#this is partly just an excuse to share music i like but these songs really do fit the muses

[hc-ic]

So because I'm basic and don't listen to much music, I haven't really put together music playlists for my OCs or anything

But sometimes I find music and it just works, and this week I discovered the Guilty Gear Strive soundtrack and uh...

Pyptil (bonus points because that move at 1:11 is definitely something she'd do in a fighting game)

Tumela (bonus points because dude is a fire user)

Maxi

[quitealotofsodapop]

The crew listens to Epic: the Musical.

MK's favorite song is Legendary.

Wukong identifies with Just a Man (not that he'll admit it).

Macaque likes Ruthlessness because he's an emo little stinker.

Sandy likes Open Arms (of course).

Tang and Red Son like Warrior of the Mind.

Pigsy really thinks the monkeys should take Luck Runs Out to heart.

Mei likes Keep Your friends close (a fun bop that belies danger underneath, just like her).

I have to be careful binging a new muscial (or in this case Saga) cus I end up playing each song on loop for hours. Opinions might change once the full and finished versions of later sagas are released.

I love all these hcs <3

Im imagining the gang likely sees/listens to Epic on the reccomendation of MK (who's currently on a Greek Mythology hyperfixation), and he gets them all to watch the full play - maybe in the future as a irl performance or film.

"Legendary" is SUCH an MK song. Both him and Telemachus growing up with the stories of someone dear to them and wanting to replicate their success. I could also see him really liking "Warrior of the Mind" with the theme of "some nobody" gaining the favor of a god (reminds you of anyone?) + SWK is infamously the personification of The Mind in Jttw so its a bonus. MK is smiling evily whenever a harsh plot twist occurs and his fam are shocked silent. >:3

Sun Wukong feels targeted personally with how many of the Epic songs remind him of his past. Ofc he starts crying halfway through "Horse and the Infant", and is inconsolable during "Just A Man" - verbally yelling "NO!" at the end. And like Nezha and Sandy is *silent* during Posideon's songs. Is super jazzed during the triumphant Ithaca Saga though! And feels mega catharic during "King" when Odysseus proves that he still rules to the suitors! He tries his best to hide how much the muscial is affecting him.

Macaque is a canon theatre Nerd - so he's already listened to the musical multiple times, but he's uber excited to see the live performance (and secretly bond with his found fam). Is rocking out during "Ruthlessness" and "Done For" in particular, so much so that he's fidgeting and dancing within his seat. He also vibes with "No Longer You" as someone with powers of prophecy. Is really amazed how much Wukong gets into the musical, but in retrospect understands *why*. Him and Wukong accidentally share a glance during "Would You Fall In Love With Me Again" and it gets a little awkward afterwards.

Mei is similarly excited to see anything with her bestie, so she tried her best not hear/see any spoilers ("it's a centuries' old story Mei" "Ssssh!! Dont tell me!"). She was shooketh by how hard the muscial goes. "Keep Your Friends Close" is her fave based on beat alone. She gets delightedly scared and amazed by consistent horse imagery used with Posideon (shameless link to my fave Animatic of "Ruthlessness").

Tang loves himself some historical and mythological adaptations, and is estatic that MK has given him an excuse to go see one! He's not as familar with Hellenic mytholgy as he is with Hindu-Chinese, but he knows enough lore to make the pog-champ face at every foreshadowing/reference. "Warrior of the Mind" really gets to him as a song about valuing your smarts. He also feels really empathetic for Calypso.

Pigsy only went cus Tang begged him. He feels super lost by the deep Greek lore he's missing, but he can get Odysseus's whole thing with trying to get home - but he def identifies more with Eurylochus. "Luck Runs Out" proves this to him. Later on he feels that the second-in-command was justified in having the soldiers rebel against Odysseus after so many losses (who wouldn't after losing all their friends?). Audibly gasps at the end of "Just A Man" - cus who would just do that!? Is a little freaked out by Circe turning the Athenian's into pigs - Eurylochus is depicted as partly-transformed, played by a pig-demon actor who was in super convincing human makeup in the previous sagas. He also gets protective feelings by-proxy seeing Telemachus's situation since the prince reminds him of MK. Is surprised by how much he likes the musical!

Sandy feels betrayed. This isn't like Disney Hercules at all! He does really enjoy Polites message in "Open Arms" and the later moments when the hopeful soldier's outlook is proven correct. He's a little overwhelmed at points though - he get eerily quiet during Posideon's scenes. He sobs joyfully when Odysseus finally makes it home and reunites with his family! :')

Because of this really good animatic/almost child-like depiction of Aelous by gigi; I can def see "Keep Your Friends Close" being Nezha's fave. It reminds Nezha of when he was far more carefree + has a solid lesson on about trust/"forbidden fruit". He also enjoys the more march-like tune of "Survive". He does however, freeze when he listens to Posideon's songs "Ruthlessness" and "Get in the Water" - he has been on the bad end of a sea god before and is quietly shtting himself for Odysseus.

Red Son goes in feeling like he could have stayed at home listening to the musical on his phone while working on a car instead. He is however blown away by the heavy themes and performances, especially "Warrior of the Mind" and Telemachus's situation - a prince forced to grow up fatherless and protecting his mother from suitors due to his dad pissing off a higher power? Hello?? Accidentally shrieks "YES!!!" when Athena becomes Telemachus's mentor/friend after "Little Wolf".

Princess Iron Fan I could see loving any song including Penelope (she empathizes with the Queen's situation hard), but unexpectedly enjoys "Keep Your Friends Close" - she's a fellow Wind Goddess at her core. It also reminds her of her not-so-little-anymore nephew.

DBK on the flip side loves the heavier songs like "Polyphemus" and "Ruthlessness". This man is a Posedion apologist. He does feels bad for Odysseus by the end though - man just wants to get back to his wife and kid dammit!

Bonus: The Spider Gang are watching the bootleg and Spider Queen agrees with Circe's whole girlboss attitude especially "Puppeteer". Scorpion Queen is Calypso in "Not Sorry For Loving You".

This got a little away from me - hope you enjoy!

[hephaestuscrew]

"Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…": Minkowski's love of musical theatre and what it reveals about her characterisation and her relationships

TL;DR: Renée Minkowski's love of musicals, while it might seem just like a mundane character detail, is used to give depth to her character because it contrasts with expectations of her from both the listening audience and the other characters. Her willingness or unwillingness to share this interest in different circumstances reveals her relationships with other characters at various points. Since this is a long one, if you'd rather read it as a document, you can view it here: Google Doc version.

"She actually really cares about these talent shows": Episode 8 (Box 953)

In the early episodes of Season 1, Minkowski is presented (largely through Eiffel's unreliable perspective) purely as a strict no-nonsense authority figure without much emotional depth, the kind of person who only likes things that are useful, purposeful, or mandated by Command. In contrast, musical theatre is a creative pursuit that has nothing to do with the mission of the Hephaestus and is viewed by many people as fairly frivolous or silly. The gradual exploration of Minkowski's passion for musicals is one of the many ways that the show expands and challenges our understanding of her as a character. 

The first indication that we get of her interest in musicals is through her entry into the infamous talent show, something that is required as part of the mission. Minkowski really cares about 'crew morale' activities in general, even when they actually have a negative effect on morale and even before she's friends with any of her crew (for example, the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners in the earlier stage of the mission), perhaps partly because doing things in the "right way" is important to her. 

But Eiffel senses that the talent shows aren't just about rules for her: "it’s bad enough when she makes us do something just because it’s military protocol, but I think that she actually really cares about these talent shows". This might be the first indication that we get of Minkowski caring deeply about anything that isn't inherently part of her role as a Commander. Moments like this are part of the gradual process of giving us insight into her character beyond the Commander archetype that she tries to embody. And yet, she only indulges her theatrical passion because something mandatory gives her permission, or an excuse, to let another part of herself out.

Of course, to satisfy the needs of a talent show, she'd only need to provide a performance of a few minutes. But Eiffel mentions "the second act of the play" - which along with Hera's comment that "Isabel isn't the biggest role in the play" - implies that Minkowski was intending to put on the whole of Pirates of Penzance as her talent show act, rather than a few of the songs or some kind of medley. (I suppose that Eiffel could be exaggerating or Minkowski might have been planning to do extracts from different parts of the play, but I prefer the interpretation in which Minkowski gets to be more ridiculous.) 

Even though no one else would be willing to be in her production of Pirates of Penzance, Minkowski casts Hera as Isabel, a role with two lines and no solo singing. I found some audition notes for this play which said "The traditional staging gives [Isabel] more prominence than the solo opportunities of the part suggest, so she must be a good actress" which does make me sad in relation to Hera's inability to have a more significant role by being physically present on stage. 

It’s sweet that Hera still wants to take part though. She tells Eiffel "Pirates of Penzance is a classic of 19th century comic opera", so either she’s absorbed what Minkowski has told her about the show, or she’s done her own research and formed her own opinions. I enjoy the fact that Hera is the one Hephaestus crew member who shows potential to share Minkowski's musical theatre appreciation; I like to think that this is something they could explore together post-canon.

Anyway, I'm obsessed with the idea that Minkowski was planning to play every character except one in Pirates of Penzance, a show which is designed to have 10 principal characters and a chorus of 14 men. It seems that her contribution to the talent show was supposed to be an entire two-hour two-act musical, with costumes and props, in which she would play almost all of the parts. This is very funny to me as the perhaps predictable consequence of giving an ambitious and frustrated grown-up theatre kid a position of authority and asking them to arrange a talent show. Minkowski knows that the audience will be made up of her subordinates who are theoretically obliged by the chain of command to watch and listen, so she absolutely tries to make the most of that opportunity. There's probably also a degree to which she limits other people's involvement in her musical because - as with her other endeavors - she wants the outcome to be almost entirely within her control (something that is usually pretty much impossible in as collaborative a medium as musical theatre).

Of course, Minkowski's behaviour in most of the talent show episode is affected by her being drugged by Hilbert. This creates an exaggerated situation which is the first real opportunity for Minkowski to be something other than the strict sensible authoritarian Commander and the foil to Eiffel's jokey laid-back attitude. I don't agree with ideas that being intoxicated brings out anyone's true self (especially in the absence of consent for the intoxication), but it seems pretty clear that being under the influence of whatever was in Hilbert's concoction caused Minkowski to fully commit to a level of manic enthusiasm for her musical production that might have otherwise been obscured by her professionalism. It's a particular kind of person who belts showtunes when drunk, and Minkowski is that kind of person, even if that's not how she wants to present herself. (As a sidenote, I seem to remember that they took Emma Sherr-Ziarko's script off her to help her sound more drunk. It's an excellent performance.)

Minkowski wants interval ice cream. She wants "pirate costumes" (and she'll threaten to shoot a man to get them). She wants "swashes and buckles". She wants whatever props she can get her hands on (including a real cannon). This show is important to her, even though only three other people will witness it and two of them actively don't want to be there. It’s important to her for its own sake.

Eiffel says Minkowski wants "a second pair of eyes to tell her if the prop sabre for her Major-General costume was a bit much…"  While I certainly wouldn't put it past Goddard Futuristics to have a prop sabre on the station for no apparent reason, it feels more likely that she might have made it or adapted some existing item. Which suggests that maybe she was that passionate about the props even before Hilbert drugged her. 

