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#(the codes were first after arin; now they have him; now what?)

qsmp-lore-dump · 2 months

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Long time no see :) Here is a Tubbo Lore reflection and appreciation thread

ATTACHED ENTITIES

The parallels with Creation and Arin are too much for me to ignore and contain my excitement about. I don’t think it was done on purpose either and that's what makes its soooo exciting to me. That separate creative minds made stories that deepen, mirror, and contrast the other. But not even that, Tubbos Creation lore adds so much depth to other pieces of overarching lore to the Island.

Like i said, i dont know if it was done intentionally or completely by chance, either way it's so perfectly done.

Arin:

“Woke up” the day the train arrived with the first members. His existence is dependant on Luzu for now and the Codes were hunting him because he didnt belong in this dimension. Arin says that if Luzu were to know of his existence, Arin wouldnt be able to come here (the island) anymore and that if the Code catches him, he ceases to exist in this world.

Arins purpose was to learn and make the world a safe environment.

When he departs from BBH and Foolish on Day 24, he says he will search for answers, a way to bring Tilin back, because in his world it is possible to bring someone back.

(3 above images from Day 24)

Creation:

*sorry i dont really have screenshots along with this since Creation communicates verbally*

When Creation first appears, we learn that his purpose is to protect the “Shells”, what he calls the Eggs. He warns that Tubbo cannot know that he has been activated. Creation repeats this warning to the Residents on Day 327, his 2nd appearance.

Day 327 is when Tubbo “dies”, triggering Creation to give protection to Sunny aswell as find a way to rebuild/restore Tubbo “Primary Protector”.

Arin, linked to Luzu from another Dimension, whose existence must not be exposed to Luzu.

Creation, linked to Tubbo, created by him, who’s activation must not be exposed to Tubbo.

THE ICE CHAMBER

After Bobby’s death, Jaiden commits herself to aiding the Federation with the promise of protection over the remaining Eggs.

Day 71, Jaiden is tasked with gathering resources from various residents that she will need to deliver on Day 109. That same day, Pomme is attacked 3x by a Code which causes Jaiden to question Cucuruchos ability to protect the eggs or not. She is told this is not the real mission yet.

Day 109, Jaiden delivers the resources to an abandoned facility, presumed to be Federation. When she deposits the items Cucurucho asked her to gather, it activates the system. The system attached to the Ice Chamber where Tubbo and the others were kept.

Intentionally or not, this deepens the history of the island and Creation so much. The implication of Jaidens tasks not being the real mission to protect the eggs while ending in her activating the system to inturn activates Creation, whose purpose is to protect the Shells, validates and solidifies Federation lore and the history of the Frozen residents as well as Jaidens character who has an unknown connect to the Federation.

(Day 136 Jaiden)

The abandoned facility is very likely an old BioLab. In Cellbits POV you can see there are multiple water tubes, all with a chair or seating area facing it, along with a shelf and books. A place for taking notes, recording data. It highly resembles the BioLab Etoiles and Bagi were sent to investigate, where the captured code was found.

(Day 109 Cellbit)

(Day 249 Etoiles)

ELENA

When Bagi interviews Elena, we learn Elena works in genetics, the BioLabs. Refer back to the books found in the abandoned facility, many are noted by “E”. I believe the “E” stands for Elena.

I know there are many theories floating around regarding Tubbos' relation to the Federation and Elena in particular, so take this last bit as you wish :) Perhaps Tubbo was one of her experiments.

BASICALLLLLY, I have no idea how much or if any of this was done intentionally by Tubbo, if the storywriters had any bit of guiding hand when he was working on his lore, or if it entirely by chance but no matter which, I am VERY excited to see how it develops. To learn about qTubbos history, more about the history and purpose of the Ice Chambers as a whole.

I REALLLLLY hope everyone sees this the way i’m intending it, as an applause to Tubbo and his character building because it isnt my intention at all to detract from his lore by attributing or linking it to someone elses but rather appreciating the depth Creation adds to the overarching lore of the story as a whole.

#qsmp thoughts #qsmp lore #qsmp tubbo #qsmp federation #qsmp theory #qsmp creation #qsmp jaiden #qsmp eggs #qsmp sunny #qsmpblr #qsmp elena

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honestmouse20 · 7 months

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Okay, personal thoughts on dragons rising under the cut. Spoilers ahead!

I didn't care too much about Wildfyre going into part 2. she was cool but not really a character I was fully invested in. That is, until her and Kai went on their little quest/mission to get the dragon energy core. They were so Sweet! I loved how Kai had to be the responsible one and how Wildfyre had to learn how to thikn before she acted. They're a really good dynamic and I their relationship growing during this season felt very natrual and good!

Zane! also not one of my favorite characters. But him speaking to a broom with Pixal's photo taped to it got to me okay? I do wonder now where she is.

Mr. Frohicky (idk how to spell things, i've been up all night. give me a break lol) I did Not expect him to return after the crossroads episode back in part 1. He's actually grown on me a lot. It's still kinda weird bc the tone of this show is just a Bit different than previous Ninjago. But it's not bad and I wouldn't hate seeing more of him in the future

Lloyd. God he got so much character develepment this season but especially in part 2! From him trying to do everything on his own to upkeep the Monastary and then finally excepting help, to getting much better at teaching the new ninja. I really loved all the scenes with him an Arin and how their relationship has gone from Arin being a fanboy, to genuine respect and friendship. 10/10

Speaking of Lloyd. What on Earth was all that stuff he saw Again when he acted as the conduit again? I really hope we get more info on those vision in the next season. That's the one big mystery that they havn't really touched on

last lloyd thing, mayeb it's just the angst lover in me, but I really hope there's some kind of conequence to him acting as the conduit. Maybe it starts really draining him or maybe it just makes accessing his power a little harder. I hope they explain it or at least like, mention it.

I'm actually kinda glad they didn't go the whole route of having Nya distrust the Djinn guy who'se name i can't remember lol. It was a nice expectation subversion. Bc my first thought was that he was gonna be evil/ have heard that *she* was the one who tecnically destroyed Djinnjago. I really like that they helped him the way they did and the lesson it taught Sora

Speaking of Sora. I love her. I still fully belive that her power is creation but if it is just 'tech power' i really like how they're handling it. LIke we all Knew it was never Ryu's power she was using but the moment *she* figured that out still felt genuine and deserved because we saw her go through the process of realizing whta was holding her back. 10/10. no notes

Freaking COLE! So him and Lloyd are tied as my favorite charaters bc yee. But holy shit even tho it was 5 am when i got to his episode and i was exhausted. I sat up on the couch and just lost my shit. One, he's still so good at finding people in trouble/captured and deciding he's their protecter. I love him so much. and two. was it just me or was that whole episode so freaking queer coded it isnt funny? Like, even more so than his true potential episode back in S1.

Shipping aside, I really like how on par with his character his episodes were. Even tho they were short and I really crave more about him, they did a good job of leaving just enough questions to keep us interested while also showing us the important parts. Plys the new ability rock monster thing is cool

in that same vein. what the fuck does 'the earth is screaming' mean? hello that shits terrifying? My theory atm is that its' the realms fighting the merge bc it's like unnatural or something. but idk. i would have liked to hear more about that

Zane's car!!!! I own that set and holy fuck it did not dissapoint! At first i was kinda bummed it didn't do Actual spinjitzu, at least I don't think so. But him spinning wildy and saying 'this is adequate' or whatever, is so freaking funny! also it's super fast and looks epic. no notes lol

and Jay! we see him! I'm not really a big jay fan but I am curious what theyr'e gonna do with him next season

and finally, i Really liked all the references to past seasons/events! Even if it wasn't in your face, it was still really nice to be able to see all the pices of the past sprinkled throughout. It was also funny to see Sora being surprised Lloyd is the FSM's grandson. 10/10

If i think of more I'll make another post lol

god i need to re watch the season already

i have SO many thoughts. HOw am i supposed to go to work later and be an adult while ive got these little plastic ninja running through my head at full speed

#ninjago #ninjago spoilers #d rambles

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kqluckity · 8 months

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🚨🚨this post is my speculation (as of September 7th when I'm writing this)🚨🚨

okay codes timeline (sort of)(there won't be dates because that is a lot of work and I don't feel like checking every vod out there <3 i will go from memory alone I'm not putting this in the wiki I don't need citations the source is my mind)(under the cut because it seems like a long post)

>so. the codes first arrived after arin, he was scared of them and I don't remember if they worked for/with the federation and they came from the immaterial world like arin

>then the eggs appeared and the codes changed target. they went from going after arin to going after the eggs, even arin was worried for them before disappearing (taking over luzu's body after tilin died)

>then for the longest time the codes were after the eggs. they wanted the eggs dead frfr and were successful in taking a life from almost all the eggs that were on two lifes

>THEN after what felt like months (it was maybe a couple weeks max) of etoiles wanting to kill one (1) code for fun, he got that and since then he's been their primary target/sparring partner, especially since they stole the sword™ from the federation and he got the shield

>more recently they started to act weird. they started to impersonate the eggs*. they started imitating them during the night of the presidential dinner, when they showed up as tallulah and chayanne and then after the dinner they attacked etoiles and philza (and bad), and continued like this.

*the residents also thought the codes were the capybaras because of the wilbur party but the capys were targeting the candidates in that specific case, so it's unlikely

>THEN maxo discovered he had a parasite in his body that is transforming him into a code

which brings us to now. now the codes seem to have studied the eggs very well, they're able to imitate their mannerisms and seem to know their interests (imo this is also why fake pomme had a book, because of real pomme's diary). also they seem to be wanting to become more like the actual eggs/take their place.

also after etoiles kicked their asses in the arena (11-0 BABY NOT EVEN CLOSE!!) they appeared to protect one of arin's computer from the residents that were trying to fuck with it which could really means that the codes are against the federation now, or at least, they're as much against it as they can

#this post is only three days late. also all of the things i say here are what i understand the timeline is like #this is what i think hope this helps #if I'm wrong you can add to the post and I'll reblog the corrections/edit the post with said corrections 👍🏻#qsmp #mcyt tag

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arincalz · 3 years

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a brief overview of the callister family / @gallaghertasks

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑨 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹, mother — at first, nobody believed the rumors that goody-two-shoes carissa mccoy had fallen pregnant towards the end of her junior year of high school. even when, over the summer, pictures of a little baby boy popped up on her facebook. only when she appeared on the first day of senior year with the same baby in the counselors office did anyone genuinely believe it. the baby was arin; his father a boy who had just graduated and absolutely refused to entertain the idea that he was his. whether out of fear or a lack of empathy, he left carissa completely on her own.

fast forward. three years later she was in college and working part time. making enough money to pay for the necessities and arin’s preschool on her own while her parents insisted on covering rent for their tiny one bedroom apartment just off campus. she was stubbornly determined not to let stereotypes define not only her life, but arin’s existence. she wanted whatever was best for both of them, and what was best was to forge ahead as planned. or, as closely as possible to planned.

years passed carissa would graduate with her degree in early childhood education. continue to do as much for herself and arin as possible, with support from her parents to help fill in the gaps. she’d get a job as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant for a few years until eventually landing a lead teacher position. where one day she would meet a cute, funny, substitute teacher named travis. they would click almost immediately, and one thing led to another, which led to introducing a now nine year old arin to the man who she would soon start referring to as her boyfriend. fiancé. husband.

hiding what was really going on at blackthorne from his mom was the single hardest thing arin’s ever done. he’s always told her everything, and not being able to tell her the truth makes him feel awful. keeping the secret about gallagher has been easier, but he still hates lying. at least he could mostly tell the truth about the schools merging. more than once, he’s almost slipped up and said too much, and the fact that she hasn’t caught on that something is odd yet is something of a miracle.

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹, step-father — carissa met travis callister when her son was nine, and she quickly realized he was different from the handful of men she’d gone on one-and-done dates with over the years. they met when he was substituting for the teacher across the hall and hit it off chatting on the playground at recess. he popped up around her school every once in a while, always making a point to drop in and say hi when he did. it was on one of those visits that he’d ask if she maybe wanted to go out and see a movie on saturday. “i would ask if you wanted to go tonight but you probably need to find a babysitter and...” and a shy smile. really, that was the moment it was all over.

a lot of people have issues with their step-parents. arin isn’t one of those people. after meeting travis for the first time arin told his mother he approved, she could marry this guy if she wanted to. ( she laughed and insisted she wasn’t thinking that far ahead yet, but everyone knew better. ) to travis, arin is his son. no ifs, ands, or buts about it. the two of them have that kind of bond. hell, arin even took his last name after the wedding totally on his own. most people wouldn’t even realize they aren’t biologically related, which suits both of them just fine.

just like carissa, travis is completely in the dark about the true natures of blackthorne and gallagher academies. lying to his dad isn’t quite as difficult for arin, but it’s still hard to keep his mouth shut.

𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹, younger brother — arin was 14 when he finally got the sibling he’d always wanted, despite regularly telling nate and devon that he was glad he was an only child. for better or worse, orin practically worships the ground his brother walks on. wants to do whatever arin does and glues himself to his side any time arin goes home to visit. arin can’t say he minds any of it ( too much ). he already has orin into coding, playing whatever coding apps he can get his hands on and packing most of his christmas list with tech toys; and little league hockey. their mother is thrilled to have two kids who enjoy a high impact sport. arin couldn’t be prouder.

𝑬𝑫𝑾𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹, younger brother — admittedly, arin doesn’t know his youngest brother all that well. not that there’s much to know, being a literal baby. edwin was born this past april, while arin was still finishing off the year at gallagher. he actually almost dropped out of the berlin trip at the last second after finally getting to spend a couple weeks with family, but his mother convinced him that he wouldn’t be missing all that much and the trip wasn’t an oppertunity that comes around all the time. those few weeks over the summer were enough to bond, though, and always eddie gets excited to skype with his big brother a few times a week.

#gallagher:task #❛ about. ❜#looks @ this #looks @ my indie #arin really is just all the doncasters mashed up into one chaotic little man isn't he

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evalinkatrineberg · 4 years

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Good

A/N: Product of a C4 RP with @arin-schreave . Unedited because its 15k, its 3:30am, I’m just trying to catch up, and of course We Die Like Men. Mentions include @ladyreggiewright @clemencewestley @idaliamoretti @melanie-schreave @ladyjenli and @safiya-schreave . May have forgotten some, sorry! Also I can't think about windmills without thinking about Pilot Peter BUT ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO,,,FIC!

I yawned, staring at the blank piece of paper in front of me. My plan had been to respond to the letters my family had written to me - my mother’s, in particular - but after fifteen minutes of sitting at my desk, I hadn’t even written a, “Dear mother,” or anything of that sort. With a sigh, I rubbed at my eyes, earning a frown from Julia, who stood behind me, brushing my hair.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” She set down the brush, narrowing her eyes at me as she picked up a handful of bobby pins, sticking some on the hem of her dress sleeve.

I frowned in response, deciding whether or not to tell her the truth. I truly had tried to go to bed at a decent hour, settling back into my room at ten o’clock, but I had laid there for at least an hour, not being able to fall asleep. At that point, I had decided to read, hoping that would tire me out. That had ultimately backfired, because when I checked the clock again, it had been two in the morning. I’d tried to sleep once again at that point, but had maybe gotten an hour or two before I woke up again, at which point I just gave up and went for my morning run earlier than usual.

“Don’t even bother answering,” Julia said with a disappointed sigh. “It’s written all over your face.”

“That bad, huh?” I looked down at my hands where they sat in my lap, running my fingers over each other.

From the corner of the room, Grace fixed me with a soft smile, her eyes warm as she folded some hand towels. “Do you want to skip dinner, and take a nap instead? We can have something to eat brought here later.”

I pressed my lips together. The option was tempting, but ultimately, I shook my head, looking at Grace through the mirror atop my vanity. “I’m not much of a napper, and besides, I’d never hear the end of it from Reggie if I was absent from yet another meal.”

