royal Wedding proceeded exactly the way it should have. The religious passages and oaths were sworn, along with the traditions of the Western and Northern Kingdom, and soon the two were pronounced husband and wife, in which they turned around to face their guests for the first time. Olivia noticed King Jeremy and Queen Carolynn smiling in the front row on the right side, their parents seated behind them, while on the left side Prince Owen and Prince Hayden sat next to the King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom. To her immediate right sat the Royal Family of the Northern Kingdom and her own mother and father to her immediate right. All of the important families, gathered in one location for this momentous occasion.

The trumpets sounded signifying the time for the Coronation and the newlyweds knelt before the King and Queen as they assumed their positions. The happiness of their matrimony started to fade as the Queen began to speak to the people informing them of what makes a good Queen. As the Queen spoke, the words settled in Olivia’s mind and she felt herself slowly becoming less happy, something in which Charlie noticed out of the corner of his eyes. He squeezed her hand tightly in reassurance, but it didn’t seem to help.

“I present to you, Queen Olivia Grace Gillespie” her mother announced as she replaced her tiara with a crown and the crowd erupted in applause. Olivia stood and curtsied to the Queen, then curtsying to the crowd. Owen clapped particularly loud and looked quite smug, something that Olivia caught. She watched him exchange a look with King Jeremy who smiled back at him, equally smug. Charlie’s whisper of her name snapped her out of her thoughts and she knelt back down beside him. The King immediately started his speech about passing the crown to Charlie and the responsibilities he would assume in his stead. Olivia saw him grow increasingly anxious as the King spoke, and she tried to comfort him the way he comforted her, especially when he started becoming fidgety.

“I present to you, King Charles Jeffrey Gillespie, the new King of the Western Kingdom” Olivia watched as Charlie was crowned and stood before her Kingdom who applauded him. He bowed to the King, who whispered something in his ear and all tension and anxiety left Charlie in an instant. The former Queen and new Queen looked at the two in confusion as Charlie turned around to bow at the distinguished guests, and then motioned to Olivia to stand with him for the final announcement. “Presenting the King and Queen of the Western Kingdom!” Everyone stood in applause and the people outside the castle could also be heard as someone announced the end to the official Coronation. After a few moments of applause, Charlie silenced the room with a motion of his hand and everyone took their seats.

“As your new King and a foreigner to this Kingdom, I have thought greatly upon what my first decree as your King would be. I have received a number of suggestions and requests from several honored and distinguished members of your Kingdom. Ultimately, I have decided on one.” Charlie paused, clearing his throat, leaving the crowd waiting in anticipation. “In the time that I have got to understand your Kingdom, I have noticed that the Kings of your past have brought prosperity to the Kingdom. In speaking with your people, I have learned that your Queens have done a great deal as well, but have only been known as the support to the King. We currently live in a time in which traditions in our past no longer support the needs of our future” Olivia looked at him in confusion, realizing that he was quoting her words from last night.

“In order to move forward as a Kingdom, with the interest of prosperity for the people and the nation, I believe that there are some changes we as a nation need to resolve.” Olivia followed Charlie’s gaze to Jeremy and Carolynn who smiled and nodded in agreeance, then to Owen who shared a look with his father, then to the Southern King who nodded in affirmation as well.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” she whispered curtly, looking at her husband. He smiled back at her and took a deep breath.

“My first decree as King of the Western Kingdom is to urge the Nation to agree that Queens shall join the Royal Council and their word should hold equal value to that of their King”

Olivia's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as she listened to Charlie’s first decree as King. Gasps filled the room and so did quiet whispers of chatter amongst the guests. Never had there ever been a decree that challenged their Nations traditions before! A tense and uncomfortable moment hung in the air as Charlie awaited to hear the responses from the other Kingdoms.

Jeremy and Carolynn were the first to stand and speak. “As King and Queen of the Eastern Kingdom, we accept your decree.” They bowed and applauded the new King.

The King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom were next to speak. “As King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause increased. Charlie looked to his brother and family, who were shocked at the words that left his mouth. Olivia must have thought that Charlie had already chosen his decree and voiced it out to both families, which meant that this came as a total shock. She looked at her father who smiled proudly, but her mother seemed equally off guard. The look of confidence on Charlie’s face faltered as no one stood immediately from his family. His brother stood slowly with his wife and cleared his throat. If King Patrick didn’t accept the decree, then Charlie would have to think of a new one, something Olivia hoped deep down would not happen.

“As King and Queen of the Northern Kingdom, we accept your decree” the applause was deafening and the people celebrated the new decree. Granted there were people in the crowd, like the Viziers who were tremendously confused and her mother who was speechless, but there were also people like Savannah and her father who enthusiastically applauded the choice to break tradition for the better. As the roar of the orchestra commenced, Charlie took Olivia’s hand and walked down the aisle, Savannah following and fixing her train as they walked out of the throne room and to the parlor to get ready for the next part of the occasion. Thankfully, they got to the parlor quickly without anyone stopping them and as soon as the door shut, they kissed each other deeply.

“Did that actually happen?” Olivia breathed as they broke the kiss. Still, Charlie held her close, his forehead resting on hers.

“You and all the Queens that come after you will now be a part of the Royal Council. I told you, everything is going to be okay” happy tears filled her eyes as Charlie held her, smiling. She was preparing herself to never have a say for the rest of her life, but now she got to start fresh with a husband and King that not only loved her, but one that appreciated and valued her.

THE END

A/N: Thoughts?! If I were to add one last chapter to this series, what would you want to see?

tag list: @ifilwtmfc @warmness0ul @starjane312

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines #imagine #fanfiction #jeremy shada #owen joyner

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passionate-reply · 3 years

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This week on Great Albums: one of my favourite “hidden gems” of the mid-1980s, Blancmange’s *Mange Tout* is about as extra and in-your-face as it gets, full of dense arrangements, gender-bending bombast, and musical instruments from Southern Asia.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! This time around, I’ll be taking a look at one of my favourite hidden gems from the mid-1980s, the sophomore LP of Blancmange, entitled Mange Tout.

Despite their relative obscurity today, particularly in comparison to many of their contemporaries, Blancmange weren’t total strangers to the pop charts. Their first full-length LP, 1982’s Happy Families, would yield the biggest hit of their career: “Living on the Ceiling,” which peaked at #7.

Music: “Living on the Ceiling”

While it never got to be a chart-topper, “Living on the Ceiling” is still an unforgettable track in its own ways. Perhaps its most distinctive feature is its use of the traditional Indian instruments, the sitar and tabla. While 80s synth-pop is certainly full of Orientalism, most of the references you’ll find are pointing to the Far East, and the perceived aesthetic sophistication and techno-utopian futurism of China and Japan. Aside from certain works of Bill Nelson, Blancmange were pretty much the only ones engaging with South Asian musical themes. Blancmange’s instrumentalist, Stephen Luscombe, grew up in London’s Southall neighbourhood, which had a high population of immigrants from Southern Asia, which led him to a lifelong interest in Indian music. Combined with electronics, it makes for a totally unique sound, which ends up sounding better in practice than it might in theory.

While any time White European musicians turn to alternative cultures as artistic tools, there’s a valid cause for some degree of criticism and concern, there’s also an artsy, left-field un-hipness about Blancmange, who seemingly drew from Indian music not only alone, but purely for sonic enjoyment. Unlike the exotic fantasies spun by groups like Japan, none of Blancmange’s songs seem propelled by any specific idea or ideology about India, but rather seem to tackle common pop themes of love and heartbreak against a seemingly *non sequitur* musical backdrop. While we, as listeners, might have strong associations with particular sounds, this is ultimately more cultural than innate, and there’s really no reason why a composition with Indian instruments must revolve around some theme of “Indian-ness”; it isn’t like people in India don’t also fall in love. However you feel about these influences, the role of Indian instruments is only increased on Mange Tout, where they appear on multiple tracks, including the album’s most successful single, “Don’t Tel Me.”

Music: “Don’t Tell Me”

On Mange Tout tracks like “Don’t Tell Me,” not only do the instruments return, but so do the session musicians who had performed on “Living on the Ceiling”: Deepak Khazanchi, on sitar, and Pandit Dinesh, on the percussion instruments tabla and madal. “Don’t Tell Me” is a track with a lot of pop appeal, lightweight and singable, which makes it a bit surprising that it was actually the final single released from the album. It certainly impresses me that Blancmange managed to create such bubbly and finely tuned pop, given that neither of their core members came from any formal or technical background: Luscombe had had a history in avant-garde music ensembles, and vocalist Neil Arthur became interested in music via the DIY culture of punk. Their first-ever release, the 1980 EP Irene & Mavis, sounds more like Throbbing Gristle than Culture Club, but they somehow managed to arrive at something quite sweet and palatable in the end. That said, it’s also possible for sweet to eventually become too sweet--and this line is provoked on the album’s divisive second single, “That’s Love, That It Is.”

Music: “That’s Love, That It Is”

In contrast to the lighter “Don’t Tell Me,” “That’s Love, That It Is” is utterly bombastic, with a vicious intensity. The instrumentation and production style is dense to the point of being borderline overwhelming. By this point in his life, Stephen Luscombe had recently discovered that he was gay, and his time spent in nightclubs that catered to the gay community provided another pillar of Blancmange’s signature sound: the influence of the queer disco tradition, which is almost certainly the source of this tightly-packed instrumental arrangement style. Blancmange never seem to be mentioned in the same breath as other stars of queer synth-pop like Bronski Beat, Soft Cell, and the Pet Shop Boys, presumably due to the combination of their overall obscurity and the fact that Luscombe was never the face of their band, but I see no reason not to include them in the same pantheon of camp. Speaking of queerness, it’s also worth noting how Blancmange played with gender, particularly on their cover of “The Day Before You Came.”

Music: “The Day Before You Came”

A solid eight years before Erasure’s iconic Abba-Esque, Blancmange offered their own interpretation of an ABBA classic with “The Day Before You Came.” In their hands, it’s a languid dirge, and a meditation on quotidian miseries for which the titular event seems to offer little respite. The unchanged lyrics, portraying the narrator working in an office and watching soap operas at night, are subtly feminine-coded, but the deep and unmistakably masculine voice of vocalist Neil Arthur seems to muddle those connotations. While it is a cover, I’m tempted to sort it into the same tradition as Soft Cell’s “Bedsitter” and the Pet Shop Boys’ “Left To My Own Devices,” as a work which musically elevates the everyday life of a campily self-obsessed character to the sort of melodrama the narrator perceives it to have.

I’ve spent a lot of time praising the instrumental side of their music so far, but it’s also true that Blancmange wouldn’t be Blancmange without Arthur’s contributions. The presence of his rough and untrained voice, with the added gruffness of a Northern accent, draws a line between these tracks and a typical pop production, and he sells us quite successfully on the gloomy, ominous feeling of tracks like “The Day Before You Came” and the album’s lead single, “Blind Vision.”

Music: “Blind Vision”

On the cover of Mange Tout, we find an assortment of seemingly unrelated items, which form a sort of graphic wunderkammer against a pale beige backdrop. Perhaps the best theme that could be assigned to them is that of travel--we see several means of transportation, such as a boat, a motorbike, and an airplane flying above a map, as well as items that can be taken as symbols of exotic locales, such as a North American cactus, and an elephant and Zulu nguni shield from Africa. Only the harp is clearly evocative of music itself--and this instrument won’t even be found on the album! The album’s title, “Mange Tout,” suggests that we are getting “full” Blancmange, or “all of” Blancmange. Taken together, the cover and title seem to imply that this album is stuffed to the brim, and contains a whole world of musical ideas. I would definitely agree that that’s a major motif of the album: it’s audacious, explosive, and free-wheeling. It very much feels like an album that was put together on the back of a first initial success, with a pumped-up budget and bold creative vision, and hence pulls no punches. Perhaps the most compelling feature of Mange Tout, and the primary reason I recommend this album so highly, is its unbridled enthusiasm for what it’s doing. Even in its ostensibly experimental moments, Mange Tout feels not like an album that is “trying” something, but rather one that boldly and assuredly proclaims the things it does, and embraces a kind of “more is more” maximalism.

In hindsight, it’s easy to see Mange Tout as the creative as well as commercial peak of Blancmange’s career. Their follow-up release, 1985’s Believe You Me, is far from the worst album I’ve ever heard, but it definitely doesn’t feel quite the same as the “classic” Blancmange works, adopting a more middle-of-the-road, radio-friendly synth-pop direction, with less of the South Asian influences and experimentation that really set them apart in the saturated synth-pop landscape. While not a work devoid of merit, Believe You Me was a relative commercial dud, and the duo would split soon after, chiefly citing personal and creative differences--though they did have a brief reunion in the early 2010s.

Music: “Lose Your Love”

My favourite track on Mange Tout is “All Things Are Nice,” which, alongside the neo-doo-wop “See the Train,” would be classed as one of the more experimental tracks on the album. Full of tension, “All Things Are Nice” alternates between eerily whispering vocals from Arthur, and a variety of samples from other media--which was still a relatively cutting-edge technique for the time. “All Things Are Nice” is almost certainly the most conceptual track on the album: as samples discuss world war, and Arthur whispers that “we can’t keep up with it,” the song is probably to be interpreted as a commentary on the runaway nature of technology and so-called “progress” in the modern age. The titular assertion that “all things are nice” seems to be ironic--or perhaps it embodies a sheer love of chaos and unpredictability, for their own sake, which would certainly fit the album’s mood. It also feels like it might be a sort of defense of the album itself: like I said, *Mange Tout* is serving us “all of Blancmange,” and isn’t it fun to get to have all of something? That’s everything for today--as always, thanks for listening!

Music: “All Things Are Nice”

#music #great albums #blancmange

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chibivesicle · 3 years

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Golden Kamuy chapters 269-270. The cliff notes meta edition.

This will be a less detailed meta as I’ve just been spread too thin recently and the current events of the manga have been underwhelming to me, making it harder to engage with the content.

Having an online presence has been a double-edged sword for me and as we mark 1 year of pandemic life, it is hard for me to invest as much time in it since I have to do so many more things online for work. Sitting down to write meta isn’t as fun and relaxing as it once was when you have 7 zoom meetings over the course of several days. Add on the fact that I have not left the county were I live since February 2020 nor I have a seen any of my family or friends . . . yeah writing meta isn’t a much of a priority. As an aside, I think more people need to be stating that being ‘productive’ and ‘leveling up’ during these times is either unrealistic and even more damaging by creating completely unrealistic expectations of how we should respond to things.

[steps off of soapbox]

Chapter 269, quickly shows us how the chaos that Tsurumi unleashed on the divided Ainu resulted in a tragedy and Wilk is the only one who managed to survive the massacre.

Tsurumi is able to sort out that there were eight Ainu, and that Wilk staged his own death by working quickly to conceal the identity of the dead partially by removing the eyes.

Kikuta is the first one to find the man who dies soon after discovery and Tsurumi seems to be in awe of Wilk’s escape plan.

KIkuta also shows he’s a more empathetic individual worried about how they contributed to the death of Ariko’s father. Did Tsurumi push Kikuta away after the war since he knew Kikuta would feel bad about doing the ‘things’ needed to be done for the gold?

It further highlights that Usami and Kikuta were never on the same page. I do like how the following page shows both Kikuta and Ariko continuing to tie the narrative that Kikuta feels a connection with the younger man. Shiraishi and Sugimoto spot Ariko, calling him Ariko Ipopte, which is an interesting choice to use a hybrid name for him. Kikuta uses his full Japanese name, while these men use a mix.

The final panel showing a reflective looking Kikuta walking alone in the rain really emotional connects with the grief surrounding all of this unnecessary death. Tsurumi sought to be a leader of men by giving them love and being the stand in father for them. I think that Kikuta is the character who is the natural and honest father figure - we know he has a deep relationship with Ariko and we also know he has some sort of connection to Sugimoto.

Tsurumi continues his ‘discussion’ of events with Asirpa and Sofia. Tsurumi has such a complicated relationship with Wilk. He’s both in awe of the man’s determination to survive but at the same time he wanted him destroyed at such a great cost.

Tsurumi really lays on the guilt to Asirpa that Wilk did everything to protect her - under the assumption that she’d be unfairly treated if her father had killed all of those men. Perhaps that is the case, perhaps not. It seems contradictory to his own actions where he gave Ogin and the Lighting Bandit’s child to Huci to care for it. He has this weird approach to the impact of the ‘sins of the parents’ on the child . . .

Tsurumi doggedly pursues Wilk and they immediately recognize each other and he flees onto the lake with his canoe. By shooting at Wilk, he forces him to capsize the canoe and items sink down into the lake. Honestly, I’m not sure what Tsurumi was hoping to achieve by this - make him swim so that he could capture him more easily. We don’t know how skilled Tsurumi is with a rifle and I’d be more concerned about killing Wilk and loosing the information. It seems reckless in my opinion since the ultimate outcome was Wilk appealing to Inudou thus achieving protection from the 7th.

I think Tsurumi was fueled and blinded by his emotions which only made things more complicated and drew the hunt for the gold out even longer (to the present time).

The rest of the chapter explains how Kiro felt. First, the grief at the loss of Wilk, trying to move on my having a family, but ultimately coming back to realize that Wilk was still alive after the war. Really, Wilk underestimated Kiro’s intelligence since he figured out that Kimuspu was the seventh man, not Wilk. As a Kiro fan, I of course favor him, but he really showed he’s a good leader and actually willing to take risks. What is most important is that having a family only lead him to want to fight for them - even more.

Kiro sees the flaw in Wilk’s plan of Hokkaido as an independent unit as a place for various native peoples, while ignoring all of the logistical issues that Kiro already pointed out to him previously. The Far Eastern Federation has the flaw that it is connected by land to Russia, but would me much harder to lay siege to. But Hokkaido as an island could easily be cut off - and with not much industry within itself, you still can’t do a whole lot with all of those raw materials if you can get industrial technologies from elsewhere. If it were blockaded they’d be screwed. Sure, you wouldn’t starve, but you wouldn’t be able to advance quickly. All that gold and nowhere to spend it.

Thus, Kiro believed he was acting in regard to their original goals and had no choice but to remove Wilk from the equation. As Wilk had become the very wolf that he had observed as a child and played with its pelt. That is some next level foreshadowing by Noda, if I do say so.

In the end, Kiro remained much more committed to their fight as partisans than Wilk did. You have to give it to him, he stuck to his original plans and he died believing he did the right thing. Now, looking back at how upset Sofia was when she first saw Kiro, we know why she slapped him in the first place. I’ll take it to mean that she was upset by Kiro’s actions but at the same time understood what he did. But then Sofia let it go, as she would soon go on to also speak fondly of Wilk and his desire to be like the wolves. Therefore, I don’t think Sofia was completely angry with Kiro, instead she knew the decision that was made and perhaps, she too, would have understood that there were divided in their goals once they moved on with their lives.

The next chapter starts off with the bottle mobile boys and Ariko on horseback as they determine what to do next. Sugimoto is amazingly still not rushing in like a maniac which is out of character for him. Are you okay Sugimoto? Or have your encounters with Kikuta and Boutarou begun to have an impact on you without being aware of it?

The settle on letting Ariko go ahead, even though he doesn’t answer their question. I’d say he doesn’t have a clue what side he is on. He likely cares about Kikuta. But he wants to see Asirpa succeed since he feels ashamed by his own approach towards life in Hokkaido as an Ainu.

Off he goes alone to figure out how to rescue Asirpa. Really, a terrible idea since sure he’s a tough guy, but we don’t know what his fighting skills are like in the first place. . . . At least he isn’t a hothead, so sending him in alone will be less of a disaster than Sugimoto.

The action returns to Tsurumi trying to turn up the heat on Asirpa. She asks him about Kiro’s fingerprints at the crime scene - a lie that Tsurumi fed to Inkarmat to get her to help him. He writes it off as him doing a good thing for her - she closed a chapter of her life - then again - he doesn’t know that Koito let Tanigaki and Inkarmat escape. The next several pages are a slow psychological technique that builds up to Tsurumi reveling that the bullet that killed Fina and Olga had been from Wilk’s pistol. Dum da duuum!

