#and learning there's a LOT of men's grooming products out there

[kbspangler]

Good morning to everyone except for Charlie, who has had her nice YA battleworld broken apart by harsh language.

Benjamin [GASP! SHOCK!] Franklin is at A GIRL AND HER FED.

Charlie "Tea Beard" Goldskin is at SIDE QUESTED.

[seeminglyseph]

Swear my brain is like. “Hey, you should try and figure out a way to make an essay out of the topic of how cool Wind Breaker’s expression of Masculinity is”

And like. Thanks brain I want to have the best case scenario of a YouTube career be “nobody watches you” but also like. I think I would have to talk about the manga a lot because a) the manga only character profiles lend a considerable amount to my analysis. Those grooming products are so vital to characterization. It’s like. I know you can’t fit whole character’s grooming habits into a story organically so fitting them into character profiles makes perfect sense, and it works its way into the design elements of the characters anyway so it’s often stuff you can imply about the characters based on appearance and design. But sometimes it defies what the design tells you about the character, like Sugishita looks like a scruffy hooligan. But instead he’s a guy who gets a hair treatment once a month and has a brand of day-to-day hair care that is recognizable enough that it was censored in the notes. I just don’t know it because I don’t know Japanese beauty products very well. (If I do an essay I’ll do the research I promise, I haven’t decided yet, right now I’m just sitting outside navel gazing about a series I’m fixated about)

But I figure if I let the anime have its finale, which is looking to be a hook for the Keel Arc which I kinda figured, it was the next major arc coming up. And it will take me more than a considerable amount of time to even start let alone complete, people will have time to decide to read the manga if they want more information and I can can give spoiler warnings and start with a discussion of Shishitoren some I do adore them extremely.

And if it takes time maybe some manga stuff will wrap up and I’ll have some manga stuff to say about Shishitoren that is like. Further exploration of the community building through healing and understanding. The “No Man Is An Island” theme of Wind Breaker is really interesting and I really enjoy it, and I also enjoy the concept of like… “you aren’t being a man wrong if you aren’t being a bastard about it”??? Like. Obviously it’s a fighting anime, so people fight and have flaws and hurt people, but that’s not like… proof of them being bad people. But like… also being gay or feminine or liking stuff other people don’t like or being a nerd or concerned about your appearance or being sick or being weak… like that doesn’t make you a “bad man” either. It’s like… there’s a million billion different ways to be a man. And they all count and matter and make the whole stronger for being included. And it’s just that this show is about teenage boys learning to become men, and most of these boys have been pretty fucked up and hurt but like, they just wanna be accepted and loved and respected do good. And like. I love ‘em.

Sakura didn’t think there was a world where he could do good, and is learning so fast that not only is there, but he’s in it and now he’s responsible. And he likes it??? And it’s that’s like. Intimidating and scary. Which might actually be more terrifying than being alone. Being afraid of losing people he likes. The worst. Uggghhhh the Keel Arc has one of the best moments.

God Clover Works do not fuck us with this season 2. Tell me you learned your lesson about season twos from the neverland show. Do not fuck me with the Keel Arc. I need my feral cat child to have his feral cat moment. I need Suo to have his fucking “you won’t like me when I’m angry” moment. I need this. I mean I also need to eventually get to Tsubaki and the like… man I keep calling them El Tango de Roxanne and The Communist Child Mafia. The first one not officially, the song just plays in my head, but like it’s hard to get that across in text and like. It’s not the Police version it’s the Moulin Rouge version, because like it’s clearly the superior version obvs. And due to this being text and any video being likely to require copyright, there’s no way any version of my subconscious association will translate. I know those gangs have their own names I’ll remember on a reread, that arc confused the shit put me in the Pepe Silvia Conspiracy Spiral that is “this is a dystopian hellscape” because like. The Communist Child Mafia was like… sure, within the realm of possibility, but like. Definitely kind of wild. And the Red Light Crew were like. “What the fuck do you mean you are teenagers you assholes?!? You’re fucking bald. That is not a teenager. What?!? Oh he works at the host clubs?!?? But of course he doesn’t drink! That was my first concern of course. That he was drinking.”

I feel like I need to do so much research but I don’t even know what to research. Like. That arc still like, it in no way defies the theme of “No Man is An Island” or “There Is No Innately Incorrect Form of Masculinity” but like. The worldbuilding questions it poses. I don’t know if I’m even supposed to ask them. I might be the wrong one. This might all be reasonable and o just like… misunderstood the setting because like. A couple things could reasonably clear up a few things. Like… a few natural disasters and poor infrastructure and the city being located in an area with poor government oversight and like. Most people in Japan are aware that area has that problem locally. But as someone not in Japan I’m not aware of that history so I’m not aware of that one simple contextual clue that makes like… everything click into place. Because there are things that make me suspect aspects of that but like. I don’t just wanna throw my own bias onto things, you know?

Well I guess I do because that’s the point of an essay. You create a thesis and then you argue for it based on your own biases and how you think the text backs it up, plus maybe some arguments from other texts or anecdotes from life or whatever.

Idk. I might be losing coherence. Ideas out of momentum for now. Need to collect more data.

[samanddean76]

by SamandDean76

I’ll Show You Heaven If You Let Me | Mature | 11.3k words (Mafia AU)

Omega Dean Winchester just wanted to take out his recycling in peace. But he finds a mystery Alpha unconscious on the ground, stashed behind the bins. Dean gets him inside, but then work calls. Once Dean returns home, he finds that the mystery Alpha Castiel is recovered, and he's waiting to claim the Omega that saved him.

The only problem? They're on opposite sides of the law. Now Dean has to risk all to earn back his freedom. But will he lose his true mate along the way?

Entirely Unacceptable | Mature | 10.7k words (Royalty AU)

Alpha Castiel has unexpectedly acquired a very well-trained Omega Dean when he escorted his brother Gabriel to a public auction house. But the Omega he brought home harbors not only secrets, but enemies as well. Will they survive long enough to reach their happy ending? And can they really be true mates if neither is sure that they even believe in such a thing?

Love, rescue, and some revenge in a modern day A/B/O setting.

Alpha Seeking Omega | Mature | 66.6k words (Dystopian AU)

Omega Dean has lived a harsh life prior to being selected to be a demonstration model at a party unveiling the latest product that Morningstar Enterprises is set to produce. Alphas Castiel and Jimmy Novak are guests of honor at the event, but when they lay eyes on the Omega that is clearly at the center of something that was not a part of the party, the twins leap into action. Unfortunately, they are separated. Now Jimmy must keep Dean safe until Castiel can be rescued.

But the more that Jimmy learns about this very well-trained Omega, the more he questions what was really going on that night. The problem is will he be able to figure out the puzzle and still rescue his brother?

Letting Fate Decide | Mature | 14.6k words (A/B/O AU)

Castiel is a new Omega in the big city. He meets the Alpha for him in the form of a fry-cook named Dean Winchester. But a military commander pulls Dean in for a mission and as Castiel waits he is taken by Lucifer to be added to one of his many Omega brothels. There he meets an Omega named Gabriel who helps him to survive. Little does he know that Gabriel is longing to be reunited with his one true Alpha, Sam Winchester.

The Spirited Sprite | Explicit | 8.1k words (Fantasy AU)

Alpha Castiel is the destined true mate of Sprite Dean. But an ancient curse and an unjust punishment threatened to keep them apart. As Dean heals Castiel, will the secret Dean keeps hidden lead to their happy ending, or their being torn apart once more?

How To Accidentally Create Soulmates | General | 2k words (Just Fun AU)

Gabriel was given a brand-new and very important responsibility by Chuck. To oversee the soul nurseries in heaven. Well, Gabriel delegated this boring task to Castiel.

I mean, what's the worst that could happen?

To Know Him Is To Love Him | Explicit | 6.5k words (Hunter Corp AU)

John Winchester is very concerned. On what should be one of the happiest days of his life, the wedding of his oldest child Dean to the absolute love of his life Castiel, both grooms and Sam are missing. John calls upon Gabriel, a Supernatural Consultant for Hunter Corp, and then sets out to find the missing men. Just hoping that he’s not too late to walk his son down the aisle.

A Valentine’s Day adventure with a little peril, a lot of love, and quite the happy ending!

Well, I Never Been To Heaven | Mature | 23,654 words (Season 4 AU)

Dean Winchester is living a plain, ordinary, and boring life. Until one day a new student shows up in the little town of Spain, SD. It’s love at first sight, but then an unimaginable tragedy happens, and Dean is left alone in his misery. Or is he a student attending Oxford University on a full athletic scholarship who finds a familiar face in his coxswain? Or is he hiking in the desert and attempting to save a known stranger? Or is he a traveler who stops for the night at a cheap motel and finds the pizza man of his dreams? Or is he none of those things? Just an unwitting victim of fate and destiny?

Castiel had led the assault on hell, in order to save the righteous man and prevent the first seal of the apocalypse from being broken, lest hell should be allowed to reign on earth. In the aftermath of his disastrous mission, he is being held captive by Alastair, and his image is being used in a final, determined attempt to break Dean.

But the profound bond that Castiel feels towards the pure soul won’t allow him to go down without a fight, and he makes a desperate prayer to his very old friend to set in motion a chain of events that might save him and his beloved mortal, or possibly, doom them for all eternity.

More coming soon…

[beardedmrbean]

I read with a mixture of sadness and relief an essay by one Melissa Persling, who by all accounts represents the average 30-something woman in America today. In the article, she laments the fact that she’s single at 38 and feels "unbelievably betrayed by feminism." 

Persling feels that way because it is that way. For decades our culture has failed women by spreading falsehood after falsehood about men, marriage, motherhood and career. It’s been a slow, daily drip of "You go, Girl!" messages, specifically designed to delete men and babies from life’s equation. And it has wreaked havoc on women’s lives. 

In an interview with Fox News, Persling explained why she wrote her article. "I wrote a lot of that article like truly scared … I really did think, like, wow, you’ve missed your opportunity. You are going to be alone. You’re not going to have a family." 

She adds, "I was constantly fed this idea that women can do everything. We don’t really need men … I do feel in many ways betrayed by that line of thinking." 

Persling then concedes that she received this message from "so many of the women" in her life. "I want to go back to some of those teachers and coaches and say, ‘What the hell did you mean by that? Because we can’t do it all. We can’t. That’s a lie!’" 

Yes, it was all a lie — and good on Persling for calling it out in such a public way. 

Still, it’s a super hard pill to swallow, made worse by the fact that Persling has been slammed with hateful comments, particularly from men, who insist she’s been selfish. She’s a product of her choices, they say, and, well, too bad. 

It’s not that simple. 

As a life and relationship coach, I hear regularly from women like Persling who realize they’ve been duped by the narrative that being an independent, self-sustaining woman is enough to be happy. It makes perfect sense that these women would find themselves, down the road, overcome with grief at the prospect of living life alone. And they can’t turn to the culture for help because the culture hails singlehood as the be all, end all. 

Persling was smart to recognize that being a product of divorce also put her at a disadvantage since she saw women "taking care of everything" in life. Her mother may not have specifically groomed her to be a feminist, but she absorbed the feminist message of not needing a man all the same. No one told her otherwise. 

America is now saturated with women like Persling, who acted upon the wisdom passed along to them by the people they most trusted. These women thought they did everything right, only to have it turn out all wrong. To accept that the advice they received was based on lies is a hard lesson for anyone to learn. 

The truth is, this purportedly "liberated" path women have been groomed to travel has a domino effect. Because if the goal isn’t marriage and family, what is the goal? To be satisfied with being single forever because at least you have a paycheck and no one to whom you must answer? As Persling said, "I don’t want to wake up at 60 and say, ‘Oh, well, I had a lot of fun!’" 

The problem with the narrative women have been fed is that it deleted the old way but didn’t replace it with anything new. It conveniently left out the details about how women are supposed to live their lives instead. 

I believe Persling when she said she’s "not even a feminist." That’s the thing about movements and trends: They seep into the culture to such a degree that they cease to need a name at all. You don’t even recognize it’s there, and yet it’s governing your every move. 

As Danielle Crittenden wrote in "What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us," feminism "had seeped into their minds like intravenous saline into the arm of an unconscious patient. They were feminists without knowing it." 

But now, thanks to Persling’s bravery, more women will wake up. 

[schrijverr]

Old Wounds May Scar, but They Never Stop Hurting

Mike used to be in the Army before he ran into Harvey. He doesn’t like talking about what he saw back then or the injuries he suffered. However, when they prevent him from getting up, Harvey steps in and helps him, not only with the pain, but also in getting better accessibility at work.

AKA I give Mike chronic pain, cane swag and shit on the US Military and healthcare for 13k words.

@flawsome4ever I hope this is what you expected, sorry for the length, but this prompt gripped me by the throat and inspired me!

