#important to note: i think you will see far more people saying my quiz was good than saying it was bad and they didn't relate because most | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wisteria-lodge · 2 years

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bird primary (snake system) + snake secondary (bird model, badger model, lion performance)

So, first things first: I’m fairly sure my houses (primary or secondary or maybe even both) are pretty heavily charred. The sorting hat chat quiz sends me away with a different result each time, and I can kind of relate to all the houses. I was thinking I might do this sort me post by talking about what I find confusing about the categories, I think it might be more helpful than just talking about myself. I’m also not neurotypical (there’s a good chance no-one in my family is), and I think my ADHD and (potentially, it’s under investigation) autism might be messing with my ability to figure out my secondary. Impulsivity, executive dysfunction…. Not necessarily helpful.

That’s a neat way of approaching things. I like it.

~ PRIMARIES ~

[Initial note: after reading a bunch of sorts and some of the stuff on the new sorting hat chats Tumblr, I’ve decided that primaries are functionally to do with the the concept of eudaimonia (philosophical contentment/the good life): what does character or person X require/feel is required to live a good life. Eg: a cause, people to be loyal to, a community, or a constructed system/truth. This affects what I’ll say/how I’ll say it below.]

I would completely agree with this statement, and we love Aristotle over here.

The one primary I’ve decided I’m (probably?) not is bird.

I’m totally listening and everything, but I can tell by your username that you’re a Discworld fan, and all the really big Discworld fans that I know are Bird primaries. Also your methodology so far seems pretty Bird. Like, you’re not just emotionally describing your life (the way a Lion would) you’re interrogating every step of the system I am presenting you with, and coming back with the bits you find confusing?

(also my readers won’t be able to tell, but this is the second draft of your submission.)

My opinions and views tend to be very internal: I check them against the outside world to see what can be backed up in an argument

This just… a very bird primary statement. Obviously everything gets filtered though you, but you’re consciously pulling things in from external sources.

but I’m not all that good at changing my mind.

I’m not sure if anyone is amazing at that. But it’s something that is especially… embarrassing, or even disturbing, for Idealist primaries.

I also just don’t have much faith in the idea of creating “systems” through which to understand the world/ethics, or in the concept of a “truth.” I’m wary of the idea that humans are capable of rationality outside very selective and artificial parameters like maths: especially in the field of ethics, most attempts at detached rationality that I’ve read seem intellectually dishonest.

I’m starting to think that you are such a *deep* Bird, that you are reading all the primaries as different flavors of bird, and when you do that “bird” comes out as simplified and Spock-like. You are literally working out a worldview here. It’s not a worldview based in “rationality,” and I support that completely. Anyone who believes themselves entirely rational or without bias is coming from a place of hubris. But this is still a worldview that you have consciously generated, and that is the important part when it comes to this system.

…or hypocritical at best.

I’m going on patterns here, because that’s all I can do. No one likes hypocrites. But Birds HATE hypocrites.

Codes/methods/theories of ethics often boil down to something so similar to the societal ethics of their creators’ cultures/people’s instinctive reasoning that they just seem to me to be an unnecessary and defensive attempt to remove the emotions from emotional things.

That’s some pushback against the way that I would say Badger primaries/lion primaries process things.

(As you could probably tell from the eudaimonia thing) I do have a soft spot for ancient virtue ethics though, which are at least honest about the fact that they’re not trying to create any new idea about what the “right” things to do are. Modern philosophers tend to argue this makes them insufficiently action-guiding; I prefer the idea that they just want to point out what people around them generally approve of, note that these often conflict with eachother, and leave room for their students to manoeuvre and judge for themselves what is best to do in the moment.

Okay, to generalize about antiquities virtue ethics… I do see a certain Lion flavor. There is a lot about good and bad feeling/emotions/instincts and the general way people tend to pursue the good ones, and interact as little as possible with the bad ones.

But you talk about them, and why you like them, in very Bird way. You feel they accurately express the world around you, which is very messy. And they leave enough moral room for “depends on the circumstance,” which also seems to be important to you.

As for the other three, I start to get confused. I could be a lion primary, but the cause language trips me up: I don’t really have a cause to speak of, I don’t think. I definitely have no idea what I want to do with life, which is the kind of thing lion primary characters usually do. On the other hand this has left me in a kind of uncomfortable limbo while I try to reassess what I want, which might be (burnt) lionish?

It’s true that sometimes Burnt Lions can look like Birds, but in your case - this is just Bird. “Cause” and “knowing what you want to do” are common visible symptoms of being a Lion, but not what a Lion is. Hey - you like ancient Greek philosophers. So how about this. Aristotle would tell you that the realest real things are external to you - things you can touch, measure, interact with, be observed by. That’s Bird. Plato would say that the realest real things are internal - perception, feelings, dreams, instincts. That’s Lion.

My family always say how loyal I am and I think I definitely come across as a loyalist primary to the world, and if I were to pick one I look like, it would probably be a snake.

Well we already know you don’t like Badgers .

I definitely have “my people”, and I think I prioritise them in a snake like way – I really identify with the concentric rings of importance thing, and with the idea that privileging the people I love above others is just what you should do. I love being part of groups and communities, but I usually bond to specific people in the group: eg when my friends in a sports team I was in at uni graduated, the team became much less important to me. A point against snake primary would be that though my people are extract important to me this isn’t relevant to most of my life (they’re doing fine) and I actively dislike the idea of basing my morality and or life goals on what they think I should want. I like to feel I think for myself.

While it’s common for Snakes to sort of *match* the moralities of their loved ones (and you see this a lot in fiction because it’s just a simple way of writing a character) they do not have to do this. It’s actually pretty common to see a Snake who looks like a Bird… until their people are in trouble.

And you, at this point… could go either way. You might be a Bird who’s current worldview looks Snake, or you could be a Snake who constructs a satisfying Bird model to wear when your people are okay. I’m still leaning towards Bird - you’re just so specific and heated when laying out your worldview. But who are your important people? I don’t know.

I also kind of identify with the badger need-basing thing. I feel very strongly that there are things that have to be done in any community – in particular that people who are in vulnerable moments need looking after – and if no-one else is doing that work them I should step up. So if I’m at a party and see someone getting too drunk/ looking particularly upset or something, I’ll obviously drop my night with my friends to go make sure they’re safe and that no-one takes advantage of their state. I don’t resent this: though I don’t necessarily find holding someone over a bin while they cry and throw up personally fulfilling, I want it to be done, and I know I’ll keep any stuff they let slip while their defenses are down private for them and it won’t enter the gossip mill. This seems badgery?

It DOES… but it seems more Badger secondary, because this example is all about a way to do things, a style of interacting with the world that feels correct to you. Primaries are honestly extremely abstract.

That said, I’m not sure I feel about this like a badger character would in fiction. It kind of feels like I’m bringing them into one of my concentric circles of awareness and importance, and at some level I tend to feel protective of (and I guess somewhat invested in) them from them on, to a greater extent than to others.

I had a post about this feeling a while back. This idea felt so completely intrinsic to who I am as a person to that I thought it must have something to do with my Lion primary. But I got a lot responses back, and going from the evidence I compiled… this is a Badger secondary thing.

I’m a maybe slightly excessively protective person when it comes to those individuals around me I feel need protecting. Not in a creepy way, and I try to a) stay out when I’m not needed and b) make myself not needed as fast as possible. (I don’t like people with saviour complexes, and after some bad experiences (one my own, others observation) with people who wanted a codependent kind of support so they could get away with not seeing a therapist, and communities/authority figures who actively refused to do anything but enable this I refuse to be pulled into that kind of behavior. I think — except in the very very short term – people in trouble need support from a community and if necessary from experts, not any one living emotional or physical crutch.) But I keep an eye out for them and worry about them.

What a mess of contradictions, have fun parsing it out 😛

Oh yeah, you’ve got some Badger secondary. With a lot of boundaries too. Cheers.

~SECONDARIES~

I am very confused about secondaries. Like, so confused. This section is going to be really quite disorganized. I kind of feel like when I have a goal in mind I just do whatever I think will work to achieve it, and no method feels wrong or bad?

You might have lot of models, which is fun. I know you suspect you might be Burnt, but so far I’m really not seeing it.

I think I’m not a badger, though I definitely learned courtier badger kind of skills at university and use them a lot when I’m dealing with people. I don’t really community build – I’m usually somewhere at the edges of the groups I belong to, and though I recognize it’s a compliment I resent the expectations that come with being “the reliable one.”

Okay, interesting. It’s possible that your Badger is a useful model that intellectually fits with your primary, but is sometimes confining.

Cutting corners also doesn’t bother me a bit, as long as the end result works, and works at the standard I’d expect (i.e. a low standard is fine, for a short term thing/immediate need). If a corner can be cut without harming the end result, it’s obviously pointless, you know? Maybe you don’t – you’re a badger sec I think, but it feels basic to me? What works, works – and then I move on.

To me there’s a rather big difference between a “cut corner” and “an unnecessary step,” and maybe it’s a semantic one, since I think you’re using those words interchangeably. Unnecessary steps are of course horrible and stupid. But cut corners - like here’s what I mean by a cut corner. I was legitimately surprised to learn that most people, even most religious people, had not read the Bible cover to cover. Like, why wouldn’t you? If religion is important to you? It’s just a long book. It is bizarre to me that so many people interact with the Bible through what are basically pre-assembled cheat-sheets and excerpts. But that is the kind of thing I mean, when I say that to a Badger, cutting corners on something that feels important can also feel immoral.

That said, I really relate to the bit in the badger sec quiz description about people walking up and trusting you with their deep dark secrets. I don’t know what brings it on, though, and though it’s a compliment I generally wish they hadn’t. I usually can’t do anything to help, so I’m just stood there doing the listening and caring thing and then worrying for them after. Maybe I perform badger sec semi accidentally by using the courtier skills?

I think that is entirely possible, yes.

The answer that sounds most obviously like me on the quiz is bird secondary, yet somehow it doesn’t feel like it fits. I do love accumulating skills and facts (I’m a fantastic quizzer)/learning everything I can find to know about a topic. I’ve been called a walking encyclopedia, the people around me like to test me on facts to see how much I know. Arguably I also use actor bird: I was literally sent to weekend drama school as a teen to learn social skills by learning to play other people, and it worked a charm. The skill and knowledge accumulation is a big source of joy for me, and I definitely don’t think of it as a means to an end (I can’t think of many situations in which this would be useful) which the SHC quiz suggests makes it not a model.

My answer to that is that not all models are tools. Sometimes models are toys (or coping mechanisms, like your Actor Bird.)

But something about it feels wrong? To start with, I really hate plans and planning. I begrudgingly learned to do essay plans before I started writing halfway through university, and they were definitely useful for keeping things organized and getting good marks, but I have to keep them minimal to make them bearable. Generally plans of any sort leave me feeling kind of trapped and ineffective, so I really feel like I could be an improvisational secondary.

I agree.

The question would then be which, I guess. I find the description of lion confusing. What does it mean, outside fiction, to charge? As a small child (under ten) I would say I was pretty “charge-ey,” but then children often are.

But not all children. (I wasn’t.) Also, Lion gets simplified down into “charge” mostly because of the parent system. I think that the better metaphor is a battering ram.

I was certainly blunt and stubborn, and kind of am now, but that could be neutral snake

I was about to say there could be some Neutral Snake. The “immovable object.”

(I like a bit of privacy, so I relate to the idea of picking and choosing which facets of me people I don’t love and trust see).

Not really a Lion answer, that.

What feels less snakeish for me is that I used to really resent those faces as a child – I hated people trying to mould me into someone “cooler”.

Well of course a Snake is going to hate that. A Snake thinks of their faces as creative modes of expression, someone infringing on that would just be awful.

My refusal made me lonely though, so I had to reassess. I do have a bad habit of picking fights and arguments when I feel someone’s been wronged that could I guess be called “charging”, though I could as easily think of it as a combative face worn as a tactic.

This sounds like the Actor Bird model which we know you have.

I’ve been described as “intense, but in a fun way” by several people who’d never met eachother.

I would also describe you as ‘intense, but in a fun way.’

I also relate to your description somewhere of lion pri as “the best way out is through”/“screw it, let’s do this.” I am very willing to just power through a problem towards a goal, and metaphorically shove everything aside. I guess my question though would be this: what does a lion secondary look like when it can’t decide on anything to charge for, and it’s just waiting around? Would it maybe look like neutral snake? Because that could be me at the moment.

A Lion without a direction to go in is just kinda… there. And it’s not the most pleasant feeling in the world. Maybe this is where your feeling of “burning” is coming from. But like… you don’t seem terribly bothered by it? Which makes me think more Neutral Snake again.

Also, do lions ever model snake?

Not… really. They’re honestly two very, very different ways of even conceptualizing the world, although they can occasionally look similar from the outside. Sometimes very Burnt Lion secondaries model Snake, but that’s all I’ve seen.

Because lying doesn’t bother me, I think. Or maybe it does. I very rarely tell actual untruths, in the sense of something that could be fact checked and traced back to me, leaving me caught out. I’d rather keep quiet than do that. It seems dumb to me: it damages your reputation, and the only way to get away with it would be more fact checkable lies, leaving me even more vulnerable to getting caught out. I try to maintain and live up to a reputation for honesty and trustworthiness, because it’s useful when dealing with others and it feels good to be trusted. And most of the faces I wear boil down to various levels of masking to look more neurotypical, more than anything else.

That said, though, I’m perfectly happy to misrepresent myself or a situation if I feel it’s important (or even just if I’m trying to convince someone of something in an argument). I just find it much easier to do by selecting which truths I tell carefully, and lining them up in misdirecting ways. That way I can’t be caught. I also feel like I problem solve creatively, in an outside the box way, and I’m happy to try coming at something from several different angles till it works.

Oh. Here we go. Now you properly sound like a Snake. What a Lion calls “lying” a Snake will absolutely say “misrepresentation” or “selecting truths.” Your solo problem solving sounds very Snake as well (and I’ll bet you’re more of a single-player snake than a multi-player one.)

(also I’m doubling down on Bird primary because of this apparent love of formal arguments.)

Finally, I think maybe describing how I liked to go about writing my twice weekly essays as an undergrad would give the best picture of the secondary methods I use, because I felt very comfortable and happy using them and know they were apparently odd

… which I will summarize here, because that was a very long description.

give myself very limited time to work (so I don’t feel pressured to use essay planning.)

write down everythingI already know

only use easily accessible texts. (only read for answers to the specific question.)

when all that’s in my head, just write the thing in one go, turn it in.

the essays work for my audience, therefore they’re good.

As you can see I cut a lot of corners, but as long as I had found a point to make the essays were genuinely fine, even good quality; people didn’t notice or complain about the quality of my work and I honestly found it a fulfilling tactic. I was very very good at being a technically bad student, I guess, and I kind of found the (deserved) imposter syndrome thrilling rather than bad, like I’d found a loophole.

You clever snake. Whereas I once translated parts of a mimeographed dissertation out of German so I could cite them in a paper. I don’t even speak German. And now I’m going to go back and read this over for repetition and flow, even though it is very long. I guess we’re both a little crazy.

Right, I’m done, and I’m satisfied with this. Sorry about the length, and thanks for reading!

I had had fun. And dear god, no wonder you had difficulties with your secondary. You are a Snake secondary who models Bird as a coping mechanism (neurodivergent) and also a toy, and you have one very Badger flavored and one very Lion flavored Actor Bird persona.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #bird snake #the artist #bird primary #snake secondary #lion secondary #lion secondary vs snake secondary #bird secondary model #badger secondary model

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sugadaily · 3 years

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On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

#yoongi #suga #bangtan #bts #210730 #interview

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annab-nana · 3 years

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It’s Just Not My Thing - Peter Parker

Empire State University looks like the epitome of all things Valentine’s Day which just so happened to be your least favorite holiday. In fact, you hated the day and with good reason, so Peter plans something special to get you away from all the love and hearts.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day @jellyfishbeansontoast! This is my gift to you from @killingbxys and @earthlyholland’s Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange! I tried to add little details about you that I’m sure you’ll notice hehe and side note: this is the longest thing I have ever written so I really hope you guys like it!

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 12.3k+ (kinda sorry, kinda not)

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“God, it looks like Cupid threw up here,” you groaned as you looked around at the campus that surrounded you when you and Peter walked out of the main science building. Splashes of red and pink and small bits of purple littered the outsides of all the buildings around Empire State University and the walkways were heavily decorated as well.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled from beside you when he caught sight of the disgusted face you made on upon noticing the immense amount of love-centered holiday décor. “ESU really outdid themselves,” he mentioned, his brown eyes falling upon the pink and red twinkly lights that were twisted together and spiraling around the trees. Heart-shaped balloons swung beside the entrance of the dorm across the way. People had drawn on the sidewalks with chalk several little hearts and flowers, words of love written in the same hues as everything else. Even in the water fountain at the center of everything, they had turned the lights pink giving the water a rose tint.

“A little too much,” you shuddered after speaking. Valentine’s Day was very obviously not your cup of tea when it came to holidays. You never understood why people needed a whole day to show their love and appreciation for their significant other when it was really something you should be showing your person every day. It also bothered you a little because you never had someone to show all your love to on the damned day of hearts and flowers. The one time you had a boyfriend for a long period a couple years ago, you two broke up on February 13th so that only further encouraged your hatred for the day. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

Peter chuckled from your side at your dramatics, amused by your clear disdain for all things red and pink that surrounded you as you walked. That was one thing he loved about you. You always brought a smile to his face no matter what you did. He could come to you after a stressful week of tests or after a bad night on patrol and you would make him laugh and feel better within seconds. You did not even have to say anything. Maybe it was just your aura or your presence, but it made his mood rise tenfold.

“Why do you hate Valentine’s Day so much anyway?” he inquired. You two had only become friends since college, meeting in your biology class last semester after you asked if someone was sitting in the free seat next to him on the first day. Sitting next to each other led to snide remarks about your professor to each other and asking questions when things didn’t make sense. One day, he asked if you wanted to study with him for the first test at the library and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to spend more time with the cute curly-headed boy from your biology class. That opened the door to more study sessions and then sometimes y’all would study at the coffee shop across the street. Soon those turned into hanging out at the coffee shop and somewhere along the line, you two became really good friends.

“Valentine’s day just isn’t really my thing, you know bad experiences and all. I also don’t really like how it’s being shoved down our throats,” you told him simply, gesturing to the sheet signs that some of the sororities had made and hung up. You shrugged slightly before speaking once more. “I just don’t like it.”

Peter nodded slowly and you could visibly see the gears turning in his mind. You really knew he was thinking hard when he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue and his cinnamon brown irises danced around at everything in front of him. His eyebrows drew together as you both continued your walk to the coffee shop, and you could not watch him anymore without knowing what was going on in that big, beautiful brain of his.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Parker? I’m scared you’re gonna exert yourself if you think any harder,” you giggled when the words fell from your lips. He let his lip go from its captivity between his pearly whites and his eyes found you again, his signature smile showing on his face.

“I just had an idea,” he mentioned before leaning across you to press the button on the pole to signal traffic that you two were about to walk across the street as soon as the light changed. It was your turn to furrow your brows, but you did it in confusion instead of hard thinking.

“And would you like to share what it was or leave me in mystery?” you inquired with a quirked brow. He playfully rolled his eyes at you before beginning with his idea.

“So, this is just a thought and we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but what if we got out of the city for the weekend?” he proposed before he noticed the light change from an orange hand to the white outline of a man, signaling him that it was okay to walk. He looked both ways still before his hand found your lower back and he guided you across the street with him.

“Just you and me? Why?” you questioned further as you tried to ignore the warmth you felt inside you at the small but kind action he had just shown you.

“Well, you obviously hate Valentine’s Day so we could get away from all this stuff,” he told you as he gestured back towards the floral-colored campus that sat on the other side of the street.

“That I do,” you nodded in agreement as Peter pushed the door open for you and let you go in first. The overwhelming scent of coffee hit your nostrils like a train when you fully entered the building, Peter close behind. The coffee shop was always slightly busier on Friday’s but today was a bit much. The line was basically backed up to the door, leaving you and Peter squished against each other and the door. Somehow, y’all’s favorite spot in the corner was still available. “Do you want to stay here or go to the library?”

“We can stay if you want. You can go ahead and sit down so no one else steals our spot and I’ll get our drinks,” Peter suggested into your ear after you turned in the small space to face him properly.

“Okay, I want a-” you started but your words were cut off by the boy with who you were sharing your personal space at the moment.

“A hot chocolate with no whipped cream with those little marshmallows on top. I know. I got it,” he chuckled as his hand rested on your shoulder for a second. “Now go sit down before someone takes our spot.” You rolled your eyes at him before turning around and sitting in your seat, placing your book bag in the opposite place just in case someone tried to sit with you.

A few moments later after you and Peter shared a few glances while he waited in the lengthy line, he finally got to the counter and began to order your beverages. You had pulled out your laptop to see what all you needed to do over the weekend and surprisingly, there was not that much to do in comparison to the last few weeks that had been hell and you never really caught a break. Now it looked like you might be able to take a breather and do something fun rather than being holed up in your room writing a paper or studying for a test. All you had to do before Monday was two quizzes and a quick essay and you would be all done.

“Your hot chocolate ma’am,” Peter spoke jokingly as he presented the heated beverage to you. You rolled your eyes, taking the cup and setting it on the table.

“Shut up and sit down, Parker,” you quipped before moving your book bag so that he could do as you asked of him. He smiled at you and took the seat that he always sat in every time you both came to the small coffee shop.

“I don’t even know why you come to a coffee place so often if you don’t like coffee,” Peter mumbled as he took a small sip of his drink, grimacing as he pulled away when the caffeinated liquid was too hot to handle at the moment.

“For starters, that bean juice is disgusting. I don’t know how you drink it. Secondly, it doesn’t do anything for me as far as waking me up or getting me energized. Third, they make really good hot chocolate. And lastly, this is our spot, Peter. Of course I am going to come here all the time,” you informed him while you opened up a blank document on your computer, setting the font to Times New Roman, twelve-point, and making sure it was double spaced before you began typing your two-page essay on why technology is important and how it helps us every day. “Tell me more about this idea you were talking about earlier.”

“Oh yeah.” The boy across from you perked up and took another sip of his drink, forgetting that it was still too hot and burned his tongue. “So, this is what I was thinking. We finish all our schoolwork so that we have all weekend free. We can get out of here and find some place to explore, you know? Like we could find a hotel and just look around and go to new places. It would distract you from all the Valentine’s Day stuff and we could use the break from school since we’ve both been so busy lately.”

“I like that. Let’s do it! All I have is this small paper, our chemistry quiz, and a trig quiz and it shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours,” you said with a smile, excited for this weekend trip with your best friend and away from all things Valentine’s and school-related.

“I just have the chem quiz that I was waiting to do with you, so I can look for a place to go and a hotel,” he stated while sipping on his now cooled down coffee.

“Sounds like a plan.” So, then the searching began. You’d glance up at him from time to time to see his eyes trained on his computer screen, nodding his head as he read whatever information he was taking in from the device. The way his eyebrows were furrowed and how focused his brown eyes were on his laptop was a little funny to you, but you also thought it was cute. While you were watching him, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes diverted to you. “What?”

“I found the perfect place,” he told you with a big grin.

“Well tell me where, you idiot,” you chuckled but he shook his head, not quite ready to give you that information just yet.

“No, it’s a surprise,” he spoke softly as he typed at his keyboard. He then pulled out his phone to dial a number and put it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you pondered aloud, tilting your head at him.

“There are two hotels near there so I’m calling one right n- Hi, I was wondering if you have any rooms open for this weekend.” He paused to let the person on the other end talk but based on the way his shoulders slouched, you could tell that this one was a bust. “Okay, that’s fine. Thank you. You have a nice day.”

“No luck?” you asked though you knew the answer. He shook his head at you before looking back at his computer screen. “You going to call the other one?”

“Yep,” he sighed as he brought his phone back up to his ear and waited for someone to pick up. “Yes, hi. I was wondering if you had any rooms available for the weekend.” He shot you a smile when you heard the mumbles of whoever was on the other line, so you assumed it was good news. “Yes, it is two people, and we will be staying tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night.” You heard more mumbles from the other end before Peter’s voice cut them off. “Okay, we will take it! Thank you, sir.”

“That went a lot better,” you chuckled at the boy’s wide grin.

“Yeah and we’re lucky too because he said that was the last room they had.” You nodded at him as you finished up your paper.

“Proofread this for me? You always catch things I don’t,” you asked him when you turned your laptop towards him. He gladly took it and quickly skimmed over it, typing here and there at your misspellings or overbearing use of commas that he always picked on you about.

“Looks good. Ready for the chem quiz?” You nodded your head as you both opened the quiz and began to take it together.

...