Even so, it does feel significant that Minkowski's love of musicals is only revealed in the episode in which she is drugged, exhibiting lowered inhibitions, exaggerated behaviour, and an "impaired euphoric effect". Her love of musical theatre is initially revealed through a professional structure that provides permission, and then further emphasised by a forced intoxication that exaggerates some impulses that perhaps she already had.

"Some hobbies other than making trains run on time": Episode 17 (Bach to the Future)

After Eiffel tells to find Minkowski to find something else to do while her work duties have quietened down, they have the following exchange:

EIFFEL: You must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time. Something to do with friends? Boyfriends? MINKOWSKI: Of course I do, but, well, there aren't really a lot of opportunities for rock climbing or trail hiking in the immediate vicinity. 

Even though this quote doesn't mention musicals, I've included it here for two reasons. Firstly, it's very funny to me that, even after the talent show debacle, Eiffel acts like he's never had any evidence of Minkowski's hobbies. She tried to perform a whole play almost single-handedly and it didn't occur to him that this might indicate an interest of hers outside of work. I think this reflects the fairly two-dimensional view that Eiffel has previously had of Minkowski, which her interest in musical theatre didn't fit into. 

Secondly, it feels notable that Minkowski doesn't mention musical theatre here. She wants to show that she has non-work interests, but without undermining her own authoritative image. Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking - while it may be genuine - fits with how she wants to be seen as a Commander. These are hobbies which portray her as physically capable, with a high degree of stamina and a willingness to adapt to perhaps less hospitable surroundings. Of course, Minkowski does have these traits and they serve her well on the Hephaestus. But there's not really anything particularly surprising about her expressing these interests. The surprise in this scene comes from the reveal that she has a husband, a character detail which - like her love of musicals - isn't something we'd necessarily expect from the archetype-based view of her we are initially presented with. 

Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking never come up again, because these details don't really deepen her characterisation (or at least, they aren't really used to deepen her characterisation beyond proving that she isn't entirely all-work-and-no-play). In contrast, Minkowski's love of musicals is brought up over and over because it shows another side of her that she struggles to reveal on the Hephaestus, and that allows more interesting things to be done with her characterisation.

"You wanted to write showtunes": Episode 35 (Need to Know)

Alongside the more high stakes discoveries prompted by the leak from Kepler's files, we also learn that Minkowski applied to - and was rejected from - the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program.

Up until this point, we've only had evidence that Minkowski enjoys performing in musicals. But here we learn that Minkowski doesn't just love watching or performing in musicals - she wanted to write them too. This suggests a creative side to her that we never see her fully express.

The course

The Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program claims to be the only course of its kind in the world and it accepts just 30 students each year. The current application process requires applicants to: upload play scripts or recordings of songs they've written; answer a large number of extended response questions about their creative process and views on musical theatre; write a 'statement of purpose' which has to talk about why they are applying and include 3 original ideas for musicals; provide a professional resume and a digital portfolio; complete an exercise of writing in response to a prompt; and undergo an interview. The process might have changed somewhat since Minkowski would have been applying (which, if it was soon after she finished college, might have been around the early 2000s) or it might be different in Wolf 359's alternate universe, but I think we can safely assume that applying to this course was a serious undertaking that required an intense amount of commitment and work. 

Applying to a course like that isn't something you do half-heartedly or on a whim. You couldn't apply to this course if you hadn't done a fair amount of musical theatre writing already. (The course requires applicants to choose to apply as bookwriters, lyricists, or composers, but I'm not going to make a guess here as to which of these Minkowski went for.) The fact that Minkowski wanted to study this course suggests that she was seriously considering trying to make a career out of musical theatre writing. In Once In A Lifetime, she tells Cutter that commanding a space station has always been her dream job, but we've got evidence here that it wasn't her only dream job. There's something kind of funny and kind of sad about the idea that writing musicals was her back-up / fall-back career path. She does not like to make life easy for herself.

The revelation 

This information is revealed against Minkowski's will. It's not something she wanted people to find out, and she isn't happy about them knowing:

JACOBI: "Dear Renée, thank you for your interest in the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program..." MINKOWSKI: Oh, come on!  JACOBI: (pressing on) "We are sorry to say, we will not be able to offer you a spot in this year's blah blah blah." Oh this is too good. You wanted to write showtunes?  MINKOWSKI: Number one? Shut up. Number two, why are my personal records on there?! [...] How is it in any way relevant?! JACOBI: Oh, I think it's very relevant. I mean, if you're sending someone to pilot ships in deep space, you want to make sure that they can, you know... paint with all the colors of the wind.  Jacobi CRACKS UP - and, although to a lesser degree, so does Lovelace. Minkowski looks at her: really?  LOVELACE: Sorry, Minkowski. It's... it's a little funny.  MINKOWKSI: No, it isn't!

Minkowski seems defensive and embarrassed here. She obviously doesn't trust everyone there with this revelation (Jacobi, Maxwell, Lovelace, and Hera are all present). She considers this information to be "personal" and irrelevant and not even "a little funny". She's used to reactions like Jacobi's (and to a lesser extent Lovelace's); in Ep41 Memoria, she says "most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" (see below for more thoughts about this quote). But the fact that these mocking reactions are expected doesn't mean that they don't bother her. She wants so badly to be taken seriously and, in this scene, her interest in musical theatre seems to be incompatible with that. Jacobi reacts the way that he does because of the idea that I've already expressed, that a passion for musical theatre does not fit with the serious authoritative image that Minkowski has often presented. It's not the typical hobby of a soldier, especially not a Commander.

To me, the way Lovelace laughs suggests that she might not have previously known about Minkowski's love of musicals, or at least perhaps not the full extent of it. At any rate, it's definitely news to Jacobi. And Minkowski clearly hasn't talked about it enough for it not to feel like a big reveal for her.

The rejection 

It's notable that this reveal is not just that she wanted to write for the stage, but also that she failed to get into a course that might have helped her work towards that goal. This of course compounds Minkowski's discomfort at having this information revealed. Not only did she want to write showtunes, but she encountered rejection in her attempts to do so. This detail implies that perhaps it wasn't just the appeal of her spacefaring dream that stopped her going down a theatrical career path. 

I'm about to move more into headcanon territory rather than just straightforward analysis, but I personally believe that, while Minkowski auditioned for a lot of musicals (particularly as a child / young person), she was never cast as the main role. She seems embarrassed about her interest in musical theatre in a way that (at least judging by people I've encountered) people who were always the lead in their school / college productions don't tend to be. 

We don't have much evidence about her actual level of singing/acting ability, given that she is inebriated during the only time we hear her sing in the podcast. However, it resonates with other aspects of her characterisation to imagine that Minkowski was generally good enough to get an ensemble part but never quite good enough to be cast as a main part. I think she might see only ever being cast as part of the ensemble, and failing to get into the Tisch Musical Theatre Writing programme, as slightly more down-to-earth examples of the same pattern as her repeated rejections from NASA. She is desperate to prove herself. She is "someone who very much wants to matter. To do something important." When she casts herself as almost every part in Pirates of Penzance, she is finally taking the opportunity to be a main character, an opportunity which I imagine had been denied to her over and over in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

"It's just from a play I saw once": Episode 41 (Memoria)

The next scene I want to talk about is from a memory of Hera's, which took place on Day 57 of the Hephaestus mission and in which Minkowski appears to be talking about the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George:

MINKOWSKI: Oh, it's just from a play I saw once. It doesn't matter. (BEAT) The guy who sings it is this famous French painter. And his entire life is kinda falling apart. But he can always turn what's happening around him into these beautiful paintings.  HERA: And? MINKOWSKI: And... That's, I don't know. Reassuring, maybe? (BEAT) I don't know why I'm going on about this. You don't care.  HERA: I think it's interesting.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah? Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals.  HERA: I don't see what's funny about it.  MINKOWSKI: Well, thank you Hera, but you're not exactly... you know.  HERA: I'm not... what? 

There's a couple of different things I want to pick out from this exchange. Firstly, the line "Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" makes me sad. I don't think she's talking about people on the Hephaestus there. Judging by the quote I talked about from Bach to the Future, Eiffel definitely wouldn't have registered Minkowski's love of musicals at this stage, and I doubt Hilbert cares at all about the hobbies of his fellow crew members. So Minkowski is talking about experiences that she's had on Earth, of people mocking her interest in musicals and thinking it doesn't fit with who she is. You can hear the impact of those experiences in Minkowski's reluctance to elaborate, in the way she says that something she obviously cares about doesn't matter, in her assumption that Hera doesn't care.

Secondly, this scene is a complicated one for Minkowski and Hera's relationship. On the one hand, Minkowski freely talks to Hera about something she's passionate about, and Hera listens and expresses interest. Hera validates Minkowski's interest in musical theatre without making a thing of it being weird and Minkowski thanks her. Again, it’s shown as an interest they could could potentially share.

But on the other hand, it seems like part of the reason Minkowski feels able to open up to Hera is because at this point Minkowski doesn't see opening up to Hera as fully equivalent to opening up to a fellow human. She doesn't just accept Hera not making fun of her interest; instead it seems Minkowski is about to imply that this lack of judgment indicates Hera's difference from humans (although she does have the decency not to say it outright). Minkowski's expectation of judgment from others contributes to her saying something very hurtful to Hera here. (This kind of potential consequence of negative self-attitude is explored a lot with Eiffel, so it's interesting that Minkowski can sometimes have a similar issue.)

Minkowski and Hera's conversation is interrupted when:

The DOOR OPENS.  EIFFEL: Hey, Minkowski, we've - What are you guys talking about?  MINKOWSKI: We were just discussing how I'm going to take away your hot water privileges if you don't reset the long-range scan.

Eiffel can obviously tell that he's walked in on a conversation that is about something other than work, or he wouldn't have asked. But Minkowski actively chooses not to tell him that she was talking to Hera about musicals. Perhaps she doesn't know how to open up to a human subordinate about it. Perhaps she doesn't trust him not to make fun of her. Perhaps she just doesn't have any impulse to talk about her interests with him. Either way, if Minkowski's love of musicals is something which reflects a side of her personality outside of her Commander role, this is a moment where she chooses not to take an opportunity to share that side of herself with Eiffel. This reflects the emotional distance between them three months into the mission, which forms a nice contrast with the next couple of quotes I'm going to talk about.

"Composition. Balance. Harmony.": Episode 54 (The Watchtower)

When Eiffel comes directly face to face with alien life, he discovers that music is the human invention that fascinates the Dear Listeners:

EIFFEL: You haven't figured out music?  BOB: ORDER. DESIGN. TENSION. COMPOSITION. BALANCE. HARMONY.  EIFFEL: (low, to himself) Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…

I only learned in the course of writing this post that in this moment the Dear Listeners are almost exactly quoting a repeated phrase used throughout Sunday in the Park with George. The titular protagonist lists various combinations of these qualities in multiple songs in reference to his art. In the closing song, the lyrics are "Order. Design. Tension. Composition. Balance. Light. [...] Harmony." It's not only Eiffel's references that the Dear Listeners are incorporating into their speech - they've picked this one up from Minkowski. This also suggests that some element of her appreciation for musicals and the way she talks about them has fed into the Dear Listeners' understanding of the human phenomenon of music. The Dear Listeners aren't just parroting - they understood the quote enough that they left out the word "light", arguably the only quality in that phrase which isn't a big part of music as well as visual art. Eiffel likes music too, but I don't think that this is how he'd talk about his favourite songs.

