Cane23

Ah yes, nothing like a sudden and emotionally scarring ending to wrap things up nicely! 😜

I don’t think I’ve ever come across a fated mates shifter throuple before - what a fresh and exciting twist! @Laura S. Fox is an absolute master of comedy, and her ideas are nothing short of brilliant - from the comedy of errors in book one to the delightful absurdity in book two. These characters are hilarious together, and I can’t wait to see where their wild journey goes next!

Honestly, there’s a simple way to get rid of him- daddy just needs to ‘disown’ Zayn again and announce that he’s cut off from the inheritance. And just like that… poof Harry disappears!

I’m not mad about Zayn’s conflicted emotions - that part’s human. But the neglect and disrespect he shows toward River in this chapter? That definitely deserves a good spanking, at the very least. He’s acting like a spoiled little rich boy who seriously needs a lesson in how to treat people right. Leonardo’s methods might’ve been harsh, but at least they exposed Harry and gave Zayn a push to start looking for someone real.

I agree - no one deserves that kind of humiliation. Whether the relationship is real or not, there should always be a basic level of respect. Unfortunately, River has put himself in a very difficult position; it's not so easy for him to just pack up and leave. He needs the money for his studies and his father’s medication, and beyond that, he’s formed genuine connections with Leonardo and Elena. River walking away, or exposing the truth...would hurt people who don’t deserve it.

Lyn might be a bit delusional when it comes to his feelings for Brad and Aleksander, but otherwise, he's a grounded and highly competent lawyer - even back in the days when he was still in college. He's quiet, observant, and truly listens.

What a journey it's been for Mr. Russ. I really enjoy seeing this more domestic side of him - like an uncle or older brother figure. It’s such a contrast to his early appearances in the Brian & Gordon storyline, where he came across as mysterious and his intentions felt so suspicious.

He's not substitute; he's companion: He is..." Blake let the word turn in his mouth, "...good company. Smarter than he lets himself seem.

Yeah, but this is a rom-com - no murders here! I’m expecting some juicy public humiliation instead! 😜

Hm...is Marvin just friendly or he is..."friendly"?! 😏 How is Creek, after so long abstinence, going to handle so much...male...attention?

On the frescoes of the Holy Trinity, the Spirit is shown as a dove. A dove cannot be caged - it must soar freely. Will our dove (Blake) ever return? Of course he will. After all, the roof of the house isn’t finished yet, and Blake is the roof. “Leave that star joint,” he says - the sky is the limit. Walls are meant to warm us, not to confine us… leave the door open so we can reach the stars. Ultimately: “Blake's home wasn't asphalt or county lines, wasn't a town that might forgive him or a porch that would welcome him or a past he could beat into shape. It wasn't an eight-second horn or a motel lamp or the map he kept in his mouth. Blake's home was Jackson.” Without the connection between Blake and Cash, the trinity doesn’t exist. In the last two chapters, @CasualWanderer82 writes the most emotional, tender, and heartwarming, but also raw, depiction of Blake and Cash’s relationship, the way only two alphas can be. If Jackson brings the divine, Blake brings the grounding, healing power of the earth. He helps Cash relax, to release pain, to lower his guard. In that beautiful scene under the shower, Blake gives Cash a massage - each touch sensual yet strong, deliberate enough to calm him. Blake placing a small kiss while Cash holds his hand on his chest is an astonishing fusion of eroticism and tenderness...it is pure care. The moment Cash offers to bottom for the injured Blake speaks volumes. What might seem like a casual sexual offer, almost banter, carries profound meaning - Cash is offering himself freely to help Blake feel better. It’s his way of showing affection - something he doesn’t give lightly. On their farewell, Blake tells Cash, “Let Jackson top you sometimes.” It isn’t because Jackson needs it, but because Cash needs it - he needs to let go, to be cared for in return, to allow himself relief and comfort. The way Blake leads Cash into a sexual encounter with Jackson mirrors the earlier scene when Jackson guided Evan during his time with Blake. It’s not merely a lesson in how to please - it’s a way to maintain connection, a way to stay intertwined even when miles apart. Through these gestures, intimacy transcends distance... desire becomes a bridge, a shared language that keeps them together no matter the space between them.

Both the shop scene and the “fictional sex” scene are absolutely hilarious. It might sound like blasphemy, but in one thing I have to agree with Veronica - Zayn and Rivers are boyfriends (at least in everyone else’s eyes). So, there’s really nothing shocking about boyfriends having sex. Harry, on the other hand, is almost irrational in his delusions about Zayn. I can understand @Seraph28's frustration if Zayn starts adopting some of Jace’s behavior… Still, unlike in that story, Zayn and Rivers aren’t married - they’re not even officially a couple yet. I get that Zayn might still have unresolved feelings for Harry, but Harry has already shown himself to be morally ambiguous. There’s no real happiness being with someone like that.

“High ceilings and large mirrors that made the enormous room appear even grander than it already was” This environment of wealth and reflection mirrors Lyn’s inner discomfort - the mirrors intensify both space and self-awareness. The grandeur is intimidating... everything is designed to look larger, richer, better - just like the emotional facade Lyn and his mother are forced to maintain. The mirrors also have a symbolic function - Lyn is constantly seeing himself reflected through others’ judgment, never as a whole person but as an echo of class shame. This theme - being observed and silently evaluated, recurs in his interactions with Alexander later in the scene. This chapter is not just a social scene - it’s a modern reimagining of Blanche DuBois’s legacy, refracted through the eyes of her son. Lyn stands at the crossroads between illusion and reality, love and humiliation, desire and defense. His mother’s name roots him in a literary tradition of tragic beauty and self-deception and his encounter with Alexander becomes a confrontation not just between two young men, but between two worlds - one inherited, one performed. This balcony scene is one of Misaligned’s sharpest studies in humiliation, class performance, and suppressed desire. Alexander’s quiet line “I’m not the one judging you. You’re doing a fine job yourself.” is perhaps the truest and most devastating moment in the scene. It exposes Lyn’s core neurosis - self-judgment masquerading as defiance. Alexander isn’t humiliating him, he’s mirroring him. That’s what makes it unbearable. "Demon" becomes “Lord Byron”, a nickname that encapsulates Lyn’s ambivalence perfectly - admiration laced with contempt. Byron is both a poet and a libertine, beautiful and corrupt. That’s exactly how Lyn sees Alexander... the embodiment of beauty and moral superiority that both repels and seduces him. “I did read the room. You looked lonely.” is the emotional climax of the scene. It’s not mocking - it’s tender, almost cruelly so. He’s seen through Lyn’s armor and names the thing Lyn cannot bear... his loneliness. Lyn’s defensive line “You know nothing.” is pure Blanchean denial - the refusal to be seen, the terror of exposure. In the final scene, Blanche clearly mirrors Blanche DuBois - refined, self-deluding, elegant, performing dignity in the face of quiet ruin. But @Laura S. Fox's Blanche has more poise and less hysteria - she’s still the woman who survived scandal and gossip by turning composure into armor. As I've already commented, Lyn’s tenderness toward her is touching, he protects her socially and emotionally, compensating for the humiliations she’s endured. Their humor (“Please, mommy, we must…”) is both playful and defiant - a performance meant to reclaim power in front of the snobs gossiping about her. That moment is an act of love through irony - Lyn shielding Blanche with wit, turning ridicule into theatre. The two of them, united in mockery, rise above the venom around them. At the very end, Lyn is projecting Alexander’s own words back at him. When he murmurs “You look lonely,” he’s not repeating it as self-directed irony - he’s observing Alexander. But there’s a double edge to it. On the surface, it’s Lyn turning the earlier jab around - almost as if to reclaim power... “You said that to me, but maybe you’re the one who’s actually lonely.” Yet, beneath that, it also shows how much Alexander’s words have stuck with him. The fact that Lyn remembers them at all and uses them in this private, almost tender way - suggests that something about that moment on the balcony reached him, even if he won’t admit it. Lyn's recognizing a shared loneliness between them, without consciously saying so. It’s one of those quiet echoes that defines their dynamic - mirroring, denial, and emotional symmetry.

You’re absolutely right - maybe “endearing” wasn’t the best word. What I meant was something between heartwarming and heartbreaking. There’s clearly love and affection between Lyn and Blanche, even if it’s tangled in all the wrong ways. Blanche’s behavior is certainly delusional and manipulative at times, but there’s also something deeply human in how they cling to each other. They’re both performing survival, just in different ways - she through charm and denial, he through irony and restraint. They live in a morally doubtful reality, yet they remain oddly supportive of each other. That makes their relationship emotionally complex rather than purely toxic. And since we know Lyn’s father is a dangerous man - and that Lyn fears being found out by him - Blanche becomes, for all her flaws, a kind of fragile shield. Their bond might be dysfunctional, but there’s still tenderness in it - a love that’s built out of damage and shared loneliness.

