#i know TWO people at my workplace that genuinely respect others and try to their extent to help out too

[tony-andonuts]

Starting a new arc at work where instead of saying Im alright Ill say something based

[tdicksupreme]

i'm v happy to discuss my partial & conditional male privilege as a trans guy. my frustration is that people are never asking this question in good faith.

by good faith i mean genuine curiosity and expansion of our shared understandings as people: these discussions never seem to be about how my experience can help illuminate the oppression of being a woman or what that consists of, where the line is, what our lived experiences are like. i have never seen people ask/assert "trans men have male privilege" in ways that weren't v obviously trying to give people permission to not think about us. trans men have male privilege i'd argue can be partially true, depending on contexts, but it should be pretty blatantly bad-faith that such a complex topic is treated as a settled issue.

we have male privilege, it's settled, that's it, and you never have to think about effeminate trans men, flamboyant gay trans men, the complexities of how we move through the world, what it means (in my case, for example) to be a guy who's generally seen as a guy, but has not had top or bottom surgery, has long hair, & what that means for how i get treated in different contexts.

what are we talking about? the privilege to not be seen/treated as a woman on sight? reproductive freedoms? respect in the workplace? economic security? etc.?- so many trans guys, even guys who have passed for quite some time, never experience so many of these things, and instead of having genuine curiosity about our unique experiences you want to slot us all categorically into the cis-het-white-man box so you don't need to think of us as people who can ever have power leveraged against us

people seem to have two settings, either "trans men are women and don't know what it's like to be a guy" or "trans men are cis men and never experience their own unique challenges," even though i think it's pretty obvious that we have a mixed/complicated gender experience simply by virtue of being trans

and every tguy i've ever seen say "i have male privilege all of the time" never brings up all the things he had to do to get & retain patriarchal power. having- idk, been a guy, it's so fucking disingenous to pretend like being a man doesn't involve a performance of ten thousand different choices & behaviors to make sure other guys continue seeing you as a dude. it's not just "having facial hair" or w/e, and if that's what you think then you are literally by definition a transmisogynist lmao. it's the high-and-tight haircut, the gym shirt, the workouts you did to build those arms, the ways you learned to socialize with straight-acting men so they feel comfortable, the things you don't express & feminine mannerisms you stopped using because it would get you clocked. IMO, participating in sexism is a system men participate in so they don't become targets of it.

like, insisting trans guys universally attain male privilege isn't an innocent statement, it's one that in my experience gives dudes a skewed idea of their own safety. what do you think happens when i have a scruff, deep voice, and people realize my boobs are not cis guy moobs? why do so many people think that i'm seen unilaterally as a cis straight man, rather than a mostly-man sort-of-woman you're allowed to condescend to & also physically fight?

[sweetkpopmusings]

joshua best friend headcanons <3

a/n: this best friends series is giving me so much serotonin, and i love to see others enjoying it!! joshua is so cringe (said lovingly) and i am so very fond of him :,-) my break from work is over after today, so my posts will probably not be as frequent, but i promise this series will continue !! pics not mine <3

content: fluff | wc: 0.8k | warnings: none! | pairing: bestfriend!joshua x gn!reader | requests: open

he's the type of best friend that sees you two as a team

yes, he refers to you both as "the dream team" constantly

and he says it with his whole chest each time

like when one of his members asks what he did on the break, he'll answer "oh, y'know, just got the dream team back together"

they just respond (probably preceded by an eyeroll) "how's y/n doing?"

they're so unfazed by it but they'll tease him about it if you're around. if you join them at an event or a hangout, when you walk in the room they'll cheer because "the dream team is back together again!!!"

they're so dramatic but shua is eating it up actually

unironically will ask you, "is he bothering you, queen/king/my liege?"

he thinks it's so funny like it doesn't matter if you think it's funny he will stick with that bit forever

because he actually does care if people or things are bothering you

he will ask you how you are doing all the time

and he wants genuine answers

he'd never push you or anything like that, but he isn't asking you out of politeness or routine

as your best friend, he is dedicated to your wellbeing

he's so invested in supporting you

if you're trying to overcome a problem, develop a new skill, or complete some random 30-day challenge, joshua is right behind you the whole time

he'll send you encouraging messages, look out for tips he can send your way, and sometimes he'll even take part in it himself!!

truly a great cheerleader to have in your life :,-)

creates traditions for you two

he knows that life is wild and it can be hard to get together and talk as much as you want to

so he ensures that, regardless of what's going on, you two have things that bring you together

it could be based on a shared interest! maybe you both really like this one youtube channel, so you always watch the new content together

i would not be surprised in the slightest if he signed y'all up for silly subscription boxes

like yes there's a monthly service that sends you mini science experiments and yes joshua got you both a year-long plan and yes he expects "shua & y/n's science session" to be a whole event every time

it was somewhat of a joke at first because shua loves being ridiculous but you both ended up loving it so much that you looked forward to each new box

he's very protective of you <3

he's always looking out for you, so he is pretty invested in how people treat you

whether it's in the workplace, in your friend circles, in romantic relationships, and even in your family (bio, chosen, or otherwise)

he wouldn't meddle in your relationships, but he's not afraid to speak up if someone is not treating you with the respect and care you deserve

he always respects your decisions, but he will never hold back an opinion that is for your benefit.

he won't get mad if you disagree with him either like he's the king of promoting autonomy, agency, and self-respect <333

he works hard to earn your trust, which is why you trust his judgment

and he goes to you for the same thing

he nevers wants you to beat around the bush with him

your bond is too special for superficial pleasantries like that

you both know each other so well that it only makes sense to be transparent with one another

which is why he'll come to you with some of his biggest concerns, insecurities, etc

because you're the one person who can see him for who he is without him worrying about putting on a persona or performance

and he's so grateful to you for that, more than he could ever express

so after a heart-to-heart he'll just look you directly in the eyes and say a soft yet strong "thank you"

and then make a lil joke because whoa it got real serious and he's a lighthearted guy

takes a lot of pictures of you / you two together !

he will send you the pictures where you are making a funny face and threaten to use it as blackmail <3

if you try to do the same he'll just go "good luck, i'm beautiful in everything :-)"

and you're like yes but have you considered you're also an idiot <3

runs ideas by you for weird things he can do to shock his members

he knows the water bits always kill, but he's looking to take things to the Next. Level. so he's scheduling a meeting with you to walk through his bit prototypes and maybe even doing some trial runs with you

he's taking it so seriously and you're like wow you're a dumbass and he's like "thank you so much so what was your rating on the tearaway pants trick again?"

boy has a clipboard and everything i swear

joshua is just such a funny and strange guy who wants to add value to your life because you bring so much to his!! he'll always be there for you, rain or shine, and he reminds you constantly of how special you are :,-)

joshua if you're taking applications for besties please let me know and i'll submit my resume asap!!!

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

I’m gonna say this cause I’ve been seeing a lot of Minthe edits and finally understanding more and more of her perspective. Persephone is a homewrecker, absolute homewrecker and if this was anyone else the fans would’ve thrown a tantrum because why is it Persephone can get away with knowingly accepting affection, gifts, money, clothes, and even a phone from Hades but Minthe is shamed for also receiving things such as that.

It’s just so annoying and incredibly incompetent to me how they literally do the same things all the damn time yet everyone loves Persephone. Me personally, I hate her with all of my heart I truly believe that she’s very malicious and self serving at the end of the day. She reminds me of those villains targeting old lonely vulnerable rich men all for their money while trying to mask their behavior behind a sweet innocent character…. Oh wait. She’s literally doing just that, like always she’s doing shit like that. She literally took money out of Hades’ account for an apartment without even asking, yes you can argue that they discussed about Persephone moving out but that doesn’t just give someone the okay to take their money and run with it to buy stuff you want. She’s always being a huge extreme brat and it really makes me feel like Demeter is a victim of her damn behavior (I’ve always thought this but it just gives me more reason for it now) because how the hell are you going to get upset at your mother for coddling you when you accept and even welcome being babied by everyone around you. This whole independency thing falls through the floor when you realize that Persephone doesn’t want any independence, all she wants is to be able to get away with things she does and obviously Demeter was more strict with her (unlike Hades) so she couldn’t necessarily do anything without being watched.

I genuinely feel for Minthe, not her actions but her mental state had to be breaking apart with every single day and those two assholes just made it worse. Persephone was always aware that Minthe and Hades were together yet she still allowed herself to be seen publicly with him, she allowed him to get physical, and she didn’t mind kissing him right after they broke up. She was obviously waiting for them to break up to do more bold moves just to spite Minthe and she didn’t even care about how she would feel. I get that you’re jealous that Hades is giving his money away to someone who wasn’t you but that doesn’t mean that you could basically start seeing him and playing fucking house right in the office that she works in. That’s trifling as fuck and I’d be pissed too because not only are you embarrassing me in front of Persephone by showing her that I’m not worth any dignity or respect but you’re embarrassing me in my own workplace as well, you just know that the assistants and other staff members were spreading it around like wild fire and that had to be so stressful to deal with.

Speaking of that actually, fuck Persephone for that because she keeps whining and crying about how rumors made everyone at her college not want to speak with her yet she’s completely fine with doing things that actively ruin Minthe’s reputation and make her a spectacle for everyone to see. That’s one of the main reasons why I don’t feel any sympathy for her and I don’t see why so many people are so keen on protecting her, she’s really not shit and she’s genuinely a terrible person and we all know that if she were a real person no one would like her at all. At least Minthe had a reason for asking Hades for money, she literally only had him to rely on since he insisted on paying for everything and giving her a job, there was an obvious dependency on Hades that he started his damn self (which I have no idea why he thought trapping Minthe into this relationship she never even wanted in the first place would ensure not only a good relationship but a good marriage as well, like you made her lose her job which was the only thing keeping her from getting evicted and he knew it, his job was the only thing keeping her afloat and knowing Hades I just know he paid for the rent by himself cause that’s just how he is, he did the same with Persephone when they went shopping he insisted on buying things for her and spending money, it’s not insane to think that he did the same thing with Minthe’s apartment and her bills) what’s Persephone’s excuse of sticking around Hades and receiving money and gifts from him? She’s incredibly privileged and the heiress to a whole company if she wanted to actually be independent and get a job of her own she could’ve. She’s not like Minthe, she has lots of powerful connections whereas Minthe only had Hades, so she just enjoys being spoiled and she chooses to use only Hades’ money for the things she wants.

Last thing, but I find it incredibly telling that Hades was never truly there for Minthe emotionally. He only wanted to be there when he wanted something from her, never not once did he stand up for her or show her off half as much as he does with Persephone. He’s loud and open about his relationship with her while we barely even see praise coming from Hades and Minthe, it was almost as if he was embarrassed to be with her similar to what the comic wanted us to think with Minthe’s introduction. He listened to Hera bag on his girlfriend even before Persephone was in the picture for probably centuries and never did he ever say anything about it. He’s fucking friends with her! He’s friends and completely fine with everyone who has ever said something bad about Minthe and he doesn’t even care about all the things they said about her. And you expect me to be on their side? After everything you’ve shown us, I’m supposed to be happy that HxP are the only people getting happy endings and no one else that they screwed over to get there? Absolutely the fuck not.

That’s the end of this rant, I’m tired and incredibly irritated with the main couple they make me want to eat my own scalp. It’s so annoying how everyone lets them get away with anything yet Minthe and her fans are just evil for even having a shred of sympathy for her, like y’all stan a murderer and a slave owner. There’s no right choices.

[ultramarine-spirit]

I was reading the novel and this time something caught my attention that I don't know why I had overlooked it before, and that is how Athy talks about her life in the orphanage. Athy says that the children in the orphanage knew things that the children should not know, that she had to fight for what she wanted and that when she left that place she felt a kind of freedom.

To me, that screams abuse.

It bothers me that the fandom so overlooked the fact that Athy was abused not only in her first life (neglect) but also in her second life and I'm sure it must have been hell. I wish the manhwa had put more emphasis on this because many fans overlook Athy's trauma when she is literally the character who suffered the most.

Yes, to me it's canon that Athy was heavily abused in her second life. Adding to what you said, I remember her mentioning having to literally fight for food (a bowl of rice), or how they got a single sad birthday celebration per month. That's also where her initial fixiations with candy, money and her genuine love for studying come from, as Athy herself admits, she never had those kinds of luxuries (she mentions having to eat expired food in a "haha funny" way, but if you think about it for two seconds, it's just tragic. Like, she died from overdosing on sleeping pills to deal with the cold). I know a thing or two about how orphanages operate from my field of work and acquaintances, and kids in those institutions suffer from abuse in all sorts of ways while being completely ignored by society. I'm not from Korea, but going by what Plutus wrote and reading about the subject, the situation seems to be similar or even worse.

If I want to get overanalytical, part of her depression while living alone could be a consequence of the treatment she received at the orphanage. It's super common for kids in those situations to end up with depression, PTSD, having issues forming emotional connections, facing prejudice, etc. It's also canon that she was verbally and physically abused at her workplace. Athy treats her death as an accident, but in my opinion it's implied that it was a suicide, perhaps not in an "active way", but her behavior was edging the line. Which is again, common for people with that background. I think this plot point is interesting, as to my knowledge suicide is a taboo subject in East Asia. Most manhwas don't have their FL reincarnate after that.

I get what you mean, that part of Athy's trauma is often overlooked, but it probably has to do with most people not reading the novel and with Athy herself not really acknowledging it. She mentions her life as Lee Jihye at the beginning of the story, and then very rarely brings it up. But if anything, that's pretty consistent with how Athy deals with her trauma and negative emotions, refusing to acknowledge they exist until their weight is too heavy for her to endure. I like this piece of characterization a lot, but it leaves us with many questions that are hard to answer when Athy herself doesn't remember or actively tries to forget the trauma from her past lives. You could draw some parallels with Lucas and Claude's respective ways of dealing with trauma, loss and trying to forget (but Athy's mindset is more healthy and not so self-destructive lol).

Also yes, to me Athy is the character that has suffered the most by far. Not like this is a competition, but *gestures at LP* and the fact that she was a working class woman in Korea while the other characters (sans Lucas and Diana, I guess) are and always have been rich aristocrats in pseudo-France says enough /hj.

[ragingstillness]

SPOILERS for Endeavor Season 8

So Endeavor season 8 is finally airing in the US. I just watched the second episode and I can’t help thinking about something else. Don’t get me wrong, I like the show, it’s something I’ll watch of my own volition that I find genuinely interesting. But today’s episode reminded me of my favorite show of all time and I couldn’t help but compare them and find Endeavor falling way short. 

TW: mention of death, mention of murder, mention of abortion, mention of sexual assault, mention of domestic violence, mention of sex work, mention of crime, mention of PTSD, mention of homophobia, slight mention of racism, mention of suicide, mention of workplace accident

/start rant

To preface, my favorite show of all time is Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. It’s a tv show based on a series of books. It’s set in Australia, more specifically Melbourne, in 1929, and features a female detective and a wide cast of other characters. 

To begin let’s look at the women in Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries which from now on I’ll be referring to as MFMM. 

Main recurring characters: 

-Phryne Fisher

-Dottie Collins

-Jane Fisher

-Aunt Prudence

-Doctor Mac

Now let’s look at the women in Endeavor, all 8 seasons btw, in comparison to MFMM’s three.

Main recurring characters:

-Dorothea Frazil

-Win Thursday

-Shirley Trewlove 

-Joan Thursday

And honestly this is me being generous classing them as main recurring characters. Joan and Dorothea appear most often, with Win in the background as one of the main character’s wives, and Shirley Trewlove was only in the show for a season. 

In contrast Phryne, Dottie, Aunt Prudence, and Doctor Mac appear in all three seasons many times and Jane appears at least once if not more often in each. 

I’ll come back to this with characterization later now let’s move on to another thing I find Endeavor falling short in, especially in this season 8 episode. 

In this episode we encounter a man who it eventually turns out has had a gay relationship in his past that his current wife doesn’t know about. He’s trying to connect with his past lover, while both of them are married to women, but his past lover doesn’t want to be together again. This leads the man to kill himself and be one of the few red-herring deaths in the show. I’m sorry but bury your gays much? Is it because it’s airing during pride month? Is that it? Are you trying to bait and switch queer people PBS? (Sorry I’m just kind of mad)

And now let’s compare to an episode where something sort of similar happens in MFMM. A woman working in a factory dies a gruesome death after falling into one of the machines. Soon after, her boss dies and foul play is suspected. It turns out that the woman was indeed killed in an accident and that aside from working illegal overtime, there was no foul play involved in her death. Nevertheless, it is also revealed that she was in a relationship with Dr. Mac and that yet another woman at the factory had a crush on her. Once again, it’s a red-herring death, as she was not killed by anyone, simply an accident. The queer love is connected to the episode as the other woman with a crush killed the boss to frame Dr. Mac, but ultimately the death of the woman was not part of the whole scheme. 

The relationships are treated very respectfully and Phryne helps Dr. Mac mourn her lover’s death in a very touching scene. In contrast to the Endeavor episode, in which we do see a set of pictures of the two men kissing, we never see anything at all between the two women in Miss Fisher, yet the relationship is so much deeper and explored with much more respect. And while it is a red-herring death it’s still important to the overall case. 

Now I have mentioned that MFMM is set in 1929. Endeavor is set in 1950. 21 years later. And yet Endeavor is less respectful about their queer characters. And on that note I return to the discussion of female characters. 

Dorothea Frazil in Endeavor is a journalist. She is well known in the area and well-liked and often is a source of information for the main characters in exchange for favors or exclusives and often in exchange for nothing at all. She’s an independent woman with a great sense of humor and a lot of self-respect. Unfortunately, she is one of the few female characters in Endeavor I can say that about. 

Win Thursday is married to one of Endeavor’s two main characters and acts as a pseudo mother figure to the main main character. She is often seen cooking, or cleaning, or caring for her husband, son, daughter, and pseudo adopted son, the main main character Endeavor Morse, who just goes by Morse. There is nothing wrong with any of that, and she’s shown to be an intelligent, caring person, who stands up for herself when she needs to. However, she never really gets out of that role. She is a mother and a homemaker and a wife and that’s kind of it. She has no other storylines and in fact other than being window dressing or character development for the main characters, she’s really not involved in any of the show’s storylines. 

Shirley Trewlove is the first female constable in the police station from Endeavor. She faces a lot of flack for that and is condescended to by most of the men, including the head of the station, who views her as similar to his late daughter. She is shown to be very competent, able to stand up for herself, composed, kind, and intelligent. However, she is only in the show for one season then transfers out to a different station, ultimately not leaving a larger impact on the show or the main characters. 

Don’t get me started on Joan Thursday. She’s a character that I expect the show wants us to like but I simply don’t. I find her irresponsible, selfish, wishy-washy, and grating. She is the main love interest for Morse and their will-they won’t-they is one of the most infuriating things about the show. Admittedly at the beginning of the series she is very young, so a lot of her issues can be attributed to that, but she just continues to make poor decisions when she should know better and becomes more of an irritant to any progress than any help. She’s put on this pedestal by Morse and her parents and when she runs away from home due to feeling pressured by her parents, her father goes through a period of completely disowning and shaming her. 

Shall I add that we learn next to nothing about the pasts of any of these characters. 

In contrast:

Phryne Fisher is one of the most vibrant, intelligent, excellently written female characters I have ever seen. She’s witty, she’s comfortable in her body, she’s free-spirited, she’s very astute, she’s clever, she’s multi-talented, she’s self-possessed, she’s loyal, she’s passionate, she’s a feminist, she’s an ally, she’s supportive, she’s the whole package. We learn a ton about her past and the traumas that have shaped her into the person she is. She was an ambulance driver in WW1, leaving her with PTSD. She was in an abusive relationship with a man who beat her in her youth. She has lived all over the world and traveled to many places. She carries the weight of the death of her sister and her inability to truly get a confession out of the man she believes to be her sister’s killer. There’s so much depth to her. Yes she’s the main character but I’d argue we get nowhere near that much depth on Morse himself, despite having more seasons, longer episodes, and also being a main character. 

Dottie Collins is also a very complex character. She begins the show as a maid for a friend of Aunt Prudence, but quickly leaves that job to become Phryne’s housemate and housekeeper. She’s deeply Catholic, superstitious, unendingly sweet, but she’s also courageous, intelligent, and adaptable. Her religion is a point of contention for her and Phryne, who appears to be an atheist, but the two of them talk about it often and respect each others’ beliefs. Dottie has a sister who is a sex worker and it’s a point of major conflict between them but Dottie’s feelings about her sister are complex and if she treats her sister poorly she learns from her mistakes and apologizes and eventually they settle into a truce of sorts. Dottie gets into a relationship with a constable from a police station nearby and when he begins to veer towards patriarchal values she pushes back on it and successfully manages to make it clear to him that she is not his property and will not stand to be treated as such. She’s more than just Phryne’s sidekick, the two women make each other better people over the course of the show. 

Jane Fisher, and in this case I’m referring to Phryne’s sort-of adopted daughter not her late sister of the same name, is a young orphan living under the care of a verbally abusive woman. She ends up giving Phryne crucial information on a murder case and Phryne, even after professing to not enjoy dealing with children, takes Jane in. Jane is shown to be intelligent, getting a good education under Phryne and putting it to good use. She is also shown to be headstrong and resourceful. When Phryne begins teaching a self-defense class alongside comportment for down on their luck girls, it becomes clear that Jane is also vicious and ready to defend herself and very good at it. 

Aunt Prudence is a fascinating character. She’s an elderly Aunt of Phryne’s, very rich, very proper, and very snooty. However, over time she is also shown to care a great deal about her niece, no matter how judgemental she is about Phryne’s open sexuality. She is deeply committed to her charity work and truly cares about her friends. She also has a disabled son who tragically passes away in the show and whom she has cared for by herself for his whole life and deeply loves. She doesn’t approve of Phryne’s lifestyle but she doesn’t directly interfere to stop it. She treats Phryne as the independent adult she is. 

Doctor Mac is Phryne’s best friend and a very useful friend to have with regards to Phryne’s detective work. Mac has her medical license as a woman, which is unusual for the time, and she does take some flack for it. She’s a lesbian who has essentially a very close qpp relationship with a presumably straight woman (I have my doubts about Phryne’s sexuality but that’s likely wishful thinking). Mac and Phryne are each others’ confidants, having been made friends by both serving in WW1. Mac cares a ton about women’s rights, especially their rights to proper medical care, including safe abortions. She is disgusted by men who disrespect women, stands up for domestic violence survivors, and sympathizes with sexual assault victims. She also stands up for the rights of black women, but that isn’t quite as central to her character, more just a fun cool fact from one episode. Mac is caring and witty and sarcastic and kind and fun and very very smart. 

The difference between the two shows is stark to say the least. Not to mention that all other women who appear in Endeavor are usually victims, used as motivation for men committing crimes, cheaters, criminals themselves, unhelpful witnesses, or other underdeveloped roles. In contrast, the other women who appear in MFMM are nuanced, have complicated relationships with their own pasts, with the people around them. They range from sex workers to professional tennis players, to orphans on the street to the height of society, wives, girlfriends, single women, more defined by their professions and their passions than their relationships to the men around them. While some are the victims of violence they are not brushed aside as a single plot point, they’re treated respectfully and if not, the viewer is shown that the disrespectful treatment was wrong. They feel more like real people with more than three lines of character traits than any of the women in Endeavor. 

So, in conclusion, what really gets me is that Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries is not only set further in the past, the show itself was made earlier than Endeavor. The concept is roughly the same, a detective with unusual skills, somewhat different from everyone around them, working alongside a police detective to solve crimes, usually murders. And yet, not only does MFMM have a better gender balance in casting, its female characters are more complex, its queer characters more prevalent and treated with more respect, the cases more interesting (imo), the main characters deeper, and the show itself more colorful and intriguing. It grinds my gears to watch one show and know that the other is so much better at the same concept. Ultimately, everyone everywhere should watch Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries it is an absolute gem of a show and Endeavor, do better. 

/end rant

[visespruce42]

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[edelegs]

black eagles relationships i like but don’t see talked about enough

Ferdinand and Petra - I adore their supports. You see a lot of Ferdinand’s dorky side with his reading about historic weapons, and you see that he is genuinely curious about Petra’s culture. He admits that he initially didn’t realize how sophisticated Brigidian techniques are and I just adore his vulnerability with her. And then there’s Petra in their A support, admitting she found a second home in Fòdlan, and the two discuss their loneliness? It’s such interesting insight into both characters (especially Ferdie; I’d say these are some of his most well-rounded supports)

Hubert and Dorothea - Dorothea sees right through Hubert’s edgy theatre kid persona. She approaches him like she would any friend right from the beginning and teases him about his love life. She also respects and believes him when he says that unrequited love isn’t his motivation. I would’ve liked a conclusion that wasn’t Dorothea suggesting they marry, but it is really funny that she did that. I love their paired ending too--completely platonic espionage opera! What could be better?

Hubert and Byleth - in my head they have a quirky sitcom where Byleth keeps trying to arrange Edeleth/Ferdibert double dates and Hubert has to attend them. (but seriously, the appeal of Hubert is looking at this man and saying “I’m gonna make you like me”, and then you do it). Outside of my shipping biases, his threats to you are funny as shit considering that he has no power over you and he’s always dying in battle, but once you win his trust he admits that despite looking Blatantly Evil, he truly abhors TWSTID and is already planning their follow-up war. I could easily see him and Byleth co-leading the war in the shadows (and that’s where the dialogue of the aforementioned platonic Huleth workplace comedy takes place). Also my friend who played as m!Byleth told me the “we could be a couplet of birds” line in the A-support still exists regardless of gender. Hubert is demiromantic bi and you CANNOT change my mind 

Edelgard and Petra - “Don’t settle for being the bird. Be the arrow instead” Both have a great deal of mutual respect for each other, even though Edelgard is heir to the nation that has kept Petra’s country down for years. You see the same beliefs Petra holds in her supports with Caspar here--that being, “we are not our parents, we can make different choices”. It’s a shame they only have 2 supports. I think it would’ve been cool to see Petra asking Edelgard for Brigidian independence or otherwise talking about how she can achieve her goal. 

Edelgard and Linhardt - I actually think people talk about this a bit, but it’s one of my favourite Black Eagles support chains so I have to mention it. This one is the key to understanding that Edelgard’s better world is only possible in her route, when she has the support and opportunity to trust others enough to learn how to listen to them and consider their perspectives. I advise anyone who thinks Edelgard would be a brutal dictator to watch these supports, because they so blatantly contradict that idea? Linhardt initially frustrates her because she knows he’s talented and smart but he doesn’t want to do anything to help the world with that. Characters like Linhardt are usually given an arc in which they overcome an initial selfishness to help others. This is not that. These supports are about Edelgard learning to understand Linhardt and accommodate him. Edelgard agonizes over finding the perfect way to allow him to do his research in a way that suits him--and when she senses his hesitation at her initial plan, she presses him for the problem and reconfigures the idea because she won’t put him in a situation he’s not fully content in. This is astounding character growth (from both of them, but mostly Edelgard). Also the struggle depicted in this chain is just something that spoke to me when I first saw it--”be useful” versus “learn for knowledge’s sake” is pretty much my exact struggle in life 😂 Seeing two of my favourite characters reach a resolution that satisfied both of them was hopeful, to say the least. 

Caspar and Ferdinand - What strikes me about their supports is that it compares and contrasts these characters’ ideas of justice against each other. Honestly, the Black Eagles as a whole have takes on morality that are just slightly skewed, and these characters’ arguments about it exemplify it. Caspar just thinks that people who hurt others should be hit right away, head empty no thoughts but j u s t i c e. Ferdinand initially believes that all sense of justice comes from being nobility, and with that comes an obligation to be morally superior. Having Caspar just go “uh yeah, what does nobility have to do with it? I just had to hit that guy” is one way in which Ferdinand’s ideals are challenged. It’s a cool contrast that I think highlights an interesting aspect of the Black Eagles and what they were taught. 

Dorothea and Bernie - I love everything about their interaction. If Dorothea were a lesser character, she’d be the mean popular girl who shames Bernie for her messy hair and her anxiety. Instead, Dorothea is patient and Bernie is like “oh no she’s Too Cool for me”. Dorothea also makes note of what Bernie says as she gets too anxious to continue the interaction and aims to comfort her in their next support. We get a good Bernie character moment in their B-support, where she mentions her father ruining her friendship with a commoner boy--and a cathartic moment where Dorothea tells her that her father’s an asshole and that they’re going to be friends anyway. Bernie cries in Dorothea’s arms and AHHHH why didn’t we get MORE of this???

Bernie and Petra - If I could add any support and ending to the game, it would be Bernie/Petra. They have such a good starting point--because of Bernie’s anxiety and Petra being a second language speaker of Fòdlandish, they are prone to miscommunications (which is the general theme of early Bleagles supports). They had a nice 2-support arc where they understand each other a little better--but then there’s the paralogue, where Petra encourages Bernie to come to her homeland with her and Bernie realizes she wants to travel and see amazing things like carnivorous plants. This is fantastic character development for her and is a satisfying conclusion to her arc. I feel like most of Bernie’s endings involve her just reverting back to her hermit self instead of developing a balance between who she was at the beginning and who she’s grown into. I think Petra would offer to let her come to Brigid again, where she helps her navigate a new language and culture. Bernie’s anxiety is still bad but Petra has been in her position and can offer advise and reassurance. Petra is also patient and would give Bernie a safe little house near the carnivorous plants for her to retreat to when overwhelmed. It becomes both of their refuge, with Petra taking time away from her regal duties to spend time with Bernie and her art and her stories. Whether it’s romantic or platonic is up to preference but I low-key ship them 😏

[johannestevans]

it’s gonna be a Long update to Interpersonal Studies on Friday as a celebration of the star trek convention i’m going to be going wild at all weekend and 

lmfao

“Enjoin doesn’t have the connotations in English it does in Kardasi, you know,” said Julian. “To enjoin on someone is to tell them they have something they must do, a responsibility, but legally, an enjoinment is a… it’s a ban, an injunction.”

“How are the connotations different?” asked Damar.

“I— Well,” said Julian. “Being legally bound to someone through marriage or engagement is a commitment of the, the self. It’s not signing up for a list of prescribed responsibilities.”

“I thought your people said vows?”

“Well, we do, of course. To love the other person, to stand by them in sickness or in health, in wealth or poverty, in—”

“Isn’t all of that obvious?” interrupted Damar, looking at Julian with something that resembled horror now. “What about your duty to your children, to your respective families, your people, your Federation?”

“What does that have to do with it? A marriage is two people sharing their lives together, not a merging of government departments.”

“What’s the difference?” asked Varda. He didn’t ask it as urgently as Damar did, but the question seemed just as genuine.

“I, well,” said Julian. “Love? And it’s personal, they’re personal vows, they’re between two individuals. You’re not marrying someone’s family or their job or where they were born, you’re marrying them.”

“You cast these things off, then, upon marriage to another?” asked Damar. “You’re no longer the product of your birthplace or your family, you abandon your workplace and abdicate your responsibilities?”

“Well, no,” said Julian, aware that he was in too deep here, and that trying to argue your way out of Cardassian bureaucracy was a bit like trying to wrestle your way out of quicksand. All you could do was give in and carefully extract yourself. “What about… children? Your children, they’re not the product of your workplace, are they? Or your parents?”

“Of course they are,” replied Damar. “My children and my wife live with my parents.”

“Right,” said Julian. “Well, I live across the universe from my parents, so if I had children, they’d live with me. They might see me as a doctor, might even visit my workplace, but they wouldn’t be the product of my workplace. I suppose we almost think of a relationship between two people in love, a marriage, as a child of its own. Its own product, between just those two people.”

Damar narrowed his eyes, and took a sip of his kanar. “That’s depraved,” he said.

Julian couldn’t help how he started laughing, Damar said it so bluntly, and when Damar looked offended, he shook his head. “Sorry, sorry, Damar, I just… I’m not laughing at you. Just at cultural differences.”

[voiceless-terror]

Something to Talk About (TMA Fic)

Written for @jontim-week Day One: Rumors/Protect, warnings in tags

Rating: T

Words: 3,049

Summary: Jon and Tim deal with workplace rumors.

He’s only at the institute for six months when the rumors start.

Tim understands them, to a degree. He knows he’s liberal with his smiles and quick to charm, naturally affectionate and thinks nothing of an arm around the shoulder or a nudge to the side. Winking comes as easily as breathing. So yeah, he’s aware of how he comes off. People make assumptions, particularly in his case, as he’s been known to swing either way. It’s shitty and stereotypical, but sad to say he’s used to it.

What he doesn’t like, however, is when it involves his friends.

Tim’s friendly with most everyone, but he’s fallen into a group. When he first started, Sasha was assigned to train him and Tim’s not blind. She’s gorgeous, rivaling him in height and an even deadlier smile. She’s smart as a whip, willing to trade (occasionally hurtful) barbs and unafraid to give the bluntest of criticisms. And she’s a little strange too- she can wax poetic on the most esoteric of subjects, and wields her keyboard like a lethal weapon. Tim doesn’t want to know what she’s dug up on him. Sasha James is exactly his type...and very much not interested, despite the one night they spent together. She made it clear it wouldn’t be going any further and though it took time to get over that, he’s lucky to now count her as a friend. 

And Sasha and Jon are a package deal.

They’re an odd pair- Sasha, tall and imposing, Jon, scrawny and anything but. Jon kept to himself, barely spoke a word to Tim apart from a curt introduction, but with Sasha he shared an easy rapport. The two could spend hours debating the finer points of research methods- and if Tim was shocked by Sasha’s blatant disregard for privacy, he was even more so by Jon’s disregard for the law. Tim could spend hours listening to them snark back and forth, not getting a word in edgewise. At first glance he assumed they were dating, but when he tentatively broached the subject with Sasha, he got an almost mocking laugh. “Romance? Not my thing. And it’s very much Jon’s. We would not work out.”  

At first, Jon doesn’t seem interested in anything but work. He nods briskly at Tim as he sits across from him at his desk, occasionally answers a question or includes him on his tea run, but that’s about the extent of it. He stumbles through small talk, showing none of the easy grace and elegance of discussions with Sasha. After a few weeks, though, he opens up a bit more, allowing that deadpan humor to slip into conversations. He smiles (it’s crooked, a tiny thing but so endearing) and he lets out an occasional snort of laughter. He’s an encyclopedia of supernatural knowledge, able to practically recite his favorite passages and always eager to seek out new information. There’s nothing he enjoys more than thoroughly researching and debunking a case, and Tim can respect that. If he’s got a question on an article or a scholar, Jon’s the first one he approaches. He never asks questions, never pries. Tim appreciates that.

The two of them can make Tim genuinely laugh. Something he hasn’t done in the longest time.

They’re seen together more often than not. They’re a trio: if one’s on a case, it means the other two are as well. They’re a great team. So it’s natural that people would start to talk, make assumptions. The rumor mill is out of control; as it turns out, scholars need more than spooks to get them through the day. It starts with a few offhand comments about him and Sasha, ones that Sasha’s quick to shut down, even if there’s some truth to them. She’s never been afraid to speak her mind or come off as rude. It’s a trait Tim finds very admirable. 

But then it turns to him and Jon. 

He’s heard the snickers in the breakroom when they come in together, the arm around Jon’s shoulder mistaken for something beyond platonic familiarity. It’s not that he wouldn’t date Jon- he sees beyond Tim’s veneer, appreciates his intelligence as much as his wit, and isn’t bad looking himself. He’d consider asking him out if Jon weren’t so clearly uninterested in that sort of thing. People must mistake his blushes and stammer for a crush instead of his naturally shy and flustered demeanor. He puts up a good front for the others, scowling and snapping at most who cross his path, but he’s definitely a softie, Tim feels it in the way he leans into his side like a plant starved of sunlight. Jon needs someone in his corner that sees him too. 

So when Tim hears the mocking words in the break room, he loses it.

“Another notch on the bedpost, eh Stoker?” Marcus, the irritant from accounting with a perpetual sneer and permanently wrinkled shirt, says from his seat at the room’s sole table. “Didn’t think Sims was one to put out, but-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tim snarls, almost dropping his mug as he whirled around and stalked over to him. He’s almost surprised at the venom in the words, but the man took it a step too far. He knows those comments would be incredibly uncomfortable for Jon. And to be honest, he’s a bit pissed on his own behalf- can he not have a friend without someone assuming they’re sleeping together? 

Marcus immediately scoots back the two inches he can in his chair, attempting to hide his fear with a snide smile. It doesn’t work. “Whoa, calm down- didn’t think this was such a touchy subject for the likes of you-” 

“The fucks that supposed to mean?” He takes a step forward, reveling in Marcus’s flinch. Not such a tough guy now, eh? Tim’s not going to hurt him, no matter how much he wants to. But it’s an old wound reopened- he doesn’t need this reputation, and he doesn’t want Jon to go down with him.

“I-I-”

“I hope to god you haven’t said that around him,” he snarls, jabbing a finger in Marcus’s chest. “And you’re going to stop it with this shit before it gets round to him. We aren’t dating, we aren’t fucking. Me and Jon? Not a thing, never have been, never will be. Do you understand me?” Marcus stutters, swallowing nervously. Tim takes a step closer, leans as close as he can and narrows his eyes. “I said-”

“Yes, yes! Christ, I get it!” He puts his hands up in a placating gesture, as if trying to calm a wild animal. He’s scared. Good. “I’ll shut it, alright? Just- back the fuck up.”

Tim stares for a moment, relishing in the man’s fear, before giving Marcus a cheery grin. “Well! As long as we’re understood. See ya around!”

He turns on his heel and walks out, attempting to calm his racing pulse. Tim’s not one for confrontation, he prefers calm discussion over impulsive anger.

Sometimes, however, it gets the job done.

________

And now Jon’s avoiding him.

Well, not really. He still sits at the same desk, gives him his usual morning greeting and answers any work-related questions. But he doesn’t join in on any of their conversations, he dodges any attempt at familiarity that he used to lean into. He skips their lunches with the excuse of being too busy, and barely smiles in Tim’s direction. He didn’t realize how much he relied on that affection until it stopped. It stings.

Maybe someone said something to him, maybe the rumor got around? He’s going to kill Marcus if that’s the case, but when confronted, the man insists he shut up, and Tim’s inclined to believe him, if the ‘I’m going to shit my pants’ look he gave him was any cue. He wants to ask Jon about it, but that could make him more uncomfortable than he already is. If Jon needs space, Tim’s going to give it to him. No matter how much it hurts.

So he goes along with it, starts talking to him less and less, stamps down the urge to crack a joke or throw an arm around his shoulder. Doesn’t ask him to after work drinks. 

That doesn’t stop him from checking in on Jon every so often, leaving a protein bar on the days he works past lunch, bringing him coffee before he gets in and saying it’s from Sasha. They’re at a strange impasse, but Tim’s starting to accept the new routine.

Sasha isn’t.

“Can you two just talk?” She asks one day over shitty sandwiches in the canteen. “I can’t stand this tense atmosphere you’ve got going. What happened?”

Tim sighs, pushes away his plate and runs a hand through his hair. “There were all those rumors going about, remember? I told Marcus to fuck off, but I think Jon caught wind of something, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable-”

“Are you serious?” Sasha interrupts with a groan and a roll of her eyes. “Make him uncomfortable? Tim, I’ve never seen him happier than when he’s around you. He’s relaxed, he smiles. You don’t know how rare that is. We’ve known each other for two years, and he’s around you for six months and suddenly he can talk about something other than work.”

Tim tries to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the words. He couldn’t have made that much of a difference, Jon would do that with anyone, given the chance to open up. It’s not Tim’s doing. “Well, he’s the one avoiding me! I’m trying to give him space, really-”

“Space? Communicate!” Sasha slaps her hand down on the table with every syllable, startling the few others in the room. “You’re grown men, not children.”

“Communicate?” Tim snorts. “That’s rich, coming from the ice queen herself. You didn’t talk to me for a week after I made fun of that stupid show you love-”

“Time Team was an excellent programme, and I won’t be hearing any more slander.” She stood up, her chair squeaking back with the force of it, and picked up her tray to glare down at him. God, was she good at that. “Either talk to Jon, or I’ll go back to the silent treatment. And I’m great at it.”

Sasha follows through with her threat. She doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the day, studiously ignoring his questions and jokes, at one point propping a book up like a shield. It’s childish. And very effective. 

Looks like he’s going to have to talk to Jon.

______

“Did I do something wrong?” 

Jon jumps at the words, almost dropping the book in his hands. Tim’s managed to corner him in one of the more secluded areas of the library that Jon’s taken a recent liking to. Wonder why, Tim thinks with not a small amount of sarcasm.

Jon takes a step back, blinking innocently. “What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me these past couple of weeks.” Tim leans against a bookshelf, trying to seem nonchalant despite his clear nerves. He doesn’t want to seem threatening or accusatory, and Jon could very easily bolt.  “You never come to lunch, or talk with me and Sash. I just want to know if something’s wrong.”

Jon dodges his gaze as he hugs the book to his chest like a shield. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” Tim heaves a sigh; he’s going to have to be more blunt. Jon clearly wants to avoid the conversation, but he’s always responded better to clear phrasing and direct questions.

“Look, I don’t know what rumors you’ve been hearing,” Tim runs a hand through his hair nervously, carefully choosing his words. “But if I’m doing anything that makes you uncomfortable-”

“Me?” Jon lets out an incredulous laugh that gives Tim pause. “No- I - I thought I was making you uncomfortable.”

Tim stares. This was not a possibility he prepared for when practicing in front of the mirror. How could Jon think that? Was it something he said? Did? Now he’s running through their interactions, trying to pinpoint a time where he might have seemed cold or distant.

“B-Being clingy, I don’t know.” If Jon hugs that book any harder, it’s liable to break. “Getting too close, getting the wrong idea. I know you don’t like me in that way, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with those rumors. That’s not fair.”

“What?” Clingy? Now that’s a word he never thought he would hear applied to Jon.

“I heard you. W-With Marcus. In the break room.” Jon bit his lip, a habit Tim always chided him on. He controls the urge to do it now. “You seemed so mad. And I didn’t want to be the cause of any more rumors for you, so I thought it best to...well, avoid you.”

Tim squints at him in confusion. Jon thinks he’s protecting Tim. The thought is both amusing and heartwarming, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I mean- yes, I was mad about that, but I...I didn’t want you to have to hear that. I know how uncomfortable that shit makes you, and Marcus is an ass- he won’t let up until you put him in his place. Besides, I don’t care about that dick and whatever he thinks. I care about you.”

“O-Oh,” Jon mumbles, looking to the ground and shuffling his feet. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, as if trying to find the courage to voice his thoughts. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely audible. “It’s j-just...you made it sound so awful.”

Tim’s face softens. “Made what sound awful?”

“...Dating me.” Oh.

“Oh, Jon.” The mumbled words tug at his heartstrings. he really didn’t think Jon cared about all of that, but the man does have feelings. Tim could see how the words would hurt, and the vehemence he said them with probably didn’t help. He takes a tentative step forward, like he’s approaching a spooked animal, but Jon accepts the hand reaches for his shoulder, still not meeting his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Anyone would be lucky to have you-”

“But not you.” 

Tim freezes and Jon shuts his eyes tightly, as if waiting for a blow that won’t ever come. He shrugs off Tim’s hand and starts to back away. “I’m sorry, forget I said anything-”

“Hang on,” Tim starts, gazing at the trembling man in front of him as a thought suddenly occurs. He doesn’t- he couldn’t- “What was that?”

“I-I-”

Tim takes a step closer. Jon doesn’t move. “Do you- did you like me?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know!” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, wincing as it gets stuck in his messy bun. Tim would’ve laughed if he weren’t also spiraling. “But you clearly don’t like me, and that’s fine-”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Jon liked him. And Tim- Tim could’ve done something about it. “We could’ve-”

“I did!” Jon cries out, waving his book emphatically. “I asked you out and you said no! Months ago.”

Tim pauses. Huh? He runs back through as many conversations as he can remember, trying to think of any occasion where Jon might have asked him out, and comes up blank. Tim’s not that oblivious. “Okay, you’re going to have to help me out here. When exactly did this happen?”

“Back in December,” Jon says, as if talking to a child. “I told you about that new bookstore that opened near my flat.”

“..Okay.” He vaguely remembers Jon enthusing about this, but not very clearly. 

“They have a cat there, too.” Ah, now he remembers. Jon’s face always lights up when he talks about felines, and he’s seen more than a few pictures of a fat tabby on his phone. It’s adorable.

“I’m following.”

“And how they had a fairly comprehensive history section.” Another beat. Jon’s looking at Tim like he’s supposed to be getting the picture. He is not. “And the café next door. That sold the chai lattes you like.”

“I do like a latte.”

“And then you said, and I quote! “Sounds like your scene.” and turned back to your desk.” Jon crosses his arms, triumphantly. Apparently, he’s proven a point. Tim does not see this, and he’s pretty sure Jonathan Sims is the most infuriating man he’s ever met in his life. 

“Jon, there wasn’t a single question in that statement. You just monologued about a bookstore-”

“The question was implied!”

“Oh my god-” 

“And you turned around, and it seemed like you weren’t interested and I-I didn’t think I could handle if you said that to my face so I just- I dropped it, okay? It’s fine.” At this Jon loses all momentum, hunching his shoulders as if trying to disappear. He most certainly doesn’t look fine. 

And Tim’s going to change that.

“All this time,” he begins dramatically. Jon deserves a bit of theater. “All this time, we could’ve been going to bookstores, and having lattes, and-”

Jon’s head shoots up, his eyes going comically wide. “What?”

“What I’m trying to say,” Tim puts a hand on his hip, gives him the Stoker Smirk. Jon gulps. “Is the offer still on the table? Bookstore cat and all?” He watches as Jon gapes at him, suddenly fumbling with his book, as if suppressing a little stim of the hands.

“R-Really?”

“Course. Unlike some of us, I can ask a man a question.” Jon blushes even as he scowls. Tim’s looking forward to seeing more of that. “Whaddya say?”

“I-I’d like that.” He watches as Jon tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, suddenly demure. He hazards a glance up at Tim and lets out a little laugh. “I’m a bit of an idiot, aren’t I?”

“No more than I am,” Tim replies, throwing an arm around his shoulder and remembering just how right it feels to have Jon nestled against his side. He missed that. “Now, what’s the cat's name?”

“Spoons!” Jon perks up, his smile widening. “I think you’ll really like him.”

The rumor mill is gonna have a field day with this one. And for once, Tim doesn’t mind.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061116

[my-darling-boy]

Right sorry I have to vent about something. I didn’t really want to post this but Oh Well it’s bothering me and I hope I’m not the only one who feels like this.

What I thought was me obsessing over a little mistake I made at work was actually the tip of the iceberg to this terror I feel internally realising as I get older, I’m required by society to mask my autism more and more because they see you as an inconvenience. But now that I’ve created this Highly Socially Convenient version of myself to fit into other people’s social standards, especially in the workplace, I can no longer make mistakes without people attributing them to laziness or carelessness or “stupidity”. It’s one of the many examples of people assuming “if I can’t see something, it doesn’t exist.” I’m constantly assessed with the “but you don’t LOOK autistic!” You shouldn’t have to know I’m autistic to start treating me with more care and respect.

If a customer is having trouble with the keypad, I don’t rip the thing around and jam their card in, annoyed. If a customer can’t hear me very well, I don’t roll my eyes when I have to repeat myself. If a coworker doesn’t understand how to use a register function, I don’t sigh heavily and shove them aside to fix it. Everyone is always apologising for making mistakes with their payment options or having to run back cos they forgot something or for “taking so long” or for doing this or that. People are sweating hurriedly counting out coins and notes and apologising but you don’t need to hurry! Take your time!! My line might be long but I know when I rush counting money, I get it wrong cos I can’t focus sometimes in chaotic, loud environments.

I’m so used to apologising for things I do as an autistic person and when I see others doing the same, I say they don’t have to be sorry. The checkstands are not easily accessible to understand or operate. People are rude and rushing. We’re wearing masks so it’s harder to hear/see facial expressions. Literally none of this is person’s fault, and yet they’re apologising like the checkstand or their communication style or even the angry customers behind them are their fault. And I do the same thing. The one thing I say ALL DAY LONG is “I’m sorry.” I say it so often that half the time I’m not even sure why I’m apologising, all I know is things that are out of my control are usually pinned as “my fault” somehow so I just say I’m sorry all the time. I’m apologising, the customer is apologising, my coworker is apologising, we’re all just so sorry for having to be in a building that isn’t meant to accommodate anyone.

Most of my interactions at work involve me making sure I’m being as accommodating as I can to who I’m speaking with because rarely are people accommodating towards me and I don’t want to make others feel like they’re an inconvenience the way I’ve been made to feel like one. I know by default that something that is easy for one person may not be easy for another person. And if an allistic person cares to think about this at all, it’s so bizarre to me that they assume it means a person is careless, lazy, or irresponsible.

I work retail and talking to people is literally my job, but it’s usually not an issue so long as they fit a social script in my head. Tasks are repetitive which means I learn them fast and perform them fast. When left alone, I resort to tasks I was shown how to do: clean, collect, etc. I follow instructions, ask questions. I’m always told I’m such a “competent, responsible employee” for this, even though 80% of my motivation for doing these things are out of constant fear of hidden consequences if I don’t do exactly as I’m told. And if someone starts saying I’m their favourite closer or the fastest cashier or the most helpful employee, I only get nervous about how disappointed this person would be in me if I showed any ounce of something different if one day I had a shutdown at work.

I wouldn’t know how to tell anyone why sometimes I’m a minute late to work for a few days, or why I lost track of time doing X, why X took me so long, why suddenly I don’t make a lot of conversation, why I suddenly lose ability to multitask, or why I keep making silly little mistakes when I “seem like such a good employee who can stay on top of things.” Sometimes I genuinely don’t know if I’ve done something wrong! There are grey areas of employment and social interaction that will always confuse me no matter what. Instead of taking just a moment to explain something I did incorrectly, or just take 10 seconds to show me how to do something, people right away are predisposed to snapping at you and being rude without so much as a little explaination to help you. And if they’re going to snap at me for a small question, how could I ever bring up something more? When? How? When a customer I’m not understanding is giving me a hard time, do I give into them and give them the discount they wanted and possibly get in trouble or do I call over a manager who is going to scold me for not understanding them?

There doesn’t seem to be a lot of space to discuss being autistic to anyone or time to dismantle stereotypes. I feel like I have to keep putting on a presentation and suppressing parts of myself or force myself to conform to allistic standards that make me uncomfortable while allistic people would never think about accommodating mine. I’ve heard so much offensive language towards autsitic people from basic team members, management, and customers at every job I’ve ever been at. And when something like that is THAT widespread and ingrained to how these people think, where and how do you even begin to address it? Who do you talk to? Who’s to say the person meant to handle these things at work isn’t making R word jokes minutes later?

Every job I get hired at assures me that I will be treated fairly, to the same standard as other employees. But to me, there seems to be something Off about fairness when it comes to performance. The problem is, the model of that standard is often a person who is not autsitic. I see it in the way supervisors walk up to me when I can’t get something to scan. I see it in the way they squint accusingly at me behind their mask if I need something explained more. I see it in the way coworkers have attributed their “stupid mistakes” to being “the r word”. They critisise lack of verbal communication or eye contact, they sigh when things need to be phrased differently, they stand impatiently while you’re trying to figure something out. In the break room, I hear people left and right laughing about or getting irritated over customers who are described as doing some of the things I do. I’ll always remember this one really nice customer who always came into the store and would put her items up on the counter slowly and would talk to you about her day, and I never had a problem with the speed at which she did anything because why would I? I don’t need to rush her, there’s no reason to. But a manager, after she had left one time, mimicked the way she spoke and said she was “the r word”. And I felt crushed.

No matter what a company says, in their eyes, we’re made to feel like the undesired. The inconvenience. The ones holding up lines or turning on the assistance blinkers at checkstands. There shouldn’t be people steaming behind us or snapping to go faster or shouting “Why don’t you understand?? Are you stupid??” I’ve found the discrimation against autsitic people in the workplace is a lot of times in subtlety, and to me it feels like what is being done to me isn’t noticable at first until I realise it’s eating away at me: the glares, the exaggerated sighs, the comments, the derogatory language. I always feel like someone standing outside a window while everyone else is on the inside. That’s what makes this type of treatment so insidious, because convenient for companies, they don’t have anything in their handbooks that protects me from their deeply imbedded practice of equating many traits of my autism with being an unsatisfactory employee. And usually by the time I’ve picked up on it, it’s too widespread for me to even sort out all that’s happened and I’m left feeling like I should just bear it. “Well then the job isn’t meant for you” someone might say. No, capitalist society doesn’t make room for people like me. In fact, I’ve never encountered a job that was meant for me. And I’m tired of having to say I’m sorry for myself and bend over backwards for capitalist “”””we’re a family”””” corporations and the society they’ve infected whom they’ve taught to not give two shits about people like me.

[dickwheelie]

heyyyy coming in a few days early with the “expression” prompt for @aspecarchivesweek! just a lil something about jon wearing a shirt he doesn’t like. enjoy!

(also on ao3)

_______________

All of Jon’s clothes are in greyscale.

Well, this isn’t entirely true—some are a very light tan, or a dingy brown. One mothbitten vest is a glaring 70’s orange that Jon deeply dislikes, so it stays at the back of his closet. These are the clothes he inherited from his parents and possibly also his grandparents, which he can’t bring himself to throw away. The rest, however, strictly range from white to black, practical to a fault.

Jon has a working theory that he may be the first person in history with an allergy to clothing stores. Entering one instantly stresses him out, and all he wants is to get what he came for and get out as quickly as possible. Figuring out how to match colors, as he eventually learns by the time he’s in uni, is a waste of time and consideration. Much easier and simpler to only buy clothes in shades that match no matter how you swap them out.

Of course, there are exceptions, and as life goes on in its chaotic and unaccountable way, he acquires items of clothing he wouldn’t otherwise have picked for himself. A colorful sweater from Georgie as a birthday gift. A free T-shirt from a uni event. He keeps these things for their sentimental value, but rarely wears them out of the house.

However, sometimes life is not only chaotic but also utterly unmanageable. And sometimes Jon finds himself with a promotion he doesn’t really know what to do with, an entire archive to organize, and less time than he’s ever had to do laundry.

And, well. One has to wear something to work, doesn’t one.

This is what Jon keeps telling himself as he miserably pulls on the last clean shirt left in his flat. He should know; he’s checked four times, and if he checks a fifth he’ll be late for work. He gives himself a glance in the small, dirty mirror stuck to the inside of his closet door, and looks away almost immediately, strangely embarrassed.

It’s just a long-sleeved, striped T-shirt, which is maybe a bit unprofessional for the workplace, but it’s not as though anybody minds how the people who work in the basement dress. The problem comes from its colors. Well, one of its colors. Three of them—black, grey, white—are perfectly suitable for Jon. But following those, at the bottom of the shirt, is a glaring, bright violet.

The shirt is a casualty of the aforementioned chaos of life. A friend of an acquaintance had given it to Jon to wear to a pride parade several years back, which he had ended up skipping out on anyway. Since then the shirt had been kept out of sight and mind, packed into the back of Jon’s closet for a rainy day that he’d never really expected to arrive.

There’s a first time for everything, Jon thinks, almost reflexively. The words don’t mean much to him, philosophically speaking, but they are a steadying mantra nonetheless. He goes to pull on his coat; by some measure of luck, it’s a cold day out. He plans not to take it off again until he’s safely back in his flat that night.

The trouble is, of course, that wearing one’s coat while making tea in the break room in an adequately-heated basement looks rather conspicuous to one’s coworkers, and leads to questions.

“You feeling alright, boss?” Tim asks, as he retrieves his bagged lunch from the fridge.

“Yes,” Jon says, stiffly. “Perfectly fine. I’m just cold.”

Sasha, who has followed Tim in, says, “Not sick, I hope.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Jon says again, though he is beginning to feel a bit overheated. “It’s just cold in here. You don’t feel cold?”

Tim and Sasha shake their heads, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” Jon says for the third time in thirty seconds, and promptly flees the break room.

By late afternoon, Jon is sweltering, and has no choice but to take off the coat. He’s careful to close his office door before he does so, resolving to put it back on if he needs to be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.

Though the garish violet stripe in his periphery is distracting at first, he loses himself in his work soon enough, spending an hour or two tearing through a stack of statements that are, by and large, utter nonsense.

He loses himself in his work so much, in fact, that when there’s a knock at his office door, he says “Come in,” without thinking.

“Hey, Jon,” says Tim as he enters, “d’you have a copy of statement zero-one-three-two . . .”

Tim’s voice drifts off, and Jon looks up, irritated. “Zero-one-three-two-what?”

Tim’s staring at him, an eager expression on his face, and Jon’s stomach goes cold. He looks down at the shirt, remembering, and stops himself from groaning. If he doesn’t react, maybe Tim will leave it alone. “What number were you looking for, Tim?” he says instead, very calmly and professionally.

But of course it doesn’t work. Tim’s face breaks into a smile, and he gives Jon a big, showy once-over. Jon rolls his eyes even before the words are out of Tim’s mouth. “Looking good, boss.”

“Tim, I have even less patience for sarcasm than usual, so if you could please—”

“Who said anything about sarcasm? You look good! Casual, ah, Tuesday suits you, Jon.”

Jon puts his elbows up on his desk and massages his temples. “I ran out of laundry.”

“Ah, been there.” Tim seems to have taken Jon’s resignation as an invitation, because he helps himself to the chair opposite Jon’s desk. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the pride flag type, though. Don’t even think I’ve seen you with laptop stickers.”

“No,” Jon says, “I’m not. Not usually. This is just the only thing I had lying around. It’s from years ago, I never wear it.”

“Aw.” Tim genuinely looks disappointed. Jon wonders if perhaps he’s losing what remains of his tenuous ability to read people. “That’s a shame. You look good in purple.”

Jon has reached a point in his life, he’s fairly certain, where he ought to have heard such a comment before, or at least know the proper response. In actuality, he cannot recall a single instance of someone in his adult life complimenting his choice of fashion. He looks down at the shirt again. It’s the same as it was before: too-bright and obvious. He highly doubts it could look good on him in any shape or form. “Um. Thank you?” he says, sounding more bewildered than grateful.

“Really! It, like, brings out your eyes, or something. I dunno, but I think it’s nice on you. Not sure why you went through all the trouble to hide it all day.”

Jon shifts in his chair. “It’s . . . I mean, it’s very loud, isn’t it. And obvious. It’ll just attract attention.”

Tim looks at him for a moment or two. “Jon,” he says, “is this just about the shirt? Or is it also about the shirt?”

“That makes no sense, Tim.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jon, admittedly, does. One of the things he appreciates most about Tim is that they can be honest with one another, if only after some customary back-and-forth. He sighs deeply. “It’s—it’s just . . . a lot. I know it isn’t, really, in the grand scheme, it’s just you and Sasha, a-and Martin, too, I suppose. And it’s London, no one’s going to—it’s safe. I know that. B-But it’s a lot, being seen with everything—out in the open. By strangers. To know that they know. And even if they don’t know, they’ll . . . they’ll probably be able to guess.” He stares down at the scratched, cheap wood of his desk. Long ago, someone had carved a tiny pentagram on the lip of it. If Jon’s sense of humor weren’t buried under three layers of anxiety at the moment, he’d probably find it funny. “And I know it’s childish, to care what a bunch of strangers would think. But I can’t . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t just let it go.”

There’s a painfully long pause before Tim speaks up again.

“Well, I’ve got good news for you, Jon.”

Jon looks up at him warily, and finds that Tim is smiling at him. “What?”

He points at Jon’s coat where it hangs off the back of his chair. “You can put that back on.”

Jon blinks at him.

“At five,” Tim goes on, “you can put your coat back on, button it up, and walk out of here, and when you get back to your flat, Jon, you can do your bloody laundry. And you never have to wear that shirt ever again. Problem solved.”

“But . . .” Jon’s voice peters out before he can come up with a real protest.

“If wearing pride colors makes you feel like that,” Tim says, his voice gentler, “then don’t wear them. Simple as that. Not everybody’s got to carry a flag twenty-four-seven. Or ever. Doesn’t make you any less queer. Hell, even I take the pins off my bag sometimes.” Tim squints into the middle distance, muttering, “I can never seem to get the laptop stickers off, though.”

“But—what about what you said about me wearing purple?” He’s grasping at straws, he knows, but Tim’s argument is quite good. And the thought of never wearing this particular shirt again does sound rather appealing.

“So wear an aubergine button-down every once in a while!” Tim shrugs. “Or don’t! It’s none of my business.” He tilts his head to the side. “Actually, please do wear an aubergine button-down sometime. You’d turn some heads down here.” He pauses. “Figuratively, I mean. I’m sure everyone would be very respectful.”

Jon lets out a startled laugh. “Alright,” he says, feeling lighter. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe, sometime, I’ll . . . I’ll try it.”

“I know you like your blacks and whites, Jon,” Tim says, “and I’m not here to tell you how to dress. But if you ever need advice, or want to borrow a colorful, strictly nondenominational shirt . . .” He points both thumbs at himself. “I’m your guy.”

“Okay,” Jon says, and is surprised to find that, in this one, specific case, he is.

“And,” Tim adds, pointing a professorial finger in the air, “it’s not childish to care about what other people think of you. Pretty sure it’s the most universal thing there is. Welcome to the human race, Jon. You’re among us peons, now.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “How unfortunate,” he says, drily, and Tim cackles.

Jon wears his coat home, keeping it carefully buttoned, and when he gets back to his flat he tosses the shirt into the back of his closet from whence it came. He’s not going to throw it away altogether, of course. It has sentimental value. Someday, maybe, he’ll dig it back up, if only just to look at.

For now, Jon does his bloody laundry.

[sadachmesarthim]

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au  -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc. 

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw.  Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge. 

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls... 

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around. 

And running into Tony face first. 

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster. 

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk. 

It was picturesque, the mess they made. 

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!” 

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses. 

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier. 

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face. 

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense. 

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone. 

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away. 

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job. 

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out. 

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern. 

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him! 

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it. 

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast. 

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...” 

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries. 

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own. 

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?” 

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word. 

What a douchebag. 

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 2

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 4k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE]

The due dates that Tobirama gave you are more reasonable and flexible than you thought. You try to find something to complain about so you can relay it to Madara later and earn a small smile from him, but no, there is no reason to complain about it. The only thing you want to complain about are his so-called rules. Tobirama is not about leisure or lightening up, though that is not a bother to you if you are going to be honest. Planning to mess with him a little is just an attempt to wipe off that serious face of his. You want to know him based on what you see from him, not from what other people have told you.

However, you also do not want to mess things up. You are determined to work as hard as he does for this project because it is special to the village and for the children that are going to be attending the Academy. 

Also because you know you’ll get paid for it. You have been running low on money these days ever since you bought your own place. 

 Now that you are older, you wish you had the proper education to be a shinobi. You have to learn most of your skills along the way and apart from your family who had basically banished you, and even now, you are still learning as there are a lot of things that you missed. 

 Now, the children that are going to grow up here have something better for the future. They have more choices and bigger chances to become good shinobis. 

You get settled in your bed, which is literally the only furniture your place has. It is your dining table, your workplace, and also your resting place. Your weapons are littered on the floor, and your swords are leaning against the wall in one corner of the room. The books and the scrolls given to you lay open or stacked near your bed where you can reach for it. Some clean laundry you have yet to get to sit on the foot of your bed, and the space you are currently lying on is the only space your bed can make for you at the moment. 

 Quaint, but it has a lot of potential. 

Your new home, which is situated just at the edge of the village and newly built, is a home for civilians and also other shinobis who are not part of a clan, or those who rather have a place for themselves. This is a sign that the village is growing, and more and more families are becoming involved with it. 

You force yourself to go through the many materials that you need to read and study up on for the rest of the night until midnight, and you begin to write your suggestions after going through the material once again. You are good at absorbing information, but at the same time, you have trouble keeping still for a very long time. Sometimes you have the unfortunate ability to memorize the wrong things because your mind zeroes into whatever your brain wants to obsess over. 

 However, you have made it this far. You can adjust. 

You hope. 

//

You are pretty sure that Tobirama is sending you around the village in a goose chase just so that he can work on the curriculum himself. It’s obvious he did not want you near him with all those rules about preserving his boundaries. The said goose chase sounds reasonable enough–talk to the members of the clans, the ones who are the keeper of their knowledge and history and write them down. He did not even look you in the face when he sent you away, he just gave you a list of what to ask the clans residing in Konoha and a blank notebook and a scroll for you to record all of the information in. 

 This whole ordeal occupied you for the whole day and it also happens to bleed through the next day, in which you are convinced Tobirama has completed at least half the work. 

The thought does not make you happy. You want to do something, damn it. You feel like your life depends on it. 

Another day passes, and this time, Tobirama has you looking for artists, merchants, inventors and other skilled people in Konoha and recording their name and the location to find them. This part you understand well because you know that Hashirama wants to expand on other skills, but it feels so tedious and it makes the day longer. Not to mention, you do not really know anyone since you have been busy polishing your skills with Madara. Now that you think about it, you spend an awful lot of time with the man, ever since you came here. 

 Before you know it, you are breaking into a run towards the Hokage mansion. 

 Tobirama cannot be left to his own devices. You will not let him take this from you. 

You find the white-haired man seated on his usual spot, hand poised elegantly over a sheet of paper and eyes moving along the lines of a book he is reading. 

“Finished already?” Tobirama says in a very flat tone. 

 “Yeah, of course, I already know the people to put down.” Okay, that was a lie, and you know Tobirama had caught that because he glances at you briefly with narrowed eyes. 

You walk up to him and you lay out the information you gathered today. 

“Where’s your family from?” Tobirama straight up asks you without any preamble. The expression on his face does not change though you can feel that he is bothered by you. 

 You are taken aback by a beat, but you have no problem answering it. You have memorized the lines that you have to say that it begins to feel true. “They are a little far north from here, but they’re just traders, merchants, skillsmen.” 

 “Of what?” 

 “With the right amount of money, anything.” You say in an even, but casual tone. “They don’t like shinobi, so I left to make a living of my own.”

You can tell Tobirama did not like your answer. He puts his pen down and you feel him scrutinizing you. 

 "You have any friends?" He immediately follows up. 

 However, you have long mastered the skills of deflecting and only letting people know certain things about you. They always see what they want to see in you, never bothering to put two and two together that you are just painting a pretty picture for them to look at. 

 "Too many," you reply vaguely. 

 Tobirama sighs, and his eyes narrow. 

“I cannot trust you if you continue to evade me. This is integral to this village and its future, and I cannot have, no, I cannot afford to waste time or make mistakes,” Tobirama says and he meets your eyes. 

“I can promise you, I am ready to work just as much as you so let's not get personal,” you lean back and cross your arms. “And after this, I will get out of your hair forever. You wouldn’t even have to hear from me.” 

 Tobirama rolls his eyes, but you can tell he is satisfied with your answer. “Oh please, with a village this small, and me, holding an important position in the said village, you cannot guarantee that.” 

 You smirk and you pull out the chair across from him. “Touché, Lord Tobirama,” you emphasize the lord with a mocking tone. 

Tobirama grits his jaw visibly and he grabs his pen almost angrily. You are starting to think that maybe this is what Tobirama generally looks like. 

 “Get to work.” 

 “What is it this time? List the several types of drinks the people in this village make? Investigate the best type of fabric to wear for each season?” You prompt, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your lips. He just let you get away with calling him lord. 

 Adding a title to someone’s name is supposed to be a sign of respect, but the way you say it makes it sound derogatory. Like you’re cursing him. 

Tobirama looks about ready to yell, and part of you wants him to take the bait. You lean closer to gauge his reactions and you watch him immediately school his expression. It is like watching a magic show, one moment something is there, the next, it disappears. 

“Well, if you wanted me to make up more tasks for you to do, you should have just asked,” Tobirama deadpans. 

You watch him, intrigued. “Wow. Are you trying to be funny, or are you trying to insult me?” 

 “Please stop talking when I am working,” Tobirama does not sound like he is pleading. He hands you a stack of books to go through. “I want you to compile a list of necessary skills that you deem important, and I will do the same. We can discuss and vet on which skills are required to learn for each grade level right after.” 

You let out a breezy laugh, and you note how Tobirama seems to twitch at the sound. “Right, right, fine.” You pause. “Have you looked at my notes?”

“Of course I have,” Tobirama huffs and he shoots you a distasteful glare, and to you, it looks like he’s tired of talking. “I will make my own notes on where you’re lacking and then you revise it.” 

 “What do we need those for?” You ask, genuinely curious. “What else are we in charge of making?” 

“The reason I had you seek out artists, writers, bookmakers, and the like, is because we will commission them to make textbooks,” Tobirama explains. “We just need to get the information together. Meanwhile, I would also like to fill this library and another public library with other kinds of books.” 

You tap your chin. “Your brother tells me you like to invent things and all that. Are you going to include your research and your inventions in the library?” 

 Tobirama sighs, visibly withering at the statement that his brother talks behind his back, but he revives himself enough to get back to his work. “Depends on what my brother approves of.” 

You let out an involuntary chuckle. Here are the two most powerful known shinobis in the world right now, and they argue over mundane things. 

 Tobirama raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. 

He takes that as a sign to keep on working, so you decide to keep to yourself. 

 Surprisingly, you are starting to enjoy this. It’s not as bad as you imagined. 

//

Perhaps you spoke too soon, because here you are at the crack of dawn–no not even the crack of dawn because the surroundings are still dark blue. You yawn as you arrive, and find Tobirama waiting in the middle of the training ground in a different outfit you have not seen him in. He seems to only have one color palette; he wears a navy wrap-around jacket that has a collar in a lighter shade of blue. The sleeves are short, showing off his muscles, and all of this is tied with a light yellow-green belt around his waist. A sword is secured to his belt, and it hangs on his side ready to be drawn. A happuri guards his forehead and the sides of his face, and for some reason, this makes him look more authoritarian and older. A mesh armor peeks through the space between his collars and even in your sleepiness, you note a defined torso that you keep to yourself. 

You do not even see an ounce of sleepiness in him and you huff.  

 Tobirama merely glances at you, but every time he looks at you, it feels like he is already exasperated. 

 “Is it just us?” You try not to sound too whiny. “Also I ate breakfast, I’m not falling for whatever it is you have in mind.” 

 “And what do you think is on my mind?” 

 “I don’t know? A test of survival, starving us for days in the forest with only the surroundings as our resource?” You rest a hand on your two swords–an uchigatana and a wakizashi, both the same in appearance and made from the same metal. 

“I said not to eat too much breakfast, I did not discourage you from it.” Tobirama lets out a sarcastic sigh–something he can really pull off well. “I am not that cruel.” 

 You hear an excited gasp behind you and you turn to find Sarutobi Hiruzen and Shimura Danzo walking towards the two of you. 

“Tobirama-sensei!” Hiruzen calls enthusiastically, at the crack of dawn. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought my friend again!” 

You glance at Tobirama and you see his face visibly soften at the sight of his student. 

“And I didn’t know Y/N-sensei’s joining us!” Hiruzen bounds up to you and you reach up to ruffle his hair. He turns to you and points at Tobirama. “He’s a really cool sensei! Really cool!” 

Tobirama suddenly looks constipated and you laugh out loud. 

 “We’ll see, kiddo,” you tell him. “We’ll see.” 

Two more kids come, and the girl, Utatane Koharu, somehow looks pissed, which you can suddenly relate to. The boy beside her, Mitokado Homura, looks more calm and composed as he adjusts his glasses on his face. 

Tobirama nods, and then he breaks off into a light jog. Obediently, the kids follow after him and you grudgingly follow behind them. They must be used to this. 

 After a few rounds, the kids start to stretch and you do the same as well, and everything has been pretty calm. You watch as the kids do sets of push-ups, sit-ups, calisthenics and you are impressed at their stamina. They’re barely twelve, but then again, if you are training under Senju Tobirama, you can tell that you will be pushed to your limit. 

You feel a pang of envy from these kids for a moment, but you push it away. There is no reason to look back into the past and feel bitter about how things worked out. 

“So what’s next, sensei?” Hiruzen inquires. You can see how much these kids admire the man. 

 “Sparring,” Tobirama replies. “Since Danzo’s here, you guys are evenly matched. Last man standing gets to fight me.” 

 “What about Y/N-sensei?” Danzo interjects. 

 “Yeah, what about me?” You smirk, and you lighten your voice so that it sounds more childish. 

You can feel Koharu rolling her eyes. 

You narrow your eyes at him and let out a small stream of breath through your mouth. “I see.” 

 Tobirama slightly raises his chin haughtily. It suits him. He does not need to speak to dominate the atmosphere. He shrugs, and it sparks something in you. 

 “I’ll still try my best,” you smirk, but underneath your facade, you are starting to get annoyed. Which is new, because you are generally a patient person. 

Tobirama takes Hiruzen and Koharu while you take the other two to coach during their matches. You stand in between Danzo and Homura, watching their small faces study each other. 

“Don’t kill each other,” you advise, and you start their match. 

 The two go at each other, with Danzo throwing the first punch. You back off a little to make sure that you can see their stances. 

 Homura whirls around and his foot juts out, with his heel aiming towards Danzo’s head. Danzo ducks down, and kicks at Homura’s stomach the moment he regains his posture from the kick. 

Homura staggers back, and now he is on the defensive, blocking Danzo’s hits and kicks, barely dodging them as he keeps backing away. You notice the hits and misses from each boy.

 “Homura, don’t back away!” You yell out. “Get closer to him!” 

Homura does as you say, and Danzo is unable to land a hit on him, limiting his movements unless–

 Danzo jumps back to get away, and kicks Homura on the chest. 

 “Nice!” You cheer. 

 “Sensei, whose side are you on?” Homura complains and his hand comes up to rub his chest. 

You laugh. “Neither!” You glance at both of their faces. “Okay, you two, come here.” 

 Danzo and Homura face each other again. 

 “Save your movements, don’t be so generous with them,” you tell them. “Don’t punch just to punch. Again!” 

The two boys come at each other and you stand back to watch them again. This time, you do not offer any more suggestions. You glance to where Tobirama is at, and he is squatting on the ground, his eyes trained on the students’ footwork. 

 You hear him call out that Hiruzen’s feet are too far apart. 

You snap back to the two boys just in time to watch Homura flip Danzo on his back. 

You walk over and you peer at Danzo. “You okay?” 

 “Yes,” the boy wheezes out. 

“Alright, you’re done,” you chuckle and you look at Homura. “You win, then. Good job. Help him up.” 

You glance at the other group, and you see Koharu sock Hiruzen straight to his face and Tobirama jump up to his feet. Hiruzen gets to his feet, and you see a trickle of blood coming out of his nose. 

When Hiruzen gets closer, you ruffle his hair affectionately and you laugh as he grimaces. 

 “Not funny!” He whines nasally. 

 “Keep your hands up next time!” You taunt even though he may already know this. 

Tobirama puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him towards a rock so that he can sit. “Sit up and lean forward,” he tells his student. 

 The rest of the kids walk towards him to watch and poke fun at Hiruzen. 

 You stay back and cross your arms to watch them. You know that there is no place for you to be there. 

 Once Tobirama is finished attending to his student, he turns to you. “Koharu, you’re the referee.” 

You size him up, your eyes travelling from his face and down to his waist. What was one of his rules again? 

 Anticipation builds in your core, and your hand rests on the scabbard of your sword, your thumb playing at the hilt. 

“Are we including tricks today?” You inquire. 

 “If you want,” Tobirama curtly replies. 

Koharu starts the fight, and Tobirama wastes no time coming at you. 

 His first hit is heavy, and you block it with both of your forearms and brace yourself by stepping back one leg. You are quick to grab his wrist as you twist your arm and you step forward, meaning to put your leg behind his, but he breaks away from you and disturbs the momentum that you were going to use against him. 

 You are quick to back away because he comes at you without stopping. 

 He is fast, and he is heavy with his hands. You notice his open hands, ready for grappling. His stance is lower, and you know that it will be hard to knock him off balance, and the effects of kicking at his head will go to his advantage. 

You need an opening. 

 You launch yourself at him, and as he prepares himself to grab you, you drop to your knees and slide in between his legs, hitting his knee as you pass him by. He turns to your direction, and you quickly use his bent knee to step and kick towards his head. He blocks you and you see him almost grab at your ankle.

 You do not give him a chance to gather himself, and you swing again at him, this time using his shoulder to propel yourself around him and using his weight and yours, you are able to lock his head with your legs. Just as you are about to go for another twist to bring him to the ground, Tobirama counters by catching you and launching you off of him. 

 “You fight like an assassin,” Tobirama says as you roll to the ground and to your feet. 

“Are you impressed?” You grin at him, half jokingly. 

 Tobirama does not answer you, but it looks like he is about to say something worse as he charges at you. 

You step closer to him so that he does not follow through his movement, and you grab the hilt of his sword and then you strike your palm at his chest to send him back. You whirl around to brandish his sword in the air. 

 What was one of his rules? You suddenly remember.

  Do not touch my things, unless I give them to you. 

For a moment, everyone freezes. 

You study the blade in your hand. 

 “This is a very nice sword,” you muse, and you strike at the air and flip it, testing the weight. You run a finger on the blunt edge of his sword. “Well-balanced and thin, but very sharp. Excellent for accurate and fast hits...and conducting lightning.”

Tobirama’s face grows stormy. His fists tighten. 

 You twist blade with a slight twist of your wrist, and you hand it with the hilt towards him. “Sorry. I was curious.” 

Tobirama takes his sword and quickly sheathes it. You note a minuscule change in his expression, but it quickly passes and you are disappointed for not being quick enough to note it. 

“So, is this a tie?” Koharu asks, uncertain. 

“Yes,” Tobirama grits through his teeth. 

You watch Tobirama’s tense shoulders and decide to leave him alone. You probably went too far today. 

“Well, that was fun, but I have to go,” you say, even though the rest of your day is pretty much free. "I have some friends to meet." 

 Tobirama suspects that you certainly do not have any friends to meet, but he does not say anything more. He’s probably eager to make you go. There is nothing he would want more. 

“Aw!” Hiruzen cries out. His nose bleed has stopped. “Thanks for coming by, sensei!” 

You wink at the kids, and you make your exit, your hand still remembering the feel of Tobirama’s sword. It is oddly familiar, and you wonder if the craftsmanship is similar to your own blade. 

You can feel Tobirama’s stare behind you and it burns the back of your neck as if he is shooting laser beams at you, and just when you glance back to regard it, he is turning away and conversing with his students about hand seals. 

Though it was just a joke and a way to catch him by surprise, you can’t help but feel that you just stomped over the thin olive branch that he was handing out to you. 

You note to yourself to make it up to him tomorrow. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER THREE >>>]

[bi-demon-ium]

i know i talk a lot about mr benedict & milligan (mostly bc 1. i think the show focuses more on the other two in that regard, although not entirely--i’m thinking a lot of the main emotional beats like the revelations about his brother, although they do have their moments obviously, 2. i simply love both them individually probably as lowkey my favorite characters and their dynamic is insane and i love it) but like. also just. like. the other adults?

like mr benedict & number two! they clearly care SO MUCH and yet also the light bickering lgkjlgkjhfghfgh she seems to be sort of a voice of reason but like--i mean they all do this, but i think her in particular, while they generally follow his lead and look to him for these things, they’re also never afraid to stand up and say what they’re thinking or disagree with him, like, he’s sort of the leader but not like. really their boss???? as much as they say shit like “resign” or “workplace disputes” it doesnt feel like a workplace literally at all. and it’s most exemplified with number two, i think, who sometimes seems like an employee/assistant but more often takes the role of like. genuinely concerned friend/family member (although unlike in the books she can’t be so easily placed into “daughter” “sister” etc., they’re all just. Family. and i mean, love that for them! although she and rhonda are definitely sisters lmao) 

rhonda and mr benedict too! like, they’re so sweet together! they’re friends sir!!! more reason i want to see them talk about her little awesome vandalism trips. but like, they’re so genuinely supportive of each other and like!! i think she has the most like. open, assertive just. confidence in him and in their mission, she consistently is like this is going to work, we made the right choice, we are helping people. and like, when they realize who the sender is, she’s trying to stay positive and cheer him up, even if she kind of puts her foot deeply in her mouth with the whole “calling his twin brother fit” (DLFGKDFG PLEASE I IWLL NEVER BE OVER THIS) and the whole “deep and festering pain” thing dlfkgjdfg but like she’s so like. stalwart and strong but it’s clear she has her own vulnerabilities too and while we mostly see her and number two deal with that (with the billboards thing and her saying this? this keeps me sane, doing something, helping people, keeps me sane, and i have to believe that this is helping people, that i’m making a difference) i have zero doubt her and mr benedict have had their own late night conversations and like. thinking about her first joining the team, the newest of the lot, mr benedict talking to her and like. being a supportive and warm presence and someone she so obviously grows to trust and fully believe in? and now she’s returning the favor, helping him when he’s at his lowest? i’m going insane i love them

and like! just the other adults interacting with each other too! like! fuck! obviously rhonda and number two is the one we see most in the show, they have their whole little arc going from a sort of rocky beginning with tension to true trust between sisters who have grown to understand each other more,,,,,,

and like. fucking. milligan and number two oh my god going insane like. when she’s patching him up (her and rhonda rush so fast to get on that too) when he gets back from retrieving the envelope and she’s like “this will hurt” and hes like “what” and shes like dab dab dab sdlfjsdkflfkgfdg and then like when he’s packing and she’s just like handing him jar after jar like okay this is to sate you on your long journey and hes like mmhm and shes like this is to quench your thirst and hes like yep slkdfjlskdjf i love them actually their interactions are gold 

and like milligan and rhonda don’t get a lot of interaction from what i remember (i’m only halfway through my rewatch forgive me if im forgetting something dlkgjdfg) but like. the little we get is like. i get the feeling they’ve definitely got like, mutual respect, even fondness, but aren’t as close (like the whole “hm. she’s been a bit sharp lately, huh?” “i prefer to remain neutral on workplace matters”) (oldest member of the team versus newest, that’s actually a really interesting thought) but like they could be my god they could be post-season 1 rhonda & milligan content PLEASE 

and then just as a group! they’re a fuckin family! they’re a family! they all take care of each other whether it’s catching mr benedict when he falls asleep or patching milligan when he gets wounded (or any of them really) or shoving food and drinks on everyone or being overprepared for everything or sleeping light and being READY for intruders to PROTECT and like just--they’re a family! fuck!  

and this isn’t onscreen but i’ll eat my goddamn hat if they don’t have like. fucking. game nights, or just. nights where they chill for a bit because they need a break (although knowing all of them they’re all like “haha i have tricked everyone else, who needs a break, into taking a break, even though i, myself, do not need a break” spoiler they all need a break) and relax a little every once in a while so they don’t get totally burned out and they can remember what exactly they’re fighting for and whether that’s reading books together quietly in the same room or reading books not so quietly and a little more literally together (out loud) or watching an old movie on a projector or listening to records or playing games (love to imagine the contrast between like one chill night--they are all reading books quietly, mr benedict fell asleep on one of their shoulder’s a while back, it’s peaceful and quiet--to another--they are all shouting and milligan is covered in a triggered glitter bomb for some reason and there are cards on the floor and it’s chaos RHONDA! HAS WON! MONOPOLY!!!! chaos) and just like..... being friends, being a family, growing closer together both in long nights working tirelessly and bringing each other tea or little things to make each other smile or game nights that are practically a go-fish fight to the death or missions going sideways that they come out of with ridiculous stories or just like. fucking. bonding! they’ve known each other for years it’s been them against the world and they clearly all trust each other--hell, even number two and rhonda, who clearly had tension had first, trusted each other, number two never questioned rhonda’s loyalty or that she might be a traitor, only if what she was doing was risky if well-meaning, like. they trust each other! they care about each other! fuck! 

anyway my point is i love them all so much

[ineedapuppyandsomevodka]

May I please request buddie promt where Buck's parents ambush him at work? the team want to know more about Buck and ask questions and the Buckley parents bad mouth him, Buck goes to the lockers or bunkers and Eddie goes after his boyfriend?

SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG!!

Buck’s parents are in town. 

That was a sentence that Buck didn’t think that he was going to ever say, anytime soon, but they are. They’re here for Maddie, mostly. She’s pregnant, so of course, they want to be in town for the birth of their grandchild. Maddie is hardly even 6 months pregnant, though, which means that they’ll probably be here for a couple of weeks, and then they’ll be back in a few months when the baby is born. 

He has dinner with them the first night that they’re in town. They’re a little overbearing, but he deals with it, mostly because he hasn’t seen them in years. Really, it’s probably been more like 5 years since he saw them in person. 

He stacked up his shifts, though, so that he wouldn’t have to see them that much. He knew that it would be better for their relationship if he only saw them a couple of times while they were here. Too much time would mean that Buck would be annoyed and probably say something that he didn’t mean. 

(Chances are, he probably would mean them. He knows that his words strike to kill sometimes, but he doesn’t want to completely ruin his relationship with his parents.)

Then, his parents show up at the station. 

No, they didn’t just show up. They ambushed him. They cornered him in a way that they knew would piss him off. Buck’s always been a hard worker, he puts his all into what he decides to do, and being a firefighter is no exception to this. 

“Evan,” his mother smiles as she comes up the stairs and into the loft of the station. “You’re father and I brought some food for you and your colleagues.” 

“Oh,” Buck says, looking over at Bobby who had been slaving over their dinner since they got back from their last call. “Um, thanks.”

“Of course,” she says with a smile. He knows it’s meant to be genuine, he does, but there is something about the look on her face that isn’t. He knows his mom too well. He knows that there is more intention behind them showing up at the station. 

His gut reaction is to just take the food and set it on the counter. If he moves them a little further into the kitchen, then they’ll see that Bobby is cooking. 

His dad immediately goes to shake Chimney’s hand, and Buck suddenly regrets not vetting any of his team that his parents might be in town. Chimney knew, of course, but everyone else was left in the dark. 

He sets down the food that his parents brought in and introduces his mother to Bobby, who wipes his hands on a towel and shakes her hand. He turns off the stove, insisting that the food he made can wait for the next shift.

“Buck has told us a lot about you,” his mom says with a smile, and Buck’s stomach turns. She was going to find some reason, any reason to make Bobby look like a bad guy. He just knew it. 

“Good things, I hope,” Bobby says with a smile. 

Buck leaves them to their conversation and shoots a glance at Eddie, who’s watching everything unfold from a distance. He doesn’t know what he wants to say or do, but he knows the second that he goes over to his boyfriend, his parents are going to want to follow. They’ll tear Eddie apart like vultures. 

Buck looks at Hen, who is busy talking with his father, and he decides to go over and make sure that everything over there is going just as it should. If his father makes any sort of mention about Hen, her name, her being a firefighter, or anything, Buck is ready to put up a fight. 

Conversations between his mother and Bobby and his father and Hen seem to be going okay, though. Nobody has their claws out, and it all seems to be fairly docile. That’s something that Buck can deal with. 

He sighs softly, then goes to set the table so that everyone can sit down and eat. They might as well eat everything while the food is hot. There’s no use for it to go to waste, especially because knowing his parents it was likely from a gourmet restaurant in the area. 

Buck smiles softly as Eddie comes to help him set the table. They don’t say anything, they just work together silently. When everything is set up the way that his Captain usually likes it, Bobby notices and calls everyone to the table... including his parents. His parents sit near him, and Eddie sits across. 

His father immediately takes interest in Eddie. 

“I don’t think I’ve met you yet,” he says with amusement. 

“No, we haven’t,” Eddie, ever the charmer says and holds out his hand. “Eddie Diaz.”

“Eddie... Is that short for Eduardo?” His father asks. 

Eddie shoots Buck an amused look and shakes his head. “No, actually, it’s short for Edmundo.”

“Interesting,” his father states, taking a bite of his food. “How long have you been a firefighter?”

“About two years, now,” he tells him, keeping things short and sweet. 

“Are you a citizen?” his father asks. 

“Dad,” Buck shoots him a look and his dad simply shrugs. 

“It’s just a question.” 

“Yeah, a wildly inappropriate question.”

“It’s not inappropriate, Evan, you’re being dramatic,” his mother chimes in, and Buck wants to roll his eyes. 

“Yes,” Eddie says, nudging Buck’s foot under the table. “I am a citizen. I moved here from Texas.”

“Texas, that’s a lovely state,” his mom adds. 

Conversation falls uncomfortably quiet and it’s all Buck can do not to wolf down all of his dinner. 

“Evan, you need to slow down. You’re going to choke.” his mom chides. 

“It’s a good thing I have three medics to save me, then,” he says, trying to turn the conversation light. 

“I don’t understand why you have to be so rude to your mother. We brought you dinner,” his dad says. 

“I’m not being rude,” Buck says with a shrug.

“You kind of are,” his dad says, taking a sip of his water. 

“Sorry,” he says, looking away. 

They soon get on to the topic of why everyone at the station wants to be a firefighter. His dad is the one who brings it up, and Buck knows that it’s a setup. His dad has never approved of him being a firefighter and has made that blatantly clear. It’s just going to take someone saying just the right thing for his parents to go off, and Buck is stiff thinking about it. 

He wonders if other members of the 118 feel this way when their parents come into town. He knows that Eddie doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents, but he also seems to enjoy having them visit from time to time. 

At the end of the day, Buck’s parents are still his parents. They still raised him. They still provided a nice life for him. They may not be the best parents in the world, but they aren’t bad people. Maybe he shouldn’t be so upset about them coming to see him at the station. Maybe they were just trying to be ni--. 

“What you all do is so dangerous,” his mother says with the shake of her head. “I never quite understood why our Evan would want to get into a profession like this.”

“With all due respect, Misses Buckley, Buck is one of the best firefighters I know,” Bobby says, looking across the table at them. 

“Well, yes, he has always strived to be the best at whatever he does. That doesn’t mean that he has to be the best firefighter, though,” his mom says, and Buck can feel his eyes roll back. 

It was going to be a long night. 

Could he call dispatch to have them send the 118 out on a call? Was that an option? He really needed that to be an option right now. 

“It takes a lot to do what we do, and your son--” 

“My son,” his mother interrupts. “He has been crushed by a firetruck, and almost died multiple times while working for you.”

“I--” Buck flounders. “Who--?”

“Maddie told us,” his dad raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t understand why we had to find out from her that you got hurt on the job,” his mom adds in. 

So this is what this was about. They were here to talk him out of his job. To tell him that his job was too dangerous. 

“A job that you don’t even have to be doing,” his dad scoffs. 

“I love being a firefighter,” Buck swallows. 

“And I love being a financial advisor, but that doesn’t have me nearly getting killed every day, does it?” His father asks. “Come on, Evan, you know that your mother and I will pay for you to finish out your degree--” 

“I don’t want to finish my degree. I’m happy.” Buck says, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“I don’t see how you could possibly be happy working in a job where you’ve spent more time injured than you have on duty.”

“I have not,” Buck says, and by now he knows full well that he’s raising his voice. “I love this job. I love the friends I have because of this job. I love everything about it, and you need to stop trying to control my life.”

“Evan,” his mom says, putting a hand on his forearm. 

“No, mom, you guys need to listen. Coming into my workplace and trying to tell me how to live my life? That’s fucked up--”

“Watch your language,” his father snaps.

“That’s screwed up,” Buck says instead. 

“What’s screwed up is that we have to find out from your sister when anything important or big happens in your life.”

“Because you guys always pass judgment on what happens in my life! You’re never happy for me, you’re never proud of me, and god forbid that I ever tell you about any of the relationships in my life because you always rip people to shreds,” he says, and he knows that everyone at the table is staring at him. He can feel his cheeks turn red, and his eyes sting. God, he just knows he probably looks like an idiot right now. 

He sighs, shaking his head as he tries to let it go. “Nothing I ever did was good enough for you,” he says, quieter this time. He pushes himself up from where he’s sitting and excuses himself from the table. 

He goes down to the locker room, sitting down on one of the benches. He huffs quietly and drops his head in his hands, trying to gather himself enough to remember that he is at work and he can’t be feeling all of this when he needs to stay focused in order to save lives. 

He feels to hands land on his shoulder and Buck snaps his head up, ready to fight whoever it is. 

“It’s just me,” Eddie says, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Buck’s forehead. “It’s just me.”

Buck sighs in relief, immediately sagging under Eddie’s grip. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Buck.”

“I-I do, though,” he presses the heel of his hand to his eye, and Eddie sits down next to him. 

“Then don’t apologize to me,” he says softly. “But I don’t think you need to apologize to your parents either.”

“It wasn’t right of me to--”

“It wasn’t right of them to talk to you like that, especially not here, Buck,” He says and pulls him into a hug. “Give yourself a break sometimes, Querido. You’re enough for us.”

“I love you,” Buck says quietly, hugging him back. 

“I love you too, Buck.”