So, according to Tsurumi it is Wilk’s fault all those Ainu died. That he should have never left Russia for Japan. That even his time in Russia resulted in Fina and Olga’s deaths. Everything is Wilk’s fault!

This page ends with how Tsukishima let go of the woman he had loved and his memory of her - yet Tsurumi kept the bullet and the finger bones of his family! We can see that Tsukishima is barely holding it together, so upset by this knowledge!

As a master manipulator of people, Tsurumi thanks Sofia for what she has contributed to the story - he can help her feel better by telling her that she did not kill his wife and child. . . . on no, he only uses it as a way to add even more pressure on Asirpa!

To Tsurumi, Asirpa is no child, she is the direct tie to all of his anger and pain and his twisted soul.

I mean, he kept Wilk’s skinned face and he’s using it to get her to break! What is more interesting is after the initial shock, Sofia quickly regains her calm while Asirpa - well she’s clearly buying into Tsurumi’s explanation of things.

She is thinking about how her father ‘turned’ Tsurumi into the person he is before her . . . . I’d be willing to say that Wilk influenced Tsurumi - as much as Tsurumi influenced Wilk. Yet, Tsurumi as a human being is responsible for his decisions and he alone can respond to them in a constructive or destructive way. It is clear Tsurumi went for the latter.

Sofia’s calm in this pressure situation is clear as she asks him if it was for revenge. She’s a smart woman and has lived long enough to see these types of things through.

Tsukishima is ready to kill Tsurumi - it would make him a hypocritical leader - having him let go of his own earthly attachments only to serve a man bent on revenge. Koito is listening closely as well, unsure of how he’s going to respond.

Tsurumi makes it clear he could have killed Asirpa any number of times. I think this is another case of Tsurumi playing a verbal slight of hand. He’s asked if he’s doing this out of revenge, and his answer is - I haven’t killed her yet. Gee, based on how messed up you are Tsurumi, we both know that there is more than one way to take revenge. Killing someone in retribution is one way to take revenge or the worse way - make their life a living hell. It is clear that Tsurumi is going for the second one to break Asirpa.

There is a dramatic two page spread as he explains that he is doing this for Japan - and the implied increasing militaristic activities of the late Meiji government to expand their domain.

If feels - like a performance to me as a reader. The pages are remarkably light in tone giving it an optimistic and feeling of purity. Yet, Tsurumi is a broken and corrupt man . . . cruel in his intentions. He only says this as a way to combat anyone who were to contradict him . . . .

It is too perfect - too convenient - too good for Koito and Tsukishima to believe in my own opinion. As both of the men seem relived to have heard these very words as a type of closing statement.

Tsukishima looks relived that Tsurumi is continuing on the behalf of all of their fallen comrades and families. Again, this sounds too perfect like Tsurumi’s speech isn’t for Asirpa nor Sofia, it is for Koito and Tsukishima who are eavesdropping. Since Tsurumi is a next level planner/manipulator he likely came up with this well rehearsed speech to placate all issues around his inability to move on from his family’s death. It makes him look mature and that he’d moved on from his more basic human needs.

Koito looks like he’s trying really hard to believe Tsurumi and how Tsurumi’s words would comfort Tsukishima. But is that how you really feel Koito? That face looks - so - fake. Like Koito is overdoing it again and is actually unsure how to react. So, he he looks elated, Tsukishima will feel better - or something.

What I really want to know is why they are just there hiding and watching Tsurumi? If they are wanting to think independently and beyond Tsurumi why do it while hiding? It seems no matter what either man may think, they are still under Tsurumi’s thumb as far as how they react to his behavior and the current events.

And I’m gonna have to hold things here while I find a way to read the more recent chapters with non-shady software to decompress the files since I’ve been using Mangadex the entire time I’ve been reading GK (in addition to the english versions of previous chapters).

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #asirpa #tsukishima hajime #koito otonoshin #kiroranke #tsurumi tokushirou #sofia #wilk #sugimoto saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #warrant officer kikuta #ariko rikimatsu

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gaming · 5 years

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Indie Game Spotlight: RAWMEN

Get ready to eat your heart out with this week’s Indie Game Spotlight. RAWMEN is a light-hearted, soup-slinging, third-person food fighter packed with puns and explosive portions of hot, steamy fun. We are inclined to agree with Steven Messner who says it’s a “multiplayer game where you play a customizable naked man and run around hurling spoonfuls of ramen to defeat your opponents. I feel like I don’t need to communicate the appeal here." So we asked Dustin Mattock and Eric Keshishian of ANIMAL to spill the tea (er…soup) on RAWMEN. Read on!

Rawmen has been likened to Splatoon, but with naked men and soup. Where did this idea come from?

We were at Tsujita Annex here in Los Angeles and came up with an idea for a Ramen-themed video game. The original concept had players serving soup to patrons by chucking it at them from a distance, which would lead to even weirder situations and chaos. We didn’t have the resources to develop clothes, so we stuck with naked character models for our prototype. People enjoyed the comical nudity and we made the joke "Oh, Ramen! We thought you wanted a game about Raw Men." And that’s how the name came about.

Following the fun of soup flinging and mess-making, we developed a multiplayer battle scenario within the same theme—which proved to be so much more enjoyable! We get asked a lot whether the game is a gimmick built around a pun, but it’s quite the opposite. Gameplay always comes first. We put a lot of effort into creating engaging and satisfying gameplay mechanics as a top priority. The aesthetic, sound design and overall feel are all developed to complement this foodie world.

We drew inspiration from some of our favorite cartoons: Rick and Morty, Adventure Time, Futurama, The Simpsons. We greatly admire the interjection of adult humor and themes in these shows, it creates an entertaining product that’s enjoyed by audiences of all ages. We aim for the same qualities in RAWMEN, with nuances and humorous subtleties sprinkled throughout the world.

What type of gameplay mechanics can we expect?

RAWMEN isn’t just about pure, food flinging chaos. We believe in teamwork, and that comes into play with some of the game modes we’re designing. Our newest addition is “Claim Chowder,” where you and your team battle the opposing team for control of broth-gushing ramen pots that drop randomly across the environment. It’s already a favorite within our community.

We also have a wild set of random pickups in-game that transform gameplay mechanics on the fly. Each item has unique actions and characteristics that suit various gameplay scenarios.

Mobility and sliding contribute hugely to the action-packed feel we want players to experience. Jumping, sliding, and performing tricks while flinging food at your friends all make for really fun gameplay. This type of rad skate, or surf, style mobility is a design pillar of our game mechanics, and we hope to reflect that in every game mode we develop.

Do different types of soup in the game have different properties, like more damage, etc.?

Yeah, totally! Right now, there are actually lots of different types of food—Matzo balls, Naruto, and Dim Sum, just to name a few. Each weapon has different properties and effects. Some are extremely volatile and pack an explosive punch, while others may stun or disorient opponents, or even make them scream deliriously.

Weapons aren’t the only means of mischief, though. We have great plans for our utility items as well. For example, our “Bro Back Mounting Backpack” forces opposing soup saviors to work together and share points as a team, piggybacking straight into Hell’s kitchen together. Utility items like this are distributed randomly around the maps, making encounters dynamic and often leaving players in sticky situations.

What do you hope players will take away from your game?

We'd like players to come away from the game with their friends' pride, a good laugh, and silly conversations. If you walk away from our game with a big smile on your face, chatting with friends about the stupid shit you just saw—even if you hated it—we feel like we’ve succeeded. We hope the passion that has gone into the game translates into fun and laughter for everyone who plays it.

Ready to go all-in on RAWMEN? They are currently alpha testing on Steam where you can hop in, support them, and wishlist it. The team at ANIMAL is currently seeking funding so they are in search of publishers—or may do a crowdfund of some sort in the future. So be sure to follow their socials on Discord, Twitter, and Instagram!

#Indie Game Spotlight #RAWMEN #Animal

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onstraypapers · 3 years

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delicate | james & grant (cont. from this thread)

@morethanabattlescar

tw: literally everything, we’re the worst. child/parent death, cancer, war, violence, severe injury, hospitals, surgery, amputation mention, ptsd, panic/anxiety attacks, depression, grief, therapy, insomnia, nightmares, negative thoughts, divorce, pretending like they haven't already caught feelings

James wouldn't protest being tucked into blankets and snuggled by Grant just then, or at any point through their relationship, really. It helped that just being in his space was relaxing for him and it took some of the weight of the week away. The invitation made him smile and he slowly made his way through the apartment, pausing to look at art on the walls with a tip of his head. He enjoyed the sight of all the books on the shelves and the fact that everything was actually lived-in.

The sight of the office made him smile, and it told him that was where Grant truly lived but that was hardly surprising to him. Coming back to him, he slid his arms around his waist just to let himself hold him for a moment. "I like it," he told him easily, and that was the simple truth of it. "Did you get what you needed to done for your trip?"

The office was the kind of chaos where he knew where to find everything, but the organizational system probably wouldn't make sense to anyone outside his head. It was also the only place he had any photographs, a framed one of his parents and another of him and May. There was little else about the past he wanted to be reminded of on a daily basis, but he liked the idea of having a more recent one of James if the opportunity happened to present itself.

He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and relaxed into him, skimming his lips lightly over the corner of his jaw because he really could not be trusted to behave himself. "Good. I hope you'll be here a lot. Whenever you want," he said softly. He liked having date nights with him, but he also just wanted him around whenever he had free time or didn't feel like being alone. "Yeah, I'm all set. It'll be mostly meetings." He didn't leave a lot of room for anything else in two days. He hadn't yet gotten to the point where he did more than tolerate New York City while he was there. Eventually, he hoped he'd enjoy it again. It was a beautiful city. "Do you have any plans?"

He tipped his head to give him plenty of room because that was something he had absolutely no reason to deny him when he wanted it too. It was the sort of thing that was addicting and he was wholly alright with it. "You would never get rid of me," he murmured, his hands sliding over his back purely to touch. "My favorite person in a comfortable place that I'd be all too happy to spend time in?" And he wouldn't have to be alone with his thoughts, he'd have someone to share them with that could understand.

Angling his head, he brushed his lips softly across his cheek and temple, resting with his lips there for a moment of affection. "Meetings are awful, but they have to happen, I guess," he teased lightly when he finally pulled back just enough to look at him. "Well, I took a personal day tomorrow, so I get a long weekend, and I'm going to try and sleep," he admitted softly. "But otherwise, not really. The brat has a grooming appointment Saturday, and that's it."

That silent invitation was too good to pass up, and he pressed his lips more firmly against the corner of his jaw. He forced himself to limit it to a single kiss or he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself. He tipped his face into his neck instead and breathed him in, his arms tightening a little around him. "I don't want to get rid of you. I want you here with me, where I know you're safe and happy." Admitting that kind of weakness to anyone else would have at least given him pause, but it felt safe with James. If he didn't already know how captivated he was by him, it wasn't going to be a secret for long.

"An unfortunate part of life," he agreed with a smile. It wasn't one of his favorite parts of his job, but he usually enjoyed the collaboration that came out of it. It depended on the writer, of course, but his experiences were more good than bad. "Good, I hope it helps," he murmured. He worried about him not sleeping, but in the way he knew he couldn't do anything about it but be there for him, the same way James probably worried about him in the past couple days.

He shivered lightly, quietly delighted by the firmer press of lips he was gifted. One hand slid up to drift into the short, soft hair at the back of his head and wrap him tight and close. "I want to be here with you, too," he admitted softly into his hair. "I don't mind being here just for company, whenever you might want." He knew that he would always want to be right here, but he never wanted to intrude on his sanctuary and solitude if it was what he wanted.

"I'll send you ridiculous pictures," he decided with a little laugh, thinking it was the absolute least he could do. His nails scratched lightly though his hair as he considered his weekend with a soft hum. "Normally does. This doesn't usually last too long," he reassured him. Lifting his head, he tucked a finger under his chin to lift his face so he could kiss him lightly. "I'll be alright," he reassured him.

"Whenever you want, too," he agreed. He wasn't sure he'd ever not be aware of James in his space, but he thought they'd get to a point where he wasn't so aware of it that he couldn't do anything else. It wouldn't be hard for him to shift his working hours around James's schedule so their free time matched up a little better than just dinners or the occasional day off. He pressed lips against the soft skin of his neck and lifted his head before he could be tempted to do more.

"I'll send you some too." He smiled. That would be easier now that he felt mostly human again, and there was always plenty to photograph in the city. He usually took pictures for reference rather than fun, but he thought he could get into the habit now that he had someone to send them to. He shivered lightly under his nails and tried not to let it distract him. "Okay." He nodded, trusting him to let him know when he wasn't alright. He tipped his head to meet the soft kiss, fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck.

"Tell you what," he paused for a moment, brushing his lips softly as he thought, "if you're ever not in the mood for company, just tell me that. Otherwise, I don't mind spending my free time here with you. And if I am just not, I'll do the same." He couldn't imagine not wanting to be with Grant, even on his worst days, but the offer deserved to be there, going both ways.

"I'd like that," he admitted, knowing it would make him smile. He didn't even care if Grant just chose to share his reference photos. It was him choosing to share part of his life with him. The soft touch to the back of his neck drew a quiet sound out of him. His brain reminded him that they had plans, but then another part reminded him that they hadn't started yet. His fingers slid firmly along his jaw and he slid them into a firm kiss, shifting closer so their bodies were a solid line of heat.

He couldn't help a smile at the easy way he had of leaving him an out. Grant wasn't sure he needed one, but it was nice that they both had it. Even on the days like the ones this week, he didn't really want solitude from James. He was easy to be around; his company didn't take anything from him like most people did. He didn't know why James would want to be around him when he was like that, but that wasn't his choice to make. "That's perfect," he murmured.

The trip already sounded better knowing that he had an excuse to contact him while he was away. That soft sound had him pressing in closer even as the hand at his jaw became firmer. His own hand slid further into his hair as he kissed him, and it was all he could do not to completely melt into him. He was only too happy to be distracted from their dinner plans for the moment, glad to know that James was as affected as he was.

There was no part of Grant's life that he didn't want to be a part of, the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything that came with it. He wanted him to know that he had someone on those days where all the world was grey and muted, that wanted nothing more than to be there in support and care. For fifteen years, he hadn't wanted anyone else there, didn't think it was fair to ask someone to be. Grant was different, always had been.

He didn't think there was any way James would ever be unaffected by Grant, and definitely not when he was wrapped up in him and being kissed that way. He absolutely melted into him, unable to help himself or keep him from knowing exactly how affected he was by him.

He wanted to be there for James on those days too, for the insomnia and the nightmares and the gray days when it didn't seem worth it to drag himself out of bed. Grant knew he couldn't fix any of that for him. It didn't work like that, not even when you loved someone, but he could be there for it, and that was more than either of them had ever had with someone else.

James's body molded to his like it was meant to fit there, and he still wanted him closer. His lips parted and he deepened the kiss, momentarily forgetting all about dinner or the fact that they'd decided to take this slow. This was exactly the reason kissing him was so dangerous. He'd known the moment he did, he'd promptly lose all his reasoning ability.

Closer, always closer, it's all he ever wanted to be when it came to Grant. He made it easy to forget all the promises he had made to himself to take everything slow, to do right by him during this new chance they'd been given. He was so much of the good and bright in his world already, always had been. It was even better now, and he couldn't help but wonder if the darkness they'd lived through separately contributed to that.

He let himself sink against him, sink into the kiss, a quiet groan escaping him against his lips. Slowly, he pulled himself out of the kiss, softly brushing his lips over his while he caught his breath. "Dinner, supposed to have dinner," he reminded himself out loud, his hand soothing through Grant's hair.

Grant had no intention of abandoning those promises, and he knew that James didn't either. But there had always been a ticking clock on how long they would be able to keep up any sort of physical distance. As impossible as it sounded, James had gotten even more gorgeous in the time they were apart, which was both amazing and completely unfair.

He'd wanted to kiss him since he saw him in the coffee shop, for the past fifteen years, since the last time he'd kissed him like this. Either his memory didn't do it justice, or it was better than he remembered. He thought it might be the second one, since everything about James was better than he remembered. He was breathless by the time he pulled away and grateful that at least one of them could be trusted to keep his head. "Dinner," he agreed. He stole another soft kiss before he moved away, already missing the warmth of his body.

Grant was heartbreakingly beautiful, always had been, but is was even more so now. Growing up, years and life, had done him a lot of good, both of them actually. It had been hard to keep his distance, but entirely worth it to get to this. It was so much better than he remembered, better than he had hoped.

As they separated, he ran his hands down his back softly and tried not to whine at the loss of warmth. Instead, he ran a hand over his arm and gave him a soft smile at the soft kiss. "What are we having?"

Everything about him from his soft smile to the hands warm on his back through the thin cotton of his shirt made him want to close that distance again. There was fifteen years of longing packed carefully away and now threatening to overwhelm him. Only the fact that he'd been dealing with it for so long and he wanted to do this right made it possible to keep moving back until it was just James's hand on his arm, his hand sliding into his.

He brought his fingertips to his lips and kissed them and then tugged him gently toward the kitchen. It was usually stocked for a handful of basic meals, and he hadn't had anything in particular in mind for tonight. "I have the stuff for spaghetti, stir fry, tacos." Or anything else that took similar ingredients. Grant tended to stick to the basics, but he was willing to learn from him. "What sounds good?"

James let out a soft sigh of contentment as their hands wound together just in time for his breath to catch at the soft kiss. He didn't think he would ever stop reacting that way to the soft moments of affection. Following that tug, he knew he would follow anywhere Grant led him, to the kitchen and farther.

He pondered the options presented and let out a thoughtful hum, his thumb stroking along the side of his hand. "Let's do tacos," he decided, "We had pasta at my house." It didn't mean much, since he could eat it all the time, but that was beside the point. "How can I help?"

He half-wondered who they thought they were kidding by taking it slow. He already couldn't stand to let him go long enough to move across a room. There wasn't even a voice in his head telling him he was too attached because the voice didn't bother to state something that obvious. The only time distance from James had ever felt like a possibility was when life forced it on them, and even then it felt terrible and wrong.

He didn't have a problem with pasta multiple times a week either, but it was nice to mix it up. "Is chicken okay? I don't do a lot of red meat. Maybe for grilling." It wasn't even a health thing so much as that he just wasn't that fond of it and never had been. He gave his hand a light squeeze before pulling away to start gathering ingredients. "There are pans in that cupboard. And then pick some music?" He could work all day without it, too far in his head to notice much outside of it, but as soon as he was doing other tasks, he preferred to have background noise.

James hated it every time they had to separate, that deep seated fear that it would be permanent rising up to choke him. Clinically, he knew the attachment was too strong too fast, but emotionally, he didn't care. They had lost enough time together that he was far more invested in the emotional response for himself.

He smiled softly and nodded in agreement, "Chicken is good. I'll keep that in mind." It was an easy mental adjustment for him to make for Grant's comfort, and he'd make plenty more before it was all said and done. Stepping away, he went to pull out thee pans they needed and take them to him at the stove. "Music is a good idea," he mused, actually pulling up his phone for a playlist he regularly added to and had added quite a lot to in the last few days.

He wouldn't know where to begin trying to slow this down even if he'd wanted to. In theory, he supposed they could spend less time together. In practice, he didn't see what difference it would make. The emotional attachment was already long-established, and apparently time hadn't affected it much. What was left was figuring out how they fit into each other's lives now, and more space wasn't going to help with that.

"It's not a big deal." He didn't consider it a rule so much as a habit he'd picked up at home. He set the chicken to cooking and started on the vegetables, leaving room for James to join him if he wanted to. The song he chose made him smile. He had playlists for everything too, and his taste was sort of all over the place, not going too far into any one genre but picking up a little from a lot of different ones.

He wanted stable places for them in each others' lives, an ease of shared space and time. That wasn't going to come with space, but with time together, and that wasn't going to help them slow down much. He would have to be active about slow, and he didn't know if he was going to be any good at it.