“So, we’re leaving tonight?” you asked Peter as you both left the coffee shop after being there for a few hours. The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings of ESU and it made the campus look so pretty from across the street where you two stood, waiting your turn to cross.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go to our dorms, pack enough for a few days, then we’ll leave. It’s about two hours outside of the city so we will get there at around ten if we leave within the next hour and we’ll probably stop somewhere for dinner too.” You nodded along to Peter’s words as his hand found your lower back again to lead you across the street when the light changed.

“You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you Pete?” you grinned at the boy while walking next to him as you two approached the central water fountain, the lights illuminating it an even brighter shade of pink in the darker time of day.

“Of course I do. Anything for my best girl,” he chuckled when his arm slipped around your shoulders and pulled you into him. That nickname didn’t come often but it always brought butterflies in your tummy, but you knew there was nothing really to it. Did you really want something more with your best friend? Yes and no. You didn’t see a future with anyone else, but he’s your best friend and you also couldn’t see him and you in a romantic kind of relationship. Well, you could but you didn’t think it would ever happen, so you’ve pushed it into the depths of your mind.

After passing all the lovey-dovey shit that somewhat led to this whole weekend getaway, you both made it back to the dorms. You both went up to the fourth floor and parted ways at the elevator since your dorms were in different directions. Upon entering your room, you quickly emptied your bookbag of all its books and school things so that you could put some clothes in it.

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Raelyn, asked as she leaned against your door frame.

“Peter and I are going on a trip for the weekend,” you told her before you walked past her to get to the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and other things you needed from that area.

“Ooo where to?” she perked up. She was always so interested in your relationship with Peter, waiting for you and him to finally get together. She honestly thought you two were together a long time ago but was disappointed when she found out that you were not.

“I don’t know. He said it’s a surprise. All I know is that it’s about two hours outside the city and there are two hotels near it,” you filled her in as you packed the items that were just in your hands into the smaller pocket on your bag.

“A surprise trip where you stay in a hotel with Peter?” she gushed while wearing the biggest grin.

“Calm down, Rae. It’s just me and Peter going to explore some place to get away from school and all this Valentine’s shit and speaking of Valentine’s, what are you and Florence going to be doing?” You changed the subject effectively and watched the girl’s cheeks flush at the mention of her lovely girlfriend. They have been together for a few months now and this was their first Valentine’s Day together, so you knew she was excited. The girl loved love and she loved Florence, so this was perfect for her.

“We’re going to recreate our first date,” she spoke softly as she watched you go into the bathroom to get your shower things.

“Didn’t y’all do like a cute little picnic on a cliff and stargaze and stuff? Flo’s gonna love that,” you grinned at Rae while she childishly bit at her bottom lip to keep her smile from growing too big.

“Yeah, she’s making chocolate covered strawberries and I’m gonna go down to her favorite bakery and get some goodies as well. It’s gonna be a night to remember for sure,” she giggled before tucking some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “I was actually putting together a little scrapbook for her when I heard you come in, so I’ll let you finish packing for your Valentine’s trip with Peter-“

“It’s to get away from Valentine’s, Rae,” you corrected her as she playfully rolled her light-colored eyes at you.

“Anyway, I am going to get back to what I was doing, and you have fun with Peter. Be safe and use protection!” she shouted when she went back to her room.

“We won’t need it!” you yelled right back.

“Y/n, you dirty girl!” she joked, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

“Not like that, you dumbass. You are starting to sound like his aunt!” She just laughed in return and you finished your packing when you heard a knock at the door. “I’ll get it!” you shouted as you slung your bag onto your shoulder.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Peter asked when your eyes met his. You nodded your head before turning to say goodbye to Rae.

“Bye Rae. Have fun with Flo this weekend.” You shot her a wink and she giggled as she taped a heart to the corner of a picture of the two together on the page of the scrapbook she was currently working on. “You too! Bye y/n. Bye Peter!”

“Bye Rae!” Peter said loudly before you shut the door behind you and followed him out.

...

“How much longer?” you asked, getting antsy. It was almost ten and you really wanted to know where you would be spending your weekend.

“Like ten minutes. Chill out and eat your pringles,” he chuckled as he pointed to the green can of pringles that he had gotten you earlier when he stopped for gas. You huffed before grabbing some chips, placing a few in his opened hand, and keeping some for yourself. Peter kept one hand on the wheel while he munched on the chips you had given him in his other hand. You capped the can of pringles and leaned your head against your seatbelt a little.

“Okay, we’re here,” Peter told you as he lightly shook your shoulder since you were nearing sleep. You stirred a little, looking over to him while he unclicked his seatbelt and leaned over to do yours as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe the small bits of tiredness out of them, ignoring the slight fluttery feeling that took over your stomach at Peter’s action. You got out, slipping on your jacket that you were using as a blanket in the car to shield yourself from the crisp air of the cold February night. Both of you grabbed your bags from the back seat before Peter locked the car behind him and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him to provide some warmth for you both.

The hotel looked more like a large home or mansion, older looking too but it had a charm to it. It gave off a cozy and welcoming feel and you have not even entered its doors yet. Peter pushed the door to it open and let you in first, him following soon after. It looked even more comforting and homey on the inside as well. It was clearly a family business as there were family pictures hung upon the wall and the couches that sat around a small coffee table reminded you of your grandparent’s house, making you feel more at home.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the sweet voice of an older lady broke you from your thoughts when you looked over at her. She wore a pale yellow apron tied around her waist and a gentle smile upon her lips. You sent her a kind grin as well before Peter turned to you.

“You go sit down. I know you’re tired. I’ll handle this, okay?” You nodded at his words, an insuppressible yawn escaping your lips when you turned to go sit on one of the couches you noticed earlier and resting your head on your hand.

“Hi,” Peter started as he walked up to the front desk that the lady stood behind. “I talked on the phone earlier with a man. He said there was a room available for two.”

“Oh yes, that was George. Let me go get him right quick.” Peter nodded nicely at the woman before she left through a door behind the desk. He turned around to look at you close to sleep again. He didn’t notice the small smile that crept onto his face, but it was definitely there.

“He will be right here in just a second,” the woman spoke softly when she noticed the way Peter was looking at you. “She’s as cute as a button that girl. I’m sure you love her very much.” His head tilted slightly as to what the lady was referring to, but he shook it off.

“Yeah, I do.” He meant it in a friendly way, but the woman clearly thought he meant romantically based on her next words.

“Y’all make an adorable couple. I’ve loved seeing young lovers pass through here over the years. It’s cute.” Before Peter could protest her words, a man, George assumingly, walked in through the door that the lady went through earlier.

“Mr. Parker?” he asked as he searched on his computer for a moment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he chirped, feeling slightly awkward about the woman’s assumptions but did not let it bother him too much. Of course, Peter loved you and he would love to love you in that way, but something always held him back. Fear probably as he wouldn’t dare risk losing you as a best friend. You’re his whole world and if he confessed how he felt and it ruined your relationship, he would hate himself for it.

“Alright, you paid online, and everything is set for you. Here is the key and we hope y’all have a nice stay,” he grinned while passing over the key that had a red heart attached to it. So much for staying away from Valentine’s related things. The heart read ‘214’ so Peter took that as the room number.

“Thank you and have a nice night,” Peter returned the politeness back before turning to go get you. The sight of you sleeping was absolutely adorable to him and made his heart soar. You had shifted from leaning on your hand to hugging your book bag and leaning against that instead. He hated that he had to wake you up when you looked so precious.

“Hey, y/n,” he whispered when he crouched down in front of you and lightly shook your arm. You stirred awake, your tired eyes meeting his big brown ones, and hummed in response. “I’ve got the key. Let’s go upstairs and you can go back to sleep.” You nodded as you stood and stretched before slipping your bag back onto your arm.

“Good night you two! Y’all have fun,” the kind woman you smiled at earlier spoke softly as she shot you a wink and waved you two off. You and Peter both waved back to her and sent sweet smiles her way before you headed up the stairs, choosing to ignore her playful but peculiar gesture. After making it to the second floor, you let Peter lead the way as you leaned into him, his arm where it always was wrapped around your shoulders.

“Okay, I think this is it,” Peter announced when stopping in front of a door numbered 214. You yawned and nodded while watching him fiddle with the key that had a heart charm dangling from it. You found it to be quite cute, just another little thing to add to the allure of this whole hotel. After a second, Peter finally turned the key and opened the door, letting you go in first like the gentleman he always was. He stepped in behind and flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room that was decorated in a way you both least expected.

You busted out laughing at the sight before you. A rather large white circular bed sat against the wall which was normal, but the rose petals that littered the sheets were far from what you were thinking when it came to sharing a hotel room with Peter. Red curtains covered the windows, a large red chair sat in the corner by a tv, and candles sat on the bedside tables. The light that Peter had turned on was quite dim compared to normal lights but was perfect to set the mood for a couple looking to have a fun night which you and Peter were not. You turned to look at Peter whose cheeks were the reddest thing in the room and only laughed a little harder, tears springing to your eyes.

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I was trying to get you away from Valentine’s stuff, not bring you somewhere intended for it. God, I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, you gotta believe me,” he rambled on as you gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, your laughter making your knees weaker. You leaned your head against his shoulder, continuing to giggle but also trying to calm yourself down.

“P-Peter,” you stuttered through chuckles and took a deep breath to calm your laughter before looking up at him. “Peter,” you repeated a little more seriously and stared into his eyes with your tear-filled ones. You could tell he felt so bad, but you did not mind the room that much. It was really funny to you honestly. “It’s okay. This is okay. It’s hilarious actually so lighten up and laugh about it, but this is alright. We needed a place to sleep and this works so we’re good.”

“People have probably had sex on that bed,” he groaned before his eyes flickered over towards the petal-covered sheets and then back to you.

“People would have fucked on any bed at any hotel. Did we get the bed that a lot more people have probably had sex on? Yes, but I’m sure they changed the sheets and cleaned up.” Peter shuddered at your words before pouting again. “What?”

“I feel bad,” he muttered as he looked around at the room and then back to you, the girl who wanted to get away from campus because it looked similar to this. You sighed before wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, nuzzling your head under his chin.

“It’s okay, Pete. It doesn’t bother me, and we only have to sleep here. We have got a whole place to explore tomorrow and Sunday, right? So, don’t worry about the room. So far, it has been the highlight of my trip,” you told him before lifting your head up to look at him, a grin on your lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?” he mumbled, squeezing you tighter against him.

“Yeah, I know,” you joked just to hear his amused giggle, making your words worth it.

“Are you okay sleeping together or I can sleep in the big chair if you want?” Peter asked when he pulled away from you. You rolled your eyes at the boy before you.

“Peter, we’ve slept together on those tiny ass twin beds in the dorms. I think we can handle sharing the bed. It’s much bigger and probably much more comfortable as well,” you mentioned as you walked to the bed and sat your bag down on it, ruffling through your things to find your charger. “Unless you’re scared of the sex that’s been had on it,” you teased, wiggling your brows at him tauntingly, “then the chair is all yours.”

“Shut up,” he quipped when he followed your actions and rummaged through his bag for his clothes. “Are you showering tonight or in the morning?”

“The morning. I am too tired to shower right now,” you spoke and yawned as if on cue.

“Great so I’m spending the night with a stinky girl,” he joked while your jaw dropped.

“I do not stink,” you playfully pouted while slipping your hefty jacket off your arms.

“Well,” he shrugged as if he was trying to tell you that you really smelled bad without hurting your feelings.

“Peter!” you frowned, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I’m kidding, y/n. You always smell nice,” he reassured as he collected his clothes and walked towards the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. You took the opportunity to pull out your pajamas which was an ESU sweatshirt and some pink pajama pants you had stolen from Peter. As soon as you heard the water start, you changed and pushed the rose petals to the side, letting them fall to the floor before you hopped in bed and got comfortable under the covers. Though for some reason, you were not as tired as you were previously and couldn’t just fall asleep as easily, so you got on your phone for a moment. Not long after, the water shut off from in the bathroom and a damp, curly-headed Peter Parker emerged from its door.

“The bath is shaped like a heart,” Peter told you before he walked over to his bag to set his dirty clothes beside it.

“You’re kidding,” you giggled, setting your phone down next to you to properly look at him, his wet curls making you feel some type of way though you wouldn’t show that.

“I’m not,” he chuckled, running a light hand through damp hair. He walked over to the light switch to turn the dim light off before he walked back to the bed and climbed in next to you.

“You really got the lover’s suite, didn’t you? You know you could’ve just asked me to be your Valentine. I probably would’ve said yes,” you teased the boy who you laid beside, hearing an exasperated sigh leave his lips.

“It was the only room they had,” he protested while you turned to face him, though you could not see much in the darkness. “And probably? You better say yes if I were to ask you such a question.”

“I’d say yes, you dumbass. We were likely to spend Valentine’s Day together anyway. We’re together all the time,” you pointed out and he hummed in response.

“Yeah, you’re right, but you really aren’t mad about this? I planned this whole thing to get away from all the hearts and flowers and love and stuff,” he brought up, shifting in bed to face you as well. You could hear the worry in his tone, so you reached out your hand to find his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

“You also said it was to get away from school and take a break. We’ve both been busy bees these last few weeks and we needed this, so don’t worry. The room is fine,” you spoke calmly. Though you could barely see in the dark, you could just hardly make out a smile on his face, or at least you could feel the presence of it.

“Now that I think about it, it makes a lot more sense as to why that lady downstairs thought we were a couple,” Peter thought out loud. You chuckled thinking about how she winked at you and told you to ‘have fun tonight’. Silence overcame you both and you let go of Peter’s hand to turn the other way to hopefully fall asleep.

“Hey y/n,” Peter mumbled after a while of no speaking.

“Yeah,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly towards him.

“Can I ask you something?” His words filled the void around you, and it was all you could hear. He sounded serious, but not like it was something about him but more of a curiosity question.

“Of course,” you muttered, laying on your back and facing the boy.

“Earlier when I asked why you hated Valentine’s Day so much, you mentioned something about bad experiences. Can I ask what that was?” You knew it was your curious Peter just asking a random question as it normally was, but you understood why he used an earnest tone.

“Yeah, I, uh, used to date this guy my senior year of high school and I was like head over heels for him. We had been dating for almost ten months and then the day before Valentine’s Day, I found out he cheated on me with my best friend at the time, so I lost the two people I loved and trusted most all in one day. The last few months of high school weren’t fun, and I was ready to get to college so I applied to ones that I knew they couldn’t get into. That led me to ESU and then I met you,” you explained, “and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

“Oh y/n. I’m sorry about all that. I know that had to suck,” Peter softly spoke before his hand found yours to help comfort you this time.

“It’s okay. It was high school, so I kinda expected it to be hell. I was just lucky enough that I didn’t have to experience the hell of it until the very end. And on the bright side, I have you and Rae and Florence is becoming a good friend of mine too so it worked out for the better.” Peter repeated your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner.

“Yeah, that’s a nice way to look at it,” Peter mumbled while drawing little circles into your skin. The motions of it had brought you a sense of great peace and comfort and were helping you feel sleepier. You were getting closer to a nice long slumber when you felt him pull his hand away.

“Wait, give me that back. It was helping me go to sleep,” you whined. Peter’s chuckle sounded throughout the room before his hand found yours again and began the circular motions with his thumb on your hand. With that, you were asleep in seconds.

...

You were slightly awakened when you felt something move on top of you. Then the fact that something moved on you made your eyes shoot open because last you checked you fell asleep with nothing on you, but now there was definitely something there. You also realized you felt something around you as well. When you opened your eyes, you saw the brown shade of Peter’s nest of curls resting on your chest and put together that he cuddled into you in his sleep. You lifted your head slightly to look at the clock that sat on his nightstand and saw that it was almost nine, so you decided to get up and shower, letting Peter sleep in a little longer. Slowly, you tried to slip out of his grasp without waking him, but as soon as you tried to move, his arms pulled you in tighter. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you tapped at his arm.

“Uh, Peter,” you whispered softly. He stirred a little but did not wake up. “Pete, I need to get up.” He squinted one eye open and saw what you were talking about.

“Oh yeah uh sorry,” he stammered while lifting his body off you. You smiled and rolled your eyes as you slipped out of the warmth and comfort of Peter and the bed to get some clothes for the day. Peter rubbed at his eyes before turning in the sheets, placing his face into the pillow, and trying to fall back asleep. Heading to the bathroom, you chuckled at the boy and opened the door. Once your eyes fell upon the heart-shaped bathtub that Peter was talking about last night, another giggle escaped you as you thought about the events that happened before you fell asleep. Only Peter Parker, the smartest person you know, would get the lover’s suite on a trip to get away from all that stuff.

“You ready?” Peter asked once you were all showered and dressed, appearing to be ready for the day that you knew nothing about.

“I think so,” you told him as you followed him out the door, shoving your phone into your jacket pocket.

“Good morning lovebirds. Did the lovely pair have a nice night?” the lady from the previous night asked you both when she saw you two coming down the stairs.

“Yes, we did, Mrs. Milly,” you answered, completely disregarding the ‘lovebirds’ part, as you read the name that was printed on the different apron she was wearing today. “I love your name. I have a cat named Milly.”

“Aww thank you, but you can just call me Milly or Mildred. Whichever you prefer,” she spoke kindly as she sat in the desk chair.

“I like Mildred,” you mused, leaning against the counter.

“Thank you,” she grinned at you before she asked, “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re n-“ Peter started but you cut him off with the jab of your elbow into his side, the whole action being shielded from the older lady with the counter.

“Six months,” you answered before turning to Peter who gazed at you in confusion. “Isn’t that right, Pete?”

“Y-yes,” he agreed, nodding at Mildred. She smiled warmly at you both before speaking again.

“Well, I won’t keep you cuties any longer. Y’all probably have a whole day planned.”

“That we do. We’ll see you later, Mildred,” you told her as you and Peter both waved at her before leaving the cozy hotel.

“Uh what was that?” Peter asked as soon as you two got in the car.

“What? Why I elbowed you?” you questioned, reaching up to grab your seatbelt and clicking it in.

“Yeah, and why you pretended we were dating,” he stated while placing the keys in the ignition and turning them, the car roaring to life in response.

“Do you really want to explain to that poor old woman that you’re a dumbass who got that room for a weekend with his best friend?” He instantly saw your point and did not bother arguing any further. “Yeah, I also didn’t want to break her heart because she really seems to like us, even if that may be as a couple.”

“That makes sense,” he hummed, pulling out of the parking space and beginning to drive on the main road.

“So where to Parker?” you asked since you had literally no idea what he had planned for the day.

“Okay so there’s a little diner between here and the nearest town, so I was thinking we go to the diner for breakfast, then there’s a cool science museum that looked interesting and it has a planetarium too so we can check that out. There is a somewhat rundown mall that looked like something you’d really like. There’s a really pretty park too that we can go to. Does any of this sound good or should we go somewhere else?” Peter asked when you had stayed quiet throughout his whole explanation.

“No Pete, it sounds perfect. I’m really excited,” you said with the hugest grin on your face.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chirped before further explaining some more things that y’all could do.

...

“The planetarium was the best part for sure,” you told Peter as you walked beside him in the mall he brought up earlier. There were a good bit of people there for a place that was considered to be rundown or abandoned, but it was probably just one of the attractions of this lovely town. While some of the shops were closed, others were open and the food court still had some running businesses as well. The whole building itself was older but the inside was pretty alive and well. It was an interesting sight to see. “So where do you want to eat for lunch?”

“You pick,” he stated quickly. He always let you pick, but this time you didn’t want to.

“No Peter. You have planned this whole trip and made me happy. You pick lunch at least and you know food’s on me since you paid for the hotel so don’t even try that.” He chuckled lightly at your words before his big brown eyes scanned his options for your next meal. His options were limited to a Chinese restaurant, a pizza place, and a soup and sandwich spot.

“I think soup and sandwiches would be pretty good,” he mentioned as he met your eyes to see if you agree. With a quick smile and nod, it was evident that you did agree so the two of you walked toward the small soup shop and got in line behind a few other people.

“So, I was thinking that for the rest of the day, we could…” You let Peter’s words drown out as you looked around at the people that you could see outside of the window that showed the mall. Several different shoppers walked around the old place, but the back of someone in particular looked oddly familiar to you so your eyes darted to who they were talking to and that person was more familiar than you would have liked. The face of someone you had hoped you would never see again stood across the mall and your eyes basically bulged out of your head. On instinct, you grabbed Peter’s arms and shifted his body to stand between you and the guy, hoping he did not catch your gaze.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Peter’s soft and concerned voice broke through your thoughts for a moment before they resumed. How? How could this be happening? You tried so hard to get away from him? And of course, you would find him on the same day he broke your heart two years ago.

“I- yeah. I need to hide and it’s either you stand there and block me, or I go under that table,” you told him, giving him not a clue as to what was going on. Peter slowly turned his body to look at the source of the problem and you caught his eyes, the blue ones that you used to think everything of staring right back at you. “I used to eat playdough under the table as a kid,” you blurted out, your hand quickly slapping over your mouth at your sudden confession.

“What?” Peter mustered, a small smile cracking on his face in amusement.

“Sorry, I say random things when I’m nervous. You know that,” you reminded the curly-headed boy who stood before you with a teasing grin illuminating his features.

“I do know that, but seriously. Playdough?” You slapped at his chest when he laughed at your despair. Out the corner of your eye, you could see your ex and his friend wrapping up their conversation and it appeared like he was leaning towards your direction and anxiety filled you.

“Stop, this isn’t funny. Laugh about that later but right now I need a favor.” Peter’s giggles subsided at your serious tone and he was attentive to whatever you needed. “Act like my boyfriend.”

“What?” he questioned, dumbfounded with wide eyes.

“Just put your arm around me and make me laugh or something,” you instructed of him. Though it was normal for him to have an arm around you, he was a bit hesitant to it now but nonetheless, his arm found its normal spot around your shoulders, nice and friendly.

“No Peter. God, you’re helpless,” you sighed before you grabbed his hand that rested on your shoulder and placed it on your waist. A light dusting of red scattered upon Peter’s cheeks when you leaned your head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

“He’s here. That guy I was looking at, that’s the reason I hate Valentine’s Day so much.” He nodded understandingly at your words when you looked up at him and his thumb absentmindedly began to rub against your waist, the minuscule action bringing you much comfort. On your way to put your head back down on his shoulder, your eyes caught the blue ones again and you saw him say goodbye to his friend and step in the direction of the soup shop. Your breath hitched and only one thing came to mind as a way to get him to leave you alone or give him some hint that you weren’t available.

“Peter, kiss me,” you half asked, half told him while his eyebrows shot up and brown eyes widened.

“Wha- y/n, I don’t know,” he stammered, gazing deeply into your eyes to make sure you were being completely sure about this, not joking or pulling some funny shit. “This doesn’t seem-“

“Shut up and kiss me,” you spoke sternly before your hand found his cheek, cupping his beautiful face. Your eyes darted between his for a bit of consent and he slightly nodded so you went for it. Your lips connected with his while his other arm wrapped around your waist as well, pulling your body closer to his. Your free hand found the nape of his neck, trailing upwards to thread your fingers through those soft brown locks of his. Kissing Peter was something you never really saw yourself doing, but it was nice. He was surprisingly good at it and he seemed to be enjoying himself as well.

“Next in line,” the man behind the counter repeated himself since you two were too involved with each other to hear him the first time. You both jumped apart, Peter too in a trance to understand what was happening while you grabbed his hand and walked up to the counter.

“Oh sorry, hi! Can I get a cup of broccoli and cheese soup and a grilled cheese? Peter, what do you want?” you asked him, lightly tugging at his hand that you held.

“Uhh,” he stammered as his eyes trailed over their menu but he couldn’t focused on reading the words after what had just happened. “I think I’ll have the same.”

After you ordered and paid, you two found a spot to sit and finally had to face what had just occurred. Peter’s eyes were trained on you while yours were darting all around to see if you could find your ex, but thankfully, the coast was clear.

“He’s gone,” you sighed before meeting Peter’s gaze. “Thank god, I hated that,” you chuckled before pulling out your phone to scroll mindlessly through it.

“I mean I didn’t think it was that bad, but it has been a while since I’ve kissed someone so I-“

“No Pete,” you breathily laughed. “I hated him being here, not the kiss. You aren’t half bad, Parker.” His cheeks tinted pink at the compliment and yours warmed up a fuzz as well. Before you two could continue the conversation, someone came up to your table with your food.

...

“You two must have had a busy day. I haven’t seen you two since nine this morning and it's almost eleven now,” Mildred stated warmly when you and Peter walked in through the front door, chuckling about a deer that was staring at him funnily before y’all came in.

“We did,” Peter grinned at the kind woman, walking behind you as you stepped up to the desk. It was something about this woman that you loved, and you felt like you could talk to her about anything. She just had a cozy aura about her that matched the hotel’s atmosphere perfectly.

