#like don’t get me started on overall just wanting a live version of that

[bandsanitizer]

it’s okay over and out you will always be famous to me

[melancholicmarionette]

[Oh shit I did something. I wrote Val and Sam as podcasters. Warning: this is fucking stupid. I literally had to just stop writing bc it made less and less sense as I went on. But I love writing dialogue and it’s silly and this is tumblr. here have a little snack my dudes]

Graveyard Girls Episode 12: Roasting Ember’s Beauty Guru Era at 1 AM

“Hello and welcome to Local Ghost Smash or Pass—”

“I will fucking kill you.”

Valerie had to admit that Sam Manson’s ability to keep a completely straight face while saying the most unhinged nonsense was probably one of the reasons their video podcast was so popular. Her own ability to refrain from actually killing her was the reason it still existed at all. How they’d made it to episode twelve, however, still remained at least partially an enigma.

Though it was overall Danny’s kindness that slowly made his trio of friends into a tenuous quartet, Valerie had slowly become accepted by all of them, once she finally came to terms with Danny’s secret. Sam was the last to come around, though by the time they were both seventeen their tension was less due to fighting over a boy and more due to the fact that they could agree on almost nothing.

Most of Graveyard Girls was the two girls arguing, originally spawned by a viral TikTok Tucker posted, in which Valerie—at Danny’s bizarre request—tried to explain The Bachelor franchise to them and Sam being convinced she was making some of it up. People had been interested, and with Amity Park being a niche-but-also-hot topic, a weekly podcast was born.

“Okay but,” Sam leaned back in a vintage-looking office chair, “if I returned as a ghost, would you sma—” Sam cut herself off with a grunt as she dodged a throw pillow.

The show was mostly the two competing to see who could get the other to essentially rage quit, and while Sam’s personality was surprisingly just as strange as those of her best friends, Valerie was competitive enough to be a worthy opponent.

“You might just be, like, the worst person,” Valerie said, expertly catching the throw pillow as it was hurled back at her. “We’re not even three minutes in and I’m so uncomfortable with the energy you’ve created.”

“So our very last episode is three minutes long and titled Valerie Quits, then?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Manson?” For a tense moment they stared each other down. “Say it one more time, see what happens.”

“So what is today’s topic, then?”

It was a challenge, to see if Valerie had forgotten it was her turn to start. She had.

They had the Box Ghost to thank for it, too.

“Okay, so—full disclosure,” she began, and she looked at her phone, “it is…1:16 in the morning. And both of us have been awake for like…”

“More hours than usually recommended,” Sam continued, “for reasons. We wanted to get this episode out on time so we are crunching.”

“And suffering.”

“And suffering quite a bit,” Sam concluded, nodding. “So my topic is that Ember McClain is trying to release eyeshadow palettes.”

“You cannot just drop that on me.”

“It was dropped on me,” Sam told her, “I’ve had to live with this. You don’t read the DMs for our official account so you didn’t see it and this poor lady, she has this indie cosmetics company and she slides into our DMs asking ‘is this person for real? I think she’s a ghost? She wants to collab.’”

“Collab…”

“And she sent me like…a mock up. I’m putting it in the google drive so get ready.”

Valerie picked her phone, opening their shared drive and—sure enough—seeing a digital version of a very Ember-esque palette, showcasing both dark and neon shades.

“She’s unhinged. But like…some of the shimmers on here aren’t terrible.”

“That’s the thing—I don’t like the bright blues and greens but there’s potential here. I could make a look out of it.”

“I’ve got conditions—if she wants to start the beauty guru era of her ‘career’ I need a full press release saying it’s not a complex murder plot,” Valerie said.

“I swear under penalty of perjury that I’m not imprisoning your parents in hamster wheels to power my sound system,” Sam affected an impression that would positively enrage the ghostly pop star as she spun around in her chair.

“My mad power-grab via subliminal mind control is so over, okay? That was the old me. Get to fucking swatching.” Valerie continued, snickering. “We kid, but this is actually peak influencer already.”

“We’re writing her YouTube apology for her,” Sam said, and she trained her eyes on the camera before continuing, “you cannot use this. I know you’re watching, I said your name once, and your Obsession is name-searching the universe. You have to do your own YouTube apology.”

“We should edit her name out before we upload.”

“We should.”

“…We’re not going to.”

“No, and a certain somebody’s gonna be on my ass about it. We should perhaps move on…”

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Now That We Don’t Talk | Jake Seresin blurb

Takes place during the TGM events

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x ex!reader (past romance), the dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, slight suggestive content, cheating, breakup | female!reader | wc: 2.2k

Note: I’m obsessed with 1989 TV and I’ll admit I was never a TS fan growing up but her OG 1989 I liked and I fuck with some songs Evermore, Reputation, Lover & Midnights. That being said, I’ve got the vault tracks on repeat and as a fellow directioner….Harry, baby, I thought you’d be safe.

————————

“You went to a party I heard from everybody. You part the crowd like the red sea, don’t even get me started. Did you get anxious though, on the way home? I’ll guess I’ll never ever know. Now that we don’t talk.”

His number had been deleted for well over three years when she stepped foot into the familiar bar she once called a second home. It’d been just as long since they’d seen each other, neither aware they’d be reunited in mere moments. When she did find his face among the crowd of their colleagues, she froze, contemplating running out the door and back to her car. Images of their last night flooded her mind. She could recall the constant pinging of her cell phone. Text messages from mutual friends informing her that he had been seen in an intimate embrace with another woman before disappearing from the party.

When he got home he avoided her like the plague. Anxiety consuming his entire being, making it clear the rumors were not rumors. They were true as the sun brightened the sky in the day and the moon reigned at night.

“Jake,” her whimper made him freeze, hand on the railing of the steps leading to their bedroom. No response, only a shake of his head before he continued his journey up. Leaving her to cry herself to sleep on the kitchen floor.

It was a domino effect in the days following. The trust was gone, Jake going out more and coming back late at night. Eventually after two weeks of prolonging the inevitable, Jake returned to an empty apartment. All reminisce of their five years together gone in the blink of an eye. She left a simple note, “Hope it was worth it.”

“You grew your hair long, you got new icons. And from the outside it looks like you’re tryin’ lives on. I miss the old ways. You didn’t have to change. But I guess I don’t have a say, Now that we don’t talk.

Natasha was the first to catch her eye in the Hard Deck, putting down her beer to run over and greet the pilot with a quick hug. Careful not to let anyone else see since they were in uniform. “I’m so happy to see you, Blue.”

She returned the smile, though hers was more tense, “It’s great to see you too, Phee. How’ve you been?” Nerves swarmed her belly with each passing minute. Despite being happy to see her old friend, she was unable to ignore the elephant in the room. The man she thought she’d marry and grow old with on a farm after retiring from the Navy with a bunch of kids and animals was several feet from her.

Overall, Jake had not changed much since their breakup. He was tanner for starters, definitely more toned. But he still had that aura of confidence sometimes confused with being cocky and golden blonde hair making him appear like a life-sized Ken doll. Throughout their relationship she noticed the stares they got from men and women alike. Woman looked at him with want and at her with envy. Men did the same but opposite.

It always surprised people when they got together. Complete opposites, they were known to have a rivalry during their time at Top Gun when they were on the path to becoming the Navy’s best fighter pilots. Jake loved to get under her skin, she loved to deflate his ego. Somewhere the dislike and tension turned into complete desire. And before they knew it they were sneaking into each other’s dorms and getting naughty in the locker room showers.

Her body reacted when he was looking at her. He’d spot her in a crowded room and instantly the woman felt heat along her veins. And she felt that fire right then when a sudden rush of jitters sweeped her figure.

Natasha sensed it too, noticing how the woman became tense. Peeking a glance to the side, a glare took over her once soft expression, “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No,” she objected with a slight wave, “I’m fine. A little surprised--although I should’ve expected he’d be a candidate as well given the context of this mission. It’s just we haven’t talked since….”

“I understand,” Nat assured, placing a hand on her back and leading her to the bar. “Let’s get you a drink first, then we’ll deal with him.”

“I call my mom, she said that it was for the best. Remind myself, the more I gave you, you’d want me less. I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost. And what it cost, now that we don’t talk.”

Her mothers words replayed over and over again with each step as the two approached the group. Jake was leaning over the pool, calculating his next shot when she moved straight past him causing him to lose focus and miss the ball he was aiming for completely.

“Blue!” Javy shouted, picking her up in a big hug and spinning them around. Not caring if superiors saw or the fact his best friend, who happens to be her ex, was right there. “I’ve missed you, Girl. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, Javy,” she couldn’t help but giggle. Of all the friends Jake had, Javy was the one who still reached out to her from time to time. Plus he ripped Jake a new one when he found out why they broke up. To this day he still gives him hell for it. “Let it be Top Gun, to bring us all under one roof.”

“Don’t you know it,” he clicked his beer with hers. The two taking a swig at the same time. “Have you met these clowns?” he motioned to the three to his left, “This is Payback, Fanboy, and Bob.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” they shook hands, greeting her with the same enthusiasm. When Bradley arrived she was once again scooped up into a hug, although this time she caught sight of Jake’s hardened expression. That shouldn’t have surprised her. Bradley Bradshaw was the one man Jake always butt heads with.

But the blonde quickly shook it off when he realized he got caught. He had no right to be jealous. It’d been three years since they broke up. And it was his fault nonetheless.

“Well I’ll be damn,” Bradley set her down gently, still embracing her. “If it isn’t Miss. Blues Clues.” A playful slap hit his chest when they parted.

“You know I hate that name, Bradshaw.”

The two caught up briefly, sitting on stools at the opposite end of the pool table. At one point Bradley made her laugh that the beer she’d been sipping on spilled off her mouth, causing him to giggle and hand her some napkins. While dabbing the liquid away, she locked eyes with Jake. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Pinning her to her seat with an unreadable gaze.

She nearly broke, feeling a speck of desire to talk to him, but then remembered her mothers words, “the more you gave him, the less he wanted you. While you may forgive him for all the hurt he brought you, you cannot subject yourself to that again. You deserve better.”

“What do you tell your friends, we, shared dinners, long weekends with? Truth is, I can’t pretend it’s platonic, it’s just ended so…”

She made a silent vow to herself, recalling the painful memories, the phone conversation with her mother along with bits and pieces friends have told her over the years of what Jake had relied on as the reason for their breakup. She would not fall again to his charm. There was no string that could be tied up in an attempt to fix what was cut.

Around them were friends they’d spend long weekends with. Javy and Nat were the most frequent, both having witnessed their relationship blossom and die. It made her wonder what others they hung out with knew. Whenever they’d see each other in passing the conversations always felt like they were walking on eggshells around her. And because she wanted to move on, she’d never ask what Jake told them.

For the sake of their jobs she’d be civil. The past was the past and it would stay there, but she’d make sure to remember it whenever those old feelings threatened to surface. From the looks of Jake throughout the night, he felt the same. It was obvious he wanted to find a moment alone with her to talk, but she refused to let that happen.

“I call my mom, she said to get it off my chest (off my chest). Remind myself the way you faded ‘til I left (until I left). I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost (what I lost). And what it cost, now that we don’t talk.”

When she arrived at her dorm that would be her home for the next three weeks, the first thing she did was retrieve the letter to herself she wrote all those years ago. It was crumbled, having almost thrown it away several times, but remembering the significance within the words inked on the lines, she always pulled it back.

Parts of the paper were withered. A result from the teardrops that had fallen when she took to her desk after the phone call with her mother to write down everything weighed on her chest. Pouring her heart and soul into the paper. It wasn’t much, only taking up the front of the page, but it was enough to get the message across.

Her past self coming to remind her of those fleeting last months. Where Jake slowly became the ghost of the man she’d once loved. The constant worry and anxiety from hours of radio silence. Dinners that felt like an awkward first date. Not inviting her out with his friends anymore. HIs lingering eyes on women who weren’t her. Excusing it with bullshit remarks to make her think she was being dramatic. Finally, the party that sealed the deal.

To imagine what they would be if she gave him another chance would be an insult to herself. Instead, she thought about all she gained.

“I don’t have to pretend I like acid rock. Or that I’d like to be on a mega yacht. With important men who think important thoughts. Guess maybe I am better off, now that we don’t talk.”

After the breakup, she realized how much she hid herself from the world. There were things she pretended to like in order to please him. Like watching college football every weekend, entertaining mostly his friends and leaving her to sit on the couch with a book in hand only to not be able to concentrate with the loud ruckus they’d cause.

Or having to refrain from the things that made her happy. Singing at the top of her lungs in the car while her favorite songs played for the first time in years felt liberating. Not having to be careful on what she spent her money on now that she didn’t have to save more for rent because Jake started to blow his on going to the bar during the last several months of their relationship.

The worst was having to put on a facade in front of Jake’s superiors. Though stationed at the same base they were part of different squadrons. During the banquets and balls, Jake tended to make comments on what dresses she should wear and how to act when they arrived. He was always the kiss ass type who wanted to get promoted faster than his peers. Even though she praised him constantly, Jake was never satisfied unless one of his bosses complimented him. If she were honest to herself, she hated attending the events. Despite being in the Navy herself. Unless they were mandatory she’d find an excuse to not go. Being around men with egos as tall as the empire state building who only talked in statistics and status was draining.

“And the only way back to my dignity. Was to turn into a shrouded mystery. Just like I had been when you were chasing me.”

For the last three years, the way she carried herself changed. She had to for the sake of not letting her heart rot away. Taking back the self-respect she’d lost, after thinking for so long it was her fault Jake had betrayed her. That she wasn’t enough.

She was more than enough.

He was the one who chose to cheat. He was the one who didn’t try to defend himself or fight for what they had. He let himself go. He let her go.

So, after a good month of wallowing in self-pity and despair, she lifted herself up with poise and elegance. Remembering who she was before him. The woman who carried herself with confidence, never allowing anyone to tear her down. Who fought hard to build her career to what it was, after so many doubting her abilities.

The woman he chased after. Who at the core was strong, daring, resilient.

Sure, Jake taught her a lot. About herself, about what she wanted in a relationship. About love. She’ll never forget what they had.

She lost him, but along the way she found herself. And to her, that was everything.

“Guess this is how it has to be, now that we don’t talk.”

……..

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

[the-power-of-stuff]

The Live-Action Sukka Manifesto that I Just Couldn't Keep in My Head

So I've been marinating in my live-action Sukka thoughts for the past three days, and when someone sent me an anon asking if I had any thoughts about the changes, at first I went, "DO I EVER?!" and proceeded to dump my entire brain on the page.

But then I worried maybe the anon wouldn't want to see my entire brain and figured I'd make my own post with my Many, Many Thoughts, and reel it in a bit when I answer the ask. And then link here if they're interested in the dissertation.

I'll put all the excessive details and spoilery stuff under a cut, but I'll start by saying, I didn't hate it! And I was afraid that I would.

There were things that I was bummed or had mixed feelings about, but there was also a lot that I genuinely enjoyed. All the Sukka interactions were cute and still had some decent character development, and I had fun with the episode overall (I've watched it thrice mind you, and definitely have not given the rest of the series that kind of attention). And I didn't necessarily dislike the differences from the original; I think I've just taken more of a "that was an interesting interpretation" approach.

But I better start that cut now, because I'm about to go on and on about this. I'd love to know what others think, though!! Even if the opinions aren't the same as mine! Please feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me an ask. If nothing else, I'm excited that the LA has gotten people talking about ATLA again.

So, I want to start with Suki’s characterization, which overall I found to be delightful, even if it was a bit of a watered-down version of her animated self.

In the original show, Suki is confident, sassy, and doesn’t take shit from anybody. She’s proud to the point of almost being arrogant, and even a little mean. What we get in the LA is someone who’s still confident in terms of her status and her skills, and still proud of her heritage and her role in her community, but with significantly less sass. And while LA Suki still seems like someone who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, we don’t actually see LA Suki deal with that much shit from anyone (because Sokka isn’t really giving her any). 

There is one moment in the show where her interaction with Sokka is a little contentious, which is when he tries to relate to her as a fellow guardian of his people. I think Suki’s question to Sokka about how is he protecting his village if he’s not there is meant to be a challenge to his swagger. However, the line is delivered with a softness that makes it seem as though Suki is, at least in part, genuinely curious. (This curiosity makes even more sense when we consider the fact that Suki’s eventually going to leave Kyoshi Island so she and her Warriors can take part in the war effort, and that she will have to contend with the question of “how do you do that without abandoning your people?” when coming to that decision. The LA lays a lot more of this groundwork than the animated show did: Suki outwardly expressing her desire to see the world, her mother’s secretive looks every time Suki gazes longingly at Sokka the possibilities…)

Compare these two moments, for example. These are both scenes where Suki expresses disbelief at Sokka's claims about his warrior-hood. But in the LA, Suki speaks rather quietly and mildly, in contrast to the brash sarcasm of her animated counterpart. LA Suki is also tilting her head down and away, looking at Sokka indirectly. OG Suki is leaning in close, getting in his face, smirking derisively with her hands on her hips.  