"Doesn't matter. I'm going to remember it anyway," he pointed out with a charming smile. He wanted to know Grant's preferences, the things that made him happy, all the small and large things. After the music started, he settled in next to him to help him with the vegetables, a comfortable line of heat against his side. His music slid between various genres, mostly just things he liked and songs that meant something.

Grant was almost positive he wasn't going to be good at slowing things down. That was unusual for him in everything except James, apparently. He took time to think things through, and he usually didn't make a move he wasn't reasonably sure about. But for whatever reason, he'd been sure about James the first time they met, and he was sure about him now. He didn't need more time to think about whether he wanted to be with him, just in how they were going to make that happen in a way that was good for both of them.

"It seems you can't be stopped." He ceded the point with a small grin and a hint of teasing. He wasn't going to argue what was basically James being sweet, even if it wasn't wholly necessary. It was nicer than he could have imagined having him in his kitchen, the warmth and steadiness of him beside him a welcome change. A few songs passed, most of them from different genres or decades. He couldn't pick out a common thread among them, but there was nothing he didn't enjoy so far. "Is this stuff you like lately, or is there a theme?"

"Absolutely not," he laughed and bumped him lightly, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere that settled between them and how relaxed Grant was. "You know I want to know everything, right? The little things you prefer or don't like at all, everything," he pointed out gently. His hand brushed over his forearm and he gave him a little smile.

The question made him flush lightly and clear his throat. "Ah, it's um... important events and people... songs that make me think of them, and also that I think the people will like," he explained carefully. There was a lot on that playlist that was Grant and Grant-centric, had been in every format the list had been in. It wasn't all happy, couldn't be, but that was life.

"Alright. I hate raw onions, mustard, and pineapple on pizza. Love potatoes, all kinds. Can't even think of a way to mess that up," he laughed softly, nudging him back. It was rare to find someone who actually cared about all the small details of his life. It felt strange to share them, but it was the kind of strange he thought he could get used to. He wanted them to know each other. "I want to know everything about you too. Whatever you want to share."

It was unusual to see James flustered by a question. He wasn't sure exactly what about that one had made him go awkward and careful. "That sounds nice," he said honestly. Everyone who made playlists had them about people. He had one for James, even if it didn't have his name on it. Songs they'd listened to together or ones that reminded Grant of him after they'd parted. It was one of few ways he'd allowed himself to hold on, allowed perhaps because he never called it what it was.

He had more questions about it, but not at the expense of James's comfort, so he let the subject drop. When a familiar song from the time they were dating came up, he thought he had a partial answer anyway. Maybe it had other associations for him now, but the song had been everywhere that summer. Even if you didn't like it, you couldn't help but hear it wherever you went. He didn't say anything, but he reached out, lightly squeezing his arm.

“Pineapple should never go on pizza,” he agreed with a laugh, glad they wouldn’t have to do that. It was the little things that made the difference in day to day life. Grabbing someone’s favorite something just because you saw it and thought of them could change their whole day around. He wanted to be able to do that for him, to remember the small things that made him smile. “I hate raw onions too, love mustard but hate mayonnaise. I like dark chocolate, but not white chocolate. It’s not even real chocolate,” he chuckled.

“It was something I started when I first started going to counseling,” he admitted. This particular playlist was like a record of everything he had ever discussed in therapy. He had others, specific ones for people, for certain moods, but this was still his go to option. Self-torment and happiness all wrapped in a single playlist. Some of that self torment wasn’t attached anymore, not to the level it once was, at least.

One of the songs of one of their summers together played and he smiled softly to himself. Rose gold memories flitted through his brain and he looked over at the soft touch to his arm. Leaning over, he gave him a soft kiss. “There’s a lot of you on it,” he admitted softly, “But… you have your own, if you ever wanted to listen.”

"Glad we agree on that," he laughed softly. Not that pineapple on pizza was any sort of deal-breaker. It made him smile to hear the small details he thought important enough to mention, and he made an effort to commit them to memory. Eventually, that would be the kind of thing they'd know without having to think about it, but he wanted to remember now. "Fair enough. No particular feelings on chocolate, except that coconut shouldn't be in it."

Music and therapy was an interesting combination. Not things he'd ever personally linked, but he could see why it would work. "Does it help?" It made him a little sad to know he was one of the things James needed to work out in therapy, but it wasn't exactly a surprise. Talking about it was probably healthier than what Grant had done, which was to compartmentalize that part of his life as hard as he could. He leaned into the soft kiss, lifting a hand to brush through his hair. "So do you," he murmured. "We can trade sometime."

He liked learning the random tidbits of information, adding them to the mental file. It helped remind him that this was real, they were together again in a way he had given up on a long time ago. They had a long way to go to learn who they both were now, but he was looking forward to it. It was a new adventure despite how comfortable they already were with each other. History could do that.

He thought about it, a soft hum escaping him, because the only person who had ever asked him about it had been his therapist and that had been the original one back in active duty. “It can,” he said carefully, “Sometimes when it dredges up a memory, it’s not always a happy one. Most of them I’ve worked through enough that it doesn’t drag me down. There are a few, though.”

He leaned into that touch, his hand coming up to curl around his wrist because he really loved that soft contact. “I’d like that a lot,” he decided. Sometimes it was just easier to say a lot that way, with words and pictures instead of words. He wasn’t quite as good with them as he used to be all the time.

"Music is like that," he agreed softly. Good or bad, it could put him right back in a memory. It was part of the reason he had a James playlist when he didn't have photos out or hadn't allowed the subject to come up outside of therapy for over a decade. Short of cutting all music out of his life, which even Grant realized was unreasonable, there was no shutting that out. There were some songs, on some days, that he just couldn't hear, but most of the time it was one of few acceptable reminders of the past, bittersweet as it might be. "Skip something if you need to, okay?" It was James's playlist anyway, but still, it needed to be said.

"Me too." He stroked fingers again over the soft strands, remembering how much like a cat he was the first time they were dating, a James who would just flop into his lap with his I'm-adorable-please-pet-me eyes. It was possible that was different now, but given the easy physical affection they'd already established, he didn't think so. He'd find out for sure at some point and put that information to good use. He brushed another soft kiss against his lips and pulled away to check on the food before they got distracted and burned something.

"It is. I wasn't too comfortable with it at first, it wasn't something I was used to using as a... language, I guess." He had never thought about it as such before his therapy, and that hadn't occurred to him as thought until years into his service. He had never been good at letting go, at loosening his hold on much of anything. It had lent itself to his struggle after his family had moved, when he and Grant had begun to disintegrate. "I will," he agreed. The inability to make decisions for the sake of other people never sat well with him, as hard as he had worked on it.

His eyes drifted shut for a moment, wanting more of the petting and never wanting it to stop. Grant had always been good at knowing just how much pressure and scratch to put into those clever fingers of his as they worked through his hair, and that didn't seem to have changed. He wanted more of it, but food was on the stove and it made him want to grumble at the inconvenience of it all. If he pouted slightly when he pulled away, he would never admit to it. "Plates?" He worked at getting everything else ready so Grant could finish the actual cooking this time.

"And now?" He was interested to know whether James counted music as one of his languages now. He hoped knowing would help him realize it if/when he was trying to tell him something without words. They were better than they should have been at reading each other, but Grant didn't fool himself that he picked up everything that wasn't said. He wanted to learn to communicate with him in every way that he found comfortable.

He couldn't help a fond smile at the look on his face. It was nice that not everything had changed, and it made him want to drop everything to give him all the attention he wanted. He filed that away for later and loved the fact that they had a later. "There. Glasses in that one." He indicated the right cabinets. Between the two of them, everything was done in a few minutes and ready to dish up.

“Now… it’s one of the easier ways to say what I want to,” he admitted. In his long list of languages he had become familiar with, he could add that to the list. A book, a song, a food, everything someone suggested to a person had bearing, was indicative of their thoughts about them, and he was aware of it. He had learned quite a few ways to communicate but it hadn’t necessarily helped him thus far.

He wanted all of the pets and affection but he knew that dinner was imminent. It helped to know that they had later, and any variance of later that they wanted. He stepped to the indicated cabinets to get their plates and glasses setting things near Grant to be dished up and grabbed their preferred drinks while things finished cooking.

He nodded thoughtfully. He'd been paying more attention to the music since he indicated its importance, but he'd make sure he kept the habit now. "I'll try to listen." He sent him a soft smile, brushing fingers over his hand. He couldn't seem to stop the small touches now that they'd started, at least not as long as they were welcome. But that was a language for them too, wasn't it? One Grant had gotten out of the habit of speaking, but still there.

He enjoyed working alongside James to make dinner as much as he had the first time, and he hoped it was a pattern they could continue. With dinner served and seats taken, his mind had wandered back to their conversation about little preferences. It was sort of in keeping with the one about music too, and there were still so many things he didn't know about James. "Favorite music artists? If that's possible." He smiled. Grant was fond of top 3s, top 5s, top 10s, but he realized not everyone worked like that.

He smiled softly, “I know you’ll hear me when it matters.” He had a lot of faith in that particular belief, that they could understand one another easily with time. They were different than they used to be, but they had always been so good at learning each other. But then, there had been so much less to learn, so much less history to navigate then. He didn’t want the touches to stop, them speaking in a way he didn’t trust himself to yet.

He wanted this to be a part of his normal life, making dinner alongside Grant and talking about whatever they wanted, big and small. As they settled down to eat, he was comfortable and happy in a way that he knew he wanted more of past that night. “Oh… no… that’s evil. Okay,” he wrinkled his nose as he thought about the artists that inhabited his playlists the most. “Five Finger Death Punch, for a lot of reasons,” he finally said, “Halsey… and probably… well heck. “ he laughed when he couldn’t think of any other artists he listened to abundantly.

Grant wanted to believe that he would. He knew it was a failed marriage whispering doubt into his ear that he wasn't good at this, at listening, at being what people needed, and that James would be no different. Maybe he would have ruined them too, if they'd managed to keep it together that long. He acknowledged the fear, tagged it as not wholly rational (and certainly not the kindest interpretation of what had happened between him and Anna), and set it aside for now. Self-doubt didn't change anything. He could only try to do better.

It was too new to have the familiarity of routine, but there was something familiar about it anyway. That kind of summed up their whole relationship so far, somehow new and familiar at once. "Sorry," he chuckled, but he didn't take the question back. If the list needed to go on for a while, he was comfortable with that, so it was a small surprise when he only named two. "Love Halsey. I'll add the other one to my playlist." He'd heard of them but couldn't have named a song. Listening to James's favorite music knowing that it was his favorite--probably tomorrow on his drive--filled him with happy anticipation.

He smiled happily at the idea of Grant adding something to his playlist just because he liked it. “I can send you a good song to start with,” he mused, thinking of a few of his favorites. He was already going to send him a whole playlist anyway, and one was likely to turn into multiple as it was. “It’s hard to think of favorites when I listen to so many so regularly,” he explained the short list because it was amusing to him.

“Your turn, favorite music or artists,” he requested with anticipatory delight. It was exciting, getting new information about someone he had known and loved for so long. He highly doubted he would ever learn something about him that he would actively hate.

"I'd love that." He grinned at the idea of getting to know some of his favorite songs. He was probably going to send him a playlist or two as well. He nodded his understanding. He had a similar problem when it came to narrowing down artists of any kind.

He figured he would turn the question back on him, but that didn't make it easier to answer. A top ten would have been hard; two was almost impossible. "I have the same problem, but if we're going with two? I guess The Gaslight Anthem and The Weepies." James was right; it was an evil question. There was so much left out of that answer, but if the inside of Grant's head usually sounded like something, it was probably that.

James couldn't help but laugh a little and nod in absolute understanding. It was a hard thing to try and narrow down something so broad and wide-reaching as their music tastes seemed to be. "I'll add them to the list," he chuckled, knowing his stuff was going to be flooded with all things Grant for a while anyway. There were far worse things to have in his head, to let broaden the edges of who he was.

As they ate, he pondered another question and smiled a bit when he decided on one. "Is there anywhere you want to travel? Anywhere in the world you really want to see? Anywhere you've been that you love?" He chuckled when one question wound up being three, but he couldn't help it.

He couldn't say for certain they were bands James would enjoy, but it was sweet of him to give them a shot. "I can send you something to start with," he offered with an easy smile. Sending songs back and forth over the weekend sounded as pleasant as sending photos. James already lived in his head almost non-stop since they'd seen each other again. It might as well have his soundtrack to go with it.

"Haven't done much traveling lately. Never made it overseas," he admitted. "You know my mom. She hates flying. It was always road trips growing up." He grinned. It wasn't a complaint because he'd gotten to see a lot of the continental U.S. like that, but it was nothing like James's travels. "I guess I'd like Europe. Anywhere, really. There's so much art. What about you?"

There was very little that James didn't enjoy when it came to music, so he was sure it was going to become a part of his regular music rotation. "I'd love that," he told him with a little grin, knowing he was parroting but couldn't help himself. Communicating in songs and photos was easy and safe, but a great way to share what was on their mind. He was looking forward to the weekend even more now, even though they would be apart.

He chuckled at the reminder of Grant's mom and remembered more than one tirade when they were planning to go anywhere. "Road trips are great. All the clouds look the same from above," he pointed out with a little laugh. Not that he saw a lot from inside a cargo plane or a lot of the flights he took, but that was beside the point. "Europe would be really cool. I didn't get to spend too much time there, and when I did, it was only work."

He laughed softly when they both echoed their earlier conversation because damn it, he was adorable. "I like road trips," he agreed with a smile. He didn't mind driving back and forth to the city despite the traffic. There was something comforting about driving and music and scenery. He had a lot of good memories like that.

Grant didn't have anything against flying, himself. He'd been to Hawaii with his ex-wife. Beautiful, but he wouldn't call it a place he wanted to return to. "Where would you want to go? And was there anywhere you really loved?" He was stealing his questions, but they were good ones. He wanted to know everything about James, but especially the things he loved and wanted.

That made him smile softly, "So do I. Doesn't matter how long or short." He regularly tried to take road trips to visit a buddy from his unit whenever he could, especially if they had something big going on. "Windows down, music up, and a long road ahead," he sounded almost wistful, missing it since he hadn't gone for a while.

"I want to go see Eastern Europe: Hungary, Romania, Russia," he admitted, knowing it probably sounded so strange. "It wasn't an area there was a lot of call for us to be." He paused to think about where he had enjoyed the most and had to really think about any time off he'd spent off base or not on an assignment. One popped into his head and he finally nodded, "Barcelona. I got to spend a few days there on leave. Beautiful city, you'd love the art. The music? Amazing. The food? Even better."

"We could do something like that, if you want," he offered. His voice had gone soft and hesitant. He wasn't sure they were to that point in whatever this was yet, but even friends took trips together, right? They didn't have to go cross-country. It called up a lot of memories of plans they'd made back when they thought they'd have a whole life together.

"What do you like about it?" It was an interesting choice, not one he'd have guessed most people would make. It was James, so of course he wanted to know his reasoning. A pleased smile crossed his face at the idea of him in Barcelona. That had to be beautiful. "Yes! That whole city is art. Gaudí is everywhere. I bet that was incredible."

Hearing the soft hesitation, he reached over to curl his hand over his cheek, brushing his thumb softly. "I would love to take a trip with you," he reassured him easily. What difference did it make if they spent their time together in an apartment or in a car? They'd had heads full of plans together when they were young and planning a life together, and he could recall quite a bit of them. However, he found he was looking more forward to any plans they made now.

"For better or worse, I think they're closer to their roots. Sure, a lot of that is compliments of politics, but, it feels old. And they have some of the best stories," he grinned. He loved seeing his reaction to the idea of Barcelona and swore right then that if this worked, if they worked, he was going to take him. "It was," he admitted, "I liked the architecture too. But I most definitely paid more attention to the food and music. I did go to this one art museum, though, it was spectacular."

"Where do you want to go?" He curled his fingers around his wrist and knew how soft it was when he smiled. He couldn't look at him any other way right now. He kept waiting for this to get harder, or to at least discover something they didn't like about each other, but everything he learned about James just made him want to keep him close. It wasn't that he wasn't flawed; he could see that, but even the imperfections had a kind of beauty. It wasn't like Grant wasn't covered in fracture lines too.

"Alright. History and stories," he summed up, smiling. He wanted to think they'd get to do that together sometime, but maybe they could get through their roadtrip before they started planning internationally. He wasn't that interested in revisiting the past either. Their present held a lot more sway right now, along with this tentative future they were building. "That sounds amazing." He wasn't surprised to hear it, given how much he loved cooking and music. Barcelona was supposedly a great city for all those things. "Which one?"

"We could go to Baltimore," he suggested, content to stay as they were, slightly curled into each others' spaces. They were going to hit rough patches eventually, he knew that, but so far the rosy warmth made him happy. They had their cracks and imperfections, had touched on some of them, so it wasn't like they were hiding from them.

"Exactly," he smiled happily. He could picture Grant there with him, wanted that to be their reality one day. What they were working on had promise, and they weren't hiding from the fact that they wanted it to work, to grow into more. "Ah, the..." He trailed off to think back and recall the rather long name to make sure he didn't mess it up. "Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, it's like a central museum for all the Catalan art."

"That sounds nice," he agreed. He'd mostly only passed through it on his way to somewhere else. It wasn't too far away, so there wasn't really time to get sick of the drive before they got where they were going. He leaned slightly into James's hand on his cheek and then tipped his head to brush a kiss against his fingers.

"I've heard that's amazing." And more spectacular architecture besides. He was glad he'd gotten to see something beautiful despite his traveling being mostly for work. Dinner seemed to be winding down, and he gave his hand a soft squeeze before he pulled away. "Are you done?" There was more if he was still hungry. He usually erred on the side of cooking too much, since leftovers made for easy lunches later in the week.

“I think so too,” he agreed. It was a nice spot that was new for both of them where they could make memories together and just relax and enjoy a place in each other’s company with no history or expectations. His face went absolutely mushy when he tipped his head into his hand. He knew his heart was on his sleeve with Grant, and he was mostly okay with it.

“It was. Hopefully one day you’ll see it,” he smiled easily even as his mind tried to get ahead of where they were and he had to reel it in. “Yeah. I’ll help clean up,” he decided as he stood up and grabbed both their plates.

A place with no history for either of them sounded ideal at this point. He didn't think this trip was even particularly about the place so much as spending time together at something they both enjoyed. He wanted to hear James's playlists in the car and know what his face looked like with the windows down and nothing pressing on his mind. It didn't really matter where they were going.

It helped to know that James was as soft as Grant was for him. He could read that much in his expression, and it made it safer for him to not try to hold it back. "Maybe someday," he agreed with a smile. It wasn't something he'd thought about much in the past several years. Traveling alone didn't hold a lot of appeal. He joined him at the counter to help with the dishes and put away leftovers in what he hoped was becoming another easy routine.

Softness wasn’t something that James had seen or felt much of in recent memory, but he loved the look of it from Grant so he figured the same applied from the other side. He wanted him to know that he was cared for, that there was someone at his back and in his corner. James was all to happy to be that person for Grant.

It was nice to work alongside him and work at building a new routine. He liked the way they worked together and moved in each other’s space. “What would you like to do when we’re done with cleanup?” He knew neither of them would be too willing to part just yet, if their last date day was anything to go by.

Grant couldn't help but care about most people he came into contact with. He'd always been like that. Letting people care for him was where he struggled. He hadn't been able to count on anyone to have his back in a long time, but he also realized that if he wanted this thing with James to work that he had to try. He couldn't just close himself off and handle everything himself (and was that really working out so well for him, anyway?). It was a little easier to trust him with it because he already knew that he could be trusted.

He loved having James in his space, looking like he belonged there in the kitchen beside him. It made him happy to know he wasn't planning on leaving so soon. He considered the question, keeping in mind that the next couple days were going to be busy for him and that James hadn't been sleeping much, and decided they probably both needed something relaxing. "We can pick a movie, or just keep the music on. I'm fine with anything. What do you want?"

They had already established they were quite content to spend their downtime together so he saw no reason to rush off. He certainly didn’t feel any driving need to do so. James wanted him to go on his trip as relaxed as possible, so that was definitely the name of the game he was after. His own lack of sleep barely registered in the face of getting to spend time with him and take care of him.