“Yes, we did. We went to the science museum, the planetarium, the mall, a park, walked around the town a bit, and then we watched The Sound of Music at the theater,” you explained to Mildred.

“Oh, I love that movie,” she gushed with a wide grin, her eyes just as wide as she took in your words. You could tell she genuinely loved hearing about your day and she truly was a really sweet lady.

“She does too. It’s one of her favorites,” Peter spoke from beside you, your eyes meeting his when your lips curved upwards at his thoughtfulness.

“You both are so precious! And I am sure you are tired too, so I won’t keep you any longer. I should head to bed myself. Good night y’all,” Mildred told you, her words followed by a yawn as she stood from the desk chair.

“Good night,” you and Peter said simultaneously before Peter’s hand found the small of your back, leading you towards the stairs.

“I really like her,” you told Peter when you made it to the top of the staircase.

“Mildred? Yeah, she’s a nice lady,” Peter agreed as you both walked towards your room, his hand still guiding you there.

“She reminds me of a really nice grandma and it’s a plus that she has the same name as my cat,” you chuckled while Peter’s hand left your back to place the key in the door.

“We should go visit Milly some time. I haven’t seen her in a while,” Peter mentioned, swinging the door open and letting you in first.

“Yeah, I miss her and she probably misses you too. She really liked you and so did my dad which was surprising,” you chuckled before flopping down onto the circular bed, the replaced rose petals jumping up when your body hit the mattress.

“He did? He did not act like it. He actually scared me a bit,” Peter told you as his hands fumbled through the contents of his bag, looking for something to sleep in. You let out a yawn after nodding to answer his question. “I assume you’re showering in the morning again?”

“Yeah,” you yawned out as you rolled over to find yourself some pajamas. “Let me brush my teeth before you get in there, okay?”

“Okay, but you’ve got ten seconds,” Peter teased, eyes gauging your reaction.

“Not all of us have superpowers, dork. I can barely get my toothbrush ready in that time.”

“Twenty seconds,” he offered like that was somehow better and you rolled your eyes before walking into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna brush them slower than I ever have before, so you’ll just have to wait.” It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, knowing you were lying. While you glided the toothbrush over your teeth, you heard Peter yell something from in the bedroom.

“Ew!” he shouted and that was followed by the sound of something falling.

“What?” you asked while still brushing your teeth when you walked back into the room. Peter’s face showed nothing but pure disgust and a slight embarrassment as he pointed down into the open drawer of his nightstand. Your eyebrows furrowed when you walked over to the scene to see a pair of fluffy red handcuffs in the drawer. While laughing, you rolled your eyes at Peter. “You wanted the lover’s suite,” you joked, turning to go back to the bathroom.

“It was a mistake! He said they only had one room left and you would think on Valentine’s Day that this one would be taken but obviously not. I am never going to live this down, am I?” Peter exasperated as you finished up in the bathroom.

“Sorry Pete, but no. This is the funniest thing and I will never let it go. Wait until I tell Flash in physics Monday,” you told him while exiting the bathroom. He wore a frown when he passed you, trudging on his way to take a shower. Unlike the night before, you were able to fall asleep pretty quickly after you changed and got in bed.

...

This morning, you did not wake up with Peter on top of you. You were in fact cuddled into him, your arm around his torso and head against his chest, but you were far too tired to care or move.

“Are you awake?” Peter whispered upon feeling you move slightly.

“No,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. His laughter sounded above your head before he spoke up again.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think our plans for today have been canceled. It is supposed to rain really badly all day like practically monsoon out there, so we’re stuck,” he muttered into the space around you. At that moment, you did notice the sound of the pattering rain outside the window.

“That’s okay. We can just have a movie day like we normally do on Sundays and we can sleep in a little more if that’s okay with you,” you spoke with your eyes closed, really dreading waking up since the comfort of the bed and Peter felt too good to leave.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he softly spoke, his arm that sat around your waist tightening for a second.

“Do you want me to move?” you muttered before picking your head up to look at him. You knew your hair was all over the place, but you didn’t have a care at all for its tangled state. Peter’s lips turned upwards into a soft smile as his hand came up to push some of that hair behind your ear.

“I don’t mind. You can stay if you want,” his gentle voice spoke, calming and sweet. You nodded your head before laying your head back on his chest.

“Say less.”

After a few more hours of shut-eye, you finally got up since it was nearing lunchtime, but you made sure to leave Peter sleeping. You reached in your bag for those pringles from the other day and quietly tiptoed over to the large comfy chair to sit there and eat chips while you scrolled through TikTok, the volume incredibly low as not to wake him.

“You left me,” you heard Peter’s pouty voice speak from the bed. Your eyes shot up to meet his as you held up a chip.

“You were sleeping and I wanted to eat these without waking you.” Peter rubbed at his eyes and laid back down for a second before his legs swung over the bed’s edge, sitting up. He came to sit next to you, the chair just barely big enough for you both, and stuck his hand in the Pringles can. “Let me see,” he mumbled, referring to the TikTok you were watching so you shifted in the seat so that your back laid against his front, your head on his shoulder so you could watch the short videos together. The both of you seemed to be substantially clingy since waking up, but you both also didn’t mind it.

It had been about an hour or so of sitting there, eating chips, and laughing at tiktoks before one of you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s already one o’clock,” Peter mentioned as his eyes flittered back to you after looking at the clock.

“Really?” you asked before you checked the time on your phone. “I guess you’re right.”

“Are you hungry? I’m not after the pringles,” Peter asked as he looked down at you still rested against his shoulder.

“Yeah, me neither,” you added, “so we can stay in our pajamas a little longer.” You stood from the chair you shared with him and went to the window to look outside. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was gonna monsoon out here. It’s basically flooding,” you announced after pushing back the red curtains to get a better look. Peter hopped up and followed your previous footsteps, standing behind you and peering over your shoulder. A huff came from him before his head plopped onto your shoulder, you looking down at his grumpy expression and trying to suppress a giggle.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can have a super fun movie day. Cheer up buttercup,” you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. You had never done anything like that before with him but felt bold in the moment. It was just a harmless little kiss and meant nothing, so there was nothing wrong with it in your eyes. When you pulled away, he wore a face of pure surprise as he watched you walk over to the remote. “Let’s find something to watch and we can sit in the chair or lay around in the bed and it will be really fun, okay?” Reluctantly, the still-shocked boy nodded his head before crawling into the bed. You followed suit and channel surfed until you found a Star Wars movie, the perfect thing to lift his spirits.

About an hour into it, you were beginning to get cold. You started to realize why each of you gravitated towards the other the past two nights. It was to seek out warmth and now you really wanted to cuddle up next to him, but you felt weird for asking that and you definitely were not just going to do it on your own.

“Y/n, your teeth are fucking chattering. Get over here,” Peter spoke up at the perfect moment. You hesitated for like a second before sliding into his open arms and wrapping yours around his torso.

“My teeth weren’t chattering, asshole,” you quipped as you relaxed against his body, finally feeling warmer.

“No, but I could tell you were cold and I was a little too, so I decided to fix both our problems.” You giggled against his chest before your eyes settled back on the TV screen, watching Leia talk to her brother. After watching one of his favorite movies, y’all watched one of your favorite movies which was Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkaban, and then a couple of Grey’s Anatomy episodes until you heard Peter’s stomach rumble beneath your ear.

“Maybe we should go get something to eat,” you suggested with a giggle as Peter’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment. “You could’ve told me you were hungry.”

“Yeah, but I know how much you love this show and I was going to wait until the end of this episode before saying something,” he told you while you sat up from his embrace. “Do you have anything in mind about what you want to eat?”

“Not really,” you answered when you stretched, reaching your arms up towards the ceiling. “All I know is that I don’t want to change, but I don’t want Mildred to pick on me for these,” you told him as you pointed to the pink pajama pants you have worn the last two nights.

“Hey, Mr. Stark got me those and you seemed to love them the one time you wore them so I gave them to you,” Peter explained as he sat up himself. “And I doubt she’d pick on you for those. She’d probably say you look cute in them or something.”

“She does think we are cute, doesn’t she?” you smiled, thinking of the nice old woman downstairs. “I’m gonna miss her.”

“I’m sure she’ll miss you too,” Peter chuckled at the fast connection you had made with the woman in a matter of a few short conversations.

“We should make this a tradition. Like every year on Valentine’s, go to a different place and explore or I would not mind coming here just so I could see Mildred and we could always get this room as a joke. I have had a lot of fun this weekend, Peter. This was a great idea,” you told him as you slipped your shoes on and Peter pulled on a dark blue sweatshirt over the hoodie he was already wearing.

“What would we do if we get boyfriends or girlfriends?” Peter inquired, grabbing his car keys.

“Go the weekend before or after. We will still be best friends, Parker,” you giggled at him after you put your coat on and followed him out the door.

“There you two are! I was beginning to think y’all passed out up there,” Mildred spoke as her eyes fell upon your outfits, Peter in a sweatshirt, hoodie, and sweatpants and you in your pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and your coat. “Well did y’all just wake up?”

“No ma’am,” Peter lightly laughed. “The rain kind of ruined our plans so we stayed in and watched movies and now we’re going to pick up something for dinner.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Y’all are just cute as a button in your pajamas. Y’all are probably starving so you two go ahead. I won’t keep you any longer,” Mildred spoke and shooed you two closer to the door. You both said your goodbyes before stepping out the door and onto the porch. Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you ducked your head into his chest before you both ran together towards his car.

“We never decided on where to eat,” you brought up as soon as you both were in the car.

“Oh yeah. What about pizza? Or burgers? Both sound really good right now,” Peter offered, his mouth practically watering before you at the thought of some food.

“Either sounds great to me.” So, he looked up which one was closer and drove to a local pizza parlor. The place was not but fifteen minutes away and since Peter called ahead as soon as you two got in the car, it was ready when you had arrived. All y’all had to do was pick it up and you did exactly that. Now, you were on the way back to the hotel and though you had a warm box of pizza resting in your lap, you were quite cold.

“Are you freezing?” you asked the driver whose brown eyes flickered to yours for a moment before finding the road again, squinting a bit to see through the heavy rain that persisted to fall.

“Yeah, a little.” At the same time, you and Peter both reached for the knob that controlled the temperature of the air that flowed through the vehicle, your hands brushing against each other. Immediately, you both retracted your hands and heat rushed to your cheeks. A second later, Peter reached out again and turned the knob to the right to get some warmer air.

“Um, I think we should talk about something,” the boy announced while something in the air shifted, feeling thicker and slightly more suffocating. You kept your eyes trained ahead of you as well before you spoke up.

“Uh, yeah. I guess we should.”

“Something has definitely changed between us this weekend. We don’t act like the same two best friends that we used to,” Peter mentioned, not sparing you a glance. You looked over at him to see his face, but not even his face showed you any indication of what was going through that pretty little head of his.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to make the conversation a little more light-hearted and less serious. You didn’t see much of a big deal. Yes, you both had been clingier and you two shared a kiss, a damn good one at that, but that was to distract someone who had broken you with no remorse from coming your way. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to think there was more to this and his serious tone frightened you a tad, not really ever being so pensive about anything other than school. “I don’t see an issue.”

“So, you’re okay with cuddling and kisses and stuff like that?” The way he said that and gave you the most incredulous look made you feel as if your presence was not wanted by him. Maybe you were not wanted by him. It wouldn’t be a first in your life. No, your brain fought itself, he wouldn’t have planned all this for you if he didn’t love you.

“We only kissed once,” you stated while his normally soft brown eyes stared coldly through the windshield. “I’m sorry if I messed something up by doing that, but you didn’t exactly fight it, Peter.”

“No, that’s not- never mind that kiss, but the one this morning. You kissed me on my cheek.”

“Because you seemed upset!” your voice rose ever so slightly as you fought your point, a feeling you have never felt about Peter bubbling in your chest. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, and sadness. You were also growing annoyed with the conversation as a whole and were ready to get back to the hotel which was mere minutes away. “I didn’t think there was that much to it.”

“It’s not something friends do,” Peter argued not sparing you so much as a glance or some hint as to what he was trying to get at.

“Why do I feel like you are blaming me for how we’ve gotten closer over the past few days? You’ve been acting awful cozy as well,” you tried to calm your voice a little as you spoke, but you hated being blamed for things, especially stupid things like this. “We’re best friends, Peter. It’s okay to be a little closer than normal. It’s okay to cuddle, hold hands, or kiss each other on the cheek. I will admit that the kiss yesterday might have been a bit much, but all the other stuff is perfectly normal. I’ll back off if you want, but don’t come at me when you have been doing the same thing and initiating it sometimes too.”

“Those are things that couples do. I have never done that with my best friends. Granted, you’re my first girl best friend that isn’t terrified to touch or interact with another person, but that’s beside the point,” Peter said as he turned into the hotel lot and found a place to park. “I’ve only ever done this kinda thing with a girlfriend and we aren’t dating. I couldn’t date you, y/n.”

That last sentence struck a nerve in you. I couldn’t date you, y/n. Why the hell not? What was so wrong with you that he couldn’t date you? The words brought you back to a place you were a couple years ago when everything that made you hate today happened. You were so easily replaced by both your boyfriend and best friend. You were never really wanted around by them, and you hated yourself for not noticing sooner. Well, you did notice, but you had hope that it was all in your head until you were proved otherwise.

Was the same thing about to happen with you and Peter? Were you going to lose the only person outside of your family that you loved and spent all your time with? If he couldn’t date you, then how could he be your best friend? The two things were terribly similar with the only differences being sexual intimacy and a different kind of love. Peter was your soulmate for sure, maybe not romantically, though you had hoped otherwise, but he was meant to be with you. Now he did not seem to want to be near you.

You didn’t recognize it, but tears had pooled in your eyes, not yet fallen though. Your breathing felt different, quicker, and you felt like you were losing all that was important to you, him. You had always hoped that sometime in the future you and Peter would get together. You two had made a pact a while ago that if you hadn’t found someone by the age of twenty-six, you two would start dating and then get married within the following year or two. That idea was now seemingly being thrown out the window since he couldn’t date you.

“Y/n…” Peter sighed, his hand reaching out to grab yours but you were quick to pull it away.

“I thought friends didn’t do that,” you threw his words right back at him before you got out, leaving the pizza in your seat and slamming the door shut behind you. Now that you were in the rain, you let your tears flow since they now just appeared to anyone else as raindrops on your face. You tried to speed walk towards the hotel for two reasons: to get away from Peter and to get out of the rain. However, the damn arachnid abilities of your best friend made him much quicker, his hand catching your arm and spinning you back to face him.

You hated yourself for the thoughts running through your mind. The rain on his face that dripped down his cheeks and nose was insanely attractive, and the water made his curls droop onto his forehead, another thing that made him look irresistible. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but how could you after the last one caused so much damage obviously since it was one of the things behind this argument.

“Y/n, that’s not what I meant,” he spoke, his honey brown eyes darted between your own. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were. Did he think the water droplets sliding down your face looked pretty? Did he think you were pretty? He had commented on your appearance before, saying you looked beautiful on random occasions but now it all seemed meaningless.

“What did you mean, Peter? How else was I supposed to take that?” you argued with the boy. You didn’t care if he could tell the difference between the freshwater drops on your face and the saltwater tears because his words hurt you and he should know that.

“Of course, I could date you. I would love to date you! You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid eyes on and I’m still shocked that you choose to hang out with me every day. Why do you think I made that pact about us dating when we’re older? I can’t wait until then because we promised we’d get together. You do not know how much I hope you don’t find someone before then because my only chance to be with you will be gone because I certainly don’t have to balls to ask you out. The only reason I am telling you all of this now is because I’m scared I’ll lose you, y/n. I can’t even bear to think about that right now. I am an idiot and I’m sorry. I’m so sorr-“

“Peter!” you snapped, tired of hearing his rambles as you desperately wanted to feel his lips against your own.

“What?” he asked, brows knitted and eyes locked on yours.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you repeated the words that you said before your first kiss with the boy as you watched a smile grow on his lips. His hands were quick to cup your cheeks as he brought your face to his, lips connecting and a fire ignited within you both. His left hand slid from your cheek down your shoulder and arm until he found your waist and pulled you closer to his body. You gripped onto his bicep with one hand while your other found the back of his head, your fingers running through the dampened curls. A thought immediately popped in your head and you acted on it, tugging on the strands which resulted in his lips parting. Your plan was achieved successfully, and you slipped your tongue into the entrance. He followed suit and after a little bit, you both needed a little oxygen.

“Um, wow. That was um-“ Peter stumbled over his words, trying to muster up the perfect ones to say in fear of screwing up again. “Nice.” You chuckled at his awkwardness, leaning your head on his forehead and looking up at him.

“Yeah, I agree,” you breathed as your eyes scanned all over his features, taking in every bit of this beautiful moment. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n,” Peter responded with a grin, happy he could make you see the holiday as a little more enjoyable for you. The sound of his stomach growling interrupted the moment, and a laugh left your lips. “I’m gonna get the pizza.”

“You do that,” you chuckled at the hungry boy as he walked to the passenger side door, swinging it open to grab the square cardboard box. “You know Mildred is going to kill us. We’re out here drenched in our pajamas in the cold.”

“Yeah, she definitely will,” Peter agreed while walking up the steps with you, “but we can do it together.” He held his free hand out to you for you to take which you gladly did, interlacing your fingers with his. You got up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as well.

“Together.”

--------------------------------------------------

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

Text

SUGA: “This is the only thing I know how to really do”

#bangtan #suga #m:weverse magazine #210731

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bigteefsmallbrain · 3 years

Text

MORE SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS

Someone called the first set cute and I am unbelievably determined to make their goddamn day/night now, also, just realized you could get around the talking barrier with your soulmate if you direct your speaking at yourself, though I imagine that would be quite hard without a lot of focus or practice, so I’m implementing that in this set, hope you enjoy!!

WARNING: For Midoriya Izuku - Mentions of past fish death; For Umino Iruka - Mentions of his parents passing; and For Erza Scarlet - Death, the Tenrou island incident, signs of depression and loss of a loved one [It turns happy though]

SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS FOR: Izuku Midoriya, Iruka Umino, Erza Scarlet

Izuku Midoriya

Welcome to your own personal hero encyclopedia

Literally your best friend when it comes to quizzes and homework

If you so much as mutter to yourself a question

He is mumbling to himself the answer and all the steps to solve it

Brain = Autopilot

He doesn’t even consider that you might have been rhetorical

Or that you might be taking a quiz

Soulmate asked a question and he’d rather die than not mutter the answer to himself under his breath so his soulmate can hear

He’s your worst enemy sometimes too though

Trying to sleep? Nah, listen to him fanboy over a hero documentary instead

Trying to have a little you time? Funny joke, you’re learning about All Might now

You now know the weirdest facts about heroes

And events that most teachers don’t know about

May I suggest a heroics history teaching job?

Unfortunately, you also have to listen to his crying

I don’t mean it in a bad way

But you have no way to comfort him

Literally all you want to do is give him a hug and comfort him

But all you can do is say comforting words to yourself

Hoping he’ll hear them over his broken, heart wrenching sobs

But don’t worry, he does, he hears everything you say to yourself

He has a notebook dedicated to you and o n l y you

He nearly ripped Bakugo’s head off when the blonde accidentally burnt it’s pages when they were younger

Yeah, fun times [Bakugo double checked that it was the h e r o notebook and not the s o u l m a t e notebook when he burnt it in middle school, never again would he risk hearing his last name be spit venomously from the green haired males mouth]

He writes down anything he deems memorable [AKA nearly everything] that you say

He notes things you have difficulty towards academically and makes sure to break it down and read the now less complex version aloud in hopes he’s helped you

He has, he’s probably the main reason you’re in the top 5 academically

But also he loves hearing your meaningless rambles

You have scared him a few times

“Wait, is he dead? Oh no! Please don’t tell me he’s dead!”

w h a t

“I don’t think I can handle mom crying over another fish.”

Oh, just a fish, thank All Might, he nearly went into cardiac arrest

They brighten his day, and he can’t wait to meet you and tell you just how thankful he is that you’re his soulmate

Just like you can’t wait to hit him upside the head for all the sleepless nights he’s caused with his fanboy behavior

Okay, but when you do meet, you immediately ask for Bakugo

You give zero fucks about possibly being expelled/sent to prison

Hell hath no fury like you who had to listen to their soulmates broken cries over the blondes treatment for years

And Izuku can only hold you back for so long

He definitely wants to see your quirk in action when you meet

And when demonstrating he’s mumbling all the uses and possible ideas

While also complimenting you and how amazing you are

He doesn’t even notice he’s doing it

If you do it back, he WILL blue screen

Midoriya Izuku.exe has stopped working

He literally freezes on the spot

Iruka Umino

Oh do we love our dear teacher

Maybe a little too much

But we don’t talk about that

IRUKA IS THE TYPE TO MUTTER A SWEET SOFT “Good morning my soulmate” TO HIMSELF EVERY DAY AS HE WAKES UP SO YOU CAN HEAR IT AND YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

He will also say other things, like “I made pancakes for breakfast, I wish you were here to enjoy them”

And call you sweet pet names like “Dear” “Darling” “Honey” etc. and when he’s feeling especially corny “Snookums” or something really out there when he feels like you need a good laugh like “Cookie Cutter”

No, I'm serious, if he thinks you’re sad, he w i l l say “Hey there, how’s my little cookie cutter?” to himself in a half joking tone in hopes of brightening your day

You can pry this headcanon from my cold, dead hands

He loves it if you mutter responses to yourself for him to hear in return

His heart will melt the moment he hears you say “Good morning” back, or if you mention wanting to cook for him

He also loves it if you give lesson plan advice to him

Like, he’ll be muttering about the best way to teach his class how to throw shuriken and your voice will pop up in his head with friendly advice

Makes him wonder if you’re a teacher too, or if you’re planning to become one

Secretly hopes you’re planning to become a teaching aid, because A) Work and soulmate at the same time? Yes please, and B) Kami knows he needs help with his rowdy class

If you are, he’s sure to be over the moon when he finds out

In his younger days, before teaching, he definitely went on missions and looked for you when he could

Like, yes, the mission is important, but finding the owner to the beautiful voice in his head is ALSO important

He’d usually finish the mission and stay an extra one or two days looking for you

It didn’t really cross his mind till later that you could be in the Leaf Village, since he figured he would have already found you if he did

Till he saw people older than him who grew up in the village only just finding out they were soulmates

He went on less out of village missions after that

Till eventually he decided to become a teacher

When I tell you this man melts when you talk

I mean he MELTS

He loves your voice so much

It helped him through his parents deaths

Helped him when he felt at his lowest points

You’ve done so much for him, and he’s so thankful, he’s fallen so deeply in love with you and you haven’t properly met yet!

He still wants to marry you on the spot though

It’s not a strange sight to see him browsing rings

Or thinking of how he’d propose

You’ll never let him know that he’s unconsciously spoken out loud about it a few times

Not until you meet, then you’ll mention it

And never let him live it down

“You know, I’ve heard you say you wanted to marry me on the spot, is that still on the menu or…?”

Yeah, when you first meet each other, that’s the first thing that pops out of your mouth

And it has his face burning red

He’s stumbling through his words, trying to convey that yes, he would like to marry you, but he needs your ring size first to go buy the ring

Trust me, this man has made enough trips to know what ring, he just needs the size

Then he’ll be down on one knee quicker that Shisui’s Shunshin no Jutsu

The fact that you seem okay with it also seals the deal for him

He’s so ecstatic when you meet each other

He feels like he could take on Madara one v one and win

He’s so unbelievably happy

Like he’s convincing you to take a photo so he can frame it on his desk and always remember happy

He’s so cute and blushy about it too

Rambles about never wanting to forget the best day of his life so far

“So far?” “Well, yeah, I imagine marrying you will take the spot soon”

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS BOY WILL MAKE YOUR HEART SWOON!!!

He’s so giddy about introducing you to his class too

Especially Naruto

[Mostly Naruto]

He’s showing you off and preening at the congratulations his class gives

And later on introducing you to Naruto personally

As much as he loves his class, he adores Naruto, and really hopes you both get along well

And you do

And it was the worst mistake of Iruka's life

[or best as both you and Naruto often correct him]

Honestly you probably convinced him to at least bring up the possibility of Adoption to Naruto

Which has Naruto howling in excitement and agreeableness

The boy looks up to him and they both have such a father/son dynamic, let me have this dammit

[Also, being able to get Naruto to be the ring bearer/flower boy? P r i c e l e s s]

He loves his family, so very much

And is so thankful that you convinced him to adopt Naruto

The man has been debating on if Naruto would want to be his son or not for ages, you can NOT tell me otherwise

You also can’t tell me Naruto wouldn’t jump at the chance to have Iruka as his father

Erza Scarlet

She’s so eager to find you

She’s spent so long perfecting the art of speaking to you despite the barrier

And she’s always so responsive to you

Always talking about the adventures she's had

What she wants to do with you when you find each other

And she’s always so happy when you do the same

She’s always been responsive with you, even though the beginning was a bit rough with communication

So when she suddenly goes radio silent, it scares you, it hurts when you come to the realization that she’s dead

She can hear you, even in her deep sleep on Tenrou Island

And it’s heartbreaking

Your cries

The endless broken sobs

“I’m so sorry I never got to meet you” No, I’m still here!