Grace opened her mouth like she was about to say something more, but a sharp knock at the door cut her off. Odd. I hadn’t been expecting any visitors. I furrowed my brows, making eye contact with Julia through the mirror, but she just shook her head, finishing the low bun she had been styling my hair in before taking a few steps back.

Without my shoes on yet, it only took me a matter of seconds to cross the floor to the door. I opened it a crack, peeking through to see who it was. The moment I made out Arin’s face, I blinked twice, my spine straightening. I smoothly opened the door just wide enough for me to stand directly between him and my room, knowing that Christina had probably already dropped whatever she had been doing to try and figure out who had knocked. I loved her dearly, but her penchant for gossip could get on my nerves, sometimes, and I definitely did not need rumors of Arin being in my room spreading around.

“Oh,” I began, crossing my arms as I leaned against the door frame, painfully aware of my half-complete appearance at the moment. I was dressed for dinner, my hair done, but my makeup wasn’t finished. At least I wasn’t still in my glasses. “Good evening! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The smile he offered me in return was tense, as if he was just as confused by this interaction as I was. Why would he be though? He had been the one to come here, after all. It wasn’t as if I’d invited him.

Maybe it was revenge for me showing up to his office unannounced, the last time we had spoken.

“Hey, Evalin” he started, his slightly forced smile still in place. “Are you busy?”

“Don’t miss dinner,” I head Grace mumble from within the room, her tone teasing. “Lady Reggie will never let you hear the end of it.”

I quickly turned to look at her over my shoulder, hoping Arin hadn’t heard what she’d said. If he was here, it had to be important. Was that why he seemed so uncomfortable - had something bad happened? It had been a few nights since that awkward conversation I had had with my father. Anything could have happened in these past few days.

My heart was racing as I turned back to him, not even bothering to cover up the concern I was sure was evident on my face. “No, not at the moment! What’s going on?”

He glanced down at his watch. “I was wondering if you'd want to do something with me.”

I reached up to fiddle with the small, bird-shaped charm on my necklace, needing something to do with my hands. The memory of being in his office was still fresh in my mind. It shouldn’t have been as big of a deal as I was making it out to be, but I was still confused over what exactly he felt for me - if he felt anything at all. If he was asking me to go somewhere with him, he likely didn’t dislike me, but that still didn’t quite make up for the other instances in which he had acted like he wished I didn’t exist.

I pursed my lips, considering his offer further. Maybe, doing whatever he wanted to do would offer me some clarity. I met his gaze, flashing him a half smile as I finally gave him an answer. “Sure!”

“Okay,” he replied, nodding. “Do you want to get changed and I’ll meet you at the car?”

“Sure,” I repeated, starting to turn around, but then stopping in my tracks to look over my shoulder at him. “Is there a dress code I should know about?” I wouldn’t press him for details he wasn’t going to give readily, but I didn’t want to show up wherever we were going looking outlandishly out of place.

“Nothing too fancy,” he answered, taking a step backwards. His words lacked conviction, though. Another date planned by someone else for you, then. Why I even expected anything else at this point was becoming a mystery to me.

My mother’s voice rang through my mind, reminding me to mind my manners. He was trying to be better, after all - he had told me as much. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. It was only fair.

So I nodded once, glancing back inside my room at my maids, who were now buzzing about my room, throwing together what I could only guess was a new outfit. I was doing this, then.

I turned back to Arin, offering him a small smile as I began to close the door. “Okay, I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes, then.”

Once I shut the door all the way, I leaned back against it, eyes closed as I exhaled heavily. When I reopened them, I saw Julia inclining her head as she looked at me, her eyes narrowed slightly as she laid a dark blue dress out on top of my bed. “Are you not excited?”

“No, I am,” I answered, pushing myself off of the door and making my way towards where she stood, Grace and Christina already getting started on unzipping the dress I was in now and applying makeup as soon as I came to a stop. “I just wasn’t expecting this, is all.”

“Not a fan of surprises?” Grace mused, placing my original dress on a hanger.

“No,” I admitted, shaking my head and stepping into the dress Julia had chosen. But that isn’t why I’m like this right now.

As soon as she had zipped up the dress, Julia made quick work of my hair, undoing the bun she had worked so painstakingly on earlier to make perfect, brushing my curls over my left shoulder. She left my jewelry in tact, the silver bird necklace still clasped around my neck as she handed me a pair of heels, leaving me to do my best to put them on without moving my face as Christina applied some eye shadow with her index finger.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Julia’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as she placed some of my flyaway hairs back in place. I must’ve seemed like a nervous wreck. The thing was, I wasn’t nervous - more just apprehensive. My last date with Arin had gone so poorly, and I didn’t need to repeat that. Not unless he was intent on sending me home.

I just shook my head, forcing a smile on my face. “Not unless you happen to have a shot of espresso on hand,” I joked with a weak laugh.

“We could send for one,” Grace offered, her tone dead serious.

I shook my head, laughing a little and waving my hand through the air. “I don’t think we have enough time for that.”

“Of course,” Julia agreed, huffing a sigh and placing her hands on her hips, looking me up and down one last time before shooing me towards the door. “You don’t want to be late.”

I nodded as she practically shoved me into the hallway, closing my bedroom door behind me. Taking the first step down the hall, after that, my body went on autopilot, my legs leading me down the hall and the stairs while my thoughts led me in a whole different direction. My last conversation with Idalia came to mind, her advice plastered to the walls of mind like graffiti. Should I even bother asking Arin where we stood? He probably wouldn’t answer, anyway.

Stop. For once, he was doing something nice, for me. Or, at least I thought he was. I shouldn’t let my own worries about outside subjects ruin that for either of us. I should take a number out of Jen’s book, and do my best to fake it, to have a good time, enjoy myself, even if this wasn’t meant to last.

I deserved a little happiness.

The evening air was cool against the bare skin of my arms as I stepped outside, a small grin on my face. Arin’s car was already waiting, the engine turning over as soon as he caught sight of me from the driver’s seat. Where was he taking me? Out to dinner, maybe - the timing made sense for that. Yet, that lacked the usual thought and effort put into every other detail of the Selection.

So, something else, then. I wracked my brain, trying to think of a common interest that had come up in any of our conversations. We both had an interest in history - so were we going to a museum? That would make more sense than the other interest that had come to mind, which was razor clams. We were both far too dressed up for the beach.

I smiled at him as I opened the passenger side door, pulling it closed behind me after I had slid inside. Buckling my seatbelt, I laughed, remember how dreadful my last experience in this car had been. “I promise to try and not get a nosebleed this time, so long as you don’t fall down again,” I joked, hoping it might break the tension between us somewhat. When had things become so awkward between us? When I took Hugo’s advice, and asked him about the ballet? When we had kissed in the library? When he had mentioned Felicity?

Maybe it had always just been this awkward.

He smiled, but said nothing in reply, looking ahead as he began to pull out of the driveway. That was fine, I supposed. It was important that he not crash the car. I didn’t particularly want to die tonight.

At least, not yet. We’d have to see how this date went, first.

I peered behind me for a moment, expecting to see the guard from our roller skating date in the seat behind me. I’d heard rumors that his name was Kevin. However, Kevin - if that was truly his name - was nowhere to be found, replaced by a different guard that I didn’t recognize. Mildly disappointed, for no real reason at all, I turned back to the windshield, staring at the sky as the car slowly made its way down the driveway. It was a beautiful evening, a few picturesque clouds littering the sky, but not enough to stop the sun from coating the landscape in a warm yellow light.

Still smiling, I peered at Arin out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t appear to be in a bad mood, but I still didn’t want to take any risks that might ruin this. One more slip up, and I was done for, for sure.

Why did I even want to be here, if every step I took stressed me out?

I didn’t care to linger on the question.

“Dare I ask where we’re going this time?” I asked him instead, hoping he’d at least give me a hint. The suspense and anticipation were starting to get to me.

“We're going somewhere you'll like, I think,” was all he said in answer, his eyes still glued to the road that was leading us down to the gates.

Well, that’s less of a non-answer than usual. I opened my mouth a little, wanting to ask him for more details, but I stopped myself before any words left my mouth. He was doing something nice for me, taking me somewhere he’d thought I’d like, and I didn’t want this to be yet another bittersweet memory. We’d made enough of those recently to laugh me a lifetime. Why was talking to him like walking barefoot and trying to avoid stepping on shards of glass? Between all of our previous interactions, and the way he’d just shut down if I said one wrong thing, even if I didn’t know what I’d said to upset him, I just didn’t know what to expect from him anymore. If I kept my mouth shut, though, I couldn’t say anything wrong.

So I did just that, glancing between the windshield and the passenger side window at the scenery we passed, the buildings, the sky, and occasionally the ocean. The novelty of it all hadn’t worn off on me yet, though I was sure it had on some of the other girls. Clemence and Idalia left the palace almost daily. This was only the second time I had, though. The city itself was entirely new to me, a landscape yet unexplored, memories waiting to be made.

Some people came every day, though. Maybe I could too. Maybe I should take Leana’s advice, and see if he could help me in my predicament. Maybe I could enroll in the biochemistry lab course I needed at Angeles University.

Just as I finally had worked up the courage to ask, though, the car began to slow to a stop. I blinked, quickly drinking in as much of our surroundings as I could. We were pulling into a parking spot that had clearly been blocked off for us. Around us were throngs of well-dressed people, chatting and laughing as they made there way towards the performance hall we had parked near.

A performance hall, for something he thought I would like. Surely he hadn’t. My eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces began to latch together, painting a picture I hadn’t even thought to consider.

“We’re here,” he announced, shutting off the car and looking over at me.

I turned back to him, my grin so wide it almost ached. “I thought you said…” I trailed off, shaking my head as I unbuckled my seatbelt. All that fuss before the proposal submission about him not liking the ballet, about it not being his thing, about how I should ask Safiya to take me, and here we were. I didn’t wait for him to open the door for me, still to in shock to think straight as I stepped out of the car.

I stood there for a moment, just drinking it all in - the lights, the people, the excitement in the air - only vaguely registering the sound of Arin’s car door closing behind me. The last ballet I had been to had felt like the grandest event in the world, but compared to this, it seemed almost insignificant. I had just turned nine, and had insisted to my parents that I didn’t want a birthday party. The only people who would’ve come anyway were my family and June, and at that point, why bother spending the money on a party? So instead, my mother had told me that my grandfather - her father - had said that he wanted to treat me and Lydia to a special weekend, in honor of my birthday. He had picked us up early from school, driving Lydia and I the four hours to the house my mother had grown up in, where my grandmother had had nice dresses waiting for the two of us. As soon as we had changed, we got back into the car, driving another hour east until we hit Raleigh, where my grandfather revealed that he and my parents had pooled their money for three tickets to the Carolina Ballet’s production of Giselle.

It was one of my favorite memories, even to this day. I hadn’t known that people were capable of combining that level of athleticism with artistic expression before that moment. According to my grandfather, I had been leaning so far forward in my seat the entire time, so enraptured by the story playing out before my eyes, that I had almost fallen out of my chair. I had been so upset by him saying that, that I had argued with him nearly the entire hour back to his house. In hindsight, I wished I hadn’t. It was one of the last times I had ever seen him.

I blinked again, realizing that Arin now stood by my side, his hand extended towards me. Interlocking my fingers with his, I looked up at him, feeling my smile soften into something more earnest than excited. “Thank you,” I said, pouring every ounce of sincerity I had within me into the words. “Really, this means so much to me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he replied, shrugging. With that, he squeezed my hand, his grip neither vice-like nor bone crushing, but rather almost surprisingly gentle. His hand was warmer than I had expected too.

I smiled as he led us away from the car, towards the entrance of the performance hall. I simply could not get enough of it, all other thoughts completely erased from my mind. Worries, fears, cares - what were they again? Did they even exist? All I knew was my wide eyes, my grin that stretched from ear to ear, how excited I was to see the ballet, and how nice it felt to hold Arin’s hand.

Right, he was here too, even though this wasn’t his thing, according to him. He had elected to suck that up for me, though. Why? Had he been put up to it by somebody else, or, better yet, did he actually care enough about whatever we had between us to make an effort?

Something like that went both ways, right? By that logic, I should make an effort to make this experience as enjoyable as possible for him as well.

I tore my gaze away from the performance hall, looking up at him, where he walked to my right. “I’m almost finished with that book you recommended, by the way! It’s very interesting, actually.” It wasn’t much, but I figured it was something, a token of gratitude just large enough to be recognized for what it was.

“Really?” His surprise was evident in his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in questioning as he looked back down at me.

“Yeah,” I answered with a nod, feeling a faint blush begin to color my cheeks. “Once I started, I could hardly put it down. I accidentally stayed up until two in the morning last night reading it,” I admitted, laughing a little at myself. At least in saying that, I had also unintentionally created a half-true explanation for why I might seem so tired. I meant what I had said about the book. It was interesting, and I had stayed up later than intended to, lost in the content of its words. It hadn’t been my intention to read it purely out of interest, though. Had it been boring, like I had kind of thought it would be, it might have put me to sleep. Curse Arin for having good taste in books.

“It definitely wasn’t at all what I expected it to be,” I added after a moment, “but I think that just made it more interesting.” Especially since it was about a portion of history that we so rarely got to touch on in history classes. Most of the courses I had taken in both high school and college had glossed over everything after the 1970s, if we even made it that far in the curriculum by the end of the semester. All I had really known about the 2020s prior to reading his book had been World War III, riots over social injustice, and of course, the global pandemic that had occurred early in the decade. Even at that, I lacked knowledge of the context surrounding those situations.

“I’m really glad you liked it. It’s not for everyone.” He came to a stop as we reached the doors, smiling at me as he let go of my hand to hold the door.

“Thank you.” I walked through the entrance, trying not to lose track of the conversation at hand as I took in the architecture of the building itself. The whole entryway was alight with a golden glow from the chandelier hanging in the center of the room, the tint complimenting the gold accents on the carpets that covered the floor. Closer towards the main doors, at the other end of the room, were two marble staircases, sweeping dramatically upwards towards what I could only assume were private boxes that must’ve cost a fortune.

“Girls, take a seat on the stairs, quickly.” My grandfather let go of my hand, placing his hand on my back instead, gently nudging me towards the staircase. “I want to take a picture to send to your mother.”

I giggled, grabbing Lydia’s hand and swinging it back and forth as I more or less skipped towards the stairs, turning on the ball of my foot when I reached them, and gently plopping myself down on the third step from the floor. She laughed through her nose at my antics, taking a seat to my left with all the grace of the ballerinas we were about to watch. I leaned over towards Lydia, my head just in front of her shoulder, smiling as my grandfather readied his phone to take the picture.

I had turned out looking absolutely wild. My hair was frizzy, my smile had led me to squint so much that my eyes were almost shut, and to top it all off, I had been missing a tooth at the time. I wasn’t sure I had ever looked happier, though.

I looked over my shoulder at Arin, forcing my mind back into the present. “But, yes, it was very interesting. Especially since it wasn’t that long ago, when you really think about it. I mean, when you sent me the name of the title, I realized it was only six years before my own father was born, which blew my mind for a moment.”

With a few large steps, he caught back up with me, taking hold of my hand once again as the crowd pressed in around us, leading us towards the auditorium doors like a tidal wave. The contact settled something within me that I hadn’t even realized was stirring, like an anchor in a stormy sea. I marveled at it, peering down at his hand. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. It wasn’t as if I would see it clothed in some magical glow, that would somehow explain how he had this effect on me. He was just a man, after all. A man with a fancy title, sure, but a man nonetheless.

I couldn’t be this head-over-heels already. That was enough to scare any man away. Hadn’t I been conflicted about this only minutes ago? I simply couldn’t feel that strongly for him.

“My grandfather remembered the war,” he admitted, his expression growing distant.