He hummed thoughtfully and liked both options. As he finished his work, the song changed and he waited for Grant to be done before reaching for him and taking his hand, pulling him close to sway them into a dance. “I’ve got what I want. Right here,” he murmured softly.

Grant certainly didn't want him to leave. He felt as he had earlier, that he wanted to wrap him in a blanket and make sure that he got rest and snuggles for a while. James had automatically moved into the category of people he wanted to take care of, probably the person he most wanted to take care of.

They finished with the dishes, and he dried his hands, smiling as he allowed James to pull him closer. His heart practically melted when he realized what he was doing, and he easily closed the remaining space between them, curling a hand over his shoulder. He tipped his face close, brushing lips over his cheek as they swayed to the music. "Were you always such a romantic?" he murmured, knowing that he was. He wouldn't have forgotten something like that, or how completely soft it made him.

He was absolutely gone at the way he simply trusted and came close, his heart melting at the soft kiss. Pulling their joined hands to his lips, he brushed them softly together and let out a thoughtful him. “I think I used to be better at it,” he chuckled, thinking back to their first chance. He simply loved finding all the best ways to make Grant smile, would do whatever he could to make that light happen.

He started humming softly to the song, one he’d added in one of his softer, more wistful moments over the last few days. It was all too easy to dance them through the kitchen, his hand drifting down Grant’s back as he pressed a soft kiss into his hair.

"Nothing against past you, but no," he disagreed softly. James had been easier in his skin back then; they both had. Sure, he was more charming and flirty back then, and Grant had been thoroughly swept away by him right from the beginning. He didn't know if he could explain how it mattered more now, or why the fact that a James who made dinner and danced in the kitchen with him, who was willing to accept him like this, broken pieces and all, was more romantic than just about anything he could think of.

It wasn't the past version of him that he was rapidly losing his heart to. He'd loved that person, but James was so much more now. He smiled softly, gently resting his head against his and listening to the lyrics and James's humming while they danced. It was hard to imagine a prettier song, and there was no mistaking the meaning of the one he'd chosen. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips when the last notes faded. Grant paused long enough to choose another song before pulling him back into his arms. He'd said music was like a language for him, and he wanted to continue this conversation.

There was a comfort he hadn’t expected in hearing those words. Past James had been the one to catch his attention, to be at his side for years and make plans for a future they’d lost. When they made their way back to each other, he came full of broken pieces and heartache, heavy with loss and that included the loss of Grant. It had been as permanent a loss as all the rest.

But as they danced now, feeling the real, solid warmth of Grant against him, the soft puff of his breath, it told him a new story that fit with that comfort. The soft kiss made him want to chase after him but he saw he was just going for a song. He slipped easily into those arms again, sinking in and listening to what Grant had to say. This song filled in the parts of the story he couldn’t on his own. Who they had come back to each other as was more than enough. He wasn’t the only one falling, knowing he could trust Grant to catch him and either let him down gently or hold on to him with everything.

Past Grant was always going to be in love with that version of James, but he was a long way from the teenager he'd been. They both were. What he needed out of a relationship now was entirely different. He'd never imagined them fitting together again as well as they did. Somehow, even apart, James had still managed to grow into exactly the kind of person he wanted to give his scarred and battered heart to. He'd never imagined trusting someone with it again.

He took his hand and spun him slowly, the movement easy despite the fact that he hadn't danced with anyone in years, a small smile on his lips as he pulled him back in. If they were going full-on romance, then Grant had a bit of that in him too. He'd been the polar opposite of smooth when they met. He'd learned how to dance specifically for James when they were younger. There was no way he was going to let him go a second time. He was going to keep him safe here in his arms for as long as it was allowed.

When he spun him, his heart fluttered and he was sure his heart was in his eyes when he looked at him. If it wasn’t then, the sight of that smile surely did it. His breath hitched lightly and he slid his hand to curl at the base of his neck, forearm along his shoulder in a way that let him close. “I’m not the only romantic one,” he pointed out once he felt he could trust his voice.

He remembered dancing, both of them younger, smaller, more uncoordinated than now. Dancing with Grant now was like something out of a dream and he added it to his list of favorite things. He never wanted to leave the safe circle of his arms, and he chose to sink into the moment instead. Every moment like this took more of his heart and put it into Grant’s hands, but he was beginning to think it would be okay to do that.

He loved that look on his face, and he wanted to keep finding ways to put it there. He knew it was reflected in his own expression. He didn't have any reason to hide from James at this point. It was already obvious how completely gone he was for him. "I guess you bring that out in me," he agreed softly. It was a part of himself he'd thought was gone forever, but it felt as natural as everything else with him.

As soon as James had pulled him in at the first song, he'd known he was done for. It didn't matter what lines they crossed now. Grant's heart was already his, and he wasn't going to pretend to himself that there was any other way for this to go. Instead of trying to hold back, he'd rather put his energy toward making James feel as safe and loved as possible. He'd swept Grant off his feet once. He'd be glad to return the favor. He tightened the arm around his waist, drawing him close again while they swayed to the music, his lips brushing his ear. "I hope you know I'm not letting you go again."

It made him weak to see what he knew his own face was showing on Grant’s face. His thumb slid softly across the side of his neck as he gave him a soft smile, a silent way of letting him know just how quietly happy he really was. “Careful, I might get addicted,” he teased even as he knew it was far too late for that and he was sure Grant did too. It felt like breathing to be like this with him.

His arm curled around his shoulders completely when he was pulled closer and he tucked his face into Grant’s hair. A shiver went down his spine at the soft touch of lips at his ear and he thought he stopped breathing for a moment. “I don’t want you to,” he admitted softly, shifting to press his lips to the soft skin behind his ears. “I don’t plan on letting you go either. I want you Grant, however I can have you as long as I can.”

"I hope so. I have to keep you with me somehow," he teased back, an easy smile on his lips. Romance was all well and good, but it couldn't single-handedly sustain a relationship, and he didn't expect it to. There were things they were already establishing that were more important to both of them. But little things mattered too sometimes, and finding ways to make James feel special and adored could easily become one of his favorite things.

He pressed his face into his hair and breathed him in, holding him tightly. A small bit of tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding onto ran out of him at those words. It was a rare thing, the person you wanted most wanting you back. "You have me, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. They'd made those promises before, but he felt like they were in a better position to keep them now. He knew how easy it was for life to tear people apart, but he was holding on with everything he had this time.

“That’s going to be ridiculously easy for you,” he reassured him. The romance was nice, encouraged, but not all he wanted out of their relationship. They were building the important things and everything else was coming along with it. He wanted to make sure that Grant knew just what he already meant to him.

He slid his hand from Grant’s to wrap his arms around his neck, brushing his lips softly over his neck. He pressed close, happy to be held so close and tight. “Neither am I.” He was going to fight tooth and nail for them to be able to keep these promises this time. They were both much more able to do it now than they were fifteen years ago. More than that, he felt something stronger, deeper, that made him think this was more likely to last the way they wanted it to.

It was never easy to stay together, but this was already easier than he'd ever imagined it would be. They were both willing to work at it, and that was the important thing. They wanted to try for each other. He just smiled, brushing a soft kiss against his hair.

He wrapped his arms around his waist, James's body a line of warmth against his. "Good, I want you right here with me. I want you," he whispered, because that was all, really. However and for as long as he could have him, just as James had said. Holding him in his arms again was an unexpected gift, one he didn't want to let go of any time soon, and he was content just to stay like that for a while. Maybe if he held him long enough, it would feel less like a dream.

He knew their life and their relationship wouldn’t always be easy or soft. He wouldn’t trust it if it was. He wanted Grant to be his partner in every way he wanted to be. They both were willing to put in the work and to try and that was worth so much.

“I’ll be here, sweetheart. Every chance and every time you want it. Right here,” he assured him, because this was the happiest he had been in a long time. He let himself drift in the comfort of his arms, grounded in the very real warmth of him. The music kept playing softly in the background, every bit of it adding to the soundtrack of their life together. Idly, he brushed his lips along his jaw, tracing the line of it and marveling at it in his head. He had always been heartbreakingly beautiful to him. Time had only made it better.

He wasn't going to ruin this by thinking too far ahead right now or by creating complications because nothing real should be this easy. He had his hands full even adjusting to the idea that it was happening at all. He'd imagined having James back in his life a thousand different ways when they'd fallen apart, but when years passed, he didn't allow himself to consider the possibility anymore. There was no point in hurting himself over something that would never happen.

But somehow it had. Grant didn't know if this would ever feel like something he was allowed to have, but he was grateful. Second chances were rare enough that he didn't believe they existed, but James was here promising him that they did. "That might be always," he admitted, smiling as he rested a cheek against his hair. He'd almost forgotten about the music, so wrapped up in James and his own thoughts that he couldn't have said what the last song was. His eyes fluttered shut when lips traced along his jaw, and he turned his head, catching him in a soft kiss.

He smiled softly against his skin and let out a happy sound. “I’m quite happy with always, you know.” In fact, very little sounded better to him than having an always with Grant. He had given up on finding an Always years ago, had figured it just wasn’t in the cards for him however much he may want it. And yet here Grant was, again, despite all the odds to the contrary.

That soft kiss was enough to narrow his focus down to one thing: Grant. All of the rest of the thinking he could do about their past, their future, it didn’t matter so much. His hands slid up into his hair to tip his head just enough to slowly deepen the kiss, taking his time to sink into it and pour everything that was bubbling over in him into it.

"I like the sound of it," he agreed. He knew his smile was verging on dopey, but that was fine. No one else was around to see it, and he might not have cared even if they were. That warm, bubbling feeling, it took a moment to identify it as happiness. Before this week with James, it had been a long time since he felt something like that, a happiness that was hard to contain.

Being kissed like that was enough to make his mind go pleasantly blank. The only things in the room, in the world, were the warmth of James's body against his, the hands in his hair, those soft lips that could slowly take him apart. They'd said plenty out loud, but words could only go so far. There was so much unspoken in that kiss that it could easily overwhelm him. He made a soft sound, hands warm against his back through the thin cotton of his shirt as he sank into him.

James had found that, at times, he was better at actions than words. In this moment, it was more to be able to wholly express what he was feeling because he knew that words just didn’t cover it. He knew a lot of words in a lot of languages and there just weren’t enough. Happiness, contentment, excitement, affection, heat, desire, all of it and more were just adding to what they had decided to build together.

That soft sound was a gentle breaking point for him and he slowly shifted them until he could back Grant up against a counter edge with a low noise of his own. The heat of his hands through his shirt, the softness of the hair in his hands, and his mouth under his were his anchors for that moment. There was so much that he couldn’t remember feeling before, a depth and a weight that drove it all and made him want more of him, every time they were together and apart, like he just couldn’t get enough.

Words were fine, good even, but they didn't mean anything without actions to back them up. It would take time to prove everything they were promising each other, and that was okay. This was a different kind of promise. They'd always been good at communicating without words too, in looks and body language and soft touches and kisses. It was like no one else could understand this language but them, and it had been years since he'd been able to speak.

He put everything into that slowly deepening kiss. The ache of missing him, the longing of finding him again, the joy of whatever they were starting here, and the promise that this time they could stay, and they could try, and whatever life threw at them, he just wanted to figure it out with him. His breath stuttered when his back met the counter, but he only tightened his grip, pulling him in close again.

This was a language for him and Grant alone, and they had never needed a translator for it. His kiss made him weak in the knees and one of his hands slid to cup his jaw, thumb blazing it’s own soft trail behind his ear. There was an indescribable joy in it, in finding him and having this second chance, in getting to hold him again.

Hearing his breath stutter that way made heat bloom in his core and he pressed himself against the hard line of his body without a second thought. All he wanted to feel on any level was Grant and that’s exactly what he was getting. A soft whine of need that was as emotional as anything else escaped him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed in a way that made his head swim that way.

He shivered under that touch and the heat that flared so easily between them, as if it had never left. He'd imagined kissing him again, when he was younger and he thought he might suffocate under that loss, but Grant's imagination wasn't this good. It didn't take into account how different they would both be or how he'd want to spend forever learning the new shape of his body, still molded to his like it was meant to fit there. It wasn't more real than everything else that had happened, but it helped ground those things in reality. This was something he couldn't make up.

That soft sound made him feel weak, matching the longing he felt for him in every way. He slid a hand into his hair and kissed him steadily, a promise that he was here, and he had him, and they had time for everything they wanted. His other hand pressed against the warm skin of his back beneath his shirt, not wandering but just holding him there. Grant didn't care anymore if they continued to take things slow. He would do anything James wanted. It wasn't like he wasn't dangerously committed already.

The feeling was completely mutual, wanting to spend forever learning the new shape of him and let it ground their reality. For all he had imagined kissing him and holding him again, he never could have gotten it right. This was entirely new and it was exciting to him to explore and learn him.

He wanted to purr and melt under those attentions, the soft touches. The heat of his hand on his skin, though, that stole his breath and made him gasp softly into their kiss. Grant made his head swim in the best way and he simply leaned into him, happy to be held so close. A part of him wanted to keep chasing that heat, but the other part reminded him that he was trying to do this right. He slowly lightened the kiss before pulling himself away from his lips but allowing his lips to trail down over his jaw and down to his neck. He pressed a soft kiss there before tucking his face into the crook of his neck and letting out a shaky exhale. This was it for him and he knew it, even as early as it was, but he wanted Grant to have the time he deserved.

He wanted to memorize every soft sound and stolen breath, learn everything he liked that made his knees weak and his head spin. That was hardly a surprise. He already wanted to know everything about James, and this was just another aspect of that. Grant let him pull away slowly, for once not feeling the need to chase the kiss. He always wanted to kiss him, of course, but he trusted that they would have more chances.

His eyes fluttered shut as he traced a line of heat down his jaw and neck, his head tipping to give him room. When he tucked his face in, he wrapped an arm around his waist, his other hand sliding through his hair. It was as soft and gentle as it had been heated and needy a few moments before, his breath and heartbeat slowly evening out as he held him close. He had everything he wanted right there in his arms.

James knew they had time to learn everything about each other, even in this. He wanted to enjoy every step and every shift in their relationship. It helped that he now trusted in the fact that they had more chances for more nights just like this one, full of warmth and affection, dancing in the kitchen, cooking together.

It was a new feeling, being held this way and just not wanting to move away from it. This was even more precious to him than the heated moments they’d just shared. This was trust and comfort and everything he wanted. His arms slid to curl around him as he simply basked in his warmth and relaxed entirely.

There was nothing he would have changed about this night. It was already perfect in a way that felt almost fragile, but learning to trust again after they'd both been so hurt was always fragile. Even if they'd been married ten years, he thought it would have been that way. Loving something went hand in hand with the fear of losing it, and they'd both lost a lot.

He loved how completely relaxed James was in his arms, trusting him to hold and comfort him. He valued this more too. It was shelter and safety, and maybe not love yet, but close enough that the difference didn't matter much to him anymore. He relaxed into his warmth and pressed a soft kiss against his head, fingers stroking a gentle path through his hair.

Loss had made James careful, probably too much so to be healthy for him, but it had made his love that much more fierce when he gave it. He didn’t want this to be added to the list of losses again. There was hope and home available to him now in a single person and tonight was an example.

If there was anyone in the world James would trust with all of him, it was the man currently holding him. The soft kiss and pets made him him softly in pleasure at the sensation and he snuggled in. “Movie and cuddles?” The suggestion was born of a need to stay close but a desire for them both to be able to stay comfortable.

Grant did a good impression of being well-adjusted, but when it came to personal relationships, he had a tendency to hold people at a distance, even his friends. He recognized it as a thing he needed to work on, but it was safe. He didn't need more disappointment at this point in his life. He didn't know how he'd managed to do a 180 with James and let down every single wall he had in under a week, but it was worth everything they were risking to stand here and hold him like this.

Snuggly James was one of his favorite things, and there would have been protesting if he proposed anything that involved more space between them right now. "Mostly cuddles," he agreed, pressing a few more kisses against his hair. He reluctantly unwrapped an arm from him to pause the music, leaning forward to brush lips against his neck as he tucked the phone back into James's pocket. There was a fine line between cuddling and flirting, and Grant was a pretty good multitasker.

“Mostly cuddles,” he agreed happily, knowing he was only going to give any movie they turned on his partial attention. He enjoyed the press of kisses and thought he could used to those all too easily from him. It was all he could do to keep himself from pouting when he shifted away but it was definitely helped with how his phone was returned to his pocket.

His head tipped and his breath caught, his hands lifting to curl around his hips. “Thank you,” he smiled slowly, brushing his thumbs slightly under his t-shirt to catch his hipbones before turning him towards the living room. “Turn on whatever you’d like,” he requested, stepping up behind him to brush his lips lightly over the back of his neck.

"Happy to help." A slow smile spread across his face too, a trace more mischief in it. A small shiver ran through him at the ghost of lips on his neck, and he couldn't help leaning back into him a little. He'd started it, so that was fair. Rather than wrap James around him like a blanket, he slid a hand into his and pulled him to the couch.

He picked up the remotes and took a seat, holding out an arm for him to join him. "What do you like?" He clicked through some movies, looking for something pleasant but easy to ignore. Grant tended toward things with happy endings: Disney, musicals, superheroes. He had enough drama and sadness in his real life not to appreciate it much in his fiction.

The mischievous smile did things to him and it sent a little shiver down his spine, delight and anticipation filling him at the sight of it despite himself. He liked the way he leaned back into him and happily would have become a human blanket for hun. He was content enough to curl his hand around Grant’s and go with his pull. After all, that tug meant more cuddles and closeness and that was exactly what he was in the mood for.

He settled down next to him, curling under his arm and tucking his legs over his lap with no hesitation. “Something happy,” he decided with a little hum, “How about we go Disney?” He was unashamed of his love for Disney movies. He liked action movies too, but even those he wanted to see happy endings. Sci-fi and fantasy films were also always on the docket for him to watch.

He smiled as the weight of his legs settled over him, and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shifting until they were both settled in close. With someone he cared for, Grant was a major cuddler. Tangled on the couch, soft kisses, playing with hair. It wasn't something he'd had much of for a long time.

"Always good," he agreed, flipping to the right channel. He wasn't sure he trusted someone who said they didn't like Disney. Didn't sound like his kind of person at all. He settled on Lilo & Stitch because it was near the top and set the remote aside, wrapping that arm around James too.

It would likely surprise Grant to learn that James was very much out of practice with cuddling or close human contact in general. It had been a very long time since he had simply curled up and cuddled with anyone. This, though… this felt like coming home. Grant felt like home. Like peace. He hadn’t had either for a very long time.

“That was my thought too,” he murmured softly, already melting against the warmth of him and pillowing his head on his shoulder. Seeing the movie made him smile softly, as it was one of his favorites. “I love this one,” he told him quietly, his arms wrapping around him as he took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the relaxing scent of him.

Grant was out of practice as well. There was no one he'd wanted this close to him for quite some time. Even his last couple years of marriage hadn't included much softness, which in hindsight should have been a red flag. Caught in the middle of it, he couldn't see anything past his grief. Being curled on the couch with James was a bit of long-needed comfort.

"Me too." He smiled, brushing a kiss against his hair. He'd practically memorized this movie and didn't need to pay close attention to follow it. It was more like comforting background noise while he let his mind and body relax. It had been a weird week, to put it lightly, and he didn't want to think about anything more complicated than Disney aliens and the man in his lap for the rest of the night.

He wanted more nights exactly like this one, cooking and dancing and ending curled together in simple closeness and comfort. He had a feeling that Grant needed it as much as he did. James could imagine many a night spent with a Disney film on just to relax to and do absolutely nothing but be together.

A weird week was putting it mildly, in James’s opinion. His world had been flipped on its axis, everything he had been doing seemed lonely now and he wondered if he’d simply been blatantly ignoring it. Therapist: One. James: Zero. The arm across Grant’s front lifted so he could slide his fingers softly over his neck and shoulder in an idle pet, occasionally sliding high enough to brush through his hair. He only gave the movie partial attention, knowing it by heart, and gave most of his attention to the man he was practically laying on.