“Hey soulmate wha- oh, right, you’re..” I’m not dead! I promise I’ll be there soon!

To say the least, it’s a long 7 years

And you never did get over your soulmates tragic death

Though you did find out who she might have been

Hurts more knowing how she passed on though

She always spoke of her guild, Fairy Tail, and you had been saving up enough jewels to go there, in hopes of finding her

You know she must have been on Tenrou when it fell

And by deductive evidence, it must have been the S class wizard

Erza Scarlet, you’re soulmate

Dead, soulmate

You joined not long after the news had spread

Figured it might help with the ache

It didn’t

But you grew to love the guild anyways

They welcomed you as family

Because to them, you already were

Erza spoke so highly of you

Always talking about how amazing her soulmate was, and everything she wanted to do with them when they met

And it was because of that you were able to deduce that she is your soulmate

Was, your soulmate

It wasn’t an odd sight to see you crying when the Tenrou group was brought up

Or after a particular rough beating from the Twilight Ogre guild

They watched you slowly fall apart when you tried speaking to her

Helped put you back together when you remembered she wasn’t on the other side

And eventually you began healing

Never getting over her or forgetting her

You could never forget her

And broke down just thinking about trying to find another

You took to talking to her in hopes she could still hear you in the afterlife

Talk about your day

How the guild is doing

If there was a particularly rough beating from the other guild

It hurt, much worse than when you forgot that she wasn’t there

But you carried on, believing that if she could hear you, she’d want to know

She adores that about you, your will to carry on, even though it hurts

And she’s sure to leave nothing but corpses in Twilight Ogre for all the years of torment

When Blue Pegasus found remains of the Island, no one stopped you from boarding the ship

They knew you needed this, more than the rest of them

You needed to know if she was really gone or not

And when you caught sight of scarlet red hair

You wept

She’s here

She’s alive

She turned the moment she heard your voice weekly call for her

To say your first meeting was filled with tears would be an understatement

You were attached by the hip from that point on

Not that either of you were complaining

Erza was especially ecstatic to have you by her side finally

After all, she had 7 years to make up for

And you can show her where Twilight Ogre is

The Master and Mira didn’t question why she was especially rough with a select few members

I Hope you enjoyed reading this set of Soulmate AU HC’s! If you would like to see any specific characters, don’t be afraid to leave a comment or submit an ask! If it’s a character I’m not familiar with, I’ll do my best to learn about them!!

P.S. I nearly killed Reader-chan off in Erza’s (:

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pandemilkbread · 3 years

Text

nine days // bakugo katsuki

author’s note: here is the sequel to paubaya! it can be read as a stand alone fic, but it’ll feel better once you read the first one.

please enjoy ♡ please leave a like or comment if you enjoyed it,, it’ll mean alot aaaaa. also, beware. this is pretty long!

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ

nine days. (angst!fic) part 1

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: It took eight, just eight days to fall in love with you; and as dense as Bakugo was, it’ll take him a lifetime (or two) to admit it.

The idea of love has always been a difficult subject to comprehend.

And to a young boy at the tender age of four, whose typical acts of love revolved on beating the crap out of anyone who dared to mess with him (or his friends, though he’d rather not call them that), the subject was more troublesome to speak out loud.

Which was quite contrary to the Bakugo household persona that radiated pure noise throughout the whole course of the day, a feat their neighbor would love to refute if they were able to.

(how a detached and sound proof home such as theirs could release that much clamor, they hardly knew.)

However as loud as the Bakugos were, it’s a no-brainer to realize how quiet they became in regard to their own feelings. The eccentric family breathed the words “show don’t tell” like a mantra; the essence of touch being the utmost way of showing affection—something Bakugo Katsuki never truly understood until one Saturday afternoon.

Bakugo loved his quirk. His favorite part? Not one single part, but a bunch load of favorites.

Blasting shit into smithereens.

Screams of wow! and cool! from his followers.

(”the imaginary people in his head, who continually shower him with praise.” not that he’d admit it.)

The sizzle of sweat on his fingers.

…And exactly everything else that buffed up his currently fragile ego.

The worst part?

The smell of burnt cloth that followed his usual fits of excitement.

The lukewarm water plummeting from the ceiling sprinklers.

…Most especially the whack that vibrated through his skull when his mother found out his only son almost managed to burn down the whole kitchen.

He took it personally, very personally. What happened? An accident! The All Might segment thrilled him to the point of attempting a somersault, one that he succeeded in doing! Was it his fault a measly floor couldn’t handle his greatness? Yet, how does his crappy mom reward him for this feat— a full throttle to the head.

“Katsuki,” his father muttered, rousing him from his thoughts. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, forcing him to scrunch his nose in disgust. Was he so weak to need a dab of a stupid medical solution to—

“You could have gotten hurt. Don’t be stubborn.” He sighed. “Your mom was very worried.”

Bakugo grunted. ‘A pissy way of showing it!’ He’d retaliate, but the downcast glint in his father’s eyes stopped him. He was clearly worried for his son’s wellbeing.

“...Could’ve said so.” He sputtered out. (unwillingly, of course.)

“Sometimes you have to look past words to truly understand how someone is feeling, Katsuki.” A small grin perched on Masaru’s face. “People love differently. You just need to spot how.”

ii.

“I like you! Can we please start seeing each other?”

“Hah? Who the fuck are you?”

One tear, two tears, three tears. With that, the girl ran, and down the middle school staircase she went.

Bakugo hardly understood why he was invited to the rooftop in the first place. No. He knew a confession would take place, that was obvious. All thanks to his fellow female classmates who couldn’t stop gossiping about it. One more ‘oh God! she’s going to confess to Bakugo-san later!’ and he’d burst, literally.

No. He couldn’t grasp the whole idea of confessing your love to a stranger. Bakugo knew nothing of the teary-eyed student, except she was a crybaby. Besides, it irritated him to the point of seething. Why confess your love only to run out halfway when things go sour?

It wasted his time. Time he could have spent training, studying, doing something important.

Don’t misunderstand. Bakugo was not a cruel person, he never was. Just one with below par conversational skills. He wanted to know the reasons, not disregard her feelings. He wanted to understand the why’s and what’s of the equation; the basis of what directed her feelings onto him.

But, he would never accept her proposition, even if she managed to spur out a million reasons. Bakugo never saw himself in a position to love someone, it was too troublesome. Hell, he never understood the whole idea of love itself.

He scoffed. If he had found himself fancying a person, it would be one akin to himself.

Someone strong.

Someone who spoke their mind.

Someone who could handle him.

Someone who—

Whack! A shoe smacked him out of his dazed stupor. Apparently, the friends of so-called stranger who shuffled off the rooftop in a crying heap told what transpired. The whole girl squad fashioned themselves into a line meant to reprimand his actions.

“You could have softened the blow, you know!” One of them hissed. “In a way that wouldn’t hurt her feelings!”

“Yeah. You’re pretty selfish, Bakugo-san. You could have at least tried to hang out before deciding!” Another chided.

The act ignited his anger, leaving him an irked mess.

Soften the blow? What did they expect him to do? Listen to the confession wholeheartedly, seemingly interested in actually dating the other party? Hell no. Why would he do so? It would only make the rejection hurt more. No matter how you put it a rejection is still a rejection; and a rejection will hurt.

Selfish? He had done the girl a huge favor. More or less she would finally move on and treat the event as a lesson; focus on someone who had the time for affection.

Was it his fault for not feeling the same way? Fuck no. He owed them nothing.

“Don’t wanna. Too much of a hassle.” Bakugo sneered.

And, oh boy were women scary. Nothing was more terrifying than a group of women who managed to suppress Hell’s fury and rage into their whole being. Hypocrites. Speaking of softening blows when one hit from any single one of them could break bones.

God. He hated their quirks.

(scratch that. he hated the sound of his mother’s cackling the most. ‘now what did i tell you about pissing off girls!’ she scolded.)

iii.

Bakugo was a lot of things: perceptive, intelligent, strong— Hell he could list down a thousand adjectives if he wanted to. But, he was never the observant one.

Sheer power? He was fucking amazing.

Keen leadership? Bakugo is your guy!

Socializing skills? …Working on it. But, God yeah!

As perceptive as he was, his ego took a bit of a hit the moment he crashed into her. And as much as he would like to boast it was her fault in the first place, with the stacks of books that perched on her forearms, he knew better than to daze off in the middle of a crowded hallway.��

The books shook in momentum, and in return one hand steadied the massive collection. The blonde Pikachu outwardly reached out preventing the crash, a feat Kaminari would evidently use as a bragging tool later on.

“Ah, sorry about that! Spiky over here’s in a daze after the math quiz,” Kaminari snickered.

“Says the cheater who got caught on question one.” Bakugo retorted with an eyeroll to match.

The other person in question huffed out a breathy laugh, the books shook once again in reaction, forcing her to side step to balance them out. “That’s fine. Sorry for blocking the way too.” The stranger reassured.

By then, Bakugo’s stomach growled. God was he hungry. He casually followed the flow of people toward the lunch area. A few steps later his blonde companion tapped him on the shoulder, almost frantically.

“I-I’mma help carry the books to—” Kaminari whipped his head back and forth at him and the other person walking the opposite direction. “So... yeah! Go without me!”

Bakugo grunted. A non-verbal consent which easily meant “go, I don’t care”, or more likely “bye. i’m fucking hungry”. He couldn’t understand why Kaminari would go that far for someone he barely knew, especially when their whole body was covered by the stacks of books. Suspicious if you asked him.

The boy was simply unpredictable and troublesome. Nah. He had no time to think about the electrical cord, he wanted to eat. Once he arrived at the dining hall, the other three constituents of his group sat on their usual hangout place. Thankfully (he won’t admit it) the eccentric red head ordered his regular lunch for him, allowing Bakugo to immediately slide into the table.

“Bahkuwgo! Whersh Kahmiyari?” Pinky blurted, her mouth filled with food.

His eyebrows furrowed. Where was Pikachu? “Shithead’s busy.”

Bakugo returned to the matter at hand, his aching stomach, and began chewing. Obviously, the angry porcupine had no time to gossip about the who, what, where, and when’s, hello? Stomach first. His ears on the other hand had no shut-off button, prompting him to listen in the conversation rather irately.

“I told him to study! Three nights ago! And what happens? He decides to write down the whole syllabus into his hands!”

Sero sighed. “Mina. He’s helpless and will never learn—”

“Didn’t you copy off him too?” Kirishima chortled. “I saw you look over his answers!”

The black haired boy feigned shock. “Are you assuming I cheated? I thought we were friends!” Seconds of thought later, his eyes widened in real shock. “If you saw me looking... it means you looked too!”

“Bro. I wouldn’t cheat. It’s against my honor—”

“Oh my God! All three of you are idiots.” Mina gushed.

“Says the girl who left the whole back page em-empty.” Sero snickered, his palm jabbing his chest to dislodge the food stuck in his throat.

Kirishima gasped. “There’s a back page? The—”

“Hey! How do you know? You’re seated at the third row! So you’ve really been chea—”

The thwack of a lunch tray interrupted the conversation, an achievement only possible by the fourth idiot of the group. The lightning bolt returned from the alleged errand in a sputtering mess; like he would be when overloaded by his quirk, almost but not quite.

“Denki! What took you so long? I bet Aizawa-sensei decided to talk some sense into you!” Mina teased, tilting her head in confusion when the blonde suddenly dazed off.

Bakugo smacked the Kaminari on the forehead, rather lightly. “...Idiot’s broken.”

“No... I met an angel...” The chargebolt mumbled.

“Here we go again.” Sero shook his head in response. “Who is it this time?”

“Shush! She’s here!” He hissed. “Bakugo bumped into her earlier. She had these big books—”

“Bro! That’s no way to talk to a girl—”

“No! Not that! Real books! So, they were heavy and... Yeah. I helped her carry them to Recovery Girl— and yeah!”

“You’re not making any sense.” Sero advised.

“Shut up! She might hear us!” Kaminari gawked. “...She’s so pretty...”

Four sets of eyes travelled towards the person the Pikachu was ogling at, a silent agreement among all five of them to be as unsuspecting as possible. Evidently, she was a simple normal high school girl whose smile seemed to radiate glee likely from her co-classmates who sat with her.

Bakugo surveyed her face, and then onto her gestures and actions. A Goddess? Huh. The girl seemed pretty normal to him, no one special. Kaminari unmistakably gushed over another woman, like he usually did for no reason at all.

“Where’s she from?” Bakugo asked, rather boredly.

“Ah, yeah! I don’t know.” The lover-boy continued ogling. “...She’s not from the Hero department for sure.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

iv.

Bakugo hated many things; failing tests (he’s too smart to fail), winning without actual merit, God he despises losing even more, Deku (he doesn’t actually, too prideful to oppose it though), nagging— He hates Aizawa’s nagging the most.

It must have something to do with the nonchalant tone, more like dead and spiritless if you asked him, the all knowing attitude, the deep timbre of ‘Bakugo. Fix that up. If I find out you’ve been bleeding all over the floor. Good luck.’, the threatening staring contest thereafter, and the resolution: him walking furiously to the nurses’ office.

He groaned. It was a tiny scratch. Maybe a bruise, or two. The gash on his temple stung, not just physically. The reason why he was cut in the first place was all because of shitty Pikachu blabbing about his fucking angel. If he said “You’re just jeaaaalous” one more time, he would explode.

Bakugo warned him. Multiple times. Kirishima could vouch it. But, no. Bolty decided to repeat the phrase manifold of times, leading him to screech a “shut the fuck up!”, causing Pinky to scream, in succession scared Shitty Hair forcing him to activate his quirk—

Fuck that. In short, it was all thanks to the living and breathing phone charger.

Bakugo gripped the clinic door and slammed it open. The quicker he found Recovery Girl the quicker he returned to class and beat the shit out of Pikachu. Yeah. He’d do that, but instead he found her.

For fucks sake. The indirect reason why he was in this state.

He marched toward the desk, dragging his feet in a somewhat stomping manner. The way she blankly stared irritated him more. Was she just going to stare? Bakugo rolled his eyes. Did she think he was pathetic to come in for a slight scratch?

He had no choice. Not his fucking choice.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

Finally. The girl roused from her state of daze and stood up. Now all he needed to do was ask— nah, he’d wait for the head nurse himself.

The other person in the room darted her eyes to him and a clock on the wall almost quizzically, as if she was contemplating what to do. With that, she spun around and faced him.

“She’s not here. Bear with it for a sec, let me get something to help.” She mumbled.

Oh? The girl wasn’t a bystander after all. She reached for a small kit inside a cabinet in the wall. Her hands then beckoned to a chair and it was his cue to sit down.

This gave him ample time to observe the woman who’s been driving him nuts. Through the oddball Kaminari of course.

First of all, she was no goddess. Looked more like an enraged chipmunk on Christmas morning. Her cheeks puffed up in concentration, dabbing antiseptic on his temple. How Kaminari fell for her, he had no idea. Not surprising though, he’d fall for the whole female populace if he had the time for it.

Second, why the fuck would he be jealous! What was there to be jealous about? Pikachu should be the envious one. The girl he fawned for happened to be the same woman in charge of cleaning his wounds. No. Not wounds. Scratches. Stupid scratches. Her eyes glazed in utter focus at the task of hand, this beat Kaminari’s “watching habits” any day.

Hell, he was a tad excited. Using this incident as a tool to finally make the idiot shut up. The imminent power he’d have over the crappy blonde. He would bring it up on every occasion possible, well— not every one. Bakugo did have mercy for the goofball. So, maybe five times a week. Almost enough to make up for all the weeks of his bantering.

Third, he thought, wouldn’t it be better if he introduced you to Kaminari instead? Yeah, he barely knew you. Even so, it was worth a shot. Maybe referring you to the Pikachu would be better in the long run. Maybe, the experience could humble him. Bakugo shook his head. No. Even if he managed to coerce you into meeting Bolty, there was no guarantee you’d actually like him.

Then there was the impending heartbreak and sobbing and whining and complaining. Nevermind. He’d go through so much shit for a tiny bit of satisfaction. Scratch that.

Anyway, what was so great about you? You weren’t from the hero course. Obviously. Bakugo knew most of the students from that department. Although he couldn’t remember names, faces seemed to pop up in his mind. You didn’t have an awesome quirk. Hell, if you did, he recalled no one who looked like you from the sports festival. Business department? He assumed people like them don’t intern for the clinic. General department then?

Bakugo growled. Why was he trying to understand you? You were nothing to him. A simple stranger who crossed paths with first time, and highly for the last time once the whole ordeal was over. God. He’ll kill Kaminari for this.

At that instant, Bakugo felt repetitive pressure on head. It took him a few seconds to realize she patted him. Like a kid!? Fuck no. His ego couldn’t take her treating him as a child. A small vein popped on his forehead and when he was about to berate her for her actions, apparently she spoke first.

“Good boy, you can leave now.” With. A. Matching. Grin.

Fuck no. This was worse. You didn’t treat him as a child, he was a pet to you! A pet? Why a pet!? He wanted to wipe that dumb smile off your face. You were exactly more annoying than Pikachu ever was!

Her cheeks flooded pink from the small laugh she released. Bakugo’s eyes hovered over to yours and one though popped up: cute.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Imaginary steam evaporated from the top of his head. Cute? Cute! Gross. The woman in front of him wasn’t cute. She was fucking annoying. He bet his mind spelled u.g.l.y wrong. The scratch on his head fucked up his intellect.

Bakugo immediately stood up, pointing an accusing finger at her. “What’dya call me, ugly!?”

Anyone who thought Bakugo was the type of person to run away from a fight would be met with the indignant monster himself, threatening the offender with fury akin to the devil.

It’ll take a million years before Bakugo willingly scampered off the battlefield without dealing a punch (or two).

However it would take longer for him to admit he was running away from you. No. He wasn’t ‘running’ per se, he was observing the situation. The whole clinic event left him irked and in a sense, intrigued.

Now that he thought about it, anyone who met his “angry” side were prone to either a. running; b. crying; c. anger; and d. all of the above; and in rare cases: e. laughing. He assumed anyone who laughed at him after his usual feats of anger were the real creepy ones— or idiots reincarnate.

The moment he knew of her existence, he found himself noticing her more and more. He remembered specs of her daily routine from mere perception, something he hated he did, yet couldn’t stop.

She hated tomatoes, he gathered from a passing conversation on the way to the lunch room.

She hated snakes even more. Something to do with a childhood fear that forced her to go to the hospital.

She loved reading, he presumed with all the books she had on the top of the desk in the library.

As much as it irritated him to realize she took up a part of his thoughts (a big part, really), it pisses him off further when she spotted him looking at her as well. That led her to offer him a smile, sometimes a nose scrunch, other days furrowed eyebrows in confusion, but most of the time you never noticed the blonde hero student glancing at your direction.

Well, that’s fine with him. More time to speculate the shitty woman who managed to take up his time.

She took the courage to approach him one day. Bakugo knew she headed to his table in the library. So what does he do the moment her eyes met his in an attempt to introduce herself? Run. He fucking runs.

An accomplishment that only happened when the world split into two.

Yet, here were are on Day Four: Bakugo Ignores Gen. Girl to Restore His Self-Esteem. Part one of the “he was caught looking multiple times and almost confronted” franchise. This happened for quite a while, pretty easy actually. Both of your schedules never met, the only times he caught a whip of your existence were in the library (your humble abode) and the clinic (your humble abode part two).

Obviously, he avoided both places like the plague.

His plan worked for a while.

(for the first five days, honestly.)

Bakugo’s broke his streak one lunch afternoon. He caught her eye the exact moment she looked at his, inciting a silent battle of leering. She grinned set out to stir his anger and he glared right back. The fight lasted for minutes neither parties admitting defeat, earning the attention of his fellow lunchmates.

“Bakugo? Could you teach me this later?” Mina pleaded. “If I fail one more quiz I’d be dumber than Denki!”

“Hey! I studied this time. I bet I might get a higher score than Midoriya this time!” Kaminari disagreed, flicking the girl’s forehead.

“Finish eating already. We might be late again...” Sero sighed. “God. Aizawa-sensei gives me the chills...”

The red head of the group noticed Bakugo’s full tray and focused glare first. Kirishima lightly tapped the blonde, earning a grunt in response. Kirishima’s eyes then followed his line of sight to see the girl Kaminari has been talking about nonstop, and stop he did weeks ago.

“Ah. You know her, Bakugo?” Kirishima whispered. “You might... with that staring contest going on between you.”

“No. I don’t.” Bakugo scowled, in concentration.

Sero, who was in close proximity, heard the short discussion and pulled the other blonde by the ear. “Yo, Denki. Isn’t that Goddess #18?”

“Ah!” Denki immediately covered his ears. “Stop! Can’t handle it! Don’t even mention her anymore— Bakugo ruined the whole experience! Remember Goddess #20? Yes. I’mma stick with her.”

“Woah... Bakugo that’s one intense stare you have. Don’t tell me... you’re dating her!” Mina gushed. “Denki you never stood a chance!” She laughed.

“Who would like that— ugly!” Bakugo chided.

“No wonder you hated it. You were reaaaally jealous, huh?” The Pikachu sang. “It’s fine with me. You have my permission.”

Bakugo fumed. “I don’t need your permission to do anything!”

Kirishima blinked. “Oh, you were serious, bro? You do like her?”

“You’re all fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!”

Sero grinned, a wide cheshire smile. “You know what this means? Time to meet the princess who stunned the angry dragon.” He stood up.

Mina understood the signal and followed suit. “Watch Bakugo for us, Kiri! We’re going to— Denki. You’re coming too.” She pulled the latter by the arm, dragging him unwillingly.

“I don’t wanna!” Kaminari cried.

“Hurry up. She could have pretty friends—”

“Ah? Let’s go.” The blonde picked up his weight and dashed.

The remaining two students sat in silence. Bakugo groaned in frustration. He’s going to kill all four of them. Maybe a slower death for Spiky Hair since he called their attention in the first place. Bakugo smacked his head on the table.

For fucks sake. Out of all the times they had to notice, why now? God. He hated his friends.

Kirishima patted his back, gently. He did not want to enrage the irritated Bakugo even further. “There’s no harm in meeting someone new, right? Think of it as a — fun experience.”

Fun, alright. Bakugo was going to have fun beating his friends up.

(says the angry pomeranian who heeded, and plomped down on the seat next to the stranger— not so unfamiliar anymore, almost happily. well, in his own way.)

vi.

You and Bakugo were polar opposites; the duo that clashed every second possible.

Believe it or not, the slightest of jabs ignited an argument so intense that calling the fire department would be justifiable.

(alright. this may sound over dramatic. but, hey. it came from kaminari himself. dramatics beget drama.)

One argument in particular stood out among the rest. It started little, truly. A small squabble, really.

Bakugo preferred sweets, she hated them.

He liked mathematics, she detested the subject.

He thrived with attention, she favored staying in the sidelines.

He loved the winter, she wished for summer.

And one phrase led to another, one plain phrase led to an even more painful prick, and in conclusion—

“You’re quirkless. Stop complaining.”

happened.

Bakugo never meant for the remark to hurt your feelings. It was a smooth attempt to disguise his embarrassment; you begged to hold his hand. Utterances of ‘we’re friends!’ and ‘don’t be shy!’ irked him. How the fuck was it possible to stay calm when the simplest brush of your hand against his, sent him into a frenzy?

Safety. He rebutted. It was for your safety. As much as he’d like to hold your hand with his—

(he’d die before admitting it, though.)

that quirk of his, stopped him. Sweat triggered his quirk. The very instance of the substance forming in his hands could cause an explosion. He doubted you’d be thankful spending Christmas in a hospital, your parents resorting to call a lawsuit.

Was warmth a suitable reason to lose an arm? Hell no. Bakugo knew you hated winter, and all sorts of cold weather. Yet, he’s not stupid enough to risk your safety for something so... immaterial.

Her words of ‘you’re selfish, Bakugo!’ prickled his skin. It was an innocent jab, he knew it was a joke. Still, if you haven’t understood the way his quirk worked. He thought it would be better for you to learn the hard way.

And bingo. Bakugo said it.

“You’re quirkless. Stop complaining.”

Little did he know those words impacted his companion harsher than he initially thought.

A small forced laugh came from your lips, compelling you to step sideward. An attempt to move yourself farther from him. “We should hurry up. I don’t think they’d like cold pizza.”

Bakugo nodded, unconsciously watching your every move. He understood the topic of your quirklessness was taboo. A sort of innermost disappointment, and the focus of childhood bullying. He should have phrased it in a better way... a small part of him thought maybe, you wouldn’t get hurt, a way to attest your friendship.

He grunted. His mom would kill him if she found out it was his fault. And knowing the woman’s personality, he preferred not being chewed out in front of his schoolmates. With a sigh, Bakugo unshuffled his muffler and wrapped it around his female buddy.

“Next time, wear something thicker. I won’t always be here to save your ass.”

Her eyes blinked in succession. Her eyebrows furrowed after. Roughly, comprehending his actions.

She beamed. “Oh? Is little Bakugo apologizing?” Her fingers twisted the pizza box, forcing it onto his hands. “Then carry this ‘oh holy’ one. I might forgive you then.”

“Fine. Crappy woman.” Bakugo grumbled, tugging her forward by pulling his muffler. “Hurry. I’m hungry.”

By 5:30 P.M., the pizza deliverers (Bakugo and her, the idiots who lost at rock, paper, scissors) arrived at the Bakugo household with the food. The appearance of the two prompted cheers and yells from Mina, Kaminari, and Sero who huddled on the couch.

“What took you so long? Imagine listening to Denki sing the karaoke for hours!” Mina whined.

Sero jested. “Next time, we forget inviting him. This early Christmas celebration can carry itself without his presence.”

“Get the fucking pizza yourself then! Stupid crowds hogging the whole pizza place...” Bakugo threw the box at the group, instantaneously, marching towards Kirishima.

“Bakugo! B-Becareful!” Kaminari worried. “If it’s destroyed... you... get a new one!”

Heh. Like the expensive meal couldn’t handle a bit of force. Bakugo stomped towards the redhead and took a soda from the table nearest to him.

Kirishima rose his eyebrows. “So. Had fun?” He elicited an all-knowing grin. “I think you did.”

“Shut up!” Bakugo hissed, eyes wandering to the bundle of people on the couch.

“You know, you’re too obvious.” He laughed. “Well, except for one of us. That one has no idea.”

“I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? Or you’re pretending not to?”

“Ugly’s a friend!”

Kirishima hummed. “Alright, bro. I won��t pressure you into talking about it.”

A loud pop interrupted their conversation. Kaminari opened a fizzed up can of cola, the drink sprouted into Mina’s face. “I’m going to kill—”

“But, If you want something to happen though. You have to learn to speak up, Bakugo.”

vii.

“Come on, Bakugo! Just this once, please!” Mina begged. “It’ll be great for everyone! Don’t you feel sorry for Denki... He’s been cramming for days!”

“That’s what the gets for playing the whole weekend.”

“Please! I promise we’ll make it up to you!”

“No. Too much of a hassle.”

“C’mon... Princess, help?” The pink haired student gestured to the other girl in the group.

You sighed. “Mina, he doesn’t want to do it.”

“See, ugly agrees!”

“...Oh, wait. On the other hand, Bakugo’s too busy to teach. Mina, try asking Midoriya to help.” Her eyes met his in a stare off. “He’s got the time, especially when he’s so busy himself.”

She knew using his rival’s name as a bargaining chip kindled his anger. It was his fault for calling her such an offensive nickname in the first place.

“Might let Pikachu teach you math too. You’re dumber at it than he is.”

“Oh? I should let him. He’s better at teaching than you are!”

Mina glanced back and forth between the two parties. A silent ‘oh boy, this will not end well.’ featured on her face. Pinky shook her head, and placed a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder.

“It’s fine! Stop arguing, really.” Mina murmured.

“No. She started it.”

“Don’t be a child, Bakugo! …Oh, you scared?” Ugly taunted. “I might beat your score in math.”

“Hah? You, the flunk? Fine. I’ll teach the shitty subject.” Bakugo grinned. “Any score lower than mine means you owe me one.”

And she gulped, anxiously.

This became the humble beginnings of how Bakugo became the professor of the study group, ultimately leading to her doom. He was excited. Oh, what shit he’d make her do in retaliation.

He agreed on the following terms: library after classes, subjects will be appointed beforehand, anyone skipping must be told in advance... and fifty other rules so on and so forth.

And on the third week of the so-called cramming agenda, four of his classmates decided not to attend, leaving him and ugly as the remaining participants. The whole point of the activity was to teach the idiots, if they don’t show up why was he here?

Bakugo scanned through the math test he gave his companion. First, she was no idiot. There were hardly any errors, if there was, he presumed it was her faulty writing and adding. Solutions were well done, the logic was there. The problem? Yes. The idiot forgot her calculator.

He clicked his tongue. The assumption was apparent, the whole back page had scribbles of numbers, divides, and all the shit. Why the hell did she not have a calculator? Forgetful one she was.

And second, why the fuck was she dozing off? Sure, mathematics was a boring subject. Sure, he was a boring teacher. Sure, he was teaching them to pass the subject. They should all be grateful for his fucking effort.

The hues of the sunset danced on her skin, the reds and oranges bounced on her hair radiating a wave of light. Her head perched on her crossed arms on the table, the head leaning slightly right. He saw the dark pigments below her eyes.

Must have been studying hard, huh? Bakugo knew the girl was on a scholarship. It’s been discussed millions of times. He realized the pressure must have gotten to her, especially being one of the only quirkless students in the school. Seemingly, all she had to offer was her bright intellect.

(not all. she was way better than most of the students in the whole department! bakugo punched anyone who thought otherwise.)

“...Do you like someone?” She muttered.

What? In a split second, he focused his eyes on the girl in front of him. She stayed in the same sleepy position as earlier, convincing him she might have been talking in her sleep. Shaking his head, he returned back to the papers in his hands.

Minutes later a sudden tap on the table prompted him to look at his companion. Her eyes gazed at him with such intensity, his stomach jumped. Somersaults, loops, rollercoasters. God. This only happened after a punch to the gut in battle. The woman was supposed to be asleep! What the fuck was she doing awake.

Oh. So, she did ask the question. Was he supposed to answer? Silence is an answer. Knowing the girl, any answer he’d give sired more questions. God. He wanted to leave. What was the shittiest answer he could give her. Yeah.

“...Shut up, extra.”

Perfect. Now back to the question at hand. What kind of fucked up person willingly confesses ‘You. Stupid. I like you.’ without proof the other party felt the same? It was simply a formula to fail.

Hold.

The.

Fuck.

Up.

Did he really think he liked her? No. Brain thought wrong. Brain really thought fucking wrong. Just because he hated it when she focused on people who weren’t him doesn’t mean he likes her. Just because he’d break someone’s face for talking shit about her doesn’t mean he cares like that. Just because every retort she said in retribution turned him on doesn’t mean he wanted to kiss her.

Fuck. He wanted to kiss her.

Kiss her badly.

He wanted to grab her by the collar and just kiss her.

God. He hated it.

The girl abruptly reached for his collar, pulling him towards her. “Who is it?” She whispered.

Oh fuck. The cogs in his brain twisted and turned. Did he say it out loud? Did he fucking say that out loud? What the fuck was he doing? Who is it? What the fuck were you talking about?

Who is it? Who was who? He hated cryptic messages. His eyes searched for meaning on your features. A person? Who?

Ah. You asked who he liked.

Great. What was he supposed to say? It’s you, ugly! Wake up! He’d burn in hell before speaking up.

One name popped up. Miruko’s agency. Rumi. The woman he was interning for. Like crap she’d find out about it.

“Rumi, her name’s Rumi.”

viii.

12:00 P.M.

bakugo: i’m hungry

bakugo: bring ur snacks

12:50 P.M.

bakugo: u not gonna eat huh?

bakugo: suit urself brat

3:00 P.M.

bakugo: think u gonna win the bet now aren’t ya

bakugo: keep ignoring me maggot

bakugo: fine

5:00 P.M.

bakugo: spiky hair said to come

bakugo: he has shitty fish crackers for food

bakugo: the fuck??????

bakugo: you ignore me and answer his calls?????

Bakugo was not an avid texter. Most of his messages consisted of ‘ok’, ‘nice’, ‘no’, curses, other single word messages, sometimes barely a reply at all. The sheer amount of effort he put into texting you proved otherwise. Yet...

Read. Read. Read.

All of his messages sent to you were on read. What he fuck was going on? For five days, she’s been missing in action. He tried everything.

Inviting the woman to lunch. Ignored.

Reminding her of the cram session. Bailed.

Snacks! You loved snacks! Ignored again.

Bakugo was this close to shoving you up against the wall and forcing the shit out of you. What did he do so wrong? Oh, was it the kiss thing? Did he say it out loud? Your face showed no clear answer at the time. Your deadpan expression irritated him.

What if he wanted to kiss you? Was that shit so bad?

That had to be it.

You weren’t ignoring Spiky hair, Pikachu, Duct Tape, and Pinky— then it had something to do with him.

He grunted. Swiping the contacts on his phone, he hovered over the one named ‘Ugly’ and tapped it. Bakugo disabled the block function.

If you weren’t talking to him, fine, he won’t fucking talk to you.

(yes. he was that petty.)

Streams of notifications buzzed. All of them coming from you.

Ugly: 6 P.M.

Ugly: Outside 3-A.

Ugly: Don’t be late.

Ugly: stupid.

Fucking finally. The woman finally decided to text back.

A meeting place? For what?

The exams were over. A celebration party then. No. Why was the location at 3A then? Oh. The bet. She wanted to compare answers for the shitty bet.

Bakugo flicked his phone on. 6:25 P.M.

Amazing. He was fucking late.

The distance from the faculty room and the third year homerooms were near. It took him no time at all to stomp all the way to the designated meeting spot. Why you couldn’t have texted the shit down, he hadn’t understood.

Bakugo sported a look of annoyance the moment he found you. Shitty woman.

“You finally decide to text me back, shithead.” He cursed.

The girl fashioned an amused expression. “Hm. You missed me?”

Of, course he did. How crappy of you to fill his thoughts of only you, annoy him ‘til worlds end, only for him to be forgotten and ignored. Like a thrown away puppy on the sidewalk.

“Who would miss you, ugly.” He fumed.

Yeah. That’s what you get for pretending he didn’t exist. You can’t leave him begging for your attention, that was something shitty fan girls did. And she stood there feigning ignorance of the whole ordeal. He bet she never even noticed he blocked her.

She erupted in giggles, clutching her stomach as the stronghold. “I’m sorry. The exams were really difficult.”

You bet they were terrible. They had the same general education syllabus, except for major hero subjects and courses. The outright tears Pikachu shed after the math exam proved its difficulty. Bakugo bet she cried after the exam as well.

Might figure out the task he would make her do. Something embarrassing? No. He wasn’t that cruel. A weird prank? What prank though—

“I missed you too, Katsuki.” She consoled.

Of, course you did. Who wouldn’t miss him? The dweeb better be thankful he blessed the his friendship onto her.

(though, he’d like a little bit more than that.)

Hah! Bakugo could force her to buy him a new muffler. The one he had disappeared (into her closet) and wanted a new one.

Katsuki.

Katsuki. Katsuki.

Fuck. She called him by his first name. And he only noticed it— now? Gears and cogs twirled within his consciousness. What did it mean? What did that mean? God. He hated it. Was that your way of showing your love? Did that love mean affection as relationship or love as friendship?

Fuck. He couldn’t tell.

Yet, he knew one thing.

He wanted to kiss you so bad.

The snickers and giggles from the people outside the room stopped him though. His shithead friends managed to ruin it, yet again.

Heh. Maybe next time.

Love has always been a difficult subject to comprehend, and for Bakugo whose typical acts of love revolved around teasing, and riling you up, the subject was more troublesome to speak out loud.

However, you were worth the trouble.

Now, you just needed to spot how.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #boku no hero bakugou #bnha bakugo #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero scenarios

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Okay I’m currently moving and going through old trinkets and stuff to see what to get rid of and I just now really would love a Ben Hargreeves x reader fic super fluffy going through old things of yours or his and just generally being super cute 😭 ily!

A/N: So this is a Ben didn’t die AU because that was the only way I could think of for “cute” not “sad.” Also, as someone who just moved herself, good luck on your move darling, may it be as smooth and frustration free as possible. I hope you enjoy it! :) Word Count: 1702 Content Warnings: Major cheese-factor? But other than that nothing

“I’m glad we decided to get a place together,” you said, leaning against Ben’s shoulder, looking around your empty apartment.

Yours, the two of you. When you had started discussing moving in with one another, maybe a year into your relationship, you considered just adding him onto your lease, which still had several months left on it (he did not consider asking you to move in with him, because he’d been living with Vanya, and Klaus when he showed up and couldn’t wait to get out). But eventually, you two had settled on starting fresh, somewhere you had picked out together, a place for both of you to build your lives together. It had been a challenge at first, but in the end, you knew it would be worth the effort to create a home together instead of merely adopting one of you into the other’s preexistent reality.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple and smiling. “And I’ll be even more glad once we get some stuff in here.”

“Y/N, what about these?” Ben called to you, pulling out a battered black shoebox from the back of your closet. “You didn’t put this pair with the rest of your shoes?”

Confused what he was talking about, you set aside the plates you had been wrapping in newspaper and made your way to the bedroom.

“What are you talking ab—oh…” your eyes fell on the box in question and you felt a hot blush creep across your face and down your neck. “That’s um…”

Ben’s confusion at your discomfort only grew when the box rattled slightly, producing sounds of rustling paper rather than shoes.

“You can just ignore that. It’s just some old…I don’t even know why I kept…” you sighed in defeat as his curiosity got the better of him and he opened the box.

The box, which had laid buried in your closet for long that you’d nearly forgotten about it, was full of old newspaper and magazine clippings about the Umbrella Academy in their hay-day.

“I, uh, I can explain that?”

Ben laughed, grin wide and surprisingly nonjudgmental as he picked up the faded pages in gentle fingers, particularly when he came across one of a teen magazine quiz which said your soulmate was Diego and you had drawn frowning faces around it and marked it ‘WRONG’ in blue sharpie.

“Aw, babe, I had no idea you were such a fan,” he teased. “My brother will be so sad I stole his soulmate.”

“Yeah, I mean I guess I was into the whole Umbrella Academy thing as a kid…lots of people were…” you shrugged, hoping that your nonchalance would keep him from pressing further. “It’s nothing to make a big deal of.”

“Aw, hey, Y/N, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said, setting the box aside to come over and rest his hands on your shoulders. “I think it’s cute.”

You shoved his chest lightly, hearing the laughter in his voice. “Shut up.”

All of your things finally packed, you and Ben made your way to the apartment he shared with his siblings, which they had cleared out of for the day so you could have more space to work.

“Hey Ben,” you said, gesturing to an old-fashioned hatbox on one of his shelves. “I didn’t know you were a hat guy?”

You wished you could reach the box yourself so you could take him down and tease him properly for the contents the way he had had for your shoebox. Instead, you had to wait for him to come and be tall for you.

“Oh that. I took the box from the Academy. Although I think the hat was as likely to have been Pogo’s as it was Dad’s,” he explained.

“So if it’s not a hat, what’s in there?” you asked, practically vibrating with curiosity.

The box tucked under one arm, he pulled you closer with the other into a hug and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, before moving to sit in on the corner of his bed (piled high with the books which had been hiding this mystery box and which you were supposed to be packing at the moment), motioning for you to join him. Eagerly, you bounced across the small room to flop next to him on the floor, making him laugh as you nearly collapsed into his lap and he had to quickly lift the box above his head to keep you from crushing it.

“Well, it’s not quite the same as yours, but it turns out we were both hanging onto some things,” he explained almost shyly, carefully wiggling off the snug lid of the box.

“Oh really?” you couldn’t help the smirk that crept across your face.

The first thing he pulled out was a photobooth filmstrip. In the four little boxes were your smiling faces, your silly faces, and one where you had leaned over and kissed him, his eyes wide with shock, all in sepia, perfect moments frozen in time.

“That was our first date,” you said with surprise. “Our first official one anyway, unless you count you refusing to let go of my hand until you had escorted me safely out of the building when those lunatics decided a coffee shop was the best place to hold up for quick cash.”

“Well I couldn’t let them catch wind of priceless treasure that slipped through their fingers, and my siblings had everything under control.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, leaning your chin on his knee to see what else was in the box. It was full to the brim, practically overflowing with little bits of memorabilia from your time together: a newspaper clipping about the day you met, ticket stubs for concerts and movies, pictures you had taken together or of each other with his polaroid camera, love letters you’d sent each other and notes you’d left when one of you had to leave before the other woke or had something important coming up that you might need a little extra encouragement for. It was like your whole lives together so far were in that hat box and you felt your eyes welling up at the thought. It was so much better than your embarrassing childhood crush.

“You know, I thought you had only agreed to go to that carnival with me because you felt like you owed me for saving you or something,” he added softly as he leafed through.

You rolled your head to one side, cheek against his leg, so you could look up at him, sensing the insecurity in his voice.

“Ben, baby…” you sighed.

Even now, after all of this time, he still seemed to think that part of you was only there out of pity, seemed to expect you to flinch away in horror at his abilities. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the way he and his siblings were raised and exploited by Reginald Hargreeves, but still your heart ached every time you sensed him withdrawing into those dark places.

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to say it,” he said, guessing at how your sentence was going to finish based on your repeated past conversations about it.

“I don’t think you do,” you lifted your head up, sitting back to better look him in the eye. “I was stunned that you even noticed me let alone asked me out, because you are incredible. And I don’t just mean the superhero thing, although that is pretty sweet,” you face scrunched up and you grinned at him before sobering. “If I was only in it for pity or for fame or because I owed you, I would have bailed a long time ago, not be getting an apartment with you. You’re stuck with me. Because I love you Ben Hargreeves.”

He set the box in his hands aside, pulling you close so that he could kiss you, tender and sweet and so rawly, desperately full of love that it threatened to overwhelm you. You folded your arms over his shoulders drawing him in even more. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, gently carding your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“We should really get back to packing,” you said after sitting like that for a moment, more than a little regretful that you had to break the moment and return you both to reality.

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you from the box,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a generic looking crumpled piece of lined paper.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching for it.

Nervously, he handed it to you and you began to read. Almost immediately, your hand came up to cover your mouth as tears welled up in them. This wasn’t a letter, so much as the draft of a speech with words and lines and entire paragraphs crossed out, some scribbled over completely and others with a single mark through them and new words squeezed into the cramped space above them. Finally, at the bottom, circled in blue ink: Y/N, you’re incredible. Will you go out with me?

“Oh Ben,” you murmured, clutching the paper carefully to your chest, trying your hardest not to cry.

“I was so nervous to ask you out,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And Diego kept giving me shit about how you were way out of my league, which definitely didn’t help. But for some reason you said yes, and I thought I might die, I was so happy.”

“So I was thinking…” you said one night, wrapping your arms around Ben as he stood in the doorway of your new living room.

“Uh-oh,” he laughed, mirroring your hold.

“We have that big open wall-space over the sofa, right?”

He nodded, looking at you, eyebrows knit together in curiosity and confusion.

“We also have two boxes of stuff that would make a really nice collage…we could maybe put them there? Sort of a wall of memories?”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to you fully. “I love it.”

#listen with me you get angst or you get sap #I hope this meets what you were looking for #Not-dead Ben is hard to write for...#Ben Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

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hecticcheer · 3 years

Text

Hyponatremia (unfinished T/M/A fic)

Fiveish months ago I tried to write a fic based on this scenario post I made. I’m super definitely never gonna finish it, and, it just kinda trails off at the end? Also it’s very rough. Features some American measurements in brackets that I’m too lazy to convert, if that gives you an idea. But I figured I’d post it anyway on one-slice-of-cake>no-cake principle.

As for the plot... uh. Jon has a headache; Martin tries to help, but makes it worse. For *checks notes* ~4200 words. If it has one saving grace, it’s that you can mmmmostly understand it without prior knowledge of T/M/A? Long as you know Martin’s living in the Archives to hide from an evil worm monster, you should be good.

As usual, Jon was the first person to join Martin down in the Archives that morning, sometime between seven and eight. And, no more unusually, Martin had twelve-plus hours of nervous energy to work off, and nobody to shed it on but his boss. “Morning. Sleep well? Tim said you still had some work to do when we left for the pub, but I didn’t see you when I got back so you can’t have made too late a night of it.” (Jon shook his head.) “Shame you couldn’t join us, by the way. Elena and Clarisse and them destroyed us on geography, and Sasha says you’re pretty good on maps and that. Maybe you could’ve saved us.”

“Doubt it,” said Jon. Martin waited for him to add more to that thought, but instead he just sort of stood there. Pinched one nostril shut and inhaled experimentally through the other. Trying to figure out which one was clogged, maybe? Tim said Jon’d said he had a headache; maybe it was a sinus thing. Not that this was exactly reliable intel. On pub-quiz Wednesday Tim always regaled him and Sasha with Jon’s latest excuses not to join them. They were always bad, but some were so bad Martin suspected they weren’t so much Jon’s lies as Tim’s lies about Jon’s lies. Probably not a great idea to mention this one, then. He’d stick to the first excuse Jon had allegedly given:

“Did you finish what you were working on?”

Jon closed his eyes, for a bit longer than the average blink, but not long enough to count as a proper wince. “Not even close.”

“Oh. What… was it?”

“Cabinet of statements from 2003. Or at least, nominally from 2003, though by my count less than a third of them actually date from that year.”

“Yikes. Need any help? Extra pair of hands, or.”

“Not right now.”

“2003,” Martin mused—“are you still looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement?”

A short, but hearty sigh. Enunciated, practically. He didn’t open his mouth until afterward, but Martin could see his nostrils flare around it. “No. Three days ago, when I started to look through the cabinets marked 2003, I was looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement. Now I just want to find out which statements in there I can’t send straight to the discredited section.”

Jon stood in the open doorway to his office by this point, hand on the knob as if to remind Martin of his eagerness to close it behind him. Even so Martin tried to peer past him into the office, looking for a discard pile of statements he might offer to shuttle away himself. This was pretty hard to do surreptitiously, though. He’d hoped his eyes would land at once on the tallest pile, at which time he could point to it and say, Are those the discredited ones, then? But from his vantage point all the piles on Jon’s desk seemed taller than usual.

“Right,” Martin said instead; “good luck.” He smiled weakly and returned his gaze to Jon, meaning to restore eye contact before he remembered how seldom Jon looked at people’s faces anyway. At this moment both his eyes were covered by the hand not on the doorknob. It would’ve been weird, he figured, to just duck out now while Jon couldn’t even see him, so Martin told himself to wait until he opened his eyes and only then back off.

But then Jon just stayed like that, for ages, with his fingers on one temple and his thumb on the other, blocking all possibility of sight. Eventually Martin felt like he had no choice but to say, “Are you alright?—or, I mean, how’s your head, by the way? Tim said….”

“It’s fine.”

“Ssssso it—doesn’t still hurt, then?”

“I’m fine, Martin. Thank you,” Jon said, but in one of the least thankful-sounding tones of voice he had. And then he closed the door, without even waiting for Martin to back up.

—

“Thought you might like coffee this morning instead of tea. It’s got more caffeine, and, that’s supposed to help, right? Plus I remembered what you said on your birthday about tea having tannins just like wine does. Of course, for all I know coffee might too—”

“It does.”

“Oh. Well… maybe the caffeine’ll cancel it out and you’ll break even? Or, I don’t know, maybe if you already have a headache they can’t trigger one.”

Jon’s answering Hm sounded pessimistic. Sure enough, as soon as Martin had finished his sentence he said, “I’m not that lucky.”

“Probably not,” Martin agreed with a laugh. “Still, least it’s hydration. Though caffeine’s a diuretic, so if I recall correctly you only get about half, volume-wise. That mug’s about… [twelve ounces,] I’d say? So it probably counts as about [six toward your sixty-four].”

“Yes, yes,” replied Jon, picking up his bottle of water and shaking it. When he set it down again, one look confirmed what Martin had suspected from the sound it made—it was nearly empty.

“Oh hey, look at that! Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job even without…” he trailed off, realizing too late that the most logical end to that sentence was my help, and that that was a pretty pompous way to refer to a coffee he was pretty sure Jon didn’t even want. So instead he said, “I’ll go refill that for you.” And before Jon could look up Martin scurried off to the break room with it.

The water dispenser should’ve been changed yesterday. When the water got this low it took ages to fill even a mug, much less a tall bottle like this one. It startled as a trickle, and by about halfway up the bottle slowed to a glorified drip. In his mind he pleaded with the water spout not to make so much noise; promised it he’d put in a new one as soon as he’d returned Jon’s water to him, mouthed encouragements to it. Not much farther, just to the top of the M, come on, you can do it. (The bottle was an Institute freebie, with Magnus Institute inscribed on it in black-bordered green letters. Martin had one just like it somewhere in his flat. Worm bait now, he supposed.)