Oh, crap. The last time his family had come up in conversation had been our date, right as it started going downhill. Abort mission. Change the subject.

I shot him a sympathetic smile, making sure to keep my voice low as I spoke. “My grandfather refused to talk about it. Not that I can blame him, though, at all.” He fought in it actually. Maybe you’ve heard of him - Edvard Berg? No, now was not the time to open up that can of worms. I didn’t know many of the specifics of my grandfather’s life before he had moved to Swendway. My parents had always kept that information hush hush, under lock and key, and for good reason, I was sure. All I knew for sure was that he had been a naval engineer, and possibly even somewhat of an inventor, though the details on that were kind of unclear to me. That, and I knew that he had been the one to propose leaving Swendway to my grandmother and my father, twenty years after the third World War. I had hypothesized about why he had elected to leave, but I couldn’t confirm or deny any of my theories, given a lack of evidence and information from him and my father. One day, soon, maybe, I’d have to ask for more details.

Arin opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the ushers announcing the final call for people to enter before they closed the doors. I was about to pull him forward, not realizing how close we had been to being late, but he began pulling me in the other direction, inclining his head towards the stairs. Of course his family would have a private box. I should’ve known that.

I looked upwards, using my hand to shield my eyes from the bright stage lights beaming down on us. There were people on the balconies upstairs. Why? They were so far from the stage! Could they even see the dancers from up there?

“Grandpa,” I began, tugging a little on the sleeve of his suit. “Who sits up there?”

He followed my gaze upwards for a moment before turning back to me, his expression grim as he answered, “Important people.”

I frowned. “But you’re important! You’re my grandpa!” I leaned to the left, nudging him with my shoulder. My words earned an appreciative chuckle from the couple behind us, but I didn’t find them funny at all. What made those people more important than the rest of us? We were all here, right now, for the same reason.

“Yet, I couldn’t even afford these tickets on my own,” he mumbled under his breath, looking down at the bulletin the usher had given us.

I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to have heard what he had said, but my frown only deepened anyways. “Why didn’t you and grandma become Threes when mother became a Three, when she married father?”

He made a sound then that sounded like something halfway between a cough and someone choking. Even Lydia leaned forwards in her seat, her brown eyes wide as they met mine. She shook her head. My grandfather, however just looked down at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s just not how it works, Evvy.”

“Why not?” Surely, he’d be able to afford tickets to the ballet if he was a Three like mother and father, and me and my siblings.

“Hush now, the show is about to begin.”

I almost had to run to keep up with Arin, my smile growing nonetheless, even as we began to ascend the steps, my thighs protesting with each step. Starting my run earlier meant I’d end up running longer than usual, apparently. I’d stopped tracking my distance since being here, just running until my head was clear, and I felt more prepared to take on the day. This groggy morning, it had taken me until just after sunrise to get to that point.

Once we were up the stairs, Arin’s guard trailing a few feet behind us, he led me down a hallway, past numerous sets of closed double doors. For someone who didn’t like the ballet, it sure seemed like he knew where he was going, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had been given specific instructions beforehand, though.

He didn’t stop until the last set of doors, where an usher stood, alert, two programs in his hands. Arin entered first, grabbing one of the programs on his way in. I followed suit, thanking the usher quickly before turning my head forwards to size up the private box. The view wasn’t terrible, in fact, it was rather amazing, but it was a little more off to the side than I was used to. There were only two rows of chairs, all empty, but still just as close together as I remembered the ones in the main auditorium of the Carolina ballet being. The only thing I could see being an issue was the lighting, which was dimmer up here than it was downstairs. Even with glasses or contact lenses, I was as blind as a bat in poor lighting.

Arin kept his grip on my hand as he led us to two seats in the middle of the first row, the door softly closing shut behind us. I took my seat, realizing that the poor lighting up here might actually prove to be an advantage, because it was easier for me to focus on the well lit stage, where I could actually see what was happening.

I still couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Wow.” My voice was little more than a loud, breathless whisper as I turned to Arin, shaking my head and grinning like a bobcat. “The view is incredible!”

He squeezed my hand in response, but then let go, flipping through the pages of his program. The air conditioned air around my hand felt colder than it should have. It was as if my hand was frozen. I couldn’t move it off the armrest shared by our chairs.

He glanced over at me, now on the third page of his program. “Have you seen this one before?”

Right, the program. I somehow had to read that in this lighting. I picked up my own program, squinting as my eyes strained to make out the title on the cover. He must have thought I was illiterate, or something, having a hard time reading something typed in black, in a large font, on a white page. Seconds seemed to last an eternity as I finally made out the words. Don Quixote.

I shook my head, already feeling an ache starting behind my eyes. “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard of it, though - all good things!” Looking over at him, I smiled. In all honesty, it was probably the best ballet he could have been forced to see. I couldn’t imagine him making it all the way through something like Sleeping Beauty, or Romeo and Juliet. He’d probably fall asleep before intermission, and then I’d curse the rules against flash photography, wishing I could snap a picture and send it to Idalia with the message, “we’re even.”

He nodded, pointing to something written on the front cover in a smaller font than the title. “I think this choreographer is supposed to be good.”

I’d take his word for it. There was no way in hell I was going to waste five minutes of our time trying to read the name. “I can’t wait!” With a nod, I turned to him, feeling my smile soften as I took in the apprehension on his face. He looked like he was trying so hard to hide it, for my sake. “I think you might find this one rather tolerable, at least. It’s based off of the book Don Quixote - I’m sure you’ve at least heard it mentioned in a history or English course?”

I saw him nod before the lights dimmed further, obscuring my vision even more. “I’ve read it before. It wasn’t too bad, but not my favorite.” A pause, then, “But I’m sure it’s different in ballet form.”

“It’s abridged,” I confirmed with a nod of my own. The only thing I could see at this point was the stage, and the very edges of the orchestra seated in front of it. They all sat at the ready, their conductor just beginning to make his way to his stand. In another timeline, was this the kind of job my mother could have been doing? Was this the kind of job I could have been doing? I had never had a natural inclination towards creating music, but if it was one of the only career options I had had, I believed I likely would have put more effort into mastering it. Who would I even have been, in this world where biology wasn’t my passion? It was near impossible to imagine.

My lips tugged upwards into a smile as I recalled one detail about this ballet that a friend of my mother’s had shared with me once. “They kept the part where he fights the windmill, though.”

I felt him lean in closer then, wrapping my hand in his once more. I resisted the urge to let out a sigh at that. I needed to get a grip.

“How could you cut that part?” He whispered.

I turned towards him briefly, nodding as I grinned into the darkness around me. “It’s inarguably the best part.”

The first notes of the introduction began to sweep through the air then, and a hush fell over the crowd below us as the strings slowly began their initial crescendo. I let my focus be taken over by the music and the dancers beginning to make their appearance on the stage, each move they made carefully calculated and executed, and yet somehow, still effortless. It didn’t take much for me to get wrapped up in the story. Much like Arin, it seemed, I hadn’t cared much for the book version of Don Quixote. The ballet, however, had snared my attention like it was nothing, especially as the dancer playing the role of Kitri came on stage. If only I could ever possess that level of grace and talent. I understood she had definitely dedicated a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to become this skilled at her craft, but there was no denying that some people were born with an innate predisposition for some skills - such as athletics, music, or academics.

Time flew after that, and before I knew it, the lights began coming back up, signalling the start of intermission. It felt like being woken up from a good dream, the kind that you wished you could pick right back up from where you left off the instant you fell back asleep. I blinked, my eyes taking a second to readjust to actually being able to see more than just one set point. The first thing I noticed was the flurry of activity below us, people scurrying about like ants on an anthill, rushing in and out to fetch refreshments for their friends and family. The second thing I noticed, as I looked over to my side, was Arin, glancing over right back at me. I couldn’t help but wonder how much time he had actually spend watching the ballet, and how much he had spent looking at me, while I couldn’t see him. The thought made my heart speed up a bit, and my face grow a little hot.

I shifted in my chair, in order to face him more fully, grinning from ear to ear. “I cannot thank you enough for this.”

“You like it?” He squeezed my hand, the sensation grounding me back in reality further.

I squeezed his back, my smile growing wider, if that was even possible. “I love it.”

The corners of his own lips tugged upwards then, a small smile of his own flitting into existence. “Well, I’m glad. It should be enjoyed.”

“Yes,” I began, squeezing his hand yet again. What else could I even say? He likely didn’t want to be regaled with my thoughts on Basilio’s treatment of Kitri, or the foolishness of Don Quixote’s actions. He’d probably already heard as much from whatever teacher he’d had to read the book for. “I agree.”

He looked forward then, peering over the railing of the balcony at the crowds down below.

The lights coming back on awoke me from my stupor. I rubbed the last of my tears out of my eyes, hoping that my grandfather hadn’t seen me begin to cry when Giselle had died. She had deserved so much better! She had finally found her true love, her soulmate, only for her heart to give out right then and there? How could that be right?

People began to stand up from their seats, pressing against each other in the aisles on either side of the row we sat in. My grandfather began to do the same, turning around to face Lydia and I as he stood. “I’m going to get some water. Do you girls want anything?”

“Peanut M&Ms?” Lydia asked, smiling widely and clasping her hands together a few inches below her chin.

Grandfather sighed. “So long as you don’t make a mess of your dress. Your mother and your grandmother would both kill me.” He shook his head, and then fixed his eyes on me. “Ev?”

“I’m good,” I answered with a shake of my head. “Thank you.”

“Alright.” He began to scoot his way down the aisle, grinning down at us as he passed by. “I’d better hurry. I don’t want to miss the second act, now do I?”

“Well, they’re all in a hurry, aren’t they?”

I bit my lip, glancing over the edge of the balcony as well, a small close lipped smile forming at the memory of my grandfather’s words. “I guess they don’t want to miss the second act.”

“I’d be in a hurry too, I guess,” Arin replied, his tone insincere as he raised his eyebrows.

He was really trying so hard to pretend to not be bored to death by all of this, that it was almost sad. Glancing back at him now, I sighed. This had been a real treat, for sure, but I had no intention of torturing Arin, especially since he had already been on so many dates he hadn’t wanted to go on. Yes, both those and this had been in part by his own doing, but one of us had to be willing to meet the other halfway.

“Look, Arin,” I started, shooting him a sympathetic smile, “I cannot stress enough how great this has been, and how much you doing this has meant to me, but I really don’t want to be the one to force you to sit through the second act if you don't want to.” We both knew full well he didn’t want to. I had to laugh. “It’s really okay.”

To my surprise, he shook his head. “No, really, it’s fine. You’re enjoying yourself, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave.”

Well, I gave him an out. It’s not my fault he didn’t take it.

My smile grew slightly, and I squeezed his hand, my voice little more than a whisper to my own ears as I said, “Thank you.”

Once again, he dropped my hand, looking away as he stood up and began to stretch. First his arms, then his legs, finishing with his back, before turning around and taking a seat on the floor, facing me, his back against the wall of the balcony.

I chuckled a little at that. What would the people of Illea say if they saw their crown prince sitting on the floor when there were perfectly good chairs available for him? Not that I could blame him. I was often guilty of sitting on the floors of hallways in my school, outside of my classrooms, reading my notes in an attempt to cram that last bit of information into my brain before taking an exam.

“How’s the view down there?” I leaned forwards, bracing my elbows on my knees, interlocking my fingers. If only he was holding my hand instead. Am I that touch starved?

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes locking onto mine. “Stunning. How’s the view from up there.”

Stunning.

I almost kissed him again, right then and there.

Instead, I smiled, feeling my blush deepen at my own thoughts. “Pretty incredible.” What was I, twelve? Was I going to ask him if he like-liked me next?

He dropped my eye contact the, sighing as he glanced down at his watch. I was beginning to get the sense that this was the most enjoyable part of the night to him. With a sigh, he announced, “We have thirteen more minutes.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, unable to get a read on how he felt about that. “And is there something in particular you’d like to do with those thirteen minutes?”

He simply shrugged, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

Oh, no. We were not doing this. Not now, in the few minutes where we would actually be able to talk, in the few minutes he might actually look back upon fondly. Rolling my eyes, I pushed myself out of my chair, sliding down the balcony wall until I was seated on the floor next to him, smoothing out my skirts once I was still. Upon finishing that, I followed his gaze upwards towards the ceiling tiles. There was nothing particularly interesting about them, that I could discern, at least. They were just your average, everyday ceiling tiles, sometimes spaced out to make space for larger stage lights. Was he trying to blind himself by looking into the lights before the second act? I’d have to give him points for creativity, if that was the case.

“Well, hello there.”

I looked over, finding him looking right back at me, his eyes wide with surprise. I had startled him again, so it would seem. “Right back at you,” I replied, chuckling as I playfully nudged him with my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t rough at all - really, he probably shouldn’t have even felt more than a light tap.

“What is it with you guys and hitting me?”

Who’s been hitting him? Isn’t that against the rules.

He mustn’t mean on purpose then, or rather, not with the intent to cause harm or damage. I was beginning to get the idea of what he meant. Laughing lightly, I raised an eyebrow at him. “I take it Idalia’s gotten to you, then?”

He chuckled. Bingo. “She has.”

I loved being right.

Laughing along, I shook my head, glancing at Arin out of the corner of my eyes as I thought over the last conversation I had had with Idalia. “Classic Idalia. She hit me with her pillow at least three times the last time we spoke.”

“And just think -” he shook his head “- she knows how to use swords.”

I chuckled, fairly certain that actual fencers didn’t refer to them as “swords,” but rather as “weapons,” but I didn’t have the heart to correct him. Besides, who knew - maybe Idalia did know how to use real swords! I wouldn’t put it past her. “I’m glad she and I generally get along very well, for that reason.” You might want to be a little scared, though, Arin. Our opinions on you differ greatly, it seems.

The thought crossed my mind then, of the possibility of the two of them fighting. Not just bickering, or arguing, but seriously feuding, to the point where they asked other people to take sides before sorting their own issues with each other out. Whose side would I take in that scenario? My past actions, in insisting that we prank Arin after he had been such a dick to Idalia on their date, suggested that the likely answer was Idalia, but our last conversation had left me rather uncertain. She had almost made me cry. To be fair, I was sure she hadn’t intended for that to happen, and I truly believed she was just trying to look out for me, and yet, as horrible as Arin had been on that first date, I had never come close to crying.

That likely said more about me than it did about either of them, though.

Arin nodded. “She’s something.”

“That seems to be your descriptor of choice,” I pointed out, chucking as I turned my head to look at him. I would admit, I had perused his social media a bit every now and again, and almost invariably, whenever someone asked him his thoughts on a topic or a person, his answer would be that it was something.

Apparently, this was news to him. “Does it?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think we’ve made it through conversation without you describing something or someone as, ‘something,’ or without me apologizing. We should start a penny jar, or something like that, to keep a tally.”

“Really?” He asked, frowning.

Oh, no, is he upset? That hadn’t been my intention at all. God, why did this always happen? I had stopped walking on eggshells for one moment, and here we were.

It was kind of exhausting.

Or maybe that was just the sleep deprivation talking.

“I mean,” I began, my smile faltering, despite my efforts to keep myself together, “the penny jar part was a joke.”

“I got that,” he stated with a nod.

“Okay,” I began, clearing my throat as I tried in vain to figure out what he hadn’t understood, “but, yeah, my point still stands. I genuinely am not certain we’ve made it through a conversation without one or both of those things being said.”

“Well, maybe it’s just the way I talk.”

It was more likely that it had simply been the way he was taught to talk, but I felt like that was a conversation best saved for another time. He already appeared to feel so attacked by this surface-level discussion of the subject. Nice going, Evalin.

My face had completely fallen by this point, a frown replacing what had previously been a wide smile. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just something I’ve noticed, I guess.”

“Something,” he repeated, a flicker of a smile on his face and a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lord, help me. I truly understood why his mother was so fond of wine, now.

“That word sure is something,” I repeated back with a small laugh.

“What else would you like me to say then?”

“I don’t know.” I pursed my lips, considering it, but ultimately, I just ended up shrugging. “I guess sometimes it’d be nice to hear more of your thoughts and opinions on things.”

My conversation with Idalia came back to mind. Was I just another, “something,” to him? I wouldn’t be surprised if I was. He had started out with thirty-five girls, and had narrowed it down to fourteen, but I knew that wasn’t entirely of his own doing. He must have been given advice on who to eliminate, and who to keep, and why. There was no other way to justify the mass elimination that had occurred after the brief thirty-minute interview we had had with him early on in the Selection.

“Well,” he began, raising his eyebrows, “in my opinion, this has been my favorite part of the night so far.”

Just as I had suspected. Still, I wasn’t necessarily disappointed by that fact. If anything, the thought of me being the highlight of his night made my heart beat a little faster. Raising my eyebrows, I cast my gaze downwards, interlocking my fingers with his one again. Almost instantly, something within me clicked into place yet again, as if this was so inexplicably right. Gently, I gave his hand a squeeze, whispering, “I’m glad.”

“It’s really not so bad,” he assured me, squeezing my hand in return. I swore my heart fluttered. Why was I like this?

I laughed a little at what he said, knowing it was a blatant lie, and unable to stop myself from presenting him with a way out yet again. “I respect how hard you’re trying to get through this for me, but my offer still stands -” I leaned over a bit, peering down at his watch “- though this may be your last chance to get out of here before the second act.”

“Maybe I don’t actually want to leave,” he replied, shrugging. “There’s this girl in the audience that has the most adorable reactions to ballet.”

Stunning, adorable - I hope he knows I’m keeping a list.

“Oh really?” I smirked at him, raising both of my eyebrows this time. “You’ll have to point her out.”

He tilted his head a little to the side, a small smile making its home on his face. “She’s wearing blue, and she’s hard to miss.”

I couldn’t resist. “And why’s that?”

He raised his eyebrows at me now. “Because I've never seen anyone look that happy while watching someone fight windmills.”

I leaned back, looking up as I laughed. He had been watching me throughout the ballet, then, and I was quite literally too blind to even notice. I was surprised he had even noticed that the fight with the windmills had even occurred. Maybe he had only known about that scene because I had mentioned it earlier, though. As much as I wished it didn’t, that option made a good deal of sense.

I turned to face him again, intent on just carrying on the conversation. “She sounds like quite the girl.”

“She’s not too bad,” he replied with a small shrug.

I leaned a little closer to him, raising an eyebrow. “I would sure hope she’s not.”

“I don’t think she is.” His smile grew a fraction of an inch, but I’d take it. It was still better than a frown, or a scowl.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, my own smile growing in response to his, “Sure would be a shame if you spent that much time focusing on her, otherwise.”

“And why’s that?” He asked, raising his eyebrows yet again.

I leaned in a little closer, chuckling lightly. “Well, you wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“Well,” he began, his smile growing a bit more. At this right, he might have a full smile by the time we left here tonight. What a success that would be! “I try to avoid spending time with people I dislike, so I doubt I'd have taken her to the ballet if I didn't like her.”

The floodgates of my mind burst open then, my conversation with Idalia a few weeks ago hitting me at full force. Hey, at least that means he must like you. Apparently, he did. You could always ask him. I hadn’t had to, it seemed. I’d literally teased the fact that he maybe, sort of liked me out of him. Do you think he cares about you? Yes, I was almost sure of it, now.

I exhaled, my smile only growing more as the breath left my lungs. “Thank you.”

“It’s only a few hours. I will live.” He just shook his head, but I thought nothing of it. Just as I wasn’t a mind reader, neither was he. There was no way for him to know what that one little sentence he had just said, probably without even thinking about it, meant to me.

“Yeah, I know, but still.” I sighed a little, leaning my head on his shoulder, staring ahead at nothing in particular. I didn’t even care if the second act started while we sat here, if I was being entirely honest. Just sitting, touching, like this, felt good. Right. I wanted to capture this moment, and freeze it in time, like a scene in a snowglobe.

He rested his own head against mine. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, now,” I answered, shaking my head as much as I could without disturbing his. “Sorry, I was just thinking about a conversation I had last week, but it’s irrelevant now.” The questions that had plagued me now had answers, and ones that I liked, at that.

“Conversation?”

“It was nothing, really,” I reassured him, giving his hand another squeeze. “It’s unimportant, now. I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” His voice was softer when he spoke this time, his concern genuine, and more than simply laced in with his words.

Do you think he cares about you? Yes, I could honestly say I did.

“Yes.” I moved a little closer to him, readjusting my head slightly so that it fit a tad more comfortably on his shoulder. “What you said earlier resolved it.”

“Okay.” He didn’t sound confident, but he didn’t press me further, which I was fine with. I didn’t need my own uncertainty to spoil this moment, especially not with the newfound clarity it had brought me. He liked me - enough to want to spend time with me, even.

It was a pretty low bar, but it was still better than the worst case scenario my mind had come up with over the past few days.

I sighed, squeezing his hand in what I hoped he would understand was a gesture of reassurance, and then dragged my gaze to the chairs that loomed in front of us. “We’re going to have to stand up soon, aren’t we?”

“We don't have to. I'm pretty content down here, honestly.”

“I will admit, I am pretty comfortable right now.” Not just down here, but with us - this starting point. I might not have had the political knowledge of Reggie, or the legal skills of Jen, or the confidence of Clemence, but I was still the one here, snuggled up with him, on the floor of the Angeles Ballet’s theater. I’d made it this far. I stood a chance of making it further.

He chuckled. “Somehow the floor is more comfortable than those chairs.”

“Agreed,” I said, laughing along. Those chairs had felt so spacious when I was a child, but now, I was of the opinion that they were not made with people over the height of five foot six in mind.

A small noise of contentment issued from him, the sound standing out against the noise wafting up from the general auditorium below, where I assumed people were making their way back to their seats, completely unaware of our existence at all. I kind of liked it that way. There was a sense of normalcy to it, that was a luxury we didn’t have much of nowadays. You knew what you signed up for.

I did know, I realized as I shifted my head slightly, hoping the motion didn’t disturb him too much. “This has really been the nicest evening I’ve had in a long while.”

“Really?” Was that teasing I detected in his voice? “I thought that time we went roller skating was nice.”

“I do remember the part where you fell rather fondly,” I admitted, laughing quietly.

He let out a loud groan at that. “Thanks for the reminder.”

I had to laugh. I couldn’t help it. That moment would be something I’d never let him live down, even if we didn’t end up together at the end of the Selection. “Anytime!”

“I'm glad I made an impression.” I couldn’t see his reaction from our current position, but I was willing to bet that he had rolled his eyes.

That’s one way to put it. I exhaled heavily through my nose, the noise that ensued somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m sure my nosebleed made quite the impression on you.”

He lifted his head then, looking down at me as he shook it. “No, actually I'd totally forgotten about that.”

How? I lifted my own head now, narrowing my eyes at him as I moved it off of his shoulder. “Well, that’s nice to hear,” I admitted, averting my gaze to our hands. “I was honestly mortified about that.” I hated how soft my voice had gotten towards the end of my sentence.

“Why?” His look now mirrored my own - eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. “It's not like you had any control over it.”

“I know that, but -” I sighed. Would there ever come a day when verbalizing my thoughts or emotions wouldn’t prove to be such a challenge? “- it’s not exactly like it was an ideal scenario, and the date itself had already been so rocky, and just combined with what had happened that morning, it was just not how I had wanted the day to end, I suppose.”

You know he doesn’t love you, right?

I was tired of letting Lukas’s phone call from that morning loom over my interactions, like the spectre of a friend long forgotten, and yet, I couldn’t figure out how to stop thinking about it. It was as if his voice was trapped in my head, and I wanted to let it out, but I wasn’t strong enough to undo any of the locks on the windows of my mind. I had blocked his number. I had determined I didn’t care about him. So why was I letting his words get to me, weeks after I’d hung up the phone on him?

“But it was still out of your control,” Arin insisted. “Don't focus on it too much. We just saw a man fight windmills and you're worried about something that happened a couple months ago.”

If only he knew.

I kept my gaze on our hands, unsure of how to proceed. I had a few options here. I could come clean with him, entirely, and stop the secrets between us, at least on my side. That might make communication clearer, easier. Alternatively, I could continue to ignore what was bothering me, until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I was approaching that breaking point, but I wasn’t quite there yet. I could hold out a little longer.

I blinked once, my decision made. Turning my head to look up towards him, I forced a smile on to my face. “I suppose you’re right. Too bad there no windmills around here, huh?”

The frown that formed on his face told me that I must have been an even worse actor than he thought he was. “Evalin, what's wrong?”

“Sorry.” I shook my head. It appeared that there was only one way this conversation was going to go, after all. Still, maybe I could mitigate the damage. We didn’t have enough time to dissect my life’s problems, nor did I want to burden Arin with them. He had enough going on on his own, without me potentially adding to it.

I’d keep it vague, then. “There’s just a lot going on back in Carolina with the professor I used to work for, and my family, and classes, and I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I think it’s all starting to catch up with me now.”

“You know you can take a break, right?” He leaned a bit closer, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

Why is my heart fluttering again?

I looked up at him, my brows furrowed. “How?”

“Well, it's summer, right?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t really change the situation,” I argued, shaking my head.

“Summer break?” He furrowed his brows in confusion, looking at me like I had grown a second head.

Yes, Arin, believe it or not, I know what summer break is.

I just continued shaking my head, looking up at him and taking a shaky breath as I attempted to keep my smile in place. I had to keep myself together. I would not fall apart in front of him. I would not unravel next to him on the floor of the Angeles Ballet. “The situation is a bit more complicated than just summer break. I’d explain it, but it’s a long story, and I don’t want to make you sit through that on top of this.” I punctuated my sentence with a gesture over the top of my head, towards the stage below us.

“Alright.” He pursed his lips, nodding once and then glancing away. “Sorry.”

My words must have come out all wrong. This wasn’t what I had intended to happen. That’s why you have to be honest with him, and tell him the whole truth. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to. The list of people I was willing to be that open with was short, and consistently decreasing in size. Idalia or Clemence, maybe, but the jury was still out there. Sometimes, I felt more burdened when I finished talking to them than I did before I spoke with them. Lydia, of course! We had shared a room for almost our entire lives. It was impossible to hide anything from her. June, because she was the most loyal person I knew, and I had complete faith that she would guard my secrets until the day she died. Yet, I hadn’t told her about Proctor, or Lukas, for that matter. I realized then that I also hadn’t told Lydia. That meant the only people who knew about Proctor and Lukas were my father, and Proctor and Lukas themselves - and even then, I hadn’t told my father all of the details.

My list had dwindled down to zero.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault!” I squeezed his hand lightly before pursing my lips. Maybe telling him something - even if it was vague, or only a part of the story - would help. “I can explain after the second act, if you want. It’d be a tad hypocritical of me to ask you to be more open, without being more open myself.”

“Alright,” he replied, nodding as he glanced down at his watch. “I guess it's probably going to start again soon.”

I leaned over, squinting at his watch in a futile attempt to make out the time. No luck. Between the glare of the lights, and the small size of the numerals on his watch, I really had never had a chance of seeing the time for myself. I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. “That would make sense, I think.”

As if on cue, a little chime rang out through the speaker system, signalling for everyone to return to their seats, “Perfect timing, I guess,” Arin noted.

“Impeccable, really.” I began to scoot away from him, bracing my hands on the ground in preparation to stand back up. If I ever had access to a time machine, I was going to go back in time and have a chat with whoever had come up with the idea of high heels. They were inarguably the most impractical form of shoe I had encountered in my almost twenty-one years of life.

We settled back into our seats, the lights dimming once again as the company retook the stage for the second act. I let the production take me away once again, losing myself in the high pitched runs of the flute, and the complex turns and leaps of the dancers. By the time the second act was over, and the company was taking their final bows, all I knew outside of the stage itself was that I was smiling, and I was clapping.

Right, and Arin was still seated next to me. How had I almost forgotten that? I turned lo look at him then, offering him a small grin. “You survived.”

“Barely,” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

Smartass. I chuckled. “I hope the reactions of that girl in blue you mentioned earlier were as nice as you expected them to be.”

“Oh,” he began, a small smile playing on his lips, “they were very entertaining.”

So he had been watching me again, then. I liked that, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead, I simply smiled, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it as I thought back to our earlier conversation. I had agreed to open up to him - and I would hold up my end of the bargain - but was I just supposed to start speaking now? Would it be better to just wait until we were outside?

As I was debating what to do, he squeezed my hand in return, yawning. “Dinner?”

Those four seconds were filled with the most stereotypical “man things,” - the yawn, the thinking only of food - I had ever witnessed in one sitting. I didn’t know what else to do but laugh, and reply, “Sounds good!” In the thrill of coming here, I had forgotten all about the fact that we had missed dinner. I’d have to brace myself to be lectured by Reggie once again in the morning, over breakfast. Assuming I didn’t miss breakfast to run, again.

“Alright, then.” He stood up, practically dragging me with him, as we were still hand in hand. Still, I found I was kind of grateful for the help up. Sitting in the same position for so long had left my legs kind of cramped.

I rubbed my skirt with my free hands in an effort to smooth out any wrinkles before looking up at him again, and asking, “What were you thinking for dinner?”

“Honestly?” He chuckled. “I thought I'd just ask you want you felt like having.”

I hummed thoughtfully, biting the inside of my cheek as I thought about it. He wasn’t going to let my own indecisiveness slide, then. That was probably for the better, though. I needed to start stepping up, speaking up, and making decisions for myself. “I’m not super familiar with what’s around here, obviously, but I do like seafood.” I shrugged, offering him a smile before adding, “Really, though, I’m good with anything.”

“Seafood it is, then,” he decided with a nod, leading me out into the hallway, through the throngs of people attempting to do the same thing we were.

“Sounds good,” I replied, more focused on not losing my grip on him as the crowd swelled around us, than anything else. I knew I would be able to find the car, if need be, but it would just be easier if we stuck together. He must have had the same idea, because he held on to my hand firmly, even as he weaved in and out of the maze of people, practically just dragging me along for the ride.

As soon as the cool, night air of the outdoors his us, I exhaled, smiling in relief as I took in the open space before me. We continued walking towards the car, still hand in hand. A childish part of me was tempted to start swinging our hands back and forth, but I refrained, getting the sense he wouldn’t enjoy that very much.

I looked up at Arin. “I suppose it’s time for me to hold up my end of the bargain, then, and continue the conversation from intermission?”

“Only if you feel comfortable,” he answered, giving my hand a squeeze as he met my gaze.

A different memory came to the forefront of my mind as we continued making our way down the steps.

“I -” I cut myself off, shaking my head. I could feel how flaming red my face and the tips of my ears were, despite the cool winter wind nipping at my exposed skin. “I’m too embarrassed by it.”

Lukas narrowed his eyes, the creases in his forehead deepening. “I deserve to know,” he pointed out, “friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Even then, something about his phrasing had ticked me off, but I hadn’t been able to put my finger on just what it was. I had never pressed him for details about his home life, his family, or really anything, if I was being honest. When I asked, I took what he gave me, never requesting more when he paused, or glossed over something. He had never afforded me the same kindness, though. Every detail that was mine was his, because friends weren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other. I had considered it a good thing at the time - he was bringing me out of my shell, ensuring I had someone to confide in, but now, I wasn’t as sure of how pure his intentions had been. Had he had the same conversations with June? I was doubtful.

In contrast, here was Arin, offering me an out. There was no way I could take it, though. He hadn’t took the out I had offered him, and I would be a complete hypocrite if I didn’t open up to him, as I hoped he might one day open up to me. That didn’t mean I had to spill everything right off the bat, though. I’d start small, just to test out the waters.

“It’s only fair,” I pointed out, giving him a small, close-lipped smile, “and it’s really not that big of a deal. There’s just this in-person lab component to one of my classes, which the professor has been super helpful about trying to find a way around. She suggested that maybe I could get the work I had done during my internship to count for the lab credit, but the issue is -” I paused, sighing, not having even really dealt with the issue yet, but already tired of dealing with it “- the professor I used to work under and I had a falling out back at the end of the spring, and she’s still really not happy with me because of it, so she told the professor of the class that I’m taking that I could count the work I did for my internship for credit, but she’d have to have my name redacted in all of the publications that I’m mentioned in.”

God, I sounded so whiny. There were so many people - even here, in Angeles, at the palace - that had been through so much more taxing situations, and overcame them with grace. I shook my head, disappointed in myself, now that I had voiced my thoughts aloud. “I really shouldn’t complain. It could be so much worse. It’s just that that includes the experiment that I came up with, which would essentially mean that I get no credit for my own idea, which kind of sucks.”

“You can't get the credit and keep your name on the papers?” His brows were furrowed, his eyes narrowed at me as we continued making out way down the steps.

Trust me, I feel as confused as you look. “Apparently not,” I replied, frowning and looking down briefly as I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of that happening to anybody before, but her email claims it’s department policy.”

“Well, did you check with someone higher than her?” He led me to the passenger side of the car before letting go of my hand, opening and holding the door for me.

I might have been surprised if I wasn’t so annoyed over my own situation. I shook my head, offering him a small smile as I slid into the car, as if that would make up for him having to listen to me complain about an issue that really, probably meant nothing to him. “She’s one of the heads of the department, the other head being my father, and we try to avoid dragging each other into things like this, in order to minimize the amount of times the word, ‘nepotism,’ is thrown around.”

“Can you go higher than them both? Not use your father at all?” He asked before closing the door and walking around to the diver’s side of the car. At the same time he got in, his guard got in the back seat, the two of them shutting their doors in somewhat eerie synchronization.

I furrowed my brows at the suggestion, turning it over in my mind as we buckled our seatbelts. Who even was higher than the head of the department? “I hadn’t considered that. I’m not sure who would be higher than them, to be honest.”

“What about the dean?” he suggested, starting the car.

Oh. Duh. I frowned. Even the dean couldn’t tell the heads of each department what they were allowed to do with their publications outside of the university itself, if I understood the universarial political structure correctly, but Arin might be on to something. “I think the dean might be able to clarify the policy, so if it is something that the professor I worked under made up on the spot, that could work.” Looking over at him then, I added, “Logically, though, I know that either way, it’s not the end of the world. It’s just frustrating, I guess.”

He was silent for a moment, staring ahead at the bushes that lined the parking lot, before offering up his two cents on the matter. “It’s up to you, but wouldn’t you feel better if you didn’t have to worry about it, though? And you could move on?”

I paused, looking down at my hands as I processed what he had just said. Was he trying to see the problem from my perspective - something he had been so adverse to doing when we had talked about understanding other cultures as a method of improving international relations during our first date? That was a big step in the right direction. Plus, he did have a point. I guess he can read me a lot easier than I can read him.

“Yes. I’ll see about emailing the dean tomorrow morning,” I answered finally, turning back to look at him then. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed,” he replied with a shrug, looking at me once more. “So, what are you in the mood for?”

I frowned. Hadn’t we just been over this, inside? Either, he wanted to know if I had somehow remembered the name of a specific seafood restaurant, or he had a really terrible memory. “Well, what’s good around here? You’d know better than me!”

“Well, what do you feel like having. I can base my choice off that.” He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly. So, he had a pisspoor memory, then. Noted.

“Well,” I began, raising an eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment to give him a chance to remember that we had already had this conversation. I smiled at him as well, but he didn’t seem to even understand that I found this mildly amusing. “I mentioned seafood earlier.”

He nodded, taking the car out of park and looking out the back as he began to pull out of the spot. “Seafood it is then.”

“Perfect.” I gave him a nod and a smile, before turning back to the window. If his memory really was that bad, I couldn’t blame him for taking a long time to remember the names of any of the Selected girls. Still, if he knew he had a poor memory, he should have known that he’d have to devote a little extra time to memorizing our names, to begin with. Then again, with his schedule, extra time was likely a luxury he did not have.

It wasn’t worth losing more sleep over. I turned back to Arin, a new topic of conversation already in mind. “Do you get to come into the city often?”

He waited until he had pulled the car onto the road to answer. “Not too much. I've been a few times, recently, but not as much as I'd like.”

I nodded. Once again, that made a good deal of sense, with what his workload appeared to be. “It seems nice. A lot bigger than I’m used to, though, for sure!” Knoxville truly wasn’t even comparable to Angeles. The two places were as different as night and day, though each had their own unique charms, from what I had seen.

“Is that good or bad?” He asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I gazed off into the distance at the buildings rising up before us, and then to the shoreline beyond, so distant it was hardly even visible. Angeles felt like a never ending sprawl of buildings to me. Someone could so easily get lost, mixed in with the crowd, anonymous to anyone except those who were looking. Yet, it was also a city where many big names had been able to make connections and rise to fame. There was a little something for everybody.

“Good,” I decided, “I think.”

He barked out a laugh at that, the sound almost making me jump. “You should write the travel brochures. ‘Visit Angeles- Good, I think.’”

“To be fair, I’ve only been two places in this city,” I pointed out, even as I laughed along. “‘Highlights include - roller skating and ballet.’”

“Let me guess, your tag line for the roller rink is ‘It’s a great place to fall on your ass.’?” He cut me a glance for all of a second, still leaving me tempted to remind him to keep his eyes on the road.

Still, I had to laugh at that. Although, no travel brochure I had ever seen would be so crass. “How about, ‘great place to settle disputes - in various languages!’”

“Well, there you go. You’ve got a promising career!”

“Good to know I’ve got a backup plan,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. Lord only knows I’ll probably need one, if this doesn’t work out.

“I wish I had one of those,” he admitted with a wry laugh. “This’ll either pan out or it’ll be like 18th century France.”

My laugh came more from a place of surprise than anything else. He must be nervous about how capable of a king he was going to be. This was likely the closest I was ever going to get to him admitting something about himself, at least, until we got to know each other better. It was a roundabout method of learning more about him, sure, but it’d have to do for now.

So, I was going to laugh away his admission with a joke. “Never too late to run away, I suppose. Though you’d need to plan it out well. You might need a lookout.”

He only sighed at that. “Even if I got out my sister would track me down. She’d never let me get away with it.”

I hummed thoughtfully, nodding. Presumably, he was referring to Safiya, whose medical career would undoubtedly be ruined before it even started if she was forced to become the heir or the queen. I could only imagine what lengths she would be willing to go to to prevent that from happening. “She is certainly capable of doing that.”

I narrowed my eyes, side-eyeing him as I attempted to come up with another approach. “What if it was like eighteenth century France, but instead of you actually dying, you just faked your death, and then ran away?”

“I'm pretty sure the Bourbons tried that- it didn't work out well,” he states, “and Guillotines only stopped being used less than one hundred and fifty years ago so I'm not sure I like my chances.”

Ah, of course, the Bourbons. How could I have forgotten about them, after the conversation Arin and I had had over two glasses of the alcohol that shared their name. “Fair,” I relented, laughing lightly as I looked at him. “I guess you’ll just have to ensure that nobody start rioting in the streets about bread, then.”

“Or I can just cut back on the cake,” he joked, chuckling. “Which, for the record - I know she never said that.”

Damn, I had been so ready to point that out. Nonetheless, I grinned, shaking my head a little in mock disappointment. “One if history’s biggest myths - right up there with Napoleon being short. Why do all of the fun tall tales come from France?”

“It’s probably because of all the wine they drink,” he stated with a pointed look in my direction.

Did I have a reputation as a wine connoisseur? I chuckled, knowing that if anyone thought that, they couldn’t be further from the truth. “Good thing there are better alcoholic beverages out there, then.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t let my mom hear you say that.”

I debated informing him that I had gotten along with his mother just fine when I had bumped into her in the kitchen a few nights ago, but I decided against it. Somehow, I didn’t imagine he’d be too fond of the idea of Jen and I accidentally having a brief wine night with his mother. “My lips are sealed,” I promised, chuckling lightly as I leaned back in my seat, “and it’s not like I dislike wine. I just like other things more.”

“Oh? Like what exactly?” Thankfully, he kept his eyes on the road. Good, I’d like to make it to dinner in one piece, please and thank you.

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” I admitted with a laugh.

He glanced over at me for just a second. “Hit me with it.”

Smirking a little, I met his gaze out of the corner of my eyes. No matter who I told this to, they always seemed so surprised, as if I was the last person they expected to be able to handle shots. “My drink of choice has always been tequila, no chaser.”

Arin was no different. He turned to face me fully then, tearing his now wide eyes off the road. “Seriously?”

I tossed my head back laughing as I took in the expression on his face. I really couldn’t fathom why this news was so shocking to so many of the people here. Even Clemence had seemed rather surprised that I preferred tequila to wine, when we had last talked in her room. Considering the context of where I was coming from, though, my drink of choice made sense. At least, I thought it did. “Well, I am a college student, in a big school, in a part of the country notorious for very active fraternities and tailgates.”

“Should I be worried about Wylan’s party?” He asked with a slightly nervous laugh.

Getting my earlier fit of laughter under control, I turned back to him, smiling and shaking my head. “I can handle myself, don’t worry.” Though, Wylan’s party did raise a whole new slough of questions. Was he going to seek me out there - even with other girls present? That seemed unlikely, but it was a nice thought. More importantly, did his question mean that there would be shots of tequila available at Wylan’s party? If that was the case, things could get very interesting, even without me there.

We pulled into a parking lot that was about half full then. It wasn’t difficult for Arin to find a spot. After putting the car in park, he hopped out, coming around to my side to open the door for me. “Thank you,” I said, looping my arm through the one he offered, letting him lead me towards the restaurant. A part of me still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this new Arin, who actually minded his manners, and opened the door for me, but I certainly wasn’t about to complain or question it. He held the door for me again when we reached the entrance of the restaurant, letting me walk through as I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of the gesture. Now, this is what I had been expecting when I had signed up for the Selection, and in the fantasies I had dreamed up as a child.

I didn’t linger on the realization long, as happy as it was. Instead, I took in my surroundings yet again, trying to get a feel for what I was in for. I turned around as Arin followed me in, offering him a smile as I asked, “I’m assuming you’ve been here before?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I have. Don’t worry.” With that, he turned to the maitre d’, stating, “We’d like a table for two, please, and then a table for one.”

As the maitre d’ searched through his podium for something, I glanced at Arin sideways. “Why would I worry?” Did he think my nerves came from dealing with the unfamiliar? This is why you need to open up to him.

Maybe I would.

Later.

He shrugged. “Some people needlessly worry.”

My name was definitely implied in there, somewhere.

I laughed a bit, the sound tinny to my ears. “What would there even be to worry about, in this case?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe it was just a bad turn of phrase.”

I frowned, still looking at him out of the corner of my eye, right as the maitre d’ reappeared, ushering us towards out table. Upon getting there, Arin pulled out my chair, waiting until I was seated to walk around the table to his own chair. To my left, a large glass window gave us a perfect view of the beach, the ocean waves gently lapping against the shore as the sun set in the distance, basking the world in a golden glow.

With a little sigh, I turned back to the table, folding my napkin in my lap and opening my menu. Arin was already two steps ahead of me, his eyes scanning the menu with careful consideration. Seafood had been a staple in my house, but nothing nearly as fancy as what I saw on this menu. Maybe I should’ve been more specific in my description of “seafood.”

“Is there anything in particular you recommend?”

He glance up at me, setting his menu down on the table. “What do you usually like?”

“Salmon is usually my go-to.” My father cooked it almost every sunday for dinner, at home. It was the only thing my mother would allow him to cook in our kitchen, since, according to her, it was the only dish he could cook better than her. Plus, she got a break from cooking, as an added bonus, though she’d never admit that she saw it as such.

“Do you like pasta?” He tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes on me, but not quite staring. Not yet, at least.

“I’ve only had it a few times,” I answered, “but I remember liking it well enough.”

“A few times?” He frowned. “Pasta? That’s what we’re talking about, right?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, laughing a little nervously. “My parents weren’t big pasta chefs, I’m afraid, and we rarely ate out, because getting five young kids to sit still at a dinner table was no easy task for them.”

He nodded slowly, though all it took was one look for me to know that the fact that pasta wasn’t a staple in my household baffled him. “Well, then I recommend the salmon ravioli.”

I tilted my head to the side, having never have heard those two particular foods being combined before. “That sounds good,” I offered, along with a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, along with my apparent pasta ineptitude.”

“You're right, it does. I think I'll have that too.” With that, he closed his menu, setting it on the edge of the table. “Anything to drink?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are we about to test my wine tolerance?”

“We can if you want.”

“As long as it's not a red,” I replied with an amused laugh. Maybe I should make it my goal to drink wine with all of the Schreaves before this all was over. Out of the ones currently in the palace, the only one I was missing was Safiya. The idea was intriguing.

He let out a low chuckle, and then replied, “You can get whatever drink you like.”

“Sauvignon Blanc, then,” I decided after quickly scanning the list of white wines.

He nodded. “Sure, if you'd like. I think I'll have something else though.”

Had he thought I was deciding for the both of us? My eyes went wide, and I shook my head quickly. “No, of course.”

I turned to my left, watching the sunset out the window. Change the subject. Change the subject, Change the subject.

“Random question,” I began, turning back to face him once again, “but what led you to find the book you recommended me?”

“Oh, it was just something I read some years back. I think it’s important to have an understanding of what made Illéa the way it is and to have multiple opinions on controversial subjects,” he answered nonchalantly.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek as I mulled his answer over. “It’s an interesting read, for sure, and has definitely answered a lot of the questions I had. I think it’s just left me a tad frustrated, though.” I shook my head before continuing. “I mean, I know this was a time that my grandparents were alive, but my parents always instructed my siblings and I never to talk about it, but now, especially, I would love to hear what they have to say about it.”

“They may not have wanted to share with you for their own reasons. The war isn't remembered fondly.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“No, I know, and my grandfather was a naval engineer, so…” I trailed off, looking back down at my hands, in my lap, not sure of where I had even been going with that sentence.

Luckily for me, the waiter came back over at that moment, asking us if we were ready to order. After placing our orders, the rest of the night went smoothly. Once the food came, Arin was too distracted to chat, and by the time we had gotten in the car on the way home, it was a struggle for me just to stay awake. I practically collapsed into my bed when we finally got back to the palace, pausing only to change into pajamas and take off my makeup.

I slept soundly, for the first time in a long while.

#selectionoc

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 6 years

Text

Barrio Slums and More Ch. 9

Click Here for Chapter 1

Click Here for Chapter 8

Second part of Arin’s commission!!! Sorry it took so long! I ended up cutting it off at a break aha.

Feedback appreciated– Please reblog!– Let me know if you need translations!

*Remember to go to the Original Post if the READ MORE link doesn’t show!*

OR READ ON AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11558553

The Fourth of July barbecue was supposed to be the coming weekend after Keith’s “disappearance.”

Lance had called Beto and asked to talk to Keith shortly after the group had stopped by his house. Keith’s voice had become sharper despite Lance assuring him that nothing had happened. Keith had gotten in touch with Shiro through Lance the next day and assured him he was okay, but never told what had truly happened. He just kept repeating that he could handle it. Lance went over to Beto’s once more during the week and Keith had still been training. His cuts had healed, but were still very visible. His bruises had diminished enough that Nina could cover them with makeup.

Things at home had become routine again. Daniela would leave for work around nine, Lance would sit and watch cartoons with Emily and Alexia while Jackie and Jorge slept in, he’d make them a quick lunch, before going to help Tia Carla at the restaurant, and then return home at the same time as his mom. Jorge only left his room to eat, and even then would walk out with headphones, refusing to talk. The only time he acknowledged Lance was to let him know he’d watch the girls with Jackie while he worked.

That Friday, Papo and Buela had come over for dinner. He was still gruff and tense, but he was making conversation with Lance. They simply talked about everything except Keith and Lance’s sexuality. As much as it bothered Lance that they danced around it, seemed to want to pretend none of it had happened at all, he also knew that his grandparents had been raised completely different from him. And at their age, it would be near impossible to convince them to think more modernly. He didn’t want to keep arguing with them. For now, he would accept this much.

When Saturday night finally came around, Jorge had gone out with friends, Jackie had gone to see a movie with friends, and Lance had his barbecue. His mother was fine with staying home with the youngest girls, but she did give them each a curfew. Lance would be allowed home the latest, of course, and if any of them had trouble getting home or would be late, she expected a call.

Lance drove over to Beto’s where he was supposed to meet up with Keith and Nina.

Nina looked ridiculously beautiful with her tight curls and simple outfit of jean shorts and a crop top. She had the lithe body of a dancer. She had a natural beauty to her, and now that she had on some makeup, every pretty feature seemed to be enhanced.

Lance couldn’t help but gawk, and could only manage to shut his mouth when Keith jabbed an elbow into his rib. Lance blushed and apologized, but Keith only rolled his eyes.

Keith looked good too. He seemed emotionally and mentally better than he had a week ago, and it seemed to affect him physically too. He had on a thin black, long-sleeved shirt with torn black jeans and boots. The black on black was just something that Lance was always weak for, and had he topped it off with a leather jacket, Lance would’ve fainted right there. It was almost unfair that there were such beautiful people in the world.

And Lance got to go to this party with both of them.

“Okay, so I’m supposed to play your date, right? So flirty and stuff?”

Lance shrugged. “I mean, if you want. I just said I had a date. Whether you want to seem interested is your choice.”

“Don’t forget, your name is Selena tonight,” Keith added from the backseat.

“Her song was on!” Lance whined. “Whatever. Yeah, it’s Selena.”

Nina chuckled and nodded. “Okay. Well, we wanna make you look good, so I’ll pretend I’m into you too. Oh, and Keith, we can have like a little sign. So I know if I should reign it in or if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Lance glanced up at the rearview to gauge his reaction. Keith was blushing, that much he could tell. “Um, yeah. Sure,” he answered. “I mean, I don’t really think…. Um. Okay well, what kind of sign?”

“I dunno. Like… rub your nose or a code word.”

“I can just text you.”

“That works!”

Lance chuckled to himself and shook his head. “On another note…. Keith?” His violet eyes glanced up to meet Lance’s in the rearview. “You gonna be okay?”

He nodded, his expression absolute. “I’ve got this. I’m done running.” Lance nodded and looked back at the road, biting his tongue. A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’ll be okay, Lance. Really.”

Every fiber of his being was telling Lance to make a U-turn and suggest a night in with movies and popcorn instead. But this wasn’t his battle. And knowing Keith, he’d find a way here anyway. As he pulled in to Shiro’s, he saw the familiar figures of Keith’s friends, as well as Allura. He didn’t see Michael, but he wasn’t that close.

“You guys go first. I don’t want them to know you were hiding me.” Lance sighed and nodded.

“If anything happens, or if you just want to go-”

Keith lurched forward to grab Lance by the shoulders. “Lance. Please relax.” He let his hands slip until he was holding Lance’s. “I’ve thought of every possible thing that could happen tonight, and I’m prepared.”

“I just don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish here. What’s the point of showing up at a party?”

“He won’t do anything to me here.” His eyes flitted to Nina who pretended to be busy on her phone. “It’ll give him time to cool off. I’ll go home and get my stuff and I’ll break up with him. I’ll be able to defend myself, I’ll get back to Beto’s, and… I’ll be okay.” He shrugged. “If we’re lucky he won’t even come here.”

Lance still didn’t feel good about this. Going to a party felt like the most ridiculous thing to do after everything. Still, he knew Keith also missed his friends. They hadn’t heard from him for a long time either.

Suddenly, Lance felt Keith’s lips on his cheek. “Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are. But I have to do this. With or without you.”

Lance rolled his eyes. He knew that much about Keith; he was a stubborn guy that didn’t back down because something was hard. “I know. So I’d rather be here as it is.”

“Good. Now let’s go have some fun, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Nina.” She looked over with a raised eyebrow. “Make him look good,” he said with a smirk. She smiled and gave him a fist bump.

“Pft, I always look good,” Lance muttered as he got out of the car. “I’ll lock it once you get over there.” Keith nodded and sat back as Lance and Nina walked over to the others. Nina wrapped her arm around his middle and moved Lance’s hand to rest across her shoulders.

As they approached the grill, the other’s smiled and greeted him. Hunk hugged him then shook Nina’s hand. “You’re Selena, right?” Lance fought the urge to grimace. Nina nodded. “I’m Hunk. It’s great to meet you. This is Katie. We call her Pidge. That’s Shiro, and that’s Allura. You guys want a beer?”

“I’ll take a Corona,” she answered.

“I’m good,” Lance said. He looked at Pidge who was tossing back a can of beer. “Why are you drinking?”

She raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Dude, I’m 17.”

Lance’s eyes went wide and bit his lip. “Holy shit, I thought you were like, 12 or something.”

She grimaced. “Yeah I get that a lot. Hunk, bring me another, please!” she called over her shoulder. “Oh, here’s some fold out chairs.”

Lance thanked her and sat down. He expected Nina to sit in the other, but she sat in his lap instead, which made Lance blush. He took a moment to regain his composure. “Have you guys heard from Keith?” he asked.

“No. We’re hoping he’ll show up tonight. I keep telling Shiro to file a missing person’s, but he says Keith will come back when he’s ready. Michael has just about torn up their place trying to get a clue on finding him.”

Nina decided to play dumb and asked, “Who’s Keith? Did he run away?”

“He’s our friend,” Hunk said, coming back with the drinks. “Yeah he… sort of did.”

“Why?”

Everyone shared a look. “We’re not entirely sure,” Hunk finally said.

“Well, people usually run away from something. That might be important to know if you want him to come back.” She shrugged innocently and wrapped her arms around Lance’s neck, leaning her head on his shoulder. Lance tried not to squirm.

Before long, Allura and Pidge started a conversation with Nina while Shiro flipped some pieces of sweet-smelling ribs that Hunk had prepared. Hunk sat with them, occasionally helping Shiro.

“Lance, how did you meet Selena?”

Lance stared at Allura, opened mouthed and racked his brain. He never thought to think up stories, and now he wasn’t sure what to say.

Thankfully, Nina came to the rescue. “Lance, don’t be so shy,” she giggled. “He was in the female hygiene aisle at the store. He looked so lost, I went to ask if he needed help. He was buying some stuff for his sister since she’s really shy about it.” Pidge and Allura hummed, sharing a look like they knew exactly what Nina was talking about. “It was so sweet, I couldn’t help but keep talking to him. I kept implying I wanted his number, but he didn’t get it.”

“Oh God, Lance,” Allura chuckled good-naturedly.

Lance managed a chuckle and laughed. “Hey, she’s here with me now, isn’t she? I had enough charm to get this far.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hunk laughed.

“Oh my God.” Shiro’s tongs clattered, and everyone looked over to see what had distraught him.

Keith was walking up, hands shoved in his pockets and a shy smile on his face. “Hey, everyone.”

Shiro was the first one to pull him into a hug. Keith looked surprised, but he managed a soft chuckle. The others followed suit, even Lance.

“Dude where the hell have you been? We were worried sick,” Pidge said. “You could have called us or something!”

“I had some stuff to figure out.”

“Michael’s been looking all over for you,” Hunk said gently.

Keith’s expression soured. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

That made the others hesitate and share looks with each other as Keith grabbed a beer. He looked at Nina and said, “Lance, you’re being rude. Who’s the lovely lady?”

Lance sputtered and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, this is- Selena. She’s my…. Um.”

Nina nudged him and took his hand. “You could say girlfriend if you just asked,” she said, scooting closer to him.

The others whooped and egged him on, but Lance was looking at Keith, gauging his reaction. Keith simply smirked, raising his eyebrows, as if to say What are you waiting for, doofus?

Lance chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Girlfriend…. If that’s cool?” It was a question directed at Keith. He smiled a little wider and winked so quickly, Lance wasn’t sure if it was just a twitch.

Nina threw her arms around Lance and giggled. “Of course it is.” She turned his head, hand at his cheek and brought him down. Lance panicked, certain that a kiss was much too far. Then he realized there was a thumb between their lips. Nina had place her hand so it looked like a normal kiss and allowed her thumb to intervene just before their lips met. Her head was tilted slightly so the others couldn’t tell, but they were too busy laughing and whooping and applauding anyway.

She pulled back and they sat back down. Lance saw Nina pull out her phone, typing a quick text.

No worries it was fake! Stage-kiss w/ thumb.

He glanced at Keith who was at the grill by Shiro. He noticed him check his phone and shake his head. A new message appeared on Nina’s screen.

Lol its cool. Ur doing great. So cute together ;))

Lance rolled his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

After a while, Lance started feeling more comfortable. He wasn’t so tense. There was no sign of Michael, Nina had easily assimilated to the group, Keith and Nina communicated over text and he didn’t seem bothered by the façade at all (though he did ask she refrain from kissing his cheek because that was their thing), and Lance even felt like this wasn’t a group of people he’d only met a few weeks ago. It was so easy, so fun, so silly.

Although they drank, no one was getting stupid drunk, the food was fucking delicious and not at all what Lance was accustomed to which made it fun. They even got in the pool, though Keith stayed out, claiming to keep Pidge, who was the only other person who didn’t want to get in, company.

Then the sound of a revving engine turned everyone’s attention to the driveway. Lance noticed Keith tense. Nina touched his shoulder gently, questioningly. A figure walked over, and it wasn’t long before Lance recognized Michael.

“Who called him?” Allura whispered.

“I didn’t,” Hunk swore. Shiro shook his head. Pidge glanced at Keith, a worried furrow in her eyebrows. At least, Lance thought, his friends seemed to be catching on.

“So none of you thought to tell me that my boyfriend came back?” he spat. He turned to face Keith and sighed, walking over to him, pulling him up. “Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? Where were you? It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” His hands cupped his face and Lance’s stomach lurched as he watched Michael pull Keith into a kiss. Every word dripped with fake sincerity, and it made Lance’s hands shake angrily.

Nina’s hand gripped one of his, squeezing, reminding him to calm down.

“Michael, man, let me get you some food, yeah?” Hunk said as he got out of the pool. Michael wrapped an arm around Keith and followed Hunk. But it was… strange. He walked slightly ahead of Keith, making the gesture seem more controlling than loving. Keith had yet to say a word.

Pidge neared the pool and sighed. “Keith messaged him. He asked for my phone and sent him a text a while ago.”

“Then maybe he wasn’t running from Michael?” Allura whispered. Lance noticed Shiro look over at him, but Lance was busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that Keith had been the one to ask Michael to arrive. He gulped and took a breath to steady himself.

“Let’s get out of the pool. At least be sure Keith’s alright,” Shiro said. They regrouped at the lawn chairs. Nina sat on Lance’s lap again, and this time he was grateful for it. It kept him from standing and trying to get Keith away from the manipulative fuck across from him.

It was sickening to watch Michael treat Keith like he gave a shit, like he hadn’t been the one who had injured Keith so badly, he was nearly unrecognizable. Just remembering the night Lance had picked him up made him have to shut his eyes a few times to calm down. This was not his fight.

He wasn’t sure what Keith was trying to do. He hadn’t smiled or spoken to the others yet. But he allowed Michael to hold his hand and answered his questions in whispers, his lips barely moving, and didn’t seem to be anxious to move away. His eyes flitted to Lance now and then, guarded and levelled.

It wasn’t until Shiro suggested they start setting up fireworks that Lance noticed anything wrong.

The group had gone to the front of the house to set up fireworks in the street. Lance had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and when he was on his way back, he found Michael and Keith near the cooler of drinks.

With the music shut off and the earlier conversations farther away, Lance could understand more on what they were saying.

“With a friend.”

“Who?” Keith remained quiet and Michael gripped his arm tightly enough to yank him forward. “Who? That scrawny little shit with the beard? He can’t fool me, I know he wants you. I know-”

“Jesus, would you shut the fuck-”

Michael’s swing happened quicker than Lance could process, making Keith cower back with a hand at his cheek. He’d managed a grip on Keith’s neck, forcing him back against the tool shed.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from him,” Lance shouted, moving forward. He didn’t care if this wasn’t his business. Keith wouldn’t keep getting hurt.

Suddenly Keith kicked out and Michael buckled, letting Keith drop to the floor. He scrambled away and tried to push Lance back. “Lance, stay out of it, please.”

Michael yanked him back and eyed Lance. “You heard him, puppy. Stay out of things that don’t concern you.”

“Listen, you piece of shit-”

Keith shook himself free and stepped forward, hands on Lance’s chest. “Please, just let it go. I’ve got this.” Lance looked at him in shock, but Keith’s expression was resolute.

“No. No, he’s just going to keep hurting you. You don’t deserve this shit, Keith.” He placed his hands on his arms tugging gently, begging him to get away. “Come on-”

Suddenly there was a hand on Lance’s wrist, twisting his arm in a way that made Lance scream as he pulled away. “Didn’t Mommy teach you to keep your hands off other people’s things,” he snarled, shoving Keith back with one hand.

Lance felt his vision go red. This asshole didn’t even see Keith as a person. He was a thing. An object. For Michael, Keith was something he owned, something he could do whatever he wanted to with no regards for Keith. He wasn’t trying to keep his boyfriend to himself, he was trying to keep a plaything. He dehumanized Keith and still had the guts to pretend like he was a caring boyfriend in front of everyone else.

Lance wasn’t sure how he’d ended up on the ground with this guy, swinging without any technique, grasping at his clothes to maneuver his way around. He couldn’t even feel the impact of the hits he was given or the ones he gave. Everything was muted and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, all he felt was the shaking numbness coursing through his limbs.

It wasn’t until he felt a solid punch in the nose that he became vaguely aware of screaming and a ringing in his ears.

Suddenly Michael was hauled off of him and Lance felt someone pull him up into a sitting position. He was vaguely aware of Nina asking him if he was okay. He hauled himself up to stand and his eyes finally found Keith.

He was straddling Michael, hitting him over and over again, but there were tears streaking his face. Shiro managed to pull him back, but he was still struggling to land a hit. “No more. No more!” Keith shouted after him. “I’m done. I’m done letting you push me around.” He turned to his friends, looking afraid. Until his eyes fell on Lance. “You guys wanna know why I ran off?” He pulled off his shirt and stood up. Lance saw Allura and Pidge gasp as the leftover scars from Keith’s injuries were exposed. “This is why,” he croaked. “Because he did this to me. Because this piece of shit spends his free time whipping me, beating me until I can’t move and then pretending that I’m the psychopath! Because he’s nearly fucking killed me because I wanted to break up with him. Because every time he comes to ‘visit,’ he’s just finding excuses to beat me and it’s never enough for him.”

Michael started for him. “Keith, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Hunk stepped in front of him. “You need to go,” he growled. “Now.”

“Hunk, come on, you know me.”

Hunk shook his head, eyes filled with disgust. Lance scrambled over to Keith, pulling him into his arms. He was shaking so much, that Nina had to help Lance lift him up off the ground. Shiro and Hunk managed to get Michael to leave. Pidge and Allura each brought ice for Lance and tissues for Keith. Hunk and Shiro returned, staying close but wordless.

Only Lance talked, holding Keith close, assuring him he was okay. Keith touched his new injuries lightly, eyes filled with horror, but Lance took his hand and assured him he was fine.

“Wanna go home?” Nina whispered. Keith nodded, still shaking, eyes on the floor.

Hunk touched Keith’s wrist gently to stop him. “Keith…. I’m so sorry. I’m so-” Hunk burst into tears, and it wasn’t a sight Lance ever wanted to see again. “It’s my fault, Keith. I should’ve never-”

“No it’s not,” Keith answered, sounding appalled. His voice was hoarse. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t know. You didn’t do anything.” Hunk shook his head and engulfed Keith in a hug, apologizing over and over.

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s give Keith some time to breathe and rest. Lance, do you mind taking us wherever he’s staying tomorrow? I think we should all talk, if that’s okay, Keith.” Keith nodded and wiped his face.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m gonna get them back though.”

The three of them walked back to the car and they drove over to Beto’s. As soon as the door opened, Beto’s eyes widened. “Shit, cuz what happened to your face?” he yelped. “Puta madre, the hell did you do?”

“He fought Keith’s ex,” Nina supplied.

“Ex?” Keith nodded and offered a small smile. Beto smiled and nodded. “Good.” He looked at Nina and gestured over to the couch. “Danny’s here by the way.”

Her eyes lit up and she walked over to the couch. “Manito!”

Beto looked back at Keith and Lance. “I wanna ask, but you look like you could use some rest, vato.” Keith nodded again and Beto gestured over to the hallway.

Lance walked with Keith to the room he was staying in. There was an inflatable mattress on the floor and a few worn boxes across the room. It looked like Beto had been using it for meaningless storage and stuffed a bed in it. Which he probably had.

“Could you… stay for a bit?” Keith whispered. Lance nodded and followed him to the inflatable bed, careful when he sat. “You’re an idiot, you know?” Lance blinked and looked over at him. There was a smile on his face, which told him he didn’t mean it maliciously. “You shouldn’t have fought him. But I don’t think I’d have gotten the guts to tell the truth if you hadn’t.” He sniffed and leaned onto Lance’s shoulder.

“Pidge said you messaged him.”

Keith nodded. “I wanted him to be there. I wanted to confront him. I wanted to be able to break up with him tonight.” He gulped and seemed to struggle to breathe. “Stay with me. Please.”

“Of course,” Lance murmured. Keith pulled him so they laid on the bed, facing each other, draped with a soft, black blanket. “You’re safe, Keith.”

Keith nodded and took a breath as he shut his eyes. Lance fell asleep rubbing circles into his back.

He woke up when Keith jerked in his arms and sat up gasping. Lance sat up, but Keith panicked and backed away from him, plopping onto the ground, tugging the blanket with him.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey!” Lance whispered. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Keith took a moment to take in his surroundings and nodded. “Let’s go get some air, yeah?” Again Keith nodded. He followed Lance out of the room, their hands intertwined. The apartment was dark. Beto was asleep. Nina and the other boy, Danny, must have gone home. Lance opened the door to the patio and let Keith go first. They were still in the clothes they’d taken to the barbecue.

Keith leaned his arms on the railing and ran a hand through his hair. “I had a nightmare. He’d come to find me. Kept saying he’d kill me…. Hit me and tossed me down the stairs.” Lance shivered because even if it was just a nightmare, it could very well be a reality. “I don’t… really know what to do anymore,” he whispered. “For a long time, I was just focused on finding a way out. Now that I did… what am I supposed to do? Where do I go? Where can I go that he won’t find me? What if he sees me with you and tries to hurt you again?”

Lance walked over to him and turned him away from the street to face him. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ll take it one step at a time. Right now though, you’re free.”

Keith blinked and a slow smile began to spread on his face. “Free,” he repeated. “How do you say that in Spanish?”

“Libre.” Keith hummed. “You want to learn a few more? Get your mind off of things?” Keith took a breath and nodded. Lance began reciting one of his favorite songs as a child. “Pollito- chicken. Gallina- hen. Lápiz- pencil. Pluma-”

Keith started laughing and he tilted his head. “Are you teaching me or singing to me?”

Lance rolled his eyes and interlocked their hands. “Okay, okay. These are simple, you’ve learned them before. Let’s see if you remember. Ventana.”

“Window,” Keith answered.

“Puerta.”

“Door.”

“Maestro.”

He paused and grimaced. “Something….”

Lance snorted and moved on. “Y piso?”

“Mm… floor.”

Lance nodded and smiled. “Three out of four. You passed. Wanna learn more?” Keith nodded, looking into his eyes with his own smile. He looked so… unreal in the moonlight. His black clothes and hair struggled to distinguish themselves from the night, but his eyes shone. It was like he was looking at his own personal galaxy. Lance recalled the day before, how small he seemed under Michael’s grasp, how distraught he’d been when he’d finally exposed Michael for what he was. “Calor is heat. Azul is blue…. Dolor is pain.”

Keith bit his lip, his eyes returning to the street. “What about to say, ‘hug me?’”

“Abrázame.” Keith nodded and repeated it as he slipped his hands around Lance. Biting his lip, Lance hugged him back, holding him tightly.

“Hey, Lance?” He hummed, rocking gently on his feet so they swayed as they hugged. “How do you say ‘kiss me?’”

Lance gulped and pulled his head back, arms still around him. He looked at Keith, and even in the moonlight he could tell he was blushing. “Bésame,” he whispered.

“Well, if you insist,” Keith said with a smirk. His hands slid behind Lance neck and pulled him forward.

It was simple. Their lips pressed together, eyes shut. Lance felt his entire body spark, the adrenaline stronger than what he’d felt during the fight. He was so distracted by what the kiss caused his heart to do, that he wasn’t even paying attention to the kiss itself.

Not until Keith pulled back enough to make the air feel cold on their lips and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. Can you at least kiss me like you mean it?” Lance chuckled and cupped his face before pulling him into a kiss far more fervid than their first.

Everything about it was new and clumsy and beautiful. Lance hadn’t kissed someone like this in a long time. He tilted his head, drowning in the bliss he felt as their lips clashed, as he gasped for air between the moments of biting Keith’s lips and tasting his mouth. He pressed himself closer, wanting to be completely enveloped in the warmth of Keith’s being.

He didn’t miss the small moan that reverberated from Keith’s throat to his lips. He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed him. Even as the kiss ended, it ended in several smaller kisses, like neither of them really wanted to stop- which they didn’t.

“Whoa,” Keith breathed, looking at him with flushed cheeks, glistening lips, and dazed eyes. He was beautiful. “That was worth the wait.” Lance smiled widely, bumping their noses together. “I want to stay in this moment. Right now. When it’s the middle of the night and everyone’s asleep and no one gives a shit whether we kiss or not and I’m not scared and it’s just us.”

“I’ll kiss you when the sun rises,” Lance whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone where, a week ago, there had been a dark purple bruise. “And as it moves across the sky.” He kissed the corner of his lip, where there was a fading scar. “And when it sets again.” He kissed his jaw which had sported a yellowed bruise just a few days ago still. “And all through the night. For as long as you want me to.”

Keith laughed, his hands playing with Lance’s hair. “Wow. You’re a total romantic, aren’t you?” Lance stuck his tongue out at him, but Keith simply took him by the chin and kissed him. “I don’t care what happens or who cares about us once the sun rises. As long as you’re with me.”

Lance smiled, responding with another, softer kiss. “Te lo prometo.”

Lance and Keith had returned to the air mattress after a few more kisses in the summer night heat. Even as they laid down, they were pressing lazy kisses to whatever skin they could touch- a nose, the bow of a lip, fingers, knuckles, a forehead.

Lance had fallen asleep to those kisses and he couldn’t imagine a better way.

But he had woken up to a harsh opening of the door. “Dude, what the hell?” He sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily as Keith sat up with a gasp. “Pendejo, your jefa’s been calling me since like four in the morning.”

“Wh- Oh fuck.” He patted his pockets for his phone but came up empty. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He scrambled out of the bed, confused when he saw some guy sitting at the table with a coffee, scrolling through his phone. But he didn’t have time for introductions. He dashed to his car, fumbling and searching. He found his phone in the space between the door and the driver’s seat. It had five percent left, and he found ten missed calls from his mom and a few from Jackie. He looked at the text previews.

Mami: Call me. Now. (2)

Jackie: Mom’s pissed where the hell are…. (3)

“Fuck,” he breathed. He tried to send a text back, but halfway through, the phone shut off. He went back inside and gratefully took a cup of juice from Beto. “I’m so fucked, man. I totally forgot to call her. Shit.”

“You needa go home, menso.” He grabbed Lance’s keys and tossed them over. “She’s gonna freak when she sees your face, todo puteado.”

“Beto, you gonna introduce me or not?” came the voice from the dining table.

Beto sighed and gestured. “This is my cousin Lance. That’s Nina’s brother, Danny.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Lance said. “Where’s Keith?”

“Over here,” he yawned from the couch. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain to my mom, it’ll be fine. I’ll call later, okay?”

Keith nodded, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he leaned up to kiss him. “Be careful.” Lance nodded and smiled, a little of the panic simmering down at Keith’s touch.

Lance walked toward the door and Beto followed after him. “Someone got busy last night,” he chuckled.

“Nah, it’s not like that,” Lance said. “Just made out.” Beto snorted. “Whatever I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Beto laughed and clapped him on the back. “Whatever you say, primo. Let me know if you die because of Tia Dani.” Lance rolled his eyes and got in his car.

As he parked the car in front of the house, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. All he’d needed to do was call. Instead, he let his mother worry for the entire night. He got out and went into the house. His brother, sisters, and mom were all in the living room.

“Jackie, take the girls,” Daniela said, eyes locked on Lance. Jackie sighed and took Emily and Alexia by the hand to the backyard. Daniela stood up and walked over to Lance. “Donde chingados estabas?”

“Ma, I know I should’ve called, but Keith-”

She held up her hand to silence him. “No. I’m done hearing your excuses, carajo. You listen to me. I gave you one simple rule- call if you’re late. And what do you do? You stay out the whole damn night without ever once thinking to call or send a text!”

“I forg-”

“Estoy hablando yo, cállate.” She fixed him with an angry expression. “Do you realize how hard it is for me to raise five kids on my own? Primero tu,” she said, looking at Jorge. “Going off to parties and getting drugged up. Then you start talking back and shutting us out.” Jorge rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “And you!” Lance grimaced as she pointed at him. “You drop out of college, and you hide it for months! Instead of coming to your family like you should! Don’t you realize we’re here to help? Y pa’ acabarla de joder, you come back saying you’re figuring out a way back in, but all you’ve been doing is going after this boy. All night, Lance! You were gone all night! I didn’t know if you got in an accident, or if there was a drive by, or if you’d decided to just run away-”

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Ma.”

“Do I? Because I’m starting to feel like I don’t know either of you.” Lance took a sharp breath and clenched his jaw. “Since when do you disappear and come back with a black eye? Now what the hell happened to your face?”

Lance sighed and swallowed. “I got in a fight with Keith’s boyf- um, ex-boyfriend.”

His mother stared at him with no expression, and it was honestly terrifying. His mother was a woman of expression. Anger, joy, sadness, it was all easily discerned on Daniela’s face. Now though she seemed completely void of any emotion. And then-

“You are not to see that boy again.”

“Mom!”

“Not until you get your shit together and show me that you’ve either been accepted to start college again or you have an actual full-time job!” she shouted over him. “Jorge thinks I favor you. Really, I just thought you were an adult and capable of handling yourself. You proved me wrong, mijo.”

Jorge snickered and she turned to him. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for your friend to drive you back here with you stumbling over yourself? Hijo de la chingada, ya me tienes hasta aqui! You are grounded! No phone, no more parties.”

“Oh, please, how do you plan to do that? You’re barely even here,” Jorge answered.

“Because I’m working my ass off!” she snapped back. “I’m getting your buela to come watch you and if you give her a hard time, so help me I will look into the military school those people on TV always talk about.”

Jorge looked tired and annoyed. “Whatever.” He got up and went to his room, slamming the door for good measure.

“I can’t look at you right now. Go.” Lance wanted to stay. To explain himself, to talk to his mother. But he knew she wasn’t in the mood for it. And she was kind of right. Lately, Lance had completely forgotten about reapplying to schools. He was so panicked about the stupid party. He started for his room, but she stopped him. “Ah-ah. Phone. You don’t seem to use it anyway.” It felt so juvenile, and after so long on his own, Lance felt ridiculous giving into his mother’s child punishments. But he did anyway.

He went to his room and paced around, looking at the posters on the wall and the books on a shelf. He opened his computer and sighed, as he started redrafting a letter to the admissions team at his college. He looked into applying to others as well. He found himself looking into the community college and U of H, despite not applying there originally.

It wasn’t that these were bad schools. It’s the fact that his goal had always been to get the hell out. To leave Houston and make something of himself like his buela said he would. He’d worked so hard, purposefully avoiding applications to Houston universities to ensure he got away. He loved his family, but he needed to figure who he was. He needed to be on his own.

Lot of good it did him in the end.

The only thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was looking into applying now. Was it to stay with his family for help? Or for Keith…? Could he live with himself if he stayed?

#klance #tw: abuse #yes this is inspired and based off in the heights leave me alone lol #keith x lance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #VOLTRON #vld #au

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lululucass · 7 years

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LucasxOC- Eye On the Prize

I wrote Lucas x Oc fic. I am trash, what am I doing anymore? To be honest this isn’t exactly how I wanted the fic to go. I just got so unsure as I went on and I kept wondering if I should write it as a oc or reader fic. Sighs. Maybe I’ll rewrite it.

Hiding inside a closet in the middle of a decrepit house in the middle of a bayou was not how Arin expected to spend her day, but here she was. What had started as a terrible day had quickly escalated into what could only be described as a large pile of cow dung.

First her car broke down in the middle of nowhere Louisiana. Second she got lost in the swamp while trying to find any form of human life. Third and by far the worst she got kidnapped by cannibalistic rednecks. She thought that stuff only happened in movies but apparently not.

She had awoken tied to a chair and forced to eat... she wasn't sure what it was but it definitely was not food. At some point during dinner the family had gotten into a fight. The mother, Marguerite going into hysterics when you vomited. The father, Jack, chased her around yelling at her to calm down. And the son, Lucas, the bastard threw some food at her and giggled madly at Arin when she cursed him out. "Your gonna be fun to play with." Lucas had said. "What does that mean?" Arin had asked him. Only before Lucas could reply Jack had returned to the room. His face was one of pure anger. He cussed at his son and grabbed Lucas by the arm with one hand, with the other Jack grabbed a knife. "Don't you waste your Momma's cooking, boy." Jack said and swiftly lopped his own son's hand off. Lucas sighed exasperated. However Arin let out a strangled shriek. What was wrong with this family? Jack left the room muttering something about Lucas needing to learn respect, still holding his son's hand. Lucas had trailed after his father asking for his hand back. With the entire family gone, save for grandma, Arin started to test her restraints. She managed to wiggle free from her bonds and booked it out of the dining room. She felt bad leaving the grandma by herself but she seemed safe for the moment. It wasn't long before she heard Jack's familiar yelling that alerted her that he had discovered her escape. As Arin was running around the house it was then that she discovered the other inhabitants in the house. The large charred moldy-looking creatures. One had swung at her, nearly hitting her. She let out a loud yelp while trying to avoid it. Unlucky for her she had alerted someone to her location. With quick thinking she had been able to slip past the molded and had hidden in the closet.

And that was how she got into her current predicament. Hiding in a closet, her heart beating erratically as she listened out for any signs of life. It was quiet. Taking in a deep breath to steal herself, Arin opened the door and took a quick peak around. No one was there. Arin let out the breath and walked out the closet. Now she had to get out of here. She figured she could possibly retrace her steps back from where she came. The hardest part would be getting out- She walked into a chest. Arin tried to back away but felt two arms grabbing her upper arms and caging her. "Well hey there--Hmm I don't think I caught yer name before?" It was Lucas's voice but it couldn't be him, his father had cut of his one hand and this guy definitely had two. Arin looked up to see it was indeed Lucas. How did he get a new hand? "How the hell-" Arin started but Lucas shushed her. "Yer name?" Lucas asked again. "A-Arin." She answered. "Great. You like games Arin?" Lucas asked. She nodded although she was sure she wouldn't like his types of games. "Great because have I got a game for you. And you even get a prize if you win, and I do hope you win." He smiled then. Despite her situation Arin couldn't help but think how handsome he looked when he smiled. Where had that thought come from? Of all times to be ogling a guy right now was not it. She shook her head and tried to steady herself. "What kind of game we talking?" Arin asked. "Uh-uh." Lucas said putting a finger against her lips. "I don't do spoilers."

Arin found herself being dragged from the house to what used to be a barn but now had a gate around it and party lights. The hell was up with this guy? Arin followed Lucas up some steps to a door. "Ladies first." Lucas said, stepping out of the way. Arin gave him a strange look before entering the room. The door shut fast behind her. Arin quickly turned to try the handle. It was locked. Of course. She let out a long sigh. Let the game begin. A cursory look around the room showed it was pretty much empty except for a chair and a TV. Arin went up to it and it turned on to Lucas' face on the screen. "So what's the game?" Arin asked. "You sure are impatient, aren't ya?" Lucas said. "It's nothin' too hard just a test of skill. Under the chair is a gun, yer gonna need it." He let out a quick chuckle and the TV turned off. Arin had half expected the TV to explode. She reached under the chair and pulled out a handgun. She wasn't sure what make or model. She had used a gun before a few times when her father took her hunting or to the shooting range but that was with a rifle, but guns weren't of much interest to her. She silently thanked her father and headed toward the door on her right. She started on her way but stopped when she noticed a thin line spanning from one wall to the other. The bastard put a trip wire. Arin smirked and backed away slightly. He wasn't getting her that easily. She picked up a small plank and threw it at the wire. The thing exploded sending the black flying backwards. Arin's eyes widened. It was actually rigged? "Woo you have got a good eye." Lucas' voice came out from an overhead speaker. "Are you freaking serious right now." Arin said. Arin went along with the game however, she knew she had no choice. Besides she had a feeling she'd rather deal with Lucas than Jack or Marguerite. Going through the building she found trip wires weren't the only danger here. The molded were also in the barn. Arin had found that out the hard way when when smacked her backwards into a trip wire which then blew her forward. Lucky her it wasn't powerful enough to kill her, it just hurt. A lot. Thankfully the explosion did the molded in. Finally she got to a wire door with a keypad. A speaker crackled. "That shit yer carrying, get rid of it." Arin groaned exasperated but complied. Putting the handgun, ammo and everything else she had found in the chest in the middle of the room. This time Lucas told her the code and she entered it and walked into the pitch black room with cautious steps. She was sort of surprised that Lucas was being so helpful right now- A throat cleared behind her. Arin spun around just as Lucas slammed the door closed. "Have a nice day!" Lucas called out. Arin could only watch as he sauntered back to who knows where. Arin definitely did not stand there and stare at Lucas' butt as he walked out. Looks like she was stuck in this dark room with the creepy clown. She walked over to the clown and tentatively plucked the candle from its grasp. At least now she had some light so she could see. She walked around checking the room out. There didn't seem to be any immediate danger. She saw under a archway was a birthday cake with some candles she walked over to it. As she passed the archway she got sprayed down with water. "Yeah I needed a bath right now." Arin muttered. The lights turned on, thankfully. "Alright, let's play a little game. All you gotta do is light the candle and put it on the cake." "You gotta be kidding me." Arin groaned. She walked out of the room only to be showered again. That was going to be a problem, but she had an idea that might work. Just to light the candle. Arin tried the stove and cried out in joy when it turned on. She sat down and pulled her boot off. Standing up again, boot in one hand, candle in the other she lit the candle and used her boot to shield it. She walked under the archway, promptly getting soaked for a third time and lifted her boot off the candle. To her luck it was still lit. She did a quick jig to get her boot back on without sitting down and sat the candle down with the others. 'Got a light?' "Fuck yeah I do." Arin said triumphantly. The sudden realization that the cake was ticking hit her like a ton of bricks. The small explosion also hit Arin like a ton of bricks. She landed flat on her back, her head colliding with the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut in pain. She heard laughing coming from above and opened one eye to see Lucas crouching over her. "Normally I'd be mad that someone cheated but I like you so I'll forgive you." Lucas said. "Do I get my prize?" Arin asked. She wasn't sure why she was thinking of that of all things, maybe to distract him from any other tricks he had. Lucas looked down at Arin and licked his lips. "Oh yeah you do and I get mine."

#Lucas Baker #I had such high hopes for this at first #but now I feel lack luster about it so I didn't even profread #Maybe I'll ask for some ideas or prompts later #This was also originally gonna be shorter and get into some smut cus why not?

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wishingfornever · 6 years

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10/21/17 – No Contact: Concrete Box

I had a dream about eggs. I was trying to cook four fried eggs at the same time. A lot of problems I was having. Wouldn’t call it a nightmare, but it wasn’t the best case scenario. That’s what I’m needing right now.

That said, Shane told me he was deleting his Facebook. I asked why but I already knew why. The drama between me, Esther, and Dennis. Let’s just call it SED, though it should probably be DES or EDS because I should be last because grammar has laws, apparently.

However, SED is appropriate because it’s all he SED she SED bullshit. See what I mean?

Been talking to Ariel a lot more. Which is nice. As I write this, know it is almost 5 in the afternoon. Basically spent the whole day talking to her and I woke up before 11am. Short post today, it seems like. Maybe in a week, I’ll start missing days.

It’s a good thing. Today, I was thinking how everything could have been settled had Dennis or Esther just spoken to me sooner. Both were afraid of me for separate reasons. I find it insulting, really. Like… I’m responsible for my own words, but this misunderstanding shouldn’t go unnoticed. Dennis and Esther refused to speak with me. My only view into their world was what Shane told me.

So, yeah. It was skewed. It’s why I panicked.

Had they just joined me and Daniel for dinner, then they’d have seen I was ready to forgive and forget. Of course, I still harbored some agitation towards Dennis but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. When he said, “I don’t know what to say” he should have said something more. He should have confronted me saying, “Listen… the thing with Esther.” Even if he wasn’t going to apologize, he should have tried to clear the air.

But they didn’t. Esther and Dennis were too afraid of me. Why? Esther has a reason. I get angry, but I never yelled at her since this all started. Dennis said he was afraid of me with my guns but Daniel could have confirmed that I’m not armed. Honestly, I’m pro-gun. However, I’m not sure I like guns. Supposed to wear ear protection but they’re still incredibly loud.

No. If I were to murder Dennis, I’d use a knife. It’s quick, it’s easier, and it would prove the point that I’m angry and this is personal.

That’s if I were to murder him. Obviously he is still alive as of the time of writing this. I’d have a lot more problems if he had died.

Anyways… I promised I’d talk about Ariel, didn’t I? Well, fuck. I’m… really tired. Like, I need to do the dishes for tomorrow. Also… cut some spinach, too. Might do that first. Then dishes. As for Ariel… I’ll talk about her tomorrow.

I know, I know. I’m a piece of shit. I swear, I’ll tell you more about her tomorrow. I’m just so tired. But I’ll go to bed early tonight. I’ll get my sleeping schedule up to par and then I’ll be more available to do EVERYTHING because life is ran by the fucking daywalkers. >:C

I’m more nocturnal than anything else. I know this because that’s when I get my best ideas. Or maybe that’s when I’m the most crazy.

Doesn’t matter. I need to do dishes. I’ll be back later.

Before I go, know I had to go out to get avocados. When I came back, the garage door was locked. I was basically stuck in the garage, texting my cousin and trying to get her to open the door and let me in. Thing is, she was asleep. I had to call her.

Not sure if you realize this, but it can get quite hot. Being stuck in that garage, I realized that heat. It sucked. I didn’t lose my temperature, I was just miserable for a little while. It wasn’t that bad but Adela said I’d have a code. Unfortunately, I don’t have a code yet. Whatever. I’ll be fine. I’m just tired. Not that grumpy, surprisingly. Possibly good thing?

Idk.

Finished with the spinach and dishes. I had several cops of water. Strangely, that seemed to have woken me up. Almost like I had a cup of coffee instead of three cups of water. It’s a weird concept. Maybe I wasn’t tired, just dehydrated. I’m tired now but I found the energy to get my chores done. Energy well spent, maybe.

I have a confession to make. Being vegetarian… I actually had a burger today. I could make a bunch of dumb excuses like how the night before I saw the video where Arin from Game Grumps goes to the main hub of Wendy’s and tries all these really delicious burgers or how I was feeling super depressed and used it as a comfort food. But, I have no excuse.

I ate meat. I consciously ate meat and felt bad as I ate it. Didn’t even taste that good. Ironic because it was Whataburger and they’re great normally.

I’m feeling depressed now. Can’t eat anything now because I basically had my calories for the day/week. I want pizza. I’ll order a pizza sometime this week. That’ll make me happy. Fatty foods… then hating myself as I spend too much food getting fat. Fuck.

Whatever. Watching more GG (Game Grumps) and they’re playing Funhaus in Overwatch. Never heard of them. There is this character I really like named, “Winston.” Mercy I really like her design but Winston�� I find his entire character interesting. He’s a gorilla with a prescription. He wears these little glasses, is an intellectual. I find it very charming.

I remember… when Overwatch (or BlizzFortress 2) was announced. I saw all the trailers because Blizz was complaining about porn (porn is great free advertisement, tell someone not to make a porn of a character and they’ll do it twice as fast). The only really interesting trailer I thought was with Winston. There were the two Japanese gentlemen, Soldier 82, and Tracer trying to save Robo-Gandh1.

I’ve got to say, Winston was the best. Like… it was charming. He was a cute monkey pup, too. Well… ape. The action part was okay. But I absolutely adore Winston’s character. It was touching. I love how he had tires and ate bananas and peanut butter. Like, he is super smart but he’s still an animal.

I actually googled the trailers right now, just to recap. APPARENTLY, it’s not 82 but 76. Soldier 76. I hate numbers. -,-

Anyways, rewatching the trailer. I love how fatherly that scientist is.

Oh, shit! I didn’t realize skullface guy was there. All I remember of the action part was that he said, “I’m not a monkey… I’m an APE!!!” Hasn’t happened yet. The dude who lets go of his gun as Winston swings everything around was pretty smart. He’s going to go places. :3

God damn, that is a cute mother fucking monkey.

Oh, he says he’s a scientist. I was wrong. And then Tracer opens who fucking mouth. Low point of the trailer.

Anyways, yeah. Really like Winston. I’d watch a full length movie about him. And because he’s a gorilla, I’d fucking cry in the middle. Idgaf.

Now that I got that out of the way, I doubt I’ll actually ever PLAY Overwatch. Like ever. If I do, it’ll be because someone asked me to. And if I do play, I’ll probably play as Winston. I think I heard he was pretty underpowered which was weird but I think they patched him if he was too underpowered. It’s been a couple years.

Oh, I forgot! There was another trailer I liked with the robot dude. Bastion. I liked his story, too. I guess I really like non-human characters AS WELL as blondes. :/

Hrm… Esther came onto NationStates. Didn’t do anything. Weird. Maybe she messaged NSRF. Going to see if my story checks out. That’s if I had to guess. I don’t blame her. After what happened, she’s checking sources. I told her to do this with Dennis when he told her that his mother didn’t like her hanging out with me and thought she was using Dennis. If I’m right, she’s checking on me.

She’s doing what I told her to do. Clever girl.

#breakup #slice of life #frustration #depression #getting over it #moving on #journal #a year ago today

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arincalz · 4 years

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⌠ ETHAN CUTKOSKY, 20, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ARIN CALLISTER! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of shaggy unkempt hair, the glow of LED case lights in bi pride colors, late night thunderstorms and the first skate on fresh ice. when it’s the (scorpio)’s birthday on 11/03/1999, they always request their CHICKEN STRIPS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. / @gallagherintro

will i ever write a coherent bio for a character instead of just copy/pasting my brain dump notes ? maybe. someday. probably not but if u think these are bad u should see my indie :))))

he wishes he had a cooler story for why he started hacking and coding, and often when he's asked he'll make something up on the spot. but if you press enough, he'll admit to wanting more coins in club penguin when he was eight and than wondering how those exploits worked. pretty quickly he discovered whole communities online for hacking other games and even whole websites and he became fascinated. it would be a few years before he'd actually be able to participate in these communities (mom said no), but even as a kid he would lurk the forums for tips and new scripts to test out and tinker with. it was basic script kiddie stuff, but it was a start. that summer when it was time to pick a day camp he'd ask his mom to find a coding camp for him to try. his mom had to pull some strings to get him in, and he was a few years younger than the rest of the class, but that wouldn't keep arin from constantly showing them up. he'd keep going to coding camp every summer for the next few years - and in the meantime, the forums and his own tinkering kept him sharp and learning new things. in middle school he discovered bug bounties, where companies pay hackers to report on security flaws in their systems. this gave him something to do besides hack and mod video games - which was still fun, but wasn't going to make him any money - and something to actively work towards. he started small, looking for vulnerabilities in his school's system and informing them by leaving little notes for the administrators telling them how he did it and how he thought it could be fixed. he didn't get anything out of that, but it taught him what he needed to slowly work his way up to bigger and better things. and after about a year or so he was supplementing his allowance of his little side hustle.

the bounties got more substantial in high school as he worked his way into bigger and tougher systems. by now he was active in the online communities, and took a certain amount of pride in being "the kid" in a few of them. in hindsight, that's probably how he got the attention of blackthorne academy in the first place. the move to gallagher after a year at blackthorne was a more than welcome one. he didn't do great in that sort of environment, though his fighting skills from years of playing hockey helped him keep his head above water. still hated the place, though.

and now for some fun bonus personality stuff:

he and devon go way back to when they were smol babies at their separate day camps that happened to cross paths enough for them to make friends. just how often he participated in [gregg from nitw voice] crimes is tbd but let it be known he has used his powers for evil

likes solving his problems with his fists, but he went the whole last semester without punching anyone, and you know what we call that ? growth. (the summer doesn't count, shhh, that asshole at the bar in berlin had it coming and his nose looks better crooked anyway, shhhhhhhhh)

this boy has uniform violations for days and like, some of it is because he thinks the rules are stupid but some of it he just genuinely forgets. even though this is his second year at gallagher just he has not learned the dress code.

computer smart, but otherwise ?? no thoughts, head empty

dyslexic, cannot read, will cry if you ask him to try and read something smaller than like 14px or in a font that isn't a basic mono or serif

has snails named snurcules, spork, escargobi-wan kenobi and p sherman 42 wallaby way sydney (sherman for short) because none of my characters can have normal pets. ( look how cute tho )

i mentioned it in passing in the bio but he used to play hockey as a kid and in high school and he's pretty good but that’s also where he first learned how to fight

speaking of hockey i don’t actually have a good reason for him to be a capitols fan so as much as it pains me i am reluctantly making him a devils fan which in its own way... is very fitting

he also probably whines a lot about not being able to just ~go skate~ whenever he wants to, please help him find some other hobbies, get him a skateboard maybe

honestly probably runs a gallagher minecraft server and if you piss him off he'll blow up your house, free your chickens and dye all your sheep pink

#❛ about. ❜#gallagher:intro #i have two main character archetypes that i use. van and jet are one........and this is the other one #at least i changed it up from dumb skate bro to dumb hockey bro this time

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