I think there’s something to be said about the LA in general smoothing away certain personality traits that could be seen as negatives but that are actually strengths that are so narratively well-developed they occasionally show up as flaws (for instance, Katara’s fury, or lack thereof). Animated Suki is prideful and stubborn; she berates Sokka until he gives her sad puppy-dog eyes and has zero hesitation about making an example of him in front of her whole class. It’s a little ruthless, but these traits are also 1) what gets through Sokka’s thick skull (he, too, is prideful and stubborn), and 2) what makes her such a dedicated ambassador of Kyoshi and such a strong leader of the island’s Warriors at such a young age. I feel like the LA writers were afraid of making any of the protagonists seem too abrasive—everyone in the LA has had their edges sanded down, including Zuko, including Aang—and in general this tends to lead to less realistic representations of humanity and conflict, less satisfying character development arcs, and fewer opportunities for reflection and learning. 

That being said! I went into watching the LA with negative expectations about what we would see in terms of character development, and thus was pleasantly surprised. 

The LA removed the need for Suki to be as ruthlessly stubborn as she is in the animated show because LA Sokka’s skull is not so thick (and I'll get into that a bit more later). So what we get instead is a sheltered Suki with a helicopter mom who is so hilariously awkward that she has no idea how to interact with other humans. And, to be honest, I enjoyed this version of her so much that I even thought to myself, “I wish I’d thought of that!”

Suki is a straight-up weirdo in the LA and I love that for her. The way she puts Sokka in a chokehold and then looks at him after she sets him free like, “That was good flirting, yes? Would you like to be my boyfriend now?” And then her disappointment when Sokka walks away as if she’s thinking, “Why didn’t that go well, I thought boys loved getting put in chokeholds?” She is so precious, I just want to put her in my pocket. And this characterization might even be more broadly relatable than a super-confident Suki brimming with sass. Who among us hasn’t made a complete fool of ourselves in front of a crush by coming on way too strong and having no idea how to flirt? I mean…real. 

And because Sokka is also mostly just making a fool of himself trying to impress a pretty and talented peer (instead of covering up his insecurities by wrapping himself in misogyny) this leaves room for the two of them to be attracted to each other right off the bat and for their interactions to be more overtly romantic throughout the entire episode. Which, avid shipper that I am, I have to admit I have been gobbling up for the past three days straight. This episode was an IV drip of romantic tropes hooked straight to every Sukka shipper’s veins. 

Shy glances from across the room? Check.

Walking in on the other person half-naked? Check. (Y’all, Suki looks Sokka up and down for a FULL TWENTY SECONDS yes I timed it from the moment she appears in the background, yes you should count it to see how long that really is. Talk about awkward.) 

Tripping so they end up falling into each other’s arms? Check.

Wide-eyed shock that turns into surprise thirst after being pinned to the ground? Check.

Shooting each other satisfied smirks as they kick ass side-by-side? Check.

Jumping in front of literal fire for each other? Check and check!

Like, I could live off this for the rest of the year. 

But look, there’s a lot that I love about the way Sokka and Suki’s relationship is portrayed in this episode besides those romantically indulgent tension-creating moments, and it has to do with Suki’s admiration and validation of Sokka. 

Suki really looked at this boy with his mouth stuffed half-full of steamed bun and went, “Must have.”

With the removal of overt sexism from this episode (for better or worse), the story focused much more heavily on Sokka’s development as a leader. He still has that sort of posturing display of self-confidence that comes from inexperience and trying too hard to prove oneself (“Ferociously…deadly tiger whales…”), and while at first Suki seems put off by this and his attempts to liken himself to her (“I’m not just a warrior, I’m a Kyoshi warrior”) it doesn’t take her long to decide (*cough*after seeing him shirtless*cough*) that she doesn’t actually mind this behavior (and in fact maybe she kind of likes it because maybe it means he likes her and maybe it means she can show him how much she likes him by slicing the tops off all those melons with her fan). She seems genuinely interested in his boomerang and impressed that he hunts, and then later, she immediately takes interest in training him in the Kyoshi Warrior style. 

After they spar, she casually refers back to the fact that he’s his village’s protector, and this time, she does it without the disbelief and defensiveness. Because he’s finally stopped posturing. He opened himself up and gave himself over to Suki’s expertise, and in that way he proved that he has the will and desire—the heart—of a warrior. And Suki tells him so while touching him gently and gazing at him longingly in the soft golden glow of the late-afternoon sun. And as a die-hard Sokka stan, I love seeing him loved and appreciated like this. Adamantly. Ardently. The Sokka cheerleader in my head is going wild. “YEESSSS!! Our boy deserves this!!” Because we know that, in the animated show, he goes through a lot more struggle and self-doubt before he receives this kind of external validation. And while we also know that this makes for an incredibly satisfying growth arc, I gotta admit that it’s a fun bit of indulgence to watch Suki talk Sokka up directly to his face and then want to kiss him really bad. Y’know. As a treat.

That said, I'm very attached to and appreciative of the way their relationship is framed in the animated series. I love that their respect and affection for each other grows even after the disaster that is their first few interactions. In the LA, they are drawn to each other immediately, and the only barrier seems to be a bit of awkward stepping-in-it-ness. In the original, they have legitimate conflict, and they both have to give a little—Sokka becomes more humble, Suki becomes more tender—before they get to that point of potential romantic interest. And I think it says a lot about Sokka’s character and his desire to learn and grow that he is willing to humble himself in front of someone who, as far as he’s seen, has very little regard for him (slash has a good deal of animosity towards him). Giving himself over to Suki’s expertise costs him more in the animated show. But once he does, he and Suki learn and grow together. He shows Suki who he really is, shows her how dedicated and determined (and fun and a quick learner) he is, to the point that, by the end of the episode, she can allow herself to be vulnerable with him. And she does validate him in the original Kyoshi Warriors episode, just less directly than the LA. Her kiss on his cheek and “...but I’m a girl, too” is about forgiveness and acceptance and acknowledgement and respect, as much as or even more than it is about affection. There’s a little bit of romance, too, but it’s just little baby seeds of it, and it feels very natural to let those seeds germinate over time until we see Suki again later in the series. 

Which brings me to the live-action kiss. 

I’ll be honest, I was a little on the fence about the kiss. I want Sokka and Suki to kiss as much as possible in every conceivable universe. So there’s a part of me that was banging on the table and whistling with obscene joy. But the other part of me thought it was too much too soon. However, my hesitance pre-supposes some things about the second season (not least of which that there will be one), namely that it will handle the reunion with Suki and crossing the Serpent’s Pass anything like how it was done in the original. (Of course, one thing we now know for certain can't happen in a hypothetical LA season 2 is Suki pranking Sokka at the ferry station because he doesn't recognize her without her makeup. Do I love the expression on LA Sokka's face the first time he sees Suki's? Yes. Am I sad that this completely ruins their whole "You don't remember me? Maybe you'll remember this!" game? Also yes. But truthfully, I don't know if LA Suki would've been up to the prank, anyway. Not sassy enough. ;))

The Serpent’s Pass is one of my favorite episodes of all time, and that moment on the bluffs when Sokka and Suki are talking around Sokka’s loss, with the moon shining down on them all the while, and they almost kiss with the moon hanging between them in the background, and then Sokka pulls away without any other explanation besides, “I can’t”? That scene is so absurdly powerful and beautiful and an amazing moment of character development for them both, and I feel like it loses a lot of impact if they’ve already made out once. The fact that they kiss for the first time after that moonlit moment, when Sokka realizes that Suki doesn’t need protecting the way he thought she did, and in fact she was there to protect him, and he can finally just let go of this burden that he’s been carrying with him since Suki first mentioned she was joining them (slash since his dad put him in charge of an entire village at 13), and then and only then can he open his heart to what he feels for Suki, and in fact opens it so wide that he just cannot help but jam his mouth onto hers before she’s even finished talking…? I mean. C’mon. That’s poetry. But, again…loses impact if they’ve already had a first kiss.

But who knows what, if anything, they’ll actually do with that storyline. So for now, I’ll just enjoy my live-action Sukka kiss because, honestly, dream come true.    

Or almost a dream come true. Because there's a huge camelephant in the room that I haven't addressed yet, isn't there? The lack of Sokka in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform...

And I don’t think we can talk about the omission of Sokka’s Kyoshi Warrior uniform without talking about the omission of Sokka’s sexism. Because if Sokka isn’t sexist, then why do you have to put him in the dress and makeup of traditionally female warriors to make a point about how women are strong and capable, too? So here’s what I’ll say about that (and I know there’s a lot that people have said already, so I’ll try not to belabor the point.) I don’t think leaving out Sokka’s sexism was necessarily a detriment to his character arc. I do think, however, that leaving out Sokka’s sexism was a detriment to the message the show was trying to convey about sexism. 

Now, in the Northern Water Tribe episodes, the LA still gives us a message about fighting against the kind of systemic, institutionalized sexism that you might not be surprised to encounter within a very old-fashioned society or from a very old-fashioned gray-haired man. But what about the off-the-cuff, everyday kind of sexism that you might experience from an otherwise good person who is close to you? A person who loves you and would do anything for you but who gets carried away teasing you about “girly” things because of intrinsically-held biases that they’re not even that conscious of having? 

I think it’s important and meaningful for male and female audiences alike, and everyone in between, to see these different forms of sexism and misogyny—to see them, to recognize those behaviors in others and in ourselves, to be able to name them, and to have examples of fighting against them. We see the former kind—institutionalized, systemic—in Pakku. And we did see the latter kind—familiar, personal—in Sokka. And now that’s lost.

Not only that, but there’s the form of sexism that says boys aren’t allowed to do feminine things lest they relinquish their maleness. And in the animated show, we got to see Sokka combating this form of sexism, too. Not only does Suki show him that girls can be fierce warriors as well as boys, but he learns that wearing makeup and a dress does not make him any less of a young man.  

So, yes, I think the lack of Sokka in Kyoshi Warrior garb was a missed opportunity. And not just because Sokka looked really good in uniform and we all should have had the chance to see that, including and especially Suki. 

Alright, this is more than long enough, so I'll leave off with a moment from the LA that gave me great pleasure.

I needed this moment, y'all. And I was so afraid it wouldn't happen. I needed Sokka being protective, I needed him using his newfound Kyoshi Warrior skills to fight, and I needed him jumping in front of fire for the girl who'd taught him. If we couldn't have Sokka in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform, at least we had this.

[lurkingshan]

A Time Called You: A Great Reminder to Go Watch Someday or One Day 

This past weekend Netflix dropped a new kdrama called A Time Called You in its entirety, and I became particularly interested in watching it as soon as I realized what it was: the Korean remake of Someday or One Day I knew had been in the works for awhile. If you’re not familiar, Someday or One Day (SOOD) is a beloved 2019 Taiwanese drama that is widely considered to be among the best dramas the country has ever produced (there is also a 2022 film version of the story, but that’s less relevant to this post). Now, I love Korean dramas, and I know that countries remaking each other’s best shit is very common in the Asian media landscape, but I couldn’t help but feel protective of the original work and a bit resentful of the choice to adapt something that was so original and unique and specific and put that generic kdrama sheen on it. Taiwan has a small film industry, and this is one of its jewels. We didn’t need Korea’s take on it.

And having watched the adaptation in full now, I am feeling pretty justified in that initial feeling. Let me just say upfront: A Time Called You (ATCY) is a perfectly good drama with a solid cast and competent storytelling. Had I seen it absent the knowledge of what it was adapting, I probably would have liked it a lot. But I have already seen and loved Someday or One Day, so I feel compelled to break down why it is the better version of this tale, both for my fellow SOOD devotees who are wondering how this adaptation stacks up and for folks who have only seen the kdrama in the hopes that you’ll decide to watch the original. As usual, I did the most, so reader be advised that this is long (tagging @troubled-mind as promised and @smittenskitten because I saw you were looking for a comparison of the two dramas). TL; DR: if you liked ATCY, or have seen neither version and are wondering which to watch: go find Someday or One Day, because it’s an overall superior and more satisfying execution of the same story.

The Vibe

Let’s start here because it’s the most obvious and immediately striking thing as someone who has seen both versions. SOOD has a bit of a rough and unpolished feel, which makes it feel more grounded in reality (important when you are getting into fantasy elements like time travel but you still want the characters to feel like real people). We open our story in 1998 in a record shop with a young girl playing Last Dance by Wu Bai and China Blue, a 1996 mando pop rock ballad, and thus setting the tone—this will be a somewhat raw and bittersweet story about grief and hurt and longing that will invite us to wallow in our feelings. And that melancholic vibe stays throughout the drama, even in the explicitly happy scenes, because you are always aware that the joy you are seeing has already been lost. 

By contrast, ATCY feels… emotionally flat. Don’t get me wrong, it is a very faithful adaptation. The early episodes are practically a shot for shot remake of the original drama. But it’s too polished, too shiny. The filmmaking is bog standard kdrama fare; everything is soft focus and warmly lit and too beautiful and consequently nothing feels real. It feels right in line with the standard aesthetics of recent mainstream Korean dramas, and that choice undermines the emotional weight and grit of this story.

A great example of this can be seen in the way the two dramas handle the iconic scene where our female lead runs in the rain, looking back over her shoulder to smile in delight at the male lead before continuing on her way. This is a moment of realization for him about his feelings for her—one he will later immortalize in a painting that becomes part of the mystery of the past she is trying to unravel. In Someday or One Day, this scene takes place on a regular street, in the utterly mundane surroundings of their everyday lives as they walk home, and she runs down the middle of the road as puddles gather in the uneven pavement; in A Time Called Love, they are in a picturesque park for this scene, surrounded by green and encased within a grove of giant trees, and she runs right down the middle of a tree lane that looks like it came straight out of a fairytale. One story is very much about a love grounded in a reality we can recognize; the other is pure fantasy romance.

The Music 

I already mentioned the song that anchors the Taiwanese drama above. Last Dance is hugely important to the story, both thematically and as a plot device, and in its ability to set the mood and tone of the drama. 

The Korean remake similarly uses a real 1996 ballad as its main song and time travel mechanism: With My Tears by Seo Ji Won. And, uh, the vibe is a bit different. 

Discerning listeners might recognize this as one of the many classic love ballads performed by our favorite doctors by day, rock stars by night over on Hospital Playlist. It’s a perfectly fine song. But it sets quite a different tone for our story, doesn’t it? It also is meant to be a song that a teenage boy is hankering to listen to on cassette, and listen, I wasn’t living in Korea in 1996. I have no idea how culturally accurate that may be. I’m sure there were in fact baby Lee Ik Juns running around trying to get their hands on this cheesy love song. But the edgier sound of Last Dance definitely sounds more in line with something the teenage male lead would listen to and what the music is meant to convey. And frankly, since we hear this song about 30 times in the drama, it matters that Last Dance is just an objectively better song. 

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, because beyond the classic song each version chose to use as its centerpiece, there is also a stark difference in the quality and tone of each drama’s OSTs. Here is a compilation of the Someday or One Day tracks, including the utterly gorgeous main theme by Shi Shi. The music is hugely important in the Taiwanese drama and is used to set the mood as well as emphasize its themes, and the tracks feel specific to this story.

And here is a compilation of A Time Called You OSTs.

If you’re familiar with kdrama OSTs, you will recognize most of the artists on here, as well as some new covers of old songs. And again, the vibes are quite different. Whereas SOOD was very intentional and specific in its music choices, ATCY just sounds like every other kdrama. There is nothing on this tracklist that stands out or evokes the kind of feeling that the SOOD tracks do.

The Main Couple

The name and timeline situation in this show makes this section unnecessarily difficult, so let me just make a little reference sheet here: 

Someday or One Day

Alice Ke plays Yu Xuan (2019) and Yun Ru (1998)

Greg Hsu plays Quan Sheng (2019) and Zi Wei (1998)

A Time Called You

Jeon Yeo Been plays Jun Hee (2023) and Min Yu (1998)

Ahn Hyo Seop plays Yeun Jun (2023) and Si Heon (1998)

All of the actors here are seasoned and very good at their jobs, so I am not casting shade on any of them—they are executing their performances based on writing and directorial choices. But I cannot deny that the Taiwanese version of these characters are more compelling all around. In SOOD, the main characters have a real spark; despite the melancholic undertone of the story, there are moments of genuine joy and when they connect with each other, you feel why this bond is strong enough for them to find each other through time and despite all the trauma they endure. In ATCY, however, the characterizations are muted.

This is most evident in the difference between Quan Sheng/Zi Wei and Yeon Jun/Si Heon. Greg Hsu plays Zi Wei as magnetic, playful, mischievous, utterly lovable, and very intense about his feelings for his lady. He has a real joie de vivre about him that clearly brightens up Yu Xuan’s life considerably, and his devotion to her is not just shown, but deeply felt. Experiencing their memories, you understand immediately why Yu Xuan can’t move on from his death; he was the joyful, relaxed counterpoint to her more ambitious and serious personality. Si Heon, though? He is a nice dude and a generous partner and he is very good looking. But he doesn’t have the playfulness or the intensity that his Taiwanese counterpart does. His personality is just more moderate all around. One great example of this: upon discovering that he has traveled forward into the body of the person that would become Yu Xuan/Jun Hee’s boyfriend, Zi Wei (in Quan Sheng’s body now, are you still with me?) actively decides to find her, love her, and try to solve this time loop quagmire they are in; Si Heon (in Yeon Jun’s body) waits for a moment of fate to give him a sign, and only makes the decision to pursue Jun Hee after running into her by coincidence.