By the time he brought it back Jon’s eyes were on the statement in his hands. Skimming, by the looks of it, rather than either actually reading or pretending to.

Martin endeavored to set down his refilled water audibly, but not painfully loudly. But Jon’s answering “Thank you” took him so much by surprise that at the last moment his wrist jerked and the bottle fell over.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.” It had a lid, so, not an actual disaster? Jon did snarl at him though, or at least at the noise. His hands flew up as if to cover his ears, but he seemed to reject that idea halfway through. Just closed his fists around thin air, then leant his temple on one of them and sighed through his nose. “Sorry,” Martin said again. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon’s emphatic blink seemed to stand in for a nod.

“Anyway, here’s a further [sixteen ounces] for you, looks like, or thereabouts,” ventured Martin, patting the side of the water bottle with one hand while holding it down with the other so it definitely wouldn’t topple again. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“Mm.”

“Good luck.”

—

After his stunt with the water bottle Martin had too much distrusted himself to risk making another big noise with the door, so he’d left it with its tongue sticking out rather than latching it. This meant he made almost no sound when he entered again. The first thing he noticed was that the water in Jon’s bottle still reached the top of the M. It still sat in the same place, too—not out of Jon’s reach but far enough away (Martin had told himself at the time) not to seem an imposition on his space. Almost definitely not where one would set it if one intended to pick it up again soon. His coffee seemed to have fared a bit better though. Half empty, one might say. Optimistically.

The second thing he noticed was Jon himself, who sat with his elbows on the desk, his chin on the heels of his palms, and his fingers arranged around his eyes like fence posts. Like a child peeking out at something they’re too scared to look at directly—except that his eyes were closed.

Martin snuck back to the other side of the door and knocked on it, gently. “Hey, uh, Jon?”

He didn’t look up, and opened his eyes for only a second before shutting them again. But he did drop his hands, threaded his fingers together and set them on the table, and bit his lip. “What, Martin.”

“Er—well, I know you said you’d given up looking for Marcus McKenzie’s statement, but I just realized I never asked if you’d thought to look in the discredited section. I mean, from what he said on the phone it didn’t sound like he took his dad’s statement all that seriously, so, maybe Gertrude put it in there, as, like, corroborating evidence that it wasn’t paranormal, and McKenzie senior’s statement just got misfiled?”

“Martin, I invented the discredited section.”

“Oh.”

“Anything else you wanted to say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing important. Just wondered if you’d like me to take that mug away.”

Instead of responding verbally, Jon picked up the mug and made what seemed a valiant effort to drink a little more of the coffee inside it. From what Martin could tell, he barely managed not to grimace in disgust.

“Do you like coffee? I’m not a big fan of it either, to be honest. Oh, well. If you can’t force that down you’ve still got plenty of water there, I see. Besides, it’ll wash out the taste.” (With an actual heh heh, which came out more like a small dog panting than like human laughter.)

Dramatic, snarly sigh from Jon. “Think I’ll pass. It seems to make it worse, if anything.”

“Oh. Sorry about that; must be those pesky tannins. I’ll just take your cup now then.”

But Jon only tightened his grip on it. “Water, I meant. The coffee’s fine. Not exactly my favorite beverage in the world, but, you were right. It’s a good idea.”

“Oh. Thanks, I’m glad you.” Martin smiled, then frowned. “Wait, water makes it worse?”

“Seems to.”

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t just—too cold, or something.”

His laugh sounded bitter, hollow—theatrically so, in fact. A perfect Ha ha ha, except he didn’t say those words, didn’t enunciate them like Sasha sometimes did when Tim made a bad joke. He just made the exact sounds they were invented to transcribe. “No, Martin. I haven’t just been giving myself a brain freeze every time I.”

“…Right, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” For a few silent seconds Martin picked at a notch in his thumbnail, carved there earlier this morning by a stubborn paperclip. Part of him wanted to tear the nail off and have done, but he knew it would bleed if he did. Nothing to clip it with in the Archives, obviously. “Are you sure you won’t try again? This water’s quite tepid, actually, since I got it literally from the bottom of the barrel—”

“Martin—”

“Sorry, sorry. Just thought it was worth—”

“Don’t you have something better to do.”

“Er… no, actually. Pretty much finished with everything, at the momen…t. Though if you’d like to give me another assignment I’d be happy to—yeah. Do that, for you. Or I mean, for the sake of the Archives; I don’t mean it’d just be, like, busy work. Not accusing you of that or anything.”

“Are you comfortable leaving the Archives?”

For half a second Martin heard this as a hint—an offer? a threat?—that Jon meant to have him transferred to another department. Then he wondered if Jon was hinting it was time Martin found somewhere else to live. “What, like, permanently?”

“No—just as long as it takes to track down and interview Georgie Barker about her role in the statement Ms. King gave us.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think so, uh. Thank you for asking? I mean, Prentiss said she was done with me, right. At least, me personally. And she already knows I’m here, so it’s not like.”

Jon replied shortly, “Yes.”

“I’d like to listen to Ms. King’s statement first, though, if that’s alright. What’d you say it was about? The Cambridge Military Hospital?”

Another short, emphatic, nose-directed sigh. Couldn’t be too stuffed-up then, Martin guessed. “Technically, yes, though Ms. King insists the building itself had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh. What was it about, then?”

“She alleges that a woman she hired to help film one of her ghost stories peeled the skin off her arm.”

“Oh my god! I mean, did you—was she okay? Did she show you her arm? Did it seem to have—you know—skin?”

“Her own arm, not Ms. King’s.”

“Oh.” Martin sighed for himself now, though with relief rather than exasperation. Managed a tiny laugh, as well. “Okay, well, that’s. Creepy as hell, but, not nearly as bad as.”

“Mm. Nor nearly as verifiable as your version.”

“T…rue, no, I guess not. Anyway do you have the tape? I’d like to listen myself, if that’s.”

Jon pointed to a small stack of tapes on the bookshelf to Martin’s right. Sure enough, the top one had M. King, 0161704 sharpied across the label on its side. “Ah! Found it. Thanks.” He had a tape player squirreled away already; on another day he might’ve pretended otherwise, but for the moment he was too relieved not to have to make a pest of himself by asking to borrow one to worry whether the absence of that request might make Jon suspicious.

Besides, Jon seemed pretty… absorbed in himself, this morning. By the time Martin turned to face him again one of Jon’s hands had crept back up to his face, where its fingers now seemed to comb the hairs of his left eyebrow. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Jon do that before, plus doubted the hairs in question needed his help to lie flat. Jon’s eyebrows had always struck him as quite neat. Plus Martin had tried that with his own eyebrows plenty of times before the mirror in his youth, and knew it didn’t work very well even if you licked your finger—which Martin assumed Jon hadn’t. So he figured he should file this behavior in the same box as the earlier fist-clenching-to-avoid-covering-ears thing. As, like, headache-soothing for people who don’t want to look weak. Or unprofessional, or something to that effect.

This gave him a sense of foreboding when he thought too hard about it. But Martin needed so badly to keep this job, now that his flat wasn’t safe anymore. It seemed wiser not to look directly at abstract threats like that. If he could make Jon feel better then it wouldn’t matter, right? Or at least could be put off til next time.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Don’t recall saying I was,” Jon muttered.

Martin winced. He had said he was alright—Martin was certain. When he’d first come in that morning, he’d said he was fine when Martin asked, and then he’d closed the door. Didn’t seem worth correcting him over it, though. So Martin just said, “Try to drink something while I’m gone, yeah? Kool-Aid, for all I care, just. You really don’t look like you’re feeling all that well. And any kind of drink other than alcohol should—oh.”

He looked up, hearing Jon swallow what sounded like a lot more than the tiny sip of coffee he’d managed before.

“Well. Great. Thank you for obliging me.”

Jon continued to gulp down water, while staring right at Martin. He paused in swallowing to breathe, but even then did not remove the mouth of the bottle from his own mouth. When he tried to resume drinking it made him cough instead, and even then he didn’t set it down.

“O-okay, well, I’m sure that’s plenty, don’t—?” Hurt yourself, Martin wanted to say, but feared that would sound patronizing. The bottle was more than half empty now. Jon paused for air again. “For god’s sake, Jon, stop—that looks like it hurts—you don’t have to—?”

At last he slammed the empty bottle on his desk—more loudly than could possibly be comfortable for a man with a headache. Leant his elbow on the table, and between pants huffed a laugh and said, “Care to refill it for me?”

On a sort of autopilot Martin chirped, “Uh—sure! No problem I’ll just,” and rushed off with it to the break room. This refill took much less time, since he’d remembered to change out the thingy. But it still took long enough that by the time he got back he worried, “You’re not going to chug this one too, are you?”

“No,” said Jon, eyes and hands both busy now with a statement hitherto hidden by his elbow. He did not reach out a hand to take the bottle from Martin.

“Okay, I’ll just. Leave this here then. See you after the, uh. Yeah.”

—

And lo, it was as he had feared. Chugging [sixteen ounces] of water did indeed make his headache worse. By ten it seemed to count turning the page of a statement as an exertion worth pounding over. True, by lunch time it seemed to have backed off a bit—until he sat back down at his desk with his fork and plate. On his way to the microwave he’d thought he must be on the mend: his head throbbed a little harder than when he’d been seated, but not so much he’d have noticed the difference had he not set out to pay attention to it. Some food, maybe an ibuprofen or two and he’d be fixed, he’d told himself.

Once he got to the break room, though, he noticed something else odd. His limbs were weak. His knees seemed made of jelly, and wobbled beneath him every time he shifted his weight; his arms were steady enough, but when he set down the pizza box on the counter after retrieving it from the fridge he felt a surge of relief, which he hardly understood until he’d transferred a slice from the no-onion half onto a plate and picked up the latter to put it in the microwave. Even these tiny movements made his arms, neck and chest ache like they do when you hold your breath too long. He leant his elbows against the counter and gulped down air until his mouth felt so dry he couldn’t bear to keep it open. Wondered if he should sit down; he felt a bit dizzy. But he had less than 30 seconds left to wait for the microwave, which he figured couldn’t hurt him.

It didn’t, but the walk back to his office did a bit. Moving his legs’ sluggish muscles made his whole body ache—again like it does when you run too long and have to stop for breath. He figured it must be in a similar spirit that his head waited til he’d sat down to unleash its onslaught. Before leaving his desk he’d grown used to thinking of his heart beat’s faint buzzy shocks like the second hand on a clock, criticizing him under its breath from where it watched behind his eyes. This was… a great deal worse than that. He tried to time the beats against the ticking of his wrist watch, but couldn’t seem to focus on that and breathe at the same time. They were fast, though, at least at first. His heart rate did seem to calm down fairly quickly, but he could swear it never got all the way back down to its earlier rate—at least not before his attention shifted from the speed to just. How much it hurt.

Was that what made his slice of pizza so tasteless? When he cut his first bite, on its way to his mouth he thought he caught a whiff of the red onions with which its tip must have shared space, and only his horror of Tim asking What was wrong with that part, then? when he brought the otherwise-empty plate back to the sink stopped him from scraping that bite off his fork and trying again higher up the slice. But when he finally forced himself to eat it? Nothing. No onion taste, thank god, but everything else too seemed… muted. Hardly worth how the exertion of chewing made his head hammer after each swallow. Jon knew the taste of food was hardly the point of eating it, but? In the absence of everything he normally liked about cheese and meat and bread and vegetables, the fact the cheese squelched in his mouth made him wish he’d never left his bed. The way leaves of soggy spinach flapped over the sides of even his neatly-cut rectangles. His stomach tightened in revulsion, so that in his throat he could feel each swallowed lump shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be let in. Not to mention how the effort of cutting it shook the whole damn table.

He told himself he could skip the crust. If Tim asked about it, Jon’d just tell him it’d gone stale. Just get through the… other part, the crumb, the filling. Between throbs the ache in his tired jaw merged with the one behind his eyes. Why didn’t it always hurt to chew? Did the pleasure of tasting food give you enough endorphins to cancel it out? Would everyone have this problem all the time if we had to live on, say, dry toast?

Right, okay, close enough. Ibuprofen now. No, you idiot—other drawer. In the fantasy versions he’d rehearsed of this moment he clapped four of them from his palm into his mouth at once, and swallowed them dry. But his blister pack turned out to have only three left. Which was fine! Just fine. Better, probably, after so little lunch.

Also, dry-swallowing was kind of a misnomer? He’d never really thought about it before, but. Turned out it would only work if your so-called “dry” mouth had spit in it. As it was the pills stuck to his tongue, leaving streaks of spicy burnt-orange when he tried to claw them back toward his throat with his teeth. When they got far back enough on his tongue he had to concentrate not to gag, and they still stuck—even when he turned his nose to face the ceiling and thumped on his chin with his hand (which, ouch)—at that point he gave up and unscrewed his water. Allowed as little of it in his mouth as would let him swallow these damn things, and wash their stains off his tongue. And it still made his head throb harder.

Jon imagined shooting whoever next told him to stay hydrated. He derived little joy from the fantasy, though; couldn’t not think of the loud, sharp noise it would make.

Returning the plate could wait, he decided; not like it would attract worms in the thirty minutes it’d take for the pills to kick in. Meanwhile he’d just… keep sorting. He took a statement off the top of the pile in front of him and blinked at it over and over, until his vision resolved into a shape he told himself hurt marginally less than the others. 9720406, Nathaniel Thorp. Christ, 1972? “Misfiled” was practically an understatement for that one. And here he’d thought Gertrude had kept that part of the century in relative good order. Still, he stuck it on the all other years pile and reached for another. 0130111, David Laylow. Nope—still not 2003. 0002610, Jennifer Wong. 0910203, Lisa Jones. 0081711, Donald Gately. 0100912, Lawrence Mortimer. 0152101, Uzma Rashid. Ha!—0030707, Seymour… Backsides. Wait a minute. Hadn’t he seen a prank statement with that name before lunch? He grabbed a stack off the 2003 pile and found… Rashid, Mortimer, Gately. Had he switched the—? Look in the unsorted pile again, he told himself. Under where he’d found Mr. Backsides’ tale he uncovered statements 0031212, 0032504, 0031809, and so on. Great. After Seymour he must’ve got mixed up. There was no more unsorted pile—not on his desk, anyway. He’d have to pull some more out of the… open filing cabinet which stood across the room with its tongue stuck out at him. Yeah, well, that could wait too. For now he’d just. Check his email.

#a shifty tract #to be clear hyponatremia is uh. too little sodium in blood. it is the 'eat more salt' ailment #it's very common w/ dehydration so any diuretic (i.e. med that makes you pee more) can cause it?#my plan here was to have martin complain to tim and sasha that he Broke Jon and when he mentions jon said water made it worse ('god why #('didn't i just believe him?') tim as the only Sports Guy in the archives recognizes ah-ha! electrolytes!#and either get him himself or tell martin to get him some trail mix and sports drink #and have jon drag his feet since every other suggestion his coworkers have given him over the last few days of headache &c. has been Garbage #but eventually cave out of pure frustration--enjoy the taste of salty raisin and stale pretzel so much he grins til his face hurts--#and figure out it must be 'cause he switched adhd meds recently #(...tho apparently it's rare for them to have this effect BUT THEY CAN! i have two data points)#nonsearchable tma tag

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emerald-studies · 4 years

Text

Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]

—-

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.

It was junior year that broke me.

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me.

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.

Fuck off.

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.

I said,

“No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.

Guess who didn’t notice?

All 8 of those concerned teachers.

They don’t give a shit.

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no.

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything.

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened.

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing.

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher.

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher.

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.

So.... discussion time.

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

#blm #black lives matter #education #academia #black women matter #discussion #racism #history #mental health

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painted-crow · 3 years

Text

Submission time #19

so i’ve been spending the last little bit unburning my lion primary. now i’m sort of lost on secondary? i suspect i have bird in there somewhere but i’m having a hard time separating my natural secondary and a model that i really like and find helpful. (or maybe it’s the now-surprisingly-loud lion primary drive for authenticity coming through?) so if it’s okay with you, i’ll take a crack at some of the quiz questions and see if there’s anything of note? spacing might be weird—i’m on mobile :/

Sure thing!

When you succeed, how influential in that success were the people around you?

my answer to this one depends on the day. yes, they’re extremely influential; no, i don’t always like it. not because i don’t appreciate or need the help but because it got into my head in a funny way growing up. i’ve always been tremendously lucky to have people who love and want to help me, but like... it gets to the point where it feels like i’m nothing on my own. how much of this is a favour? what do i owe you? are you just trying to spare my feelings or because i’m related to someone else? i’m desperate to be able to say (and believe) that i’ve done something for myself on my own terms.

Ooh, okay. So, you've maybe got some caretaker Badgers around you, but that's not you--you don't really value this in yourself, even if it's how the community around you works. If you have any Badger secondary, it's anxious.

Do people consider you charismatic?

charisma is SUCH a concept. it gives off such an animal magnetism, face of the revolution vibe, which is not me at all. i have to work hard to be nice bc most people deserve the benefit of the doubt (as i repress the instinct to be judgy and mean LMAO) and also bc it just works better socially? flies and honey and all that. i also have very specific ways of being nice: “mom friend” and “hypercompetent rookie in line of succession” and “spicy and nonjudgmental confidante” which, granted, are already all parts of my personality just emphasized for clarity. i think of it like... personality colour correction, or... code-switching i guess.

You've literally just described Actor Bird. Also, you're not very nice when you describe yourself, are you?

people tend to like me more than i like me, though, and it catches me a little by surprise every time. maybe it’s just because i live in my own head and it’s a lot quieter and more anxious up here. it does suck a little, suddenly being worried that like “ooh ppl only like what u show them but that’s not how u rlly are”

Lions (primary or secondary) and Actor Bird can really clash... it sounds like you're discovering that your primary doesn't like this tactic as it unburns. Also, I think Bird masks just take a lot of energy if used long term. That might be me though.

so i’ll Sprinkle In Some Light Trauma to gauge the reaction (and regret it immediately). the truth is that not many people make it past the social utility part of friendship and so i don’t rlly... feel safe? putting down the masks which are designed to smooth interactions in any case. (so i guess YES but actually no i’m charismatic but also that’s a very different public facing side)

Yeah, this is all Actor Bird so far. Also, hugs.

Do you like going into situations with a plan?

mmm. i don’t think i plan so much as i attempt to see into the future and force my best outcome. i HATE going in blind—if i can a way around something, i will, but if i can’t it has to at least be a good and sensible attempt. most of the plans i usually put together have coping-mechanism, doodling while on a phone call energy: too granular to ever implement, just something to put order to the things you’re thinking.

This is still lots of Bird energy. Plans don't always look the same, you know? And some of us barely use 'em at all.

like, i do have all my degree requirements and preferred classes listed out, because that’s important and i should have that sorted out correctly before declaring my major. but the hour by hour daily schedule is more of a thing to make me feel in control and like i’ve put the work into considering it.

i’m also a stereotypical nerd: i have an english/history brain, i write a lot, i fall down personality inventory rabbit holes for fun, i pick up random things that end up relevant years later, nothing was as distressing as not being able to read for fun bc university was just Too Much—you know the drill.

I do, but not everyone is like this. You're probably a Bird, and I wonder if you're taking your secondary for granted because you feel like it's expected of you.

but for someone who plans as a coping mechanism, it’s also sometimes the best way to put me off. like i don’t know, being friends, which is the only thing in my life where traditional overthinking would RUIN it absolutely.

i know someone who semi-despairingly refers to herself as machiavellian because she interacts with people like it’s 4D chess.

Huh, so your friends don't talk about themselves very nicely either.

collects info, reshapes her entire personality into something designed to appeal to whoever she’s talking to. i tried not to get into motive bc socializing really is like That sometimes, but i couldn’t imagine pulling that off. i talk big game about acting a certain way, but only in ways that are already part of me yk? if i couldn’t believe i was being legit in some way i’m like 97% sure it would show through somehow and make it real weird.

You're still on Actor Bird. Your friend might have a Snake model? but you're an Actor Bird.

How do you feel about shortcuts?

work smart not hard, she says, working hard anyway bc she needs to see all the little things fall into place just to make sure that they do.

seriously though, that is for “important enough” things: i need to see it done to standard. i can rest only with a job well done kind of thing—due diligence so that any tomfoolery that goes down isn’t my fault and therefore no one can get mad at me.

This might be a Badger model, and I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say you picked this up from your community because it's what they expect of you. You don't seem to take any joy in it, though; it seems like an anxious response.

also i have beef with the idea of being gullible, so i’m gonna see it with my OWN EYES. for less important things, it’s a heart says yes mind says no situation. i love the shortcut that saves time and effort but keeps the quality, which is plentiful when it’s like. pasta sauce, but not when it’s like. the Donner party heading to california. i would love to shorten that stuff, but the consequences of a poorly done shortcut are more painful than the slog.

Bird modeling Badger. Yep.

Do you feel the need to keep the peace?

(it didn’t come up on this run of the quiz but i’ve been mulling over for a while!)

Huh. This question doesn't always come up? I always get it. I have to assume it's the quiz checking for Badger.

i’ve got a fairly bad temper and a transparent face. so no—i’m not much for keeping the peace. i can do it properly if compelled, but it’s exhausting and irritating and only really makes me resentful of the emotional labour.

Whether you can keep the peace is kind of separate from whether you feel you should, but you also really dislike being in that role. You're modeling some Bookkeeper Badger, which doesn't actually make you happy, and you really don't seem to like using Courtier for anything.

does it bother me when people fight? yeah, like most people do when it’s a rift-causing argument in a group they care strongly about, but if i’m not more loyal to one side of the dispute i’m much more likely to take out all the parties and have done with it. i’ve been known to fight back or even start stuff if the cause is important enough, or i have spleen to vent, but i’m a very messy arguer so staying out of it and collecting receipts in the background is much more my style.

Wonder if you've got some Lion secondary hiding out in your Houses. You don't like going into things unprepared, but maybe there's a Lion model you could be nurturing that would make you happier than that Badger mess that's been pushed on you.

anyway. this was long. made me think harder about badger than i thought. lots of feelings, but def not as sad as the ones i typed up and deleted ages ago which i elect to count as progress. thanks for making it this far hahahah

Yay! Progress!

Yeah, I don't think you're a Badger. It really doesn't make you happy. You sound like a Bird to me: actor Bird, rapid fire Bird, but not Badger. Not Snake, either; if you're a rapid fire or actor Bird (or both) you might mis-Sort yourself into Snake, but I'm not getting that from you.