I guess I should be grateful that Cane made it out alive… though I was kind of expecting @chris191070 to throw him into a steamy scene or two! Oh well, there's always next time. Great story, guys!

Right - Alexander calls him Lyn throughout that entire conversation with his mother. It takes almost ten years - and a quiet, intimate moment for Lyn to realize that Alexander had stopped calling him Lynton. And it's also been nearly a decade between the two times Alexander calls him perfect -once during that meeting with his mother, and then again, ten years later, just before Lyn goes to see Brad.

"I don't want realism - I want magic!" There's something both tragic and endearing in the farce this mother and son perform. Like well-rehearsed partners, they play their roles - she chasing illusion for survival, he supporting her out of loyalty, not belief. It's a sad kind of pretend, especially for the Lyn, who knows it's all false but plays along anyway.

Mancunian is no longer with us but thank you for honoring his memory with this blog. What Happened to the Baxter Boys is a beautiful story of love, family, support, and optimism - an extraordinary testament to the spirit Mancunian left behind.

Perhaps that was Alexander’s message: If I’m the demon, can’t you see you’re the one burning me at the stake? 😜

There are a few layers at play here. On the surface, Alexander seems to be teasing Brad - a mischievous, almost naughty side of him - making Brad look a bit foolish for calling Lyn “Gui.” But there’s a deeper meaning too. “Gui” isn’t just a literary reference to the inquisitor from The Name of the Rose; it also evokes the historical Bernardo Gui, a rigid and morally absolute figure. In that sense, the nickname hints at Lyn’s complexity - his hidden authority, analytical mind, and the way others scrutinize him. Brad, however, interprets the situation as Alexander trying to put Lyn down, which feels like a misreading, maybe even slightly malicious. The tension will be interesting when Lyn inevitably addresses the comment with Alexander - how he responds could reveal a lot about all of them. And who knows… perhaps this is just the beginning of a playful exorcism of the “heretic” in more… intimate ways. 😉 What I find especially interesting is Brad’s approach. He almost seems to be “auditioning” for the nickname, as if trying to prove his closeness to Lyn, rather than letting it come naturally. Nicknames usually emerge spontaneously...they’re a sign of intimacy or connection, not something to be researched or performed. And they aren’t necessarily romantic - friends give nicknames too. Brad’s effort, though well-meaning, underscores the subtle distance between them or, as usual, his tendency toward shallowness.

The first impression of this chapter is humor - intelligent, situational, and charged with double meanings... The moment when Lyn hikes with suspicious enthusiasm is a beautifully ironic piece of comedy. He tells himself he’s just keeping pace or being competitive, but the truth - that he’s subconsciously hurrying to finish and get back to Alexander - gives the scene a delicious romantic irony. Oh my god, I actually burst out laughing at Brad’s line - “Is Alexander giving you a hard time?” The double meaning there is just priceless! 😂 Knowing exactly how “hard” Alexander gets around Lyn. Unlike the night before, when Alexander was anxious that Lyn might fall for Brad’s games again, here he’s calm and self-assured. He compliments Lyn “you are perfect” and even when he says, “I’ll come for you if you...,” it’s not out of worry but confidence. He knows Lyn will come back for more. And that unexpected kiss from Lyn only confirms it. We can really see the change in Lyn here - he’s no longer shy or tense around Brad. Now that he’s finally released from that years-long infatuation, he can actually be playful and relaxed. The fact that he pinches Brad’s nipple back, without overthinking or panicking about revealing too much, says it all. It’s like he’s finally free to just be himself... no fear, no longing, no secret to guard. I love how the climbing motif ties back to Lyn’s earlier “climb” on his mother’s roof - back then it symbolized duty and struggle, trying to fix what was broken. But here, hiking up the hill with Brad feels like a different kind of ascent - a psychological one. He’s not climbing to repair anymore, but to rise above his past. By the time he reaches the top, it’s clear he’s grown - freer, more self-assured, finally above the old infatuation that once held him down. The line with “veni, vidi…” (in English, of course, since it’s Brad who starts it) and Lyn adding “…vici” is so clever. For Brad, it was just come and see - casual, fleeting. But for Lyn, it becomes full-on victory - he’s conquered his past feelings and taken control of his emotions. Such a subtle yet perfect symbol of his growth and self-assurance! “Ah,” Lyn let out. “I suppose I’ve never been good at that. Unlike you. You’re great at being happy. It’s why we’re friends.” He risked one look at Brad and stopped, dead in his tracks. Something foreign glinted in Brad’s eyes. It reminded him – only a bit – of that horrible night when everything had fallen apart. “Happiness is something you make,” Brad said quietly, uncharacteristic for him. “Fuck, Lyn,” he added in a surprisingly honest tone, while hanging his head low, “but it’s not always easy.” This is definitely one of Brad’s most honest, unguarded moments in the story. For someone who usually masks his emotions with charm and humor, this brief glimpse of vulnerability is striking. The line “Happiness is something you make… it’s not always easy” carries a quiet weight, almost painful in its honesty. It’s a rare acknowledgment that behind his easygoing exterior, maintaining that mask and performing the “happy, confident” role takes real effort. It humanizes Brad in a way we rarely see and gives the scene a tender, bittersweet depth. We have commented earlier that Brad’s behavior unintentionally stunted Lyn’s emotional growth - by sending mixed signals, giving just enough attention, he linked Lyn to himself while never allowing him true independence. We can see now that Lyn’s infatuation both flattered Brad and trapped him in a subtle illusion - that someone was always looking up to him, even if it was destabilizing for Lyn. By doing “schoolwork” for him - taking the easy route instead of teaching him how to manage - he boosted Brad’s ego but also subtly constrained him. Even in comparison to his wife, Lyn’s admiration is a unique, irreplaceable kind of validation. So, when Brad tells Lyn, "you don’t look happy,” it’s layered - he’s observing not just Lyn’s apparent dissatisfaction in life, but also the absence of that adoring gaze he once had. Lyn’s happiness, or lack thereof, is intertwined with how he once reflected it toward Brad - a subtle emotional mirror that Brad still unconsciously reads and craves. Brad’s line “Never in my life, but like never-never, has anyone looked at me like you used to in college” shows how strongly he senses that Lyn’s old, infatuated gaze is gone. From that, he concludes, “Pardon my French, but you don’t look fucking happy” - assuming that because Lyn hasn’t married or moved on, some of that old admiration must still exist. It’s a delusional projection... Brad reads Lyn’s current demeanor through his own need for validation, not realizing that Lyn has actually moved past those feelings.

“Hey,” Brad said, catching Lyn’s chin and turning his head, “is that a hickey?” Lyn froze, while Brad’s face stretched into a smile. “You dog. And you’re keeping it all on the down low like usual.” I was sooooo right...

Our boys are rewriting the Canons - and the moralists are about to have a counter-conversion therapy session with Miss Daisy! 😄

There’s always a tendency to imagine their future through the traditional lens of home and family - husband, wife, children, Sunday lunches, and neatly divided household roles. But as @CasualWanderer82reminds us, while they’ll need to sit down and define some basic boundaries, this relationship doesn’t have to suffocate in domesticity. Blake will keep traveling - it’s who he is. Jackson will often join him, drawn to the road and the motion. Cash, the carpenter and homemaker, will remain the anchor - the keeper of the fortress. And though their days may be full and busy, their nights will be all the sweeter for the waiting.

I’d call this story A Fantasy on Christian Themes. Miss Daisy is a prophet - she welcomes the prodigal son, condemns the Pharisees, reminds others that “let the one without sin cast the first stone,” and teaches that the greatest commandment is “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Her children, like the Apostles, are neither perfect nor sinless - just as St. Peter himself denied Jesus three times before dawn. At the beginning, I wondered the same thing - how could these three men live their polyamory openly in the American South? But as the story moved beyond its Sergio Leone landscape and rhythm, transforming into The Gospel of Casual, it became clear that conventional answers no longer apply. Blake, Jackson, and Cash are not going to hide - yet they won’t parade their love through town either. They don’t need rainbow flags or Pride marches to validate their bond. They aren’t activists... their quiet strength lies in revealing the normality of something exceptional. They show that the freedom to love is a universal truth - one that belongs to everyone, and one no one should ever be ashamed of.