This is a refrain about finding order and beauty out of the chaos and uncertainty of life, which was also the aspect of Sunday in the Park with George that Minkowski focused on when talking about it in Memoria. It suggests that art/music could be something governed by rules and principles, which is potentially something that appeals both to Minkowski and to the Dear Listeners.

Eiffel's response to this reference is one of those little hints that reminds us that Eiffel and Minkowski have spent a lot of time together and that not all of that time has involved them being at each others' throats or actively in a life-or-death situation. Some of it has just been Minkowski going on about a musical she loves and Eiffel (willingly or not) paying enough attention that he recognises this phrase as a Sondheim quote that Minkowski has talked about. I suppose that this quote might have been in Eiffel's pop-culture-brain anyway, but judging from Eiffel's general tastes and the fact that I don't think Sunday in the Park with George is one of the more commonly known Sondheim musicals among non-musical fans, it seems more likely that this quote is something he only knows because Minkowski has talked about it. 

Eiffel sounds exasperated at the mention, like he's heard Minkowski talk about Sondheim far too much. But I'd argue that this still says something positive about their relationship, when we contrast it with a couple of other moments I've already mentioned. Firstly, when her previous musical theatre ambitions are revealed to Jacobi, Maxwell, and Lovelace in Need to Know, Minkowski seems embarrassed and defensive. Secondly, in the memory from Memoria, she avoids telling Eiffel that she was talking about this same musical. Yet, by the time The Watchtower takes place, Eiffel is sick of hearing Minkowski talk about Sondheim. She doesn't have the same barriers up in sharing her interests with him, even though he doesn't have the same interests. I think this is a demonstration of how comfortable she feels with him. It's a hint at the kind of easy downtime that they've sometimes shared.

"One day more": Episode 61 (Brave New World)

Eiffel recognises another musical reference of Minkowski’s in the finale. As the crew are preparing for their final confrontation with Cutter and co., Minkowski quotes Les Misérables, mostly to herself - but Eiffel recognises the lyrics and joins in:

EIFFEL: Hey - chin up, soldier. We're almost through. Just one more day, and then we're done.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah, one more day. (more to herself) The time is now, the place is here - one day more.  EIFFEL: - one day more.  They both stop, dead in their tracks. MINKOWSKI: Did you just - ?  EIFFEL: Was that what I - ?  They look at each other: No way. And BURST INTO LAUGHTER.  EIFFEL: Man... this is really it, huh? The end of everything. 

It feels really important that Minkowski and Eiffel share this moment of togetherness before she tries to send him back to Earth and before the rest of the action goes down. I think there’s some nice symbolism about them finding a way to communicate that they both understand. Making references is Eiffel's thing, and musicals are Minkowski's thing, so this is a synthesis of their two approaches. Again, there's a contrast with Minkowski's previous unwillingness to share her musical theatre passions with Eiffel (at least without the mitigating circumstances of a mandatory talent show and some kind of intoxicating substance).

I talked about the significance of the fact that they reference this particular musical in this post from ages ago. I don't think it's too much of a spoiler for Les Misérables to say that the revolution that the song One Day More is building up to does not end well for the revolutionaries. When Eiffel says "Just one more day, and then we're done", it encompasses both the possibility that the crew will escape to travel back to Earth and the possibility that they will all die. Minkowski's reference to a famously tragic musical suggests that it's the latter possibility that's at the forefront of her mind (right before she tries to send Eiffel away from the danger). But Les Misérables is also a story about people standing together in solidarity against powerful oppressive forces, which gives particular resonance to the way that this reference brings Eiffel and Minkowski together in a moment of being completely on the same wavelength as they prepare to fight Cutter and Pryce's plan.

When they laugh here, it's not about the 'hilariousness' of Minkowski's interest in musicals, it's about their unexpected unison - Eiffel's recognition of Minkowski's reference and Minkowski's surprise at the fact he joined in. It's a laugh of togetherness, of shared understanding, of friendship. It's a moment of lightness in dark times. And that moment is provided by Minkowski's pop culture interests, not Eiffel's. In spite of all they've been through, she's not lost that part of herself, and in fact, she's more open about it, at least to Eiffel.

I'll finish by highlighting what Eiffel says when he's trying to get into character to impersonate Minkowski so he can turn the Sol around:

EIFFEL: Umm... yes, this is Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski. I'm... uh... well I sure love schedules, and, uh, musicals. And that man, who I married…

I just think this is a nice example of Eiffel not defining Minkowski solely by her professional Commander role. Sure, she likes schedules (probably in a personal as well a professional capacity to be fair), but she also loves musicals, and her husband. It is a fairly reductive overview of her as a person, but it feels reductive in a fond way, like these things are part of Minkowski's brand to Eiffel in a way that he might affectionately tease her about. (Credit to @commsroom for this thought.) His view of Minkowski has come a long way from "our resident Statsi agent" or even just "you must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time." He doesn't see any contradiction or inherent humour in Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski's appreciation of musicals.

Conclusion

Minkowski's love of musical theatre is used to deepen her characterisation and is one of the ways in which we gradually begin to see her complexity beyond the strict Commander archetype. The degree to which she is prepared to share this interest at various points is used to illustrate the nature of her relationships with other characters: a general unwillingness to show a less serious side of herself; a complicated potential shared interest with Hera; and the growing understanding between her and Eiffel.

If you read this whole thing, well done / thank you 😄 It wasn't meant to be this long - it just happened… Feel free to share your thoughts!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP! Do you think the backlash to Set Me Free Pt2 is going to negatively impact Jimin’s solo career at all? I knew antis were going to bark, but I’m honestly taken aback by how widespread the hate is, to the point it’s making it back to the people who worked with him. I’m also seeing streams and sales drop a bit more than I was expecting. Now looking at places like Reddit, the hype for his album has really dropped. That’s probably a terrible place to gauge reaction, but it does have me a bit worried. I know the negativity for like Dynamite was really bad, but that was a song catered to the GP with the entire weight of all of ARMY behind it, and Jimin definitely doesn’t have that, so I’m worried this negativity will actually impact him. (The song is a straight up masterpiece to me btw, my sincerest hope is that he gets some critical recognition for it, or recognition from opinions he cares about. I really want to see him keep experimenting with music like this and to know how much so many of us love it!)

***

Hi Anon,

This is the last ask I'll respond to on this topic, because though I don't share the same fear, I recognize many of you feel nervous right now for understandable reasons and I don't want to dismiss your concerns outright.

Story time.

D-2 by Agust D was released on May 22, 2020. Right away the mixtape was a hit in the fandom and most ARMYs (not all, it's a solo project after all) supported it. As soon as it was released, k-pop stans went to work and I honestly found it amusing how methodical they were: they started from the top of the tracklist to the bottom - they first claimed Moonlight was plagiarized, the accusation didn't stick; then they claimed Daechwita was plagiarized, that too didn't stick. Then they got to the third track What Do You Think, and they hit the jackpot. You see, the initial recording of WDYT included a sampled excerpt of Jim Jones' speech, and once that was discovered, it was like hate bomb went off lol. The hate, ridicule, and bad faith was so intense and so widespread, I recall many ARMYs had to deactivate their accounts. Before long, k-pop stans were claiming Yoongi had told an insider that he wanted to kill black people and queer Korean people...

Anyway the point is, the backlash on Yoongi was swift, brutal, and harsh, understandably. Jim Jones has been sampled several times in music, in fact Post Malone put out an album around that time that explicitly referenced Jonestown, and it's very likely Yoongi or the people in his team were inspired by Post Malone's album and sought to include a similar feel and connection in his mixtape. In fact Agust D's Set Me Free directly pulls sonically from the album. But as with all things k-pop, cultural references get lost in translation and the weight of that decision was significant in the aftermath. BigHit released a statement and apology, and the song was re-released without the sample.

Now we're in March 2023, do you think this event negatively affected Yoongi's solo projects and career? Perhaps it did, k-pop stans still fume that Yoongi never apologized nor accepted blame for it, but by the end of 2020 I saw no indication Yoongi had been worse off for it. Partly because of ARMYs' support, but mostly because k-pop stans had gotten their pound of flesh with a humbling and an apology, and had moved on to the next target for critical discourse (which funnily enough was Dynamite by BTS).

It sounds crude and cynical to say it like this, and it's possible I could be wrong, but I've observed this pattern too many times over too many years for me to think otherwise.

Hopefully I don't have to say this more than once, but please listen when I tell you that so long as a project comes from a BTS member, the default inclination of most k-pop stans is to hate it. Nearly all the hate you're seeing for Jimin's Set Me Free Pt 2 was nearly guaranteed to begin with, the autotune just made it easy as the excuse. I mean, there's a whole subset of k-pop fandoms who believe he can't sing despite years of proof to the contrary. Since 2018 (precisely after BTS was awarded the Cultural Order of Merit award), the best case scenario from k-pop stans towards music released by BTS, is for them to ignore it. If you're expecting any other reaction from k-pop stans besides avoidance or hate, you're hoping for too much. Personally, I don't think it's a big deal, but I do think you need to calibrate your expectations to the reality of the environment you're in. It's one reason ARMYs are so fervent in their support of BTS.

There are differences between Yoongi's case and Jimin's. Firstly, Yoongi was already a respected producer outside of traditional k-pop and had avenues besides idol music to further that work, while Jimin appears to want to operate as a k-pop idol firmly within this system which requires winning over and maintaining the support of k-pop stans. So in a nutshell, Jimin is more exposed to the fickleness of k-pop stans than Yoongi is, but at the same time, Jimin does appear to have a larger committed base of solo fans than Yoongi, so let's say most of that risk cancels out for now.

The solo era also complicates things because the biggest antis of the members, are akgaes of other members. In Chapter 2 the support for each member from the fandom is more fractured now, that's true. But I think going by Jimin's case at least, the core of the fandom is still firmly supportive of their projects.

If you're still concerned, what can you do?

Remember that a lot of what you see online doesn't translate into real life. As an example, when a portion of RUN BTS (the song) was leaked last year, k-pop fans were tearing it down, saying it sounded like crap and was autotuned to death. By the end of 2022, k-pop stans were saying RUN BTS should have been the title track for Proof, that it was one of the best songs released by BTS and the song showed up in multiple stans' Spotify Wrapped...

Remember that most of these people hate as a hobby and are content to simply kick up a stink before moving on to the next thing. And in k-pop that typically happens in a matter of weeks.

Remember that your own view ultimately matters most. How do you feel about Set Me Free Pt 2? What do you like and dislike about it? How do you feel about the ideas Jimin is communicating in his song? I've said before that hate is contagious. All it does is inspire more of the same. You can counteract that spread by focusing on the music and the artist. Celebrate Jimin and the bits about him and his music that you love. Joy is infectious too, and if you're feeling his sound, people will notice. And more importantly, you'll be happier and less worried.

Like with previous solo releases, ARMYs might hit or miss their goals. There's a lot about the charts that have changed since 2021, leaving a lot of it up to chance, unfortunately. I suggest you focus on doing your part. The fandom isn't trying to sabotage Jimin, and Jimin is not releasing music to get specific chart placements to begin with. ARMYs will support as best they can, panic-buy at the last minute (lol), and Jimin will still succeed regardless of the outcome. He has already made his mark. I'm not saying this to placate you, that's what I genuinely think.