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: The US Army, the US healthcare system, war, mentions of old injuries and death, chronic pain, interalized ableism, trauma, reference to drug addiction.

~~~~~~~~~~

In hindsight Harvey will wonder how it took him this long to notice and then he’ll look at Mike’s thin figure and fail again to see a soldier in there. However, sometimes when Mike levels his eyes at him, he wonders how anyone could ever miss it.

Yet, Harvey consoles his bruised ego about people reading with the fact that there were some things that he picked up. Despite the fact that they didn’t click until later.

When they first meet, Harvey notes the calloused hand that shakes his. He shakes a lot of hands. He shakes the hands of the powerful, of the wealthy, of the desk job workers, the business men. And especially today, he has shaken a lot of lawyer hands already, much to his dismay.

All the hands today have been soft, with too much product to keep them like that. Except for these, who lack the grooming and appearances that is part of this world. They instead speak of work, actual hard work that requires more effort than what your average Harvard gradate does. These hands, combined with the wink from Donna, make him look twice at the kid, who just entered his interview room.

The second thing Harvey notices, is Mike’s walk.

This takes him a few times. There isn’t anything extremely particular about it, just a good confident walk, like so many have in the business world. Yet it is odd on Mike, who he met during a drug run and has seemingly never owned a suit in his life past prom.

Because when Mike walks, he walks with confidence. It is almost like he walks to a drum beat only he can hear, with his shoulders upright and his face forwards. He is still clumsy from time to time, but Harvey has also noticed how he plays it up when that paralegal girl, Rachel he thinks her name is, is around. And he mostly seems to have butterfingers. Because his posture is immaculate.

Harvey is grateful for it when he does notice. He has been worried about being found out ever since he hired the kid. Mike still has a lot to learn about being a lawyer and all the things that come with going to law school. But a good posture takes a while to ingrain and he appreciates that it is one less worry on his list.

Another thing Harvey has never truly noticed, but in hindsight is something his subconscious noted, is how Mike sits facing the door.

They rarely sit together, but Harvey notices that Mike doesn’t sit down unless there is a seat facing the door. He would rather pace the area, picking up items that don’t belong to him, flip through vinyls or lean against desks.

In the conference room, he prefers it if they sit facing the firm, telling Harvey it is because the skyline behind them is intimidating and that way they can see Jessica coming if they’re doing something she said they shouldn’t.

It says a lot about Harvey as a person that the second reason is the most convincing.

Even in his cubicle, which is located alongside a passageway, he ensures he never has a blind spot. At first, Harvey thinks it is just childishness that has Mike spinning in his chair like it’s a theme park ride. However, after a bit of reflection, he realizes that it is to follow people as they pass. To spin towards the elevators as they arrive, bringing strangers, and ensuring that no movement slips past him.

And then there are the things Harvey chalked up to being from a poorer background. Again, he found the kid on a drug run, it isn’t a weird assumption that he would have a few leftover habits from that time.

For example, Mike will eat anything. Sure, he may look at some things with suspicion, but if he gets it and it is presented as food, he will eat it. And Mike eats fast.

Harvey has watched in amazement as a burger disappeares in seconds, as he tries not to think of whatever made him eat like it was the first time in days and someone might take it away if he doesn’t hurry.

Besides that, he has also discovered that Mike carries a knife with him at all times. He discovers that when a package arrives while they’re late in the office. It’s the files they subpoenaed and the other side is trying to make it difficult for them to access them.

He himself has a letter opener, something Mike had laughed at when he first saw it, but now is useful, or so he thinks. However, the opposition has really taped the box shut and the delicate knife is struggling with getting through.

After watching him for a few moments, Mike rolls his eyes and pushes him aside. From his pocket, he produces a sturdy pocket knife and deftly cuts through the tape, removing a few staples in the process as well. Once done he cheekily grins: “There you go.”

“Why the hell do you have that?” Harvey asks, not even bothering to be grateful they can access the evidence now.

“Because it is useful,” Mike informs him, looking a bit confused.

“If the police even suspects that you’re carrying that for unlawful purposes, they can arrest you, you know that, right?” Harvey says.

“Relax,” Mike assures him. “It’s under four inches, thus allowed and on top of that, I have been carrying this since I met you and you’ve never noticed. And opening boxes isn’t really unlawful, now is it?” Then he shrugs, “Besides, it could have been worse, I used to carry a switchblade.”

“You what?” Harvey exclaims.

“I said used to, I don’t do it anymore. I’m not stupid,” Mike tells him and in that second Harvey doesn’t even think to remember that active US Army personnel is allowed to carry a switchblade in the state of New York.

“Just don’t be an idiot,” Harvey says, for lack of something better to say.

“Never,” Mike grins, before grabbing a stack of papers out the box. “Now, lets find what these sons of bitches are hiding.”

At the end of the night, Mike has found the discrepancy. After handing it to Harvey he rubs his back and shoulder, grimaces for a moment, before collapsing against the desk and immediately falling asleep, so that he can catch as many hours as possible. Which is coincidentally another thing Harvey has noted, but never thought much about.

Mike can sleep anywhere at anytime.

It’s a skill many associates have to learn through trial and error as they struggle with the workload they never thought could be bigger than college exams. Harvey remembers being them. Remembers walking through the hallways, desperately wanting to sleep, but an uncomfortable chair and hard desk preventing him.

He still sees them walking around like he used to do and wondered how Mike would fare. It has been a while since the kid was in college after all.

However, he needn’t have worried, because Mike sleeps instantly and wakes up just as easily, ready and alert. Though, he always stretches and groans afterwards, scowling more than on other days, something Harvey can understand, shuddering as he thinks back on the many nights he used his desk as pillow.

Donna has made up all sorts of stories about why that is, the next one sadder than the last, but Harvey always just rolls his eyes. There might be truth to it, but with what Mike lets slip, he has never truly been on the streets. Privately, he thinks it’s because he needed to keep an eye on his grandmother and this was the way to cope with that.

But even without all that, it isn’t particularly odd that Mike sleeps well even on the floor of the file room, or slumped against a desk. Associates work hard. They work until they’re exhausted and then a few hours more. Harvey would be more concerned if he never saw Mike sleep. And as long as he is functional, Harvey doesn’t care much about Mike’s sleeping habits.

So, yeah, all the signs were there. Harvey knows that in hindsight. But they were all scattered throughout their interactions and Harvey isn’t knowledgeable enough about ex-Army personnel habits to put the pieces together.

Therefore, Harvey finds out that Mike used to be a soldier by complete accident and to his complete surprise on an innocuous Tuesday.

General Curtis, an older gentleman, who has been collaborating with private security for a few years now as liaison. He is still active in the Army, but when he is in Harvey’s office, the man knows he’s not there on the military’s behalf, but on the company’s that Pearson Hardman represents.

Not that it matters much to Harvey on whose behalf he is there, as long as the client pays. Besides, he likes General Curtis. He knows what he wants, is friendly enough and lets Harvey do his job with minimal interference. Mostly content if he can return with a good deal.

So, he warmly welcomes General Curtis and is discussing what needs to be done for an upcoming deal to run smoothly when Mike enters, looking a bit disheveled as always and carrying a file. “I have the McCuffins file,” he says, not yet spotting General Curtis.

When he does spot the General in full military uniform, his eyes grow wide. For a second, Harvey thinks it’s the uniform that makes Mike try to be respectful as he salutes the man.

Even as he greets him with: “General Curtis, sir,” Harvey faintly thinks he must have seen the man in Harvey’s files before.

It’s not until General Curtis salutes back and Mike falls into a parade position as General Curtis returns, “Corporal Ross? You work here, son?” That Harvey begins to realize what is happening right in front of his eyes.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Mike responds as Harvey watches with surprised fascination. Behind his eyes all the aforementioned puzzle pieces start to click together as the words ‘Corporal Ross’ ring around his head on a loop.

“It’s good to see you on your feet again, Corporal,” General Curtis smiles as if seeing an old friend when saying that.

“Sir, thank you, sir,” Mike nods in response, tensing slightly.

On his face in an expression Harvey doesn’t know. He knows the cheeky grin Mike wears, the serious expression as he argues, the smug face when they win, the disbelieving one when Harvey does something he could never.

However, now his face is blank. It’s an odd expression. Like he is a doll, a toy soldier with only this expression carved on. Not at all the expressive Mike he knows. It is a weird thing to witness. It feels wrong.

Meanwhile, General Curtis slaps Mike left shoulder hard enough to make him wince. Then he grins: “None of that formal military stuff. Neither of us are here for the Military. Harvey here is helping the company I’m a liaison for in a deal. You two work together?”

“Sir- Yes. I’m his associate,” Mike informs him. “I do the paperwork. Still climbing my way up here, sir.”

“Well,” General Curtis laughs, “knowing you, you’ll be there in no time.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mike replies, not sounding like he means it and Harvey wonders why he is underselling himself to General Curtis and why he looks uncomfortable. Mad, even.

And it’s not just the stiff politeness that is so unusual on the kid, it’s the way his back is ramrod straight, the way he is trying to end the conversation, the way he is showing any emotions. The whole interaction is creeping Harvey out.

“While I appreciate this reunion, Mike has a lot of work to get back to and we have a lot to discuss,” he cuts in before General Curtis can react.

“Of course,” General Curtis says jovially. “I hope to run into you again, son.”

“Sir,” Mike salutes again, dropping off the files and briskly walking away in that manner Harvey has always known and can now suddenly place.

It hasn’t hit him before, but it is now. Mike used to be Military. Mike is a veteran. Mike knows General Curtis. Mike was a Corporal.

The whole thing is swirling through his head as he quickly gets through his meeting with General Curtis. He is slightly off kilter the entire time, but enough of a professional that General Curtis doesn’t notice. And before he knows it, he is saying goodbye and falling into his chair.

It’s hard to connect skinny, fishbone, ex-drug addict, difficulty with authority Mike with the image of a soldier. Yet here Harvey is, attempting to reconcile the two.

He wonders what happened to the kid.

He sits in his office staring for long enough that Donna comes in. She looks a bit uncertain, something she rarely does, before she takes a breath and sits down as she says: “That was certainly something.”

“Did Mike look off to you?” Harvey asks, not really reacting to the statement that was more meant as an icebreaker than something that needed a reply.

“Stiff as a board and the most un-Mike I have ever seen him?” Donna ask rhetorically. “Yeah, he did. If you don’t go to talk to him, I’m calling down there to say you asked for him. Don’t stop trusting your gut now.”

“Yeah,” Harvey nods absentmindedly, before blinking the world back into focus and nodding: “Yeah, I’m going.”

He gets up and walks down to the cube farm. Another thing he subconsciously noticed now pops out to him again as he watches Mike twirl to face the door right as he walks through it. The only one there, who notices his arrival.

Their eyes meet and Mike’s immediately flit back to the pages in front of him, ignoring Harvey’s presence, despite the fact that he would usually jump up in hopes he could get to leave and do something more fun than research or paperwork with Harvey.

Slightly on guard, Harvey makes his way over to Mike’s cubicle. He leans on the edge of Mike’s desk as he always does, attempting casual. “So,” he starts, “you never told me that before.”

“And I don’t see how it is relevant for you to know,” Mike shoots back, not looking up. “Now, Louis is already giving me shit for the paperwork I put off to get you that McCuffins file, so if you have nothing to discuss except for my previous employment, then I’m going to ask you to leave. I am busy.”

For a second, Harvey looks at Mike flabbergasted. He isn’t used to rejection in general, but even more so from Mike, who has rarely rejected him this bluntly. “Mike,” he starts.

“No,” Mike cuts him off, finally looking up. “I’m serious, Harvey. I don’t want to talk about it and you have no leg to stand on in asking me. So, for both our sake, leave it alone.”

“I just wanted to-”

Again Harvey doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Mike interrupts again: “If you’re doing that thanking for your service crap, shut up. And don’t mention this to anyone, I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Harvey promises.

“Thanks.”

“But, I wanted to say, if you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Harvey says, ignoring the surprised and confused look Mike is giving him. Anything is better than the emotionless guy he saw in his office, besides he likes keeping the kid on his toes. “Or, you know, I can do something.”

“Oh, uh, I- I might,” Mike says awkwardly.

They share a nod, before Harvey walks away. He gets a few steps before he stops and turns around, asking: “Not even Donna?”

Mike rolls his eyes and says: “Like I didn’t already assume Donna would find out. It’s impossible for her not to know when you’re concerned. I half-assumed she wired you and was listening in at this point.”

Harvey snorts, then truly leaves. It’s good to see that Mike is still his Mike, he is just touchy about this topic. Though Harvey doesn’t know why.

When he relays the conversation to Donna, she shares his confused concern. However when she suggests digging with her Military contacts, he shuts her down. It is against his nature to do so and he explains: “You didn’t see him, Donna. I have never seen him like that. He really doesn’t want us digging and he is right that we wouldn't have known if it weren’t for this. Unless it starts to interfere with work, we’ll keep out of it.”

Grudgingly Donna agrees muttering: “I hate having to say you’re right to encourage your emotional development.” Something he pretends not to hear.

And for a few weeks that was that.

The first time he returns to Harvey’s office, he eyes the both of them suspiciously with unfamiliar calculating eyes. When there seems to be nothing to require a reaction, he carries on like it’s any other day without a word.

Harvey tries to forget it and that mostly works. His eyes are opened, however, and from time to time he’ll spot the habits he noticed before and will be reminded of the fact that Mike used fight in the Army. Used to be part of something that has rendered him unable or unwilling to speak about what he did back then.

It is hard to fight his curiosity, something he has never before had to do. When General Curtis comes by again to work out the last details and to sign, Mike is coincidentally busy.

As Harvey covers for his associate he wants to ask about the kid’s service time so badly, but doesn’t.

He has just about accepted that he will never learn more about Mike’s Military time.

Maybe if he becomes even closer with the kid, he thinks for a moment, but they’re about as close as they can get with Mike calling him whenever he pleases, if he has found what they need and Harvey dropping by unannounced, if he needs something from Mike. The late nights at the office, the movie references, the secrets that bind them.

So, yeah, unlikely, or so he thinks.

That assumption is challenged, because his phone starts ringing at an hour that is inhuman and causes him to want to murder whoever is other side. “Harvey Specter, this better be important,” he grouches into the phone. He’s not even ready for his 7 AM run yet.

“Hi, Harvey,” Mike sounds sheepish, but something else is tinting his voice, which sets Harvey on edge.

“Mike?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I wanna preface this by saying that I can usually handle this and I know that I am technicality fine,” Mike starts, doing nothing to calm Harvey’s nerves. “But I don’t think I’m making it to work today and I need you to fight Louis for me, because I have a ton of work that I have to give him today, but it’s lying here on my coffee table, so I won’t be able to do that.”

Harvey is now fully awake and his head is filled with question marks. His primary worry is the fact that Mike can’t make it to work and decides to focus on that for the moment as he says: “Are you okay? What do you mean can’t make it to work?”

He hears Mike sigh and mutter something about knowing it wouldn't be this easy. Then he speaks to Harvey again: “To be frank, I’m lying in my bed and I’m pretty sure that if I were to move I would start crying.”

That is one of the most worrying things he has heard, so – arguably, correctly concerned – he asks: “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I mean, you could say that,” Mike says and now that he knows what it is, he can place the pain that laces his voice.

“What?” Harvey will later argue that his voice was not shrill, thank you very much.

“Oh, yeah, okay, that can sound wrong, wait,” Mike tells him. “I’m fine now, just old pains. They don’t tell you that when you sign up for the Army, but some of that shit hurts and never leaves.”

It’s only when Mike says Army that Harvey realizes what is going on. Old pains are haunting Mike, apparently to the point where he can’t get out of bed and the fucking idiot is more worried about Louis’ work instead of his own well being.

“I’ll be there in 30,” he says.

“Huh? No!” Mike replies. “Why? I’m fine. I told you I’m fine. I just need today. Come on, man.”

“Yeah, you told me a lot of thing,” Harvey says, wanting to get angry, but managing to think today through, before switching to a tactic that has worked for him in the past. Lying. “But Jessica is on my ass for that thing with Louis last week and if Louis even sniffs something is off, he is running to her to convince her to punish me. So, here’s what is going to happen, I’m not fighting him for you today, instead I’m getting the work from you and you can deal.”

Mike is quiet for a moment, then grudgingly agrees: “Sure. Whatever.”

“Alright,” Harvey nods. “I have the keys, be there in 30.” Then hangs up.

He gets dressed in the first clothes he pulls out of his closet. Him being him, that means he is wearing a full suit, though he isn’t bothering with all the buttons or the tie, so he looks a lot more rumpled than usual.

Ray isn’t on duty yet, since it is so early, so he hails a cab and pays extra for the driver to break a few laws. Exactly 30 minutes later he is rolling up to Mike’s shitty apartment building, where the elevator has never been in working order and he takes the steps two at a time.

Harvey is pretty sure he has never looked more like a mess when he lets himself into Mike’s apartment, sweaty and breathing heavy.

The apartment is the biggest question mark to Harvey, who always thought that Military personnel were neat and organized. Meanwhile Mike’s apartment can best be compared to a hurricane and the kid in question is never without a button missing or his hair disheveled.