He did need it, more than he'd wanted to admit before now. His therapist kept telling him people weren't meant to be alone, and he kept telling her that he wasn't. He had colleagues and friends, people he hung out with semi-regularly, and they both knew that wasn't what she meant. He didn't romanticize being alone, but it was hard not to be grateful they'd both been unattached and could give this a chance.

His fingers brushed a lazy path over his arm, and he occasionally pressed another soft kiss into his hair. His mind was wandering back to this is too good to be allowed, and the small touches helped ground him in reality. About halfway through he moved his legs up onto the couch and shifted to lie down, reaching to pull James down with him too if he wanted to come.

It was easy to drift on the soft wave of relaxation the soothing touches and warmth brought. He wasn’t really asleep, but he knew he wasn’t very alert. It was the first time in a long time he felt comfortable and even more… safe. It felt like something out of a dream, but his best dreams never felt so solid or so full of happiness the way this did.

When Grant shifted, he didn’t even pause to consider and simply shifted with him. He more sprawled on top of him rather like a blanket than laid down beside him, his hand sliding just under his shirt to rest on the warm skin of his side, the other tucking slightly under him. His head went to his shoulder and the crook of his neck, burrowing in with a soft sound.

It filled him with a gentle happiness the way James just made himself comfortable, no awkwardness or hesitation, as though he was exactly where he was meant to be. There was something deeply comforting about the weight of him and the warmth of the hand on his side. He reached for the blanket on the back of the couch and tugged it over both of them.

He pressed a kiss to his forehead and curled an arm around his waist, the other reaching up to drift idly through his hair. If he had an evil plan, it was getting James relaxed enough to sleep. He worried a little about his insomnia. It might have been working a little too well though, since he was feeling relaxed and sleepy enough to drift off himself.

Meant to be or not, James was precisely where he wanted to be. That alone was enough for him to question absolutely nothing. As the blanket drifted over the pair of them, he let out a quiet hum of contentment and snuggled closer. He must have been a cat in another life, the way he preferred to cuddle in and be petted.

His eyes drifted shut at the soft strokes through his hair combined with the kiss. It was something out of his most far fetched but wanted dreams and he wanted it to be real too much to question it. For the first time in days, he felt the pull of sleep and tried to fight it for a little while, letting his eye flit between the screen and Grant’s face. It wasn’t long though before it took over and he drifted off into a soft sleep, his body going entirely lax atop him.

He remembered nights like this from before, how soft and snuggly James was with him, but he hadn't allowed himself to remember too vividly. For so long memories like that just hurt. It was coming back clearer than ever now, with more fondness than pain. He wanted to give him all the snuggles and pets he could possibly want.

He divided his attention between the movie and James as well, aware when he started to doze and not doing anything to disrupt it. He needed the rest, and Grant was happy he was comfortable enough to sleep even a little. He kept up the slow path of his hand through his hair until he started to feel drowsy too, and then he curled that hand over his shoulder and drifted off, the familiar dialogue a comforting background noise.

This was special to Grant and only Grant. He couldn’t remember relaxing so entirely or sliding so easily into sleep with anyone else. But then, he had never found anyone in his younger days or older, that he connected with as easily and as deeply as he did with him. He’d tried to force the memories away so often but it hardly worked. Now he was kind of glad because he was able to enjoy them on a whole new level.

He barely registered the slight shift in positioning or the cessation of pets, he was so deep into that soft sleepy place. Over the years, sleep had gotten progressively harder to achieve and he knew that he shouldn’t entirely give in here but he wanted to. He wanted to trust Grant with his sleep, with his most vulnerable moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Grant already. He didn’t trust himself not to ruin it when his subconscious took over and sleep was less than sweet.

Grant had done his best to move on after James enlisted, and by most accounts, he'd been successful at that. He'd loved Anna; of course he had. He wouldn't have married her if he didn't. It was different though, slower and quieter and based more on familiarity and time than the sort of overwhelming, immediate connection he'd had with James. He'd always been in a category of his own.

They hadn't spoken in depth about the insomnia or the nightmares and PTSD that likely came with an injury like his. Grant only worried about it as far as it affected James, and whatever he might be able to do to help him in a situation like that. Nightmares were pretty regular for him too. It wasn't on his mind at the moment as he drifted in and out of sleep, James a warm, welcome weight over him. He must have dozed more than he realized because the next time he opened his eyes, the movie was back on its starting screen and he didn't remember seeing the end. He didn't feel any particular inclination to move though.

Genuinely, James hadn’t cared about moving on. He hadn’t had time for a relationship in all reality, with how he thrown himself into his career once he had realized he didn’t really have another choice. It had been easier and preferable to be married to his job, especially after the loss of his mom and Kim’s fiery independent streak.

He knew that eventually, he would have to talk to Grant about his PTSD, the insomnia, everything that came with it. He would have to tell him what it was like in those darkest moments of his mind and memories that he couldn’t shake and likely never would. He hadn’t spent the night asleep in a bed with anyone since his career ending injury, so he wasn’t at all sure about what it would be like for Grant. The warmth under him was a welcome one, firm and comforting. Waking up to the heavy weight across his back was new and he froze for a moment, hands tightening, before it all came back to him. He had to force a few slow, deep breaths and unlock his muscles as he reminded himself he was safe and everything was okay.

They had plenty of time to talk about the darker parts of their history. Grant wanted to hear all of it. He wanted to know him, even the shadowed parts, even of there was nothing at all he could do to help. Not every fracture line could be painted back together with gold. Some things would just always hurt, but he still wanted to know them. At least he wouldn't be alone with it anymore.

Drifting between awake and asleep fell abruptly into awake at the sudden tension in him. He wasn't sure if moving would help or make it worse. He compromised by waiting until James seemed more alert, and then he smoothed a hand back through his hair. "Okay?" he murmured. He stroked fingers over the back of his neck, lightly soothing.

The soothing touch helped him relax again, sinking back down against him in a loose puddle of limbs. He knew he wasn’t alone, knew that he could talk to Grant about it if he wanted to just then. All of his broken parts couldn’t be smoothed, they couldn’t all be put back together in a way that made sense or was inclined to stay together. He could only hope that they could make it through the learning of it all together.

“Now I am,” he said quietly, pressing his face into his neck. His hands smoothed over his sides under the soft cotton of his shirt in a gesture of gratitude. Lips brushed a soft kiss over his neck and he exhaled softly. “I haven’t slept with anyone since…” he rotated his shoulder slightly and sighed lightly.

He doubted there was anything James could tell him that would make him walk away. Everything he'd learned about this new version of him just made him want him more. Not the easy, idealized version in his memory, but the real man, the one who'd been broken but was still braver and sweeter than anyone he'd ever met. It wasn't like Grant was still in factory condition either.

He curled his arms a little tighter around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His hand kept up its slow path through his hair. It made him a little sad to hear he'd been alone all that time, and a little warm that he felt safe enough to fall asleep here. "You can stay, if you want. I want you to be able to sleep though." He didn't want to add to his sleep trouble by asking him to stay in an unfamiliar place or share a bed when he was used to sleeping alone, but he wanted him to know he was welcome.

He felt the comfort and care in that hold, the soft touches. It didn’t make him sad to think of the time he’d spent alone, since he has spent so much of it healing and not in any mental place good for another person. When he stopped to consider his sleep over the week, this was among the best and it was slightly startling to consider.

He lifted himself up just enough to look at Grant’s face properly. “I’d ask if that’s what you really want, but since I know it’s what I want, I have a feeling it’s mutual,” he murmured, his voice careful and thoughtful. “Instead I’ll ask… do you think it’s a good move for us right now? If it’s yes, I’m staying. If it’s no, then I’m going home. I promised you, sweetheart, we would do this right.” He brushed his hand softly along his cheek. “Don’t think about anyone else’s ‘normal’ timelines. For you and me, us and this thing we’re building, is it a good move?”

He was so beautiful, even in the dim glow of the tv, that it made his chest ache to look at him. He traced the side of his face, thumb brushing along his jawline. "I don't know. I don't trust myself to be objective about you," he admitted with a small smile. He didn't know what was good for them at this point. They probably wouldn't know for a while. He just knew he wanted him there.

He tipped his head forward just far enough to kiss him softly. "I can promise that if you stay, it's just for sleep. I'll behave. I don't want to rush this either." He still wasn't sure that it mattered anymore, as wrapped up in James as he already was, but he would never push him for anything. If they decided not to cross a line, then he wouldn't cross it.

There was no part of him that wanted to go home, to attempt to sleep in a cold, lonely bed when he knew he could be right here. He brushed soft touches purely because he needed the contact even while he tipped his head into that soft touch. “Oh lucky, we’re both terribly attached,” he murmured, a gently teasing note in his voice.

He hummed quietly into the kiss, leaning into it just a little bit. It wasn’t so much a concern about rushing anymore. His heart had done that and there was nothing to do to stop that. “I want to stay,” he told him softly and barely kept himself from saying that was a promise he didn’t need or want. Leaning in, he kissed him slow and let the kiss say it instead. He was safe, happy, and wanted and he wanted Grant to feel it too.

He was trying not to think too hard about James leaving. He knew he was going to miss him as soon as he left, whenever that was, and he decided that was a problem for another time. He smiled, knowing James was teasing, but he did feel lucky when it came to this. How often was the person you were terribly attached to just as attached to you? It was like winning the lottery, except he hadn't even been playing.

"I want you to stay." He murmured the words against his lips in between soft kisses. Grant wasn't expecting him to kiss him in a way that immediately challenged that promise, but maybe he should have. It wasn't James who had promised to behave, after all. He melted a little into it, his hand resting against the warm skin his back just beneath his shirt. Worth whatever torture he had to endure to keep him.

“Then staying it is,” he decided, completely content with their choice. Soft kisses and warm touches melted into something more in his chest as he purposely prodded at that heat to see if it would flare up again. He was already glad that Grant wanted him to stay because leaving was the absolute last thing he wanted.

He slowly lightened the kiss as easily as he’d deepened it, his hands brushing a soothing trail over his sides. “Sorry, had to,” he smiled slowly, brushing a kiss over his cheek.

He made a soft sound as the kiss deepened, his hand sliding further into his hair and the other tracing a soothing pattern over soft skin. Mixed with their sleepy cuddles, it wasn't quite the heat of earlier, but it was there, easily called to the surface if they wanted it. Grant had a feeling that would always be the case. He'd always been hopelessly attracted to him.

He huffed a quiet laugh as he pulled away, not altogether surprised to hear it was intentional. He didn't look at all sorry, but neither was Grant. If he wanted to wind him up, he could think of way worse ways to spend the night. "Troublemaker," he murmured fondly, tipping his head to press a kiss against his jaw.

It was so easy to give in to the endless attraction he had for Grant, the endless well of warmth and want he had always had for him. He liked how they could slide from soft and sweet to something heavier and then right back. Nothing they’d had before had really prepared him for how he felt now, how easily he could respond to Grant’s hands and lips.

He liked the sound of his soft laughter, a soft slightly dopey smile threatening to take over his face. “Mmm, you like it,” he snickered softly as he shifted his head to give him room in encouraging invitation. “Do you want to stay right here for a little while? Or more comfort?”

He was beginning to think soft and sweet might be their resting heart rate, the default setting they returned to in between everything else, and that sounded like a good way to spend the rest of his life. He tried not to look too far ahead, but the immediate future looked a lot better with him in it.

"I do, in fact," he agreed, taking the invitation to press a line of soft kisses down his neck. He liked James teasing and laughing, but he'd yet to see a side of him he didn't like. He pulled away before the urge to do anything more could overwhelm him. Trying to keep his promise would not be helped by Grant's desire to keep flirting. He settled back, thumb stroking softly over his back. He was comfortable and didn't really want to lose the reassuring weight of James over him, but he did want him to get a decent night's sleep. "More comfort," he decided.

James already looked more forward to his future with Grant in it than he had for a while. It was easy to get caught on autopilot and not really pay attention to the future even as it continued to come closer. “Oh good, then I can keep it up,” he teased, trying to ignore the shivers those soft kisses caused. He was absolute putty for Grant and he was happy to be.

Part of him wanted to pout at the idea of moving, but wanting Grant to be equally comfortable mattered more. “More comfort it is,” he agreed softly, pushing up and taking his hands to pull him up with him. He could always just flop on him in bed anyway. At least that way, Grant was laying on something soft and comfortable and he could be a ridiculous human blanket again.

Thinking too far into the future got dangerous for him, even before he met James again. It was enough for him to focus on making his day to day life tolerable without the pressure of thinking about the rest of it. "I hope so," he murmured against his skin. Even if it tormented him a little, he was here for it.

He allowed James to pull him up and managed not to groan in protest. It was his idea to move, but Grant acknowledged that sometimes his ideas were really stupid. He turned off the tv and swiped his phone off the counter on the way to the bedroom, making sure his alarm was set for the morning before he set it aside and crawled into bed.

He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face at the quiet murmur against his skin. He would absolutely enjoy tormenting Grant but he would be entirely happy to be tormented by him if he was in the mood to do so. Though, true torment would be no intent to follow through, and that was something he could never subject either of them to in this.

Relaxed, he watched with soft eyes as Grant trailed through turning things off. He knew he would wake up with him, so didn’t bother with his own alarm as he trailed after him. When he crawled into bed, he waited a beat before crawling in after him and draping himself right back how he had been on the couch with a little sound of satisfaction.

He made grabby hands for him, pouting a little himself at the small hesitation. The only reason he'd been okay with getting up was because he knew he'd have him back in his arms shortly. It was a brief warning of how bad this was going to be for him when they did have to say goodbye. There was going to be a lot of reminding himself that he was an adult who didn't need a permanent boyfriend-shaped carry-on.

He made a happy sound when James collapsed against him again, arms wrapping around him and face snuggling into his hair. He pressed a kiss to the soft spot behind his ear, fingers tracing a light path through his hair. He'd never thought he'd get to hold him like this again. Twice in one night seemed almost too good to be true, but he wasn't questioning it for now. Better just to take good things as they were given to him, and deal with the bad the same way.

James was quite content to be turned into a permanent boyfriend backpack and never have to leave Grant’s side. He didn’t really ever want to have to say goodbye, however temporary, but he knew that was going to be their eventual reality. He loved the sight of that pout, but hated that he had put it there at all.

A soft shiver escaped him at the kiss behind his ear and he snuggled in with a happy noise. Twice in one night for cuddling like this was absolutely unheard of for him. He brushed his lips over his neck and shoulder softly, tucking his hands back under his shirt against his side. “One Jamie blank or,” he murmured quietly.

He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow's separation, but he also trusted that they'd manage it and still find ways to be close. Knowing he had reasons to be in contact with him all weekend was reassuring, as were their plans for Sunday. He told himself not to turn into that guy, the kind who only existed as half a relationship, but for now he wasn't going to worry too much about something that was making both of them happy.

"My favorite kind," he murmured back, lightly stroking the soft skin just beneath the edge of his shirt. It was better than a weighted blanket, and he was guessing just as good for anxiety. He felt relaxed and safe under the warmth of him, the soft touches and kisses reassuring him that he was there and this was real; he wasn't just going to vanish when he woke up.

He could never just go radio silent on Grant, especially not now. Songs, photos, text messages, they were all things he would fill his weekend with to share his life with him even though they weren’t together. He didn’t think either of them would turn into those people, they both led their own lives already and he would never ask him to give that up. They made one another happy, and they deserved to celebrate that, but they were both more than that.

“I’ll be your blanket any time you like,” he assured him. It was comforting for him as well, and it was so easy to sink into him. “I’ll be here, sweetheart, all night,” he reassured both of them that this wasn’t a dream. “We can have breakfast before you leave,” he suggested.

"Happy to return the favor." He smiled, glad to make himself available for cuddles at any time. The reassurance made his throat unexpectedly tight, with that uncanny ability James had to guess where his mind was. Grant had considered that maybe he'd snapped and was making all this up, but if that was the case, his mental breakdown was years too late. He didn't say anything, instead sliding both hands over his back beneath his shirt and wrapping his arms a little tighter around him.

His face dipped into the crook of his neck, and he pressed a soft kiss there. "I'd love to have breakfast with you." He thought it might ease the separation a bit, or at least give them time to wake up and adjust to the idea, much as he wanted James to get some proper rest. He hoped he'd be able to go back to sleep once he left if he needed to.

James had no way to be sure that he wasn't entirely out of his mind except for the warmth and firmness of Grant's body under him. He didn't think a mental break could be quite that real, especially not with anything he hadn't had before that night. His fingers slid so they were tucked under his sides, his thumbs brushing soft paths back and forth.

"Good, I can make sure you're okay before you leave," he murmured softly. It was important to him to know that Grant was okay and taken care of in any way that he could manage it. He knew he wouldn't leave before Grant did, not in a million years. "And it makes our time apart even less," he said, feeling a little triumphant over t.

"I'm better than okay," he assured him quietly, still warmed by the fact that James wanted to take care of him as much as Grant wanted to care for him. It looked like a lot of things: snuggles and soft kisses, making sure he got a decent meal or a good night's sleep, texing while they were apart, or just being there to share it when life got heavy. They'd both lived without it for a long time and knew it was possible. Grant just didn't want him to have to anymore.

His hands stroked a lazy path in response. He was probably incapable of stopping it at this point. Touching him was as natural as breathing. He hummed softly in amusement, unable to help a smile. "I see your master scheme now," he teased. He wasn't sure who was more guilty of trying to get more time with each other. More fun that it was a team effort, anyway.

"I would like to keep you that way," the admission was soft and accompanied by a soft kiss to his neck again. He'd lived so long without someone there caring for him or for him to care for that he wasn't sure he'd find a way to mess it up eventually. He just had a visceral need to take care of Grant that he couldn't, and didn't want to, shake.

The soft touches made him sigh happily and snuggle closer as though it would get him more of them. He liked hearing him amused and happy and it made him smile against his skin before picking himself up just enough to look at his face. "Yep, big plans right here," he smiled slowly before leaning in to kiss him softly.

He shivered slightly under his lips and the soft, earnest way he said that. If James thought he wasn't very good at being romantic, he was wrong. Grant could think of few things more romantic than I want to take care of you and meaning it. It wasn't something he could have understood at nineteen, but he understood it now. "Me too, sweetheart," he whispered.

Snuggling closer would always get him more pets. He pressed soft kisses against his hair, his hand tracing a lazy path up and down his spine. "I don't mind as long as I'm part of them." He couldn't do anything but smile back. He was so goddamn adorable it was practically a crime. He tipped his head into the kiss, soft and lingering.

He was already addicted to the feeling of Grant's hands running through his hair, the soft kisses there, all of it. He wanted to arch into the hand leaving soft trails of heat over his spine, but he also wanted to press closer. It was a ridiculous conundrum he found himself in but didn't want to not have.

Lingering over that soft kiss was sweet and he never wanted it to end. He did pull back just enough to talk, his lips brushing his still slightly. "Baby, you're all of my plans," he admitted, his voice a little husky with it.

Physical touch was a cornerstone they'd both been without for a while. He'd let himself forget how much he needed the soft brushes of hands on skin or the warm weight of another body next to him. He thought he could easily spend the rest of his life just holding James close, trading soft kisses, and talking about nothing, which was somehow everything.

It was hard not to chase his lips this time even though he didn't go far. He couldn't tell if it was his voice when he said it, or the baby because his pet names had always had a way of melting Grant from the inside, or the way he knew James meant everything that he said, but the words sent a hot slide of heat down his spine. He freed one of his hands to slide it into his hair, letting a little more heat into it as he caught his lips in another kiss.

There was no way he would ever be able to keep himself from responding so readily to Grant, especially not like this. A rough groan was punched out of him from the heat in this new kiss, returning it in equal measure. His hands slid firmly under him to spread across his back, loving the weight of him pressed between him and the bed.

He pulled back out of the kiss just enough to nip at his bottom lip lightly, a scrape of teeth over that all too tempting swell. He pressed back into another kiss, sliding deeper and adding more heat because he needed Grant to know how much he felt for him. He couldn't keep it to himself, not in these soft moments that were all theirs and so easily committed to memory.

James moaning into his mouth was enough to wreck what was left of his train of thought, all of his remaining focus narrowing to the lips on his and the warmth of the man in his arms. It was devastating how he seemed to read exactly what he wanted and offer it without hesitating. Grant never wanted him to have to hide his feelings, good or bad.

His hands tightened slightly, holding him close as he melted into the kiss. He shivered at the soft scrape of teeth, nails running lightly over his scalp in encouragement as he pressed hungrily back into the kiss. A soft, needy sound escaped him at the slow, deep heat of it. He wanted to kiss him and keep kissing him, to sink into him and never resurface.

James never would have claimed to be able to just tell what Grant wanted, but he knew what he wanted himself and could only ever hope it aligned with Grant's wants and needs. He would never hesitate to offer anything of himself to him, his care, his heart, this was the easiest to give him.

He loved feeling those clever hands tightening and the way he shivered under him. Between the scrape of nails and that sound, he was lost and there was no real active thought. The kiss sank deeper, his hand sliding up his back to slip his fingers into the hair at the back of his head to tip it just enough to plunder just that much deeper. He would drown in this, let himself stay under, there was already nothing in the world but them, but this.

There was nothing he wanted more right now than exactly what he had, and that was James kissing him like the world started and ended with the two of them. The regret of pulling away from him that first time still hadn't completely left him, and he'd promised himself it would never happen again. He wanted everything that James offered so freely; he would take it and keep it safe.

He moaned softly when he tilted his head for a new angle, and he couldn't stop the way he melted completely under him. His fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close while that clever mouth took him apart. There was no end goal or ulterior motive, neither of them trying to take it any further. James's mouth was a whole world by itself, and he'd be content just to kiss him for the rest of the night.

James's world did start and end with the two of them when they were together. Everything and everyone else was extra. So softly, and so willingly, he handed everything he was into Grant's hands, trust him with it and hoping he would treasure it. A part of him knew that he would, that his was wholly mutual on nearly every level, but he couldn't help but hold that hope in place.

All he wanted was to kiss Grant until they both forgot anything else, until everything was narrowed down to just that. He wanted to feel that soft, sweet surrender of him that was made all the better because it was for him. The soft, pliant heat of him made him groan softly because it was better than anything he could have imagined.

Grant was only too happy to reorient his world with James at the center. It felt right, as though something that had long been off balance had settled into place. It had always been that way with him though. He knew that they both had the ability to damage the other beyond repair if they didn't move carefully with this, but he trusted that in James's hands was the best possible place for his heart. Grant had to trust that he could keep his safe as well, that he could protect James even from his own sharp edges.

But there was no room for worry about that right now. All his finer thinking had been abandoned in favor of soft lips and hands and the gentle heat building between them. If he wanted surrender, then he had it. Grant was relaxed and yielding under him as long as he didn't stop. His fingers traced out the soft contours of his back while hot, languorous kisses started a slow fire in him set to burn away every last doubt.

James would have happily spent all night until the sun came up kissing Grant. The driving need for both of them to properly rest eventually took over, though, and after a (long) while, he slowly pulled back and soothed them both with soft touches and equally soft looks. Staying settled over him, it was easy to let sleep take over.

The sound of an alarm clock made him groan and bury his face. There was a brief pause when it wasn’t his pillow he was trying to burrow into. Instead, a comforting and familiar smell and warmth met him and he smiled softly. He seemed to have done his best octopus impression in his sleep and he gently tightened his limbs. “Morning,” he rumbled out quietly, voice sleep rough and low.

He kissed him until there were no thoughts left that weren't James, and then a little longer. He didn't protest when they settled into cuddles and soft touches. He wanted James to get some sleep, and it wouldn't be a terrible idea for him either. He was surprised by how quickly he drifted off though, soothed by the warm weight of his body over him.

Grant was awake before his alarm, a terrible habit he had, but with James octopused around him, he couldn't reach his phone to turn it off without disturbing him. Waking him would defeat the purpose, so he stayed where he was and enjoyed his warmth and the soft sound of his breathing until it went off. "Morning, sweetheart," he murmured, arms tightening around him and face snuggling into his hair.

This was a way he could get very used to waking up, frighteningly quickly. He wanted it to be his new normal, to hear that voice first thing in the morning before he even chose to open his eyes. He brushed a soft kiss to his neck and shoulder with a content hum, releasing one arm from his hold to brush down his side.

“How did you sleep?” He lifted up his head to look at that much adored face with a soft expression. His lips brushed over his jaw gently, a gentle show of affection that he was happy to be able to do.

He liked everything about waking up with James in his bed, but there was nothing about the past twelve hours he wouldn't want to repeat on a daily basis. It was exactly the kind of life he wanted to build with him. Much as he hated to leave today, it made him warm to think he had someone he didn't want to leave, someone to come home to.

"Good. You?" Better than he'd expected to. He closed his eyes under the soft kisses, running a hand idly down his back. The soft look on his face when he opened his eyes stole his breath for a moment, and he lightly brushed fingers down the side of his face. "You're beautiful," he murmured. He wanted to wake up to this every morning and fall asleep in his arms every night.

He lifted a hand to brush through all that soft blonde hair, already addicted to the sight of him in the morning. “Probably the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time,” he admitted against soft skin. Sleep wasn’t something that often came easily, so he knew to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

He leaned into that soft brush of fingers, his eyes fluttering slightly. “So are you. Officially my favorite thing to wake up to,” he said softly. He couldn’t wait for this to be their daily life, to fall asleep and wake up together, to share all the moments small and large.

"I'm glad." He smiled, happy to know that James felt comfortable enough here not just to sleep but to sleep well. Grant knew he wasn't a cure for insomnia, or anything else, but he was grateful for anything that helped even a little. He tipped his head into that touch, all but purring like a cat.

"I was just thinking I want to do this all the time," he admitted softly. He stroked the side of his face again before fingers slid into his hair in the soft pets he seemed to love so much. This part was kind of new. They'd never reached the point where they got to live together, and any mornings he got to wake up next to him were rarer than he'd liked. Being an adult wasn't always fun, but there were so many downsides to being a teenager.

He scratched his nails lightly across his scalp as he kept up the soft brushes through his hair, enjoying the sight of him like that. Grant could fix a lot of things for him, and he knew it, but he didn't want to put him in the position of thinking it was his lot in life. He was so much more than that, always had been.

"I do too," he admitted in return, knowing they wouldn't keep themselves from it too often now. His eyes finally fluttered shut and he definitely pushed into the hand stroking through his hair. If he had to choose one favorite display of affection that wasn't kisses or anything of that vein, that was it. He could vividly remember the times they got to wake up together, and there weren't many. This was an advantage to adulthood.

He made a soft, contented sound at the touch. He would fix everything for James if he could, even though he knew that relationships didn't work like that. He could do this much though, and more, to make sure he was loved and cared for. It wasn't a fix for everything, but it had a way of making the hard parts a little more bearable.

It continued to amaze him how effortlessly they seemed to be on the same page so far. They'd clicked immediately when they were younger too, but Grant would have said it was impossible as an adult. He would have been wrong. He continued the soft pets, tipping his head up to brush a few light kisses against his neck. He could see them both easily getting distracted if mornings like this became a habit.

He wanted to be the cause of more sounds like that, knowing he made him that relaxed and happy. They were both going to have to work on the art of give and take, but he had a feeling they would figure it out. It would make everything better for both of them in the long run if they could.

His breath hitched at the soft kisses and he tipped his head to give him room for more. Morning distractions seemed like the most perfect thing to him if they were caused by Grant. A soft hiss of air through his teeth was all he had before he rolled them over so he could look up at Grant with soft eyes. "You're the best thing I've ever seen," he admitted, his hand trailing through his hair again.

No relationship was without its problems, but he thought they were doing alright working through them so far. They both wanted to handle them together, and that was a start. Grant had opened up more to him in the past week than anyone else in the past three years, or longer.

He couldn't help a soft laugh as they switched places, and he settled himself more firmly over him, deciding he liked it here just as well. "I think your bar is a little low," he teased, but it was obvious by the way he bit his lip on a smile that he was touched by the comment. He ran a hand up his side over his shirt and dipped his head to press soft kisses to his neck the way he'd been doing before he was so rudely interrupted.

The sound of that laugh made his chest even warmer than it already felt at his wakeup. His arm wrapped firmly around his waist, holding him flush to him as the other stayed in his hair. "No, sweetheart, it's awfully high, you're just that damn beautiful," he pointed out, leaning up to brush a kiss over the corner of his mouth softly before laying back down.

When the kisses continued, he tipped his head for him again to give him all the room he could want. He didn't want him to go on his trip, but he refused to be the clingy boyfriend when Grant was doing what he needed to do for his career. He knew it would be a weekend full of photos, music, text messages, and that he would see him in just a few days. For now, he was going to be greedy and soak up all of the attention he could.

Morning or not, there were moments with him where he felt like he was seventeen again. Laughing with him and being a little silly, James being sweet and too charming by half, and Grant feeling tongue-tied by his flirting was definitely one of them. He hummed happily into the kiss, pressing his palm against the warmth of his skin at his side.

"Sweetest man alive," he murmured against his skin. He continued the soft trail of kisses down his neck and then forced himself to pull back before he was tempted to do more. He didn't want to tease him too badly knowing that he didn't have time to follow through on it. He tucked an arm under his chin instead, gazing down at that adored face. "I need to shower, and then breakfast?"

Anything he could do to make him happy, to make him feel loved and appreciated, he was going to do. "Why are you talking about yourself?" He said the question teasingly, but he couldn't help but think how Grant was the sweetest person he had ever known. He would admit to bias, but it didn't change anything.

His hand continued its trail through his hair, nails leaving their trail against his scalp as he looked at him. "I'll start breakfast while you shower," he decided on a soft murmur, giving a good soft scritch just behind his ear.

He laughed softly and let it go because he wasn't going to win a most charming fight with James Lane. It was also bad manners to keep brushing off compliments, even if he didn't agree with them. There was a time and place for self-deprecation, and it wasn't in bed with his cute boyfriend. Or whatever. They hadn't really clarified past dating, but he liked the sound of it.

He tipped his head into that touch, and then leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to do that. Stay and rest. We can do something quick." He knew full well that James was going to do whatever he wanted, and nothing Grant said was going to change that. But it was good to lay the options out anyway. He kissed him again and reluctantly slid off him.

He tipped his face up into that soft kiss, a soft smile filling his face. "Uh huh, sure," the words were obviously placating, because there was no way he wanted to stay in bed if Grant wasn't in it with him at this point. He appreciated the out, the blatant expression that he wasn't expected to do anything but be there.

As he slid off him, James pouted slightly and shifted to the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he stood and snagged him, pulling him close with a small smirk. He wrapped his arms carefully before tipping him low and kissing him deep and slow for a moment before righting both of them and giving him another soft quick kiss. "Enjoy your shower," he murmured before stepping away and going to the kitchen.

"Uh huh," he echoed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He recognized the placation, but he didn't argue further. James made his own choices, and it wasn't a surprise he picked the sweet one. Grant didn't make it far before he was pulling him close again, and he went easily back into his arms. That kiss was at odds with the silliness of the gesture, and he didn't know whether to laugh or go weak-kneed when they straightened back up. He ended up somewhere in the middle.

Only the fact that he had to be somewhere on time kept him from tugging him back in again and describing what would really make his shower enjoyable. There wasn't time this morning for everything he wanted to do to him, so he just watched until he vanished through the door and then tried to set himself back on track. He kept the shower quick and dressed before heading out to the kitchen.

If he hadn't walked away, he would have been tempted to make Grant very very late, but he never wanted to do that to him. It was better for him to walk away and do what he could to make sure he ate and was taken care of. He was glad he had helped him cook last night, so he had an idea of where most things were to make cooking easier on himself.

It was quick work to get coffee and omelettes working, loaded with vegetables and cheese. When he saw Grant come back out, he smiled easily and went to meet him. "Feel better?" His eyes drifted over his face, pleased to see how well-rested he looked.

He went right for James like a magnet, wrapping his arms around him and brushing a soft kiss over his lips. "I feel great." Except for the fact that he had to leave, he felt better than he had in days, and that was mediated by knowing they'd still get to talk. "How are you?" He pulled back enough to study his face, looking for signs that he needed more rest, but his eyes weren't as shadowed as yesterday and he looked happy.

He didn't move out of the circle of his arms, but his gaze flicked to the stove. It smelled amazing, and James cooking in his kitchen made him unreasonably happy. He hadn't just made him breakfast; he'd kind of insisted on it, and Grant knew he was smiling like an idiot. "Anything I can help with?"

He went happily into the circle of his arms, wrapping his arms around his waist and tucking himself close as he tipped his face up to meet his kiss. "Good, I'm glad," he smiled with a gentle squeeze of his arms. One good night of rest could do a lot, and he knew he needed more but he was already better than he'd been the day before. "I'm great, baby," he reassured him, brushing a soft kiss along his jaw.

Watching his face, he was indescribably happy at being able to take care of him, to cook for him. He wanted to keep that look on his face as often as he could. "You could pour our coffee," he chuckled, brushing a soft kiss over the corner of that beautiful smile. "Black for me, please."

He loved how easily James fit against him, like he was meant to be there, and he let himself relax into that embrace. He was having another brief moment of this can't be my life. It looked so different from this time yesterday that it was like being dropped into a pleasant dream he didn't want to wake up from. "Good," he murmured, tightening his arms around him.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching up to run fingers through his hair. He stole another soft, lingering kiss, because it seemed like a crime to not kiss him whenever possible, before moving away to pour coffee into two mugs. Grant only drank it if there were at least two other things in it making it taste less like coffee, so they were easy to tell apart as he brought them to the table.

His head tilted into that sweet touch and didn’t want it to stop, but he knew he had food on the stove and they had to get moving for Grant to be on time. It was natural to meet every kiss he decided to give, hoarding them away to get him through the next few days. Somehow he had stumbled into a whole new life in a week and he didn’t want it to disappear on him.

He wanted this to be their normal, to be able to take care of Grant and be taken care of in return, because he knew he would be. His fingers brushed along him as they separated and he finished their breakfast as he made their coffee. It was quick work to flip the omelettes onto their plates and top them. Grabbing forks, he carried the plates to the table and set them down, leaning to kiss him softly before sitting in his own seat.

He took a seat while James finished the cooking and let himself enjoy the sight of him in his kitchen. He moved through it like he'd been there a hundred times. Grant wanted him to belong here, in his apartment, in his life. "Thank you for breakfast." He tipped his head up to meet the kiss and reluctantly let him slide away to sit. He was still behaving himself, but it was getting more difficult all the time.

He picked up his fork and started on his food. He couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for him, and if he thought for too long about the care James offered so easily, he was going to lose what was left of his heart. "This is amazing." He'd yet to try any of James's cooking that wasn't.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smiled softly, brushing a hand through his hair as he moved away because he couldn’t help himself. He loved being able to do those small things, make him breakfast and pet his hair, all before their day had even properly started. It was all too easy to picture this being their life every day and he wanted it so much it was an ache in his soul, but he could handle that.

James wasn’t able to care for Grant half as much as he wanted to, but all that would come with time, he knew. “Good. It will get you to lunch,” he said firmly in that way that said ‘you’re going to eat lunch for me today’ without actually saying it. He sipped on his coffee and took the simple pleasure of watching Grant for a moment, committing it to memory like a Polaroid.

Grant wanted to be able to give him this life, and everything else he wanted. Last week, he would have said he wasn't suited for it, that happy domestic life wasn't in the cards for him anymore. He'd made his peace with that around the time of the divorce. They weren't trying to fix it, there were no second chances, and he wouldn't even fit in that life anymore, not really. He wouldn't have imagined any of this for himself because he hadn't believed it was possible.

He huffed a quiet laugh at the not-quite-command. Unless he wasn't getting out of bed at all, Grant could usually manage two meals in a day. Three was sometimes asking a lot if he was absorbed in his work, but he could try if that made him happy. It wasn't like New York was short on great food options. "And you. Pictures or it didn't happen," he teased, gently nudging his knee beneath the table.

James wanted what would work for both of them, what would bring both of them some peace and happiness. It might not be the happy domesticity all the time because it wouldn’t suit them all the time. He liked to think it would though, if given the real chance. He had never even had the chance at it, but he knew that it had been part of Grant’s life and he wasn’t sure if it was wanted again or not.

James didn’t care so much about three meals a day, he more cared that he was taking care of himself and eating when he was hungry. A soft laugh escaped him and he nudged him back softly. “Promise to eat when I’m awake, sweetheart,” he assured him.

There was no going back. They both knew that. Whatever they were building together, it was something new that would fit the people they were now. He wasn't sure, yet, what that included, but he knew it was the first time in years he was even thinking about that kind of life. He nodded, accepting that. James was a grown man, and he'd taken care of himself all this time. He didn't need Grant hovering over him.

Breakfast was finished sooner than he would have liked, and he knew he was running out of time to stall. He couldn't be very bitter about it when he'd already stolen a whole extra night of his time, and would likely have more of it. He caught his hand and kissed it as he stood up to take their plates to the sink and start cleaning up.

There was no point in trying to draw breakfast out because he knew they were in a timeline. He had been greedy enough when he had agreed to stay last night. But stolen hours weren’t enough, would never be enough when it came to Grant. He knew he would get more soon, but it felt so far away. That was how he knew he was truly sunk.

His breath caught at the soft kiss to his hand and he watched him all the way til he got to the sink before he got up. Walking into the kitchen, he slipped up behind him and wrapped his arm around his waist, plastering himself against his back and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

He didn't want just stolen hours with James. He felt greedy for time with him, as much as he could get without suffocating him or abandoning adult responsibilities or both. They'd already lost fifteen years and seemed to have come to the mutual agreement that they weren't wasting anymore.

He wrapped an arm over his and practically melted against him, a soft shiver running through him at the kiss. He reached back with his free hand, running a hand through his hair. "It's only a day, and I still hate leaving you," he admitted. It was already obvious how attached he was, so Grant didn't think he had anything to lose where that was concerned.

When that hand slid through his hair, he absolutely was lost and tightened his hold slightly. His lips brushed softly over the back of his neck, just letting him know he was still there. “I hate you leaving too,” he admitted softly, scraping his teeth lightly.

His arms tightened lightly and he brushed his lips over the soft skin of his neck again. “I’ll be here when you get home, sweetheart,” he assured him. “Let me know when you’re home and when you want me to get here.” He knew he would be waiting for him, ready to be there the moment he was summoned.

He tightened his hold on him and bit back a moan at the soft brush of lips and teeth, James's body a solid line of warmth at his back. This was no time to get weak over him, but he'd always been able to strip away his defenses so easily. Not helped by the fact that Grant didn't even want to fight it.

"It'll be late tomorrow. I don't want to wake you." He badly wanted James to be here when he got home--or Grant could always go to him--but sleep was hard enough for him to come by. He wasn't going to selfishly wake him at all hours of the night just because he'd suddenly become codependent.

James let out a rumble of discontent, his eyebrows furrowing as he turned Grant in his arms. "Baby," he said, his tone slightly warning but definitely firm, "If you want me to meet you here, then here is where I am going to be." There was nothing that would change his mind on that because he had nowhere he would rather be.

His hand slid up into his hair, nails scratching lightly as he leaned in to kiss him softly. "I always want to be where you need me," he admitted softly. There was no way he would rest peacefully without him or knowledge he was okay anyway,

He turned easily, leaning back against the counter and pulling James in close. Grant knew he needed to get more comfortable asking for what he wanted, but it was going to take time to break the habit of trying not to need anything from other people. It was nice when they offered, but for the most part he couldn't count on it. He already trusted James to be there for him; he just wasn't used to asking.

It was the softer follow-up that did him in. He was so sweet it was actually painful sometimes. That someone who had lost as much as James had could still be kind blew his mind a little. He pressed into the kiss, soft and lingering, breaking it only to kiss along his jaw, fingers sliding into his hair. "Then I want you here, or I'll come to you," he murmured. One night without him sounded far more manageable.