--Paint

#sortinghatchats #submission #ravenclaw secondary #hufflepuff secondary model #rapid fire bird #actor bird #paint speaks

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tiesandtea · 4 years

Text

Mr. Lazy – fanzine interview with Alan Fisher, December 2004

intrepid suede globetrotters elina and sirje conducted this interview with alan fisher, the man about whom songs like "lazy", "high rising", "beautiful loser" and, according to the man himself, "the most of the others as well" have been written. (editor's note: not to suggest that alcohol played any part in this q&a session, but it did take place in alan's local. oh, and in other locations in the uk, plus morocco & finland, in both oral & written forms. anyway, surely worth all the so-called trouble.) no animals, be they cats or terrapins, were harmed during this interview, but a considerable amount of wine bottles did get destroyed.

how long have you known brett? where did you grow up?

i have known brett since i was 16/17 – near on 20 years now. i grew up in sussex, near haywards heath.

how does it feel that so many of brett’s lyrics are about you? (did you ever get the feeling that brett was just kind of observing you or waiting around for you to do something flamboyant so that he could write about it?)

it’s very flattering to know that some lyrics are about me. however i was never aware of brett observing me purposely to get lyrics or ideas for songs. it’s funny because there are so many songs that are very personal to me, and you think some part of the song is about you, and they are not. over the years many friends who have been in close contact with brett and the music think that songs are about them, because of various lyrical content. i think brett has ability to take elements from friends’ lives or chapters and create a story blended together, a fusion of characters in one song. i remember when i heard “the big time” and the last line – “now we’re in the big time and you’re in the way” i was extremely put out, i took it very personally. i thought it referred to me, but luckily it didn’t. however i’m pleased to say that my favourite song has to be “lazy”. the original version i think went like this – “here they come with their make up on as lovely as the birds come and see them” which i think is very beautiful. which changed to “here they come gone 7 am bla bla bla”, which was about being up all night, then putting on make up so as to hide the effects of being on a bender, and going down to off-license to buy cornflakes and bottles of red wine.

what was the best experience traveling with suede? (what happened in las vegas?)

difficult question, as i’ve had many amazing experiences on tour with suede. two very contrasting escapades were one journey in japan, and one on the west coast of america. brett and myself had the fortunate experience of visiting a buddhist temple in japan called the “moss gardens”. we visited a temple that was so beautiful and peaceful, and the entire gardens were immersed in moss with beautiful ponds and waterfalls. we sat in the temple and wrote a mantra admist buddhist chanting, which i believe influenced the song “introducing the band”. the other experience was a trip to la, san francisco and las vegas. i seem to remember i hadn’t been to bed for a few days, and when i was there i didn’t sleep much for various reasons. we stayed at a friend’s house in beverly hills called michiko, a house of pure opulence, with plenty of alcohol and other fineries. i seem to remember that towards the end (in vegas) brett wouldn’t let me sleep – just more alcohol. and i think that when i went to bed brett checked to make sure i was alive.

what will/do you miss the most about suede?

the thing i miss the most about suede is being around when a great song is created. i’d come home and brett would say “i’ve got it.”, some missing song on the album and consequently we would stay up night after night listening to the same song over and over – the poor neighbours.

at what part of his career was brett at his happiest?

when he was writing happy songs. actually i don’t think brett ever made happy songs. only joking! i don’t know when brett was actually the happiest. i think maybe when the band first started and the first album came out, that’s when he realised his dreams were coming true.

has brett being famous ever bothered you?

brett being famous has never bothered me; in fact it’s been quite a relief; it’s taken the limelight away from me.

fame can and has certainly changed many people who obtain it. how do you think it's affected brett over the years? has it affected your friendship?

i don’t think fame has changed brett’s fundamental characteristics, obviously it has shaped his life aspects like walking down the street, or having a drink in pub. i think living with me for so long has definitely fucked him up.

is there a lot of divergence between brett's public persona and the man underneath it all?

not really. he’s the same complex, passionate and artistic character at home and on stage, i don’t know about the bedroom though!!

how were the new band members really welcomed?

some dreadful, unmentionable initiation ceremonies.

was brett & bernard getting back together a surprise for you? how do you like the new material? how about brett’s solo material?

not really; they had a magic chemistry together that never really fulfilled its potential. and the new stuff is absolutely great! wait and see!!

what's all this about brett meditating? it was mentioned in the love & poison book.

i haven’t actually read love & poison, which is extremely lame of me, eventually i will. however, i think brett has some interest in meditating, maybe from visiting japan’s buddhist temples and being influenced by their way of living, zen and all that.

is brett good at pub quizzes?

brett, i could imagine, is very good at pub quizzes if he entered them. they have a quiz at our local pub, i think brett and mat osman entered once, and came a very admirable second place, which is no mean feat, because it’s a very professional affair in that establishment.

have there been times when brett did something you wish he hadn't? musical decisions or anything.

i can’t think of anything that resembles a mistake or regret in terms of musical direction. over the years, artists are faced with monumental decisions to make in terms of artistic development; single releases; band commitment and general themes for the forthcoming albums. however, i think brett has the ability to listen to other people’s opinions as well as his own, to come up with the best viable decision. considering the turbulent times of drug taking and various band members coming and going, i don’t think he’s done too badly.

how posh is brett?

how posh is brett – what a strange question – in fact the hardest one i’ve ever been asked! – not at all. crikey, well for somebody that came from a council house and bought second hand records/clothes. he now drinks tea at 4 o’clock in proper bone china tea cups – doesn’t get any posher than that. oh! and he has a butler called jessica rabbit.

does he watch sports on tv?

well it has to be football, brett hates posh sports like cricket & rugby (un)like me. he is very obsessive over the england football team, ipswich and manchester united (because that’s my team, and i always cry when they lose).

what's brett's best quality?

brett’s best quality is having good taste in friends and good taste in music, i.e., suede.

and his worst?

i can’t think of his worst qualities, but i remember the worst thing living with him, he would always become too comfortable on the sofa which would mean i would have to rewind the suede demos and go out and get another bottle of wine from the off-license.

we're sorry this is all about suede/brett... when we start an alan fanzine we’ll interview you about yourself... ok?

ok.

tell us a secret

my favourite colour is black.

how much do suede lie in the interviews? (if you read them)

i’m too busy to read suede interviews, i’ve got my own press cuttings to examine.

what do you think brett would have become without suede?

i’m sure it would have only been with some musical compaction. however, our living arrangements would have resembled something out of “the servant”.

what about you? how much has suede affected you?

suede were the most important thing in my life. as my girlfriend just put it a moment ago whilst i was writing this, it’s like going out with three people: her, me and suede. as i tell her, it could have been worse: i could have been friends with ronan keating.

do you love us? what do you think of suede fans in general? a lovely bunch on whole, or have you had some harrowing experiences with obsessed loonies?

well, i’m a suede fan myself, so i would have to say they are great. obsessed loonies? i am one; i have been stalking brett for 20 years, but he doesn’t realise.

there are lots of mentions of yours and brett's drug use in l&p. is this an accurate characterization of the state of affairs or did it get glammed up a bit for press?

it’s all a myth, i once smoked a joint with brett, it was really far out man! oh, and i snorted some glue at a dinner party once, it was so chic.

tell us something about suede that we don't know.

they are a figment of your imagination!!

tell us something about brett that we don't know.

i know something extremely juicy, real top gossip. but you’re going to have to wait to see whether he meets my blackmail demands.

if you were an animal, what kind of animal would he be? what kind of animal would brett be?

brett refers to me as an electrocuted rabbit, something similar to the mad hatter in alice in wonderland. i think brett would be a very feline cat.

speaking of cats, they tend to go missing, don’t they?

we had a cat called meisk – when brett was on tour it went missing. when i found it on the street, i thought it had a cold because it had a funny meow – it turned out to be the wrong cat. i remember brett was extremely pissed off. we had another cat called sphinx that was an incredibly lively character, it had a long run up – then produced its claws and wham!!

have you ever been arrested?

yes! on several occasions, on suspicion of being sinister and bad influence on society.

dave thompson’s yet-to-be-published suede-book, an armchair guide to suede, includes this:

"‘young men’ developed out of lyrics written for a joke band, the bruisers, that anderson, his flatmate alan and a hairdresser friend named gary hatched one evening;"

can you tell us anything more about this?

after one crazy night early in the morning we had this inspiration to form a band based on idea of national front skinheads with the title song “british bulldog”. brett and gary were both very amusing and inventive with songs like “santa ain’t a wanker” etc.

besides that, have you ever been musically inclined or in a band yourself?

after hearing brett playing an instrument called the melodica, something like a mouth organ with a pipe attached to it, waking me every morning, it put me off music for life.

what other music are you into besides suede?

sigue sigue sputnik and mozart.

have you and brett ever had a fist fight? have you ever fought over who does the shopping or cleans the toilet or whose dirty plates are in the sink?

we have never had a fist fight in 20 years. however, we once had a duel at sunrise over who was the vainest.

that’s it then. say something nice. or mean. whatever you like. thanks!

stop asking me questions about brett, and more about myself!

Source: Pornographic & Tragic, the official Suede fanzine, issue 2 (December 2004).

#suede #this is actually a great & fun read

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lightsandlostbells · 4 years

Text

wtFOCK season 3, episode 4 reaction

Kiss kiss fall in love? More like kiss kiss stay away from me.

I have to warn you. This is the episode where I lost it. I had to go back and edit so much unhappy capslock out of my notes.

Episode 4

Clip 1 - Het drama again

Zoë shows Milan a video of the shooting prank. Milan asks about romance on the trip, Robbe says there were too many people and too little privacy.

Senne and Zoë have tension because Zoë is pissed that Senne was partying? And that he was posting pictures of parties on IG when she wasn’t there? I mean … look, I’m never a William fan, but this seems like Zoë’s problem. If you can’t trust him to behave when you’re gone, you SHOULDN’T BE WITH HIM. And if you feel like you can trust him, this dude going to bars or whatever shouldn’t bother you. At least it seems to be portrayed as Zoë’s issues. Milan mentions that she’s jealous. He seems to like Senne, and I do find that dynamic cute so far.

I do appreciate that the Noorhelm drama this time is boring and not like “Senne was mad about how Zoë handled her sexual assault” levels of offensive.

That being said ... Robbe’s story. Where.

If you’ve been telling a very tight story so far, where Robbe’s personal journey has been steadily progressing clip by clip, then a clip like this wouldn’t be that bad. We absolutely have not been watching a tight story. Even with the next clip of Robbe doing some introspection, I’m like ... can we not make every scene count toward his story when there’s so much catching up to do? Ten seconds of Robbe looking vaguely troubled out of a two-minute clip that’s mainly about Zoë and Senne’s relationship does not count. A better writer would find some way to make Zoë/Senne parallel to Robbe/Sander, like how Noora talking about William and “if he loves you, he’ll choose you” in the first clip of episode 4 is relevant to Isak sitting there texting Even and Even choosing his plans with Sonja over Isak.

Clip 2 - Milan and Robbe talk gaydar

Robbe checking out Sander on Britt’s IG … finally, some cyberstalking. Did he take a screenshot of a pic of Sander? Lol.

Milan sits down and asks Robbe his opinion of a guy on Grindr, sexy or not? Robbe is lukewarm, giving neutral answers, Milan says he’s allowed to have an opinion on whether a guy is hot or not.

It feels SO WEIRD to have this clip so late, and I’m trying to like … recalibrate my brain so it’s not just because it’s later than usual. I don’t inherently hate if a remake changes up the order of clips. But the problem is that we’re now FOUR episodes in and it feels like Robbe’s sexuality crisis has just begun, I guess? Or rather, efficient storytelling would start out with this clear view of what Robbe’s issues are, rather than muddling into it a few episodes in.

Milan’s all, this guy says he’s not gay, but he likes to blow guys. This turns into a conversation about Milan’s gaydar and how to know if a guy is gay. In the original scene, the purpose of this conversation with Isak and Eskild was there as a way of Isak figuring out if Even was gay. That ... does not really fit this version, because this clip is so late in the season. Isak was getting Eskild’s wisdom right after meeting Even, when he had nothing but a BJ reference to go on. But Sander eyefucking Robbe while kissing Britt and leaning in to kiss Robbe should be pretty big clues to Robbe that Sander likes men, no? And that he likes Robbe specifically. Yeah, Robbe might be doubtful because Sander is still with Britt, but nothing new has happened since the almost kiss to make Robbe doubt! It would make way more sense if they’d adapted the opening clip of OG season 4, with Even texting Isak that he had plans with Sonja, into the clip prior to this one. If Robbe had texted Sander an invitation to hang out, or even just a “hey, what’s up?” and Sander wrote back “plans with Britt” then it would be an understandable transition for Robbe to have some doubt about Sander’s sexuality in this clip, like hey, maybe he’s not actually into me, after all.

The scene might make sense if you think about Robbe listening and applying Milan’s words to himself. Thinking about how there’s “something trapped in them that desperately wants to come out.” Wondering if it’s obvious to other people that Robbe is gay. It still doesn’t quite work and I actually doubt that was their intention (I think it was all about how to detect if Sander is into guys) but I am searching for any scraps of Robbe introspection, so.

OK, at least they had Robbe immediately look up Grindr (I laughed that he searched “grinder”). Good! Sexuality conflict! Why is it so late! Although it was probably more about trying to find Sander rather than a personal move on Robbe’s part.

This is a very gay song, btw (I Like Boys by Todrick Hall).

Clip 3 - Robbe and Yasmina talk het drama

Aaron talks to Robbe about sitting close to his teacher to see her boobs and the teacher saying she knows why he’s sitting there. I highly suspect this is just a dream Aaron had, unless the teacher said it in a pissed off way. Throw his ass in the back row, big-breasted teacher!

Robbe meets up with Yasmina. Yasmina wants to know the dirt from the seaside, Robbe fills her in. Soooo are they good friends, or what? He tells her about Aaron and Amber and they laugh and stuff. I mean it’s cute and all but like … where is this coming from? Did they become great friends in the S2 that I didn’t watch?

And that’s the whole clip … again, I ask what was the point?

To establish that Robbe and Yasmina are friends? Way to undermine the development and importance of that relationship by basically cutting through the buildup and hard work to the payoff. Sana and Isak meant more to people BECAUSE they started off prickly and grew to like each other and respect each other via their actions and words, right? That their conversations were more interesting because of their opposing views and resulting friction? That the friction was extremely relevant to the religion discussion?

Was the point to talk about Aaron/Amber and how Amber supposedly isn’t interested? We don’t need Yasmina’s commentary on that at all since we could see how Amber herself reacted to Aaron. Like if Yasmina was all, yeah, Amber couldn’t stop talking about Aaron, she says she doesn’t like him but I think she does, then I guess I could see the relevance of this conversation since it’s “new” information ... but it’s just the same shit we already know. And again: why spend so much time on a SIDE HET ROMANCE during a gay character’s season? Two of out three clips in this episode so far have been about side het romances!

This clip was just not needed at all except to set up Robbe and Yasmina so the impending religion conversation feels mildly less like two characters who have barely spoken on screen suddenly have an intense and somewhat personal talk. Something they could have done in earlier episodes instead of the other repetitive, unnecessary clips they’ve done this season.

Clip 4 - Dance chicks

At Noor’s dance performance, Robbe’s pals are drooling over the performers (and honestly being rather inappropriate and distracting). At least they got Robbe’s lack of interest right. Even though they have established this FIFTEEN THOUSAND TIMES with the lack of interest in Noor, like this clip almost doesn’t feel necessary at this point! If they’d had it earlier in the season, sure, but now it feels redundant. Like we really super mega get it by now that Robbe’s not into the girls.

The instructor thanks the performers at the end and Robbe says that he was “so gay.” Hey, except you know what? THERE IS NO BUILDUP TO THIS MOMENT. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NONE. Except for the homophobic jokes from his friends in the previous seasons, but there’s nothing I can recall in this season. But more importantly, Isak’s similar comment was prompted by him taking the gay test in a preceding clip. Taking a quiz about generalizations of gay people, rooted in homophobia! Which Isak applies to the dance teacher! In order to distance himself from being gay! WE GOT NONE OF THAT HERE. For fuck’s sake.

There is no setup or reason why Robbe goes from being somewhat neutral about gay people with Milan asking him about the Grindr dude two clips ago - where Robbe is just kinda like, yeah OK, whatever, you think everyone’s gay, Milan (but he’s not overly grossed out or homophobic) - to this moment where he’s making a derogatory comment about a person he perceives as flamboyantly gay. This scene just happens because it did in OG. And the thing is, obviously you can attribute Robbe’s reasoning here to internalized homophobia. We know internalized homophobia exists and why he has it. But this is a scripted narrative, and any scripted narrative needs to have things happen for a reason rather than just because.

I remember complaining that Skam Italia had a bizarre take on this scene. But that’s nothing compared to the laziness on display here.

Jens is like WTF at Robbe’s “so gay” comment, it’s clear he’s not feeling it. I do like that Robbe gets defensive when Jens scoffs at him. They ask Robbe why he’s such a downer lately and if it’s because of his dad, or because of the Vlogs. Robbe blames the vlogs and yells and walks off, they’re confused.

Lol I just realized that I don’t think there was any followup to the prank from the seaside trip that had Robbe all pissed off. Nothing to show that the boys reconciled or that Robbe didn’t get over it right away.

I have a big problem with the way the boy squad is characterized so far, and it might be because they come across as more self-absorbed than other boy squads, as well as having a more superficial bond. I feel like so far they’re a rather cynical take on teenage boyhood. Again, not expecting them to be perfect or to be overly mature, but this show has to do a lot of work to make me believe they have the empathy or maturity to deal with Robbe’s situation kindly. (EDIT from the future: lol)

Clip 5 - Robbe and Yasmina talk religion

Oh shit, somehow I didn’t connect that dots that Aaron mentioning the teacher’s boobs would lead to THE boob teacher making an appearance! Unless there are multiple teachers with notable breasts at this school.

Another scene of Robbe not interested in breasts ... I mean, not to sound like a broken record, but this would have been good about three episodes ago.

The teacher is talking about religion and Darwininsm and creationism, which prompts Robbe to complain about how people still have religious beliefs in 2019.

Heavy fucking sigh. Have we gotten ANY religious moments from Robbe’s mom this season? Or from anyone else? Do the writers realize that Isak grilling Sana about religion was prompted by his OWN MOTHER’S religious beliefs and his fear of her judgment of his sexuality? No? Not surprised.

For real, Robbe just complains about religion out of nowhere … and like, obviously religious homophobia isn’t a rare thing, it exists. But it has not been established why Robbe in particular cares about the effects of religious homophobia, compared to say, the casual homophobia of his friends, or gay stereotypes, or gay bashing … we don’t know why religious homophobia has PERSONAL relevance in Robbe’s life. And yes, this is a concern for every gay person! But from a STORYTELLING perspective, there should be some focus as to what Robbe’s main fears are about being gay. Lack of acceptance from his peers? His family? Religion? Violence? Homophobic slurs?

I would say based on previous seasons, the most compelling basis for Robbe’s internalized homophobia would be the homophobic attitudes of his friend group. A revised take on the dance chicks scene might have been done with this in mind, but it wasn’t, and so it’s all just very muddled.

Anyway, Robbe goes on this tangent and asks Yasmina why she believes in God. The teacher voices what I thought and is like, why the fuck are you talking in class?

Again, there is NO BUILDUP to the involvement of religion at all. They have this shoehorned in friendship, I guess so he can ask her. He does bring up homosexuality at least, and how religion is so black and white.

Yasmina asks him what he believes. ONE THING they got right: they had Robbe challenge Yasmina on an intellectual level, and so Yasmina challenges him on an intellectual level right back. Because a lot of their dialogue is lifted right from OG, that’s why it works. LMAOOOO. Yasmina points out that homosexuality is an evolutionary “dead end” so therefore it can’t be genetic, so what is it? A disorder? A choice? I will also give some credit for her invoking the most anxiety-causing options to get under Robbe’s skin.

But the tone of their friendship does come across very different, because in the previous scene they seemed like good chums who had a rapport, and here it’s like Robbe lashed out at her for no reason, even less than Isak did with Sana, because Robbe just decided to torch his friendship with Yasmina out of the blue. I guess the answer is that Robbe is cranky so he decided to grill Yasmina over religion, but again, the fucking question is: why was he cranky? Two clips before this one they were on warm, friendly terms. In the last clip, he lashed out at his male friends, but that has nothing to do with religion. What the writers are asking us to do is basically just imagine all the stuff that’s happening in Robbe’s brain instead of doing their jobs and showing it to us. You don’t have to spoon feed us but you don’t also get to stick a few peas on a plate and wonder why we’re going hungry.

(REALLY. IT WAS NOT PROMPTED BY ANYTHING, NOT A TEXT FROM HIS MOM. WHICH IS WHY ISAK WAS UPSET AND LAUNCHED HIS INTERROGATION AT SANA.)

(CAUSE AND EFFECT, MOTHERFUCKER)

Clip 6 - Bowie playlist

Robbe is doing homework when Sander sends him a Bowie playlist. Robbe listens to Space Oddity and has a brief Moment. It’s very nice but wow, wouldn’t it be even better if Robbe fell for Sander listening to that? Say, in the last episode? Before they almost kissed? And before Robbe was suddenly declaring himself a Bowie expert to Noor?

Sander calls him, I like Robbe fixing his hair before he answers. It’s a video chat, gotta look his best! They have an actual conversation about Bowie and they flirt. Sander invites Robbe to the cafe later and Robbe is happy except then Britt is in the background and apparently she’s going with them, so it’s not a date after all, oh no. Robbe’s actor is good at subtly conveying his disappointment here.

Robbe hangs up and sticks his head against the bed (lol) and then goes back to Grindr. He immediately gets messages for horny sex and then gets rid of Grindr.

At first I was like, yay, this clip had a clear point and a sense of cause-and-effect, but now I’m like ... ehhhhh. Because the purpose of Robbe checking out Grindr is either A) so he can look for Sander or B) so he can check it out as a general way of exploring his sexuality (or both). The suggestion is that it has a lot to do with the former, because it was part of Milan’s advice as to how to find out if someone’s gay. But it’s a little weird here, because Robbe just saw that Britt was coming along to the cafe, so he should be discouraged about Sander. I mean, I think it’s still possible that he’s trying to figure out if Sander likes him because he’s getting mixed signals between the playlist and Britt, but it’s just a little off. And as for option B, I’m not sure why now of all times is the best time for that, like if you think about it, the sting of getting his hopes dashed should be the predominant emotion here, would he go straight to Grindr just to be like hmmm, maybe I’m into dudes?

And it bugs me because there is a super easy fix to this clip! Just have Sander send the Bowie playlist, Robbe listens to it, and as he’s daydreaming and smiling a bit, he gets out his phone and checks out Grindr, ready to search for Sander. But there are too many sex messages so he’s just like WTF and gets rid of it. Then Sander calls and they have this conversation that ends in Robbe being reminded that Britt is still in the picture. (Or he doesn’t need to get the sexy messages at all, I mean they’re kind of funny but I’m not sure they’re plot-necessary here.)

Noor texts him that they’ll meet up later. It’s not 100% clear but it sounds like she knew about meeting up with Sander and Britt, so that means Britt probably told her previously. Which is a little bit of different context from OG, because I was under the impression that Even asked Isak to hang out with them hoping that they’d be alone, and then somehow Sonja found out and made it into a group thing with Emma, making Even grumpy. With this it seems like it was planned as a group thing from the beginning, Britt knows they’re meeting up later.

Or wait, when Sander says he’ll give Robbe advice at the cafe later, does that mean Robbe already knows they’re meeting up? That would make sense because it’s what happened in OG (Even invited Isak in an earlier clip and then Isak found out Emma and Sonja were coming in a later one). They’re incorporating all kinds of OG elements in this episode so I wouldn’t be surprised. But I assumed that this was the invite because we didn’t see Sander talk to Robbe earlier this week? Shouldn’t we have seen that clip since it’s the first time they’ve interacted since they almost kissed? I checked the texts for this episode and I don’t see anything like Sander inviting Robbe, either? Did I just miss something? What is going on?

Clip 7 - Robbe is late to meet Noor

Later that day …. Robbe rides a bike. Very fast. The music is dramatic! This would not be out of place for an O Helga Natt scene

And yet it’s not OHN, it’s Noor? Noor seems annoyed. Because Robbe is late. OH NO THE TENSION WHATEVER WILL WE DO. WE CARE A TON ABOUT ROBBE AND NOOR.

Noor is super pissed at him and starts screaming and shoving at him. What the actual fuck? She complains that she thought he was dead or something and is mad he didn’t even send a message. She says fuck you and walks off. Robbe follows her on the bike.

I don’t know how popular this opinion is, but Noor did not come across as great here, like when I watched it I was baffled at her response. I say this as someone who is chronically early and also gets annoyed at lateness. She has every right to be annoyed that Robbe is late and that he didn’t message her to tell her he’d be late, and I get that there’s supposedly more to her reaction than just this one incident. But the screaming and especially the shoving at him is just WTF.

Also, she told him to meet him at 19:00, and the beginning of the clip is at 19:21 (I see what you did there) and Robbe arrives like a minute or two later. So he’s 20 minutes late, which is certainly annoying, especially because it’s dark and chilly outside, but IMO not a cause for “I thought you were dead or in an accident!” and the OTT reaction.

Clip 8 - Robbe and Noor fight

Sander and Britt are in the cafe, Robbe and Noor argue outside about him giving her mixed signals. Has ... he ...?

OK, I’d say I half-see her case, and I half-don’t. If Noor can somehow sense Robbe’s disinterest during their makeouts or lovey-dovey moments or w/e, then I can buy that. I think there are slight moments where he doesn’t seem into it. But Robbe has put so much more genuine effort into their relationship than Isak did. He hasn’t even turned Noor down for sex, really, they’ve just gotten interrupted every time, or she’s thrown up. He didn’t want to go to her dance performance except then he told her he would go approximately thirty seconds later. He went to her dance performance. He went to the seaside with her and kissed her and slept in the same bed with her. This is the first time he’s actually fucked up with her.

Noor sounds ridiculous right now. “Do you still love me?” Uhhhh what??? You’ve been dating for less than a month, really? Did he tell her he loved her at any point? I’m serious, is there some material I missed? Some nuance in the language that didn’t completely translate?

I get it, I’m watching insecure overdramatic teenagers! I’m just wondering if I’m supposed to be on Noor’s side here. They could have portrayed this less OTT and more fitting to Robbe’s actual offenses.

Anyway Robbe and Noor have a screaming fight in the street and he says he can’t breathe anymore because of her. I can buy that even if it’s dramatic because he’s feeling trapped by her due to his sexuality. She walks off, Sander and Britt come outside. Britt goes after Noor and hugs her, Sander sings Space Oddity to signify the crash and burn of Robbe/Noor. He has on a Pink Floyd shirt so at least his musical taste is more varied than Bowie.

Clip 9 - Robbe and Sander by themselves

Robbe and Sander drink alone at the bar, they don’t think the girls are coming back. Sander texts Britt and then tells Robbe they’re going to do something else. He shows him Britt’s text saying that Noor needs some time alone. I mean. this drastically changes the context of them going off together … it’s not because they want to be together, necessarily (although they do) but it’s by default now.