But he barely gives it a thought now, quickly making his way to the bed in the back of the room to ensure with his own eyes that Mike is alright. Well, as alright as he can be.

Mike is half asleep when he gets there. One eye is watching him, but his gaze isn’t as alert as it usually is and his hair looks even more messier than normal. He is wrapped up in multiple blankets, his phone on the pillow next to him. Tiredly, he croaks: “Heyyy,” failing at casual.

“Hi,” Harvey humors him anyway. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Mike rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. Then causally comments one of the most horrifying things ever. “You get multiple shots in the back once and your body never lets you forget it.”

“What?” Harvey isn’t ashamed to admit he choked on those words.

At that point Mike seems to realize what he has admitted and cringes sheepishly, as he softly tries: “It’s not that bad?”

“Mike…” Harvey starts.

“The paperwork!” Mike cuts him off with forced cheer, trying to sit up to hand it over, only to groan in agony before collapsing back onto the bed with a choked: “Fuck.”

“Mike,” Harvey repeats, this time with concern as he hover around the bed, unsure of what he can do to help.

“I’m fine,” Mike exclaims in an obvious lie. “Just moved wrong.”

“Mike…” Harvey is starting to feel like a broken record.

“Don’t worry,” Mike fails to assure him. “It’s usually not like this, I promise. Just the rain and cold that hate me.”

“Just stay down,” Harvey orders.

And Mike groans: “Don’t have to tell me twice,” as he burrows back into the comforter.

“Thank fuck,” Harvey mutters to himself, uncomfortable with seeing Mike in pain and being unable to do anything. He looks around, slowly realizing he has no clue where to start. So, he just asks Mike: “Alright, what do you need?”

“A glass of water?” Mike replies, almost unsure if Harvey will actually help. Like he isn’t used to that.

Harvey tries not to think about it.

He gets the water, wrinkling his nose at the dirty dishes, before he remembers his own associate apartment with a shudder. Returning he wants to hand Mike the water, but the kid can’t drink lying down. “We’re going to need to get you into at least a semi-seated position.”

Again Mike groans, before his eyes widen a bit and he assures Harvey: “I promise I’m usually not this whiny. I swear.”

It makes Harvey wonder who told Mike he was being whiny about being shot in the back and the feeling of wanting to strangle someone comes to mind. “Mike, you got shot in the back, I would be milking this for pity and service, calm down.”

“Sorry,” Mike says sheepishly.

“Now, come on. Think that if I pull you’ll live through the momentary agony?” Harvey asks and after Mike’s nod, he pulls him up into a sitting position, rearranging his pillows so Mike can flop back slightly more upright.

“Thanks, dude,” Mike says. “Having to lie all day, or for however long this lasts, would have sucked.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Harvey replies, unable to react to the genuine thanks about just basic and minor help.

“Whatever dude,” Mike snipes cheekily, though Harvey gets the uncomfortable feeling Mike knows that he cares.

Harvey just levels him a look that does nothing anymore as he gives him the glass and orders him to drink. With the request for water, he realizes Mike is probably not in the state to get food for himself either. So, he leaves the kid on his bed and starts rummaging around in his kitchen.

Mike follows his movements with a confused look as he sips his drink. After a moment, he says: “I know my house is a mess, but the paperwork for Louis isn’t in my cupboard. It’s on the coffee table.” He looks to the coffee table in question, which looks like a bureaucratic war zone. “Well, somewhere on there.”

For a moment Harvey tries to comprehend that his associate is truly that stupid. Then he just sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose and turns back to what he was doing.

“What?” Mike asks confusedly after a moment.

Again, Harvey levels him a look, but this time he explains: “I’m getting you food, idiot. You’re not and that’s understandable, but if you starve I have to do your paperwork. Or find a new associate, which I already hated the first time around.”

“Oh,” Mike says, sounding touched, but also unsure of what to with that emotion. He follows Harvey’s movement a little longer, then asks: “But what about Louis?”

“I can still take it, but first food,” Harvey replies. “I haven’t eaten either yet.”

“Ah, I see,” Mike says, getting back to safer ground for both of them. “All of this is just a trick to steal my food. I see you.”

“No, my evil plans to steal your stale bread and two eggs, down the drain,” Harvey deadpans, unearthing oil and salt to cook the eggs with.

Mike snorts and turns back to his water, picking up his phone with slow movements and checking his messages. Harvey keeps an eye on him as he cooks the eggs. He looks comfortable, but the twinges here and there give away that he is in pain. It makes Harvey wonder how many times he didn’t say anything. How many times Harvey didn’t notice. How many times he was alone in bed, unable to make food or grab a glass of water and just suffering.

He quickly texts Ray that there is no need to pick him up today, but that he might need him later, before plating the eggs as he contemplates whether to text Donna.

On one hand, she would want to know and cares enough about Mike to be concerned about this. On the other hand, it isn’t his place and he is pretty sure Mike doesn’t want her to know. In the end, he decides to save making the decision for later and hands Mike his plate. Sitting down on the foot of the bed with his own, since the couch has been overtaken by laundry.

They eat in silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable.

As they eat, Harvey tries to make a plan of action for the rest of the day. He needs to find out to what extend this is affecting Mike and how to take that into account, maybe clean a bit because Harvey doesn’t think he could live like this. Then he also needs make sure Mike is comfortable today and won’t get any shit at work without telling people about this, whose business it absolutely isn’t.

“So,” he starts after another moment. “Does this happen often?”

Mike gives him a calculating look, before he swallows his bite and shrugs, wincing at the movement: “Depends. It hurts often, kind of comes with the territory, but to this extend is rare. I can usually function just fine.”

“Would you have ever told me without the paperwork for Louis hanging over you?” Harvey asks then, biting the bullets one by one.

At the question, Mike doesn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know. Probably not. It’s not really something I like to bother people with.”

“Bother?” Harvey repeats, unable to stop himself.

“Harvey,” Mike says in a ‘lets be serious here’-tone. “You had to haul me up and make me food, it is a chore to know this, because people feel guilty. Especially since it’s old Army pain. They feel this need to help. Hell, even you, a known uncaring bastard felt the need to do it. I don’t want to push that on people. Besides, it’s not even that bad most of the time.”

It’s the first time he has heard Mike speak about the Army freely and it breaks his heart. Feeling the need to set the record straight, he says: “Mike, stop. Yeah, it’s a little work, but it’s not like you have any control over this. I don’t feel guilty or whatever other emotion you’ll try to pin on me. Believe it or not, I consider you a friend and I don’t mind lending a hand, if you need it. And right now, you just happen to need it.”

If he were to go off Mike’s look, he would think he has grown an extra head. It is as if he has never heard anything like that before.

“Goddammit,” he sighs. “Mike, just accept that this is a thing that is happening. I don’t mind and it is all fine, alright.”

“You- You don’t mind?” Mike asks, like he still isn’t sure.

“I don’t,” Harvey repeats, forcefully. “I have never done anything I don’t want to and I’m not starting now.”

That luckily seems to be something Mike can believe.

“But, just so you know, you can just walk away,” Mike feels the urge to emphasize anyway.

“Okay, I’ll remember that,” Harvey says, not feeling like fighting Mike more on this, since it is apparently not going anywhere anytime soon. There are more important things to focus on. “Now, when this happens, what do you usually do?”

“Just lie in bed,” Mike answers. “If I feel like it I’ll get some water and easy snacks to pile around me. And a hot water bottle. Then I might read or sleep more. But that’s just if it gets like this, most of the time I’m fine and I just try to go on about my day best I can.”

Harvey restrains himself from getting angry at the injustice of it all and the fact that Mike is trying to undersell this, instead choosing to get up. “Where is the hot water bottle?”

Despite all he has said to him, Mike still looks surprised as he tells Harvey. Something Harvey also tries to ignore.

He makes the hot water bottle and checks the time. It’s 8 AM. Technically work starts at 9 AM, something Harvey tends to ignore in favor of showing up whenever he wants, while Mike is usually there at this time (or so he has been told, he’s never really there to check).

However, Louis gets to the office strictly at 9 AM and he is not showing up early just to hand Louis of all people his paperwork. He’ll hand it to him sometime in the morning, he resolves.

With that decision made, he goes to hand Mike the hot water bottle. Mike takes it and puts it over his left shoulder, groaning as he twists to get there. He is still wrapped in his blanket and has an oversized shirt on to sleep in. With the hot water bottle in place he settles back into his pillow kingdom, the grimace slowly fading from his face.

Again Harvey wants to ask what exactly happened, because all he has now are bullets and rain and cold. But he knows better.

So instead he walks around the messy apartment and finds a stack of books, the top one bookmarked indicating this is the stack Mike is working through.

He had once commented on Mike’s messy desk and he explained that he worked with stacks, bookmarking the top thing of the ‘to be read’-stack as he worked his way down and having the done-stack face down, because he basically flipped the through the stack like a book. If you just happened to work on five cases, things got out of hand easily.

Harvey sets them down on the nightstand, then notes how far Mike will have to stretch to grab them, the probable reason he keeps his phone in his bed, just in case something like today happens. So, he takes the top three books and deposits them on the bed instead.

Mike sends him a grateful little look, then takes the top book and starts reading, though to Harvey it will always look like he’s barely scanning it. Mike’s brain always amazes him.

He takes a moment to look at Mike, a kid who has become like a brother to him, someone to protect and guide, and it hits him how small the chances were of them ever meeting, of him even considering hiring Mike. How he almost never ended up in this place with the brilliant, kind and genuine kid.

After the moment has passed, he takes the dirty breakfast plates and brings them to the kitchen. In the background Mike calls out: “Just leave them near the sink. I’ll do the dishes later.”

Harvey takes a look at the sink and concludes that Mike must have been saying that to himself for quite a while, because it is piled high. It’s gross and honestly, Harvey would rather just do the dishes than have to look at them all day. So, he starts to run the tab.

From his place on the bed, Mike hears and yells: “I’m serious, Harvey. Just leave the dishes, I can do them just fine.”

“Mike, these dishes are gross and I have literally nothing better to do,” Harvey calls back. “I never have to do my dishes, because I have a goddamn dishwasher. It’s not the biggest punishment.”

“But it is a punishment,” Mike argues. “So, just leave them. It’s fine, I swear.”

“Just read your damn books, Mike,” Harvey says, proceeding to ignore any other protest Mike makes after that.

When he is done, he leans against the door and asks: “I thought Military personnel is thought to be neat,” not really expecting an answer.

“It is almost like I had five years to redevelop all the bad I habits I already had,” Mike tells him with an amused brow raise. “I’m a messy person by nature. The Army took that from me, I just took it back.”

Harvey is surprised to have gotten such a straightforward answer to his Army question. The end phrasing strikes him as odd, but Mike has turned back to his book already, obviously done with the conversation.

By now it’s a quarter past nine. He’s been at Mike’s for about two hours and done as much as he could to get Mike comfortable. It might be time to deliver on the reason he is ever there in the first place and go bring Louis his goddamn paperwork. Mike should be fine for the time that takes.

So, he starts sorting through the paperwork filled coffee table, trying to recall Mike’s complaining about the case Louis was demanding his help on.

In the end he finds three thick yet completed briefs, which came in yesterday according the date, but have all been clearly proofed in Mike’s handwriting. He holds them up to Mike and asks: “These the paperwork Louis needs?” while texting Ray.

“Yeah,” Mike says. “You going?”

“You look comfortable enough,” Harvey shrugs in explanation.

“Thanks for all this, by the way,” Mike smiles. “I really appreciate it. I’ll likely be able to come in tomorrow, so don’t worry.”

“Wait,” Harvey says, hearing the goodbye, “you do realize I’m coming back after, right?”

“What? Why?” Mike frowns in a confused manner.

For a moment all Harvey can do is look disbelieving at him. He forcefully reminds himself that Mike seems to have no clue what the words ‘taking care of’ mean. Not that he has said them out loud, because he is still Harvey Specter.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, before saying: “Mike, I said, I’m going to lend a hand, if you need it and unless you can make me believe you couldn't use one for the rest of the day, I’m coming back here and you can’t stop me.”

“This is weird, like you’re threatening me with help,” Mike says, for lack of better response, since anything else is pushing the boundaries of emotional displays that have grown between them.

“Alright, I’ll see you in an hour and half or so,” Harvey nods satisfied. “I’m also picking up stuff for me to work on, so Donna is probably going to ask…” the unasked question of how much he can tell her silently tacked on.

“You can just tell her, but I would appreciate if you didn’t mention the shooting thing, or the fact that I’m too much of a dramatic little bitch to get out of bed,” Mike says. “But I think her knowing will help in fighting Louis when I come back to work,” he grins at that and he is right that having Donna’s protection is the best methods against Louis.

Still, Harvey can’t let the wording pass without comment. So, he says: “I won’t, but I don’t really think you’re being a ‘dramatic little bitch.’ Anything else?”

Mike raises a brow, but doesn’t respond to the comment, instead tentatively saying: “I have some briefs you asked for on my desk? I can work on those from here.”

Harvey gives him an assessing look, asking: “You’ll be okay doing that?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mike tells him in a tone that screams ‘stop mother-hening me,’ which is foreign in being directed at Harvey. “I can read just fine, briefs is reading.”

“You’ll also be writing,” Harvey points out, ever the lawyer.

“And I’ll be writing,” Mike concedes. “But my bad shoulder is on the left and I’m right-handed, so – like I said – I’ll be fine.”

After one last look, Harvey believes him and leaves the apartment, sliding into the car that is waiting for him downstairs. Ray asks if everything is alright and Harvey assures him that Mike is okay, just not feeling very well, without giving away any details.

During the drive he finally does the last of his buttons and ties his tie. He is going to look like always and ignore how he is bringing Louis his paperwork, like he’s some sort of delivery boy. He has left his mail room days behind him, please and thank you.

30 minutes later and he is strolling into the cube farm like he owns it. The associates there stare for a second, before pretending to be working really hard. He spots a few glancing at Mike’s empty desk with sick glee in their eyes. They probably think he is here for Mike and that the kid is about to be punished for not showing up.

Harvey finds joy in casually strolling up to Mike’s desk like he expected this (which he did) and taking a stack of briefs bookmarked and right side up. He puts them in his briefcase, taking out the work for Louis, because if he knows the man, he’ll be there any moment.

Louis doesn’t disappoint and indeed comes walking in, already demanding to know where Mike is and what Harvey is doing there, because unlike other people, Louis works hard and needs the briefs that were supposed to be done today.

Casually Harvey waits until Louis is done with his tirade, before smirking and holding out the requested files. “I’m not here to mess up your little schedule, Louis. Not enough fun, honestly. Here, your briefs.”

“Huh?” Louis takes them, his face filled with confusion. “Why do you have these?”

“To give to you,” Harvey answers, like this is a normal thing and Louis is weird for how he is reacting.

“I can see that, Harvey,” Louis snaps. “Why are you delivering Mike’s paperwork?”

“Because I have commandeered him for today, since he is my associate after all,” Harvey pulls something out of his ass. “I’m pretty sure he’s running around like a headless chicken collecting all I need right now, but because Mike care about whatever the fuck you do for some godforsaken reason, he asked me to make sure you got this.”

“And you just did it?” Louis asks, rightfully suspicious.

“I am a man of many mysteries and layers, Louis,” Harvey tells him condescendingly. “You wouldn't get it and that’s okay. Now, I have actual work to do.” And with that he turns around and walks away.

As he does, Louis yells after him: “Don’t think I won’t find out what you’re planning, Harvey! And I am the most mysterious man there is. You don’t even know the depths I have. I’m like the Grand Canyon.”

Then the elevator doors close behind him and he’s off to the fiftieth floor.

Donna is sitting at her desk when he arrives, diligently typing away. Something that ceases the moment he gets there as she asks him: “Where is Mike? He didn’t bring me my morning coffee like he usually does,” as if she is an interrogator.

“Home,” Harvey answers, knowing there will be follow up questions.

“Home?” Donna repeats. “Why? Is he alright?”

“He is technically fine, but old Army injuries are acting up, so he can’t really come in today,” he explains. “I’m picking up some paperwork for us to do, so I can keep an eye on him and ensure that he doesn’t do anything idiotic.”

“Old Army injuries?” Donna asks.

“He asked me not to say,” he tells her apologetically.

“I should go, I can help,” she says, already reaching for her stuff.

“Don’t,” Harvey stops her and she sends him a look. “He already hates that I’m there and thinks I’m being dramatic. He’s barely talking to me. It’s pretty worrying, not going to lie. At this point he is more likely to yell at you if you show up. Besides, I need you here to keep Jessica and Louis off our backs.”

Donna clearly doesn’t like that reply, but gives in. She never passes a chance to bully Louis. So, she sighs: “Alright. What is the story.”

“You’re the best,” Harvey grins.

“I know.”

“Anyway, I told Jessica nothing and she might not even notice that neither me or Mike have shown up today. However, I gave Louis some of the briefs Mike has done for him and he asked why the hell I was doing that,” Harvey explains. “So, I said that Mike was running errands around the city for me and I am just that nice.”

“Tsk, like he’ll believe that,” Donna snorts.

“Exactly,” Harvey agrees. “So, he might come asking questions or go to Jessica. I need you to mollify him and keep me updated on whatever bullshit you feed him.”

“And if Jessica comes asking?” Donna inquires.

“If you can convince her of the same bullshit as Louis, try that and I’ll deal with the fallout. Otherwise just tell her to call me.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you, Donna.”

“Of course,” she smiles kindly. “Now grab you paperwork and go help your boy.��

He wants to protest the moniker, but is reminded of the scene of this morning when Mike was reading and how content he felt. Suddenly he feels incapable of protesting it, so he just ignores it and goes to collect some of his own paperwork.

Then he bids Donna farewell, promising to tell her if anything happens, before leaving again. He sighs when back in the car, glad to leave the place behind him, despite the fact it feels more like home than his own condo.

Half an hour later, he is again laboring up the steps, wondering why Mike hasn’t tried to fight his landlord over this neglect, especially since the kid apparently does this while carrying his bike each day.

When he finally makes it, he unlocks the door and is immediately greeted by a loud thump and a groan. His heart beats with worry and he hurries to the bedroom, calling Mike’s name.

In the bedroom, Mike is lying curled onto his side, clutching his hip and shoulder as he groans again. Next to him on the floor are the books Harvey left there. He looks fine, beyond the obvious and relief fills Harvey’s bones.

“Holy hell, Mike,” he breathes. “You fucking scared me. What an earth were you even trying to do?”

Mike looks up pitifully and answers: “I just wanted to go to the bathroom. Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have shoved my cane in the back of my closet.”

“Cane?” Harvey exclaims, unable to hide the shock at the revelation.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike replies, waving a hand vaguely. “They gave me one. I should probably use it more, but Trevor always said it made me look like a grandfather and the stares are fucking uncomfortable.”

Harvey tries to process that this is a thing (the urge to strangle Trevor is familiar and back in full force) as he asks: “Do you want me to grab it?”

“Can’t hurt, but if you don’t mind helping me hobble to the bathroom, it’s up to you,” Mike answers, pushing himself into a seated position with his right arm, wincing as he does.

The blankets are now pooled around him and Harvey can see that his is in dressed in nothing but a shirt and trunks. He stretches and Harvey can spot a nasty scar on his left shoulder when the wide sleeve slides down. Mike groans and they can hear bones crack.

With that done, he rubs his eyes, before looking at Harvey, who offers a hand and says: “I don’t know how long it’ll take to find it.”

“Smart,” Mike nods. “I have to go really bad.”

Harvey gets on his right side to avoid agitating the scared shoulder on the left, letting Mike sling an arm around him, before hauling him to his feet. As he does, he notices there is also a scar on Mike’s right hip that snakes out from under his trunks. But he doesn’t comment on it.

As they go, Mike makes small pained noises that make Harvey want to fight someone. He also apologizes a few times to Harvey for being an inconvenience, as well as comment how fucking embarrassing this is.

While Harvey can understand being embarrassed about being helped to the bathroom, he shrugs it off. He also shuts the inconvenience thing down real fast.

Mike pees. He waits outside. Then they make the track back to the bed. Harvey can’t help, but peek at the nasty looking scars, continually picturing Mike bleeding out somewhere. An irrational fear grips him as he thinks of Mike not making it.

Of course, Mike notices it, but neither brings it up just yet. Harvey just hands him the paperwork and tells him about what went down at the office as he digs through the closet for the cane.

“Maybe I should have tried to hold on to a bit of that cleanness,” Mike comments as he watches Harvey dig further and further, the ground around him now filled with all the other crap he had stuffed in there haphazardly.

“Why didn’t you?” Harvey asks, seeing an opening and remembering the odd phrasing from earlier that morning.

He can feel Mike’s eyes burn into his back, but he doesn’t stop looking for the cane, content to wait for a reply and already prepared to never get one.

“Like I said, I’m a messy person,” Mike’s voice comes from behind, surprisingly answering. “In the Army you’re supposed to be a cog in a bigger machine. There is no room to be a person, to be anything but what they need you to be. They forced me to be this clean person, they changed me and when I got back, I tried to find who I was again. And I am just a messy person.”

“You talk about it like the Army did something to you,” Harvey comments idly, mulling over the words.

“And?” Mike sounds defensive.

“Nothing,” Harvey shrugs. “Most soldiers talk about the brotherhood, how they miss it, how it taught them things. Not used to hearing anyone be so bitter about it.”

Mike snorts: “That’s because they really try to push that narrative to find new recruits. Anyone being critical is quickly shut down or doesn’t make it.”

“Doesn’t make it?” Harvey asks, as he triumphantly pulls the cane from the closet, finally facing Mike again as he holds it.

The kid smiles and shakes his head, taking it and placing it next to his bed. The way he handles it looks familiar and Harvey again wonders what happened to him and if he’ll get an answer or if Mike has shared enough for today.

“Yeah, doesn’t make it,” Mike surprises him by answering when he’s done. He looks right at him and says: “I saw you watching.” Harvey looks guilty at that. “It’s alright, I get it. But I’m one of the lucky ones. We were hit by a spray of bullets, three got me. My shoulder, my back and my hip. I got an honorable medical discharge and they shipped me back to the US where I got the care I needed for the lowest cost, before they threw me on the streets and told me to figure it out. That is being lucky, Harvey.”

Harvey is quiet as he listens. He never served, never even thought of it, just blindly listened to whatever he heard from people who didn’t serve either. What Mike is telling him is all news to him and he wonders how he never knew.

“I had just received three heavy blows to places that were already damaged by always carrying a heavy pack around,” Mike continues. “I had no college degree, since I joined after I was kicked out, because there was nowhere else for me to go. What could I do? Nothing. They don’t tell you that you’re done when you leave the Army.”

At this point it’s less an answer to Harvey’s question and more a rant. It sounds like it has been trapped inside Mike for a long time, so Harvey doesn’t interrupt.

“I was constantly in pain and with my record before the Army, no doctor was willing to prescribe me painkillers, so I turned back to drugs. I couldn't work and was too weak to care for Grammy, so I spiraled back into criminal activity again. The Army doesn’t get anyone back on their feet, they just take and spit people out. They destroyed my future more than drugs and cheating did,” Mike says, breathing heavily.

In the back of his mind, Harvey feels guilty about taking Mike’s one pain relief when he started working for Pearson Hardman. However, he also knows that weed was keeping Mike chained down in his shitty situation.

Still, he resolves to ask how Mike manages his pain now.

“Hell, I can’t walk through a metal detector normally anymore,” Mike rant on, “because they just sewed the bullets back in order to get bleeding to stop enough to drag me out of there. Though, not before digging around in them with a knife, making sure the scaring would be horrible, as they decided to fuck it to save time and my life. And, now, if they try to get them out, they might paralyze me for life. Not to mention all the mental bullshit that comes with it.”

“And I have to live with the fact that I’m one of the lucky ones,” he is bordering on hysteria now and Harvey isn’t sure if he should intervene.

His fists are clenched and he is shaking slightly. Tentatively, Harvey sits down next to him, putting a hand on the back of his neck as he softly says: “…Mike.”

“I used to have really bad nightmares when I just came back,” Mike confesses softly. “I remember everything I saw out there in vivid detail. I hoped the weed would dim them, but it never did.” He chuckles bitterly. “I still have them actually, I just don’t wake up screaming anymore, because I have become so desensitized to them. It’s just a part of my life now. Part of me.”

At the soft, broken tone Harvey can’t take it anymore and carefully pulls Mike into a side hug. He pretends not to feel the tears slowly staining his suit.

“Sorry,” Mike sniffles after a while.

“Please stop apologizing for the most reasonable reactions and things you can’t control,” Harvey tells him gently. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, it’s okay to be upset. Hell, to be traumatized.”

“Ah, so-, uhm,” Mike clears his throat. “Thank you. You don’t have to do this, but I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t expect today to be this much. It’s been a while since it was this bad, I guess all sorts of things came to the front.”

“It’s no issue at all,” Harvey says, nearly admitting how glad he is Mike didn’t hide this from him and that he can be here for him.

Mike doesn’t really reply to that, just leans further into Harvey’s side and wipes his eyes. “It’s hard to explain how bad it was. But no one cares about you out there and no one cares when you get back. You see the worst shit and then you just have to report for duty the next day like nothing happened. Like you didn’t try and fail to hold the blood of your friend inside him hours before. Like you don’t want to go curl up into a ball, cry and go home.”

“Is that the reason you don’t like General Curtis?” Harvey asks, remembering the dislike that radiated off Mike, hidden under that impassive mask, while the General seemed friendly.

At that Mike snorts bitterly and pulls back a bit as he explains: “When I knew him, he was Sargent Curtis. Friendly, but sneaky. I’m a Corporal, I was a team leader, but I reported to him. He took pride in me being under him, since I was bright and he could take credit for my successes, without having to take the risks.”

Harvey is just starting to think that sounds a bit like him, when Mike says: “He was kind of like the anti-you. Pretended to care then stabbed you in the back without teaching you a thing.

That earns Mike a raised brow, since not many would describe Harvey as the opposite of that, but Mike ignores that and moves on: “Anyway, we had just come back from one of the shittiest missions to date. We were all exhausted, so I told my men to take the evening, while I went to check up on the wounded. Maybe write a few letters to widows or now childless mothers.”

A part of Harvey doesn’t want to know how this story ends and his heart breaks for Mike, who has lived it.

“The next morning, I stumble back to camp and Sargent Curtis is in my face screaming about why my platoon didn’t show up for evening drills,” Mike continues. “I had just returned from the medical tent. Two of the three wounded didn’t make it through the night. I had held their hands the entire night and promised them that they would be okay. That they would go home soon.”

Mike stares unseeingly at the ground. “I decided then, the whole Military could choke and I would never sign up for another tour. However, a week later that decision was made for me. I will never forget that fucking asshole. I wonder whose coattail he rode to General.”

“Fuck. Mike,” Harvey breathes after a second.

“I’m fine now,” Mike assures him, giving him a crooked smile that is only half believable. Then he clears his throat and blinks. “Wow, I just really dumped that all on you.”

“You looked like you needed it,” Harvey says, adding, “And I’m the guy you tell, remember?”

That gets a laugh out of Mike, which makes Harvey prouder than it has the right to. Mike softly elbows him and rolls his eyes. “Alright, Mr. Lawyer-man. Just hand me my paperwork. I need a distraction right now.”

“Course,” Harvey agrees, having pushed more than enough for today.

The rest of the day passes slowly, but companionably. Harvey puts the stuff back in the closet in a more organized manner and gets lunch at some point. He also organizes Mike’s coffee table and rearranges the mess on the couch, so that he can comfortably work there.

It’s about half past 3 that Harvey’s phone rings. Donna’s face smiles up from the screen and he picks up with a smooth: “Hello, Donna. What’s up?”

“I’m trying to keep your line busy, since Jessica was just here and she is probably on her way to her office to interrogate you,” Donna informs him.

“Louis didn’t believe you?” he asks.

“No, he did, she just happened to hear what I fed Louis and didn’t believe that,” Donna says. “She asked me what was really going on and I told her you weren’t really out on a free day, but finalizing the paperwork for a deal for the company of Louis’ sister and didn’t want him to know.”

“Let me guess, she didn’t think I would be that considerate.”

“Bingo,” Donna agrees. “So I hope you have something to tell her, because I’m sure she’ll be able to find you otherwise. By the way, how is Mike doing?”

Harvey glances at Mike, who sends him a questioning brow. He is still in bed with the hot water bottle now on his hip, surrounded by paperwork, marker behind his ear. “He is good,” he tells Donna. “We’ll come up with something.”

“Alright, bye,” Donna says. “I’m off to call Jessica and stall her to give you time.” Then she hangs up with a click.

“What did Donna need?” he asks.

“Jessica can call any moment, because she didn’t believe our excuses for not being in today,” Harvey answers, getting up and walking back over to Mike. “What are we telling her?”

“We can say I’m just sick?” Mike offers.

“Wouldn’t work, she knows I hate being sick and avoid sick people like my life depends on it. If you were contagious, I wouldn’t be here,” Harvey shakes his head, falling down on the bed as he shoots the idea down.

“So now what?” Mike asks.

Harvey has another option, but he doesn’t know how it will be received. Carefully he suggests: “We can also just tell her the truth. We’re lawyers, she knows the anti-discrimination laws, you’re entitled to sick days and aid.”

“And what about you, huh,” Mike challenges, not shooting the idea down, but also not pleased with it at all.

“I’m doing my work and ensuring you can still do yours in these circumstances,” Harvey says. “She also doesn’t really care if I work from home, though working in office is better for our image, handier and better for if we have walk-ins. I still did my part.”

“No,” Mike shakes his head. “I’m not going to tell Jessica I’m not in, because my bones just hurt a little bit. She already doesn’t like me very much, I’m not giving her more reasons to think I’m a whiny little bitch.”

“I asked you to stop with calling yourself a whiny little bitch,” Harvey reminds him. “You have an actual medical condition that is not a moral failing. She’ll understand and then you can discuss accessibility aid.”

Mike scowls: “I don’t need accessibility aid.”

Harvey sighs. “Why not?”

“Everyone there already thinks you’re giving me special treatment and I have been functioning fine until now,” Mike says. “If I randomly show up with a cane or get help, everyone will have questions and I don’t need the extra shit. I get enough already.”

“If that happens you can file a discrimination lawsuit,” Harvey points out. “I’ll represent you, pro-bono.”

“No,” Mike says.

“What are you going to do then?” Harvey asks. He doesn’t want to force Mike, but he also doesn’t get it. “How are you managing now. You said yourself you should use the cane more and weed isn’t really an option to cope anymore. Are you just going to swallow a bunch of Tylenol and keep your fingers crossed?”

“I’ve become immune to Tylenol,” Mike shrugs. “So, I’ll just deal like I’ve always done and I’ll be fine.”

“And if a day like this rolls around again?”

“I’ll call in sick,” Mike says. “I should have done that today, honestly. It was my plan after calling you, but I thought that counted. Next time, I’m calling Donna.”

“Oh, yeah, because Donna will let you get away with being miserable like this,” Harvey points out the flawed logic.

“Dammit, Harvey, why are you pushing me here?” Mike explodes.

“All I’m wondering is if all this can be lessened or even prevented, if you tell Jessica,” Harvey replies. “If you had a good chair, if you could get a moment to stretch, if you could use your cane, would the chances of having a day this bad be lower? I know you don’t want to tell anyone and you don’t have to. You know they’re legally not allowed to ask you. Throw title 1 of the ADA in their faces and try to give less fucks.”

“People don’t really tend to believe it’s this bad,” Mike points out softly.

“Jesus, Mike, you got shot. Multiple times. The bullets are still in you,” Harvey says. “It’s pretty hard to deny. Just tell me, if it would help.”

Mike is quiet for a moment, then he shrugs: “I guess, the strain would be less. It might help, but these things are unpredictable.”

“Alright,” Harvey nods. “Look, all I’m saying here is tell Jessica. You don’t have to do anything more with it, but think about it for a minute.”

It’s quiet, then Harvey’s phone starts ringing again, this time Jessica’s severe eyes stare judgmentally at them and Harvey says: “Make that a second.”

“Wait. What are you going to say?” Mike asks, stressed out.

“We’ll see,” Harvey replies cheerfully, before picking up. “Hello, Jessica. What can I do for you today?”

“Harvey.” How Jessica can say so much with just his name, he’ll never know.

“That is me, yes,” he says anyway, instead of being serious. As he stalls, he makes a few inquiring faces at Mike, who is still thinking, brows pinched.

“You know why I am calling you,” she tells him.

“Probably, but before I confess to something you don’t know yet, remind me?” Harvey answers.

“I have become aware that you and your little minion, Mike, aren’t in the office today,” Jessica informs him. “Now, this would be only mildly worrying, if you didn’t have Donna lying straight to my face. So, what the hell are you doing out there, Harvey?”

“Nothing, I swear,” he says, feeling a bit like a boy called to the principal’s office

“Harvey, this is not a time to play games with me,” Jessica tells him sternly. “I let a lot of the shit you do slide, but there are still rules that need to be followed and I can’t have you drag Mike out of work for your little escapades. People talk, Harvey, you know this. What am I supposed to say if the partners start asking why I’m letting you and your associate have days off without explanation?”

“Yes, Jessica, I know,” Harvey agrees, turning serious. She is not amused in any way and now is not the time to be cocky or cute with her.

“So, I’m asking you again,” she says. “Where the hell are you?”

And for this first time in a long time, Harvey flounders. While he has an opinion on what Mike should do, he’s not just telling Jessica when Mike said no. However, she needs some sort of explanation and if he lies to her now and she finds out, he is done for.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, waving his hand around as if it will give him inspiration.

Mike has been sitting next to him, listening as he attemps to cover for Mike. He has heard everything, but has also taken the time to think about what has been said. So, when Harvey runs aground, he plucks the phone out of his hands and puts on his most chipper voice as he greets: “Hi, Jessica, how are you today?”

It isn’t often that he hears that tone, but surprised, Jessica answers: “Mike? Why are you here?”

“I thought you knew Harvey and I were in the same location,” Mike shoots back.

“Are you toying with me, kid?” And when Jessica says it, it doesn’t sound as fond as when Harvey does. “Why isn’t Harvey answering?”

“Because Harvey was about to lie for me, even though he didn’t want to,” Mike tells her honestly, hoping the switch in tone will throw her off enough to prevent her anger.

“What?”

Ah, success!

“He is in my apartment,” Mike confesses. “I didn’t want him to tell you, because I don’t like talking about it, but he is right in that as my employer you should probably know.”

Jessica sounds like she is preparing for the worst as she asks what the hell they’re doing and Mike suddenly realizes how that might sound. He smartly chooses to ignore it.

“I used to be in the Military,” he says quickly, trying to get it over with as fast as possible. “I did three tours in Afghanistan and was honorably discharged after I got shot in the back. Today the neglect I’ve put my body through caught up and put me out of commission. Harvey came to bring me my paperwork and ensure I was alright.”

The line is quiet. Mike has done the impossible and rendered Jessica speechless for a moment as he processes all he has just said.

“That is- Ahum- Thank you for your service,” she says and Harvey sees Mike wrinkle his nose in disgust at the thanks.

“No problem,” is what he awkwardly replies.

“You said the issues were caused by neglect, has this anything to do with work conditions?” she then goes on in a businesslike manner, immediately trying to barricade herself in legally in case of a later lawsuit about the accessibility of Pearson Hardman.

“I- uh,” Mike fumbles, not yet prepared for this part of the conversation.

Harvey sends him a questioning, concerned look and Mike smiles at him, before turning back to the phone.

“Overall the work conditions have not directly impaired me. At the moment, I’m in a dialogue with Harvey on how to improve my work area. The only thing I would currently note is the atmosphere in the cube farm.” As he talks he chooses his words carefully and Harvey listens in with pride at how far Mike has come lawyer-wise.

“How so?” Jessica asks him and Harvey can picture her sitting there perfectly.

“While I get the hazing culture, it has discouraged me from using my cane,” Mike explains. “It helps lessen the strain. However, I’m sure that right now it would get missing sometime during the day or it will be broken. Not to mention the verbal abuse.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Jessica says. “When you’re able to come in, please head to my office so that we can discuss this further. Bring your discharge papers and doctor’s notes, since we do need to see some proof. And tell Harvey to report what you two agree on surrounding this.”

“Certainly,” Mike promises. “And thank you for your understanding.”

“Of course,” Jessica replies. “We at Pearson Hardman promote a diverse and accepting work environment.”

Mike bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at the obvious sales line and says his goodbyes before hanging up. Then he sags into himself, the anxiety suddenly leaving him.

“Are you okay?” Harvey asks.

“Yeah,” Mike smiles. “That was just really stressful and scary, but she was nicer about it then expected.”

“Jessica is a black woman at the top of a multi-million law firm,” Harvey points out. “She has been diversity points and knows how shitty it is to not be seen as human beyond that. She has been pushing more diversity and less discrimination ever since she became name partner, but not in that corporate way you so often see.”

“Well, it’s appreciated,” Mike says. “Now I just have to figure out how I’m going to face the entire firm and its ridicule.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Harvey assures him and the brow he gets back tells him all he needs to know about what Mike thinks of that. He amends his answer slightly to: “Well, it might, but now you have me, Donna and Jessica backing you. And Louis, because Louis wants to lick Jessica’s boots at every moment.”

Mike considers that for a moment. “Alright, yeah. But it might still happen, before they can get reprimanded, or whatever. And that will suck.”

There isn’t much Harvey can do about it and that does, indeed, sucks. So, he wracks his brain for a moment, then offers: “You can work in my office the first few days, until the word has spread.”

“Thanks, Harvey,” Mike smiles. “But I think I’m passing. Your couch is nice, but working on it is killing for my back. I’ll just have to deal, I suppose. But I am keeping you to that offer, should it be necessary.”

“Alright,” Harvey nods and they shake on it. Then he says: “We should probably have that dialogue about how to improve your work conditions now.”

“Come on, man, that’s not necessary,” Mike tries to play it off. “I just came up with that so that I could hang up on Jessica as fast as possible. It’s fine, I swear.”

“And I thought it was a good idea,” Harvey raises a challenging brow. “In fact, I have already suggested a few things like a better chair and stretch room. If you tell me what would help, then I can say to what extend that can be arranged and then we can leave the subject be.”

“I hate it when you go all lawyer on me, did I ever tell you that?” Mike complains and Harvey just grins victoriously.

“So?”

For a moment, Mike is stubbornly silent, then he gives in. “I mean, a better chair would be nice, I guess. One with better back support and wheels so I don’t have to get up for every little thing. And if I didn’t have to continuously run around to bring people my finished paperwork, but that can’t always be helped, so whatever. Like I said, I’m fine most of the time. Hell, most people don’t even notice.”

Harvey guiltily counts himself among those people as he thinks for a second. “A chair should be no problem. And if you call, me and Donna can collect my paperwork, which is most of your workload. Louis is the other half, so that will depend on him, but maybe we can ask that paralegal-” “Rachel,” “Yes, Rachel, if she can take your work if she has the time.”

“I don’t know about that, Harvey. She already hates that associates and partners treat her like a secretary,” Mike shakes his head. “I would feel bad asking her.”

“She is your friend, right?” Harvey asks and Mike nods. So, Harvey says: “Well, then she might make an exception for you. Otherwise you can ask one of the associates, because Louis and Norma aren’t going to. Though, you never know.”

“Keep it as a backup option should Louis be shit?” Mike suggest.

“Sure,” Harvey agrees. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of,” Mike says.

“Alright. Then I’m calling Donna, so she can get on that and because she has probably been dying to know what’s happening ever since Jessica left her desk.” And Mike snorts at that as Harvey starts to dial Donna.

He was right about her curiosity, because she pounces the moment she picks up. Dutifully Harvey relays everything to her, ending in her promising that Louis will be collecting his own paperwork one way or another.

The rest of the day passes by peacefully. Mike’s body decides to be kinder and Mike can use the cane to get to the bathroom on his own when he needs it again. Harvey does a few groceries, claiming he just wants to cook for a change, but also getting Mike a few basics.

They eat at the small table Mike has and talk about upcoming cases. When it’s time to leave, Mike stays seated and tells Harvey he would normally walk him to the door, but you know…

“Mike, you live in a broom closet, you can be anywhere and still have walked someone to the door,” Harvey informs him when he says that.

“Shut up.” Mike sticks his middle finger up at him, but he is smiling again, so Harvey counts it as a win anyway.

At the door he hesitates again, then asks: “You sure, you’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m not made of porcelain, Harvey,” Mike rolls his eyes. “I had a bad day, that’s it. Tomorrow I’ll probably take a cab to work instead of my bike. That’s the worst of it.”

“Okay, but if you can’t come in tomorrow, call me,” Harvey is mollified, but makes Mike promise anyway.

“I will,” Mike says. “Now shoo. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Alright, alright.” And with that Harvey finally leaves, wondering how his day ended up like this and reflecting how much he didn’t mind. How much he missed being needed for a change.

He gets a lot of people asking for his help, of course, but this protective caring feeling is something he only knows from Markus, who hasn’t asked him for anything except money in years. It’s kinda nice. Makes him realize how much his friendship with Mike means to him and how badly he wants to hold onto it.

Harvey promises himself to have Mike’s back no matter what. Vows to ensure the kid is alright. To deal with whoever gives him even the slightest grain of shit.

So, the next day he gets in early. As if she has read his mind, Donna is there as well. He greets her and asks after developments.

“Louis will have a kid named Harold collect Mike’s paperwork and the chair got delivered yesterday in the late afternoon,” she informs him.

“How did you manage that?” Harvey asks, impressed.

“I have my contacts,” she shrugs nonchalantly. “What about Mike? Hear anything from him yet?”

“No, nothing so far.”

“If he keeps his usually schedule, he should get in at any moment,” Donna says after checking her watch.

“Jessica told him to report to her immediately, but perhaps he’s dropping his bag off at his desk first,” Harvey tells her, watching the hallway intently.

At 8 AM exactly, Mike steps off the elevator. His suit is done up neater than Harvey has seen it before, as if it’s an armor. His satchel is thrown over his right shoulder and he is leaning on his cane. On his face he’s wearing a confident grin that Harvey can see is partially fake. In his other hand he has a coffee carrier with three coffees in it.

He casually makes his way to Donna’s desk and sets down the coffee carrier. He hands her order, before giving Harvey his as he says: “I thought you would be here already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harvey asks as he takes a sip. Exactly how he likes it.

Mike drinks his own and grins. “Nothing, just that you can never deny you care again and I will be using this knowledge against you.”

“Don’t you have a meeting with Jessica to get to?” Harvey says, not denying what Mike says, but also not acknowledging it. He has an image to maintain after all.

“Wow,” Mike snorts, taking a sip. Then he explains: “I’m drinking my coffee first. I usually do that while I walk, but my hands were full.”

“How are you feeling?” Donna asks and Harvey is gratefully she does. If he had done it, it would have sounded overbearing or like he wanted to coddle Mike after his explicit wish not to, but he is curious about the answer and Donna is close enough to it, yet uninvolved enough, to be able to ask him.

“I’m fine, Donna. Thank you,” he answers with a kind smile. “I had forgotten how much this thing helped until I used it again.”

“It makes you look very refined,” Donna tells him with a smile of her own. “And don’t worry about Louis, he was offering to be your assistant when I was done with him.”

Mike laughs at the mental image. “What would the world do without you, Donna?”

“Crash and burn probably,” Donna replies in that serious yet cheeky way only she can pull off successfully.

“Probably, yeah,” Mike agrees. Then downs the rest of his coffee, before saying: “Well, I’m off to Jessica then. Wish me luck.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Donna assures him.

“Yeah, that,” Harvey agrees.

Mike takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders as he hypes himself up. For a moment, Harvey can see the soldier clearly as he imagines all the muscle bulk Mike must have lost to his injury and drug addiction that was caused by it.

Then Mike walks away, the tapping of the cane announcing his arrival. He looks like a proper lawyer on a mission and Harvey can’t be more proud of the man his kid is becoming.

~~

A/N:

I feel so guilty abt my chronic pain (which, granted, is less bad than Mike’s) and I feel so dramatic, so welcome to the ~projection hours~

Harvey: *shows up and helps Mike even though he didn’t have to and is known not to*

Also Harvey: What if Mike notices I care?

Mike: *is so confused by said care*

Harvey: Nvm, I must tell this idiot I care

While writing this fic, I realizes that you would never know that Louis is one of my fave characters in the show. He just always gets the short end of the stick in my writing for some reason?? (that is in character though, lmao, poor Louis)

And remember kids, hate the US Military, be compassionate for the veterans who are ground up and used by the machine of war. My other PSA is, someone’s medical history is no one’s business except their own :)

(@liar-or-lawyer bc you asked to be tagged)

[findopulencerp]

                     𝖟𝖊𝖇𝖚𝖑𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖑𝖊

he appears as though he was born thirty-eight years ago but is actually sixty-one, he is a faerie who lives in ashmore as the councilman for town funds and co-owner of the vault and is an advisor of duszek decorous. he looks an awful lot like sebastian stan.

"here’s a fun little fact. the word fortune comes from the latin word fortuna, goddess of chance. fortuna, so pretty, right? the thing is, real fortune has nothing to do with chance or luck. fortuna is bullshit. real fortune is calculated, it’s relentless, fucking criminal even. you have to make fortune happen”

tw: adultery, homophobia, cult Born to a unique family would be putting it mildly. Zebulon is the product of two wandering faeries that found each other and joined a commune.  Born second in his family, he was raised with full blooded siblings and adopted siblings in this unique commune on the outskirts of Opulence.  Throughout his childhood, his parents and the other adults on the compound tried to instill in him the importance of nature, being one with nature, and the shallowness of the material world.  However, since he could remember he always felt different and never grasped these concepts.  Homeschooled until the age of fourteen, he lived a sheltered life and was then thrust into the public education system.  Needless to say, Zebulon struggled at first being the freak child from the compound and people comparing the commune to a dangerous cult. It was in his teen years that he learned his mother actually came from an affluent, strict, traditional family in the fae realm.   Suddenly everything clicked for him, he was never meant for this flower child life.  No, he was destined for greatness.  After graduating high school as valedictorian, Zebulon found it important to go to the fae realm and get to know his grandparents better.  For over a decade, they started to groom him into the proper gentleman that would make the family name proud and pressured him to find a wife that would help achieve these dreams. When Zebulon left the fae realm, he took on his grandfather’s name, in honor of him and to completely change his identity.  The fae went straight into college getting a MBA and finding his future wife that fit the perfect mold of what he needed for success, she came from wealth and opened doors for him.  Only problem, this was a marriage of convenience for him.  Mark had always been attracted to men, although he never told anyone, because the times he grew up in, it was not something that was accepted in the society he wanted to be part of. Over the years, his wife and him became socialites of Opulence often hosting charity events at their home.  They are the proud parents of six children who often test their parents’ patience and on a couple of times had to have their parents’ bail them out and pay people off to cover the story of their misbehavior.  Currently, Mark works for the town council in charge of the town’s funds and how to allocate the money to the different department agencies.  He also works as an advisor to the Duszek Decorous ensuring his family’s legacy as well as co-owning The Vault with his closest friend Rowan. Just one problem with this picture perfect family, there are a lot of things hidden.  Through the duration of his marriage, Mark has had multiple affairs with different men over the years and is currently having another one that he is keeping hidden.

“what power did he attain when settling in opulence?”

When Mark settled in Opulence, he noticed the growth in his powers.  Suddenly, he was able to understand people’s emotions and often used this gift to move up in the world by manipulating the person.

this character is…taken

[lokiondisneyplus]

“The Gilded Age” production designer Bob Shaw didn’t want to go overboard as he gave the grand home of Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) a “lived-in” feeling. He hung portraits on top of one another and used patterns on the wallpaper, the curtains and the chairs — all of this to show old money. “The layering is what gave that sense that they had lived there for 20 years,” says Shaw.

Airing last summer, Disney+’s “Loki” was still Emmy eligible, earning six nominations. Emmy nominee Kasra Farahani was tasked by series creator Michael Waldron to build a look inspired by “Mad Men” meets “Blade Runner.” Farahani says the architecture of the Time Variance Authority offices, where a lot of action takes place, was influenced by brutalism and Soviet-style modernism. The palette, materials and whimsical patterns also used are very much inspired by mid-century modernism. Says Farahani, “Creating this cognitive dissonance in the audience and characters going through the TVA, they can’t tell if this is a friendly space or a lethal one.”

Bill Groom, a four-time Emmy winner for “Boardwalk Empire,” seeks his first win for Amazon Prime Video’s “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.” Among his set builds was the Wolford, a strip club.

With theaters shuttered, Groom built the vaudeville stage from scratch. Red and gold were commonly used for theaters in that era, and Groom decked out the set with a bar, dressing rooms and vintage seats including mirrors and lights. His piece de resistance? The chandelier, which was last used in 1964’s “My Fair Lady.”

Production designer Francesca Di Mottola had to tackle a nursery for “The Great.” Her brief — extravagance, reflecting Peter’s (Nicholas Hoult) psyche.

“Stranger Things” revealed more of the ominous Hawkins National Laboratory, which housed dark experiments. Production designer Chris Trujillo enlarged the lab’s playroom, revealing the full rainbow mural only hinted at in previous seasons. He expanded on other areas of the lab, building more hallways and adding closed doors within the facility. “It [showed] more of what the rest of the underground program looked like, before it gets to the dark events that we learn about Season 4,” he says.

[calamiita]

⇢  introducing  stefano  giordano  ,  the  28  year  old  cis  male  ,  heir  of  giordano  .  he  is  known  for  being  charismatic  ,  sardonic  ,  loyal  and  arrogant  .  stefano  bears  an  uncanny  resemblance  to  daniel  sharman  .

▌ full  name  ;  stefano  giordano.

▌ age  ;   28.

▌ height  ;  6′2.

▌ gender  ;  cis  male.

▌ martial  status  ;  engaged. 

▌ pronouns  ;  he  /  him.

▌ sexuality  ;  heterosexual.

▌  eye  color  ;  blue.

▌  hair  color  ;  brown.

▌ father  ;  to  be  named.

▌ mother  ;  to  be  named.

▌ siblings  ;  none.

▌ children  ;  none.

▌  extended  family  ;  playable  cousin  ,  to  be  named.

it  is  said  that  stefano  giordano  came  into  this  world  kicking  and  screaming  and  hasn’t  stopped  since  .  his  father  had  become  aware  from  a  young  age  that  his  son’s  attention  made  habits  of  wandering  elsewhere  and  the  little  boy  that  one  day  was  meant  to  run  the  giordano  bank  ,  wasn’t  fit  nor  interested  in  molding  into  the  boxes  he  deemed  necessary  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  household  .

perhaps  his  defiance  and  thirst  for  adventure  stemmed  from  the  strict  hand  that  always  rest  upon  him  ,  or  perhaps  it  was  the  clear  indication  that  his  parents  were  consistently  trying  to  conceive  another  child  ,  more  worthy  (  more  easily  influenced  )  to  take  his  place  .  for  a  short  while  ,  attention  and  rules  lessened  during  their  quest  .  that  until  ,  a  doctor  confirmed  there  would  be  no  more  pregnancies  in  their  future  . 

when  that  shoe  dropped  ,  his  father  became  more  persistent  than  ever  in  grooming  him  no  matter  what  the  cost  .  his  silly  hobbies  were  regarded  as  futile  and  demanded  to  be  stopped  in  favor  for  learning  all  that  he  needed  to  know  to  succeed  in  banking  .  enjoying  drink  ,  arts  ,  music  ,  sleeping  with  women  who  exchanged  in  acts  for  florins  ,  these  were  helped  to  conceal  from  his  parents  by  his  dear  cousin  ,  the  child  his  father  most  likely  would’ve  preferred  .

▌  speed  facts  ;  

once  on  his  way  back  from  rome  at  the  mere  age  of  sixteen  ,  he  and  his  men  were  rushed  by  those  loyal  to  someone  on  lombardi’s  side  .  the  attackers  managed  to  kill  two  of  his  men  and  nearly  him  .  he  sports  a  scar  across  his  left  cheek  as  a  souvenir  .

a  lot  of  his  recklessness  in  action  stemmed  from  youth  .  as  he  grew  older  ,  his  impulse  and  bad  behavior  dwindled  into  a  sharp  ,  yet  sarcastic  and  sometimes  deadly  tongue  .  he  understands  he  has  no  choice  but  to  continue  the  giordano  business  ,  there  isn’t  a  way  out  of  his  destiny  .  does  it  mean  he  will  do  so  without  the  occasional  hidden  eye  rolls  ?  absolutely  not  .

he’s  incredibly  against  his  new  engagement  to  a  lombardi  ,  and  as  arrogant  as  he  is  ,  believes  he’ll  somehow  convince  the  king  this  is  wrong  or  figure  out  another  way  to  stop  it  before  either  of  them  are  officially  wed  .  personal  issues  aside  ,  his  loyalty  is  to  his  family  and  friends  that  he  extends  to  everyone  on  giordano  .  he  is  after  all  a  product  of  age  old  rivalry  . 

deep  down  ,  his  father’s  rejection  from  the  moment  he  could  talk  and  understand  properly  has  greatly  effected  his  ability  to  let  others  in  .  he  associates  the  noble  life  and  everything  to  come  with  it  to  the  man  ,  thus  bringing  himself  to  loathe  most .  a  scorned  part  of  him  wishes  for  simple  life  .

[greywoodrpg]

𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕖

he appears as though he was born thirty-eight years ago but is actually sixty-one, he is a faerie who lives in acacia heights as the councilman for town funds and co-owner of the vault and is an advisor of whimsical aosan. he looks an awful lot like sebastian stan.

"here’s a fun little fact. the word fortune comes from the latin word fortuna, goddess of chance. fortuna, so pretty, right? the thing is, real fortune has nothing to do with chance or luck. fortuna is bullshit. real fortune is calculated, it’s relentless, fucking criminal even. you have to make fortune happen”

tw: adultery, homophobia, cult

Born to a unique family would be putting it mildly. Zebulon is the product of two wandering faeries that found each other and joined a commune.  Born second in his family, he was raised with full blooded siblings and adopted siblings in this unique commune on the outskirts of Greywood.  Throughout his childhood, his parents and the other adults on the compound tried to instill in him the importance of nature, being one with nature, and the shallowness of the material world.  However, since he could remember he always felt different and never grasped these concepts.  Homeschooled until the age of fourteen, he lived a sheltered life and was then thrust into the public education system.  Needless to say, Zebulon struggled at first being the freak child from the compound and people comparing the commune to a dangerous cult. It was in his teen years that he learned his mother actually came from an affluent, strict, traditional family in the fae realm.   Suddenly everything clicked for him, he was never meant for this flower child life.  No, he was destined for greatness.  After graduating high school as valedictorian, Zebulon found it important to go to the fae realm and get to know his grandparents better.  For over a decade, they started to groom him into the proper gentleman that would make the family name proud and pressured him to find a wife that would help achieve these dreams. When Zebulon left the fae realm, he took on his grandfather’s name, in honor of him and to completely change his identity.  The fae went straight into college getting a MBA and finding his future wife that fit the perfect mold of what he needed for success, she came from wealth and opened doors for him.  Only problem, this was a marriage of convenience for him.  Mark had always been attracted to men, although he never told anyone, because the times he grew up in, it was not something that was accepted in the society he wanted to be part of. Over the years, his wife and him became socialites of Greywood often hosting charity events at their home.  They are the proud parents of six children who often test their parents’ patience and on a couple of times had to have their parents’ bail them out and pay people off to cover the story of their misbehavior.  Currently, Mark works for the town council in charge of the town’s funds and how to allocate the money to the different department agencies.  He also works as an advisor to the Whimsical Aosan ensuring his family’s legacy as well as co-owning The Vault with his closest friend Rowan. Just one problem with this picture perfect family, there are a lot of things hidden.  Through the duration of his marriage, Mark has had multiple affairs with different men over the years and is currently having another one that he is keeping hidden.

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

When Mark settled in Greywood, he noticed the growth in his powers.  Suddenly, he was able to understand people’s emotions and often used this gift to move up in the world by manipulating the person.

penned by... amber

[vvictordgilbert]

Beard Maintenance Tips: Best Methods to Maintain Your Beard

Beard maintenance will have to be a part of your routine. Caring for your beard will probably include trips to your barber and some shopping for items like brushes, beard shampoos, beard oils and moisturizing products.

It's probably a lot of information. And you might ask yourself, "is it worth the effort to have a routine for maintaining your beard?'. Yes. All you have to do is work hard and you'll be amazed at the outcomes.

Although some men are not able to grow full, thick beards, there are still plenty of people who can have stunning facial hair if they knew how to keep it. Learn more here to learn best beard care tips that will help you keep your facial hair in top shape.

Keeps Your Face And Beard Well

Beards can be uncomfortable regardless of what you think. In fact, many men complain that their faces are itchy when they get beards, especially in the first stages of growing. This is why beard maintenance routines can be very helpful.

Itchy hair can result from hair that is growing outside of your face. However, the irritation is usually caused by the exfoliated cells of your skin located next to your skin.

Cleansing your beard regularly and keeping it maintained with the right products can dramatically reduce the amount of itchiness. And cleaning your face helps get rid of dead skin cells and other dirt from the hair follicle, which can make your beard look healthy and promote growth.

Makes Styling Easier

There's not a lot more stressful than trying to get knots out of in your beard. You could pull your hair out literally when you fail to tackle tiny knots.

Unfortunately, oiling a beard in an attempt to loosen it can be unsuccessful, and it's better to be accountable for taking care of your beard instead of trying to fix it.

Maintain your beard hydrated and combed. It will take only just a few minutes to make your beard look more stylish if you do this.

This makes you appear more attractive

A well-maintained beard makes you look attractive. A well-planned beard maintenance program is crucial to ensure that your beard stays healthy and clean. For a more attractive appearance and appearance, trim your beard.

Maintaining a well-groomed and healthy beard is a striking aspect of your style. It's an attractive feature. You just have to spend the time and make sure you are grooming your hair properly.

Regularly wash your beard

A neat beard is an enjoyable one. You have to wash your beard regularly to keep it healthy. The beard's hair can be cleaned of dead skin and dust particles.

Remember that the hair on your face and the one on your head differ, and so is the skin that surrounds it. Make sure you use products specifically made for beard maintenance. Beards should be washed with a shampoo once to twice per every week. If you clean your beard more often, it can dry out the hairs that can cause beard curling and itchiness. The way it should be done:

Scoop warm water in your hands and make your beard looking nice and moist.

Use enough beard shampoo to wash your hands. Massage it into your skin.

After a good lather, rinse your beard in warm water.

Use a towel to dry your beard. Be gentle to avoid causing any damage to your hair.

To increase the amount of moisture in your beard, maintenance can be complemented by conditioners or masks for your beard. You might find you require one particularly in winter.

Beard oil is an excellent alternative

Beard oils are an essential product in your routine of maintaining your beard. It's a product that's which is used to complement the natural oils that are present in your skin. It moisturizes the skin beneath your beard, and your facial hair.

Trim Your Beard

Trimming your beard is essential in order to keep your beard looking good without going to the barbershop regularly on a weekly basis. It should definitely be a part of your beard maintenance routine. Although the first cut will always be the most difficult, you are able to reshape your hair by following a pattern and watching tutorials online.

[audreydoeskaren]

Have you read Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim? Idk what Era precisely it's meant to be, but I'm curious if anyone in the Chinese fashion sphere has anything to say about the clothes making/designing portions of the book, re: what clothes making was really like, the job of a royal tailor/tailors in general (were they common, or did most people make their own clothes? Was it a respected job?), that kind of thing! Thank you for your work on this blog!

I don't usually read fantasy novels like Spin the Dawn but I can say a thing or two about clothing production in imperial China. The state of dressmaking was different for each era and I can only talk a little bit about the Ming and Qing. Obviously I don't know the complete details of every stage of production for clothing, I'll just share some things that I do have knowledge on. Most of my information came from Rachel Silberstein's book A Fashionable Century: Textile Artistry and Commerce in the Late Qing, which could be read on JSTOR.

Royal dressmaking

Clothing that was meant for royal use was seldom created by one person alone, but rather the combined efforts of specialists and professionals in different areas. The designs would be made by artists in court, then textiles used for the clothing would be commissioned from state owned textile workshops, then sent to tailors to be sewn into garments and then to embroiderers if embroidery was required. Embroidery wasn't always necessary, since for most of the Ming fashionable and prestigious clothing was made from fabrics with woven patterns (e.g. brocades, damasks) instead of embroidered ones; embroidery would not become the dominant form of decoration until the Ming-Qing transition in the mid 17th century. Normal people wouldn't be able to purchase fabrics from the imperial workshops, but imperial workshops have been on the decline since the late Ming and commercial workshops were producing quality fabrics on a par with those from the imperial ones. Imperial workshop also frequently sublet their work to commercial ones.

As to the design aspect, formal court dress was heavily regulated as to what patterns and garments could be used for what occasion, so there wasn’t much room for artistic liberty. It was on informal clothing that more creativity could be exercised; embroiderers could choose what patterns and motifs go on garments and tailors could experiment with different proportions.

Source

Women’s 吉服 jifu formal ensemble from the Qianlong era. The patterns and their placement for such formal garments were fixed.

Source

Guangxu era informal 氅衣 changyi. The final appearance of this garment was still the combined efforts of many people, e.g. the weavers decided on the purple color, the tailor decided on the proportion and the embroiderers the floral motifs etc..

Home dressmaking

Common people prior to the 17th century mostly made their own clothes, particularly by the female members of the household. It was very common to make clothing from scratch i.e. the growing of cotton or grooming of silkworms, to fabric weaving, sewing and embroidering. It was considered a part of women's education to learn how to weave fabrics and sew garments together, but this doesn't mean that the entire dressmaking process was confined to women or one person either; men, who were expected to do farm work, would grow the crops necessary for the weaving of fabrics, and often assisted in the weaving process. Since the majority of the Chinese population lived in the countryside, many families produced fabrics from raw materials they made on their own farms and made clothes from said fabrics. Because of the difficulty in weaving brocaded fabrics by oneself, home dressmakers who couldn't afford to buy ready woven fabrics prior to the late Ming had to limit themselves to plain fabrics. In the late Ming and early Qing, the rise of embroidery as the dominant method of decoration meant that fashionable patterns became available to less wealthy people who couldn't afford to buy expensive brocaded fabrics, since they could reproduce all the fashionable patterns with just needle, thread and spare time. Embroidery books showing popular patterns and motifs were widely available and could be purchased cheaply. With that said, that doesn't mean that the entirety of a garment had to be made from scratch; many decorations and notions could be bought from shops, like trimmings, ribbons, buttons and prefabricated embroidery appliques. The seamstress would just need to buy the fabric, decorations and notions and put them together as one garment. In the Qing, women seldom went out of the house, and they relied on vendors or middlemen for vendors who brought products to their homes for sale. For women at the time, being a skilled weaver, seamstress or embroiderer was a highly desirable trait, not just because it symbolized "female virtue" whatever that means, but also because it provided work opportunities. Women who were otherwise not employed could take commissions from commercial weaving, tailoring or embroidery workshops as a side income.

Commercial dressmaking

Since the 17th century, the textile industry was increasingly commercialized and it since became more viable to purchase ready woven fabrics from commercial workshops, especially for people in urban areas.  These were usually owned by rural families as a side income, and they would often hire landless people to work in their manufactories. I don't know if owning a textile manufactory was a respected job (probably not, considering the literati's hatred for everything commercial) but these people did make serious money. Family operating businesses were often co-owned by wife and husband. Embroidery workshops making prefabricated embroidered appliques and tailor shops making ready to wear garments were also quite common, often relying on middlemen for delivering orders and negotiating prices between the workshop and individual embroiderers/seamstresses in the countryside. In Qing tailor shops, it was often the case that only menswear could be purchased ready to wear, whereas womenswear was made to measure or by the wearer herself. Within tailor shops, there were many subdivisions of labor, like some people did pattern drafting, some people cut pattern pieces and some people assembled the garments. The status of commercial tailors has historically been low, mostly because of the Confucian ruling class’ disdain for consumption, luxury and anything non-self sustaining.

Source

Ca. 1780s export painting showing weaving women.

Feminist tangent

In the Qing, most home weaving and embroidering were done by women, but the commercial workshops were male dominated and their guilds prohibited entry for women, because commercial dressmaking had become a lucrative business and men didn’t want to share employment with women. Male employees in workshops were considered artisans and better paid, whereas women who had to work at home were considered unskilled labor and paid less. Most commercial tailors in the Qing were also male, for reasons similar to why embroidery was male dominated. Whereas women commonly sewed clothes for themselves and their families, they were often prohibited from becoming professional tailors working in workshops or joining a guild. It’s that bogus thing where handicrafts are “women’s work” but when men see how profitable they are they suddenly become “artistic” and limited to men. 

Commercial tailors, who were male, were seen as a cultural abomination for doing what was historically seen as “women’s work” for profit. In order to elevate themselves to a higher, more respected status, they chose to throw women under the bus and revise the history of all things historically considered “women’s work” to make them more male centered. An example of this was the 露香园 Luxiang Yuan or Dew Fragrance Garden, a renowned Suzhou embroidery workshop built up by three generations of women of the Gu family, who owned the estate and was the namesake of their style of embroidery, 顾绣 guxiu or Gu embroidery. The male family head at the time, Gu Mingshi, later became the patron saint of the Suzhou embroiderer’s guild founded in 1867. The reason why Gu Mingshi was worshipped instead of the three women who made Gu embroidery famous was largely because male members of the Suzhou embroiderer’s guild needed historical justification for their exclusion of women and erasure of women’s contributions. Apparently late 19th century scholars also complained about this misogyny so this isn’t a new understanding.

Source

Gu embroidery by Han Ximeng, one of the three OG Gu women.

With all of this said, it doesn’t mean that women stopped working in commercial embroidery; women were actually the backbone of the industry, they just didn’t get any recognition from official, male written guild records and such. Many people in the 19th century observed that while the resident embroiderers in commercial workshops were men, a lot of their work was sublet to independent female embroiderers in the countryside, who were not credited on the finished product or advertising. 

Now I’m kinda inspired to make a whole rant about working women in the Qing and their representation (or lack thereof) in the Republican era, but there are some 20 unanswered asks sitting in my ask box so maybe later😅

[funtimebunnyblog]

Pillar men with black s/o with natural hair?

I'm so sorry this took a little while to get done, my dear Anon 😅 but here it is!

I'll admit, I had to take some time to do a little bit of research to help me write this. My IRL hair is a strange combination of Kars' and Funny Valentine's (really it depends on the day 😓) so I'm not the most knowledgeable on this subject and I wanted to make sure this felt right for all you folks out there with natural hair! 😇🥰❤ Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen with a black s/o with natural hair

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• As a man who takes extra precautions and care for the mane of his own, he's probably one of the best people to help you with your own hair.

• Whatever you need; creams, moisturizers, relaxers, oils, conditioners, you name it and he'll buy you top of the line products!

• He wants nothing but the best for you, his mate, and your hair.

• Helping you with styling is perhaps his favourite thing to do with you during his freetime.

• He could talk for hours about different styles with you and maybe even help you with trying them out.

• He may not be the most gentle person when helping you groom or style but he really tries to be. If you happen to squirm and whimper because he's pulling too hard PLEASE tell him!

• Otherwise he'll be upset with you and might even have to undo all of his work even if he just spent the last few hours giving you braids.

• He knows that pain equals damage and that's the LAST thing he wants to happen to you or your beautiful hair.

• If you happen to be having a day where your hair is being stubborn or maybe if you need to get around to having it re-styled and it looks awry, he's more than happy to teach you how to wrap it up like he does.

Esidisi:

• Esidisi has a very special care routine for his own floof of hair so needless to say, he's a good person to go to for help if you need it.

• What he really likes is exchanging tips with you about care and useful products, you both just seem to learn more and more from one another as you go along!

• He'll teach you millennium old remedies and tricks for care and washing and you can teach him any new and improved techniques and introduce him to some good products.

• He's definitely your go to man if you are in need of a hot oil treatment for your locks; he can heat it up with his hands in seconds!

• When you try out different styles with your hair, you might just inspire him to shake things up a little and get his own hair done differently.

• He has been rocking the floof for literal millennium after all, maybe it a little change was overdue...

• He'll even take your advice and let you pick a certain style for him and if you want, he's even down to match with you!

Wamuu:

• Wamuu's knowledge on the amount of care and time that needs to be put into your hair is admittedly very minimal.

• All he does is wash and comb his. For the longest time he thought that was all there was to it for everyone until you told him otherwise.

• Undoubtedly, he's absolutely in awe of how lovely and thick your hair is however.

• He's more than willing to learn the ins and outs of it all for your sake.

• Don't be surprised if you happen to find him sitting up at the computer late at night Googling tips and watching tutorials online.

• When caught, Wamuu will sheepishly admit that he wanted to surprise you by taking the time to learn to care for and style hair properly so he can help you more.

• When actually helping you hands on he's surprisingly gentle for his size and strength.

• He handles you like you're made of glass and you'll find he rarely ever pulls or inflicts pain.

Santana:

• Santana just can't seem to keep his hands off your hair.

• You'll have to forgive him because he could spend seeming hours just running his fingers through it (especially after you've just washed it), in utter adoration and awe.

• This could result in you being late for work a lot if you're not careful.

• He will absolutely stop though if you tell him to! If you don't like your hair being handled he'll show some restraint and settle for simply admiring it from afar until you tell him otherwise.

• All that being said, he's an excellent person to assist you in maintenance for your hair.

• He'll question you about all the products you put in your hair, what it does and why you need it. He wants to know everything!

• All his learning is hands on with you. Don't be surprised if very soon after you teach him all this stuff he starts insisting you sit in his lap and have him groom and moisturize it for you.

• That also gives him an excuse to touch and play with your locks.

• Santana does his very best to be gentle, he's actually very good at it, but he'll notice at even the slightest movement made if he's pulled too hard; to which then he'll stop and quietly apologize.

• He's not a man to care much for his own hair (Santana doesn't even own a comb) but he treats yours like royalty.

• He loves it when you try out new styles. Whether it's braids, a weave, cornrows or even if you want to just keep it natural, he loves it all the same!

[xbunnybunz]

Chocolate Confession [Link x Reader]

Summary: You decide to repay the Legendary Hero of Hyrule with a box of chocolates, and he repays you with something else entirely.

Genre: Fluff

Date: June 19, 2014

-----

If you had learned one thing about Link after all these years of traveling with him, it was that he had an gargantuan sweet tooth.

You had paid close attention to the young man as you both strolled through Castle Town. (And it definitely was not because you liked him!) You would watch as his gaze restlessly touched over everything in sight, examining all of the wares for sale with tireless curiosity. Even though he so-eagerly drank in his surroundings, he never stopped to admire anything up close. It was almost as if nothing meant enough for the busy hero to stop him in his tracks... Well, except for one thing.

Whenever you passed by a candy shop or a vendor selling sweets, Link's cerulean eyes would sparkle like aquamarine jewels, glistening with both awe and lust for the treat. Like a child, his facial expressions would shift to convey his desires. For a split second that others would never notice, Link's breath would catch in his throat, his feet failing to move for a minuscule of time.

Although any other normal person wouldn't have been able to pick up these subtle clues, you noticed the blond's small hints and knew what Link's body language meant.

He was infatuated with sugary snacks.

However, there was a small problem with his sweet tooth; the problem being that he was a traveling hero- which meant he didn't have the time to settle down and get a job. That wasn't the only issue here. The blond hero also had to take care of you, his loyal sidekick, as well as his horse, Epona. With these two factors in mind, it was quite obvious that there were never extra rupees to spare.

In the past few months, however, you managed to snag a job at the renowned Lon Lon Ranch. You had gotten the idea to work at the ranch after you heard the townspeople of Castle Town speak about it. Epona had long run out of carrots and Link had decided that it was time to restock on his beloved horse's treats. Both of you had gone shopping in the marketplace, seeking out carrots for Epona when you overheard two men discussing how much they yearned for a bottle of fresh, ice-cold Lon Lon milk.

While Link was busy paying for the carrots, you rushed over to the men and asked them what "Lon Lon Milk" was.

They had initially laughed at you for not knowing what the famous Lon Lon milk was, but once they realized you were serious, they pulled you aside and explained to you in thorough detail about what the delicious drink was, disbelief in their eyes.

”I can’t believe you’ve never heard of Lon Lon Milk before!” One said, blinking back tears. “What a poor child!”

The other man slapped the back of his friend’s head, but looked close to crying himself. ”Aw, be quiet you idiot! You’re attracting attention!”

Apparently, the milk was a product of Lon Lon Ranch- which was famous for it's scrumptious milk and creamy butter.

Intrigued, you asked about the job opportunities there. The men simply pat you on the back and told you that if you asked Malon, the ranch-owner's friendly daughter, you would be guaranteed a job there.

The following night, while Link and Epona slept, you sneaked away to Lon Lon Ranch, using the directions the men in Castle Town had given you. Luckily for you, you had arrived right before Lon Lon Ranch closed for the night. A girl about the same age as you was huffing and puffing, working on pushing the gates closed, but once she saw you, she gave you a warm smile and asked you how she could be of assistance.

The girl, you assumed, was Malon. You were determined to get the money to repay your friend.

'Link deserves something special for everything he's done for me.' You argued in your mind, still hesitant to take the job. It would require you to sneak away from Link each night and work at the ranch, sacrificing your resting time- which was something you valued more than gold. You shook off those thoughts with a scowl. 'He's always taken care of me and helped me in all ways possible- sometimes even saving me from monsters! He deserves this, at least.'

In the most polite manner possible, you asked her if you could work here for a while. “I need certain amount of money to buy a gift for a friend.” You explained, twiddling your fingers. “I want to buy the perfect present for one of my dearest friends- one that was always there for me. That’s why I need this job, so please, could I work here?”

With that reason, Malon immediately gave you the job.

"I think that you're a wonderful friend." She praised, taking you inside the ranch. "I'm sure your friend will love the present she gets!"

"’She?’ Oh, my friend isn't a girl." You clarified, chuckling quietly.

There was a moment of brief silence after that.

Malon had slowed her footsteps and turned her head slightly, sending you a knowing, yet mischievous look over her shoulder.

"Oh? Is that so?"

You stared at her, dumbfounded, before you finally realized what she was implying. A thin layer of pink dusted your cheeks as you quickly tried to rebut her assumptions.

"W-what?" You stuttered, "Like I said, we're only friends..."

It was Malon’s turn to chuckle as she wached you falter over your words and turn a fiery scarlet color. The auburn-haired girl turned away from you, humming when the cow stables came into view.

"Ah, this is where you'll be working!" She smiled, gesturing to the sleeping cows. "Don't worry, it's not a hard job. All you have to do is milk them enough to get three buckets of milk a night- and you're done!"

You thanked her and accepted the bucket happily, glad that your job didn't require you to lift heavy boxes or shovel horse poo.

And thus, for a month and a half, you managed to creep away from the sleeping hero and his chestnut-colored horse, spending two to three hours in the ranch before returning to sleep for a couple of hours. Finally, after all your hard labor, you had saved enough money to buy Link what he yearned for this whole time- chocolates.

This morning, you were ecstatic to hear that the Hero of Time wanted to head to the marketplace to pick up his repaired shield. You had just enough money to buy the chocolates that he craved.

As he groomed Epona with gentle hands, he addressed you. "I'll be visiting Castle Town sometime in the afternoon," he said, turning to face you. "The repairmen should be done fixing my shield; I'll pick it up today. You can come with me, if you want?"

Soft blue eyes turned to take in the sight of your kneeling form, rolling up your sleeping mat with utmost care.

Your reaction was nothing short of excitement. Your head snapped up, startling the blue-eyed boy in front of you. "Yes!" You shrieked immediately, your eyes wide with delight.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you before you realized what you did, and you blushed, embarrassed.

Link sent you a questioning glance, and you felt your cheeks turn pink. "Er, I mean-" You quickly added, trying to redeem yourself, "-I mean, I'd love to go! I've been wanting to buy something there for a while now."

Link smiled at you, lips turning up into a playful grin. "That sounds great! It's always a lot more interesting when you come to Castle Town with me."

You hastily turned around and pretended to fold up your sleeping mat, hiding your reddened cheeks. "S-sure..." You stammered, feeling a bit foolish for the effects that the blond-haired, sapphire-eyed boy had on you.

It was true that you had developed a tiny amount of feelings for Link, but you tried your best to suppress them. Of course, he would never like you. You knew that in the competition for the hero's heart, you were already beat. Princess Zelda- possibly the most beautiful and talented girl you've ever encountered, had you down in the long run. What madman would pick girl like you over a princess?

You sighed quietly under your breath, folding your sleeping mat in half and strapping it onto Epona. The horse huffed out of it's nose lightly, as if it knew what you were thinking. (She was probably just protesting against carrying the extra weight, but it was a comforting thought anyway.) You pet her white muzzle, running your fingers gingerly over her mane. "Friends." You muttered under your breath, watching as the graceful horse pressed it's nose into your hands. You take a deep breath, eyes darting over to the teenage boy that stood a little ways from you. "Just friends..."

Soon after you and Link had finished strapping your sleeping gear onto Epona, you both took off to the marketplace. As both you and Link walked, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. You chuckled, remembering how awkward you were around the hero the first time you traveled with him. Blue eyes met yours, and you offered a lopsided smile. "What were you laughing about?" Link asked, sending you a curious look. You looked up at the sky, tilting your head slightly to catch a breeze. "Nothing, just some old memories." He didn't get a chance to ask what they were about, because you had already arrived at the drawbridge to Castle Town.

Soldiers greeted the both of you as you walked in, you nodded at them before closing your eyes, soaking in the sounds of civilization and life. Traveling with Link often meant being secluded from other folk, and although you loved his company, it got lonely quite quickly.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Link began to speak to you. "We'll meet up in Central Plaza after we've both found what we want, alright? If you need anything, I'll be in the Gear Shop right next to the Hyrule bakery." You nodded, your eyes already glued to the fancy store across from the Gear Shop. Even from where you were standing, you could already see the sweets inside of the store, beckoning you to go in.

As soon as Link departed, you hightailed to the shop, admiring the treats through the window first. The shop put it's best chocolate on display. A variety of chocolates laid in front of your shining eyes, tempting you to hurry up and buy them. The display of dark chocolate swirls, caramel drops and pure white chocolate made your mouth water- you were standing there for so long that people were beginning to give you funny looks, so you decided to walk inside the shop.

No words could describe the smells that had wafted over your olfactory senses as you stepped into the store. For a second, you felt as if you had gone to heaven and back; because it seemed humanely impossible for smells so wondrous to be on Earth.

"Hello?" You heard a voice call, and suddenly, you noticed that there was a hand waving in front of your eyes. "Darling, are you quite alright?" You looked to see the owner of the arm, a woman that was dressed affluently and twice your age stood in front of you, looking worried.

"O-oh no! I'm fine!" You reassured the lady, peering at the boxes of chocolates that lined the shelves. "I'm just amazed at all the chocolate here, that's all."

The woman laughed heartily, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Oh dearie, chocolate seems to be a gift from the gods above, doesn't it? Everything about it seems perfect!" She gestured to the merchandise around her, adding in a hushed voice, "Sometimes I think I love this place more than my husband- don't tell him that, though! Ohoho!"

You diverted your eyes and peered behind the counter, seeing a burly man twirling his mustache, analyzing the boxes of chocolate across from him- that, you concluded, was probably this woman's husband.

"Anyway, dear, was there anything you needed?" The woman asked. You scratched the back of your neck, offering a nervous smile. "Yes, I came to buy this specific box of chocolates. I've had my eyes on it for quite a while now, and I'd really appreciate it if I could buy those."

You still remembered the box that Link had eyed a couple of times while you passed by this shop, it used to be in the window display, but now, alarmingly, it was gone. The top of the box was transparent and allowed you to see the contents lining the inside. You remembered the features of all the alluring chocolates, there were even carvings on the chocolate! Each tiny swirl and flower engraved in the thick, creamy treat looked as if a professional carver had worked their magic on it.

"Oh, that would be no problem! Pray tell, how did the box look like?" The woman asked, clapping her hands once in enthusiasm.

"The cover of the box was transparent, and the chocolates inside looked like they were created by a woodcarver." You recalled, placing a finger on your chin. "There were also multiple colors- it was very pretty."

The woman seemed to be in deep thought for a second, thinking about the description you had given her. You heard her mutter a couple words under her breath before she suddenly sprung into a frenzy. "Oh no!" She cried, hands flying to her face dramatically, "I do, indeed, think we sold that box of chocolates last week!" Your eyebrows furrowed, and you felt a twinge in your heart. Link really seemed to like those chocolates... And you had worked so hard to get them, too.

Suddenly, a gruff voice is heard from the counter. "Millie, I think we have one of 'em boxes left in the back."

Both you and the woman look up at the man behind the counter, still twirling his mustache. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the storage room, and your face filled with surprise; the woman's full of glee.

"Oh, sweetie! I knew that I was right to marry you! You're even sweeter than one-hundred chocolates combined! I knew I could rely on you to be organized with the merchandise!" As the woman bounced her way to the storage room, she leaned over and pecked the mustached man on the cheek, and look of satisfaction washed over his features, chuckling. "Right back at ya Millie."

In moments, the box of chocolate you had seen Link admire so many times was placed in front of you on the counter. The man told you the price, and as you were basically emptying out all your life savings onto the table, he gave you a sly look and questioned "Would the person you're giving this to like this wrapped?"

You were about to answer when Millie interrupted you, a shocked expression on her face. "These expensive chocolates are for someone else?" She began fanning herself, as if it were the most incredulous thing she's ever heard. "Tell me it is not so! Look at you, all your rupees have gone into this box of chocolates- and it is not even for you? Give me the joy to hear that it is your most precious receiving this gift!"

Your face reddens, and you can only look down at the shining marble floors, unable to find words to speak. For your "most precious?" Well... You wouldn't go that far, right?

The man behind the counter sighed, "Ay, Millie, it must be. Look at her face!" He turned to you, and small smile on his lips. "Tell you what, I'll wrap this for you for free- just to make up for all the drama we put you through."

You nodded meekly, your face still burning red.

It didn't take long for the man to finish wrapping the box. When you saw the material they had used to enclose the box, you almost cried.

"This is silk!" You said in awe, feeling the expensive fabric under your fingertips. You traced the golden-hued ribbon with wonder. "...I cannot thank you enough!"

The couple only smiled at you and thanked you for your purchase, urging you to run along and give your present to your lucky "friend."

You carefully placed the beautifully wrapped present in your bag and decided that you'd give the chocolates to Link sometime later, since he would probably be busy checking out his shield after you met up with him.

You spotted the golden-haired boy immediately after leaving the chocolate shop. Calling his name and waving to get his attention, you both reunited and made your way back to Epona, who was waiting for you both in the middle of Hyrule Field.

You stopped walking as soon as Epona came into sight, coughing lightly to get Link's attention. His cerulean eyes turned to you, a pinch of concern shining through. "Is there something wrong, ______?"

You diverted your eyes and slowly pulled out the present, holding it out to him.

"T-this is a thank-you-present for looking after me all the time..."

You watched his reactions out of the corner of your eyes, seeing his face go through an array of emotions. First, he seemed stunned, then puzzled, then finally, grateful.

You turned your head toward Link, lips trembling slightly from the oddness of the situation. His eyes locked with yours, something you've never seen before brewing in his blue orbs. "_-_______... You shouldn't have..." Link muttered, pressing the package closer to his chest. "Where did you get the rupees to afford this?"

You bit back a shiver upon seeing his expression, a blush threatening to spill crimson all over your face. "Well, it doesn't matter as long as you like it!" You choked out, quite rattled at the situation. The words came out a bit sharper than you had intended, but Link didn't seem to take them to heart.

The Hero of Time gave you a gracious smile before carefully pulling at the golden ribbon, admiring the silk fabric.

“Wow…” He whispered in awe, eyes darting up to your ever-reddening face. “This is amazing.” You gulped, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Once he had finally unwrapped the gift, a soft look of surprise touched upon his handsome features, his eyebrows arching up in disbelief and the corners of his mouth pulling northward. You watched as he blinked several times, just to make sure he was not being deceived. His eyes took in every elaborate detail on the chocolates through the clear texture on the front of the box in amazement.

Once you decided that he liked the chocolates, you looked away, your face feeling like it was lit aflame.

"_______... How did you...?" Link spoke your name like it was a sacred prayer. You could feel his eyes back on you, however, you refused to meet his gaze.

"I saw you admiring them in Castle Town," you tried to explain, the temperature on your cheeks increasing steadily. "...And I thought that maybe you'd like them."

You decided to sneak a glance at Link; and you regretted doing so immediately. His eyes were so full of admiration and love that you felt as if you would faint if you looked into them for a second longer. In a flash, he held you in a tight embrace, pressing his body flush against yours.

"I love it, _____. Thank you so much."