If you'd like more gp support, then share his music with those around you. Jimin's a great artist and I'm convinced anyone who listens to him without prejudice will be intrigued at the very least. They might not like his sound or his voice, but he will leave an impression. Your enthusiasm will too. And many times that's more than enough.

*

With Like Crazy's release this Friday, if it's a conventional pop track, expect a rebound in reactions from k-pop stans. I expect many to say things like 'he should've released this first' or something to that effect. That too has a playbook but I've rambled enough already.

What I'm trying to say is, Jimin isn't new to hate. Unfortunately, I suspect he knows, more than anyone else, the backlash he was likely to receive putting out a song like that. And that makes the song all the more powerful and perfect in my mind. In my initial review of Set Me Free Pt 2 I said I wasn't going to talk about the lyrics and message, and I still won't. All I'll say is I think it's a good idea to take Jimin seriously. There's nothing to be gained fretting about k-pop stans, focus instead on Jimin. He's worked too hard and already done such a phenomenal job, for any of us to be distracted by something as inconsequential as k-pop stan chatter.

It's only March. We still have the rest of the year and further out to leave an impact with his music.

In my opinion.

[obcenvs3000w24]

Who I Am As An Interpreter

Hello everyone! I would like to welcome you to the last blog post of the course! I want to start off by saying I have really enjoyed the privilege of learning so much about all of you, and who you are/aspire to be as nature interpreters. I also am very excited to share all of the aspects pertaining to who I am as an interpreter this week!

When it comes to how I approach nature interpretation, there are many beliefs and views I have that contribute. The first belief that I have is that every person here has a duty to respect and maintain nature as much as possible. The beauty of nature interpretation is partly due to the extreme diversity presented all over the planet, we cannot be complacent and allow some of this diversity to diminish. There are many ways in which this task can be completed, even something as small as cleaning up garbage in parks is helpful and impactful to its inhabitants.

Another belief that I have is that every type of nature interpretation is valid and equally important. There is no right or wrong way to engage in nature interpretation- whether it is music, art, technology etc- all methods are unique and valued in my eyes. My favourite type though, is most definitely music. Not only do I feel nature can be embodied by a certain vibe of music, but I also feel that the inclusion of nature sounds in music is extremely fascinating. For example, as of recent one of my favourite artists is Zach Bryan, and in his song “Smaller Acts” he includes many nature noises including frog croaks! As it says in unit 07, music is not just for celebration and fun: it can be used to inform as well as display the artists connection to nature (hooykas, 2024)

Nature interpretation to me is any way a message or information can be highlighted through a plethora of lenses. Everyone is not always going to connect to these messages the same way, but it is most important that it means something in the eyes of the interpreter.

Building of the belief that everyone has a responsibility to take care of nature, I feel that my role as an interpreter is slightly different, but it includes the same end goal. One of the biggest factors of nature interpretation is viewership. It is difficult to convey a message if nobody is there to receive it! I feel that my largest responsibility as an interpreter is to take my beliefs and values and share them in an attempt to inspire others to do the same. Awareness is extremely important in nature conservation, as it is a driving factor in creating an effort to combat negative relationships between us and the earth. Now just because I believe it, doesn’t excuse the extreme importance of the accuracy of my information conveyed. It is important that I unpack my “invisible backpack” (hooykas, 2024) and provide accurate information that is accessible and inclusive to all. It is my duty as an interpreter to share with others something that will be helpful to the community.

By creating a pathway of communication between the public and the environment, I help people appreciate and comprehend nature. As a result, I have an obligation to support conservation activities. I must provide the public with the knowledge they need to make wise decisions that will benefit the environment by teaching them about ecosystems, biodiversity, and the delicate balance of nature. Preserving the Earth's biodiversity, reducing the effects of climate change, and guaranteeing the welfare of current and future generations all depend on conservation. I get to motivate people to act because I interpret nature. As a nature interpreter, one of my responsibilities is to protect the environment for the good of all living things. You can aid in the preservation of ecosystems by taking an active role in conservation activities.Bottom of Form

The first suitable I feel an approach to complete this task is by photographing adventures I embark on: I have snowboarded all my life, and I will never forget the first day I went on a trip outside of Ontario. My perspective on snowboarding completely changed. The mountains completely encapsulated me and now I am completely obsessed with them. I am even convinced the air out there is completely different and cannot explain the inherent calmness that washes over me when I am present there.  I feel the by photographing these adventures and sharing them with others, it would help encourage others to go out and explore to find the thing that brings them joy and peace. I think that combining these photographs with a message on how they make me feel and steps that need to be taken to preserve these beautiful landscapes would be very effective in sharing with the public. The tools I would be using to complete this task would be shown by the role of technology in nature interpretation (hooykas, 2024). Other adventures I enjoy that would be suitable for this task would be rock climbing, hiking, swimming, and even just exploring!

The second approach that I would love to take is by interpreting through art. Something that I really enjoy and find fascinating is visiting art museums and just finding cool art in general. Though I am a subpar artist myself, this does not inhibit me from interpreting the art of others and sharing it with the many to convey the beautiful messages behind many pieces (hooykas, 2024). One example of this that I can think of is when I was in Banff (Yes, again). When I went to Banff last summer, we visited many shops, but one in particular was extremely cool and memorable. In this shop were many different art canvases with vibrant colours and beautiful landscapes. The section that interested me the most included many different animals, and this art was done in an indigenous style. Although I did not get any (Wow they were expensive) I think it would have been cool to share this art and some info about the endangered animals included.  

Hooykaas, A. (2024) Unit 03: Risk versus reward in interpretation, ENVS*3000. University of Guelph.

Hooykaas, A. (2024) Unit 04: Risk versus reward in interpretation, ENVS*3000. University of Guelph.

Hooykaas, A. (2024) Unit 08: Risk versus reward in interpretation, ENVS*3000. University of Guelph.

[7-wonders]

The Trouble With Wanting

Summary: Though life has changed for you, for the rest of the world, everything remains the same.

Word Count: 1.3K

Author's Note: Hello yes it's the beginning of Act II of Mad Love. Buckle up. Special shoutout to @mrslangdonn for being so pumped for this and making an actual meme. Really hope I didn't let you down with this.

Mad Love Act I here!

In the grand scheme of things, life has been oddly normal lately. Since being kidnapped by witches, saved by your Antichrist husband, admitting that you actually do love said Antichrist husband, and realizing that you’re potentially the only thing that can stop the end of times, the world continued turning and the days marched on. Michael did what he normally did during the days (you don’t really know what it is he does, to be honest. Probably just talking to rich people all day), and you did too. Life continued as it had been, even though it felt like your world had been changed numerous times lately. Honestly, you had expected things to be a lot more dramatic.

But no, life was almost boring now. Mallory had gone back to New Orleans to handle being the Supreme and running her coven, so besides the texts and phone calls with her to try and figure out how to convince Michael that ending the world wasn’t the right course of action to take, the vigilante talk was almost non-existent in your day-to-day life. That was also because neither of you had any idea how to actually put this plan into action. There had been ideas, of course, but none that held any weight. That may be because the best idea either of you had had was a Powerpoint that showed all of the reasons why ending the world was a bad idea, but in your opinion that was still an idea that was on the table.

Also, you assumed that professors wouldn’t take “preoccupied by your husband’s plans for world domination” as a proper excuse for you not completing your work or showing up to class. At the very least, with how turbulent your life had been, you had expected far less homework than what you’re staring at right now.

You’re sitting in your room, doing some reading for class. Surprisingly, the reading isn’t that boring. It’s certainly not fun to do, which is probably why you hear the music right away; your attention absolutely is not all that focused tonight. It catches you entirely off-guard, considering that there’s no speakers in your room and you definitely did not have any music playing from your phone. You listen for a moment, trying to place the melody.

“Is this Frankie Valli?” you question, standing up from your bed and trying to find the source. Opening up your door to see if this is an isolated incident, you find that the music is drifting throughout the house. ‘Drifting’ is probably the wrong word, since it literally sounds like there’s speakers playing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” that are installed in every room and hallway.

“Hi,” you say, finally coming across Michael in the living room. He’s standing there nonchalantly, which you automatically know means that he’s involved in this.

“Hi,” Michael says right back.

“Uh, what’s with the music?”

“Well, I was on my phone earlier, and I came across an article.”

Smiling, you step towards him. “You did?”

He nods. “I did, and it was extremely informative. Did you know that married couples typically have a reception after they officially get married? Apparently, they share a first dance at the reception.”

“And you believe everything you read on the internet?”

“Sometimes, if there’s some truth to what I’m reading.” You stare at him, biting back a laugh. “We’re married.”

“We are married.”

“We didn’t have a first dance when we got married.”

“No, we did not.”

Finally, Michael sighs, tired of you playing dumb. “(Y/N), may I have this dance?”

You grab Michael’s outstretched hand, letting him pull you towards him. One hand goes onto your waist, the other intertwined with yours. He begins to lead you in a simple waltz, and you’re thankful that he knows how to dance because you sure don’t. “I didn’t know you knew this song,” you comment when you realize he’s humming.

“I enjoy the classics.”

“There’s this scene from a movie, where one of the main characters--”

“You’re talking about 10 Things I Hate About You, right?” You raise an eyebrow in questioning, and he chuckles. “Madelyn loved ‘90s rom coms, and sometimes I was bored enough that I would watch them with her.”

“I’m a little impressed.”

Michael spins you around. “You should be.”

The romanticism of the whole situation is almost overwhelming. It doesn’t matter that you’re in your living room instead of a reception hall, wearing sweatpants instead of a wedding dress. You’re here with Michael, and just that is romance enough for you. You could stand here like this, with him, forever if he asked you to do so.

“What if we had an actual wedding?” Michael asks.

“We did have an actual wedding.”

“I mean one where you actually have a say in it.”

“Well that’s sweet of you, Michael, but you still haven’t taken me on a proper date.”

“My apologies.” He dips you, kissing you before bringing you back up. “How’s Paris for a first date? Maybe Greece?”

You gasp. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely. Wherever you want, whenever you want, however you want.” He punctuates each scenario with a kiss, making your body melt into him. The song ends, the house falling into silence before the music begins to repeat. But neither of you are paying attention to that any more, not when he’s staring at you in a way that makes heat pool in the bottom of your stomach.

“Michael,” you whisper, tilting your head up to kiss him again.

He reciprocates, trailing kisses down your jaw and onto your throat as his hands move up and down your sides. All too soon, he pulls away, making you groan in disappointment. “We shouldn’t, you know…”

“I know,” you lean your head against his chest with a sigh.

Of course. The main issue that’s been prevalent on both yours and Michael’s minds for weeks now: you’re married and you love each other, but sex is...not going to happen for the time being. You both absolutely, 100% want to, but, as with most things in your life, Satan seems to be the major roadblock. You just never thought that your father-in-law (who you’ve still never met) would end up cockblocking you.

Just because Michael made sure that you wouldn’t be under Satan’s influence, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t stop trying. If anything, he’s going to try even more now that both of you had openly defied his will. And what was the one thing that Satan wanted besides the end of the world? For Michael to have an heir. And you didn’t trust any sort of contraception when it came to the supernatural powers that you had been married into. Michael completely agreed with that, especially since he knew first-hand just how easily material things (like condoms and all of the various forms of birth control) could be manipulated. So for now, until you could figure out a way to safely get it on, sex was off the table. Unfortunately.

“I’m going to go finish my reading, then.” Slowly, because neither of you particularly want to, you disentangle yourself from him.