Similarly, Jun Hee is not quite as spunky and sassy as Yu Xuan and Min Yu is not as dark and awkward as Yun Ru; when Jun Hee travels to the past and takes up residence in Min Yu’s body, the differences between the two characters she is playing are not as evident. In SOOD, I could tell at a glance who is in Yun Ru’s body; in ATCY I need more context to be sure. Where Yun Ru had more of an edge, Min Yu simply reads very shy. It’s not as compelling. One scene that really stands out as an example of this: when Yun Ru is pretending to be Yu Xuan in 1998 and looks in the mirror to practice smiling, it looks downright creepy and sinister; when Min Yu is masquerading as Jun Hee and looks at herself in the mirror, she just looks awed and happy, if a bit awkward. It’s subtle, but it changes the way you feel about the characters. 

The difference in Jun Hee and Yeon Jun’s characterization also affects the couple chemistry, which is just not nearly as strong in ATCY. The characters are more muted and thus the expected sparks are more like smoldering embers. The relationship feels cozy and warm and nurturing, but it doesn’t feel vital. It doesn’t feel like the kind of relationship you would fight through time or break the rules of the universe to return to. I recall gasping or crying or laughing out loud throughout SOOD because I was constantly taken aback by Greg Hsu’s arresting presence and the chemistry he and Alice Ke generated was just emotionally riveting. When Yu Xuan told Zi Wei (as Quan Sheng) that they were officially together, that man literally jumped for joy and shouted out his love for her; Si Heon (as Yeon Jun) reacts to the same moment with a quiet smile and a hug. When Zi Wei saw Yu Xuan in Yun Ru’s body again in the finale, he knew instantly that it was her and the smile overtook his face as he reached for her; Si Heon initially called Min Ju’s name before getting closer and taking several beats to realize it was Jun Hee (ruining this iconic moment is perhaps this remake’s greatest sin against romance, my god). 

Everything between the couple in SOOD was just more, both in happiness and in despair. I liked Jun Hee and Si Heon, and Ahn Hyo Seop and Jeon Yeo Been are very competent actors whose performances I have loved in other dramas, but they didn’t achieve that level of chemistry here, the writing and directing choices worked against them, and I didn’t feel that same desperation for them to figure this out that I did with Yu Xuan and Zi Wei. 

The Story 

The Korean version is a very faithful adaptation overall (I haven’t mentioned Jun Jie and In Gyuk because his character and story is more consistent across the two shows), but does make some small tweaks to the story, some of which seem to be out of necessity due to a shorter run time (one episode and a couple hours total less than the Taiwanese original) and some just… because? The shorter amount of story time does lead to them having to cut corners on some aspects of the mythology and time travel lore, making it all a bit less clear for folks who don’t already understand what’s going on, and they put in a few nods to typical kdrama tropes like amusement park dates and hand of fate stuff that we really didn’t need—they are already trapped in a time loop together, we get it!

ATCY also messed with the timelines and ages for reasons I don’t really understand and that don’t really track. In SOOD, Zi Wei traveled forward from 2002 to Quan Sheng’s body in 2010, met Yu Xuan, and then died in 2018. In ATCY, Si Heon traveled forward from 2002 only to 2007 and did not die until 2022—but the relationship dynamics are all the same. It made sense for a young couple who had been together about 7 years and who were in their mid-20s to be having the kind of relationship problems they did—fighting about prioritizing careers and time abroad and whether it was time to get married. But a couple who has been together nearly 15 years? Who are in their mid-30s? They would have already been married probably and had a couple kids to boot. The choice to change the timeline like this had me scratching my head and accomplished nothing for the story. 

But neither of those things are the change to the story that is weighing on me most. That occurs in a very small and brief backstory for the real Yeon Jun, where the drama introduces an original character who has no counterpart in SOOD: Tae Ha. 

In SOOD, the real Quan Sheng is a closeted gay teenager who meets a tragic end: he confesses to his crush, gets brutally rejected, then gets bullied when the crush tells others about his sexuality, and ultimately decides to walk into the sea in an attempt to end his life, a choice that leaves his body in a coma until Zi Wei’s consciousness takes it over. In ATCY, this backstory changes and Rowoon is brought in for a brief but impactful cameo as Tae Ha, Yeon Jun’s cram school friend. We see that the two have mutual feelings for each other but are both struggling to confess. One day as they are driving together, they finally explicitly acknowledge their feelings, holding hands and smiling at one another—and then immediately get hit by a Truck of Doom (easily one of the most tired kdrama tropes), Tae Ha dying on impact and Yeon Jun ending up in a coma with Si Heon’s consciousness eventually taking over his body like in the original story. 

Now on first glance, you might be inclined to give the show some credit for including a new gay character and giving the original Yeon Jun a happier experience with his crush. Explicit gay representation? In a mainstream kdrama? Still very rare and a big deal if done right. But if you think for a moment longer you’ll realize we can’t give the show credit for this, because this is a textbook execution of the Bury Your Gays trope and the narrative punishment that befalls gay characters who act on their attraction. Essentially, what the Korean remake did here was reveal these two characters are gay, killed them both immediately after they decided to pursue a relationship with each other, and then had the het male lead character take over the body of this gay man and use it to enter into a relationship with a woman. Some aspects of this plot were present in the original tale, but this choice to add an additional gay character only to kill him and tie it to their moment of acknowledging their mutual attraction? Made it significantly worse. It was badly done and I will not applaud the drama for representation when they did it in such a cruel way. 

The Ending

SOOD ends on a hopeful but somewhat ambiguous note, with Yu Xuan in 2020 finding a way to go back and save Yun Ru (and Jun Jie by extension) and then breaking the time loop, sacrificing her relationship with Zi Wei in the process even as it breaks her heart (because the only way for them to meet and fall in love in 2010 was to stay in the loop). She sacrifices their romance, and all their memories together, because it’s the right thing to do—she inadvertently destroyed Yun Ru’s life with her time traveling, and she couldn’t live with that knowing there was a way to fix it. We are left with a broken time loop, original teen Zi Wei meeting child Yu Xuan again in 1998, and the hope that they will find a way to make their fates align again and be together without time travel complications. It’s just the right bittersweet touch to end the story on; their previous relationship was lost and their sacrifice was real, but there is hope for another version of a happy life together, someday.

By contrast, ATCY goes for a more explicit happy ending: Jun Hee makes the same choice to go back and save Min Ju, and to break the time loop and sacrifice her relationship with Si Heon, but in ATCY we then jump forward to 2011 to a happy epilogue to see Si Heon and Jun Hee meet as adults. And look, I love a happy ending! But what I said above about the sacrifice Yu Xuan and Zi Wei made in SOOD really resonating because of its bittersweet ending? That’s absent here, because ATCY decided they needed to put a bow on it and reassure us they would get back together. ATCY was just never willing to let us stay in the grief or commit to the darker and sadder aspects of this story, and as a result, the whole thing loses some of its impact.

[spacecravat]

Hey I love your takes on the new season and I wanted to ask what the differences are in Aziraphale and Crowley personalities or relationship overall in the book, radio, and TV show? Which one do you prefer the best? Do you like way the characters where adapted into the TV show?

I think the main difference is that the book versions feel a lot more settled than the TV show versions. Like don't get me wrong, they still have their issues, but TV show Aziraphale and Crowley are at any point in the midst of messy relationship drama that the book versions just do not have.

Book Aziraphale is more of a bitch and seems to believe a lot less in Heaven's goodness and all that. Book Crowley is an optimist and a nerd who spends a lot less time trying to escape because fundamentally he loves Earth and humans and cares what happens to them. Meanwhile the TV show gave them both anxiety.

They also both have a lot more hangups about their own personal goodness and evilness in the show. In the book they seem to have arrived at more of a contented middle ground before the story starts. In the book they're just some guys doing their jobs for distant governments that are both kind of shit, with "good" and "bad" labels being less relevant than protecting the world they love.

I think one exchange that's particularly representative of the difference is this one at the ex-convent after Crowley changes the paint guns to real guns (that still won't hurt anyone). The book:

“Oh, all right,” said Crowley wretchedly. “No one’s actually going to get killed. They’re all going to have miraculous escapes. It wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.” Aziraphale relaxed. “You know, Crowley,” he said, beaming, “I’ve always said that, deep down inside, you’re really quite a—” “All right, all right,” Crowley snapped. “Tell the whole blessed world, why don’t you?”

vs TV:

I'd say book and radio versions are fairly similar, as the radio drama was trying to be a much more faithful adaptation, and any differences are more down to what got cut for time.

I think a lot of the changes can be put down to what's more interesting to watch on screen vs read on a page: Crowley and Aziraphale coming to personal conclusions while going on for paragraphs of internal monologue is a bit less exciting to show in live action than dramatic arguments.

And personally I like all the versions! There are some things I like better in one version or the other (like the TV show eliminating a lot of the book's racism, or Crowley reviving the dove in the book, and I love the historical scenes the show added). And other things might be different but I like both.

I view them as similar but not identical stories, which can be enjoyed in parallel, all with building blocks that I like, just put together in slightly different shapes. They don't have to be the exact same characters for me to have a good time. In fact might be better for the differences. If I want the book, I can always reread the book, so it's fun to have things that are new and different in each adaptation.

[arvandus]

Touch Chapter 16 - A Night Out

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!AFAB!Reader

**18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI**

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: Soft!Dabi, Fem!AFAB!Reader with a fictional backstory, fanon version of past events (I started this before the canon stuff dropped), manga  spoilers, canon deviation, drug abuse/withdrawal (with inaccuracies since it’s outside of my experience and relies on research and imagination), violence, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, pining, slow burn, eventual emotionally charged SMUT,  all characters will be written with complexity (i.e., no  one-dimensional/hateful representations). *please pay attention to specific warning tags within each chapter!*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking. Lots of drinking (both Dabi and reader). Overall drug themes apply; bar scene/club scene (look, we get to have some FUN in the chapter, OK?? We deserve it!)

Chapter Songs: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys/All I Need by Radiohead

Part 1   Part 15

Chapter 16: A Night Out

You were in the hideout briefly. Dabi changed into his more preferred attire of his stitched jacket, matching pants, and boots. He was free of his mask and his sunglasses now, and you were grateful to finally be able to see his face again.  His blue eyes looked at you with mirth when he showed up at your bedroom door.  You handed him your pills and he downed them with water before crinkling the bottle and tossing it into your trash can.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Do you need me to touch up your scars first?” you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

The ‘yes’ hung on the edge of Dabi’s tongue, the desire for relief always present, but this time he swallowed it.  Wherever he was taking you, he didn’t want your sensory overload to be an issue.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “Uh-huh... you know, that word doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“It means that I’ve got it under control.”

You pursed your lips and looked down at your attire. It was the same one you’d been wearing earlier: jeans, a shirt, and a jacket.

“Should I change...?” you asked.

Dabi shrugged. “Do you wanna change?”

“Depends.  Where are you taking me?”

“Not sure yet.” Dabi looked you over, head to toe, his eyes leaving fire in their wake across your skin. “You look great.  Let’s get outta here.”

You were too flustered to argue, so you followed him down the stairs and out the door into the night air. A gentle mist of rain was falling down slowly, coating everything in a diamond dust of dew drops.

“We might get soaked tonight...” you commented.

“You worry too much,” Dabi replied as he put his arm over your shoulder again.

A smirk played at your lips. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Your hand came up to interlock your fingers with his comfortably. Right now, you didn’t want to dwell on what it meant; you just wanted to enjoy the contact that he was suddenly offering so freely.

“Then we’re perfect for each other,” he teased.

Your skin burned hot at his flirting and he glanced at you, taking in the surprised look on your face that you struggled to bury. He smirked.

“Let’s get some dinner first,” he continued. “What d’ya want?”

“What can we afford?”

Dabi flashed the fat wad of cash nestled in the inner coat pocket against his chest.  “Whatever we want. My treat.”

Your eyes bulged. “Dabi! Where did you get that??”

Dabi scoffed.  “Did ya think I was just checking out your cute ass while I was walking behind you all day?”

“I— What??”

“Gotta make a living somehow, sweetheart.  I’m an expert pickpocket, remember?”

You did remember. But right now, Dabi pickpocketing was the last thing on your mind. He was getting under your skin on purpose, and you were enjoying it.  It felt like old times, before things had gotten... complicated.

“Pick your poison, doll. What’re ya feelin’?”

“Hmmm... how about sushi?” you suggested.

Dabi grimaced.  “Uhhh, gotta confession. I hate fish.”

You laughed. “How can you be Japanese and hate fish? It’s like a cultural staple.”

Dabi wrinkled his nose. “It tastes... fishy. And slimy. And I hate the way it smells.”

You laughed again. “Okay, not sushi then.  How about ramen?”

“Didn’t we have that recently? Twice?”

“Yeah, because it’s delicious.  I could probably live off ramen, to be honest...” 

“Hm.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, smartass, what do you want to eat?”

“I know just the spot. We gotta hop on the bus, though.”

“Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, you stepped off the bus to see a small little restaurant.  Its entire front was a large window that was open to the street, with a counter and bar stools attached into the cement.  An animated neon sign of a ramen bowl danced on its low roofline.

“I thought you didn’t want ramen?” you asked confused.

“Surpriiise.” Dabi singsonged.  You began crossing the street together.  “The owner is a bit rough around the edges, and a total alcoholic. But his ramen is the best I’ve had.”

A canopy overhang allowed for protection from the drizzling as the two of you sat down at the counter.

“Oy,” said a gruff voice. You looked up to see an old man with what remained of his hair pulled back into a ponytail and tattoos up to his jaw line. “You again.”

“Long time no see.” Dabi replied.

The man nodded at you. “Who’s this?”

“A friend.”

Your heart sank in your chest at the label, and then you cursed yourself for being an idiot.  Of course you were friends.  All of this – helping you through your panic attack, letting you lean on him on the ride home, taking you out to get your mind off things... it was Dabi being a good friend.

A friend who held your hand.

A friend who put his arm around your shoulder.

A friend who almost kissed you the night before...

You refocused your attention when Dabi nudged you with his elbow.  “Huh??”

“What do you want?” Dabi repeated.

The old man waved his hand dismissively.  “Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing.”  Then he set down a bowl of edamame for you to share and immediately began preparing the food.

“Wait, what just happened?” you asked.

Dabi laughed.  “You took too long deciding so he decided for you.”

“Oh.”

“You want something to drink?”

You stared at the list of beverages.  “Beer. Sapporo?”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Oh, loosening up now, are we?” He put the order in, holding up two of his fingers.  A moment later, two tall, ice-cold beer cans were placed in front of you.

You took a sip, letting the carbonation and flavor play on your tongue.  You didn’t answer right away, unease swimming in your chest. You took a few more sips.

“Dabi...” you finally probed. He looked at you sideways as he drank.  “Why are you doing this?”

What is this to you?

Dabi set the can down and began to fiddle with it, his fingers wiping patterns into the condensation.

“Because I didn’t want to go back there either.  We were both stir-crazy in that place.  Figured it was time to stretch our legs a little.  Tonight should just be about having fun.”

“Well...” you smiled. “If that’s the case, you know what I want?”

Dabi looked at you attentively, his eyes trying to pry the answer before your lips could give it. “What?” he replied.

“I want to get drunk.”

Dabi let out a surprised laugh.

Your grin widened. “Like, stupid drunk.”

“Wasted?”

“Absolutely shitfaced.” You grinned into your beer as you drank more of it down, letting it wash over the knot you felt in your gut.

Dabi laughed again. “I think we can manage that.”  He took another swig of his beer.  “This’ll be fun...” he muttered.

You didn’t want to think about anything tonight. You didn’t want to worry.  And you didn’t want to rehash what had happened earlier during the day.  All you wanted was a break, a night to feel like a normal person, to be able to feel like you were a part of the world again.

So, you drank, and laughed, and ate.  Dabi was right. It was the best ramen you’d ever had.  Thirty minutes later, your stomach was now full and happy, and your veins hummed warmly with the first beer you drank.  Just as you finished your can, another took its place.

You stared at it. “What’s this?”

Dabi held up his new can in a toast.  “You said you wanted to get wasted.  Cheers.”

“Oh God...” you laughed. “But I’m so full...”

“Don’t worry, doll. We got all night.”

“Really?”

Dabi shrugged. “Not unless you got plans with someone else,” he teased.

You laughed. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about in that department.”

“Not even your dealer friend from earlier?”  Dabi prodded curiously.

“Yatsu??”

“You two even have nicknames for each other. How cute.” he commented dryly, his stiff grin never reaching his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Uh, nooo.... I mean, there’s history there, but... it’s long past.”

The shop owner refilled the small bowl of edamame.  Dabi grabbed one and skinned it with his teeth.

“Yeah?” he said, “I’d be curious to hear that story...”

You laughed. “Not much to it, really... Yatsumoto was interested but I wasn’t.”

“Really?” Dabi’s sarcasm dripped heavy. “An upstanding guy like that?”

“I wasn’t too interested in relationships back then.  Very single focused on my research at the time.  Besides,” — you took a swig of your drink and then leaned into Dabi, your voice dropping to a whisper —  “he’s not really my type.”

You picked up an edamame shell and ate the soybeans from it.

“Oh yeah?  What is your type then?”

‘Someone tall, dark, and handsome with the world’s biggest daddy issues.’

You thought it, but didn’t say it.