You could barely react to his sudden act of affection, and although you wanted this embarrassment to end, you never wanted Link to let you out of his loving grasp. Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, returning the hug gently.

It seemed like only seconds had passed before he pulled away suddenly, leaving you feeling vacant and also a little neglected. As soon as you saw him open the box of chocolates, however, you watched him with renewed interest.

Link observed every piece of chocolate in the box, appreciating the time and effort put into each individual candy. After what felt like an eternity, he picked up a chocolate in the shape of a rose, small flecks of bright red dotting the edges. You watched keenly as his slender fingers turned the chocolate over, taking in all the details on the petals; before raising it up to his barely parted, slightly chapped lips, enveloping half of the sweet in his mouth...

Your head snapped to the side violently, a dark blush igniting in your cheeks. That was so... Hot... You suppressed a shudder, reminding yourself to contain your thoughts.

While you were battling with your inner turmoil, you had not noticed Link's sneaky expression as he glanced at you. Unknown to you, Link had seen your reaction to him eating the chocolate, and soon, an idea formed in his mind.

Of course, he had an itching feeling that you had liked him before, but he had never acted out on it because he was unsure. Now, however, it was quite obvious that you had more than just a little "thing" for him- and you'd be thrilled to find out that the feeling was mutual.

With that in mind, he purred your name, not unlike a way a cat would, and you clenched your jaw, trying not to look at him. "W-what?" You asked, peering out of the corner of your eye when you didn't receive an answer.

Your eyes widened slightly when you realized that Link was sauntering closer to you, and you attempted to gain space immediately. "Uhm, Link, what are you-Woah-!" You fell backward, landing on your backside rather painfully.

‘Way to go.’ You thought, swallowing thickly as you looked up at Link. Aquamarine eyes watched your every movement and didn't miss a beat. Without hesitation, Link kneeled between your splayed legs, placing his unoccupied hand on the floor beside you. The blond leaned in close, his eyes holding an emotion that almost looked like untamed hunger.

You were too stunned to speak, feeling his hot breath cascade over your lips.

"Why don’t you try some?" He asked, his voice low and airy. He held out the half-eaten chocolate to your flushed face, watching in satisfaction as red blossomed even further down your face. "It's delicious." He smiled, his eyelids lowering seductively. “…And if it’s not, we can try the others in the box, what do you say…?” You were frozen at his words, unable to speak yourself. Instead, you took notice of how long his golden eyelashes were. You felt a gossamer touch on your own lashes, and you swore that they were touching yours.

Link leaned into your body, holding the chocolate rose against your trembling lips, tempting you to open your mouth. Your mind was dizzy with embarrassment. You could feel the chocolate pressing against your mouth, as well as the small grooves and saliva that Link had left behind when he had eaten it. The scent of the chocolate wafted up to your nose, and you felt like you were being put under a heated spell.

You were entranced as you looked into his aqua-eyes, opening your mouth just enough for him to slip the chocolate in. Link gave you a small smile, pressing the sweet into your mouth with a satisfied look.

Your taste-buds set off fireworks in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your mouth, the taste of bitter dark chocolate mixed with foreign spices gave the treat a dark, but tangy flavor.

Your eyes never left Link's as you savored the chocolate, his half-lidded eyes nearly causing you to melt yourself. You were unable to suppress a shudder when he shot you a sultry look, darting his tongue out to lick his lips.

You watched, hypnotized as the hero raised his hand up to his lips, lapping at the chocolate that had melted on the tips of his fingers.

“Link…?” You whimpered, watching him with clouded eyes. You blinked as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you. Slowly, his hand slithered behind your head, tangling into your hair.

All the while, the blond moved closer to your face, gauging your facial expressions. You shook in anticipation, almost leaning toward him as well. When Link was finally a few centimeters away from your lips, he watched you lowered your eyelids slowly, following in suit, his eyes slipped shut as well.

Gently, he pressed his lips against yours, your mouths molding together perfectly.

After a while, he pulls back and placing his forehead on yours, looking content. "I love you, so much..." He hums, opening his eyes.

You let out a shaky sigh, still flustered, but at the same time, thankful. Your mind began to wander, wondering how a box of chocolate had resulted in this.

"I love you too, Link."

[findopulencerp]

                              𝖟𝖊𝖇𝖚𝖑𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝖘𝖐𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘                                              𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖑𝖊

appears as though he was born 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 years ago but is actually 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐲-𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞, he is a 𝐟𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 who lives in 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 as the 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬, and is an advisor of 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐳𝐞𝐤 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬. he looks an awful lot like 𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬.

“here’s a fun little fact. the word fortune comes from the latin word fortuna, goddess of chance. fortuna, so pretty, right? the thing is, real fortune has nothing to do with chance or luck. fortuna is bullshit. real fortune is calculated, it’s relentless, fucking criminal even. you have to make fortune happen.”

Born to a unique family would be putting it mildly. Zebulon is the product of two wandering faeries that found each other and joined a commune.  Born second in his family, he was raised with full blooded siblings and adopted siblings in this unique commune on the outskirts of Opulence.  Throughout his childhood, his parents and the other adults on the compound tried to instill in him the importance of nature, being one with nature, and the shallowness of the material world.  However, since he could remember he always felt different and never grasped these concepts.  Homeschooled until the age of fourteen, he lived a sheltered life and was then thrust into the public education schools.  Needless to say, Zebulon struggled at first being the freak child from the compound and people comparing the commune to a dangerous cult.

It was in his teen years that he learned his mother actually came from an affluent, strict,  traditional family in the fae realm.   Suddenly everything clicked for him, he was never meant for this flower child life.  No, he was destined for greatness.  After graduating high school as valedictorian, Zebulon found it important to go to the fae realm and get to know his grandparents better.  For over a decade, they started to groom him into the proper gentleman that would make the family name proud and pressured him to find a wife that would help achieve these dreams.

When Zebulon left the fae realm, he took on his grandfather’s name in honor of him and to completely change his identity.  The fae went straight into college getting a MBA and finding his future wife that fit the perfect mold of what he needed for success, she came from wealth and opened doors for him.  Only problem, this was a marriage of convenience for him.  River had always been attracted to men, although he never told anyone.  Not out of shame, but more he never thought it relevant or anyone’s business.

Over the years, his wife and him became socialites of Opulence often hosting charity events at their home.  They are the proud parents of four children who often test their parents’ patience and on a couple of times had to have their parents’ bail them out and pay people off to cover the story of their misbehavior.  Currently, River works for the town council in charge of the town’s funds and how to allocate the money to the different department agencies.  He also works as an advisor to the Duszek Decorous ensuring his family’s legacy.  

Just one problem with this picture perfect family, there are a lot of things hidden.  Through the duration of his marriage, River has had multiple affairs with different men over the years and is currently having another one that he is keeping hidden.

“what power did he attain when settling in opulence?”

When River settled in Opulence, he noticed the growth in his powers.  Suddenly, he was able to understand people’s emotions and often used this gift to move up in the world by manipulating the person.

this character is…retired

[thegreymoon]

Hi, I'm reading 2ha currently but I've stopped atm because I'm at the part where it's explicitly stated that wanning fell in love with mo ran when moran was 15years old? Is it true? That wanning has had a crush on mo ran when mo ran was just 15 while wanning was 30+? Isn't it grooming then?

LOL, no offence, anon, but I had a little chuckle at the idea of CWN grooming anyone 😂 He is just not capable!

OBLIGATORY WARNING: SPOILERS!!! 

The fact is, this book has a list of warnings as long as my arm that includes all kinds of obscenities, including mutilating and cannibalizing children, treason, torture, murder, genocide, sexual slavery and all flavours of non-con and rape. There are plenty of legitimate reasons to be uncomfortable and not touch it with a ten-foot pole, however, grooming is not one of them. 

When the mentions of this novel first crossed my dash, I checked out the summary and was immediately put off by it being a teacher/student relationship, which is a particularly squicky power imbalance for me and something I usually can’t click out of fast enough. However, when I actually sat down to read it, I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that 2ha actually subverted the power dynamics. 

First of all, grooming implies a predatory intent. It involves manipulating a minor into entering a sexual relationship. All key elements that would make it grooming are missing in this case. CWN has no predatory intent (or any intent, for that matter, unless it is to protect Mo Ran, teach him well and watch him prosper), he is incapable of manipulation and, honestly, sex does not really occur to him as more than a vague theoretical concept and something he knows other people practice, but which is certainly not a possibility for him. 

In addition, in the context of the society that they live in, the taboo of their relationship is not the age gap, but the fact that they are master and disciple, which, again, makes all the sense to me, because of the inherent power imbalance between a teacher and a student, and the sacred obligation they both have towards each other (but especially CWN towards Mo Ran). 

Another important thing: loving someone, and even finding them sexually attractive, is not inherently predatory. Acting on it is. There is a reason why the “But he wanted it!!” and “We’re in love!!” line of defence is laughable and gross in the context of large power imbalances, be it age gaps or teacher/student relationships. No matter how horny the teenager is, as an adult, it is your responsibility to make sure that no lines are crossed, and CWN absolutely maintains that boundary. Before the time skip, there is not a single instance of sexual contact between them that was not initiated (or forced upon CWN) by Mo Ran.

When it comes to CWN’s feelings towards Mo Ran, yes, they are soft, and yes, they are deep, and yes, even idealistically romantic, but everything about them is just so... innocent. All it ever amounts to is, ‘If I had a better temper, and if I was more beautiful, or if I was not so old, then maybe I could hope he could love me!’ But he never ever acts upon it. He does not think it is even an option for him. In fact, the book makes a point of underlining that he makes sure not to burden Mo Ran with his feelings. 

There is absolutely no grooming going on here, CWN keeps his love well hidden, to the point that for the longest time, Mo Ran thinks he does not even like him. In addition, CWN is ashamed of his feelings. He is well aware of the master/disciple taboo, he thinks his feelings are dirty and inappropriate and he does his absolute best to suppress them, to the point where these thoughts don’t even get the chance to fully form before he squashes them. 

Another important thing to mention here is that CWN was was raised by a monk and that his cultivation path was one of abstinence. Left to his own devices, sex with Mo Ran (or anyone else, for that matter) would never have happened. Another sad aspect of this whole thing is that CWN is utterly inexperienced, he has no idea how sex between men is even supposed to work, until Taxian-jun gets a hold of him. In his second life, the only reason he has any sexual thoughts at all is because of his explicit dreams involving adult!Mo Ran, which are not really dreams, but memories of a very thorough sexual education forced upon him by Taxian-jun. It is also important to note that CWN is very ashamed of what he thinks is a product of his own dirty mind and that he takes extra measures to make sure that he maintains an appropriate distance between himself and Mo Ran. 

I think it is no coincidence that CWN’s sexual attraction towards Mo Ran comes to the forefront after the time-skip. It is pretty clear that CWN is suddenly all hot and bothered and cannot control his boners only after Mo Ran has fully grown into an adult. It is obvious that he gets hard for the adult man in a way he never did for the boy. Another important aspect of the time-skip is that a lot of Mo Ran’s character growth and maturing (mental and emotional) takes place during this time, apart from Chu Wanning, which creates this huge dissonance in CWN’s brain and also eliminates the inevitable squickiness that would have resulted from him lusting after someone that he personally raised to adulthood.  

And all this is without even getting into what TXJ did to him when he captured him. CWN was so unwilling, it took a lot of time and extended torture before TXJ forced him to cooperate in bed. Even Mo Ran 1.0 was extremely predatory towards CWN, though he did eventually grow himself a moral compass after the time skip, and though the instincts to just hold CWN down and take him were still there, he had learned the importance of consent. When it comes to their sexual relationship, there is not a single moment where Mo Ran was not the one pulling all the strings. 

Anyway, TL;DR Chu Wanning never did a single thing wrong in his entire life. 

[kinnoth]

Dunno when/where I'll be able to use this so may as well write it down before I forget

It doesn't make sense that Thor and Loki have no responsibilities within the institution of Asgard. I've read a lot of fic and the vast majority of them have the two of them just indolent a lot of the time. Thor does "training". Loki just seems to spend all his time reading. Like yeah, that's great, but like they're fuckin royalty. They're sons of the king of nine realms. They're by definition politicians. That's a position that comes with a lot of power. To leave them idle is to waste the political content of two able men.

I'd believe it that they're both still learning to some degree, but I think Thor has been put to use commanding the armies of Asgard. Directly beneath him is tyr, captain of the einherjar who operate as a sort of "city guard" of Asgard, as well as captains of the other various military branches. Above him is Odin, although in recent years he has intervened less and less in Thor's decision making. Through his command of Asgard's armies, he is responsible for the peacekeeping of the empire and the allocation of its armies' resources. He does regular tours to Asgard's various outposts -- it was Odin's idea to get him acquainted with the way the various outposts are run, its Thor's idea bc he genuinely likes to get to know the soldiers on the ground.

(side note, Asgard's armies incorporate the auxiliary troops of its various vassal states. Outposts are run by aesir soldiers but staffed by locals. Thor endears himself to the boots on the ground by learning their various languages and dialects rather than using allspeech across the board. Side note of the side note: Thor is better at languages than Loki is, in terms of actually talking to people. Loki excels in the acquisition but not the practical application, with the exception of vanir. He is much more proficient in vanir)

He is flanked and surrounded by dozens of advisors. By the time of his coronation in thor1, he is not mature enough to run the empire by himself but he is comfortable enough with all his advisors that he could have done it with good support.

Also in his obligations are his duties as god of thunder (storms and rain) and fertility (harvest and crops). Although he does not attend to these responsibilities with the relish of his responsibility to battle, he attends to them nonetheless. As he is responsible for the production of the crops, he must also oversee its harvest and taxation.

Loki has fewer formal responsibilities, as second prince. Most of his roles are in support to or supplementary to Thor's, as Odin and Frigga are grooming them to take over for each of them even if they are not allowed to marry . He has no role in the leadership of the military, but the obligations he held were diplomatic in nature. When Thor would go visit the military outposts, he would sometimes tour the vassal courts. He would sit in on council meetings and basically act as one of the junior aesir diplomats. But everybody knows there's no power in aesir diplomacy. They're a pretty face in front of a big gun.

(if Odin had left any of his brothers alive, Loki would have had a direct mentor to shadow, but part of the reason Asgard rules by means of such military force is that Odin has no more relatives by which to engage in direct diplomacy. Most of Frigga's male relatives were killed in the war. Loki is getting there but Loki, while clever and reasonably competent, is still very young and inexperienced.)

He was liked enough by the various nobility, but his lack of social maturity (he isn't really sure how to be feel out when to be gracious and when to draw the line; he has a taste for humiliating people when they get on his nerves) and confidence made it so that foreign diplomats lacked confidence in his word (let me speak your manager syndrome) and also tried to get stuff over on him. He is also learning, and not there yet, but has a much less robust support system.

Odin occasionally joins them on their foreign obligations, but when he is there, it's like neither of them exist, and nobody treats him like he is anything but high king, so it is difficult to learn anything from him. His debriefs are high handed and condescending.

Loki's real interests lay in civil engineering, but there is no glory in building up Asgard's infrastructure, so it's treated as the second prince's pet project more than anything. Loki's greatest accomplishment before thor1 ends up being the shield/wall around Asgard's citadel.

(the story of this echoes the sleipnir story I think lol. Loki and his scholars design a shieldwall system and commission a dwarf to build it. None of the dwarves will take him up on it, bc lol they answer to Odin, not this punk, except one. The dwarf demands the sun and the moon for his asking price. Loki is like "lol ok 🙄" and thinks a) the dwarf is using some sort of figure of speech b) if he does want the sun and moon, Loki can probably trick the dwarf into thinking he's being paid the sun and moon c) if these aren't the case, Odin will be so pleased with the new defence system that he will pay some exorbitant sum and bail him out. None of these things turn out, Odin is unimpressed and waves him off. Loki, his head literally on the line, goes to Thor, crying and scared. Thor beats the dwarf and chases him out. The dwarf leaves in such a hurry he forgets his horse. Odin claims it for his own, and acknowledges the shield is useful, but only acknowledges Loki's contribution in passing. They are 17/18 at the time. Thor comes to recount this story fondly. To loki, this was a great humiliation.)