So they leave.

Yeah, I do not love what they did with this scene. It’s short and to the point but I want to point out a few things.

First, because again, there’s no need to break up most of these clips into such short, choppy scenes just because 15 or 20 minutes have passed in-universe. It might be exciting if you happen to be watching and following at the exact time these are being posted, but it also messed with the flow of the scenes and the build of emotions. Imagine if we cut off after Isak and Even left Emma and Sonja and then 10 minutes later we got them riding around on a bike. We’d missed that beautiful transition from the silent, empty room to Isak on the bike and then Head Over Heels kicking in. That’s one of my favorite moments in season 3 and it’s because of that transition. It’s because I was sitting there watching this uncomfortable scene and wishing Isak and Even could be alone and then they got to be alone and my stomach swooped! If you break up moments like those, there’s just not as much build. (Or imagine - horror of horrors - an O Helga Natt where Isak gets the text from Even and it cuts off after he runs out of the church and then resumes when he arrives at the school, so we don’t see his journey. You lose so much.)

Second, there is a curious lack of romantic/sexual tension in this scene. It’s there on Sander’s end, I think, or at least you can read it there due to his focus on Robbe and even some of his body language. Robbe, on the other hand, seems more upset that his girlfriend who he doesn’t even feel genuine attraction to has walked out on him rather than the fact that he is sitting next to the boy he’s crushing on, alone together, right before they share their first kiss later that evening. And it just makes me want to know why.

I don’t blame Robbe’s actor at all, because it’s the director’s job to tell him how to play the scene. But I rewatched this scene trying to be generous, and there is not a single shred of attraction or tension from Robbe toward Sander. He checks the cafe door when it opens, he asks Sander to text Britt, and when Sander suggests they leave, Robbe’s first instinct is to ask what if Noor comes back. He sits there moping into his beer the whole time. He doesn’t sneak looks at Sander. He doesn’t try to talk to Sander about anything except Noor and Britt. No banter, no discussion that’s focused on them, Robbe-and-Sander, you know, the main couple of this season (supposedly). It doesn’t even feel like he’s consciously trying not to look or interact with Sander because of the romantic tension. No, it genuinely feels like Robbe’s #1 thought right now is Noor. Does that make sense to you? It makes sense for him to be a little out of sorts due to the fight, but does it make sense that Robbe seems to have no perceptible reaction to being alone with the guy he likes? Does it make sense that they didn’t take this chance to throw in some romantic and sexual tension in order to pave the way for the kiss that is going to happen very shortly? Gotta say that I think this scene exemplifies my earlier complaints about how Noor was so prevalent early in the season and how Robbe/Noor was built up. Because once again, Robbe/Noor has taken precedence over the undeveloped Robbe/Sander pairing.

Finally, as I said above, the situation makes it so that Robbe and Sander are on their own by default, not by choice. Combined with the bizarre lack of tension, that makes this scene fall totally flat. There’s no sense that these two really really want to be alone together. There’s no joy in them running off together. Robbe actually seems reluctant to go off with Sander. And not even because he’s fearful of what might happen, ooooo things might get a little gayer than I can handle right now, but like he’d rather sit here and drink and think about his girlfriend.

It’s like they were concerned that Isak and Even were too mean to Emma and Sonja so they decided Robbe and Sander would only be alone because it was the girls’ decision to leave them, not the other way around. We even get that text from Britt so we know that Noor totes isn’t coming back and it’s OK for them to leave. I have no idea what their actual motivation was to construct the scenario this way, though. I would love to know. (The answer would probably annoy me so I’m better off not knowing.)

It’s little stuff like this that makes me want to sit down the writers/directors/whoever’s behind wtFOCK and have them watch scenes from Skam S3 and write an essay on the construction and execution of clips. Do some homework about timing, tension, narrative structure, and everything else that makes S3 work.

Clip 10 - Smooch time

It’s 21:21 so you know what’s happening. Also, bullshit! Why is this happening so fast. You haven’t earned this!!!!

Sander buys them booze. The Sander actor is very good, honestly. I like his screen presence. It is a testament to his abilities that this relationship is working for me at all, because it sure ain’t the writing. (Robbe’s actor is doing well, too, but the writing is dragging him down since he’s present for all this nonsense.)

This scene of Sander and Robbe drinking and riding bikes is genuinely good on its own and they have strong chemistry when they’re allowed to show it. They have easy banter and interaction, there’s a callback to the booking.com reference from when they met. Really, this part makes me sad, because I can see the potential here! If the writing was GOOD, if the story had a legit direction, if it was just better storytelling all around … this season could have been wonderful, they had the right guys to do Isak and Even’s story justice. Instead it’s like this one terrific moment in a sea of wtFOCK.

If they go in the pool I will roll my eyes. C’mon, guys, you DO NOT HAVE THE SYMBOLISM to do this scene. It had a meaning in Skam, in most of the remakes it’s just an arbitrary location.

Yep, it’s a pool.

Sander takes off all his clothes so he jumps in bare-assed, and Robbe laughs. Sander yells at Robbe to get in the pool so Robbe does a fucking striptease while Sander watches, more or less, and he’s about to get in the pool in his underwear, but Sander is like “all the way or no way” so Robbe takes off his underwear after a brief moment of hesitation and jumps in. So they’re naked in the pool. Cool cool cool.

Seeeeee, on the one hand this COULD be a moment of liberation, I could see it, taking off the clothes and jumping in as a representation of abandoning the stale hetero life or w/e. But I don’t think wtFOCK has built anything resembling a clear arc for Robbe, to the point where this act means anything, really. (Can you imagine Isak doing this in episode 4? I don’t know if it fits his character at that point, but I could at least be like, OK, this is part of his ~rebirth and I think we’ve built him up enough that this moment of liberation feels like a culmination of something.) I’m also not totally sold on the way they presented this, like we’ve got a closeted gay kid alone with his crush and the crush takes his all his clothes off and then Robbe takes all his clothes off with only the barest reluctance (but he’s not like … distressed or worried, just kinda like “aw, man!”) For some closeted gay kids? Sure, guess I could see it! But in the context of “this kid is struggling with his sexuality and he’s alone with the boy he likes and he’s supposed to be going through Some Shit”? Why doesn’t this have a bigger reaction in Robbe? Since they are drunk and not necessarily overthinking things in the moment, however, I will let this slide. Cynically I think this is mostly about trying to make wtFOCK Sexxxxy. I’m not a prude and I don’t have an objection in theory to a teenage couple skinny dipping together, but wtFOCK has a trend of taking a thing that happened in OG and going “How can we do this but more?” and these remakes know Evak is the big sell in fandom, so. They’re making it spicier. (EDIT from the future: Jumping ahead to later content on wtFOCK ... they very much are trying to make it Sexxxxy.)

Also, these guys just haven’t had a lot of buildup yet! And I can see like … rewriting this scene so the first kiss isn’t necessarily some epic release of a simmering tension and growing love, but more of a tentative, pivotal moment with a gay kid kissing a boy for the first time, and having the relationship grow from there. But wtFOCK isn’t doing that, it’s trying to do the Evak thing with the epic romance, and they haven’t earned it.

They go underwater for the breath-holding contest, Sander tries to kiss Robbe (Robbe’s eyes are pointedly closed so this feels like some unnecessary POV breakage) and Robbe shoves him back. He’s still in a good mood, though. They go back underwater and Robbe kisses Sander. Yay, I guess.

Lol, I don’t actually want to sound like a bitter asshole. The song choice is lovely! The cinematography is pretty good! And like I said, they have nice chemistry. It’s just that the storytelling has been so messy up to this point that I can’t get too invested. The very first clip I saw in real time for Skam season 3 was the pool scene - I had just discovered the show a few days prior, and I kept watching the clips on repeat. I could not get enough of this story. I really really needed those guys to kiss. Yeah, I recognize that at the time the story was brand new and this wasn’t the fourth iteration of the same pool scene and the sixth first kiss for this couple, and you really can’t recreate that feeling of not knowing what comes next in a remake like this. Still, I think that if the writing had just been better, I could have been happy and invested in this moment.

I also think that the pool scene in particularly has a tendency to get written in kind of a rote way in the remakes. Some of them have put their own spin on it - I had plenty of criticisms of Skam France’s S3 but I did enjoy their first kiss and I praised that they made up their own symbolism - but some of them have gotten so close to the original, the exact same banter, the interruption at the end, and it doesn’t feel natural for those versions of the characters. I’m not sure if the remake showrunners think that the original scene is something the fans want to see or if they’re being lazy or if they think the OG is just that good (which it is, lol). I don’t think any remake has been that faithful with their O Helga Natt clips, by comparison.

Anyway they get caught, yadda yadda.

Clip 11 - Morning after the pool smooch

Robbe gets up and sees Zoë looking at Senne, seemingly hungover, on the couch. She makes coffee to spite him since the coffeemaker is loud.

Zoë asks Robbe about last night and says Noor was at the door. Robbe doesn’t tell her what really happened. Apparently Noor looked like she felt bad. I don’t think I can handle more Robbe/Noor, guys. I appreciate that OG didn’t drag out Isak’s thing with Emma once he kissed Even, but I’m not confident this won’t happen here.

Zoë asks if he’s all right. Man, the most effective relationship this season is probably Zoë and Robbe? Which is fine! But like … boy squad ain’t great, Sander and Robbe aren’t well developed, they fucked up Yasmina and Robbe already, Milan and Robbe are way behind schedule…

What if the reveal were that Sander were in Robbe’s bed?

It’s not. Instead, Sander texts him as a cover of Space Oddity plays. Robbe has angst and blocks Sander on WhatsApp. Ohhhh my. Another thing I appreciated about OG? That Isak was all in after he kissed Even, and that the angst came from different places besides the typical gay coming out storyline of “kissed a boy, regretted it, went back in the closet temporarily.” Not that it’s unrealistic, just that it’s done so much.

I think we’re supposed to take away that Zoë saying Noor was there looking sad made Robbe reconsider what happened with Sander? Or just general internalized homophobia. I don’t think the latter is totally out of Robbe’s characterization based on what we’ve seen so far, although I wish there was clearer writing so it felt more like “Robbe has internalized homophobia that made him block Sander” and less like “????? internalized homophobia I guess.” Again, I’ll letting this slide because I can also rationalize it as him being a little drunk last night, and now that he’s sober he regrets his choice, even if I don’t think this is a great choice at this stage in the season.

Clip 12 - The heaviest of sighs

The subs helpfully gave a trigger warning for homophobic slurs so I knew this was going to be “good.”

Robbe is listening to music as he goes home. Sander comes up to him, smiling, wanting to know why Robbe blocked him. Robbe says to leave him alone, that Sander got him drunk and took advantage of him.

L M A O welp, this would soooo kill this ship for me if I were invested.

FIND SOMEONE ELSE, SANDER, YOU DESERVE BETTER

Oh, so Robbe also shoved him and called him a dirty f****t! What a great romance!

No, really - this is the EXACT THING I was so glad that Evak DID NOT DO. I’m not saying their romance has to be free of flaws, that there can never be fuckups, that Isak can’t ever hurt Even and vice versa. But this is such a common and ugly trope in gay media.

Robbe goes inside and slams his door, Milan asks what’s wrong, Robbe tells him to leave him alone. We get Milan’s POV and not Robbe’s at the end.

Anyway lmao. wtFOCK indeed.

Did you enjoy the cuddle scene in Skam, where a same-sex couple got to be tender and sweet and open with each other for almost seven minutes? A clip that felt refreshing and even revolutionary for its normalization of gay intimacy? Hahahaha, fuck you.

Okay, seriously though. It’s not a problem that we didn’t have the cuddle scene immediately after the pool scene. It’s not a problem that they want to change up this storyline and make it their own - though again I would ask the creative powers at wtFOCK why they’re making these particular choices. It’s not a problem if Robbe and Sander’s relationship has some extra bumps along the way to their happy ending.

WHAT EVEN PROMPTED THIS CHANGE IN ROBBE, like I get the answer is “internalized homophobia” but Robbe was BUCK NAKED WITH SANDER IN THE POOL so like. Can we please get SOME context for why he suddenly had a freakout? Can we please get some narrative structure with cause and effect? Can we get a fucking reason that Robbe went from 0 to 100? Because if it was just the blocking Sander on WhatsApp, that’s one thing, but accusing him of sexual assault and calling him slurs is so vastly beyond that. If we’re supposed to take away that Robbe feels bad about Noor, that still doesn’t explain the ugliness of his reaction, rather than just telling Sander that he has a girlfriend and it was a mistake or whatever.

I’m going to add that I understand that Robbe went through some additional homophobic shit from his friends in previous seasons - I remember Moyo saying crappy things to him in S1, and I watched a S2 scene where the same thing happens. So I can understand if Robbe’s internalized homophobia is very strong. But they’ve also cut out so much stuff in this season that added to Isak’s internalized homophobia (no mom’s religion making him anxious, no gay test, no gay generalizations from Emma...) If they want to rely on internalized homophobia from previous seasons, then we really need a reminder in this season, such as his friends making homophobic jokes, which I do not recall hearing so far. And they need to show what happened between the kiss to provoke such a homophobic reaction.

After Sander said that thing about not knowing if anyone would ever love him … why did they do this? I love me some pain in storytelling but this isn’t just angst, this is needlessly cruel.

There is, believe it or not, a middle ground between “conflictless fluff” and “cruel homophobia and assault allegations” where you can have some tension, even have Robbe have a freakout, without bringing in this kind of material. Robbe could have told Sander to stay away without accusing him of assault or calling him slurs. He could have said he wasn’t gay or that it was a mistake or even “I was drunk” without following it up with “and you took advantage of me.” All of these options might have stung for Sander and for any viewers who were hoping for morning-after cuddles, but they also create conflict without pushing it over the edge into OTT cruelty.

HOW I WOULD REWRITE THIS EPISODE:

Ahahahaha

So far this season is like a disconnected set of scenes from Skam S3 with bonus filler scenes and unnecessary clips about non-Robbe things. It’s getting hard to think about rewrites because the point, if you will, so often so unclear. It’s also hard because this episode squeezed in so many OG scenes that were missing from earlier in the season that it’s like, well, shouldn’t we have had this a few episodes ago? Should we just leave them out now?

Okay. Start by getting rid of the first clip in this episode that’s mostly about Zoë/Senne, bump up the Milan clip. We start with Robbe looking at pics of Sander on IG, Milan comes in and asks if there was any romance on the trip, then they get into the Grindr talk, etc. The Grindr talk makes more sense before Robbe almost kisses Sander, but like. We can’t do anything about that now. What might be better is if the whole “how do you know if a guy is gay?” thing takes a swerve into not just Robbe trying to figure out Sander, but to something uncomfortably close to Robbe’s own behavior (like IDK, referencing body language and how a guy will lean in closer, like Robbe did with Sander) and then Robbe gets cranky because he’s worried he’s too obviously gay to other people. After Milan leaves, he starts looking up stuff like “how to act straight” or “how not to seem gay” or whatever. That leads us into the next clip...

... the dance chicks scene. Now we’ve seen plenty of Robbe being disinterested in girls already, so this time we’re going to show him trying to be interested in girls instead. Like he’s watching his friends’ annoying horny reactions and he’s clearly trying to imitate them and join in, but we can see that he’s awkward and not totally feeling it. But he’s trying. Then after the performance, Robbe makes the comment about the dance instructor being so gay.

There is a problem, IMO, in that Robbe’s friend group has been shown to be more homophobic than the average boy squad (as seen in S1 and S2). And frankly I don’t really believe yet Jens is the type to shut down a homophobic comment. Like in S2 Moyo and Robbe straight up start calling each other f*gs and Jens is like chill, no one here is a f*g, but if there were, you should date each other. That’s his idea of intervention. So I’m not sure how to handle that.

I don’t love this idea, because I hate what they’re done with Moyo in particular, making him pointedly more homophobic (to be discussed in a future reaction) but Moyo and Aaron could perhaps laugh at Robbe’s comment and start riffing off it, while Robbe is sitting there pretending to laugh but looking increasingly uncomfortable, and Jens notices something is off with Robbe, and he tells the guys to knock it off, the guy is gay, so what? Big deal. Then aside from the other guys, he asks Robbe if something is wrong, and Robbe snaps at him or attributes it to family problems again.

I was going to also say that the setting for this clip doesn’t really allow for Sander to swoop in, like Even did to return the snapback, but actually maybe it could? Noor could have invited Britt and Sander to watch the show, right? So maybe when Robbe makes this gay joke and his friends are laughing, Sander comes up while Britt is talking to Noor and is like, hey guys, what’s up? Robbe’s friends are just like, oh nothing, did you see how gay that guy was? Then Sander is like, sorry, what’s the problem with being gay? He tells them off a little. Meanwhile Robbe is standing there awkward as fuck, not looking Sander in the eyes, while Sander is looking at him for backup, but Robbe just makes an excuse to bolt. Maybe he walks past Noor without saying anything, so she looks confused.

Now onto Robbe and Yasmina. Man, I truly hate saying this. But: If you are not going to incorporate other religious themes into this season, then you don’t need to redo the Isak-Sana friendship. Again! I don’t like suggesting this! But what actually is Robbe and Yasmina’s relationship bringing to this season when it’s portrayed like this?

They left out the weed blackmail, which is really just a plot device in OG, but it’s a plot device that sets up Sana and Isak’s thread. It also gets Isak to kosegruppa to meet Even, something which is irrelevant here.

Sana’s main tie to S3 is Isak’s mom. Isak’s mom is religious, that makes him anxious, and it’s a hurdle to coming out to her. Robbe’s mom is not religious, Robbe’s internalized homophobia doesn’t seem to have anything to do with religion specifically other than this one scene with him and Yasmina. It’s just a disconnected tangent. What’s more, what is Yasmina’s eventual advice going to do for him? Sana’s advice led Isak to come out to his mom.

I really like Yasmina. If there’s another way that her presence is relevant to the themes of this season, by all means let’s find it and include her. As it is, either make it that Robbe’s mom is religious and include the Robbe-Yasmina subplot, or don’t and leave it out.

I would love to see in-depth and meaningful friendships develop among all the characters in the Skam squads, just because I love all those kids. Jonas and Vilde? Even and girl Chris? Eva and Mahdi? I don’t care how random, let’s have them all! But there is a finite amount of time per season, and we can’t extend time for all possible relationships - just the ones that are most relevant to the story we are trying to tell.

I mentioned above a fix for the Bowie playlist clip that makes it have a little more sense to me. If you include Sander in the dance chicks clip like I said, you could have Robbe thinking about Sander again and wondering if he’s into men since he called out the boys’ homophobia. That’s how he ends up on Grindr. Then Sander sends him the Bowie playlist, Robbe listens, Sander calls and they talk, Robbe apologizes for bolting out of there the other day. Sander invites him to the cafe later, Robbe’s all :D until he realizes Britt is there and is coming too, then he’s :(

He’s late to meet Noor and Noor is upset, but not like ... screaming and shoving at him. She’s more snippy and passive-aggressive, she walks off. She says she’s upset because he ditched the dance performance without talking to her, and then he’s late to meet her, it seems like he just doesn’t care that much. They have a fight but it’s like a normal fight and not The End of the World. Just tone down Noor’s OTT anger and make it more natural.

I don’t have a preference in this version whether Noor and Britt leave the cafe and Sander and Robbe know they’re not coming back, or whether Noor and Britt just go to get some air and cry it out and Sander is like fuck it, let’s leave. The important thing for me is that Robbe sits there with Sander, painfully aware that they’re alone, and there’s lots of tension and awkwardness and his brain is clearly hyper-focused on the proximity of Sander’s knee to his own. They banter and flirt and then when Sander suggests they leave, Robbe acts like he wants to go.

Don’t do a pool scene for the first kiss. Give a shit, make it your own. Except IMO they have done so little to establish this relationship in terms of larger themes or symbolism that they have nothing to choose from.

Man, what if THIS episode was about going to the seaside, after they had been talking for several episodes, and they kissed in the sea when they were alone? That would be at least somewhat plausible? A take on the pool scene/underwater kiss that wasn’t the exact same.

You could do something related to graffiti, perhaps? Instead of breaking into a pool, they break into the tagging place or wherever. Or something else related to Sander’s artwork, because I know that this comes up in their version of O Helga Natt.

I’m not wild about adding this blip in Robbe and Sander’s relationship after the kiss, because of how much ground we need to cover the rest of the season (it messes with the pacing yet again) and also just because I like that Skam didn’t do this expected route. However, if they wanted to make Robbe try to shut out Sander again: the strongest case for his internalized homophobia seems to be his friends. So have him meet up with them again the day after kissing Sander. His friends bring up Sander and how weird he was at the dance performance about the gay instructor, like it’s just a joke! He took their comments way too seriously! Is Sander gay or something? And maybe Robbe tries to defend Sander - no, he’s a cool guy, really - and then his friends are like, pffft, what, do you have a crush on him? Robbe denies and everybody chills out, but Robbe seems troubled. Maybe this is when Jens finally gets a fucking clue and realizes something’s up with Robbe, and in the future there’s a scene where he shuts down gay jokes. For now, though, we do see how Robbe would feel compelled to go back in the closet. Sander texts him and Robbe blocks him.

Now we come to the worst part. So. Take out Robbe calling Sander a sexual predator and a homophobic slur and pushing him, that’s for sure. If he must reject Sander, do it in another way. “I’m not gay.” “I was drunk.” “It was a mistake.” “I have a girlfriend.” It’s not actually hard to do this clip without adding this ugly taint to their relationship.

Since I’m trying to think of rewrites without just copying Skam, here is a radical change on how to include a post-kiss freakout from Robbe earlier on so the pacing isn’t as odd. In previous recaps, I suggested Sander should be introduced earlier as a mysterious stranger that Robbe is trying to find. Well, maybe we can rework that. Robbe and the mysterious stranger share a kiss in episode 1. They’re hiding from the police or security or something after getting busted at a party or while tagging or w/e, and they’re both a little drunk and high on adrenaline, they’re smiling and laughing because they actually got away, and it just ... happens. The mysterious stranger can initiate it, but Robbe tentatively reciprocates before running away. Robbe freaks out and it’s after this that he starts heavily pursuing Noor. Because, you see, he’s not gay, he was just drunk, and it was all that other guy’s fault. But at least he doesn’t have to see that random guy again, right? No one will ever know. Just like no one will ever know if late at night when he can’t sleep, he does a Google search to see if he’s gay if he liked kissing a boy or if he can’t get it up with his girlfriend. Or if he goes on Grindr to see if he can find the mystery dude. It’s a bust and Robbe gives up and settles into dating Noor. Except in episode 2, OH SHIT, he’s introduced to Sander again via Noor, and it’s awkward and fuck, Sander has a girlfriend. Well, that’s good, right? Totally not a bummer. Anyway, Robbe tries to avoid Sander or tiptoe around him but they end up spending time together because they’re stuck at the seaside under the same roof. Maybe they directly address the issue by Robbe saying he’s not gay and Sander being like “me neither” (which technically is not a lie, lmao) and brushing it off as a mistake, or maybe they both pretend that it never happened. Maybe Robbe is more aggressive about it at first and Sander is like, whoa dude, chill out, I’m not going to tell anyone. Still, they get to know each other, there’s heaps of sexual/romantic tension, and in episode 4 (or 5 or whenever) they kiss again and it’s Epic.

This arc is definitely not the same as Isak’s or Evak’s and I absolutely won’t claim that it’s in the same league as what Julie Andem did, but I can see a narrative arc like this making some sense. Better than trying to do Isak’s arc half-assed.

It occurs to me just like … how little we know about any of these characters in terms of subtext or something? No hints about Sander’s background, really? Let’s get some clues in there.

I think something I miss about Skam was how kind it was. How all the characters were at heart, good people capable of the most generous love and empathy. And maybe we’ll get there with these characters in the end, but overall, so many of these people just don’t feel like that! There’s so much more ugliness and cruelty involved in this story, and it doesn’t feel like it’s done with good intentions, like to show the audience how to handle these situations and to heal.

There’s this weird attitude of defense where cruelty, tragedy, and negative events are defended in the name of realism and there’s a backlash to the backlash, acting like the critics just want fluffy plotless hand-holding and cuddling, a conflict-free season, or a story where no one makes mistakes. And it’s like people forget that in Skam season 3, the story was FULL of angst! We know Evak get their happy ending but like … from episode 1 all through O Helga Natt, the story is packed with conflict. People hurt each other. Even in episode 10, not everything is perfect. It is very possible to do angst and conflict without this ugliness. Like … I have to assume people weren’t here for episodes 5 and 6 of Skam S3, or for the hotel scene, or episode 9 up to OHN, because I can assure you, there was no lack of angst. There was just a lack of shock value gratuitousness.

As always, let me know if I missed something due to cultural or linguistic context.

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