He didn't mind shifting close to him, pressing himself against the long length of his body with a content hum. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted, but he knew how to offer what he wanted Grant to have from him. He always wanted to be there for him, to be the person he knew would always be there at the start and end of the day.

His head tipped to let him have access to his jawline with a quiet sound of need. "Then I will be here," he assured him quietly, one hand sliding up his back to tangle into his hair. "Let me know when you're half an hour out, so I can be here." He wanted nothing more than to be here when he got home, to comfort him and help him settle back in.

The quiet, hateful voice in his head said he hadn't done anything to deserve someone as good to him as James was. The more logical one said that deserving had nothing to do with it. People didn't get what they deserved. They just did the best they could with what they were given, or they didn't. As long as James wanted to be here, he was keeping him as close as he could.

"I will." Teeth scraped lightly over his jaw before he soothed it with a kiss. He wanted to do a lot more than that, but not minutes before he had to leave. That wasn't fair to either of them, and he was going to have a hard enough time walking out the door. He drifted back to his lips, catching him in another soft kiss.

James knew that they both had a lot to work through when it came to what they thought they deserved or needed, and he was determined to prove that he was going to be there regardless. He wanted to be there, at Grant's side and watching his back, knowing he was protected and cared for.

"Good," he groaned out softly, the soft scrape of teeth making him shiver and press closer. He took the soft kiss and slowly backed Grant into the wall before deepening it fiercely. His hands settled themselves into his hair so he could tip his head just right to kiss him in a way he would remember until he came home. Slowly, he let him surface and softened the kiss, brushing his lips along his jaw when he finally broke away. "Go, do awesome things like I know you do... and come home to me," he murmured.

His breath caught when his back hit the wall, James's body a solid line of heat trapping him there. He sank into the kiss with a soft moan at the way he knew exactly how to deepen it so that he'd be thinking about him for the rest of the day, his hands making fists in the back of his shirt to draw him close and keep him there.

He was breathless when he pulled away, but nothing hit as hard as those last four words. It had been a very long time since he had someone to come home to, and the fact that it was James felt like grace. He managed to pull himself together enough to move away from the wall because if he didn't leave now, he wasn't sure he could be trusted to do it at all. He paused long enough to dig a key out of the drawer for him, pressing it into his palm as he leaned in to kiss him goodbye. If James beat him here tomorrow, he didn't want him stuck outside waiting. "Send me a playlist? I'll see you tomorrow."

James always wanted to be part of what Grant had to come home to, to be part of that softness that welcomed him home to relax and unwind. He barely managed to keep himself from pouting when he shifted away, watching him because he knew it was time. The key being pressed into his hand was a surprise that he couldn't keep his throat from tightening against.

"I'll clean up here," he assured him, his hand closing around the key like it was something precious to him, and it was. He wanted him to keep on with his successful career and continue to drive forward. "I'll have one to you very soon," he promised him, leaning to meet the kiss with a soft nip. "I'll see you before you know it, sweetheart," he reassured him, not liking that he was leaving but understanding why.

#chat: james #morethanabattlescar #delicate

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adhd-wifi · 5 years

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MDZS and the Legends of Hou Yi

So just for fun, I wanted to talk about how much the tales of Hou Yi, a famous figure in Chinese legends, is referrenced in the story of MDZS. I’m pretty confident that MXTX is quite the fan of this particular story. (Note: There are multiple versions of this tale, and I went with the one that had most ties with MDZS, which, coincidentally, happened to be the version I personally grew up with, with one or two minor differences.)

This post took me 6 hours.

The Legend:

Back when the world was still new, there were ten brilliant suns in the sky, children of the Heavenly Sun Emperor Di Jun. They took turns illuminating the sky, bringing light and warmth to the mortal world below. However, the ten suns were still children, and despite their father’s strict instructions of only allowing one of them into the skies at a time, they all went out together one day to play together.

The mortal world suffered from their game, the blinding light and unbearable heat killing crops and livestock and causing the people immense suffering. Seeing this suffering, the great immortal archer Hou Yi climbed to the top of a great mountain, armed with exactly ten arrows in his quiver, and spoke one final warning to the suns, asking that they return home peacefully. But when they did not heed his warning, Hou Yi drew his divine bow, letting loose nine arrows made of dragon bone towards the heavens. One by one, nine suns were struck, each of them falling dead to the Earth as blood red crows bearing three legs. With one arrow left in his quiver, however, Hou Yi chose to spare the last sun so the world would not fall into icy darkness. The last sun promised to behave, fearful of the archer who shot down his brothers. The mortal world declared Hou Yi a hero and their saviour.

Di Jun, however, was furious at the deaths of nine of his children, and so he cast Hou Yi and his wife, Chang'E, from the heavens, stripping them of their immortality.

Seeking a way to return them to the heavens and relieve the feelings of grief felt by his dear wife, Hou Yi sought out the help of Xi Wang Mu, Mother Queen of the West, who was known for having created the Elixir of Immortality. Xi Wang Mu took pity on Hou Yi, and also recognized his heroic deeds in shooting down the suns despite knowing there were consequences, and thus, she gave him her last bottle of Elixir. She warned him, however, that the elixir was too strong for any single mortal, and it must be shared between him and his wife.

Overjoyed, Hou Yi returned home, hiding the elixir in hopes of surprising his wife with it. He told her that the 15th day of the Eight Lunar Month would be a special day, for he planned to share the elixir with her on that day, and ascend back to the heavens together under the light of the beautiful full moon.

However, others had heard of the elixir the famous fallen hero had managed to obtain. Greedy with the thought of ascending to immortality themselves, they stalked Hou Yi home and overheard what he told his wife. So they planned an ambush on the promised night, when Hou Yi left to go hunting for a special feast. They attacked Hou Yi under the moonlight, killing him and then raiding their home. They tried to force Chang’E to give them what they wanted, but Chang’E refused to give it up to her husband’s killers. To ensure they never got their hands on it, Chang’E drank the entire elixir. True to Xi Wang Mu’s words, it was too strong for one person, and she was immediately cast into the skies, forced to leave her husband behind without even saying goodbye. She then decided to live on the moon, the closest she could to the Earth, where her husband was, her only companion the Jade Rabbit of the Moon.

References to the Legend in Mo Dao Zu Shi:

The Wen Sect & the Ten Suns

The Wen Sect represent the Ten Suns, who enjoyed their lives and did what they wanted at the expense of others

Though we don’t meet all of them, there are exactly ten named (sort of) characters bearing the name Wen

Wen Mao

Wen RuoHan

Wen Chao

Wen Xu

Wen ZhuLiu

Wen Qing

Wen Ning

Granny Wen

Uncle Four

Wen Yuan

Note: While not explicitly stated, Granny Wen & Uncle Four were only ever considered part of the sect, so it’s fair to assume that they were in fact surnamed Wen

Out of those ten Wen Sect members, only one was alive by the end of the story, Wen Yuan (Wen Ning was technically dead)

The Wen Sect as a whole is said to be bad at archery, and they were furious upon losing an archery competition where missing a shot disqualifies them (Hou Yi only had ten arrows, at first planning to shoot them all down, and couldn't afford to miss a shot or the world could've been left with more than one sun)

The indoctrination can be seen as a metaphor for the suns playing and exerting their power harmfully over the mortal world

The Wen Sect primarily resorted to burning and fire, the element most associated with the sun

The name of QiShan Wen’s residence is 不夜天城 (bù yè tiān chéng), (overly) literally translated, “No Night Sky Palace”, AKA Nightless City. With the Ten Suns in the sky, night could not fall

Wang LingJiao took the shooting of a sun-like kite as justification for her accusations of the Jiang Sect going against the Wen Sect

It was specifically the child of the Wen Sect Leader, Wen Chao, that led the attack on Lotus Pier, like how the Ten Suns were the children of the actual Sun Emperor

Also on a narrative note, both the Ten Suns and Wen Chao had larger roles in the overall story compared to their fathers, despite their fathers playing key roles as well

The first Wen Sect member to take Wei WuXian’s side, which ultimately led to Wei WuXian & Jiang Cheng surviving the massacre of Jiang Sect, was Wen Ning, the only notably skilled archer of the Wen Sect

On a similar note, Wei WuXian, who was the considered a hero and major player in the fall of the Wen Sect, was also the winner of the archery competition

This means two skilled archers were heavily responsible for the Wens losing the war in the long run, albeit somewhat indirectly

The Sunshot Campaign is literally named the Sunshot Campaign and was in fact directly and explicitly referencing the legend of a great hero shooting down the sun in canon (meaning the story of Hou Yi exists as a legend or fairytale in MDZS canon, nice!)

Wei WuXian, who is the Hou Yi of MDZS and a hero in the war against the Wens, is represented by a crow in official promos for the animation, and when the suns were shot down, they turned into red crows with three legs (this one could be pure coincidence since crows are also just seen as symbols of death in general and he controls the dead)

The Golden Core, The Yin Tiger Seal, and the Elixir of Immortality

Since golden cores are seen as necessary to cultivate, and cultivation leads to immortality, they are what represent the elixir in MDZS

Wen ZhuLiu, a Wen Sect member, having the ability to destroy golden cores could be seen as referencing how Di Jun took away Hou Yi and Chang’E’s immortality in retaliation for shooting down the suns

Jiang Cheng into going up a mountain to meet BaoShan Sanren to restore his golden core is similar to how Hou Yi sought out Xi Wang Mu to restore their immortality

On a related note, MDZS’s version of Xi Wang Mu is both BaoShan Sanren and Wen Qing combined, BaoShan Sanren playing the role of the immortal figure to give the golden core, and Wen Qing taking on her identity while being the one to actually give it through the experimental surgery

After getting the elixir however, it became more similar to the Yin Tiger Seal instead, being sought after by hostile people who were willing to kill Wei WuXian for it, all for personal reasons (Fuck you Jin Sect)

Wei WuXian hiding the golden core transfer from Jiang Cheng can be seen as similar to how Hou Yi initially hid the elixir from Chang’E, though Hou Yi always planned to tell her about it unlike Wei WuXian

In an alternate version of the tale, Chang’E was suspicious of Hou Yi’s secrecy with the elixir after subconsciously blaming him for their immortality taken away (Hou Yi may or may not have told her about his task, depending on what version of this alternate version you read), thus peeking inside the hidden box while he was away on a hunt. When he returned, she panicked over betraying his trust and drank the whole thing. This alternate version can be seen as similar to how Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure whether to trust Wei WuXian or not after the events of the Sunshot Campaign, and his inability to trust his “former” brother heavily contributed to their separation. I mean if Wei WuXian & Hou Yi had just talked to their loved ones in these versions of their stories they would’ve had a little less problems but what’s an ancient Chinese dramatic tale without miscommunication am I right?

WangXian and Hou Yi & Chang’E

Both Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi share aspects of Hou Yi and Chang’E’s individual sides of their stories in MDZS

Lan WangJi, like Chang’E, wasn’t present during his loved one’s confrontation with the Wen Sect (”the Suns”)

Lan WangJi is also associated with the moon in some official art and his robes are always white and resemble “mourning robes”. This ties into Chang’E being the goddess of the moon and being known to wear white, some believing she does so in mourning the loss of her husband who remained on Earth

In contrast, Wei WuXian is more associated with the sun narratively, having fought the Wen Sect during a major turning point in his life, then lived as family with the Wen Remnants and always having something red in his otherwise dark outfits (his ribbon). This ties in with Hou Yi’s involvement with the Ten Suns in general

Side note: Lan WangJi wore clothing that was more typical of a non-combatant (long, flowy hanfu-looking robes), like Chang’E, who was a dancer never saw the battlefield. Wei WuXian tended to wear clothes more typical of an active combatant (pre-Yiling Patriarch at least) with narrow sleeves and trousers, similar to the portrayals of traditional archers such as Hou Yi. He no longer wears such attire in Mo XuanYu’s body. (CQL not counted for this point)

WangXian’s representative animal is the rabbit, specifically the two rabbits Wei WuXian gifted Lan WangJi. Chang’E’s main (sometimes only) companion on the moon is the Jade Rabbit

On a related note, the Lan Sect is the one that keeps the rabbits, and the Lan Sect happens to be the Sect most associated with jade ornaments, even though the other sects have them as well

Like Chang’E, Wei WuXian was unwilling to give his assailants the Yin Tiger Seal, choosing instead to ensure they could never have it, but by destroying the seal (”drinking the elixir”) he ended up being separated from his loved ones in the mortal world, in his case by dying

Also, part of his decision to do this was driven by the grief of losing someone he loved, though in his case it was Jiang YanLi instead of his future husband

In an alternate version of the tale where Hou Yi survived the ambush, or the version where Chang’E betrays his trust, Hou Yi becomes violent and cruel, going from a worshipped hero to a hated tyrant. This alternate version can relate to both Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. Wei WuXian was a hero of the Sunshot Campaign, but became hated after the war was over (though he did so by sticking to his personal morals). Lan WangJi turned against his sect and the cultivation world despite his reputation as a righteous man because he feared losing the man he loved, then upon losing Wei WuXian he lost himself in his grief, especially notable in his drunken rampage where he branded himself with the Wen branding iron

Also related to the alternate versions in which Hou Yi lived, like Hou Yi, Lan WangJi was left on the mortal surface without his love, who had gone to a non-mortal plane of existence and was unable to even communicate with him

Hou Yi and Chang’E, post-separation, are sometimes associated with the concept of Yin-Yang, representing the “opposites” of Earth and Heaven respectively, connected by love. WangXian is similar, having started as opposing personality types with shared ideals, then their relationship became that of love by the end of the story. (WangXian is also more visually representative of Yin-Yang, with their black and white clothing respectively)

Welp this got so long LMAO. Anyways this was still really fun to do, especially since I personally really like this story, since it was one of the stories I was told growing up (it’s not my favourite exactly, tiny-baby-me got mad at the Jade Emperor a lot, but one of them). Hope this was just as fun to read lol.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs meta #hou yi #chang'e #chinese legends #chinese things #my metas #my posts #my ramblings #btw i said jade emperor in the last point because growing up i heard the version where the sun emperor was the jade emperor instead #i found out about di jun several years later

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

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an interview with @changingthefairy-tale

What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.

Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.

What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)

Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)

that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)

Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)

Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)

What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.

BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.

My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.

Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.

What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!

Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!

#bellarkefic for blm #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #john murphy #bellarke #bellarkefic for blm interviews

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mcudarklibrary · 5 years

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Author of the Month Q&A: March

JT was at the top of our list of authors to showcase for AotM. Warm, kind and humble, she is someone we admire and look up to.

We recently caught up with this fabulous author to discuss all things dark fics and MCU.

Any cute history behind your username?

I use the initials JT often. I added Targaryen because I’m a huge fan of Game of Thrones and my hair turned white just before I turned 30 (runs in the family) and it’s an inside joke with friends of mine. I personally would choose to be a Lannister but I would love to have a dragon lol The 18 is because I started my Tumblr blog in 2018.

How long have you been writing fics of any kind?

I’ve been writing since I was a kid. I don’t have siblings so I read a lot, especially in the winter when I was stuck indoors. After reading everything I could get my hands on, I started writing stories. I asked for notebooks for birthdays and holidays and filled them with these crazy, wild stories. I still have a couple of them. Lol By the time I was 19, I decided to try to write to publish and eventually I did publish with three small press publishers. Two of them are still around and I still write for them under a pen name.

What was the first fan fic you ever wrote?

After reading fan fics for years, and I’d been all about the MCU fandom for a couple of years, I wrote Pyramania. It’s a Bucky Barnes x enhanced OC fic that I enjoyed writing and met with a modest reception. It wasn’t a dark fic but it’s still one of my favorite pieces.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That would be the MCU. I loved the films from the first Iron Man film, and I don’t think I ever recovered. I was terrified to write outside that fandom, but I’ve branched out a little since then lol

Your first Marvel crush

That would be the God of Mischief, Loki. I always loved the chaos the character brought in the comics. But when I went to see that first Thor movie, it was “Stop the press! Who is THAT?” Tom Hiddleston’s sublime performance as that character just won me over and I’ve always loved his ability to just hijack every scene he’s in.

Your favorite fandom writers

It was @caffiend-queen who drew me to the MCU fandom to begin with. Immediately after seeing Thor, I went to find Loki fan fics. And hers were my favorite. She was featured author in February, deservedly so, and she’s amazingly talented. Her ability to perfectly write any of Tom Hiddleston’s characters just blows me away. To me, she’s the Loki gold standard.

Then there’s @imanuglywombat who I followed here to Tumblr. I was mesmerized by the richness of her writing style, the way she writes emotion. I just came over here and watched what she did. Considering that I love everything she writes, it really wasn’t a hardship.

@lok1sgrl is my muse here and in real life. She inspires me every day.

I could be here all day naming authors I dearly love. Those are the ones who contributed in a major way to where I am now.

Favorite kink

I like several. I like one person being clothed while one is nude. I like spanking, M/F/M polyamory, light bondage, and spanking.

Favorite trope

I’m really crazy about one-night stands gone wrong. Bonus points if she bails on him and he decides he’s pissed off about it.

Tell us a secret

In any extra minutes I get, I’m writing a horror novel that I hope to shop around later this year. Fingers crossed. It’s my first time writing in that genre and the first time in some years I decided to try for NY again.

Motivation for writing

While I enjoy writing for writing’s sake and always have, I can tell you that the stories written and posted by free for countless authors I’ve read have really gotten me through some very tough times. If I can write a story that does that for someone else, gives them a pleasant escape? That thought makes me happier than anything.

What got you into dark fics?

Well, it was @lok1sgrl who is my friend and muse on and off line. We’ve been friends for years and she got me into reading fan fics in the first place. It is fun to have someone to compare notes with in real time on stories. Anyway, she discovered dark fics and wanted to write one. I wanted her to write one because she’s a much better writer than I am. So one day she invited me to lunch and told me about this great idea for a dark fic involving Steve Rogers. I loved it. I told her so. Then she said, “Okay I want you to write it.”

It took a couple of months to get my head around doing that because it was Steve Rogers. He’s good and pure and… Once I got into it, I really did enjoy writing the story and she was content to just let me do it my way. That story was my first dark fic, All Heaven in a Rage. I’m proud of that story. Not just because people seem to like it but because I was able to write it for her.

#mcudarklibraryauthorofthemonth #jtargaryen18 #mcudarklibrary

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

starker=> “What if they find us?”and “They’re not looking anyway.”

I’ll Keep You (Dirty Secrets)

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: 4.8K Notes: I made up a totally different canon universe and that was a lot of fun - thanks for the fun prompt, nonnie! Warning: NSFW things, crazy canon divergence Summary:

Peter is the most surprised to see Tony Stark on his couch not because it’s Tony Stark, but because they hadn’t agreed to see each other when he left the older man’s house a few hours ago.

Or: What if Peter Parker is college age and dating Tony Stark during the events of Civil War?

do the thing, send in all the prompts

The last thing Peter expected to walk in and find after his 3PM Thermodynamics class was Tony Stark sitting on his couch with May.

The surprise didn’t come from Tony himself – he left Tony’s place a few hours ago to make sure he got to class on time. When he walked him to the door, Tony never mentioned anything about coming over and choking down his aunt’s fig-nut bread and smiling innocently at him like they’d never even seen each other before. Shaking his head, Peter walked into the kitchen to collect himself.

When he turned back around, there was a surprised look on his face. “May, what’s going on?” Peter asked, his eyes wide. Turning to look at Tony, Peter did his best not to smile – “Hi, hi – I’m Peter, Peter Parker.” He did a ridiculous little wave, then looked back and forth between the two “adults” in the room.

Finally getting behind the protection of his thin bedroom door, Peter slapped a hand to his mouth and let out the laugh he’d been holding in since he walked through the door. Tony looked at him affectionately, his plump lips slipping into a beaming smile. “That went much better than I expected,” Tony admitted. He closed the gap between them and pulled Peter into a brief kiss. “I needed you to be surprised. We’ve got to head to Germany – it’s about to get real, Pete.”