“And I’m going to...take a shower. A cold shower.” You laugh at him, but you’re really in the same position that he is.

“Have a good night,” you say, bounding up the stairs before you can stop yourself.

“You too.” Michael also goes up the stairs, and you shut your door before you have to say something to him again. You still keep separate bedrooms, partly because you really enjoy your space and partly because you know that, given the opportunity to be laying in a bed with Michael when you’re both horny, you would totally let him fuck you.

Sliding your back down the door, you groan as you hold your head in your hands. Saving the world from the apocalypse is definitely difficult. Having to stop yourself from having sex with your incredibly hot husband? Well, that feels impossible.

//

Tag List (starting from scratch because I need a new tag list so message me if you want to be tagged!): @michaellangdon @trelaney @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @we-did-it-joe @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdonstanaccount

[rewrite-this-story]

Ok, so I'm going to just share this long post/ rant comparing two fictional characters with abusive tendencies. They are from two very difference, completely unrelated (except for the fact that Leslie Odom Jr. appears in both) shows. I like one and tend to dislike the other and I want to share why I think this is. The two character I'm going to discuss are Jimmy Collins from Smash (played by Jeremy Jordan) and Dean Winchester from Supernatural (played by Jensen Ackles). Before anyone says anything, no, I don’t like Jimmy Collins more than Dean Winchester because one of my favorite Broadway actors plays him.

Warning: there are a few spoilers ahead.

Just for reference, this is Dean Winchester:

And this is Jimmy Collins:

I'm assuming most people have some idea what Supernatural is about and who Dean is, but Smash is not nearly as well known, so I'm going to try to quickly summarize everything you need to know. Smash is a musical TV show that ran for two seasons. It's not super well known, but it was good. The music mostly consists of original songs written by Broadway composers and writers and most of the actors are fairly successful on Broadway. Some of them weren't at the time, but are now. The first season of the show focuses on a few characters as they try to get a musical about Marilyn Monroe titled Bombshell produced on Broadway while struggling with issues in their personal lives. In season 2, they are still trying to get Bombshell onto Broadway, but the group splits up and some of them move on to working on a new musical written by Jimmy Collins and Kyle Bishop titled Hit List. Fantastic show, I would definitely recommend checking it out.

Now, let's move on to talking about Dean Winchester and Jimmy Collins and their childhoods.

Dean Winchester grew up in a very unhealthy household and was trained to fight monsters and look after his brother since his mother died when he was four. His brother, Sam, was a baby at the time and didn't feel the same conviction to avenge his mother's death as his father and brother. It doesn't help that he really wasn't told anything about her and would get in trouble for even mentioning her. Different people have different opinions about their father, but I won't talk too much about him in this post. However, I will say that he was probably not the position to raise his children well. I don't care if he was grieving or trying his best, it was not healthy for Sam and Dean to be raised the way they were. Since young, they were both trained in hand to hand combat and the use of numerous weapons. By the time they were teenagers, they were helping their father fight monsters and knew how to treat most injuries. Dean was often pressured to take care of Sam. He also often found himself in the middle of arguments between Sam and their father. Many people theorize or argue that their father was both emotional and physically abusive and that he was an alcoholic.

We never meet Jimmy's parents, but we know that his father was physically abusive and an alcoholic from Jimmy's discussions with Karen and Kyle. It's reasonable to assume that he was also emotionally abusive. I don't remember what happened to his mother, but after getting away from their father, Jimmy and his brother, Adam, have no relationship with her. We also don't know much about his relationship with Adam growing up, but after they leave, Adam gets Jimmy addicted to drugs and convinces him to deal drugs for him. Eventually, Jimmy meets Kyle. Kyle helps him see the error in his ways and he starts battling his addiction and stops selling drugs. Well, it's partly Kyle's influence, partly his own conscience, and partly the shock of watching a girl he liked overdose on drugs he gave her that gets him to try to change. At some point after this, Jimmy steals money from his brother, changes his name to Jimmy Collins, and moves in with Kyle. Throughout the show, he repeatedly refers to Kyle as his brother.

Throughout each show, both Dean and Jimmy are shown to get very angry very easily and often hurt the people who care most about them. They try to use their past to excuse their behavior and they emotionally manipulate those closest to them and make them feel guilty for things that they shouldn't feel guilty for.

The major differences I noticed between the characters was their development throughout the show and how the show dealt with their behavior.

Supernatural and many fans constantly excuse Dean's behavior because he had a hard childhood. I have heard fans say that his misogynistic attitude throughout the show is ok because he has "mommy issues". His reactions are justified for various reasons and in the end, he's treated like a hero. His hypocrisy is ok because he knows best. His constant abuse towards both Sam and Castiel is ok because they somehow deserved it. I can't remember what people said to justify how he treated Jack. At one point in the show he says that he's poison. The show never addresses the fact that people around him don't get hurt just because he has bad luck. They get hurt because he hurts them or drives them to put themselves in danger. Dean never changes or improves. Even when a character tells him that he needs to change, he ignores them. He somehow hates himself whole being blind to his own flaws.

Jimmy, on the other hand, knows he needs to change and improve. When we first meet him, he wants nothing to do with anyone other than Kyle. This is probably partly because he doesn't trust them and partly because he doesn't trust himself. Kyle often puts up with Jimmy's behavior, but when he does push back, Jimmy listens. The show doesn't ignore Jimmy's issues. His backstory doesn't exist to justify his flaws, but to explain them. He works to improve for himself and the people who care about him. And he does learn and improve. He learns to trust people and do nice things just because. He does slip up occasionally, but he tries to make things right and apologize. In the end, he even manages to face his past and turns himself in for the crimes he committed to try to make things right. I'm guessing he also starting seeing a therapist while in jail, but we don't really know.

Basically, abusive characters can still be likable if their abusive behavior is addressed and they get character development.

[yolo1650]

Surprise Date Pt. 3 (wip)

A/N: Inspired by a whole bunch of sacred romantic prompts by @screnwriter I had a lot of fun writing this! But I can imagine my execution is mediocre at best (especially with trying to write in Redd's pov) XD 

Also, if this helps, you can imagine the anthropomorphism akin to something like from Bojack Horseman. If you’re looking for some context, click here. I really wrote this to practice writing, nothing plot relevant here is permanent. 

Word Count: 1805

Warnings/Tags: Anthropomorphic characters, cross species relationship, drinking off screen, mentions of alcohol, jazzy times, make up after a fight, but i’m not exactly sure what they fought about, slow dancing, fluff, heart to heart, kissing, implied sex at the end, amateur writing, so it might get repetitive at times, i’m just so glad this is done, my oc still doesn’t have a name yet, she’s just referred to as she the whole time :’)

————-

As the level of wine in their glasses winded down, so did their surprisingly pleasant date night. In between their shared laughter and smiles, Redd could barely remember whatever fuss they had two nights before. Key word: barely. He still remembered how the sound of her yelling grated against his, and his tail bristled slightly at the thought of it.  

 Just then the CD player finished. With a tight smile, she excused herself to go and add a new one. The smooth voice of a woman's jazz ballad flowed out of the speakers, nothing at all like the soft chimes of the synth that was on before. Redd looked over to her outstretched hand.  

"Dance with me?" 

The dumb look of shock on his face probably wasn’t subtle at all, otherwise she wouldn't have shown off those shining pearly whites of her's. Rubbing the back of his neck, he chuckled. "No, no, I'm sorry darlin'. But I'm no dancer." 

But her hand remained outstretched in front of him. "I'll be the judge of that." Her tone was blunt, but her eyes however held a small plea. She then cocked her head over to the open space in front of the speakers. "Come on, we won't go too fast, I promise."

Tentatively, he placed his own leathered palm in her soft one, allowing her to guide him to the center of the living room. As she guided his right hand to her waist, he could feel his hackles rise at the nerves. He swallowed.  

"Don't say I didn't warn you now. Who knows, we might both end up on the ground 'cause of me." He hoped his voice didn't come out as hoarse because of how dry it was. She only smiled back, eyes warm with reassurance.  

"Then we'll both have something to laugh about when we look back at this moment." She placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly started moving. "Just follow my lead. I'm sure a smart fox like you can figure out a simple slow dance."

So, they danced, or rather, she slowly danced but had to pause at every step so that Redd's feet could step in time with her. He kept his head down, partly to keep watch of her feet and partly out of embarrassment. It wasn't often when he was forced in a position to admit an honest fault of his, but he'll take this case to be a delightful exception.  

"Are you familiar with Ella Fitzgerald?" Her question was let out in a single warm breath that pushed against the whiskers on the side of his muzzle. His nose involuntarily twitched at the newfound intimacy. He looked up only to see her gaze was elsewhere, supposedly lost in the swooping lows of the melody.  

"Ah, no, not really." He gently squeezed her hand as she picked up the pace. She squeezed back. "But I, uh, I don't mind. She sounds very talented."

"That she was, that she was," she drawled, her voice low. Nothing at all like how she sounded two days ago: sharp and resonant, and she had each syllable spoken with just the right amount of annunciation, perfect for scolding an employee for his unprofessionalism.  

It didn't take long before their bodies started moving together at the gentle pace of the song. His own tail couldn't help but absent-mindedly swing along to the smooth piano accompaniment. She even let him lead the dance for a few moments. Not bad you sly fox, Redd thought to himself, not bad at all. When she took over once more he looked to smile at her before saying, "This, this is kinda nice." But she only briefly returned that same half smile he'd seen all day.

Redd didn't need to be a detective to figure out what was bothering her. But, if their argument has taught him anything, it's that she wasn't really the talking type. In fact, if today has taught him anything, it was that she preferred to show how she felt, rather than say it. He squeezed her hand once more to assure her as she did for him, and her worried-filled eyes met with his attentive ones.  

She let out a sigh. "I'm sorry," she started, "about the things I said last time."

"I know." Out of the corner of his eye he could see her small frown. "The museum, fancy dinner, and now this? You'd have to admit it's all one hell of an apology."

"I still thought I should say it.”

“Apology accepted." He smiled. But it quickly dropped when she didn’t return it. He then opened his mouth. “I-

“I still have more to say, so if you could please just..." Her voice trailed off, not that she needed to finish it in the first place. The sight of her knit eyebrows alone was enough to shut his mouth up. He's never seen her so uncomfortable.  

She took another breath before continuing. "I was being a stupid, privileged ass, and you didn't deserve that. You're too good for-" She stopped herself, trying to find the right words. "You, you're just." She sighed and briefly glanced at him only to look away once again. “You’re extraordinary."

"I'm extraordinary?" The comment stopped him in his tracks, but he didn't even notice until she stumbled into him, the sweet, floral smell of her hair wash stronger than ever. Her arms grabbed onto his shoulders and he steadied her with his hands on her waist. He let out an embarrassed chuckle against her ear. "Sorry about that. Now remind me, who's the one making more figures here?"

"This isn't about that," she replied, their faces were so close she only needed to whisper. "I'm only able to do what I do because of my mom and she always knows best. But you-" Her piercing eyes met his own. "You didn't have any of that and you still made your way here because you wanted to be. You have this drive, this determination-and I see it in your eyes-you just go for it and take what you want, no matter what.”  

He leaned into her when she placed her forehead against his. “I've never seen that before so yeah, that's extraordinary."