A grin started on Dabi’s lips, a mischievous glint in his half-lidded eyes.  “Maybe someone who’s in horrible need of chapstick?”

Shigaraki instantly came to your mind, and you laughed. You threw the empty edamame shell at Dabi.  “What?? No.”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Hmm, maybe someone with a wide variety of personalities...”

“You’re terrible.”

“Or maybe someone who knows magic tricks.”

“Oh my God, no. Compress is like a brother to me, that’s so weird.”

Instant elation filled Dabi’s veins, but he tamped it down, keeping his expression neutral.  Instead, he grabbed another edamame.  “Coulda fooled me; you two seem close.”

“That’s because he’s the one who recruited me into the League,” you replied.  “He saved my life a while back.”

Dabi’s amusement fell apart at this new piece of information.  His smirk was gone, his expression neutral.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Not long after I’d been kicked out of the university, my place got broken into.  I came home when the robbers were still there, shuffling through my things.” You shuddered at the memory.  “They saw me, I saw them, and I ran.  They chased me down the stairs and outside... It was Compress who stopped them, popping up out of nowhere. I probably would have been killed if he didn’t show up...”

Dabi’s mind rolled over the information, filing it next to all the other little facts he’d gathered about you.

“Do you know what they were after?” he asked.

A half smile curled your lip that didn’t reach your eyes.  “They weren’t going through my bathroom or bedroom looking for jewelry or digging through my bags for cash. One of them had my laptop, and the other was shuffling through papers.”

“They were after your research.”

You snapped finger guns at him.  “Bingo.”

Dabi took a long draw of his beer and you followed suit.  He stared into the can as he swirled its contents slowly.  “So how does your brother fit into all of this?”

You had begun to raise your beer can to your lips, but you hesitated, then lowered it back down to the counter.  “He was the reason for my research.  I wanted to help him, figure out how  to make it so that his quirk couldn’t hurt himself or anyone else ever again.  And I needed to prove that he wasn’t a bad person. That it was his quirk manifesting itself, forcing itself to be expressed.”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment.  “What was his quirk?”

You hesitated again, and Dabi began to have second thoughts about his questioning. Tonight was supposed to be about having fun, and at this moment, you weren’t smiling. The gentle misting began to transition into heavier drops, the sound drumming on the canopy above you.

Dabi opened his mouth to rescind his question, but you answered before he could.

“Others called it Mind Flay, but he called it Tabula Rasa.”

“Blank Slate,” Dabi hummed. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It wasn’t,” you replied. “He had the ability to make people literally lose their minds. Like, one moment they’d be themselves, and the next moment, they’d be a dumb, drooling mess. Like he wiped them clean, basically turning them into vegetables.”

Dabi fell silent as his mind ran through the ramifications of such a quirk.  “When did it manifest?”

You gave a sardonic laugh. “The same age it did for everyone else; at around 4 years old.”

Dabi let out a low whistle. Kids were small, emotional creatures. A child having that level of power...

Dabi wondered who the first victim was.  A family member? A classmate? A teacher?

You drank more of your beer as if it helped you get the words out.  “He was older than me,” you explained.  “He was in and out of institutions for years, so I didn’t see him very much. My parents put him through every kind of therapy imaginable, every quirk suppression program. They’d think it worked, but then it’d happen all over again. Like he couldn’t help himself.  It’d come out when he was angry... or when he was protective...”

You swallowed, and Dabi realized you had tears in your eyes.

“We don’t gotta talk about this.” he said.

You gave a small laugh and wiped at your eyes.  “Sorry,” you replied.

Dabi gave a dry laugh. “You did it again.”

“What?”

“Apologized when you didn’t need to.”

“Oh,” you laughed.  

Dabi cut you off before the words could fall from your lips again.  “Don’t say it.”

You laughed and gave him a light shove.  “Get out of my head.”

You were smiling again; and it made the pressure sitting on Dabi’s chest ease slightly.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” he said.

“I don’t mind. I just...” you stared into your beer can.  “I might need more alcohol than this if you want to hear the rest.”

Dabi gave a small smile. “I know a place.”

He paid the bill, finished the last of his beer, and the two of you left the protection of the canopy to venture out into the rain.  You held onto his arm and pressed yourself against his side against the cold as the two of you made your way down the street.  He skipped the first bar, knowing they overcharged for their alcohol, and then ushered you quickly into the next one.

It was busy, a small dive bar packed with bodies, the sound of pool balls being struck at the opposite end of the room.  Music played loudly over the speakers, blending in with the hum of multiple drunken conversations.  Dabi managed to spot an open bar stool and squeezed you onto it.  He remained standing next to you and had to put his mouth to your ear to ask you what you wanted.  You had to do the same to answer him, and he leaned across the counter to give your orders to the bartender.

A moment later, your drinks were in front of you.

“Aren’t you worried about being recognized here?” you shouted into Dabi’s ear.

Dabi leaned close to speak. “Nah, not here.  This side of town doesn’t give two shits. Half of the people here are wanted by the Hero Commission anyway.”  You stared at him with uncertainty, and he leaned in even closer, his hand warm on your back.  “You’re safe, doll. I promise.”

So, you sat and drank, the place too loud to carry a conversation.  Eventually the seat next to you opened up and Dabi took it.

A couple of drinks later, and you were feeling the effects of the alcohol much more. You felt more liquid than person, and you swayed slightly to the thrumming of music that played over the speakers, barely audible over the din of the space.  Dabi watched you silently with a half-lidded gaze, his eyes always observing.  You didn’t bring up your brother again, and Dabi didn’t ask, determined to keep the smile on your face for as long as possible.

After a little while, he leaned over to speak to you.

“Do you play pool?” he asked.

“What?”

“Pool.” he repeated.

You looked over at the pool table and noticed it was empty.  In fact, the entire bar had a little less people in it, some of the patrons deciding to continue their bar hopping elsewhere.  Still, it remained plenty busy, and you knew the table would get snagged up immediately.

Before you could answer, Dabi grabbed your hand and yanked you off the bar stool. Before you got too far, you grabbed your drink from the counter and brought it with you.

You stared at the table in front of you as Dabi grabbed a couple of cue sticks from the wall.

“This is a bad idea,” you chuckled.

Dabi looked up at you as he began setting the balls into the triangle.  “Why?”

“Because I’m fucking drunk, Dabi...” you laughed.

“You? Drunk?” he teased. He stepped closer to you and held up his fingers.  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Three.”

“Eh, you’re fine.”

“Wait, did I get it right??” you asked.

Dabi’s grin widened and he refused to answer.  “Do you wanna break or should I?”

“Hm, you go first. I’m waiting for the room to stop spinning.”

“Suit yourself.”  Dabi hit the cue ball and the triangle of balls burst in all directions.  The purple ball fell into the corner pocket. “You’re stripes.”

You puffed air out of your cheeks and took a sip of your drink for courage.  You stepped up to the table, lined up your cue stick, and missed horribly.

Dabi laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“C’mon doll, you’re just a lil’ rusty,” he chided.  Dabi lined up his next shot and sank another ball.

“How are you so good at this?” you complained.  “And how am I drunker than you??”

“Experience,” he replied.

You mimicked his response with a bratty tone and a scrunched-up face. “Experience. Please.”

You lined up your shot, and this time you hit the ball, but barely, the cue stick sideswiping. It caused the ball to spin off at the wrong angle before bouncing off one of Dabi’s, causing his to roll into the side pocket.

“Hey, thanks for that.” he commented.

“I swear to God, Dabi. If you don’t stop with your commentary, it’s gonna be your balls next.”

Dabi burst into laughter at your empty threat.  “Based on your hits tonight, I don’t think I’m too worried about it.”

You gave a shocked laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, c’mon doll. Don’t be like that.  Tell you what, I’ll give you a free shot.” He coaxed as he leaned on his cue stick.

You narrowed your eyes at him and took your position again.  Just as you were about to strike, Dabi interrupted.

“Hold on.”

“What?”

“Your form is all wrong.”

“Shut up, no it’s not.”

Dabi put his hands up in defense. “Okay, sure.  Go for it.”

You squinted at him, half to get your vision to focus and half to glare at him.  You repositioned yourself again, but now doubt and two failures loomed over you.  Finally, you cursed and stood up.

“Damn it.  Okay, fine.  Show me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not holding your cue stick right,” he commented.

“What do you mean?”

Dabi modeled for you. You tried to imitate, but hand-eye coordination was getting more and more difficult. He chuckled at your attempt and leaned his cue stick against the table.  Then he came up behind you, his hands on your hips.

His touch sent a shock of pleasure through you, and you sidestepped out of his hold.  “What are you doing??” you demanded, your eyes wide.

“Relax, doll,” he laughed. “I’m gonna help you.”

You let him get in position behind you, his body lining up with yours.  You could feel his breath on your ear, and it made every nerve sing at peak frequency.  He placed his hands over yours, setting up your hand along your cue stick.

“You hold it like this, and...” -- Dabi slowly moved the stick back and forth within your hands -- “you hit it like this.” He pointed to the middle and the bottom of the cue ball. “You’ll want to hit the ball here or here. Got it?”

You glanced at him, and instantly realized how close his face was to yours, your nose practically brushing his when you turned your head to look him in the eye.  His hand was on your waist, and all you could think about was closing the distance to kiss him.  But he broke his gaze with you and nodded at the pool table.

“Give it a try.”

Dabi stayed next to you, his body lined up with yours as you lined up your shot and took it the way he showed you. This time, you hit the ball you wanted, but it bounced off the edge, and hit the eight ball.

“Wha... NO!” you yelled as the black ball rolled into a pocket.

That was it. That was the game.  Dabi won.

“Wow. That was actually impressive how bad that was.”

You smacked his chest with the back of your hand. “I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“Hey, at least you hit the ball…”

You stuck your tongue out at him and took another sip of your drink. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you.

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Good,” you replied with a smile.

“Good. Let’s try again.”

“Nooo,” you whined.

“C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. I thought you wanted to have fun,” he teased.  “Besides, that was barely a game.”

“Ugh, fine.  But don’t they have like... cards here or something?”

“I’d probably win at that too.  Something tells me my poker face is better than yours.”

“You are so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Dabi chuckled as he set up the balls again.  “You break this time.”

You lined up your stick and hit the cue ball, sending the balls scattering.

Time passed as you played, Dabi refilling your drink when you asked as you bantered with him between turns.  Your skills improved slightly, with Dabi giving you tips here and there.  But the progress was hindered by the way you had difficulty focusing and the way your body didn’t always move the way you intended it to.  You made it through two games, with Dabi beating you both times before you finally gave up, the floor beneath your feet pitching much more than it had before.

“I quit,” you finally said.

You leaned on your cue stick, your body swaying slightly. Dabi was next to you, so you took the opportunity to lean against his chest to ground yourself.  But between the alcohol, stuffy bar, and his body heat, you pushed him away almost immediately.

“Ugh, you’re too hot,” you complained.

Dabi chuckled.  “Come on…”

He took you back to the bar and you sat down onto the barstool with less grace than you’d had before. It wasn’t your fault; the damn thing seemed to move.  There were no other seats again, so he stood next to you like before.

You laid your head on the counter, letting the cool, smooth surface soothe your forehead.

“She okay?” the bartender asked.

Dabi nudged you. “You okay?” he repeated.

With your head still down, you gave a thumbs up. 

“She’s good,” he replied.

You zoned out to the sound of the bar noise and the music playing, your body swaying slightly to the beat.  A moment later, a glass of water appeared in front of you.

“What’s this?” you demanded.

“Water, drink up,” Dabi ordered.

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Your call... you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Where’s my drink?” you asked, looking around bleary-eyed.

“You finished it.”

“Oh.  It was good, can I have another?”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment.  Then he pushed the water glass towards you.  “Drink, doll.  You’ll thank me later. Then I’ll order more.”

You grumbled but drank it anyway.  As promised, Dabi ordered you another drink, and you gave a happy wiggle as you began to drink it.

Dabi leaned against the bar counter with his head propped in his hand.  He stared at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“I like you like this.”

“What? Drunk?” you teased.

“Happy,” he corrected.

You stilled for a moment as you looked at him. 

“It’s because I’m with you,” you confessed.

Your answer seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening slightly as his grin faltered.  He gave a scoff.  “I’m sure the alcohol is helping too.”

“Shut up and take the compliment,” you retorted.  “I’m happy with you.  You make me happy.”

Dabi’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were making him grin, the bruise and the torn skin thrumming low.  “You’re repeating yourself now.”

“It’s so you’ll listen to me,” you replied adamantly as you took another sip.  Your thoughts were more fluid now, your usual filters and reservations carried away on the current of booze in your system.

“I think…” you started thoughtfully, “I thought going back to the hide out would help me feel better. But...”

“But it didn’t.”

You shook your head. “I looked at that place and I just felt... lonely.”

“And you don’t feel lonely now?” Dabi asked.

You shook your head again and leaned against his shoulder.  “I feel safe.”

Dabi froze under the contact as your confessions fought with his own denials.  You weren’t safe with him. He was unstable and violent and he didn’t deserve your trust.

But you were smiling now, and he couldn’t say that.

He turned his body towards you slightly to put his arm around your shoulders, and you nuzzled comfortably against his chest.

“You ready to go back?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you whined.

“You sure? You’re looking awfully shiftfaced now.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Says the girl falling asleep over her glass...”

You sat up and pushed against his chest with your hands. “Shut up.” Then, your eyes lit up with an idea. “Oh! I know!  You know what I want?”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow at you.  “More alcohol?”

You pointed at him. “Yes.  But also, I want to dance.”

Dabi’s grin vanished immediately. “What??”

“I want to go dancing!” you repeated.  “C’mon Dabi, pleeaassee?”

Dabi stared at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. 

Dabi was familiar with the club scene.  He used to visit it frequently before the League, chasing quick highs and whatever chick would spare him a passing glance in an effort to drown his pain in a few cheap hours of euphoria.  He knew just the place to go, a place that was safe for people like him, where they didn’t really care about IDs or police records, where cash and drugs were the only currency that mattered.

But it’d been a long time since he’d been there, and the place was filled with temptations and potential dangers. It was no place for someone like you.

Besides, you already looked ready to fall over.

“I bet you can’t even walk straight.”

“Yes I can!”

“Okay, prove it.  If you can walk out of here without help and without bumping into anyone, then I’ll take you dancing.”

It was a tall order as the world tilted on its axis around you, but you were stubborn and determined.

Dancing.  To be able to finally move your body, to feel the freedom of music against your skin.  You hadn’t realized how wound tight you’d been since you’d lost everything and joined the League.  It’d been nonstop healing, and sneaking around, and hiding away.  Dancing, even for a little bit, to lose yourself to movement and be just another face in the crowd, sounded like just what you needed.

With determination, you stood up from your stool.  The motion instantly made you lightheaded, and you swayed on your feet, balance eluding you.  Dabi’s arms were out in an instant, catching you, and you fell against his chest in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“No, no,” you giggled. “I can do this.”

“Doll, you already failed the test.”

“Shh!” you put a finger to his lips, but now the giggles had you and you couldn’t stop them.

Dabi’s arms were around your waist as your arms hung around his neck.  You swayed in his hold, the motion soothing.  Your vision focused on him, and for once you allowed yourself to blatantly stare at his beauty, at the shape of his jaw, the color of his eyes, even the staples along his cheeks. Your thoughts made their way seamlessly from your brain to your mouth.

“You’re really hot,” you cooed.

“Yeah, you told me earlier.”

“No, I mean, like... you’re hot.  Like attractive, hot.  It’s unfair how hot you are.”

Dabi, for all of his self-control, couldn’t stop the heat from warming his cheeks, and he forced a laugh as he began to untangle your fingers from his neck.  The way your eyes were looking at him, the way your tongue peeked out to wet your lips...

“Okay, now I know you’re shitfaced.”

“Shut up, it’s true.”

“Everyone looks more attractive when you’re drunk.”

You looked around at all the other faces at the bar.  “That’s not true...” you muttered.

Dabi laughed again while internally his mind was spinning.  You were going to be the death of him.  God, he wished you were saying this shit while you were sober... he wondered if you’d even remember any of it.

He sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

“But what about the dancing??”

“We’ll have to save it for another time.”

You pouted as Dabi began to lead you out of the bar.  The realization that your evening of fun was coming to an end made the weight of dread return to your shoulders.  Tears pricked your eyes as you began to leave.

You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want to stop being with Dabi, spending time with him like this.  You didn’t want to go back to that stuffy hotel with your medical bag and PTSD waiting for you.

Once you stepped outside, Dabi let go of your hand and walked ahead of you.  The cold night air began to clear your head slightly. Everything was coated in rainwater now as the low, heavy clouds passed over you, painted in the yellowish-brown light of the city; but there was a lull in the rainfall that gave a much-needed reprieve and brought a heavy hush upon the quiet street compared to the boisterous bar inside.

You inhaled the air deep into your lungs, letting the damp crispness cool your blood. You stared ahead of you at Dabi, donned in his black coat, his black hair lit under the streetlamp. He turned to look at you, and for a moment you stood still and stared. He was picturesque, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What?” he asked.

“I...” you swallowed, a million different responses piling onto your tongue at once.

I don’t want to go back.

I want to be with you a little longer.

I want you to kiss me.

I never should have left last night...