Wrapping his arms tightly around Tony’s hips, Peter kept him close. For the past couple of weeks, Peter walked into the penthouse to a very irate Tony. Though he hadn’t wanted to get himself or Spider-Man involved just yet, Peter knew he wouldn’t be kept away for long. Steve Rogers was at odds with Tony and the conflict was slowly coming to a head. The crazy suit Tony put together for him a few months ago would finally get to see some action worthy of its excellence.

Tony’s well-crafted plan to get him away from Queens for however long it took to finish things, worked like a charm – May kissed his cheek and bought him a celebratory dinner before Happy came to whisk him away the next day. Getting to the hotel and finding his suit upgraded and waiting for him made his heart race.

Peter still felt pretty nervous about joining in business he still wasn’t sure was meant for him, but he’d do anything for Tony. Even if that meant finally putting himself in a world he’d been tiptoeing around for the entire year he’d known Tony and the Avenger’s business he dealt with.

He got through high school without exposing himself or his loved ones – that’s all that really mattered to him. If this entire ordeal led to Tony offering him induction onto the team, Peter would take it. Being with Tony meant exposure to this world; why not take it by the reins and make his own home on the team, hopefully under his own conditions.

There wasn’t much time to marvel at each of the heroes he’d been reading about for years – the concept of the fight was simple; stop Steve and Bucky from leaving. Peter did his best to keep up with the most revered superheroes and felt pretty good about the fact that he’d managed to stay in step and outsmart a few of them. Maybe Tony’s urges weren’t entirely selfish on the older man’s part – Peter had plenty of things to contribute to the disorganized chaos of the people around him. When they were working cohesively, Peter knew they’d be pretty unstoppable.

It was pure luck, finding Tony before he took off after Steve and Bucky. Peter stopped him in his tracks when Tony tried to push past him. The idea of Tony taking on something that felt so personal by himself didn’t even register – Peter wouldn’t take no for an answer; he jumped into the ship before Tony could really argue. The entire flight was silent – Tony hell bent on keeping up the silent treatment. Peter took the opportunity to try and put together the pieces of what was really happening.

Someone was out to split the group up – someone that had information that would force certain people to take sides. Peter didn’t have enough information to know what the root of all of this was, but whatever they were dealing with couldn’t tear them apart; that would be the ultimate win for the person orchestrating.

The swift realization that Steve kept something so raw and personal from Tony almost had him swinging across the building with every intention of attacking “America’s Ass”. The look on Tony’s face stopped him, however – there were real traces of hurt evident on his already strained face. Tony’s parents were something they hadn’t talked much about – Peter knew he resented Howard and missed Maria wholeheartedly. Much like Peter, Tony lost his parents long before resolution or satisfaction could come from their relationship. The shock of having them ripped away by people he knew wasn’t surprising or unfounded – Tony would need to reevaluate some of the decisions people he considered close to him made and the reasons behind them.

But, it wasn’t the time for that. Tony looked two seconds away from spontaneously combusting – the only thing Peter could do was stop him when Steve and Bucky took off. Tony looked at him with murder in his eye – the betrayal he read on his face made Peter’s stomach clench. “Think about it, Tony. Just stop and think. Zemo did this to create a divide. Something isn’t right and you know that.” Peter shouted the words at him – his heart racing with each one he threw from his chest. “Let them go.”

Tony went slack against him – whether it was realization or simply surrender, Peter wasn’t sure. He kept Tony in his arms until he heard the jet Steve and Bucky took take off. The resolute silence a few minutes after that had him pulling away, his hand reaching up to pull the mask off of his face.

The brown eyes that met his when he could see Tony again were much softer, the instant anger of the situation giving way to a more guttural feeling. “He killed my mom,” Tony babbled, his face falling. Peter was only strong enough to pull him in before tears of his own were falling.

Silence surrounded the flight back to the Avenger’s compound, only this time, Peter kept his arms around Tony’s middle and didn’t move a single bit the entire way. It took them two days to get the needed medical attention and track Steve down – the cell phone he left for Tony was the exact thing they needed to narrow down their whereabouts and catch them before they were untraceable.

The conversation that followed managed to satisfy Tony enough to not want to rip Bucky’s head off anymore. In the end, he was the one to suggest seeking out Shuri in Wakanda. Despite not having direct access to the country, Tony knew all about the genius being produced there – it was hard not to take notice of the smart people of the world. He told Peter that line time and time again.

It took a few months, but Steve finally returned to the compound. Between him and Tony, they managed to strike up a deal (which really meant intimidate) with Senator Ross. Saving the world wasn’t political business – at least that much everyone could agree to.

----

Thanos’s threat became a reality for the group at the compound when Thor’s distress signal reached them. They couldn’t pinpoint his location, but his cryptic message was enough to kick start them into action. It was clear to see that protecting, collecting, and destroying the stones was the only possible option.

Now a full-time member of the Avenger’s, Peter had a good time pointing that out to everyone in one of the many meetings they had about what to do about the fucked-up situation they were heading into. After the third time suggesting that they split up, Tony finally heard him and started to formulate a plan.

Steve, Wanda, and Vision headed out to Wakanda to get back in touch with Bucky and get Shuri to work her incredible magic. Tony and Peter wandered off in hopes of finding the time stone. Nat was tasked with the daunting task of pinpointing where Thor was. It seemed like each of them had a mountain to climb – but the world depended on it.

Happening open Doctor Strange when hunting down the time stone became an apparent advantage when he drew a portal and magicked them directly to Wakanda to join the others. The mind stone’s presence drew Thanos’s troops and they needed all of the manpower they could get.

News of Nat finding and heading out towards Thor’s location came to them when they got to Wakanda and met up with Steve and a fresh-faced Bucky. The first two seconds of the interaction were weird – Tony stood stock still. Then, he let the mask drop and pulled the man into a hug. Just the sight of it was cathartic – Peter could only imagine how both of the tortured men felt in that moment.

Meeting Shuri and T’Challa was a little rushed as they were all equipped with some of the Wakandan technology and weapons. Tony’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack when he saw all of the things that Shuri got to work on and with – some of it was replicated in his own workshop, and some of it was brand new and calling his name. Peter watched with silent amusement as the nerd in Tony tried to fight its way to the surface. There wasn’t time for that now – Shuri was in the final stages of separating Vision from the mind stone.

Standing in the middle of the battlefield a little while later, completely surrounded by Wakandan soldiers and the crew he’d been slowly making himself comfortable in, Peter felt himself smiling. They were about to fight for their lives, but he felt confident and ready with all of the strong characters flanking him. Tony gave his hand a quick squeeze before his face plate settled into place – at least they were taking on the fight together.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he swung from one place to the next, taking out as many enemies as he could along the way. Peter and Tony played off each other frequently, the boost of Tony’s ability to fly gave Peter a distinct advantage. He’d have to mention that to his boyfriend when all the craziness was over.

The back and forth seemed to go on forever – their retreat was leading them closer to the city with every minute that passed. Finally, there was a loud blast of a horn in the air, the richness of it sounding like victory.

Shuri managing to save Vision and destroy the stone sent them down a road that made the triumph over Thanos more and more likely. Nat found Thor and Loki with Rocket, Gamora, Peter Quill, and Groot.

She quickly found out that Gamora lied to her father and had the soul stone the entire time and Thor and his newly reformed brother Loki were in possession of the space stone. It didn’t take any prodding for either party to give up the infinity stone in their possession – Gamora regaled them with the many stories of Thanos murdering half of the many planets he managed to conquer. Not a single piece of the threat was a joke.

After destroying them, they were half of the way there. The time stone was safe with Stephen until the rest of them were collected. Peter Quill knew that the reality stone was with The Collector – he’d heard the man brag about its presence more than a few times. Knowing that Thanos only had one in his possession made settling for a plan of action much easier – the ability to include everyone in the flight gave them the upper hand.

Gamora offered herself up as bait – she knew her presence would draw her father out. He took the power stone by force, decimating Xandar without blinking an eye. Thanos was smart enough to know the fight was coming – Peter just hoped he didn’t know how big their team actually was.

In the end, it came down to Peter yanking the glove that Thanos wore so arrogantly on his hand, off and into the hands of Tony. There was a second when everyone looked around – the idea of winning never actually crossed their minds. They were all brought back to the reality of the situation when Gamora shrieked and took Thanos’s head straight off.

The collective sigh of relief that settled over the group didn’t really latch on until all 6 of the stones were destroyed. It took a little more convincing than Peter would have liked to have Stephen actually give up the time stone – but he saw reason eventually. It might have been imagined, but Peter thought something shifted in the universe when the final stone was destroyed. In this universe, the stones couldn’t cohesively exist without someone challenging them for the power they contained. The timeline was finally set right.

----

Celebrating the ultimate win took a few weeks to actually make a thing. Peter and Tony were content enough to be wrapped up in each other in the free moments they were gifted. Without the threat of Thanos, Peter decided to go back to school – Tony stayed in the city with him under the guise of getting back into the swing of things with Stark Industries.

It wouldn’t matter a single bit that they were together, but Tony was hell bent on keeping their relationship a secret. It made sense – things got to stay between the two of them for as long as they desired. Being open meant inviting people into their relationship and neither Peter nor Tony was particularly looking to do something like that.

Peter was right in the middle of his fall semester when Tony called him on his way back from class. Seeing Tony’s name flash across the screen, Peter picked it up instantly – the three-ring rule didn’t apply in situations like this.

“Hey Tony,” Peter said in answer, his voice a little breathy from the excitement that he couldn’t stop from coursing through him. Since Thanos, it was a lot more important to grab on to every single ounce of happiness.

His time with Tony would forever be too short. He learned the reality of that each time he stressed about losing Tony when they so selflessly put their lives at risk for the sake of everyone’s freedom, not just their own. The involvement in that wasn’t changing, so the risk would forever be there.

Shaking himself of the thought, Peter smiled when he heard Tony’s voice on the other side of the phone, the obvious scratch of disuse giving away his many hours straight in the lab. “Hey Pete. I got word from Steve today that they finally want to throw that fancy celebration shindig. Of course, they want to use our house to do the entertaining, but I couldn’t say no. You know how much I like a good party.” Tony actually sounded excited about the whole thing, so Peter paid close attention. The sound of Tony saying ‘our house’ was hard not to fixate on, but he tried his best.

By the time Peter got home, Tony was in the kitchen without his shoes on. The normal lab garb made him look half his age and never failed to pull at Peter’s heart a little. Tony’s carefree nature came out when he got to flex his brain – Peter loved getting to see his boyfriend that way. He managed to get behind Tony before the man even realized he was there – his muscled body tensed for a second when Peter’s arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, you,” Peter said against his ear, his lips trailing the words with a kiss. Peter let his face pressed against the side of Tony’s head, his boyfriend relaxing against him after a second.

“You scared the shit out of me. I was running through the latest specs in my head and got distracted. Nice surprise, though,” Tony remarked, his hand reaching back to grip Peter’s neck. Adjusting a little, Peter pressed their lips together, the weird angle making him chuckle.

“I might have put on the web shooters and swung the rest of the way back,” Peter admitted, his cheeks reddening when Tony’s hand tightening against him. “You seemed so excited on the phone; I couldn’t wait for the subway.”

Tony turned around in his arms, his own hands coming to tangle in the hair at the back of Peter’s neck. Leaning forward, Peter gave Tony another kiss, the softness of it a direct contrast to the hands in his hair. “I am excited. I get to put you in a suit and watch Thor get delightfully drunk. That’s always a party, Pete,” Tony muttered breathlessly. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Peter found himself going in for kisses every few seconds.

“He’ll bring the mead, I bet,” Peter said with a laugh, Tony’s breath tickling his nose as he too snorted out a breathy chuckle.

“One can only hope.”

The rest of the evening and all the ones for the next two weeks were filled with planning and getting ready for the first big gathering of everyone since the big win against Thanos.

Steve and Bucky went back to Brooklyn to see what living together would look like. Nat and Bruce were regulars to Stark Industries and the Stark household – out of everyone, they were the only two to know the true nature of his and Tony’s relationship. Loki, despite his initial misdeeds, was helping Thor run New Asguard – and they were actually getting along.

All the effort seemed worth it when they were all in one room together. It was like no time passed at all – the easy camaraderie that came with saving the planet couldn’t be lost in just a few months’ time. Peter mingled with everyone, his eyes wide and cheeks sore from reminiscing and catching up with the people that he considered family, despite the reservations he initially had about the saviors of the world when his journey with them first began.

He found himself wanting to pick Tony out of the crowed whenever he moved around and got caught up in the same conversation with someone else. Peter found himself able to withstand from the pull of Tony’s presence for a couple of hours. Eventually, when he noticed him over Bruce’s shoulder during their riveting discussion on the different types of sod, Peter excused himself and trailed after Tony. He was heading towards the back part of the penthouse where their bedroom was – it was the perfect place to grab a second or two of alone time with him. With all of the excitement surrounding them, it’d be nice to feel the grounding effect that Tony had on him.

A soft sigh left his lips when he found himself being pushed back against the door of their bedroom. He heard the creak of the floorboard by Tony’s side of the bed and went to investigate – Tony pining him against the wood was a very excellent end to his hunt. Tony gripped his hips tight, the older man’s hips rolling forward to pin him completely to the hard surface of the door.

“You’ve been catching my eye all night and it’s so hard to concentrate. I talked to Thor about his struggles with a preteen online twice before I realized it. I need you, Pete,” Tony got out before pressing his lips to Peter’s, kissing him soundly. The words were enough to make him harder than a rock, and the kiss set him on edge.

“What if they catch us?” Peter mumbled, his head turning to break the kiss in a desperate attempt to pull him oxygen into his lungs. His skin was plastered to the fancy shirt and jacket he let Tony talk him into wearing – everything felt tight against him. The arousal pumping through his veins woke up the hypersensitivity of his Peter-tingle and doubled the intensity of the feeling.

Tony didn’t respond to him right away – he methodically went about getting Peter out of his suit jacket and the tie around his neck. Peter’s fingers fumbled to pull Tony’s clothes from him, but the older man simply slapped his hands away and did it for him He didn’t care where the clothes landed, the rumpled look they’d return to the party with would be obvious – but at the moment, Peter didn’t give a shit, either.

When his bare back hit the mattress, Tony finally framed his face with his hands, his black eyes staring down at Peter intently. “I don’t care if they catch us. Not anymore. Hiding what we have hasn’t been worth the moments we miss out on. I should have had you on my arm tonight.” Tony said the worlds simply, the look on his face recognizably genuine. “They’re not looking, anyway. Everyone is in their own little world celebrating how badass we actually are.”

Laughing, Peter surged up and caught Tony’s lips – his legs wrapped around trim hips to bring them closer. It didn’t take much to get lost in the kiss and the not-so-subtle way they were grinding against each other. Peter didn’t try to hold back the overwhelming sensations – he bit into Tony’s neck when his orgasm washed through him. Tony pulled back enough to kiss him through it, their tongues tangling until Peter was too overcome to continue.

The boneless way Peter pressed into the mattress made it easy for Tony to spread his legs a little wider and start prepping his hole. Peter brought his bottom lip between his teeth, the tangibility of Tony’s touch still washing over him in the most overwhelming way. Tony must have recognized that, because he continued to tease his finger around Peter’s rim and pepper kisses to the inside of his thighs. It was just distracting enough to turn too much into not enough.

Peter looked down at Tony and nodded, the non-verbal communication just as important between them – especially in times like this. Tony abandoned his position between Peter’s legs for a second before returning, a bottle of lube in his hands. He willingly went when he felt Tony’s hands on his hips prod him into turning over. A moan left his lips when the coolness of the sheets pressed against his cock that was already starting to harden again.

The thickness of Tony’s fingers always surprised him upon first entry – they were a bit on the shorter side, but wide and filling from the get-go. Peter did his best to relax, Tony didn’t wait long before thrusting forward impatiently. The tip of his finger brushed against Peter’s prostate repeatedly – his cock going from somewhat interested to leaking within a few presses. “Another, Tony. More – “ Peter gasped out breathlessly, his skin pebbling from the collection of sensations.

1 finger quickly became 2 that gave way to 3 without Peter really noticing. Tony was peppering his shoulders and upper back with kisses and running his free hand down his perineum, the tickle on his skin there just enough to keep him from jumping off the cliff. He did notice the absence of them, however, his head turning quickly to take in Tony curiously.

“It’s okay, Pete – I’m going to fill you up. Just a second,” Tony muttered, his eyes finding Peter’s for a brief moment. He could see the tremor of Tony’s hand when they broke eye contact, his shaky fingers having a hard time getting the cap off the lube again to spread some of the slick along his weepy length. Peter dropped his head between his shoulders when Tony closed his eyes, the hand on himself obviously just a bit too much. Chewing on his cheek, Peter relaxed as much as he could and pressed back when Tony started to push in.

Hearing Tony groan when he was finally seated completely inside of Peter had him reaching down to grasp the base of his cock. It never stopped being sexy, how much Tony lost control when they were wrapped up in a position like this. For whatever reason, Peter held a key to another part of Tony that not a lot of people got to see. It drove him absolutely insane. Everything about Tony did that, though.

Their pace started out slow and specific. Every one of Tony’s thrusts was long and targeted, the head of his cock pressing deliciously against Peter’s prostate with each one. As Peter started to get closer to his orgasm, his ass clenched more and more tightly around Tony’s cock. His boyfriend slowly started to lose the battle between measured strokes and desperate thrusts – his hips stuttered and started to chase a deep spot in Peter randomly. Tony’s panting breaths were loud, the only other sound in the room the squeaking of the mattress under them and the slap of skin against skin.

Peter only had to stroke over himself once to finally succumb to the brain melting goodness of his second orgasm of the night. He called out Tony’s name and pressed his hips back into the ruthless slamming of his boyfriend’s hips. He clenched the walls of his ass even tight around Tony and felt the liquid heat of his spend start to spread within him a couple of seconds later. Groaning when he felt teeth in his neck, Peter felt all of the energy drain out of him as the noise left him – his chest hit the bed unceremoniously.

Tony pulled out and shuffled them until he was pressed against Peter’s back, his sweaty arm warm across his stomach. “Holy fuck,” Tony mumbled, his lips finding the side of Peter’s neck.

Grinning, Peter snuggled into Tony’s touch, a soft ‘mmmm’ coming out of his mouth the only source of agreement. The gust of Tony’s laugh made him grin a little wider, the floaty feeling so much better with Tony’s arms around him.

----

They went back to the party a little while later – Tony had FRIDAY set an alarm for 15 minutes and slipped into a deep sleep almost immediately. Peter relaxed against him and enjoyed the cadence of his boyfriend’s snores – most people hated the sound, but it meant that Tony was getting the rest he needed, and that’s all he wanted for him. FRIDAY’s voice brought him out of the little trance he fell into – he shook Tony awake as gently as he could so they could get up and try to slip back into the flow without being noticed.

It should’ve been easy, slipping back into the party. Everyone seemed pretty drunk when Peter walked into the open area of what was usually their living room. Most of his comrades were broken up into small groups talking and laughing – Thor and Loki were regaling Rhodey with some sort of heroic tale, Peter could tell by the shit eating grin on the God of thunder’s face. He walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and was stopped by Steve – the man’s eyes wide.

“Are you wearing Tony’s shirt?” Steve asked without hesitation. He walked over to Peter and went for the collar, his fingers pulling it back. Everyone knew that Tony was narcissistic enough to label his clothes with a TS on the collar. The black of the stitching contrasted the red shirt he hadn’t been wearing when he first walked into the party a few hours ago. Glancing up, Peter caught Tony looking down at his own shirt – the maroon shirt Peter started the night with buttoned up over the gleam of his arc reactor.

Peter got out of Steve’s grasp easily and walked over to Tony, his arm wrapping around his boyfriend’s shoulder. He gave him a kiss on the cheek and just about lost it when Tony raised the hand not wrapped around Peter’s waist and uttered “surprise”. The collective gasp in the room had him laughing, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder without a single care in the world.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #canon divergence #au prompt #ask prompts #nonnie #anonymous #i'll keep you (dirty secrets)

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