He smirked. "Well, you are right about that."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I can easily take back all the nice things I said about you." The corners of her eyes crinkled as her mouth lifted to a beautiful smile. Redd's been waiting all night to see that one.  

"Alight, alright," he conceded, "bad timing I know, I'm sorry."  

She leaned in, pressing her whole body against him in a total embrace. Redd could tell that she'd said and done her piece, and was now melting into his touch. He could hear her quietly sing along to the music against his neck, another thing he'd never seen her do before. Their swaying has slowed tremendously since they started, but he decided that he actually liked it better this way.  

He cleared his throat and she pulled away to hear what he had to say. "I'm sorry 'bout gettin’ under your skin the other day. I should've known better than to pry like that." Seeing the earnest look in her eyes made him pause, and he found his jaw slacked trying to find his thoughts again.  

"I, uh, you're an amazing woman, you know that right?" She only responded with a small smile, a gentle request to continue. "You're a smart, beautiful, and busy woman who's got a lot on her plate. I'm sorry if I just ended up makin' your life harder and more stressful."

"Apology accepted," she said with a wide smile.

"And did I mention you've got a spine of steel? She shook her head and chuckled into his chest, now he was overdoing it. "I'm serious! Have you seen yourself at the office? There's nothing stopping you, whatever you want, you've got it. You're the whole package babe, life's just that easy for you."

Their slow dance has come to a crawling stop by now. As they held onto each other, the long, soaring melody from the trumpet flowed in between them, carrying away their troubles and leaving them together, hearts beating in time with each other. Redd didn't think he'd ever want to let go of her at all.  

"Nothing about this is easy right now," she mumbled into his neck.  

"I know." There was still so much he didn't tell her yet, and the longer he waited, the harder it became to even bring it up.  

His sensitive ears picked up the huffiness of a short laugh coming from her. "You certainly don't make it very easy. Here I am, twenty-one, thinking I already have everything together. I knew who I was, and I knew what my future held, but then -" She paused. What she said next came out slow, as if she was processing each word as it left her. "But then I met you, and for the first time, I just don't know anymore. I don't even-" Her hands balled up into fists against his back. "What if I-" He started rubbing slow circles against hers. "Maybe." Her shoulders relaxed. "Maybe I don’t want my future anymore because whenever I look at you-"

Their eyes met, and as they gazed deeply into each other, Redd couldn't help but feel an urge, a pull towards her. Did her eyes always look like a fox's? Bright with excitement and simmering with a deep burn of desire and certainty?

"-I see a whole different future, and I want it." Her eyes were already halfway closed at their close proximity, eagerly inviting him to close the gap. Right before he did, he heard her utter one four more words that made this wait all the more worth it. "I want you, Redd."

This kiss was the best one they had yet. It was slow and tender, and he indulged himself fully to the taste of her perfect lips. They were soft, and still had the lingering taste of the wine they shared moments before.  

When she reached up to hold his face against his own, his ears perked at the sound of a new vocalist, male this time, and although his gravelly voice sounded far away, the truth of the words he sang rang loud and true. Heaven, he was in heaven. He felt a slice of it with every gasp of breath they shared in between kisses, with every fleeting touch of her slender fingers on his body, with every soft moan of pleasure she let out underneath him. Heaven was tender kisses that were given like a promise. Heaven was when neither of them wanted to leave the gentle and firm embrace of the other, deep into the night.  

————-

Here’s the song that featured at the end

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

[arse-crack-thistle]

quality time

rwrb and the five love languages | part four

in which bea nearly crashes from the stress of party-planning (aroace rep)

Princess Beatrice buzzes around The Masquerade, double-checking place cards, straightening table settings, and pulling dried rose petals from the centerpieces. She rented the concert venue for the night to throw a modern Valentine’s gala to benefit Henry’s queer youth center in London. He and Alex are around here somewhere, probably hooking up in a broom cupboard and definitely not nitpicking every detail like Bea is. Her assistant follows her with a clipboard and updates her on the schedule: t-minus three hours until guests arrive and, in the meantime, she needs to give final approval, soundcheck with the band, and get dressed up. Jeans and a blazer, while royal casual, are not party-appropriate, and tonight needs to be perfect.

She usually hates royal events like galas, but this one is special. Not because it’s Valentine’s Day—Bea could not give two fucks about the holiday—but because ever since coming out as asexual around Christmas, she’s been looking for an opportunity to help other queer people, or at least give them a public figure they could point to and say, “See Mum and Dad, she’s like me.” Henry and Alex got their chance, and now this time, it’s hers.

The stage lights up with pink and red; it’s cheesy, but Bea digs it. The concert was the one thing she would not budge on with her royal event planner. Did she want to reach into wealthy pockets? Yes. Did she still want to have a good time? Hell yes. And the band she’s joining for one night only happens to be just as queer as the charity they’re supporting.

Permanent Record, local to London, tune their instruments on stage. Bea has met them dozens of times over the last month and vibed with them instantly. Margot, the too-cool lead singer always decked out in a leather jacket and Docs, is ace like her, and as much as Bea has wanted to get to know them, there’s been no time. Turns out, party-planning and party-executing steals the host away from all meaningful human connection. She’s only been able to keep up with Henry because he’s partly responsible for this event.

The pit, full of tables covered in pink and gold, finally looks perfect enough for Bea to hand-off any other minute fixes to the planner and finally have her soundcheck with the band. But then, a large crash comes from the back of the venue, and she hears a loud shriek coming from a familiar voice, the one that’s been shrill and disapproving for the last month. When Bea runs up, she sees hundreds of shattered champaign flutes and her planner on the floor, blood oozing from her hands.

This cannot be happening. The only reason Bea kept this woman around was to take most of the day-of duties off her plate. But she’s in the back of an ambulance now, and Henry is nowhere to be found. Bea’s stress levels go from tolerable to unbearable as she orders her assistant to track down replacement flutes. The staff are quick to fill her other requests: a couple of people start sweeping, someone runs off to find her co-host, another tells the band Bea’s soundcheck will be postponed, and a brave soul steps up as a temporary assistant and follows her around the back tables to check for broken glass. Bea knows she doesn’t have to be the one to do this, but it seems like the success of this event lies solely one her shoulders. If something goes wrongs, it’s her face—not Henry’s—in the papers the next day. Powder Princess Crashes and Burns at Gay Ball. Christ.

After an hour, everything is sorted. There’s no glass. The planner is getting stiches. Permanent Record has started their soundcheck and sound amazing. But even their chill indie tunes can’t calm the princess. She needs to get on stage, but her stylist specifically requested she have at least two hours to work his magic, which is not going to happen.

Bea tells her assistant to get her stylist and his team to the venue, because she won’t be able to leave, and warn him he’ll only have an hour at best. Henry and Alex have already taken off to get ready, and she has to remind herself to smack them later for abandoning her.

She tugs off her blazer, drapes it over a chair, and rolls up her sleeves. If she does get her hands on a guitar, she’ll explode. It’s all she can think of to stop her from raiding the bar at the back.

“Better late than never, eh, Princess?” Margot says as she huffs on stage.

One of the stagehands gives Bea her beautiful sleek, black Fender Stratocaster, and her anxiety reduces itself to a hum. Music can’t cure all, but it certainly keeps her from wrecking every good thing in her life.

“Let’s just play,” she says.

But it’s anything but perfect. Whatever chemistry she had with Permanent Record somehow jumped into the Thames between their last rehearsal and now because this is an absolute travesty and she’s only playing two songs with them tonight. She’s forgotten measures of one song and can’t find the chords fast enough in her solo of the other. Utter shit.

Why does she even fucking bother?

She always fucks everything up. Always. Why did she think she could put this on? Sure, she’s chaired these events before, but not ones she actually cares about, not ones she’s actually put her heart into. Christ, no wonder. She should’ve known it would turn out like this. She’s the anti-Midas; everything she touches turns to shit.

No kid will ever see her as a queer role model. She’s the girl they point to and say, “See Mum and Dad, what a waste.”

She needs a hit so fucking bad.

Which is why she has to get out of here ASAP. Before she does anything she’ll regret. She won’t slip again, and she won’t be the reason this gala fails. Henry can handle it without her.

So when Margot calls for a five-minute break, Bea excuses herself and hands off her guitar. On her way out the door, she tells the stagehand to find her assistant and tell her to have Henry take over. The hard part is over thanks to the planner actually being brilliant at her job, even if she and Bea would never get along.

No doubt, cameras are already lined up outside, so she hides in one of the green rooms and locks the door behind her. If she just takes a deep breath and calms down, she can bring herself back from the edge.

Five things she can see: The 1975, Arctic Monkeys, Oasis, Solange, and Fiona Apple’s signatures on the artist wall.

Four things she can feel: the worn leather on a crusty couch, the chipped-paint walls, her toes in her shoes, and her fingers through her light brown hair.

Three things she can hear: the ticking from the clock, the click of her heels as she paces, and a knock at the door.

Two things she can smell: decades-old musk from artists past—no doubt coming from the couch—and her light perfume on her wrist.

One thing she can taste: a hint of coffee from earlier.

She breathes in and out, and the knock on the door continues.

“Bea, are you in there? Could you let me in?” Margot. Essentially a stranger. She supposes it’s better than facing a disappointed Henry, so she opens the door and promptly relocks it as soon as they’re inside.

“Christ, this place is legendary, isn’t it? Everyone’s played here—is that Bob Dylan? Fucking nuts,” Margot says, pointing to the wall.

“I’ve seen loads of people here. Always wanted to play here myself,” Bea tells them. She traces Lizzo’s signature. That was a fun night; Nora and June flew out for a girls’ night, which was ultimately crashed by Pez.

“Me too, and the rest of band as well, I suppose.” Margot looks at Bea and smiles. They’re brown eyes crinkle in the corner, and it reminds her of Alex. “And now we get to, eh, Princess? Couldn’t’ve gotten here without you. The whole world knows Permanent Record now.”

“You could’ve done it without me,” she says. “You will tonight anyway.”

“Hey.” They reach for Bea’s hand. “Everyone has some hiccups before a big gig. It’ll be grand, but only if you’re there. This is your night as much as it is ours or the youth center’s. You have no idea how important it is for your lot to shine a light on causes people shy away from.”

That makes Bea smile. For so long she wanted to hide from her position. She wanted freedom to do whatever she pleased, but now she understands the power she has, even if people still see her as “The Powder Princess.” No matter what she wears, millions of fashion influencers share links to her clothes. If she walks into a restaurant, their yearly profits skyrocket. When she told the world she was ace, thousands of people messaged her and said the same. One of them was Margot, telling her about their undiscovered band from South London.

She tells Margot how that was one of the first times she really felt like herself. Completely at peace with who she is. How that peace got away from her and turned this gala into a near-panic-attack-inducing event, she doesn’t know.

“Have you let on how stressed you’ve been to anyone?” Margot asks. The two sit together on the couch after Margot bravely plopped themself down on the dirty, old thing.

“Hadn’t the time,” she says. Truthfully, Bea doesn’t think she’s had a genuine conversation with anyone since the gala’s conception.

Margot throws their hands in the air. “Well, there you go then! You’ve got to take the time! To take care of yourself. To hang out with your mates. Just to have some goddamn fun, Bea! Come on! You think I’d be a functioning human if I didn’t let loose with my mates every now and then? This—” They gesture to their body, covered in tattoos and tattered black clothing. “Doesn’t happen on its own.”

Bea laughs. It’s been so long since she’s laughed from anything other than stress. “Right, so how does this all happen then?” She swirls her hand in Margot’s direction.

As they chat, Bea relaxes. They talk about their families and uni and music and coming out. Bea tells Margot about the time she and the gang went to the karaoke bar where Henry got wasted and sang Queen horrifically. Margot tells her about the time in year twelve when they got dared to try out for the school play and ended up playing an old man in the most unbelievable bald cap.

Eventually, the two of them pull out their phones and play a few games of Among Us until Bea’s desperate assistant finds her and pleads for her to get ready though the door. They only have an hour before guests arrive.

“You all right?” Margot asks. “Want to go out there and try again?”

Funny how it doesn’t seem so scary anymore. How it only took a short break, a nice chat, and a little pink astronaut to put Bea at ease. She smiles. The notes come back to her fingertips.

check out the rest of my rwrb and the five love languages series: part one, part two, part three, and part five. (links to come as they’re released)

listen, my permanent headcanon is aroace bea and you will never convince me otherwise and i will never write her as anything else bc i love her so much!! (that being said, if you ship her with anyone, i totally understand). also, i reference a fic of mine i wrote for winterfest so if you want to check out my version of bea’s coming out, you can do that here! and finally, i know this wasn’t a romantic fic for romance week but like i said in part one, valentine’s day is different for everyone. <3

rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests

[suzelavie]

Mistletoe Mishap

alternative title: do you remember the 21st night of December?

pairing: yamada hizashi x gn reader

genre: fluff with conflict

word count: 5 483

ao3 backup link: here

summary: you and hizashi head to the downtown christmas market to buy a secret santa gift for aizawa, and though you both like each other, that isn't always easy to realise.

tags: conflict and tears but it’s nothing personal / you may get second-hand embarrassment but there's not public humiliation / reader is oblivious to music / "it was a misunderstanding" trope / kinda emotional reader / a hint of aizawa x oc if you squint so hard you practically go blind / reader is a teacher at u.a. and a pro-hero, but no quirk or abilities are specified

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

“So,” your eyes hitch onto the small booths as you walk down the marketplace with Hizashi by your side. Chains of small, warm, golden christmas lights are swirled around green garlands and line the openings as sellers hustle around piles of various products inside their respective booths. Chocolates, various types of cheese, porcelain and glass ornaments, jewelry, soaps… just about anything you can imagine lay stacked in rows on display for the bypassing, potential buyers.

In most cases, such an array of products and choices are a dream come true - you can find exactly what you’re looking for at least somewhere in this village-like square in downtown Musutafu. Though, when you're trying to buy a gift for the Secret Santa orchestrated by your workplace, where you've managed to pick one of the most nonchalant, reserved people in the entirety of Japan, it's more overwhelming than anything else.

However, you’ve come prepared, as to narrow the list down to at least potential, decent options, and brought Hizashi to keep your mind on track. Or, partly to keep your mind on track, it's first and foremost because you can use his friendship with Aizawa as an excuse to spend time with him. “What do you think Aizawa would like?”

Hizashi shrugs, not at all sharing the same panic you have about the situation, and glances into each booth you pass. Your boots crunch against the thin layer of fresh snow and you keep your hands hidden in your pockets to protect them from the chill, even if you’re wearing gloves and a thick coat. Tiny snowflakes dance through the air like powdered sugar and melt against your exposed cheeks, but you hide your face inside your scarf for refuge.

“I don’t know," he says. "He doesn’t really like presents.”

“I thought that you’ve bought him presents before? Like for birthdays and stuff?”

“I have.” He slows down his steps to look into a booth that has vinyl records decorating the walls inside, and reaches for one of the records with a faint, intrigued “ooo”. Stepping closer, you lean over to see which he decided to pick up from the many others on display, and he angles it so you can see the cover properly. It’s almost a surreal, dream-like design, with two greek temple-ruins on a green and blue background with a bright yellow star, or sun, above them. When the snowflakes land on the cover, they almost look like faint stars, though Hizashi hides it underneath the booth’s overhang, probably to prevent water damage. The designer also chose a digital-esque font to write the band name, you’re guessing band, though the angles and letters are inverted and switched around. “It’s by Earth, Wind, and Fire, you’ve heard of them right?”

Humming, recognition flashes in the back of your head briefly like a broken light-bulb. You fix your posture as you look up at him, pleased you might actually get one of his music-nerd name drops right for once - maybe your six-month long fight to understand the language of music as well as he does has actually started to pay off. “Yeah! They had that- that song,” you snap your fingers, trying to force the name through your foggy memory, before you shake your head and resort to saying, “that bah-da-yah song, right?” Both the seller and the customer beside you throw you a brief glance, eyebrows raised.

“September?” Hizashi says for you and you nod excitedly. September, that was the name! “Yeah, that’s one of their most known songs, but it isn’t on this record I think.” Hizashi flips the record and skims the track list - it’s called a track list, right? “No, but it has Boogie Wonderland, have you heard that one?”

The little sliver of pride you had falls as he looks at you expectantly. “Can’t say I have, no…”

He smiles and fishes out his wallet. “You should, it’s one of my favorites.” He asks the seller about the price - not that he really has to worry with that pro-hero income of his - and puts his credit card on the transaction port. “You could come over sometime, I’ve got a lot of these, and I’m sure I could find something that matches your tastes.”

You smile back at his offer, though the thought makes you grow both excited and nervous. Even if you’ve been friends for a bit now, you’ve never been alone with Hizashi at his house, though you’d jump at the chance. It’s just never been only the two of you, together, you know? Spending time together outside in a public space like this is fine enough, since he’s doing you a favor and helping you with Aizawa’s gift, but…

The idea bubbles in your stomach and you suppress the need to squeal in excitement. “That would be fun,” you say before you can back out. “Maybe I’d actually be able to discuss music with you afterwards.”

He snickers and takes the bag with the vinyl from the seller. The cover is covered in a layer of bubble wrap and packing paper, probably to prevent bends and breaks. You expected them to be a bit more durable than that - aren’t they made of plastic? “Hopefully,” he says as you both resume on your path down the marketplace aisle. “I’ve always been curious about what music you’re into, but you never tell me.”

“Because I don’t know myself!” You defend yourself and smile down at the ground to avoid his eyes for a moment. “I’ve just never sat down and analyzed what I like, you know? I usually just put Japan's Top 100 playlist on when I want to listen to music, but…” You shrug and laugh at your confession. Sure, it isn’t the worst thing in the world and is probably a common problem, but it’s weird to say it to Yamada Hizashi of all people. He lives and breathes music, if he ended up in hospital the doctors would have to connect his IV-tube to a jukebox. “I don’t know. I’ve just never had the same connection to it as you do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures. “If you want to get that connection, I’ll gladly help you.”

“Thanks,” you say and sigh out before you start to look into the booths again, though your smile remains. “But back to Aizawa, what would he like? A free pass to stay home for a month straight?” You laugh as you imagine the idea unfolding in your head. He’d definitely be relieved to have even just a few weeks’ worth of peace and quiet, uninterrupted by students asking for help on homework questions they already can figure out themselves, or by the dreaded Class 1-A who insist on getting into trouble with genocidal villains every other weekday as if it’s a fun hobby. It would probably add a few years he’s already lost off his already sheer lifespan. You look at Hizashi, who is already staring at you with soft eyes, and your heart skips a beat. "He’d like that, right?”

He blinks a few times with a near-inaudible hum of confusion, but answers before you can repeat your joke and looks ahead at the snowflakes falling from the pitch-black sky. “He’s probably not gonna relax then, even. Midoriya and Bakugou will definitely find a way to end up on the national news again, and he’ll just have to get involved on his own accord because who else is gonna babysit that bunch?”

“True.” You shake your head in pity. “He didn’t exactly have luck on his side when he got them as his homeroom class, did he?”

“Probably not, but he loves them, and he can handle them better than anyone else, so I’m glad he did. I know I would’ve gotten a heart attack every five minutes if they were my responsibility.”

“I probably would too, to be honest,” you sigh with a slight smile. “He’s so amazing, though, isn’t he? Like, he’s so quiet and reserved, but he’s so… kind and selfless underneath all that. I just love it. He’s so intriguing.”

Sellers call out deals on their products to you and other bypassers. Forty percent off, get a free sample upon your purchase, buy one get one free. Salesmanship truly is both an art and a struggle, it seems. You need to be able to fish in potential buyers with just the correct words that awakens the human instinct to get as much as possible for as little as possible, all while outsmarting your fellow salesmen in order to gain profit and an income, or else you’ll get pushed out of the market. As with all other things, it’s a battle of survival, a competition that ends with survival of the wittiest.

“But-” You clasp your hands together and let your eyes dart from booth to booth in another search. Chocolates are too boring, no matter which kind, and he wouldn’t be caught dead in jewelry, and he isn’t a music nerd like Hizashi… “- I have no idea what to buy for him.”

“You’re really in a rush to get this present, aren’t you?”

“I have to be. I’ve spent two weeks pondering and I’m supposed to have it ready by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He adjusts his beanie to sit better over his ears. His blonde hair is gathered into a quick bun and hidden inside, evident by the lump at the back of his head, with some locks sticking out past the knitted hem. “But you’re trying to force it, and that’s gonna be evident in the gift. Instead, just look around and, if you see something you think would be nice, then you can ask for my opinion if you want it. Take it from me. That’s how I’ve decided on the past-” He looks up briefly to calculate the total amount. “-thirty gifts I’ve gotten him, and he’s loved each one.”

“But you’re his best friend, Hizashi. It’s kind of an instinct now, isn’t it? Figuring out what he’d like and what he wouldn’t?”

“Maybe, but my point still stands. He’s easy to please, alright? As long as it’s something practical that isn’t over the top or ridiculous, he’s probably gonna like it. Like, I bought him a weighted blanket five years ago and I still see him using it when I come over.”

You purse your lips as you glance into the booths yourself, seeking inspiration like he suggested. Something practical, huh? Like a thermos or something? “It’s just important to me that he likes it, you know?”

“I figured that much.” A large crowd has gathered outside a coffee stand and blocks your path, but he grabs your hand to guide you through them, so naturally that you barely have time to internally panic over it. When you make it out on the other side, he drops your hand. The lack of warmth is stark and melancholic even through your thick glove. “And I’m glad you do. He deserves that kinda treatment.” With a smug smile, he nods towards a stray cat running between the stands, chasing a bird. “You can get him a cat.”

“I won’t buy him a cat,” you say at once. “They aren’t allowed at the dorms.”

“That’s a gift he’d adore, but okay, I’ll patent the idea myself, then.” He shrugs and pulls his zipper up further until it covers his chin. His cheeks and nose are dusted red from the cold, the gloss in his eyes adds sparkles to his green irises. God, he’s stunning. “You can buy him a nice pair of cat ears.”

“I thought you said it should be practical.” You stifle a laugh at the idea - Aizawa would probably look cute, but - “He’d never wear them and resent me for the rest of the year, so no.”

“How do you know he won’t? Do you know what he does and doesn’t do behind closed doors?”

“I- no,” you state firmly. “Is he-... you know… a yiff-enthusiast?”

Feigning absolute disgust, Hizashi gasps overdramatically and says your name in a beyond appalled tone, enough to catch the attention of some passing strangers just trying to enjoy the warm, wholesome Christmas atmosphere. “I can’t believe you! Shamelessly asking me about my best friend’s perverted, private activities! This is scandalous.”

Opening your mouth to protest, eyes wide as you refrain from meeting the curious strangers’ shocked eyes and hope they don’t recognise you through the scarf-beanie-jacket combo. However, at a loss for words, you squeeze your lips shut into a fine line and puff out your cheeks in embarrassment. Hizashi laughs in victory before you even have the chance to attempt a comeback, and though he’s godsent and beautiful and everything in between, the fact that you’re so obviously losing this matter of wits is almost downright humiliating. So, you spit out the first retort you can think of. “It’s fine if you’re jealous, ‘Zashi. If you help me get with Aizawa, I can invite you to watch us sometime.”

Now his eyes widen, though the earlier spark he had behind them quickly vanishes into sheer disgust and discomfort at the idea. His lip and nose scrunch upwards into a subtle grimace and he adjusts his grip around the bag from the vinyl booth. “Me? Jealous of him?” Though he glances quickly at you, he completely avoids meeting your eyes and looks at everything else instead. “Never, alright?”

Now, this hurts a bit more than you wanted it to. You thought - though maybe only hoped - that he would be as interested in you as you are in him, and everything seemed to point towards that the more you talked to him. Did that earlier glance really mean anything or did you just overthink it? If he didn’t feel anything for you, then he probably wouldn’t grab your hand like that… right? Maybe he’s just shy…? Though, then again, this is Hizashi we’re talking about. If he likes you he would probably have announced it to the world already. “Don’t deny it, I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

“I’m not denying a thing.” Which means what exactly?

Sucking in air, you try to keep up your cheerful attitude so as to not make it too awkward. He probably just sees you as a friend, nothing more. You press your fingertips against your chest to ease the heavy knot that seems to have wrapped itself around your heart, almost worried you’ll have a heart attack. Imagine ending such a nice evening in the hospital. “You can help pick the song for the wedding dance.”

“Because you can’t do that yourself?”

You add a light laugh to hide your hurt. “Yeah, I guess.” It’s not your fault that you don’t have the same passion about music that he does, right? At least you’re trying, even if part of why you’ve tried to understand it more lately has been to have a conversation starter ready when you see him in the elevator at work. Maybe you can still salvage this conversation somehow, though. Your eyes drop to the vinyl hidden inside the bubble wrap and paper. “Which song would you choose, by the way?”

“For you and Shouta’s wedding?”

“No, like, in general…”

“Well, that depends on the couple, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…” What is even happening? Things were going so well! You were finally bonding properly after such a long time as friendly acquaintances, and now it’s like he doesn’t even want to be here with you. Is the thought of him liking you that disturbing to him? “...for your wedding, then?”

“Depends on who I’m marrying,” he says. “I can’t decide that in advance, you know? It has to come naturally, like ideas for gifts and the like.”

“Oh, alright,” you say, physically feeling the conversation die flat by feeling your heart drop to your stomach. Maybe he was recently dumped or something like that, and that’s why he’s so sensitive when it comes to you teasing him about you. You bite your lip and glance inside the booths again to search for another, more platonic topic. Okay, back to square one.

“Maybe,” you lay eyes on a noodle booth. Food is practical, food is essential. “Maybe Aizawa would like food…?” Hizashi doesn’t quite follow you, evident by his silence, so you try to explain. “Like, could I get him a reservation at a nice restaurant in town, or something?” Maybe he could take the chance to ask out that cute detective from the police department, would that work?

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “At least he would get a proper meal for once.”

It’s a joke, it’s meant to be a joke, but his demeanor doesn’t match it at all. He doesn’t laugh to brighten the mood with it, like usual, he barely even smiles and even then it’s a mere half-smile that doesn’t follow through to his eyes at all. Still, you chuckle weakly in a cheap attempt to resolve some of the tension. If you say you’re sorry, then would that save it? But what exactly are you supposed to apologize for? You don’t even know what exactly you said that was so wrong that it ruined the mood like this.

You continue to walk further down the path in silence, still searching through the booths in hope that you’ll find something proper to talk about that doesn’t just worsen the situation further, if it even can get worse than this. At least he’s still with you, that means he doesn’t resent you to no end… at least…? Maybe you could go back to the vinyl booth, and he can talk about names you don’t know at all, so you’ll just nod along as he rambles, then he’ll ask for your opinion and you won’t know a thing, as usual. The whole point of why you asked him to come along was to not have the same interactions you have at work, though.

Hizashi halts dead in his tracks, so suddenly you almost stumble over out of shock. He stares straight up at a small green nest, and your heart skips a beat. A beautiful mistletoe hangs so perfectly above you that it’s almost painfully ironic. Its white beads and pale, frosted leaves blend in so well with the falling snowflakes that it’s almost invisible, yet the shiny ribbon’s crimson red is so bright and elegant it crowns it like the petals of a winter rose. Hizashi has been big on mistletoe kisses all month, joking a lot about what would happen if you two came across one. According to him, you’d probably “become so hooked on him that you’d fall for him right there and then”, but you had never ended up under one together.

However, it seems like he’s ended up underneath one with literally everyone else on Earth. He hung one up in the teacher’s lunch room exactly at 00:01 on the first of December, since Aizawa threatened to take down every single ornament he found throughout November. The single added minute is because he was delayed by graciously falling over on the step-ladder and almost breaking his neck - you know because you helped him. Since then until now, he’s ended up under it with Nerumi, Nezu, Ectoplasm, Cementoss, Vlad, even Recovery Girl, and Ryou, and he’s managed to sneak a kiss from each one. When you helped him, though, he said he couldn’t kiss you because he had a cold.

However, as you look up at him in anticipation and he stares blankly at the mistletoe above you, he actually says “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

From a booth further down the line, someone drops a glass ornament on the frosty, gravel ground. The poor angel figurine bursts with a symphony of sharp, ringing sounds of breakage, just to emphasize how much damage it suffered before it shatters into glitters and blends into the snow. Your breath hitches in your lungs, but you force yourself to speak up. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He blinks, eyes fixated on the mistletoe as if he’s trying to deduce if it’s actually there. “It would just be wrong, wouldn’t it?”

The fresh winter air burns against your waterline, the delicate snowflakes are acid on your cheeks. “Oh, okay.”

He calls out your name and finally brings himself to look at you. Right now, when that’s the last thing you want. “Something wrong?”

His green eyes dig a pit in your stomach so deep you want to keel over and throw up. You direct your attention to a discarded sakura mochi instead, laying atop the snow like a painted pebble. “No,” you blink rapidly to get the tears out of your eyes. The first ones are damp and heavy as they sink down your cheeks, the residual rivers pinch your skin as they freeze against you. “I’m just… a bit hungry. I’ll go see if I find something.” Before you even realize it yourself, you trudge down the snowy path with quick, yet heavy steps. And it takes every bit of you to keep from sprinting away from him and that damned bush of a plant.

You don’t want to cry, not in public, and for the most part you succeed in this self-appointed mission as you walk through the market. The square is still bustling with people, only natural since it’s so close to Christmas day, yet with every passing second, the vacant space beside you makes itself more and more known. It pokes your conscience and your pride with a six-foot metal pole, and you catch yourself taking impulsive left-turns to get away from it. But no, it’s still there, tied to you as if on a leash.

It’ll be a sure hell to see him again at work after this, he probably thinks you’re an emotional wreck.

Though the same could go for him, he was the one who absolutely couldn’t keep his disgust off his face at the thought of him having an interest in you.

Hiding your face in your scarf, you try to push his grimace out of your mind.

No, you won’t stand for this. You’re an adult, with an actual job, you can handle this just fine, and if he can’t then that’s on him. At least don’t forget why you had to come to this market in the first place. Even if the evening didn’t turn out as planned, he at least gave some tips on how you can find this Secret Santa gift.

Breathing out sharply to hype yourself up, you wipe the tears away with your fingers and sniff back the rest of your sadness. The lights around the booth openings seem to grow brighter, calling your name to make you look at the products lined up on the inside. You’re here, you’ve got an arsenal of options, let’s see what seems to fit best.

As if the universe is apologizing for the earlier emotional torture, you pass by a quaint booth at the corner of the lane owned by a lovely-looking old lady. She has several knitted articles of clothing on display, ranging from pastel pink sweater dresses to black and orange headbands. What caught your attention in the first place, though, was a black, knitted sweater. Other than being a fine mix between cozy and casual, it is obviously well-made. The pattern isn’t invasive and show-offy but has clear skill behind it, and the knitted wool gives it a timeless vibe. Especially now in the winter months, it would probably make the perfect gift for Aizawa.

You almost look around to tell Hizashi about it and hear his opinion, then you remember that you can’t do that because you, you know, ran away from him because you couldn’t accept that maybe he’s just not into you, and that’s fine. It’s just such a shame since you had just begun such a nice friendship too, after you’ve tried to get close to him for months, and now you’ve ruined it all in a night because you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut and thought it was a good idea to tease his non-existent crush on you for laughs, which probably made him really uncomfortable, as he has every right to be. Congratulations, you played yourself.

After paying the old lady for the sweater and wishing her a “Merry Christmas”, you take the bag with a smile and go on your way. Hizashi drove you here, but that’s a problem you can work around. There are enough public transport options in this area, and if push comes to shove you can always take a cab. Maybe you should order some warm take-away to greet you when you get home, as an act of kindness for yourself after beating yourself up so badly about a guy.

Imagine, growing this insecure over a guy. You’re not a teenager anymore, no, you’re a loved and adored, certified pro-hero who can accept the many mishaps life decides to throw at you, because that’s fair and square and part of life-

As you fish out your phone to check buses headed to your part of town, you feel someone approaching you. Boots trudge towards you, but come to a stop a safe distance away from you. You know who it is, or at least hope you know, though the thought makes your fight or flight response kick into high gear.

But no, not again, this can’t go on like this. You’re coworkers, you can’t avoid him even if you tried, so it’s probably best to quit this nonsense before it can escalate into ridiculousness.

He calls your name to check if you’ve noticed him. Though you hoped you’d lectured yourself enough over the past half-an-hour to be able to face him properly, you apparently hadn't. Hearing his voice, feeling his presence, remembering the scene unfold all over again, you just want to curl up into a ball on the snow and hope he’ll leave you alone.

“You disappeared on me,” he says. “Can I ask why?”

“I was hungry,” you lie and put your phone in your pocket. You turn around, but can’t bring yourself to look at him. “And on my way to get food I got distracted.”

He hums and says your name again to emphasize his next point. “Don’t lie, please. If you don’t want to tell me what's wrong, that’s fine but… don’t just leave. Did I say something, was that it?”

Snowflakes land on your gloves as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Would the fastest escape route be left, or right… If you just screamed at him like a pterodactyl, you’d not have to speak to him and he’d still get the hint. Your self-respect would take a hit, but we can’t have it all, can we?

No, that’s ridiculous.

“Yeah,” you admit with a sigh. “But also no, but yes- it’s complicated, alright? You wouldn’t get it.”

He shrugs. “Try me. I hate seeing you like this, so if you want to tell me, I want to know why.”

“Because-” You’re beyond ashamed of how you’re acting, but decide to push the thought away and lash out to get it off your chest. Any potential relationship with him is ruined now, anyway, both platonic and romantic. “Because you just seemed so disgusted by the thought of me, alright? And that hurts, but I get why I made you uncomfortable so it’s not your fault, but still! