#nah. by a new expandable hard drive. clearly.

[corvigae]

It's funny to me how The Sims 2 still showed up in the top 100 video games tags for 2023 Tumblr Year In Review. Against all odds, we're still relevant. Cockroach ass game.

#ts2 #the sims 2 #show us a broken 20 year old game we'll show you countless fixes and hours of dedicated gameplay and video essays #along with several hard drives worth of cc #i ran out of storage on my pc recently. my solution - deleting unnecessary files like the solid 5g i have of cc? #nah. by a new expandable hard drive. clearly. #personal grumblings

[forever-rogue]

A Good Man - Part 2

A/N: Part 2!! I hope you're all excited! Thank you guys for your support on the first part. And don't worry, the ugh....smut is coming soon! Thank you to @rosetophighlander​ for helping me brainstorm this part! As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: mild language...yearning....

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Fuck,” murmuring under your breath, you scratched your well loved pen roughly over the paper, willing for more ink to come out. But it was fully used; it had been growing fainter and fainter for some time, and now, mid-lecture, it had decided to be done.

Glancing up from your notes, you chanced a peek at the professor, catching his eye as you did so. Of course. There seemed to be a mildly amused expression on his face as you chucked the pen inside your bag with a huff and searched for another, managing to dig one up after a few minutes of silent struggle. 

The professor seemed to realize what was happening and appeared to slow down his lecture as you tried to catch up, almost as if he was attempting to ensure that you wouldn’t miss anything. No one else around you even seemed to be alive, starting down at their books with glazed expressions; one of the students across the room was even shamelessly sleeping. Groaning internally at them, you felt bad for him. It dense enough material to teach, and having people be this disinterested probably only made it more difficult. That just made your resolve to work even stronger. 

Uncapping the new pen, you set it back on the page and offered your full attention back to the man at the front, keeping your eyes trained mainly on the chalkboard. It was hard not to allow your eyes to flit over his body, the tight white button up, the fitted navy trousers, and those damned glasses were enough to drive you slowly insane. When he turned his back to the class, you couldn’t help but to admire the view...but luckily you always managed to catch yourself and keep up with his lecture. But you didn’t catch on how Javier always seemed to notice all the little things, including how your eyes lingered on him. You also didn’t seem to catch on how his own honeyed gaze was usually focused on you, the sole person he seemed to be teaching. 

But this class was different - just before Javier excused the lot of you, he decided to assign your midterm papers. This time you didn’t groan internally, but let out a little sigh as he explained his requirements, all of which you scribbled quickly down in your notes. It was such a simple task but you just knew it would be difficult, and would end up phasing you someway or another. Just as he finished and dismissed everyone, the students around you seemed to practically sprint for the door and you were left behind in the dust. 

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you grabbed your things and tucked them inside your bag, the realization that you were the only one left in the room hitting like you a ton of bricks. The temperature seemed to increase insurmountably as you left your desk and headed for the door. Javier’s gaze followed your frame for a moment and just before you ducked into the buzzing hallway filled with students heading off to their next class, you turned to him. His expression was unreadable, filled with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite place. Instead of saying anything, you felt your cheeks heat up and stepped out of the classroom, allowing yourself to get lost in the sea of people.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Professor Peña?"

"If you're looking for stories or secrets or whatever bullshit for your little newspaper, I'm not interested," Javi didn't even bother to look up from his desk, eyes dark and focused on the mountains of papers in front of him. When he didn't hear the sound of retreating footsteps or the squeak of the ancient door, he groaned lightly, "I said I wasn't interested in indulging your little inquiries."

"I-I'm not here for that," your voice sounded small, quiet and almost pathetic in the darkened office. The sun had almost completely set and Javier had yet to turn on the lights, depending only on his small desk lamp. He almost gave himself whiplash as he turned to look in your direction, eyes widening when he realized it was you, "I'm sorry to bother you, professor. I-I can go."

He let out a long sigh, took off his glasses, and ran a hand over his face in exhaustion as he shook his head and pointed at the chair in front of his desk. Swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you padded over, almost completely silent, before slipping into the aging leather chair, "It’s... I shouldn't have yelled like that."

"I can go...if this is a bad time,” you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes as you trained your gaze on the worn, wooden grain of his desk, “I know it’s almost the end of your office hours and I don’t want to impose.”

When you were met with silence, and unable to keep your knee from bouncing up and down, you almost jumped up and headed for the door, wishing a hole would swallow you up and this moment would never have happened. 

“It’s fine,” he insisted firmly, holding his hand up to keep you from darting out, finally looking up and meeting your nervous eyes. Nodding, you swallowed the thick lump in your throat and planted yourself firmly in your seat, “it’s been...a long day. It doesn’t excuse it...so just stay.”

“Really...I can come back another time,” you captured your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed on it for a moment, unsure of where to concentrate your gaze. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing you’d be too far gone if you started at his handsome visage too much. It was hard enough in class to focus on what he was teaching when he came in looking handsome as hell everyday. You had tried, desperately so to avoid your attraction to him, but it was undeniable. Little did you know that you had slowly turned into the highlight of his day; the three hours a week you spent in classroom had him almost...excited to show up and teach. 

“Nah,” he insisted in such a blasé tone that you almost couldn’t believe it. You’d never heard him be anything but completely serious before, “I was just being an asshole...”

“I didn’t mean to imply-” 

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, giving you a surprised expression, “it’s not you. Trust me, it’s just... people don’t...normally come to my office hours. Maybe like one student a semester. And it’s usually for...”

“Your time in Colombia,” you concluded as he paused for a moment, still as could be as he nodded lightly. Clearly you’d struck a nerve; you could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the veins in his neck protruding slightly as his hand curled into a fist and rested on the edge of the desk. In class he’d never even come close to bringing it up; hell, you’d never have known if Sarah hadn’t shown you that little article, “that’s not why I’m here. I swear.”

“Then what can I do for you?” his voice adopted a different tone, more docile and less on edge as his eyes seemed to rake over you and he could see you were being honest. You wrung your hands anxiously in your lap before pulling your notebook, and looking through your copious, detailed notes from his last lecture. Javi couldn’t help but try and skim over him as you dragged a finger down a page and stopped with a small triumphant little sound when you found what you had been searching for. He was impressed that you, or anyone, actually took the time and energy to listen to him.

“Your assignment,” you glanced over the notes and frowned at them, “you asked us to submit a proposal for a midterm paper topic, and you left it pretty open ended, but we’ve only covered up until about 1750. Does that mean we can do any major topic up to then or can we do anything? Do you have a preferred area of discussion? Or do you prefer we focus on a figure and analyze their viewpoints towards specific topics? I guess...I’m just looking for some guidance. I don’t want to do something and have it be off the mark and waste your time...or mine.”

“You...took the time to think about this and then come and ask me?” he sounded astounded as you slowly nodded, offering him a slight shrug of your shoulders. You hadn’t thought it was that weird...you just wanted to be sure about things, “huh. Do you actually like this class?”

“Professor...” you didn’t want to lie, not directly to his face as you sat in front of him, “it’s...”

“Just be straight forward,” he leaned back in his chair, playing with the pen in his hand as you let out a low breath, “I don’t care either way.”

“How honest do you want?” a small smile tugged on your features despite your best efforts to keep it at bay.

“Brutal.”

“I hate it,” you felt like you were confessing your sins in church, unsure of what to expect his reaction to be. What if this had all been some sort of weird test...what if he suddenly hated you? But he remained silent, waiting for you to expand on your answer, “it’s a subject I do not care for, and I only took it because it satisfied one of the last subject areas I needed and everything else was already filled up.”

But then, in a total change of pace, shocking you almost as much as it surprised him, he burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back as his warm, rich voice filled the small, dark space of his office. Your eyes widened as you tried not to focus on his smile and his glorious neck as you wondered if he was was going to commend or condemn you. 

“That was the most honest I think I’ve ever had someone be with me,” he answered once he calmed down, his shoulders still bouncing lightly with silent laughter, “the honesty...it’s quite refreshing.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” fumbling for the right words, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for your notebook, attempting to hastily stuff it into your bag and fun out of the room. But Javi reached over and grabbed one of your wrists with a touch that was both firm, but delicate enough to cause you to almost break your neck as you looked at him, “professor?”

“I’m not offended,” he promised, letting his hold on you linger a few moments before slowly releasing your wrist. He gestured for the notebook and you handed it over to him, nervous as to what he would say about your notes. Would you be in trouble? Would he be impressed? He was silent as he flicked through everything, his fingers touching over all the areas your pen had scribbled on, “these are extremely detailed and thorough for someone that apparently hates the subject.”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. There’s a lot to remember and take in,” you felt nervous as he scoured over your writing and read some rushed words under his breath, “I-I figured if I was going to take this class, regardless if I enjoy it or not, I should put in the time and effort. It’s not fair to you to just completely waste your time either.”

“Tell that to rest of the hundred and something students I have. They couldn’t give a shit less,” he suddenly snapped your notebook closed, the sharp sound reverberating loudly in the otherwise quiet room. Shoving the worn notebook across the desk, he let out a sigh before tousling his dark hair as you shoved it away. Something had struck a nerve with him and you were nervous, unsure of how he was going to respond to whatever you had to see. So the inattention and lack of care from the rest of the class was not lost on him, “it’s like teaching to an empty room.”

“And you?” a rush of courage and rushed through your bones and you were almost surprised that the words came out of your own mouth. Your hand flew to your face in shock and you were sure that must have gotten on his bad side now. Surely he wouldn’t tolerate that much insolence, if you could even call it that. Something in you snapped and you decided that if you were already on his list in red and underlined, you had nothing left to lose, “do you care?”

His lips turned into a thin, hard line, and he tapped his fingers against his stubble covered chin as he watched you closely. It was a weird thing, and you could feel him trying to analyze you. You refused to meet his eyes, not wanting to give in and let him see deep into you; maybe he wouldn’t like what he found. 

After a view moments of tense silence, he leaned back in his old chair, and it creaked loudly, the only disturbance in the still air. He dropped his fist back down and tapped it against the desk for a moment before quietly saying, “not as much as I should.”

“Oh,” you nodded, unable to blame him for teaching a class he didn’t really care about, “then why...never mind. I don’t mean to pry.”

 You stole a glance at your watch and noticed that it was now past his office hours; that was good enough of a reason for you to leave, right? You cleared your throat and quickly stood up before he could make any move to stop you, “your hours are over...I’ll just...go.”

“Wait-” he stood up but made no move to follow you, but keep his gaze on you. You paused with your hand on the door knob, not quite twisting it open yet as waited for him to speak. The tension in the air was palpable and you answered with a small nod, “I...we...how about you come back tomorrow? Or whatever day works and I can help you pick a subject for your midterm?”

“Y-you want me to come back?” there was a light shake to your voice as you realized what this meant. However he felt towards you, he didn’t completely dispose you anyways. Turning on your heel, you languidly raked your eyes up to meet his, finding him with his hands on his hips and an unreadable expression etched on his face, “you don’t have to, Professor. I’m sure I can find a topic to write on.”

“Javi,” his name rolled off his lips in an unsure tone and the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile. He’d never offered is first name to a student before - he’d never even spoken this much to a student before. This was all uncharted territory for the both of you; normally you were steadfast and sure in your way, but this had you questioning a lot. Including where you truly stood with your enigma of a professor, “you can call me Javi.”

“Javi,” you repeated, sounding it out slowly and deciding that you liked how it sounded, how felt when you said it. Javi Peña. It was a good name. Despite it being his decision to tell you to call him that, he still seemed...confused. But as soon as he had told you his name, soft and gentle, you had made up your mind, “I’ll...be back tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” he repeated quietly as you turned back to the door and turned the knob and slowly opened the heavy wooden door. You stepped out of his office and into the softly illuminated hallway. There was a few seconds were you contemplated turning around and offering him a wave, a proper goodbye, something, but instead, you clutched your book bag tighter and quickly took off down the hall, your heart racing as though you had just run a marathon. In sync with each footstep all you could think was Javi, Javi, Javi. 

Every last logical part of your brain told you not to return tomorrow, to just pick a topic and write a paper on it, but the other part of you, your more heart governed side, insisted that you should go back tomorrow. It told that there was something...more that you needed than help on your paper. You weren’t sure what it was, but you decided not to repress the feeling. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Why do you look so...happy?” Sarah looked up from the show she was watching and studied you for about five seconds before coming to the conclusion that something was definitely off. Not...in a bad way, but definitely different from what you would normally come home like after a day of back to back classes. Making it a point to put a frown on your face you shook your head as you dropped your book bag down and flopped onto the couch, pointedly avoiding her gaze, “babeeeeee. What happened? Did you get laid?”

“Sarah!” you burrowed further down on the couch and hid your face, “nothing happened and no, I did not get laid.”

“Then what is it?” she wasn’t about to drop the subject and you found yourself cursing her inquisitive nature, “did something happen in class? With hot professor!?”

“Absolutely nothing happened with him in class,” you insisted, your voice cracking lightly on the last word as she inhaled sharply. Peeking at her, you saw that she was almost bouncing out of her seat with excitement, “just because he’s hot-”

“You said nothing happened in class,” she came over and sat right next to you, patting your thigh in excitement, “then tell me, what happened after class?!”

“I went to his office during his office hours because I was stuck on the assignment,” you admitted, “at first he was annoyed...but then he wasn’t. He thought I just want to poke around about when he was in DEA, but I told him I just needed help. He was fine after that...mostly. I’m going back for help to tomorrow.”

“Shit,” her brilliant sapphire eyes were wide with excitement as her mind jumped to all sorts of conclusions, “office hours with hot Professor Peña!?”

“Javi,” you mumbled, barely audible to your own ears. Sarah sucked in a breath before letting out a squeal of excitement; she was even more invested in your little back and forth with him than you were. But every time you’d told her about your classes over the last six weeks, she was insistent, almost to a fault, that he felt something for you, that no teacher was like that with their students. You were sure it was just because you appeared to be the only living being in his class. 

“Javi,” she repeated in a dreamy voice, “that even sounds sexy.”

“He told me to call him that,” your face was hot and suddenly the thing sweater you were wearing seemed too much, and you quickly pulled it off in a vain attempt to still the warmth that was coursing through your veins, “it got late and I left...he asked me to come back tomorrow.”

“He asked?” you nodded as you bit your lip, realizing how it appeared to sound when you recanted the tale back to her. But if she had been there, she surely would have realized that it was all straight forward and there were no double entendres or anything. it was just professional; a professor helping his student, “hot professor asked you to come back tomorrow?”

“For help with my paper!” you groaned and hid your face in your hands, “that’s all and nothing more, I swear.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head fervently, sienna curls bouncing wildly, “there’s something more to this than meets the eye. I swear it, I can feel it. A professor doesn’t just tell you to call them by their nickname and insist you come back without an underlying motive.”

“It’s not...like that,” a heavy sigh escaped your lips, “he’s...different. I mean, sure he seems to hate life when he’s teaching, but I think he just wants to help. I think he felt bad for snapping at me at first...and maybe he wants to help because I’m the only one who gives a damn about his class.”

“That maybe so,” she agreed, giving your shoulder a light squeeze, “but there’s more to it. I’m sure of it, mark my words!”

“Sure Sarah,” tossing your head back on the couch, you stared at the ceiling and studied the patterns of the aging paint, “I’m sure something will happen between me and Javi.”

“Ahh! See you’re already calling him Javi!”

“PROFESSOR PEÑA!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you woke up the next morning, you slowly got ready for your classes, your heart beating wildly, quicker than the wings of a fluttering humming bird, as you realized what was to come this afternoon. You were sure that your nerves were for naught, but it still didn’t calm the wild fluttering going in your belly. Just before leaving, you checked yourself over in your mirror, deciding you were satisfied with your appearance. There was bright glow on your cheeks, prompting you to chide yourself for acting like a school girl with a crush instead of a groan woman.

But the day seemed to drag on, and on, and on, and by the time you headed out of your last class, you were tempted to go just go home and take a nap. Maybe that would have been better instead of going to Javi’s office and letting whatever would happen happen.

You were almost on autopilot as you entered the history department’s building, not thinking much of anything, besides not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the mysterious professor. Before you knew it, you knocked softly on his door, but when you were met with silence, you rested your hand on the knob, wondering what was going what you should do. Maybe you hadn’t been loud enough? Knocking with more force this time, you waited with baited breath to see if he would let you in....but nothing. 

Sighing lightly to yourself, especially at the fact that you had gotten yourself so worked up over nothing, you hung your head and got ready to leave. You might as well disappear quickly before anyone could see the pathetic look on your face. You’d meandered about halfway down the hall, when you heard a pair of rushed footsteps behind you, and a rich voice called out your name. Spinning around, probably much too eagerly, you find Javier right standing out of his door, breathless as he waved you over. 

“I-I’m sorry I’m late,” he said as you slowly made your back down the hall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, “I was running behind and had to stop home to check on Stevie.”

“Stevie?”

“My dog,” he answered and your mouth curved upwards into a smile. He had a dog named Stevie; it wasn’t at all what you had expected, “I usually go earlier, but had a meeting that ran late and couldn’t get to him. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“No,” you answered in earnest, “I-I just...didn’t know if you’d forgotten or were busy or....”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he insisted as he opened the door to his office and ushered you inside, following closely behind, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating onto yours. You remained silent as you slipped into the chair opposite his desk and pulled out a fresh pen and notepad, ready to take notes and figure out what on earth to do for your midterm, “all business, huh?”

He seemed mildly amused as he slinked into his own chair, more relaxed and calm than he had been the afternoon before. You lifted your eyes slowly and met his gaze as you nodded and shrugged; you wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating. Something in the air was different today...much more palpable than before. You wondered how long much longer you would walk on this thin line before it snapped and something happened. 

“Yeah,” you managed to say after a few moments of silence, his dark eyes never leaving your frame. Even with the silence, only the sound of the aging clock on the wall filling the room, you could sense that he was mulling over things in his mind. You could practically hear the gears turning, “I-I manged to come up with a few figures and events I might focus on, should any of them pique your interest.”

“I do like having my curiosity piqued,” there was a different tone to his voice and you could sense that there was bit of a double meaning to his words. But you didn’t want to get too lost in that, to let your mind wander, “tell me what you’ve come up with.”

“My main ideas are either Patrick Henry,” you looked up briefly to see if he was even interested and he nodded lightly, “or the Boston Tea Party. I know we technically haven’t covered that in class yet, but I figured I could give it a go.”

“Common topics,” he stated and you hung your head in annoyance; you thought that one of the two would be worthy of your time. He seemed to sense your dissatisfaction at his answers and shifted in his seat so he was leaning closer across his desk, and almost directly in front of you, “but I think you could make one them of them work. Give me liberty or give me death, or dumping tons of tea. Which do you prefer?”

“An overly dramatic statement or a waste of good tea,” you mused thoughtfully, tapping your pen against your chin, “I’m more disappointed in the loss of the tea. I’m thinking if I do enough digging I can focus on a few figures behind it all, lesser known figures or...something like that.”

“Well there you go,” without thinking, he reached over and grabbed your pen, earning a small sound of surprise from you. Pulling the notebook in front of him, he quickly scrawled your proposed topic down and next to that a big approved along with his signature. You couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out of your mouth at his sudden burst of playfulness; you weren’t sure he had that kind of joking in him, “I look forward to reading to your paper. I’m sure it’ll be the best one in the class.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“You’re the only one in class with a fucking pulse,” he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, the picture of cool, calm, and collected. You tried not to let your eyes linger on how deliciously his crisp white button stretched across his chest, “I’ll probably get another forty papers on George Washington.”

“I do not envy you in the slightest then...Javi,” unsure if you were okay to his name you let it linger in the air slightly as he gave you a small smile, “I’ll try and make sure it’s not a complete mess then.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” he insisted, and suddenly you were unsure if you should just leave or stay. There really wasn’t any more reason to stay, now that you had figured out your topic...not that you apparently needed any help at all. Maybe you both just...wanted to be there. Drumming your fingers along the arm of the chair, you came to the conclusion that it was probably best to go. But before you could do or say anything else, he quickly asked, “do you like tea?”

“I do,” you grinned at his random question, “maybe even more than coffee.There’s nothing better than a good cup of tea at the end of the evening, especially now that’s turning to winter. Although I’m guessing you prefer coffee?”

“Lucky guess,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, but the amusement on his face was still there.

“No,” you giggled lightly, “I’m just not blind - I’ve never seen you without a cup of coffee near you. Except today.”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” he liked this; how easily you were able to tease him, how naturally you eased into conversation, despite the initial nerves, “what’s your favorite kind?”

“I dunno...I guess anything really,” you wondered why he was so curious, if he was just trying to be polite or he actually wanted you to stay there and speak to him, “I’ve really been liking matcha a lot.”

“Hmm,” he dragged his hand over his mustache and you couldn’t help but notice, as you had several times in the past, that there was no wedding ring, no suggestion that he’d ever worn one. Somehow it eased you ever so slightly, “sounds...interesting.”

“It’s really good,” you promised, “you should try it sometime. Well...thanks for all your help professor, I really appreciate it. Knowing I won’t be totally off the mark with this paper has made me feel better already.”

“Maybe I will,” he nodded as you slowly gathered your things and stood up, “anytime you need help, just let me know...”

“Thank you,” you heard him hastily grab a pen and then jot something down. The sound captured your attention and you turned around to see that he had piece of paper in his hand and was holding it out to you. Hesitating ever so slightly, you took it, your mouth gaping when you realized what it was, “professor...I don’t...”

“Javi,” he corrected firmly and you could barely keep yourself from combusting, “if you need any more help, at all, call me.”

“Y-yes,” your voice was a small, faltering little thing as you pocketed his phone number. Had your hot professor actually given you his phone number? The piece of paper burning a hole in your pocket firmly screamed yes, “thank you.”

Turning to leave again, he said your name softly, before you could step out of his office. Biting your lip, you turned around and found him with his hands on his hips, some sort of debate clearly raging inside from the look on his face, “are you...what are you...are you busy this weekend?”

“Umm,” clearly you needed to get your hearing check because there was no way in hell that Javier Peña, your professor, had just inquired about your weekend plans. Surely he just wanted to make sure you were dedicating your time to his assignment...right? There would be no good reason, no logical explanation for anything else, “I suppose I am. I’ve that paper to write, and some other assignments I’m trying to get a jump on.”

“R-right,” he ran his hand through his dark locks and let out a long breath, “good luck. See you in class.”

“Have a good weekend, Javi,” you offered him a small smile before stepping out and closing the door behind you. Your heart was hammering away and you could barely think straight before practically sprinting down the hallway. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and while a part of you was nervous, the majority was flushed with sheer excitement.

Once he no longer heard the sound of your feet retreating on the linoleum tile, Javi looked the door and leaned against, letting out a long groan as he realized what he had just done, “fuck. Fuck!”

He couldn’t believe that he had just willed up the audacity to all but throw himself at you. He felt like a fool, like an old fool, with remnants of his former self slowly bubbling up. But no - he wasn’t that man anymore. He was no longer taking his emotions out by aimlessly fucking women. He was older, albeit slightly, but more collected, more...of the version of him that he liked. But this? Giving his number to a student and basically asking her out? That hadn’t been part of the plan at all. 

What if you didn’t feel the same way in the slightest? What if you were just actually being nice and wanted to succeed in his class? What if he’d made you uncomfortable? Surely he’d crossed just about every professional boundary he could think of...something not foreign to him by any means, but he just hadn’t planned on it happening anymore. Not like this.

But - you hadn’t spurned his advances, hadn’t turned him away, and you’d accepted his offer of coming back. Maybe he wasn’t reading the room wrong at all...maybe he wasn’t off the mark. But at the end of the day you were the student and he was the professor...it was wrong...but not really. Not if you were both consenting adults after all.

Shaking his head to himself, he slammed his fist against the frosted glass and willed himself to pull himself together. He couldn’t be going around like this, feeling like a teenager with a crush on a pretty girl. No - he had to be Professor Peña...a good man who only made the right decisions. 

But then...why was this so hard?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier felt lost...almost awkwardly out of place as he browsed the small aisles of the tea shop. He was not a large man any means, but he felt like a bull in a china shop as he looked at the all small colorful boxes, teas, and goods. Squinting and furrowing his brow as he pulled out his glasses, he sighed when he could finally read the small lettering clearly. 

“Do you need any help finding anything?” the shrill voice was enough to have him startled and almost drop the tin in his hands. Recovering quickly, he was about to shake his head and tell her no, but he knew he was lost as could be. Instead he slowly set the tin back down and nodded, “what are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure, honestly,” he admitted, having no clue as what to you liked besides this so called matcha. He should have investigated further somehow...but that felt like it would be too obvious, instead he opted to go in blind, just like he had with so many things in the past, “I know I’m looking for some matcha and then if you have any suggestions or recommendations...”

“Shopping for yourself?” she asked and he cringed internally - he wasn’t about to spill everything to this sales woman. Oh yeah, some for myself and then some for student I seem to really like.

“More or less,” that was as much as he was willing to offer, “just giving this tea thing a try.”

“Well, I can assure you, we have some of the finest teas around,” she grabbed his arm and started leading him to a different section of the store. Javi could hardly keep up at the sudden jerk and let himself be dragged like a rag doll, “there are several types of match here, ceremonial and culinary grades. There’s also a ton of different blends, so you can try out whatever kind of flavors you like. Do you like peach?”

“I love peach,” he narrowed his eyes as he read between the lines of her statement. She was either oblivious or brash, but she offered him a flirtatious smile anyway, “I like berries most of all...”

“Well, we’ve got all the finest fruit and herbal teas in all of Texas,” she insisted, “to suit whatever your needs are.

“It’s...ugh, the matcha is for me, the rest is a gift,” he finally admitted hoping that would throw her off the scent. She was attractive, in the most conventional sense, a bottle blonde with a dazzling smile and ruby red lips that most men would adore. In another life, at another time, he might have even pursued her, spent the evening with her to quiet the demons in his mind. But now? Surprisingly...he couldn’t care less, and honestly hoped she would take the hint and leave him, “so I’m looking for...maybe a random assortment? Less common teas?”

“Wife? Girlfriend? Coworker?” Javi fought hard not to roll his eyes at her inquisition, but instead offered up a saccharine smile of his own as he shook his head. She perked up slightly at the revelation, “so...just a gift?”

“Yes, she’s...special,” he didn’t know how else to describe but it bottle blond finally understood what he meant and nodded, “so I just...want to get her something she’ll like. She’s the one that told me about the matcha.”

“Sounds like she has good taste,” her response was a little more curt this time, as she came to the conclusion that Javier was decidedly not interested in her and was unlikely to make a move. Pointedly to the back of the store, she didn’t even bother to feign enthusiasm, “that area has all the more specialty teas and less common finds. You should be able to find something there. Let me know if you have other questions.”

Turning on her heel she left him again, and Javi couldn’t help but smirk lightly to himself at her annoyance. He thumbed through the various boxes, tins, and packages of matcha, wondering what you would pick out. Reading the descriptions was no help, but eventually he settled on something basic to try. He figured that was a good place to start. 

But before he left the tea shop, one he’d meandered into Austin to find, after hearing from several people that it was the best, he made his way to the back of the shop and spent probably more time than necessary browsing their selection. He hoped you would like it...that it would be worth it. Something in his gut told him to do it, and he worked to drown out that inner little demon that told him what he was doing was wrong.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Butterflies were fluttering wildly in your stomach as you walked into class on Monday afternoon, unsure of what to expect. Would Javi be the same as always? Almost bored and tired? Or would he have some sort of renewed sense of vigor? 

You’d thought about calling him all weekend, pretending that you needed some sort of help, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you’d kept his number pinned to the cork-board in your room. Your eyes had wandered over to it on numerous occasions, but something held you back. You knew it wasn’t wrong...not inherently anyway, but you just couldn’t do it. Maybe you could see how today went and go from there....yes, today would be telling. 

But when you arrived at your seat, your eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared into your hairline. Sitting on the desk you always occupied was a neatly wrapped bundle of tea boxes, topped with a large bow. You could see that it was several different varieties, all unusual, but somehow picked out with care. A face splitting grin appeared on your face as you picked it up and clutched to your chest, the faint smell of the teas hitting your nose. 

You turned around and let your eyes wander to the front of the room where you spied Javi setting out his notes for the day on his lecture. Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, he looked up and offered you the best smile you ever seen. He had dimples...you never would have know before. You already loved them. 

You pointed at the bundle in your arms and mouthed a silent you? to which you were sure a flush of color rose up in his golden cheeks. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before giving you a singular nod before turning his efforts back to his notes. You slipped into your seat and put the present into your bag, making sure not to crush any of the boxes. A weird sense of warmth settled within you as you listened to him begin. 

You always knew that he kept his gaze trained in your direction when he taught, but something was different today. It was almost as if he was teaching, but only to you, his dark eyes almost never wavering from yours. You wanted to take diligent notes, truly you did, but there was something magnetic about him, and just couldn’t look away. Instead it was almost two hours if you making eyes at your Professor. Shameless, you thought to yourself, but so is he. 

Maybe you hadn’t been reading the signs wrong after all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos   @rogerfxckingtaylor  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula @spacedustmazzello  @queenlover05  @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @el-lizzie  @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy  @gooddaykate  @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @24kgolden  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @pedrosdoll  @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial​ @hail-doodles​

AGM Taglist: @misslolasworld  @mrsparknuts  @siempre-pedro​  @domino-oh-damn​  @weasleywinchester​  @wickedfrsgrl​

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #reader insert #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #a good man

[lawfulpride]

Back by popular demand! A conversation between Davos and Thor, Part II.  Thor played by @honourablebravery.

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Thor, never the best at 'reading a room', is not foolish enough to be entirely oblivious. Good at this? Nah, probably not. Oblivious? Not so. The slight crease in his brow furrows further and further inward, before he moves to seat himself beside Davos-keeping a good forearm of space between them so Davos doesn't feel crowded in. "Well, you scarcely know me now, generally I have learned that speaking with someone on friendly terms can change that." They clearly have some sort of shared ground, and Davos seems to burn with the need to speak. Perhaps as Loki, he's forever been unheard Thor thinks, a pin-prick of bitterness touching his heart. "Is it something that you would wish to discuss? I am no wordsmith, but I have a gentle ear, and the ability for pragmatism."

Hopeful07/25/2020

"It's . . .. . " Davos ducks his head. He's been working on this: hard.  But revelations of his personal struggles remain shameful terrain he was trained for 28 solid years to keep to himself.  "It's. Not." He sighs, and looks up.  "It's not seemly.  For someone like me.  I am. I am still learning that I have the right to be." He blinks. "Well. Human."

He gives Thor a long look. " . . . the person I put all my faith and trust in was my brother.  When we turned 28, we were the two final contestants, out of all the monks in our temple, to go to trial for the most prestigious title--and responsibility--of my homeland.  I was winning.  Winning, but I couldn't kill him, even though that was the custom, so I begged him to yield. He was losing badly, but he still wouldn't listen to me, he kept fighting.  And I kept winning.  And then the light passed over the windows of the temple, and blinded me for but a moment. And Danny . . . his name is Danny, Danny Rand . . . .you've surely heard of him, he is as rich and at least half as famous as Mr. Stark . . . . he took the advantage and disarmed me, and won."

"In that one moment everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever dreamt of becoming, was gone." He grinds his jaw. "But I was still willing to stand by his side as he took the Iron Fist . . . .the title and the duty of which I spoke.  And he thanked me by abandoning us. Abandoning me."

"Coming back here. To play white Kung Fu hero to a city full of reprobates."

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Something about Davos not even being 30 yet both startles and alarms, Thor's brow knitting continually, until it's nearly a flattened line of scrunch. "Siblings are not forged in blood alone, family is family, a lack of a blood bond means little when the pain is so true, the experiences so raw, and the moments so introspective, sharp and clear. Birth right can only account for so much, it's what we know and experience that makes a relationship. This man, Danny, he is your brother, in the truest of it's definition. And you have bene hurt, both by his betrayal and abandonment, and by he effectively sneering in the face of your love and accomplishments." Thor blinks, seemingly startled by how much he's said. "Of course..I can only know this from an outsiders view' He says, quickly. Aware that-regardless of what Davos currently describes, he'd probably not appreciate Thor actually insulting the man. He knew that feeling all too well. "Davos..if I may..what is it you wish to ask him? Can it even be quantified in singular statements? What drives you now?" He saw Davos was indeed human, but he keeps this quiet, not sure how this moral complex is for the other, or what about it disturbs him so. He hasn't enough information yet for that.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos folds his arms across his chest.  As he is wont to do, he listens closely to Thor's ruminating.  The god clearly speaks from experience.  "Of course." He looks up suddenly, eyes bright with a different kind of light, one not altogether gentle.  "Your brother is the sorcerer who attacked this city in 2012."   He would love to do battle with such a formidable creature, but he also knows that to say or even think such a thing toward this good man's beloved family member is unkind.  " . . . . as for your question, I don't. I don't know."

"I cannot imagine what I would say."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

There is anger there. Thor can sense it. What he cannot discern is it's direction, and he is not about to make the situation escalate by asking. He feels pain, but he doesn't know quite why he feels pain. For a moment, he wishes he understood people, emotions, nuances better. He tries, and he hopes that is something. "Yes,  Loki attacked New York here..in 2012..he was..unwell..very very unwell, that is not..I wish to not make it sound as if I'm excusing him, but much has come to light, since that moment." He chuckles, fondly, almost, reaching for his ice coffee. "You know.' Having a small sip. "It's entirely possible you won't know until you are within five inches of Danny's face that you'll know exactly what you wish to say"

Hopeful07/26/2020

"it might be unwise for me to ever see him again." Davos looks down at his right fist. He flexes it, over and over, slowly, as though something there is missing: the hand that, briefly, held the Iron Fist, when for a time he stole it from Danny.  A twitch of muscles, that meditates on what might have been. "I have spent many months rebalancing my chi, recovering my self-control and my....clarity...in knowing right from wrong.  Seeing Danny makes me violent and irrational."

"...it did not used to."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

Thor nods, slow, steady, and hopefully with understanding. "Unwise..yes, but are you settled?" He asks, "If you think that it would be possible to never see him, to never have that moment again and carry out your life with something else on your mind, could you do so? I would never advise anything that could hurt you, but I only ask, does it feel wise to you?" He continues, a little quickly. "You seem a man whom carries burdens like brands, Davos. A man who will always feel the burn of things that fester, that he believes wrong, because not having the resolution to something you believed in so deeply..I don't know if you'd be content, letting it go..because to you, it'll always feel like some slow moving knife taking pieces from your spine until someone yanks it back out." He could be wrong, and he truly has little clue where this babbling he speaks comes from..maybe Davos had a way of making everyone more introspective.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos sets his jaw.  He stands, and moves to the door.  But he pauses, and turns. His hand tightens into a fist at his side. He turns it and examines his palm. And he returns to the couch, and sinks back onto it.  "You are right."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

He worries for a brief moment if he's said something upsetting, but then Davos just..sits back down. "I cannot speak for you, nor your best interests, Davos..but..I do..I cannot say I do not worry. Your energy is very..intense"

Hopeful07/27/2020

The Steel Serpent looks at the Thunder God in his gauging, serious way.  "I was born to protect, and I must find something to protect, or I will run mad."  It's a confession, a tacit agreement.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Something to protect. It seems there could be a double meaning to that..but it feels..rude to ask. He's not sure how to respond, precisely. "What about protecting yourself..and what you believe in? It may..I feel that there are causes, things you sympathize with, perhaps, if devotion is what drives you..looking somewhere to it?"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"That is why I am a shifu at several training centers now."  He rubs a palm down the back of his scalp, and inclines his head toward Thor in a single nod. "That is what I seek.  Truth to my purpose.  To be devout, to the people who need to learn to protect themselves. Some of them are children. Some women battered by the pigs who have abused the sanctity of marriage. Some teenagers."

"It's only...Can you miss the person who abandoned and betrayed you? I fear that is my dilemma.  Yet I don't trust myself to speak to him without reverting to shameful ways."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Norns, what a loaded question. And such a question does not have a simple response-it cannot, at the heart, have any response not loaded and situation-based. He decides to hone in on the most simplistic part of the question (or what Thor thinks is the most simple) "Yes, I think you can' He says, gently, 'But you and I both know there is more to it than that..is there not?" The set up is a clear opening I can expand upon this should you desire it. You are safe in my company.

Hopeful07/27/2020

"Please explain."  Davos takes the opening, finally sipping his nearly forgotten tea.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"Betrayal..is not a black and white issue, and it of course, determines on the type of betrayal." He's hesitating, but it's clearly in result of thinking how best to word what he desires to bring to the table here. "And how badly you are hurt by said betrayal. I think that, if one is to look for forgiveness after a betrayal has occurred, then context is utterly crucial."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I don't want forgiveness, I want him to beg it! And I want to still tell him to go to hell!" Davos speaks ferociously but his whole body tightens, trying to regulate the emotions he keeps too constantly locked up in the dark.  "I want him to have never left, I want us to be home! I would have gladly yielded him the honor he was bestowed if he had just taken it seriously!"

A long pause and he draws out a shaky exhale. "Forgive me, I should not have raised my voice."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's first instinct is to reach out, he's tactile, after all. But he doesn't have consent and he's not sure what a man like Davos thinks of such things. Knowing full well some individuals hated touch. His fingers flex against his own leg, a slight inward curl, "Anger is not always something shameful" He points out, gently, "Sometimes it is good to let it out..lest it consumes us." Unless Davos believed anger a shameful thing, "You are not..." No He puzzles, then tries again, "This is a safe haven, Davos"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"A weapon does not know anger." The words are hollow and come from a dead place behind Davos's now shuttered and lightless eyes.  "A weapon does not indulge in emotions.  It is dangerous.  I do not think you unsafe. On the contrary, you are .....you are quite kind."

"I want him to have valued me...as much as I valued him." That's the root of it all. That's the bottom line.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"You're a human first, Davos" He lets that sit, a moment. 'I was not always good...maybe this is why I make such an effort now..maybe I always had goodness inside, but could never access it..or..something." Words are not his strong suit. "You know the truth that you cannot force him to value you...Davos, it hurts..but Danny's blindness is not because of you, but him, and whatever has completely clouded his mind, his vision, his everything."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos bites his tongue halfway to saying "I know that!" because. Does he? Intellectually, perhaps, but not in his heart of hearts. "I have never been exposed to what...the Western world, I believe, refers to as 'positive reinforcement,' but I shall attempt to believe your words are true."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"In truth..I do not quite grasp that concept either. My..my father's belief to me..was that..as long as you did what he claimed was 'good' then..it meant something. But it had to align with his personal visions. Order, regulation, he saw the future, did he? Maybe he claimed such, not sure...but I was so brash, so arrogant. And after years of encouragement from him to be so, he tells me no, it is too much, humble yourself..and I do..but it still did not align with his beliefs" "Loki suffered worse for it. He saw right through him at points..he always was to clever.."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos lifts his head from where it's been resting, in his hands, and studies Thor perceptively.  "My parents are like your father.  It's exhausting. I'm very sorry. The price of being the model pupil, always, is steep.  But I succeeded often in being what my mother and father...mostly my mother, demanded. It was just that it was never quite enough.  I could always be more perfect. And when I was not, I did not exist."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"And I, to you, I am sorry..but if I may?" He has no idea how to preface it, simply launching himself head-long into words and hoping it sticks "I have learned, and I cannot claim this to be universal, these parents of ours..they have ideas, they want things accomplished. My father wanted a King, and he molded me to be just that, but when I started to eek from his mold, he punished me. He had two sons..well, Loki is Loki, but we grew up..side by side..and he made it seem as if the throne was allowed to both of us, but he deliberately kept the truth at bay. I was to take the throne, Loki not, and in his eyes we both failed because of what? Because HE couldn't be arsed to communicate openly? Because he treated fatherhood like putting pieces into a puzzle? Adding sealant to a sculpture? How can we do wrong or right when to him, sharing his thoughts was not..we were never worthy of his true voice, only spiels I have to wonder were rehearsed, he even banished our sister and told NOBODY." Now Thor is raging, that tell-tale fiery personality that still lingers beneath the surface, even to this day, rising like an encroaching flame. "She was too powerful..for him..' he scoffs, 'Imagine.." Lies, lies, deceit. Half truths. "Davos, we..we could never live up to what our parents desire, because their desires are not tangible, they are unrealistic, they always were. To the offspring are a means to an end, a continuation in a storyline they've crafted and could never finish, because we have agency. If they wanted someone to carry out legacies, whatever, to their exact specifications, make models, or something, do not expect that people with brains and feelings and hearts are blank slates waiting to be guided about like dogs!"

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos watches Thor storm around his own lodgings, his inspirational words turning into a blaze of still unresolved emotions.  The Kung Fu master blinks slowly once. He then smiles, a small soft smile, almost modest in nature. This is so familiar. Danny has a temper like this, too.  Danny likes to rail against injustices, too, albeit a bit more sanctimoniously than this Thor fellow does.

Something about it is as comforting as the commiseration, the empathy, within the words themselves. He stands and walks over to the ranting god, and lays a hand on his bicep. "Are you alright?" he asks, and it's clear he actually cares. Davos isn't much of a deceiver.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

The touch does not startle him, it is both welcome and relieving. "..Are you?" He asks, quietly. "I.." He chuckles, 'I am a Thunder God for a reason, it appears." Aware that the moment is radiating tension, but comfort in the same shared space. 'Our lives seem oddly similar, Davos, in some ways."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I am, in fact."  Davos huffs a laugh through his nose, and nods. "Perhaps we are."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's grin turns downright radiant, pleased with the good discussion, moving to turn himself more fully, his own wide-palmed hand loosely grasping  Davos's shoulder. "I am glad, to have given you some chance to alleviate some burdens, and I would be honoured to have you as a friend."

HopefulToday at 2:17 PM

Davos reddens.  Particularly his cheeks and ears.  They aren't especially large ears, but with his shaved head, they become prominent.  He could face down any foe with his fists, and with his keen wits, he could navigate nearly any delicate intellectual scenario as well. But being told by a friendly behemoth that he wants to be his friend, that it would be his honor? That's intimidating to someone trained to disregard emotional attachments altogether, save those which pertain to loyalty, and to devotion. "I." Oh, but it's very good for him, this scenario. "I would also be honored." He grasps Thor's shoulder, in return. He has to stand on his tiptoes.

#Interactions: Thor Odinson #ic #Davos #Davos Iron fist

[erisgregory]

You Were In The Darkness Too, Ch. 2

cross posted to AO3

or start with chapter one

Rating: Teen Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Relationship: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Alex Manes, Maria DeLuca, Michael Guerin, Various Manes Family Members Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Family Reunions,

Homophobia

Summary: Alex has to go to his family reunion, but between his father and all the well wishing matchmakers, Alex really needs a date. A boyfriend, to be exact. So he asks Michael, which is either the best idea in the world, or the worst.

The drive from Roswell, New Mexico to Wichita Falls, Texas was almost six hours, so they would arrive at the reunion at around one if they stayed on course. And Alex definitely panned to stay on course. The cooler could tide them over till lunch which they would eat when they got there. He hadn’t been to his aunt’s house in years, but he had to admit there were a few people he was looking forward to seeing.

Michael was quiet in the beginning as if he weren’t very talkative first thing in the morning. He didn’t say a thing when Alex turned on the radio and found a Fall Out Boy song to listen to. He just looked out the window for the first thirty minutes or so sipping the coffee that Alex had brought him. By the time they came to Lea County Michael was sitting up straight in his seat and looking a good deal more alive.

“Not really the morning type are you?” Alex asked him.

“I know how to get up early, but I’m not crazy about it. Even after years of working on the ranch.” Michael admitted.

That made sense to Alex. He hadn’t always been a morning person, but the Air Force had changed that. Now he rose with the dawn whether or not he had an alarm set. It just became a part of who he was, like making his bed first thing in the morning and keeping his boots polished. He’d thought about relaxing some of his regimen, but then it hadn’t felt right, so he just kept it up.

He was trying to picture what Michael might have done on the ranch and he couldn’t quite see it in his head. Not without more information. “What did you do, when you worked on the ranch, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I don’t mind.” Michael told him. “I was a ranch hand so it really depended on what time of year it was. Odd jobs here and there mostly. Probably what you’d imagine. Working with the horses and cattle. Keeping the ranch running. Fixing things that were broken. The usual.”

Alex could picture it now. Michael really was a cowboy. The real deal, too. A part of Alex wished he could have seen Michael at work. On a horse, his cowboy hat pulled low to keep the setting sun from his eyes.

“You’re picturing some movie scene cowboy shit right now, aren’t you?” Michael asked, breaking him from his train of thoughts and completely catching on to what he’d been imagining.

“Maybe.” Alex said, a smile twisting at his mouth.

“It’s not glamorous, by any means.” Michael said. “But I liked the work. Kept my hands busy.”

“Do you miss it?” Alex asked softly.

“Nah.” Michael said. “It’s nice to set my own schedule for a change. Choose which jobs to take and which to pass on.”

“I see.” Alex said. He wouldn’t know about choosing jobs or setting his own schedule, he was still pulling desk duty for the Air Force and it looked like that might be his lot in life, at least for now.

The fell quiet again for a while, until Michael finally spoke up about the music. “I’ve been enjoying this walk down memory lane, but I don’t think I can take any more emo alternative shit right now.”

“Is that so.” Alex laughed shocked by Michael’s tone of voice.

“Yeah, we need to expand your horizons a little bit.” Michael told him.

“And just what do you have in mind?” Alex asked, curious.

“Spotify.” He said, holding up his phone. “Where’s the adapter go?

“Did you make a playlist for the drive?” Alex guessed.

“Of course.” Michael shrugged.

Alex laughed. “Okay, it goes here.” And he pointed low on the dash where the adapter plugged in. Then he switched the from am/fm to auxiliary.

Michael plugged in his phone and reached to turn the volume up, causing Alex to laugh again.

“This better be good.” Alex warned.

Michael shot him a grin before hitting play on his phone. The first song was clearly country, Michael said it was Eric Church, but then he promised the playlist wasn’t all country so Alex stuck with it. It was actually really good, had a great beat to drive to.

The playlist lasted them all the way to the New Mexico/Texas border. They listened to Rage Against the Machine, Matt Nathanson, Little Big Town, The Sex Pistols, and Muse. At the border Michael pulled up George Strait and together they sang Amarillo By Morning, despite the fact that they were heading to Wichita Falls. It was hilarious, Alex couldn’t even recall how he would have learned the song. Probably his mom.

They got out a rest stop to stretch and to switch places. The air was warm, but the breeze was fresh and cool enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable. Alex pulled out the cooler and they sat at one of the drab little picnic tables eating grapes and cheese and drinking cold water. It was then that Alex realized he’d forgotten the hard part that was coming up. He’d been so distracted by the good music and Michael’s company that he’d stopped thinking about having to see his family.

Granted there were a few people he’d be happy to see, but it was a chore more than anything else. Even with Michael there as a buffer, and wow, thinking about that made him think that maybe they needed to talk about what being together might look like. What it would look like and also what boundaries they wanted to have. They definitely needed to talk boundaries.

“What’s got you thinking so hard over there?” Michael asked.

Alex offered him a tight smile. “While we’re here, I thought we should talk about what being boyfriends will need to look like and maybe set some boundaries.”

“Well, what do you think it should look like?” Michael wanted to know.

“I’m not sure. Things like holding hands or offering to help each other, get things for each other.” Alex began.

“What about kissing? Boyfriends kiss.” Michael pointed out.

Alex had to think about that. “Not on the mouth.” He said eventually.

Michael raised his eyebrows at that. “Okay.” He said. “This is your dog and pony show.”

Alex huffed a laugh. It certainly was, he thought.

“Anything else?” Michael asked him.

“I think terms of endearment are okay, but nothing gross like baby or sugar. I can’t picture you calling me anything but Alex, but if you have to try to make it believable.” Alex told him.

“Fair enough. Sweetheart.” He teased. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“What about you, do you have any limits we should add?” Alex asked.

“No, I think we’ve pretty much covered everything. Except what if you need to leave or can’t take any more of someone’s company. Should we have a code word?” Michael asked him.

“I don’t know, probably. You’re just as likely to need to leave as I am.” Alex said.

“Okay, then what’s our word? Something we wouldn’t normally say.” Michael said.

“Okay, how about Star Wars?” Alex asked.

“You are such a nerd. Are you sure you’re not going to be talking about Star Wars at some point this afternoon?” Michael shook his head at Alex.

“Fine, you pick a word.” Alex told him. He downed the rest of his water bottle and then narrowed his eyes at Michael wondering just what he was going to come up with.

“Alright.” Michael said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “How about, daisy? It’s simple and neither of us are likely to bring it up in casual conversation.”

“Daisy? Okay. Daisy it is.” Alex agreed with a laugh.

They finished their snack and headed back to the car where Alex passed over his keys. “This is my baby.” He said. “Go easy on her.”

“Don’t you worry.” Michael said with a laugh.

They switched back to Alex’s music for some Green Day and Panic! At The Disco, there was some Better Than Ezra and The Eagles, which they both agreed on.

Sometimes they sang along and sometimes they were quiet. It was a companionable silence though, one that gave Alex time to think. The road continued to stretch on ahead of them, though they were more than halfway there when Alex said, “We should get our story straight.”

Michael turned the radio down. “Like how we met, started dating? That sort of thing?”

“Yes.” Alex said, worried now for the first time about how they were going to pull this off.

“Okay, that’s no big deal, we just tell the truth. Your dad’s going to be there, right? He’s gonna know the truth for the most part, so we stick to that and maybe even mention our on again off again tendencies.” Michael suggested.

“Okay, yeah, okay.” Alex said.

“Hey, listen, we’ve got this, you don’t have to worry.” Michael told him. “Don’t go getting your panties in a twist over nothing.”

“My panties are fine. I’m just concerned that we come across as believable. Even to my father. He’ll be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary.” Alex explained.

“We will, we just have to act like we’re used to being out together. You need to get in the right headspace for that.” Michael told him.

“Me? Why not both of us?” Alex wanted to know.

“Because I never had a problem being in public with you, but you--” Michael tried to explain but Alex cut him off.

“Got it. Yeah.”

“I don’t mean to piss you off, I just want you to think about it. This isn’t just Isobel, this is your whole family. And I’m fine with that, but are you sure you are? We don’t have to go through with this, you can drop me off somewhere and pick me up after.” Michael offered.

“I am. I have to be.” Alex said.

Michael sighed but reached to turn the music up again. “Okay, just checking.” He said softly.

They arrived at his Aunt Brenda’s house at 1:20 pm and Alex was officially nervous. He turned off the car and took a deep breath, turning to Michael. “Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” Michael told him.

Together they walked into the house hand in hand in silent agreement, and headed for the backyard, following the sounds of children laughing and general gaity that Alex just wasn’t feeling. Michael gave his hand a quick squeeze as they walked back out into the sunshine, and that was the only thing that could have made Alex feel better just then.

#malex #malex fics #eris writes fics

[dracusfyre]

Square K5: Dear Thor (you’re still a dick)

Warnings: None

Rating: General

Relationship: Loki/Tony

Words: 2,964

Summary:  Tony writes a letter to Thor and thinks back over the years since he got soul bonded to Loki (AKA Five Things Tony Learned About Loki) For Square K5: Five Things.  This is a Sequel to Square R4: Read the Fine Print and Square R1: Conspiracy of Ravens. I’ve officially turned all these soul bond fics into a series called Loki Radio.

for @tonystarkbingo

On AO3!

Tony turned off his monitor and spun idly in his chair, finally admitting that he was not going to be able to concentrate on work.  There were too many thoughts spinning around his head to focus on equations right now.

“Can you, like, carry a letter? Not just relay a verbal message?” Tony asked the raven sitting on the monitor, basking in the warm air coming off the CPU fan.  The bird quorked and fluffed its feathers, bobbing its head up and down.  “Awesome.” Tony stopped his chair and searched through his desk for a pen and a piece of paper, because writing a letter to an ancient Norse god/alien to be delivered via magic raven seemed like something that should be done by hand.

Dear Thor; Tony began, then squinted at Dear.  He got a new sheet of paper and started over.

Thor;

  I hope this letter finds you well. Tony made a face. “Goddammit, this is why we invented computers,” he muttered and got a third sheet of paper.

Thor;

  I want to let you know that you can stop avoiding me now, I’m not mad about the thing with Loki anymore. Not saying that you don’t still owe me one or a dozen favors, not the least that another bottle of that mead you brought that one time.

  The past two year or so has been pretty interesting, to say the least.  I’ve definitely learned a lot about Loki that someone didn’t bother to warn me about.  For one thing, you could have mentioned that he is a nosy bastard. I mean, seriously. He has the whole universe to screw around in and he can’t help but meddle here on Earth?

beware the readmore

          “Stark?”

          Tony glanced out from under the car he was tinkering with and saw Loki looking down at him expectantly.  With a sigh, Tony rolled out from under the car and wiped his hands before accepting Loki’s helping hand of the floor.  “What do you need, Loki?”

          “Do you know anything about this man?”  An illusion of a man appeared in the middle of Tony’s lab, scowling darkly out at the viewer.  He had long brown hair covered by a baseball hat and was wearing clean but worn clothes.  Tony squinted and walked around the illusion, but despite the fact that the man looked vaguely familiar Tony couldn’t place him.

          “No…JARVIS, can you run a facial recognition on it?”

           “Of course, sir.”  Loki had long ago ceased to search for the source of the disembodied voice after Tony had explained what an AI was. “No matching records in any current photo ID database, sir,” JARVIS reported after a moment.

           “Huh,” Tony said in surprise, sitting down at his computer and opening a new window.  “Where did you catch a glimpse of this guy?”

           “He’s been following Captain Rogers for ten days now but refuses to either engage or make contact.” Loki leaned against Tony’s desk and crossed his arms, drumming his fingers on his biceps thoughtfully.  “I thought at first it was an enemy, but now I’m not so sure.”

            “JARVIS, expand search to archived records, foreign databases, and all intelligence community databases,” Tony said.  He rolled around the corner of his desk so he could look Loki in the face.  “So why have you’ve been following Captain Rogers, Loki?”

           “Information is power, Stark,” Loki said with an enigmatic smile. “You never know.”

           “Loki, it is a specific clause in the contract that there will be no more attempts to take over-” Tony started, but was interrupted when JARVIS announced, “Sir, I have a match.”

           Tony pointed to his eyes and pointed at Loki in an I’m watching you gesture before he went to his desk to see JARVIS’s results.  Images and archived news articles appeared, showing a slightly younger version of the man clean cut and wearing a uniform.  After a moment of scanning, Tony’s eyes zeroed in on one image and expanded it.  Steve Rogers, wearing a World War II era uniform, had an arm around the man’s shoulders and they were smiling at the camera, caught in the middle of some sort of celebration.

           “James Buchanan Barnes?” Tony read aloud.  “Uh, that seems doubtful, considering it says right here that he died in 1941.”

           “Appearances would argue otherwise.”  Tony jumped when Loki spoke right in his ear.  Loki reached over him to scroll through the information on the screen.  “Clearly he was a friend and contemporary to the Captain eighty years ago, but what is he doing here now and why is he treating Rogers like an enemy?”

          “Indeed.  JARVIS, put all of this in a new file for me to look at later.” The images obligingly vanished, and Tony turned to face Loki.  “What are you planning, Loki?”

          “Why so suspicious, Stark? I’m just…curious.”  There was that goddamn mysterious smile again and then Loki was gone.

On the other hand, I don’t know if it’s the contract or Loki’s own contrary nature, but there have been a few times where he was really helpful, even if it is in a “careful what you wish for” kind of way.

           It’s strange the way your body reacts when you get bad news, even for someone who has gotten more than his fair amount of bad news.  When Tony heard the words, “Mr. Stark, this is Officer Weber, with the Hamburg Police. I’m afraid there’s been an accident,” he felt his body go numb and his ears start to ring; his vision seemed to both sharpen and go gray as everything slowed down.  Except his heart; that was pounding hard enough to hurt.

          Pepper was a business trip to Germany, and had taken Happy to drive her around.

           “What happened?” He managed, fumbling for his desk chair and sitting down heavily.  “Is everyone ok?”

           “Mr. Hogan and Ms. Potts are in the hospital, in stable condition.  They were driving to the Hamburg airport when someone clipped their car; Mr. Hogan lost control and they hit a retaining wall.”

           A car accident. Tony felt nauseous. “Ok. But, they are-”

           “They are fine, sir,” Officer Weber said, sympathy warming his clipped accent. “Ms. Potts wanted me to make sure you were notified.”

           “Thank you. Tell her I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Tony was already on his way upstairs when the line went dead, taking the steps two at a time. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. “Pepper has the jet.” He paused for a second and said, “Fuck it, I’ll take a suit,” even though he had gotten Very Stern warnings from many governments about flying it across international borders without proper authorization.  But ‘proper authorization’ pretty much meant ‘Only On Avenger’s Business,’ but what was he supposed to do, fly commercial? It would take hours for him to-

           “What’s the matter?” Tony jumped when Loki spoke, and that was when he noticed Loki lounging on his couch.

           “Pepper and Happy were in an accident.  They’re in Germany, and I have to figure out the fastest way to get there without earning myself a military escort on the way.” Tony fisted his hands in his hair, trying to think. Wallet. He needed his wallet and his phone. Clothes? Nah, he could buy clothes, having a suitcase would only slow him down.

           Loki sat up, looking mildly concerned. “Are they injured?”

           “Well, they’re in the hospital, so they’re injured at least a little.” Tony took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart so he could think. Pepper would not thank him for making a mess for her to clean up later.

           He only realized he was pacing when he almost ran into Loki, who was holding a hand out expectantly. “What?” Tony said, staring at the hand and then up at Loki’s face.

           “Let me send you to Germany,” Loki said, making a come on gesture with the outstretched hand.  “You’ll be there in seconds.”

           Tony hesitated for the barest moment, but he could feel Loki’s sincerity so he took his hand and sure enough, he was standing outside Hamburg hospital between one heartbeat and the next.  He blew out a relieved breath and resolved to find some way to thank Loki.

           It wasn’t until later that he realized that he didn’t have his passport, or a passport stamp, or basically anything to indicate that he was in Germany legally since he had not, in fact, gone through border control at all.  Overall though, as Tony waited in the Interior Ministry office, waiting to speak to the head of German Border Control, he had no regrets.

Somewhere I heard that he’s known as the God of Lies, but that just seems like bad PR.  He doesn’t lie nearly as much as he likes people to think he does; I don’t think I’ve ever heard him tell an actual lie at all. He doesn’t even cheat at poker (I think).

           As Tony’s regular poker group grumbled on their way out the door, Tony leaned his chair back on two legs and studied Loki.

           “You know, for someone known as the God of Lies, I don’t think you even bluffed through that whole game,” Tony mused.

          “It’s more fun to give people just the right amount of information and let them lie to themselves,” Loki said with satisfaction as he stacked up his poker chips.  However much money he may have on Asgard, he had just become a millionaire on Earth in one night.  There had been a $250,000 buy-in for this particular game and Tony was the only one besides Loki walking away with any chips, mostly because he had figured out Loki’s game before anyone else.  He had even virtuously refrained from trying to cheat through the soul bond, both out of fairness and because the only information coming across Loki Radio had been the emotional equivalent of tuneless humming. “So what do I do with these?”

          “Well, I can give you the cash equivalent, unless you want to keep a bunch of plastic chips that have no inherent value.  Has there been something you’ve wanted to buy?”

          Loki shrugged and toyed with one of the chips, running it between his fingers. “This was entertaining.  Is there someplace I can do more of this?”

          Tony blinked for a long moment, lost in the mental image of Loki in Vegas or Monte Carlo.  “You know what, yes. Yes there is.  Gimme a second to change clothes, because I want to see this.”

He is, however, aggravatingly smug and superior. Which I should have known.  How in the hell do you deal with that ‘know it all’ attitude, especially when it turns out that he’s right? Is this part of the reason why you guys fight so much?

           “This Accord is a farce,” Loki said, tapping the thick document resting on Tony’s dresser, leaning against the wall as he watched Tony get ready for the meeting on the Sokovia Accords. “You are one of the most powerful men on the planet. You should be dictating the rules, not having them dictated to you.”

          “First of all, I didn’t ask your opinion,” Tony said, frowning in concentration as he worked on a complicated knot in his tie.  “Second of all, I would expect nothing less from someone who grew up under an absolute monarchy.  In a democratic system I’m no more powerful than any other person.”

          Loki snorted at that and raised his eyebrow.  “Yes, I’m sure your wealth and status count for little,” he said dryly. “At least in Asgard no one suffers from poverty, starvation, or illness. Or is that part of why your political system is superior to mine? Your citizens have the freedom to die of easily preventable causes?”

          Tony scowled at Loki in the mirror.  “I didn’t say it was perfect.  Do you really think you could come in here knowing nothing about humanity and do better?”

          “Of course,” Loki said, giving Tony a condescending look. “Humans are like children. You can try to explain to them what is best but they can’t be trusted to actually do it; it is far preferable to trick them into doing what they should be doing anyway.”

          Tony rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, ok.  That’s not an option on the table here.  And remember, not trying to take over the world was a specific clause in your contract.”

          Loki airily waived the comment away. “What are Captain Rogers’ objections then?”

          “He believes that the system can’t be trusted to make the right call.  But you can't say that you're defending the system and then act like you're above the system. It can't be ‘do as I say not as I do’ because that makes you no better than any garden-variety vigilante.”

          Loki shrugged. “If that’s how you feel. It's not as if I need to agree with you. Since I'm not a citizen of Earth, this agreement has no jurisdiction over me.”

          Tony turned to look at him suspiciously. “That is an extremely specific comment to add to this conversation. Who have you been talking to?”

          Loki smiled and changed the subject. “Are you bringing a suit?”

          Tony gestured to himself, straightening his cuffs. “I'm wearing a suit.”

          “I would suggest you bring something a little more robust,” Loki said, pushing himself away from the wall. “I get the feeling that there will be bloodshed before this is all over.”

And you know how they say it’s always the quiet ones that surprise you?  Here I thought Bruce had a temper.  I’ve seen Loki aggravated, impatient, and cross, but there’s only been one time that I’ve seen him really lose his temper.  Gotta admit, it was pretty terrifying, even if I wasn’t on the receiving end.

          Steve knelt over him, eyes wild, shield raised.

          “No! No!” Tony raised his arms to protect his face, flinching as Steve brought the shield down.

          Between one moment and the next Loki appeared and caught the shield before it could fall. His eyes flared green, incandescent with rage.  He bared his teeth at Steve as the building around them shook, dust raining from the ceiling.

          “You would dare,” Loki said dangerously, ripping the shield from Steve’s hands and flinging it across the room. It barely missed Barnes and embedded itself into the wall with a sharp, echoing tone that seemed to echo absurdly long in the concrete bunker.  Steve scrambled to his feet and backed away.

          “I wasn’t-” Steve ducked and threw himself to the side as the shield came slicing through the air towards him, gouging another gash in the concrete.

          Loki took a step forward, lips flat and green light coiling tightly around his hands and arms.  He spread his hands and the concrete rippled and shook, throwing Steve off his feet.  Barnes staggered towards a fallen pistol and a flick of Loki’s fingers slammed him against the wall and kept him there.  Steve climbed to his feet again, fists raised with a look of resolution on his face.

          Loki’s eyes narrowed and turned his wrists, facing his palms towards the floor.  Steve staggered and fell as Loki’s magic forced him to his knees. “Beg for a forgiveness you do not deserve,” Loki snarled.  “And you may die quickly.” Steve let out a groan from behind clenched teeth as he fought against the force holding him down.

          “Stop!” Tony sat up with a scrape of metal against concrete. “Loki, don’t,” he said tiredly, letting his head fall back against the concrete column.  “Just…send them away.”  When Loki nodded and raised his hands Tony added, “Somewhere on Earth. Just not here.”

          Loki’s jaw tightened as if to argue but he reluctantly complied; with a gesture Steve vanished, and then Barnes was gone a moment later. When they were alone he knelt at Tony’s side, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes skimmed over the bruises and blood on Tony’s face.   His hands hovered over Tony as if looking for a safe place to touch while the soul bond thrummed with concern and smothered rage.

          “I’m ok,” Tony said, knowing even as he said it that he probably sounded far from ok, which was fair, because he really was. “Help me out of this, will you?”  Loki nodded and followed Tony’s instructions, fingertips skimming over damaged plates as he set them aside.

          Finally Tony was freed from the heavy weight of the armor, which had become suffocating as the systems failed, one by one.  He buried his head in his hands and sat back against the cement pillar, breathing in the frigid air, and after a minute, Loki joined him, sitting close enough that their shoulders brushed.  As they sat in silence, Tony realized that at some point over the past year, Loki’s presence had become comforting rather than aggravating.  He let himself lean against him, borrowing Loki’s strength until he felt steadier.  Eventually, he turned his head to catch Loki’s eye and held out a hand.  “Let’s go home?”

All in all, I guess what I’m saying is, I understand why you pulled a fast one over on me with regards to the terms of this agreement in order to save his life.  And not just because he's family.  Tony tapped the pen on the desk for a while, trying to figure out what to say.  So come by when you have a chance.  We’ll have some mead and catch up.

                     -Tony S

          "Good enough," Tony told the raven as he signed the letter and folded it into thirds.  He opened the top drawer to his desk, full of nuts and seeds, and let the raven eat its fill as he taped up the edges of the letter.   "Thanks, Ed," he said as the raven took the letter carefully in its beak, flapped its wings a couple of times, and disappeared.

#tony stark #loki #loki x tony #frostiron #tonystarkbingo2018

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Hi, I just recently found your blog and it's amazing! I'm so happy there are still people there are as invested as I am in the Animorphs series! I especially love your Adult AU and your analysis of the books. In fact I was reading one of your posts where you said that Cassandra Clare's book glorify violence - if I'm remembering correctly - and I was curious if you could expand on that. If you prefer you can message me privately since this is strictly an Animorphs blog. I hope I'm not bothering u

No bother at all.  I sometimes feel like I spend half my blog space whining about how every other book on the planet is inferior to Animorphs, which isn’t actually the kind of vibe I’m going for.  I SWEAR I LOVE YA SF.  Just… Not Mortal Instruments.  I’ve tried.  I tried so hard to like that series.  It is objectively well-written and creative.  I just… I can’t with Cassandra Clare’s work.  I can’t.

First of all: a confession.  I’ve only ever read City of Bones, City of Ashes, and about half of City of Glass, and then several different issues (the glorification of violence, the glorification of “slender” or “skinny” bodies, the way Jace’s Freudian Excuse gets used to let him get away with all kinds of bad behavior, the borderline-pathological worship of True Love in City of Ashes) conspired to drive me away from the series as a whole.  So I don’t actually know if Clare improves in the last 80% of the series.  Thus everything I say has that big honking grain of salt. 

However, I do take issue with the way that, from what I’ve seen, the Mortal Instruments series portrays violence.  Individuals are portrayed as all good or all bad (literally, they’re on the side of the angels or else they support demons) and—from what I’ve seen—there are literally no good demons, nor are there angels worse than “morally grey.” This Manichaeisan worldview (which I think is no accident given the overtly Christian overtones of the series) basically justifies pretty much any acts of violence on the grounds of “they are bad and we are good and therefore pretty much anything we do to them is good, regardless of the means we use to get to that end.”  One extension of this principle which pops up again and again and again with regards to the Shadowhunters is that Might Makes Right.  Clary is the best at coming up with new runes to kill demons, which is a sign she is the best good; Izzy is the best at stabbing demons very dead, which is a sign that she is good too.  Morality comes about by way of violence in that series.

It’s troubling because it glorifies war as “we are the good guys wiping out the bad guys” and utterly dehumanizes the bad guys in the process.  Given that we live in a world where pretty much any group can be potentially cast as “the bad guys,” and that we as humans have an implicit bias toward casting ourselves as “the good guys” no matter what group we belong to… It can reinforce bad behavior.  To say the least.  

Case in point, the first scene in the series is one of Clary witnessing a major fight between (apparently) several children her own age, who are using deadly weapons to launch all-out attacks against each other and (again, apparently) succeed in killing at least two individuals at the end.  The narration doesn’t focus on her shock or horror or utter terror; it spends a long time dwelling on how cute Izzy’s dress is and how nice Jace’s cheekbones are and how cool they all look swirling around with their magical weapons.  (And slender bodies. Can’t ever, ever forget to mention that every single one of them has a slender body.  I confess that’s the #1 pet peeve in the writing that drove me away from the series.)  I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest that Clare has probably never witnessed a real fight, or even a video of a real fight, because this is not only unrealistic (real fights are short, chaotic, hard to interpret, and incredibly disturbing—kind of like how they’re described in Animorphs) but it also suggests that violence is cool. 

Meanwhile, I don’t want to suggest that Clare is by any means the only author with this problem.  There was a great article (which I have since lost—I’ll have to send a link if I find it) which pointed out that American Clinton supporters and American Trump supporters and American independent voters all cast themselves as the Rebel Alliance in Star Wars and cast their political nemeses as the Galactic Empire.  Because it’s easy to do: the narrative of Star Wars dehumanizes the stormtrooper enemy (although I could have cried with happiness when Finn took his helmet off in the latest film) while glorifying the individuated, special, blessed-with-magic heroes.  It literally says that there is “light” and “dark,” and that the light is justified in (for instance) blowing up a space station with dozens of prisoners of war and possibly hundreds of innocent sanitation workers on board, just as long as doing so advances the cause of the Light.  Avengers, Doctor Who, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, and a simple majority of sci-fi/fantasy suffers from this problem. 

I also specifically said that Clare doesn’t so much glorify violence and other troubling content as much as she fetishizes violence, which I do view as a problem specific to Mortal Instruments.  It leads to this attitude of “people did bad things to me, therefore I can do bad things to [totally unrelated individuals].” Clary nearly forces Alec to out himself to his parents (which, I admit, hit all of my own personal “NOPE” buttons when I was reading the series as a closeted queer kid) because she idly experiments on him without fully informing him of what he’s getting into, but she’s special and this is how they discover she has the best angel powers of them all and that means that it gets brushed over.  Jace and Clary are jealous and possessive jerks toward each other while also pushing each other away throughout City of Ashes and City of Glass, but this is portrayed as excused because They’re Doing It For (unhealthy, selfish, possessive) True Love.

The one that drives me furthest up the wall is the scene where Jace stalks into a bar, orders a Scotch (because Scotch is a Man’s Drink, never mind that the Man in question is a bratty 16-year-old), throws the Scotch at the wall because he’s Overcome By Emotion, shouts at the people in the bar, and then demands a replacement from the bartender.  This whole sequence gets portrayed as “look how much Jace is suffering” but I couldn’t get away from thinking about how much the bartender, the random patrons, and everyone else who has to deal with his temper tantrum must be suffering.  Seriously, that’s the kind of behavior that I would punish in a six-year-old, because I’d expect a six-year-old to know better, whether or not the six-year-old thinks that he’s in love with his sister and that their father is an evil demagogue (Luke Skywalker called and he wants his plot back, by the way) and whether or not the six-year-old has a Sad Hawk Backstory™. 

Anywhoo, I find Clare’s work… frustrating.  Obviously.  I have ambivalent feelings about most of the other sci-fi/fantasy for which Animorphs has ruined me forever, but Clare’s work is high on my personal “nah” list.

Quick inevitable aside to How Animorphs Did It Better: the kids view avoiding violence as the ultimate end for which they are fighting this war.  Any time the protagonists have to choose between a violent means and a nonviolent one, they struggle to find a nonviolent one.  There are good yeerks (Aftran, Illim, Niss), bad andalites (Estrid, Alloran, Samilin), and even bad Animorphs (mostly David, but to a lesser extent Marco and Rachel).  Even then, the good-bad dichotomy gets complicated and continuously questioned, such that the “good” guys do a lot of things that everyone can agree are “bad” and get condemned for it.  Marco acts like a jerk toward Tobias early on in the series, and the fact that he’s doing it partially because he’s (reasonably) terrified of dying thanks to what Visser One did to both his parents and partially because he’s whistling in the dark very clearly doesn’t excuse his behavior.  Visser One spends AN ENTIRE BOOK trying to argue that her bad behavior is the product of her having had a rough life, and at the end of it Applegate succeeds in getting us to hate her more, not less.  Predominantly “good” characters do “bad” things (Ax killing Hessian soldiers, Cassie letting Tom’s yeerk have the morphing cube, Jake flushing the yeerk pool), just as predominantly “bad” characters do “good” things (Visser Three helping defeat the nartec and helmacrons, Visser One protecting Darwin and Madra, Chapman’s yeerk agreeing to help Melissa), and the series doesn’t offer a moral dichotomy any more absolute than “try not to harm people, I guess.  Oh, and do your best to prevent other people from getting harmed, if they can’t protect themselves.”  The series shows that Tobias’s sad human backstory doesn’t make it okay for him to annihilate the mercora or even to snap at Rachel when he’s hangry.

I just… really love Animorphs.  And it ruined me for every single other book series on the planet. 

#awaytothink #answers #asks #violence #morality #aggression #freudian excuse #jace wayland negativity #cassandra clare negativity #mortal instruments negativity #nothing to do with animorphs #albert bandura #body negativity #ya sf