God, you cared for him. You cared for him more than you had let yourself realize. But now, here away from the chaos, with your worries subdued under liquor and fresh air, you understood just how incredibly head over heels you were for him. It scared you, because he was not someone you ever thought you’d fall for.  He was self-destructive, broken, and single-minded in his obsession.  It left little space in his heart for anything else.  But he was also intelligent, highly self-aware, and surprisingly kind, in his own way.  You’d begun to see a side to him that you hadn’t known existed before, and it was a side that only you ever seemed to witness, something that was reserved special for you. You felt protected by it, cared for.  In a world that had tried to erase you, he somehow made you feel... wanted.

All you could think as you stood there unable to answer, was that you wanted to be with him always.

Dabi’s dark brows furrowed and he stepped close to you, his eyes looking over your face through his black bangs.  His thumb came up and brushed fresh tears from your cheek.

“Why are you cryin’ again, doll?” His voice was deep, coating you like honey, and you closed your eyes to let it wash over you.

You hadn’t realized you were crying; you hadn’t felt the tears fall, too focused on your emotions as your skin hummed like an aura around you.  You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your cheek, even though he’d already lowered his hand.

You shook your head in disbelief.  So much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say any of it.  Not without scaring him away.  If he learned how deeply you felt about him...

You’re not my type.

You understood those words more clearly, now.  It wasn’t that you weren’t his type; it was that Dabi didn’t have a type. He wasn’t someone who would commit, who would settle down. He couldn’t even picture a future for himself beyond taking down his father.

But you didn’t want to face that either, because that train of thought only led to more heartache. What you wanted was to remember the way he put his arm over your shoulder, the way he wiped your tears from your cheeks, from the way he’d hovered over you the night before, his eyes drinking you in as if you were all he wanted.  You wanted to hold his hand, to lean against him as you sat together, to bask in his attention a bit longer.

“I...” you started again. “I’m not ready.  I’m not ready to go back.”

Dabi stared at you, his expression unreadable, and you could tell he was deciding on what to do next. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and checked the time on his phone.  It was late, but not terribly; there were at least another couple of hours before the public transportation systems shut down for the night.

“You wanna dance that badly?” he asked.

What you wanted was more time to pretend. To pretend that this was more than what it was, to pretend that you were two regular people enjoying each other’s company and seeing where things went without worry or consequence about what sat on the horizon.

“I... I just want a little more time,” you whispered, “to feel normal.”

Dabi stepped even closer, his body inches from yours. His long fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his eyes following his action.

“You’re the most normal girl I’ve ever known.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the odd compliment, and Dabi’s lips turned up at the corners slightly.

“If we stay out longer, I might need more of your pills.  Do you have any on you?”

You anticipated this possibility and pulled the small Ziplock bag out of your pocket.  Dabi took the pills you offered, noting the few remaining.  You tried not to stare too intently at the way he placed them onto his tongue and swallowed them, but you were pretty sure you were failing at being discrete.

He put his arm over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Warmth swelled from his touch, and a great wave of euphoric victory washed over you. Your smile came back.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Dancing.”

Dabi led you towards the train station where he grabbed a quick snack from the vending machine and a drink.  Once you were seated in the empty train car, you ate as you watched the city lights pass by. While you watched the city, Dabi watched you.  He watched the way your eyes lit up, the longing in them as you looked out at what used to be your home, at a world that you’d been cut off from.

Normal.  You wanted to be normal.  And Dabi meant what he’d said. You were as normal as they came. You never belonged with the League, but you did it out of necessity. The way you talked about it made it sound like a cage, and the more Dabi thought about it, the more he realized that for you, it probably was.

He wondered what you would be like if you could have your freedom again. If you could exist without fear, without worry, without pain.  How much brighter would your smile be? How much happier would you feel?  He could picture it; you, successful and happy, with a career, a home, a family... you seemed like the type that would want a family.

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t picture himself there with you.  His future didn’t hold the potential that yours did, and he didn’t want the things that he assumed you wanted.  No matter which way he looked at it, he didn’t belong there, his dark shadow blocking out the light that you desperately needed to flourish.

And yet, for some reason, you always shined brightest when you were with him.  You were happiest with him.  You’d even said so with your own words.  The safety that you’d been seeking before wasn’t at the hotel; it was with him.

His mind and his heart couldn’t reconcile the two realities.  They co-existed in his consciousness, yet their edges never touched.

You wanted to feel normal, but Dabi knew that normal would no longer be possible for you.  Not after what had happened to you, how they had tried to erase you.  There was nothing for you to go back to, not with hero society being what it was, the status quo still locked in place and the people who hurt you still in power.

Dabi mourned his past while you mourned your future.

So, you wanted to pretend tonight.  Dabi couldn’t blame you.  That’s why he changed his mind, even though discomfort and warning bells nagged at the back of his consciousness.  That was why he took your pills so that he could stave off any temptation he might feel once you both reached your new destination. It was the only option available that he had in order to give you want you wanted.

He’d let you pretend. And maybe... just for a little bit... Dabi could pretend too.  He could set aside his identities of Dabi and Touya, stashing them away to a deep, dark place inside himself.  They would never be gone from him entirely but, maybe tonight, he could quiet their screaming for just a little while. He could pretend, take on a third, unnamed identity.  No one important, just some guy having a night out with a girl that he had a crush on.

You stepped off the train with Dabi into a different neighborhood.  More bars lined the streets here, more people walked the sidewalks. The heavy thrums of music spilled out of open club doors into the streets where people lined up for entry.

Dabi led you along with his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him.  It was as if he were making sure you didn’t get separated from him, lost in the throngs of drunken passersby. And it was a good call, too... you were still very much tipsy, your balance uneven as you followed along. Your eyes kept getting distracted by the things around you, and Dabi had to guide you around oncoming strangers more than once.

“Careful, doll,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” you said off-handedly. His hand gave your shoulder a small squeeze.

You were looking around, trying to guess which club he would take you to.  Instead, he turned down a dark alley.

“Wait, what...?”

“Just trust me.”

So you did, letting him guide you until you found a back door entrance with a line of strangers waiting.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a special place for people like us,” he replied. Then he grinned down at you.  “What, do you think villains are just constantly fighting and stealing all the time?”

You smiled and leaned against him as you waited.  The closer you got, the more anxious you felt, a mixture of fear and excitement. You could feel the music in your feet now, could hear how the building seemed to vibrate from the bass that spilled out of the open door.

“You still got those extra pills on you?” Dabi asked, his eyes ahead.

“Yeah, why?”

“Hand ‘em over.”

You hesitated, and Dabi looked down at you.

“They’re not for me, doll. Money’s not the only currency here, and that stack of cash I had is gonna dry up if we’re not careful. We still gotta be able to get back later.”

Discomfort stirred across your skin, but you pulled out the pills and handed the bag to him anyway.

“Good girl,” he muttered as he pocketed them.

The reaction your body had to those two simple words was astronomical, heat washing over you and moisture pooling between your legs.  It took you by surprise, and you bit your lip to keep yourself composed as you took another step forward in the line.

It wasn’t long before it was your turn to go in. You had expected them to check ID, but instead, Dabi talked to the man guarding the door in low whispers. A few words and an exchange of bills and the pills and you were finally in.

The atmosphere smothered you instantly, invading all of your senses.  The noise, the smell, the heat, the vibrations, the flashing lights and smoke... It was overwhelming at first, but Dabi kept his arm over you, guiding you through it.  Your eyes took it all in, watching people dancing, grinding, making out.  You averted your eyes, realizing exactly what you’d gotten yourself into and who you were with.

You turned your attention back ahead when Dabi stopped, and you realized he’d found the bar.

“I’m gonna need a drink before we do this,” he commented, his voice loud to override the noise. “You want one?”

Yes. Yes, you definitely needed another drink.

You nodded at him.

“Whad’ya want? Better make it strong, this is probably our last one for tonight,” he replied as he checked the money left in his hand.  The stack was significantly thinner than when you first started.

You gave him your order, picking something that would taste awful but be highly effective.  He grinned at you and gave the order to the bartender.  A minute later, you both had your own drinks. You took a sip of yours and grimaced.

“You’re not gonna scold me?” he teased, holding his drink up for emphasis.

You scoffed.  “Would it make a difference?” you asked.

Dabi laughed.  “Not really.”

“Exactly.”

Dabi’s shoulder bumped yours playfully.  “Don’t worry, doll.  I’ll get you home safe.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.  “I know you will,” you replied.

You watched the people on the dance floor with longing as you sipped at your drink, waiting for the effects to kick in. You needed to be drunk enough to not care about how you danced or who was watching. You need to be drunk enough to be able to nearly forget yourself and all your troubles.

While you watched the dance floor, Dabi kept an eye out for any potential trouble.  His eyes caught a couple popping pills in their mouths and chasing it with alcohol.  Further away, a group of girls bent over a table, snorting white powder into their noses off their makeup mirrors.  In this place, no one cared what anyone else did, as long as they didn’t start any fights.

Dabi’s arm around your shoulder tightened as he looked away, angling you slightly so the groups were behind you.  He didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to see any of it. Because as soon as you did, he knew you’d want to leave, your worry over him greater than your desire for freedom.

And Dabi understood why. He could feel the pull of it, the drag of the old familiar behaviors brought forth by old memories of a time when he didn’t care about consequences.  If he were by himself, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist it, the temptation too great.  But this time, he had you with him, and it was you that kept him grounded.

It was excruciating waiting; he finished his drink long before yours, knowing the sooner he finished it, the sooner it would hit, and the sooner he’d be able to sober up later. It mixed with your pills in his gut and he could feel the lightheadedness, could feel the numbness settle over him comfortably. His scars didn’t hurt, and the headaches and nausea that came and went each time your medication wore off was once again silent.

But he still had enough awareness to realize how stupid he was being, the risk he was taking by bringing you here.  He was being a damn idiot just to make you happy and keep you smiling. What if he fucked up again? What if he couldn’t stop himself? What if he got caught up in something and you ended up getting hurt tonight?

That single possibility lingered in his mind, and he used it to shackle himself to you, using your presence as a lifeline.  He refused to let it happen.  He’d never be able to forgive himself if it did.

He watched as you finally finished the last of your drink.  Your body was loose and untethered again, and you swayed subconsciously to the music.

“You ready?” he asked.

The sooner he could get you out onto the dance floor, the easier all of this would be for him.  He’d let you dance, you’d get what you needed out of your system, and then he’d take you home.

He just needed to not see it. He needed to be distracted.  He needed to stay focused on you.

You stared at him, eyes wide with hesitancy.  But there was longing there as well, hidden behind the glassiness of your eyes.

“Yeah,” you finally answered.

He let you lead the way, allowing you to pick your way through the crowd to find a space where you could squeeze in.  Dabi followed behind you, his hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t get lost and to make sure no one else tried to approach you.

The music was upbeat and fast paced, the kind that made people want to jump and sway and sing. Your body fell into it naturally, carried along on the beat.

Dabi stood, his body frozen to distraction as he watched you move.  Your eyes were closed, every part of you in motion, and he could tell that you were happy as your mouth sang the lyrics.  It was as if he weren’t even there, or more like you weren’t there anymore, just a vessel through which the music moved through. It was a tide that you ebbed and flowed with, and Dabi was the rock.

You loved to dance. Dabi had never even thought about it before; he’d never once asked himself what it was that you liked, what you enjoyed. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he really knew about you. It only made the curiosity burn brighter, hotter.

What else made you happy?

You pulled him back to reality with a tug of your hand, your eyes and face alight with joy.

“Dance with me!” you pleaded.

So, he did, his body coming up to fit behind yours. He let you set the motions, let your hips lead his as his arm wrapped around your waist.  His body burned like fire everywhere your bodies touched, and he let it consume him, let himself get lost between you and the music, finding solace in a place where time had no meaning and all that mattered was the movement, the rhythm, the feel and smell of your skin.

The songs changed, blending from one to the next as you danced together, heady from alcohol and arousal.  You stopped thinking, you stopped worrying. You let yourself drift in happiness with Dabi pressed against you, his body like a brand against your skin that burned itself into your soul.  You were tingling, your skin singing everywhere.  

The palms of Dabi’s hands grazed the curve of your shoulders and down your arms until they found their home on your hips, his fingers curling around and bringing you flush against him as you danced.  The movement of your bodies were different now, changing, evolving.  And faintly, you realized that a threshold was being crossed, a line drawn in the sand that was being etched away with each hot breath across the shell of your ear.  You could feel Dabi’s belt buckle against your lower back, could feel the denim of his jeans and the firmness beneath it that had made itself at home against the curve of your ass, and all you could think of was how you wanted more, more, more.

Every inch of you began to tighten like a coil, and you weren’t the only one.  Dabi lowered his head until his nose was brushing the crook of your neck, his lips ghosting over your shoulder but never quite touching, never actually reaching out and...

Your movements together slowed to a standstill as people continued to dance around you.  Dabi tucked his nose behind the shell of your ear, the breath from his lips tickling your neck in ragged gusts.

He was holding back. Every fiber of Dabi’s being was pulled tight as he fought every natural urge that coursed through his veins.

Your hand reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair soothingly.  It was hot and sweaty, the strands sticking between your fingers. You scratched at his scalp, and he hummed, the vibration echoing in your own chest.

“You okay?” you said just loud enough for him to hear.

He growled low and his grip tightened, fingers digging into the plush of your hips, causing your breath to hitch.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You turned in his arms to look at him, and he stared back, his ocean eyes glowing with hunger.  You put your arms around his neck, and you moved in a gentle sway, even as the music continued to pound loudly and quickly around you.

“Am I now?” you grinned.

Dabi’s eyes narrowed at you.

His hands gripped your ass and pushed you tight against him until there was no mistaking just how crazy you were making him, just how badly he wanted you.

“Yeah. You are.”

His action stole a little gasp from your lips, and he grinned devilishly.  It only emboldened you, eager to finally rip away the thin, false veneer of a boundary that no longer existed between you.

“So...” you said as you put your forehead to his, your noses bumping gently, “what’re you gonna do about it?”

He could feel your hot breath, could smell the alcohol on your tongue.  He squeezed his eyes shut, his brows furrowed.  You were drunk, he was drunk and slightly high, and none of this was supposed to be happening.

He shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t...

He didn’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret this, to write this off as a mistake.  He wanted this to mean something.

But then you whined his name, the same way you did last night, with that needy, pleading tone that made his heart drop in his chest and his cock throb against his jeans.

“Dabi...”

Fuck it.

Dabi’s resolve shattered into a million pieces, and he kissed you.

Pleasure erupted like wildfire and you gasped against his lips.  Your hands behind his neck instantly tightened around him as you slotted against his body like a magnet. His arms tightened around you, his hands following up and down the curve of your back before returning to cup your ass and push you tight against his groin where his need was heaviest.  Your need was heavy too, pulsing in your veins and throbbing between your legs until you were sure you’d drown.

Your mouth opened hungrily, and Dabi was done for, his tongue meeting yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away as he drank you in.

You were lightheaded, on the brink of fainting, when your lips finally parted.  Dabi stared at you, his pupils dilated, his lips wet.

“Wanna get outta here?” he finally asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

Dabi grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the club into the night air.  The cold chilled the sweat on your skin, your hearing muffled from the aftereffects of the club music.  Everything held a strange lucidity now, despite the alcohol still rampant in your veins.  It was as if a heavy veil had finally been lifted and you could see the beauty of the world around you, all of its edges in crystal clear clarity, and at the center of it was him.

You practically had to jog to keep up, your head still swimming.  You turned the corner and managed to find yourself on a quieter street, with less people. He led you down it, making another turn into another nondistinct alleyway, much quieter than the last without any back entrances to clubs or bars.

You needed to kiss him again.  You needed it like you needed air.

You tugged on his arm, yanking him back toward you.  You met the incoming momentum of his body with your hand on his cheek and your lips on his, hot and eager.

He kissed you back instantly, his tongue opening your mouth again and he backed you up against the wet brick wall, his palms exploring your body.  Your hips, your thighs... he pressed himself against you, and you moaned at the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs, your hips rolling.

Dabi’s mouth broke from yours to trail wet kisses to your jawline and down your neck.  Your fingers gripped his hair, your body moving of its own accord, finally cut loose of its strings.

But suddenly, a wave of unpleasant heat began to wash over you, and the lightheadedness from before evolved into full-on spinning.

“Dabi...” you warned.

“Hm?” he hummed, too engrossed in the feel of you to hear the shift in your tone.

You could feel it, the way your stomach rolled.  All that drinking, and dancing, and running...

You were going to be sick.

“Dabi stop –”

You shoved him away just in time to bend over to the side and vomit your alcohol all over the ground.

“Oh shit.” Dabi’s arm was around you in an instant, holding you up as you emptied your stomach, his other hand brushing your hair back and out of your face.  “It’s okay, doll. I gotcha.”

The lust in Dabi’s veins evaporated immediately, his mental fog receding as he held you while your body convulsed.

Realization crashed over him on all that had just happened.

He shouldn’t have done any of this.

He shouldn’t have taken you that club, he shouldn’t have danced with you, he shouldn’t have touched you like that...

And he definitely shouldn’t have kissed you.  Not while you were both drunk off your asses, where you couldn’t tell where the alcohol ended and your feelings began.

Fuck, you were too important to him to fuck this up.

It was too late now. He could still taste you on his tongue, could recall in stunning clarity the feel of your body beneath his palms, the way it had bent to his will.  He’d finally had a taste of you and he craved more. He’d unlocked something within himself that couldn’t be put back, had given away something that couldn’t be returned.

You moaned miserably once you were done and wiped your mouth.  You propped yourself against the wall with your body bent and your hands on your legs.

“Ughh...” you groaned.

Dabi crouched in front of you so he could look up into your face.  “You okay?”

You looked at him with tired eyes and shook your head.  “Nnnnope. Everything’s...” – you whirled your finger in a circular motion – “ssspinning.”  You lowered your head again.  “Oh, God. That last drink hit hard.”

Dabi took your hand in his.  “Let’s get you home.”

“Yyyup,” you replied. You made to stand up, but the nausea came back.  “Woah, woah... hang on... I’mmm gonna... need another m-minute.”  Your words were slurred and your movements slow.  You bent back over, your head low again as you breathed deep breaths in and out.

Dabi crouched in front of you again.  He placed his hands on your calves and rubbed his thumbs in small circles into the denim.

You glanced up at him and a drunk giggle escaped your lips.  “Totally sexy right now, aren’t I?”

Dabi smirked.  “You’re always sexy.”

You straightened up slightly and breathed in through your nose and out your mouth as the nausea began to subside and the spinning slowed.  You leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes closed.

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you joked.

Dabi stood up and brushed your hair away from your face. “Obviously that was a fuckin’ lie.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

You were spiraling now, all the alcohol you didn’t throw up running amok in your system, and it was late. Dabi put his arm around your shoulder to keep you steady.

“C’mon, doll... I think we’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

“Mmm... I like when you call me doll,” you hummed.

“I know you do.”

“And sweetheart.”

“Yep.”

Dabi started to help you out of the alley, but you stumbled, your steps wobbly.  You broke out into a fit of giggles but had to pause again as another wave of nausea washed over you.

“You gonna throw up again?” he asked.

“I dunno.  I mean... I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left to throw up.”  You looked around you, the surroundings unfamiliar.  “How far away is home?”

“We gotta get to the train.”

“Ugghhh... too far,” you whined. Exhaustion was coming on fast and hard.  You wanted to lay down on the ground and sleep.

A raindrop struck the top of your head, then another.  More and more began to fall.

Dabi cursed.  “Ah, shit...”

You held your hand out, watching as they landed on your palm, your fingers. You opened your mouth and caught a couple drops on your tongue.

Dabi stared at you, his breath stuck in his chest. 

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  And, for at least a little while tonight, you were his.  He watched, memorizing the nuances of you, your laugh, your smile, the color of your eyes, your hair, every beauty and every imperfection locked away into a safe place on the possibility that tomorrow everything would be different.

Tomorrow you may not want him at all.

So, for now, he’d enjoy however much was left of the night, even if all that was left was laughing, stumbling, and dancing in the rain.

The drops began to fall faster, heavier.  It began to flatten his hair and soak into his clothes.  You were oblivious, your face tilted up towards the falling rain, as you held your arms out.  You did a small spin but stumbled, and Dabi caught you in his arms before you could hit the pavement.

“Whoops!” You giggled.

“Shitfaced,” he teased.

“Happy,” you replied. You put your arms around his torso, your head resting against his chest. “Happy.” You repeated again, your voice softer.

Dabi allowed his arms to wrap around you, allowed his quirk to warm his body slightly to stave off the cold for the both of you.

He had to get you back, before the trains shut down.

“Come on doll, we gotta hurry.” Dabi grabbed your hand and began dragging you down the street.  You followed him, your feet barely able to keep up.

As the rain soaked through your clothes, you began to shiver.  Puddles formed in the street, small streams trickling down the gutters.  By the time you’d managed to reach the train station, you were both soaked.  Dabi managed to get you onto the last train for the night.  You sat down together and you began rubbing your arms, your teeth chattering slightly.

Dabi took off his stitched coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here.”

You wrapped it around you gratefully and snuggled against him, your arms wrapped around his.

As the train began to move, it rocked ever so slightly, back and forth.  Dabi allowed his cheek to rest against your wet head as he watched the city pass outside.  He felt an unusual sense of quiet in this moment, a peace that he’d never felt before. The usual darkness in him was always there, lurking, but for once, he didn’t care about it, didn’t look at it. He knew this night was wrought with impermanence, and he told himself that he would pretend.

After a silence that lasted for eternity, Dabi allowed himself to speak from a place that he usually kept quiet, a place he’d never before given credence to.

“I hope you remember this...” he whispered against your hair.

You didn’t answer. The mixture of alcohol, exhaustion, warmth, and the movement of the train had lulled you to sleep.  It forced a small loneliness to settle on Dabi’s shoulders.

It had been fun while it lasted.

 He had to shake you awake once the train reached your stop.  You were half asleep as you followed him off and leaned against him the entire walk home.  Dabi had half a mind to give you a piggyback ride to save time, but the healing wound on his back itched as a reminder.  His scars didn’t hurt terribly yet, but he remained cautious, aware that your quirk had burned off long ago. Now it was only your pills that were keeping the excruciating pain at bay.  He could feel them lurking beneath the surface, waiting to wreak havoc on his body again.

It was an ordeal getting you in and up the stairs.  You’d gravitated towards the couch in the common room as soon as you saw it, and whined at him when he redirected you to the stairs.

“Elevator,” you whined.

The old machinery squeaked and rattled, and Dabi didn’t want to wake the others just to deal with curious looks and even more curious questions.

“Too noisy.” Dabi replied.

So, he helped you up the steps of the stairwell, catching you when you faltered.

By the third stumble, your giggles returned.

“Shh, shut up,” he whispered.

Your giggle turned into a cackle, unable to control yourself, and Dabi put his hand over your mouth to try to quiet you.  Your tongue stuck out and licked his palm, running across his staples.

He yanked his hand away, repulsed.  “Ugh! You’re disgusting.”

You cackled some more, and your voice echoed off the stairwell. You clamped your own hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as your eyes squeezed shut, tears stinging the corners.

Dabi couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered.  “Come on, you idiot.”

He finally had to put your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist, and your giggles finally subsided, the occasional chuckle escaping your lips.

Dabi managed to get you through your bedroom door and plopped you down on top of your bed, where you lay sprawled out, your eyelids heavy.

“Dabi...” you slurred.

Dabi began helping you out of your shoes.  “Yeah?”

“Did we kiss?”

Dabi froze, his hands in the middle of peeling off your wet socks.  It was as if like you’d shot a bullet through his chest, and now his heart was bleeding out, leaving nothing but emptiness inside.

You didn’t remember.

You already forgot.

Dabi stared at you for a moment as you laid back with your arm over your eyes to block the light. His jaw clenched.

“No, doll.”

“Aww...” you pouted. “I thought we did...”

“You must’ve been dreaming on the train.”

“Mmm, it was a really good dream...”

You rolled to your side and curled in on yourself, tears in your eyes as you stared at your bedside lamp. You were still wrapped up in his coat, with your own soaked jacket underneath.

“C’mon, doll.”

Dabi made you sit up and began taking his coat off you.  You rubbed at your eyes sleepily.  As soon as he got your own jacket off, you fell back sideways into the bed.  Dabi grabbed your blanket and laid it over you.

“I wish I were your type...” you whispered.

Dabi froze for a moment, his eyes on you.  But you didn’t look at him; it was almost as if you were talking to yourself.

It stung him how little you remembered from your night together.  But Dabi accepted it bitterly, playing along.  Maybe it was for the best.  Maybe tomorrow you wouldn’t hate him.

“No you don’t,” he replied quietly.

“Yes I do....”

Your eyes closed, and Dabi watched and waited.  But they didn’t open again, and your breaths fell soft and even. You’d fallen asleep.

A heavy sigh escaped out of his nose, and he crouched at the edge of your bed, his arms on your mattress with his chin in his fist as he watched you sleep.

His type.  It was the second time you’d brought it up that night, even though you didn’t remember.  He remembered the jab he’d thrown at you ages ago; he remembered how you reacted. It was his first real hint that showed him you were interested in him.

But then everything fell apart and you put him back together piece by piece. And it was all different after that.  Dabi had assumed that his little comment no longer mattered; that it had become a thing of the past, once you’d gotten to know him and all of his problems.  After all, why the hell would you even want to be his type anyway?

But you did, and now his careless words from before were back to bite him in the ass.  Because now he had only one type, and it was you.

And you weren’t going to remember a thing.

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

Chapter 17

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[stephstars08]

Best Friend’s Sister

Adley Rutschman x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Fluff and Maybe a Tiny Bit Of Angst, Mention of Cheating, Anxiety, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any!)

Summary: Adley’s best friend is his teammate Gunnar and they have been so close ever since the Orioles drafted them. They are so close that they live together so when Gunnar’s big sister comes to Maryland to visit she stays with her brother and his best friend. But right when Adley meets Y/N he instantly falls for her which makes him freak out because he knows that he’s growing feelings for not just any girl, but he’s falling for his best friend’s sister.

Word Count: 2,018

Author’s Note: Just wanted to leave a little note that this story might not be completely accurate. This story takes place last season. I’ve heard Adley and Gunnar say that they have lived together multiple times. I don’t know if they just lived together when Gunnar first got called up or not and I don’t know if they live together now. They definitely live together during spring training but again this story takes place last season where I believed they were still living together during the regular season!

Adley is the star catcher for the Baltimore Orioles and his best friend is his teammate Gunnar Henderson who is the Orioles star in the in field and is also a star with his bat as well. Adley and Gunnar were both drafted by the team in 2019. Adley was drafted number one overall after is record breaking season at Oregon State University. The team ended the season with a National Championship. Gunnar was drafted right out of high school.

The boys became close through the minor leagues all the way up to the major leagues. Adley made his major league debut in May 2022 and Gunnar made his major league debut the same year in September.

People noticed the close bond between the two players that people were saying that Gunnar is Adley’s sidekick. Both boys have admitted that they are very close and have said that the main reason why they are so close is because they live together in a contemporary style house.

———————————————

The Orioles just ended the day with another win. The team has a day off tomorrow before they start another series back at home. The team is currently in Boston getting ready to leave Fenway for the airport back to Maryland.

The team was in the visitor’s locker room gathering their stuff up to head outside to the bus. Adley was putting on his sneakers when Gunnar approached him. “Remember my big sister, is coming tomorrow morning.” Gunnar said reminding him.

A couple months ago Gunnar’s sister who is just a couple years older than him told him that she will be coming to visit him from their home town in Alabama. Gunnar asked Adley if it was okay if Y/N can stay in their guest room while she’s in town which Adley told him it wasn’t a problem at all. Y/N is the only person in Gunnar’s family that Adley hasn’t met yet. Gunnar has told Adley how amazing Y/N is and how close they are with one another. Gunnar is very excited to see Y/N since when Gunnar is playing baseball he doesn’t see Y/N a lot since she’s busy with her career. Y/N just broke up with her boyfriend of one year so she felt like she needed to get away so why not visit her baby bro.

“Right, thanks for reminding me.” Adley told Gunnar as he tied the laces to his left shoe. “How long is she staying with us again?” Adley asked him in a curious tone as he put on his right shoe. “A week and a half.” Gunnar answered him.

“You’re going to love her. She’s like the girl version of me.” Gunnar told him. “Okay so I’m basically going to be living another you.” Adley said as he stood up after tying his right shoe. “Can’t wait.” Adley added in a teasing tone as he playfully rolled his eyes. “Hey! I’m a good roommate!” Gunnar said defending himself as Adley picked up his bags that had him equipment and uniform in. “Whatever you say.” Adley said still teasing his best friend as he made his way out of the locker room. Gunnar rolled his eyes and followed him. He knows that Adley’s just messing with him like he always does. Adley sees Gunnar as a little brother.

———————————————

It was the next morning and Adley was awoken by music playing downstairs. Adley let out a big groan as he got out of his comfy bed. He was planning on sleeping in since the team had a long day yesterday but obviously that’s not going to happen. Adley walked out of his room and stomped downstairs to the living room. He heard the music coming from the kitchen so he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Gunnar will you turn down the-“ Adley started to say in a snappy and annoyed tone but stopped himself when he saw that the person in the kitchen wasn’t Gunnar. Adley right away knew that it was Y/N since she looked similar to Gunnar. Y/N stopped mixing the pancake mix that was in the bowl and paused the music that was playing on her phone.

“Shit! You’re not Gunnar.” Adley said as his cheeks turned a rosy red in embarrassment. “No, but people do say that I do look like the girl version of him.” Y/N told him with a giggle. “I’m Y/N.” Y/N added introducing herself with a kind smile. “I’m Adley but you probably know that so why am I telling you something that you already know.” Adley said cursing at himself in his head. Y/N let out another giggle which made Adley’s heart skip a beat. “It’s okay.” Y/N reassured him.

“Sorry for barging in here like that.” Adley apologized. “You don’t have to apologize.” Y/N told him. “I’m sorry about the music. Gunnar kept turning it up.” Y/N apologized. “It’s okay. This ain’t the first time I’ve been woken up by Gunnar’s music.” Adley told her with a small sigh. “Yeah, as much as I love my little bro he can sometimes be hard to live with.” Y/N told him which made Adley let out a small laugh.

“Do you want some pancakes?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone as she walked over to the stove carring the bowl that had the pancake batter in. “Sure.” Adley said with a nod. Y/N gave him a small smile and started to pour some of the batter into the big pan with a spoon. As Y/N cooked the pancakes Adley walked over to the kitchen island and took a seat down onto one of the chairs. As she cooked Adley would glance over at her. He didn’t notice that he was just staring at her till Gunnar walked in caring a grocery bag that has a carton of milk in it.

“I’m back.” Gunnar said. “Hey sleepy head.” Gunnar said walking over to Adley and roughing up his messy brunette hair with his empty hand. Adley rolled his eyes as he pushed Gunnar’s arm away. “I hope my annoying sister didn’t bother you while I was gone.” Gunnar said in a teasing tone. “Oh shut up and put the milk in the fridge.” Y/N told him in a stern tone. “Geez so mean.” Gunnar said pulling the milk out of the bag and walked over to the fridge. Y/N rolled her eyes as Gunnar opened the fridge and put the milk in it.

After Y/N finished making enough pancakes for herself and the boys they sat down at kitchen island together. As they ate Y/N and Gunnar told Adley stories about them growing up together. Adley also got to know Y/N as well.

———————————————

As the days passed and the more Adley has gotten to know Y/N he’s realized that he is falling for Y/N. And he knows that he’s not just falling for any girl, no! He’s falling for his best friend’s sister. He’s falling for Gunnar’s older sister.

When Adley’s around Y/N he just can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach. When they lock eyes Adley feels his heart rate speed up. He loves hearing her talk with her southern Alabama accent that matches Gunnar’s.

Adley knows that he’s falling head over heels for her and some times he feels like she feels the same way but sometimes he thinks that it’s all in his head. But that’s not his biggest worry. His biggest worry is what Gunnar will think. Would he freak out if he finds out that his best friend likes his sister? Even though Y/N is the older sibling he can tell that Gunnar is very over protective of her. Adley wants to tell Gunnar about what he’s been feeling but he’s worried about what his reaction would be.

———————————————

It was a Saturday night and the Orioles had an early game win so to celebrate some players game to Adley and Gunnar’s house. Y/N sat in the backyard with her brother and his teammates. Since there was a fire pit in the backyard Gunnar put some firewood in the pit and started a bomb fire so everyone sat around the fire just having some drinks and talked. As time passed some guys left one by one. Once the last teammate left Gunnar called it a night for himself since he was exhausted so he went inside to his room leaving Y/N and Adley alone by the bomb fire.

There was a comfortable silence between the two till Y/N broke it. “I enjoyed watching you play. You sure know how to put on a damn good show.” Y/N told him which made Adley blush. He was hoping that Y/N didn’t notice. “Thanks.” Adley said with a smile. “I’m glad I took this trip. Really has helped me get my mind a reset.” Y/N told him. “Gunnar told me that you recently just got out of a relationship.” Adley said in a soft voice. “Yeah.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“What happened?” Adley asked in a curious tone. “If you don’t mind me asking.” Adley quickly added. “It’s okay. You’re good.” Y/N reassured him which made him relax. “It all started two months ago when my ex boyfriend kept accusing me of cheating on which I wasn’t and just after we celebrated our one year anniversary I caught him in bed with a girl who was at the time a good friend to me.” Y/N told him which broke his heart to hear. “Damn. That’s fucked up.” Adley said with a hint of anger in his voice. “Turns out he had been cheating on me for months and was just accusing me of cheating so I would break up with him.” Y/N said with a heavy sigh as she stared down at her hands that were resting on her lap. “What a dick move.” Adley said in disgust. “It was a fucking cowardly move.” Y/N added with another sigh.

“You don’t need people like that in your life.” Adley told her. “They didn’t deserve to have you in their life. Especially that douchebag.” Adley added which made her look up at him. “Really?” Y/N asked him. “Y/N, you are a beautiful and an amazing girl.” Adley started to tell her as they locked eyes. “The perfect guy is out there for you. He’s waiting for you and he’s going to make you forget all about that asshole.” Adley told her with a warm smile. “Thanks Adley, I’ll remember that.” Y/N said returning the smile.

Adley knew that he was talking about himself being the guy but he was wondering if Y/N knew that he was the one he was talking about.

———————————————

Ever since that night by the bomb fire Adley and Y/N have become so close that for the rest of her visit she always wanted to be around him and just talking to him. It made both of them sad when Y/N had to leave to go back to Alabama. Before Y/N got on her plane she promised that she’ll keep in touch with him.

Gunnar was driving his car with Adley in the passenger seat driving his car back to their house. “You have a feelings for Y/N, don’t you?” Gunnar asked him which took Adley by surprise. He didn’t know what to say so he just stayed quiet. “It’s okay if you do.” Gunnar told him with a reassuring smile which made Adley’s nerves relax. “Yeah, she’s just everything that I look for in a girl.” Adley told him. It felt so good for him to finally say this out loud to someone.

“I know my sister better than anyone so I know that she definitely feels the same way.” Gunnar told him giving him a quick glance. “But just because I’m your best friend doesn’t mean that I won’t kick your ass if you break her heart.” Gunnar added in a stern tone. Adley let out a small laugh. He knew that was coming. “You have my word cowboy.” Adley said looking at him. Gunnar couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Adley’s nickname he gave him.

[zalrb]

Here Is The Thing About Movies Now Vs. Then

There is a certain darkness to ‘90s movies, which is just not the trend right now and as a child of the ‘90s, I prefer the former.

So, for instance, Hocus Pocus 1993 starts with the witches murdering a child by sucking her life force

like they dance in front of her corpse because they’re younger

her older brother failed to save her

and calls the sisters hags and so his punishment is to live forever as a cat so he can always remember his guilt for not saving his little sister

and when the mob from the village comes to burn them, they hide the dead child under a blanket while yelling that they aren’t witches

it’s HILARIOUS because it’s SO dark but also slapstick just like when they’re about to be hanged, the boy’s parents just want to know what happened to their son 

and she makes a joke

Like, if you think about it that’s pretty fucked up.

This Hocus Pocus starts with Winnie not wanting to marry a boy and setting some houses on fire

In the original movie when it’s current day, Max and Dani are being hassled  and get their candy stolen

Max gets merked

Thackery is murdered but then comes back to life because he’s an immortal human in a cat’s body

they kidnap Dani

like it’s a Halloween movie.

Hocus Pocus 2 is a movie that happens to take place on Halloween. There’s an undercooked storyline about friendship and an obligatory heavy-handed lesson about being sensitive to others’ differences with a dash of the power of sisterhood at the end. There are, like, one or two cool visuals and some atmospheric shots

but overall it’s very safe and very sanitary. It’s like what they did with Aladdin. From two other posts of mine:

So I watched the “A Whole New World” clip for the Live Action Aladdin

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and I get that the live action isn’t going to be the exact same as the cartoon but one of the things that I really loved about the original animation is the dark sense of humour. So before Aladdin takes Jasmine on the carpet ride, I kind of love that Jasmine thought Aladdin killed himself because she told him to jump off a balcony

and the fact that they changed that is unsurprising but still has me like, eh.

[..] and one of my favourite parts of the animated version is that when they’re on top, we see Jafar and Iago humiliate the people, namely Jasmine

and the sultan, who they thought looked down upon and humiliated them, which included Iago shoving crackers down the sultan’s throat.

I do understand that the above scene might be considered too dark (it’s probably why I love it so much) but this Iago is just a parrot that literally did not need to be there.

Or it’s like the original Jumanji, I answered an ask about why I considered the original dark and the full post is here but an excerpt:

imagine being a kid who watches her friend being sucked into a game and then is chased out of the house by bats

And no one believes you when you explain that your friend is gone because he was sucked into a game so then you have to go to therapy to convince yourself that what you saw was impossible because it technically is impossible and you even change your name because you don’t want to be associated with ANYTHING about that night because it was the night you saw your friend get sucked into a GAME but then he comes back twenty years later and asks you to continue playing that game and you legitimately think you’re having a psychotic episode

and then you have the remake --- and don’t get me wrong I absolutely adored the first instalment of the remake, Jack Black was hilarious --- where, like, yeah you can potentially die in the game if you lose all of your lives but there aren’t really any nuances or implications that make you go, that’s pretty fucked up once you think about them, it’s just a fun movie

which is, I mean it is what it is but I definitely finished Hocus Pocus 2 thinking it left no impression

[shrinkthisviolet]

It's Love Letters Night! Send love and positivity to your favorite writers and bloggers!

This got really long so I’m sticking it under a cut 😅:

@negative-speedforce you are absolutely amazing. I love your posts and fics, I love Siv, and I love how much you love Nora (your fic about both versions of Nora sharing a name and the ✨insecurity✨ that would cause lives in my head RENT-FREE) and!! You’re an Iris and Reva defender just like me!! 🥰

@vexic929 you’re so amazing and fun to talk to! You have such wacky off-the-wall ideas and you make them work so well and I love you for it 💞 Malcolm, Berrie, and Beth in particular are so dear to me, and so are their fics!

@goldheartedchaoticdisaster you’re so fun to talk to, especially the OUAT stuff lately 🥰 I also always appreciate seeing your comments on my fics, they’re always long and wonderful and you’re just a delight. I can’t wait to see how you write Rowan, I love Nicky and Stephanie, I love your characterization of Mike Barnes and his family (canon to me!! Everyone read “bad boy (no more)”, it’s so good), and your CK Mini-Rewrites? *chefs kiss* you should’ve written the show

@angst-is-love-angst-is-life you pulled me into my current whump fixation headfirst 😂 I love reading through the whump prompts on your sideblog (@whump-is-love-whump-is-life, for anyone who wants to check it out), and I love talking to you 🥰 you also make me cry with how much you hurt Barry in Trophy and 12 hours, but I respect the whumpy endeavors

@fezwearingjellybananas you’re such a delight 🥰 you pulled me into Snowest with “Milk and Sugar”, your fics are so fun to read (and often a niche/novel premise), and I love seeing your sweet comments on my fics! I also so love the cycle of inspiration we’re in 😂 (for context, they got inspired by my Morgan AU to write Speedster Siblings, which (along with Gone in a Flash) then inspired me to write my Daddy Issues AU)

@starstruckpurpledragon (aka @kitkatt0430), you are wonderful and amazing and you’ve written so many amazing fics and meta for this fandom!! You have great takes, super interesting ideas…and you’re so wonderful to talk to. You also (along with @alittleflashvibe) pulled me into Saverb with “You Must Live (For Me)” 😂 much appreciated for that

@alittleflashvibe you are a delight and incredible and your Barrisco takes are such a highlight of this webbed site 💞 you always get me to see something new in their scenes, it’s terrific. You also pulled me into shipping Barrisco in general 😂 (you and @starstruckpurpledragon, as I mentioned above)

@frosty-the-killer-doll hiii I know we don’t talk a lot but I just wanted you to know you’re incredible and I love your takes on Caitlin and Frost—you’ve gotten me to see them both in new ways (that web weaving post about how Frost’s instinct to protect was corrupted by vengeance?? That was inspired, and it’s only one of your many great takes about her and Caitlin!). I also love love LOVE the Jesse fic you wrote, it’s like you read my mind fr 💞 love having you as my mutual

@icedteaandoldlace you’re so wonderful too! I’ve loved following along with your comments as you read my Morgan AU…and you’ve given me such a wonderful appreciation for Kamilla and Kamisco. Your Kamilla & Caitlin friendship fic is so sweet and I love it to pieces

@blackaquokat where to even begin 😅 we’ve been mutuals for like…what, years now? I don’t even remember how it started, but I DO remember your WKM fics and how incredible they are 🥰 your OC for the DA is absolutely how I view them, and your fics are so canon to me, you deserve all the love for crafting such a meticulous world from the pieces Mark gave us.

@seek--rest your fics are OUT OF THIS WORLD and so are your takes!! You’re one of my favorite Spidey fic authors (and that’s a very short list 😂), you’ve gotten me to see him and MJ in such incredible new ways (Irondad but make it MJ!! Ingenious!!), and you have great takes overall (your post-Blip meta my beloved!!), here and in the discord. You also wrote the May & Sally fic of my DREAMS!! Some people might call you an “absolute displeasure to know”, but I couldn’t disagree more, you’re wonderful 💞

@abcd-em on the note of “Irondad but make it MJ”, Vagary lives in my head rent-free 💞 you’ve written PeterMJ in so many wonderful ways, but that in particular really sticks with me. And you’re such a sweet person in general

@hollow-dweller speaking of great takes…hollow you’re practically oozing with them, here and on the discord. I always come away learning something, and you just have so many amazing thoughts?? Also I keep thinking about the Peter & Jessica fic you wrote like…oh my god?? Inspired?? I must applaud you 👏👏

@robbyykeene your CK takes are so incredible, you’re the first account I go to for them, I love reading your posts. You’re so right 💞

@leohttbriar i adore your fics! Your Samtory ones live in my head rent-free, and so does “for what do we live (but to make sport for our neighbours)” like!! You Get It!! You Get Penelope and Charlotte!!

@jenpsaki I can hardly talk about Samtory and not mention you, when you’re the one who pulled me into this ship with “different but same” 🥰 and thank you so very much for that

@arrthurpendragon you are a key pillar of the OC community and so wonderful 🥹 thank you for hosting that exchange event back in July of last year, it pulled me into the OC community and I’m so grateful for it

@lady-of-the-spirit you’re delightful to talk to, you have great takes for pretty much everything (ESPECIALLY Star Wars), I love Hestia, and I’ve never seen HOTD but I love how passionate you are about Alicent 💞

@basimibnishaqs speaking of having great takes about Star Wars…🥰 Rey & Luke being father and daughter especially, I LOVE your posts on the subject. And this fic you wrote about them!! An AU ofc but so very sweet to me 💞

@practically-an-x-man you and I are fairly new to being mutuals but I love having you as one 💞 still chugging through the Ophelia fic, but I love it so far! And ofc as I mentioned before, you write AMAZING whump (as shown in this incredible fic!)

@azaablue your ATLA fics are out of this world, but “beautiful boy” and “Push and Pull” in particular always sticks with me 💞 all the kudos in the world, you Get It, and you’re so wonderful. A gem in the ATLA fandom

@calliopieces your Maiko fics are a GEM in The ATLA fandom, especially “crowning glory” 💞 you just Get Mai and her family situation, and especially Fire Nation girlhood, and I love this fic so much for it

[bird-inacage]

CALL ME BY FIRE (SEASON 3): Participation of Jeff Satur

Now this has been the most uncanny crossover I never saw coming. A show I've been watching for years, and my introduction to thai BL which initially put Jeff's name on my radar. Here's some context for any fans who have heard of his participation and want to know more.

Call Me by Fire is a mainland Chinese TV competition show. They invite 33 established male celebrities with the goal to form an ultimate "boy band" by the show's conclusion. What tends to be the incredible pulling factor is they'll invite a combination of singers, musicians, actors, dancers, idols, presenters - incredibly well known faces in the industry - many of them hugely respected OGs in their field. (The demographic is usually late 20s+) so there's an intentional sense of maturity, experience and wisdom amongst the ensemble. The emphasis isn't really on forming this 'fictional' boy band, it acts as a mechanism for us to get more up close and personal with these artists. Allowing viewers to appreciate their creative genius, as well as who they are as people.

This show came as a spin off of another series 'Sisters Who Make Waves' which has the exact same premise but for female celebrities. Because it became such an instant hit, they made a male version shortly after.

As a Chinese speaker, I've been watching both shows since they started in 2020. Both are in their third season (with Call Me by Fire broadcasting right now). This year they've decided to include more participants (of mainly Chinese/Asian descent) from America, Korea, Japan, Vietnam and Thailand - along with the majority from China, Hong Kong and Taiwan.

Why I find this show both incredibly entertaining and compelling is because you get to watch spectacular collaborations between some of the most talented artists of this generation, and witness them embark on a journey of brotherhood through a shared love for performance (they live, work and perform together for the duration of the show). For me, theres also a massive nostalgia factor, because a large portion of these artists will be people I grew up watching.

There will be a lot of new attention on this show due to the Jeff's involvement (whose dubbed ‘Luo Jie Fu’ in Chinese). We’re only on Episode 2, and he's already making a huge impression, earning one of two MVPs spots after their first live performance - his group ranking 2nd out of 8, and his personal ranking being 7th overall (based on the live audience popularity vote).

The show is uploaded onto Youtube in full (post-broadcast on a Saturday). Just to warn you, the episodes are usually very, very long (sometimes between 2-3 hours in total), but I personally really enjoy that. There are English subtitles but the translations don’t always capture the nuances.

Jeff is doing a superb job so far and he's very brave for taking this on. He brings something distinctly unique in his showmanship and personal sense of style. It's a daunting prospect for someone who can't speak or understand Chinese, but the other brothers are doing their best to help him feel as welcome and settled in as possible.

If anyone has any questions about the show or clips featuring Jeff they'd like to know more about, I'm more than happy to translate.

[docholligay]

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Thank you @becauseforoncethisisme for sponsoring this! Regulars know this, but if you're new here, all opinions are mine and it's fine to disagree with me, but please don't get weird about it.

Nonspoilery: 

Good God in high heaven and low hell, this is so much better than the first book. This is both a personal and professional opinion.  The only problem with it being, I cannot in good conscience tell anyone to read the first book in order to get to the second. I don’t think it’s so good as to justify that. That’s a pretty tall order. In all, though, if you read Gideon the Ninth and thought, “Hm. Okay, that’s enough for now,” this might whet your whistle a little bit more. 

Spoilery: 

Wow did I like this better than Gideon, you were all so right and it does not bother me even one solitary bit to say so. I think it starts slow, and I don’t know that I really ever connected with the second person bits--once I figured out what it meant, i wanted it to be confirmed and stop-- and of course Muir’s style occasionally grates on me (Muir and I are the same age. I know we grew up in the same fandom environment, and part of the reason I know that is I recognize elements of her style from fanfics being written then as now. This is stuff from like, sporking days. She’s so talented, and so loves these strange, memey asides even in lovely moments. That being said, i think this book strikes a much, much better balance with that and there were even times I found it fun, so, things are improving) But overall I would say I liked this book just fine, and would consider reading it again on some winter night. LEAPS AND BOUNDS over my experience of GtN

I struggled so hard with the first 150 pages or so of this book. I think it was a combination of how little I remembered from the first book, the taste the first book left in my mouth, and the fact that I am just, too stupid for high-concept fantasy. So all the stuff about thanergy and thelergy and conversion, I just, sat there not possible caring less about any of it. I don’t care now, and I came away liking the book! This is for someone, certainly, but I am not it. If this hadn’t been a commission, I think I would have given up at a certain point. I usually give a book 100 pages and this wouldn’t have done it for me*

At the end of the day, I think one of the things this book can be about--for me, it’s about more than one thing, but this is the easy reach--is about grief. And how being willing to give yourself a Fantasy Lobotomy, if that’s what it takes, to avoid the hurt and loss that grief brings in, and the guilt, only ends up hurting yourself and everyone around you. 

Also, it doesn’t bring them back. Forgetting them in every way possible does nothing to bring them back. Now, Harrow is a special case, so for her it can’t only be about avoiding pain, because what she’s also doing, because of how the whole Lyctorhood thing works, is, in a sense, keeping Gideon on life support. Like is said later in the book, shoving her in a drawer she can’t open, but so long as the drawer is never opened, Gideon is alive. It’s Harrow living her entire life in the doorway where where a policeman stands, ready to tell you someone you loved is dead, and she won’t let him speak. Because it’s not true until he does. 

I like Harrow so much more in this one by virtue of the fact that this book cares so much less if we like or forgive her. Because of the way it works with perspective, and the way it’s trying not to tip its hand to the fact that Gideon is our second-person narrator, we get a much more neutral version of Harrow’s life 

How Lyctors work: Love it. What a choice. My favorite takeaway from the first book, and perhaps the only thing I still think about actively while lying in bed at night, is the necromancer-cavalier system. I think it is fantastic, I love it, it works perfectly for imagining all shades of relationship and is very fun to do to your blorbim. I can’t remember if we found this out so explicitly at the end of the first book--as I said in an aside post while I was reading HtN, the pool scene in GtN pissed me off so much that I had a rage blackout for much of the book and forgot it the second I wrote about it--but the idea that the necromancer can only become this sort of ultimate power by killing this person they, by necessity, have some level of intimate bond with? Exceptional. I love that they are, in a sense, protected and powered by a person who loved them, that they murdered. I am so unbelievably into this idea, and the idea of those who can DO this, and who can’t. Reeled me back to my blorbos all over again. 

Which of course makes the whole thing with Harrow so interesting, because Harrow is someone who can’t deal with the cost of it. In full fairness to her, it wasn’t a choice she got to make, but she certainly does Gideon’s memory no honor by refusing to even acknowledge her sacrifice. She’s spitting on the roast lamb on the altar, so to speak. It’s sort of the murdered children problem all over again, though a million times better done: If an impossible sacrifice is made for you, what do you do to earn it? It’s Saving Private Ryan, and you have to spend your whole life hoping you earned a sacrifice someone made without your consent. And you should! What will you do, to earn your place? I know, i know, we all hate that except for me, but if Gideon died to make you a demigod, earn your power, and take your responsibility. 

Ianthe: I love a good horrible, manipulative cunt, and Ianthe certainly is that. This isn’t even me joking, she’s one of my favorite characters in the book (Though not my absolute favorite)  and also my poster child for “I support women’s wrongs.” I think it’s so smart and great that at the end, Ianthe makes the wrong choice, and that you are sitting there screaming for her not to do that, and yet when she does it, it feels completely correct. Of course this is a thing that she both can and would do. Ianthe is about hedging her bets, and above all else, about Ianthe. She killed Naberius as soon as she figured out the deal. We get the sense that she feels…i’m not sure how I want to say this…it’s not that she doesn’t feel about it, but she feels inevitable about it, also. To her, there was no other choice. 

She is willing to help Harrow destroy herself, shut herself off, because Ianthe loves a good “you fucking owe me” but also because other than how it benefits or hurts her, what the fuck does she care? I love her, it’s how I wish I could write Minako if I could get away with it. She’s clever and fun and terrible. I think she’s also, narratively, a great balance for Harrow’s whole ‘That girl in homeroom in an Invader Zim hoodie” vibe. 

Mercymorn my beloved: If Ianthe is my poster child for, “I support women’s wrongs” than Mercymorn is my ‘tag yourself.’ The longer the book when on, the more I liked her because the more I understood her. As an old lady who has been a part of things for many years, who has seen them grow and fall apart, who has lost people I loved and worked with people I hate, I loved everything about her. I love how utterly done she is with the whole thing. The way she so clearly loved Cristabel, and how she reacts to the pain of that love in a way I understand, and didn’t realize how clearly I understood her until Mercymorn killed the Emperor. Then it all hit at once, I remember that moment pretty early on in the book where it mentions that is you say Cristabel’s name to Mercymorn, she reacts like she’s stung. The way she yells at Harrow to never use her name with her, filled with rage. That is a kind of grief I recognize. I don’t want to talk about it and i’ll fucking kill you if you remind me. 

I felt every ounce of hurt, a plucking of a twin string, when she said, “This is the chance for unloveable Mercymorn--critical Mercymorn--to show you that she is the most capable of her name.” 

And then she kills the emperor. Do I think he was sorry? Do I think he never wanted any harm to come to Cristabel**? Does Mercymorn think that? It doesn’t fucking matter. Whether he feels bad about it or not, it’s academic at best. She murdered Cristabel because a man she trusted, a man she took to be her God, lied to her about it. He told her she, to save the world, had to give up a person she adored. Had to do it herself. I, too, would rip him atom from atom, if I were Mercymorn***. Maybe she does forgive him, but only because he is about to make repentance in blood. 

She’s my favorite character in the whole fucking book, bar none. 

(On that note, sort of, I actually came to very much love Augustine.)

Oh! One thing I loved, so much, and I don’t think anyone I’ve seen say anything even offhandedly about the book, is during the fight with the Sleeper, how Ortus’ BELIEF and PASSION form the basis to call up Mattias Fucking Nonius. Is that not incredible? That faith, can be so strong, that Abigail could call up a man that none of them ever knew, who is basically an idea more than a man, to fight? I think it’s such a lovely little lesson tucked in there, because we have been making fun of Ortus’ belief system for the entire book, mocking the way he recites this, and in the end, his deeply held belief matters, it matters so much, and I adored that as a real reversal of mocking someone faithful. 

I think part of the underlying problem with GtN is I just don’t like Gideon. I don’t like her point of view, I don’t like her character voice, I don’t like her general vibe, and the narrative does like her, and wants you to like her. In this book, it’s fine because so much of it is not from her perspective, but it became pretty clear to me that so much of what I disliked (though not all) of the first book was a Gideon-based problem. And you can’t escape her in the first book. 

This all flew immediately back to me when Gideon is taking up Harrow’s body and also the narrative duties. I cannot stand her character voice. Muir is capable of being so smart and so beautiful in her prose, but not only is Gideon herself irritating, but she inspires Muir to do this…recitation of memes, the one I can think of off the top of my head is “Jail for mother” Tamsyn i will fucking kill you. I will not read Nona, because the back page tells me, threateningly, that Gideon will be back in Nona, and not only can i not handle reading another word from her, but also that will unmake the beauty of telling Harrow that she has to let Gideon go, that she has to let them become one and thus lose Gideon, because of course it does because it’s a fantasy book, and fantasy just Does This A Lot. Stop letting people come back! Kill these motherfuckers and leave them dead! 

The thing about Pyrrha and Wake having an affair with Gideon’s body, and wake having God’s baby in order to open the locked tomb, it’s such a weird aside in a weird moment, that I can see I am going to forget about it. It’s so strange! I mean, it explains why Gideon didn’t die when she was supposed to, and I don’t have a problem with it per se, but I also don’t know that I have any feelings about it other than, ‘hm. Strange.” 

In all: Not a bad book! Enjoyed it more as the book went on, Mercymorn for Lyfe. I hope Ianthe continues being the world’s sexiest and worst person. 

Did you want to ask me something? As long as you’re not a dick about it, ask away! Let’s have fun. 

*I suppose that’s my own personal de jure vs de facto, because truthfully I can’t remember the last time I straight up did not finish a book. Perhaps I’m just lying to myself. I dnf shows and movies all the time, but not books. 

** No, I don’t think that. 

***Although I’m actually not all that sure in my marriage if I’m the necro. I think I’m actually the cavalier. I don’t think Jill would feel a whole lot of patience over having murdered me either, though.

[cheesecakeluvrs]

One Piece live action SaNami analysis

So first off I loved the Opla! I liked how they didn’t stay completely true to the manga and stretched out a bit. Some of the changes I did like, like the stuff they did with the Baratie but I didn’t like a whole bunch of the stuff that they did to Nami’s past and Cocoyashi village. Also normally I’m not a big Koby fan but this actually made me like him. When it came to shipping they definitely delivered, there was obviously Usopp and Kaya but we also got some good Nami and Zoro stuff, even though I don’t ship them I still think it was nice. Overall I think it’s a little over hyped for the time being but still a great watch.

Ok onto SaNami

So Sanji wasn’t in a whole lot of it and they also cut out some parts that had good sanami scenes but I want to specifically talk about 4 scenes.

So first off is the scene that they meet and where Sanji flirts with her. This was super funny (especially Luffy getting milk) but I want to talk mainly after when they are teasing her. So after Sanji leaves they are all teasing Nami about how Sanji treated her but Usopp also makes a joke saying “ooh Nami’s got a boyfriend”. Which I know per usual I’m looking too much into the sanami stuff but I feel like they could’ve also had them just making fun of Sanji but no, they had them joke at them being romantic partners. I don’t think it’s suggesting anything, I just think it’s funny how they went that direction.

This next one is the one I found the most interesting. So after Nami finds out about Arlong being at the Baratie she goes to where Sanji is? Was she talking to him about it? I don’t think this is the case because he looked shocked and immediately started to go over there once he found out that the Baratie was in trouble but she also just could’ve told him everything but that? I may be just misunderstanding this scene but why did she go in there first instead of just going straight to Luffy? Were they talking? Who knows

The next two will be less analytical but poor Sanji :( he just wanted a hug. This is probably just because she doesn’t know Sanji very well yet but I hope if they make a season two (which with the success of this first one Netflix will probably push for it but I don’t know if Oda will approve) then they will explore Sanji and Nami’s relationship more and how he turns into the protector we know today.

And lastly is the scene we saw in the One Piece inside the story but sadly we didn’t get the full body version, just them zoomed in. More of Sanji and Nami being touchy, typical.

Overall we didn’t get a lot of sanami but I was happy with what we got and I think if they make another season we’ll be getting a lot more because they’re exploring the relationships between the strawhats a lot more. I believe that a second season may reveal what Oda is trying to do with Sanji and Nami.

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapter 2

Atsushi 's entrance exam, a test of will

[BSD 001] [Masterpost]

This chapter is about Atsushi’s entrance exam, which is basically the test of his will and whether he has the moral compass necessary to join the Armed Detective Agency. 

Also, personal sidenote: It’s really funny to read this chapter with the full knowledge that everything about it is completely staged. 

Anyway, we start with one of Dazai’s infamous suicide attempts.

Please excuse the watermarks on some of the pages/panels I provide. The online version of the manga that's easily accessible to me has these watermarks and I’m not going to remove them, nor do I know how to. 

I’d like to take a moment here to explain the difference between something being “silly” and “absurd,” because BSD toes the line of this a lot, and I think this is a good example. Silly is more lighthearted and just plain stupid, whereas absurd is something just plain illogical or insensible. Dazai getting himself stuck in the oil barrel while attempting suicide is silly in of itself, but this becomes absurd when he explains that he wishes to die painlessly.

This is because of the fact that while it’s technically possible to die painlessly and even commit suicide painlessly, it kind of goes against what we consider to be logical or normal. Death and pain live in the same family in our brains, so, therefore, Dazai wanting to die and consistently attempting to take his own life but not wanting to deal with the pain of it is kind of absurd. 

It’s the hypocritical nature of Dazai’s suicidality that lends to absurdity, especially because it’s sort of a “boy who cried wolf” situation (Dazai explains that his coworkers don’t come to save him anymore because of the number of times he has attempted, and even treat him callously when he tries to ask for help). While I’m not a huge fan of this trait of his and how others respond to it because of the lack of sensitivity it’s handled with (especially earlier in the story), I do think it plays into the overall theme. Asagiri’s intention likely wasn’t to make light of suicide or the fact that Dazai’s irl counterpart succeeded in taking his own life, but rather to emphasize the absurdity of such behavior within the framework of absurdist storytelling. That being said, this can also co-exist with the fact that a lot of manga Dazai’s suicide jokes are really insensitive, to say the least.

Anyway, Atsushi helps him (begrudgingly), and they head towards the agency, where Tanizaki is pretending to be a bomber, threatening to blow the place to bits unless he is brought the president of the agency. When Kunikida tries to approach him, he “recognizes” him as an agency member due to his “grudge” against the organization and threatens him. It’s then decided that Atsushi should go out to confront the bomber since he wouldn’t be recognized as an agency member. 

I’m going to pause here and take this opportunity to explain the difference between absurdism and nihilism. While it's true that both philosophies contend that life is inherently meaningless, the difference lies in what we do with this information. The nihilist believes that because life has no purpose, it cannot be found under any circumstances and therefore you can basically do whatever you want. Life is what you make it, essentially. The absurdist believes that in order to find meaning, one must both embrace life’s inherent absurdity and use it as a means to fight back against it. 

So with that context in mind, Atsushi basically tries to tell Tanizaki that there’s meaning in life, to which Tanizaki responds “It’s better if everyone dies!” Atsushi then goes on a self-deprecating ramble, but still ends it with “but I’m desperately trying to live!” 

Essentially, Tanizaki is playing the part of the nihilist here (it doesn’t matter if I and everyone here die), while Atsushi is presenting an absurdist argument (my life sucks, but I’m still trying, regardless). 

And then we get the most important part of the entrance exam: Atsushi throwing himself on top of the bomb. 

I know I talked about suicide being something that absurdists hate in my chapter 1 post, but I will note here that I think context matters! Dazai’s suicidality is different than Atsushi trying to sacrifice himself, because for Atsushi it’s a last-ditch effort to save everyone. 

Realistically, would his body be enough to dampen the explosion? Probably not, but what matters is that he did the “idiotic” (read: absurd) thing, and tried anyway. He didn’t give up hope that he could do something to protect everyone in that room, despite barely knowing any of them. 

Luckily for Atsushi, it’s all fake, and this was a test of his will, basically. Fukuzawa and Tanizaki are formally introduced and he gets offered a job at the Armed Detective Agency… which he basically can’t turn down because otherwise he’s completely penniless. So, Dazai has kind of trapped him there by wanting to hire him, which I think is kind of funny. 

And thus ends the second chapter! As I mentioned in the previous post, I might not be doing one chapter at a time like this as I go, but for some of these earlier, establishing chapters, it feels necessary. I’ll be considering it on a case-by-case basis, pretty much. 

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to reply or send asks, I love talking about this stuff :)

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[spencethebence]

Vee Doll Version 1!

This is the first doll I’ve actually finished. I'd like to talk about my process, because I’ve learned a lot going through with it! 

I was very much inspired by the doll making of @strangegutz I’d been wanting to try and make my own for the longest time. I had also picked up a custom Harpy Eda doll from thecosmicdolls on etsy, so I really wanted to give it a try on my own.

I started with the head using super sculpey and painting it afterwards. It’s the first time I’ve used super sculpey instead of colored sculpey. It's sooo much easier than trying to mix color through combining clay. I like the sculpt I did, but I did it before I even had an idea what I’d do with the body. I used craft paper for the hair, a method it used for the other doll I never finished, and overall I think it turned out well. I like the cartoon-y look the paper gives the definition of the hair but it was a process to figure out how to fold and glue it into the shapes I like. For the facial features I also used pieces of paper with sticky tack so I could change the expressions if I wanted to.

The body is made out of floral wire and foam, and the clothes are made from thrifted shirt fabric, a ripped pair of jeans and GI Joe boots. The process of making the underbody was a big learning experience for me. My first body I twisted the floral wire around a ton thinking I needed it to have a sturdy base, I realized it didn’t really need to have as much support as I thought with the wire especially if I’m the only one posing it, I can take my time to make it look the best. So the next step was gluing together a bunch of pieces of foam in the shape of the body that I was just going to shove a wire through, I spent a while trying to make the under body shape as perfect as I could, but when I finally went on to make the clothes I learned something important, the shape of the underbody didn’t matter too much, the only thing that really matters for body shape is how the fabric is sewn. The first shirt I did was way too small, but luckily I did the sleeves separate from the shirt because it would be easier to put them on the doll, so I didn’t have to remake those. 

My biggest take away from this all is something simple and obvious but is still something that’s always been hard for me to do. If I do something wrong, if something doesn’t turn out right, It’s GOOD to go back and do it again and do it right! Duh right? Well, I’ve always been really stubborn when it comes to art, the steps I look forward too are never the ones I’m actually working on at the moment it feels like so I’m always rushing ahead, living with my mistakes and skipping over refinement. Sometimes it’s okay to take shortcuts, and your art can never be perfect of course, but it took a lot of willpower for me to follow through and redo parts of this doll and it really helped overall. The arms and legs were all individual parts at first, and this made it so difficult to dress and work with it. I took a step back, thought it over and refined it, redoing the arms and legs with a single long piece of foam for each that was easy to get the fabric over. This solidified the process for me, because I took the time to redo it. I've set myself up to work better next time. 

I will be very honest, I don’t think this doll is that good, there’s a ton of things I think are off about it, I feel like the head style doesn’t make the rest of the doll. The proportions are off all over the place, and my sewing skills are still pretty mid after all these years. BUT I’ve never been prouder of myself actually following through and finishing and learning something from this process. I’ve figured out a lot of the process and I really want to go through and make another version of it.

[sparklyshakespeare]

Do you have any Shakespeare opinions (popular or unpopular) that you would like to share? I would love to hear them!!

OOOO GOSH hm well overall i think people need to be a lot less precious about shakespeare and take it a lot less seriously not in a like “maybe the wallpaper is just yellow” way but in a “no form of theatre is inherently more meaningful or sophisticated than any other” way!! so tired of people acting like “shakespeare acting” is somehow more difficult or brilliant or valid than “musical theatre acting” babe acting is acting!!!

1. i think brutalism and minimalism in terms of set design is FAR too overdone and honestly it’s a really uninteresting choice. it’s getting to the point where it feels like the nudist theatre movement of the 90s. like your show isn’t ✨✨super subversive and groundbreaking✨✨ just because you don’t have a set same way your play, 90s playwrights, was not super subversive and groundbreaking just because you had people get naked onstage

2. written lyrics should always be set to modern/easily recognizable songs

3. this is a GIVEN but like EVERYYYYY single one of Shakespeare’s works should be played as an IMMERSIVE EXPERIENCE. if you’re doing Shakespeare and there’s a fourth wall you’re doing it wrong

4. this is more of a general complaint but i HAAAAATEEEE method acting/directing!! ew ew ew!!

5. more sapphics in Shakespeare always.

6. national theatre’s 2019 midsummer is like the only version of midsummer forever to me. it’s brilliant. PLEASE watch it!!!!

7. STOP trying to justify why don john is Like That. i’ve seen productions that make him a woman to try and explain it away with like all the other characters being misogynistic to him?? i’ve seen productions that have his actor play him as very very gay (which like he is but anyways) to try and explain it away with like all the other characters being homophobic to him???? you’re just making EVERY OTHER character unlikable!! the point of don john is he is a messy messy person who lives for drama and is just kind of awful. as is his right. you don’t need to try and other him to justify that

8. role doubling as a plot device always

9. i think it’s time to start reinterpreting the way that we view horatio. i am NOT saying that hamlet and horatio aren’t in love that is a well established fact that is fabulous and sparkly!! i AM saying that i’m tired of seeing the exact same version of horatio in every single production of hamlet i see. we all have SUCH a set view of who that characters is that i think it’s become a little bit tooooo set in stone - i want to see a different interpretation of horatio!! make him mean!! make him dumb!! make him angry!! make him fabulous!!

10. more fem edmunds (🏳️‍🌈)

11. if you are going to do guns in shakespeare…you need to be really careful about the way you do it or else it’s going to look incredibly stupid

12. cast all of the hamlet teens as actual teenage actors.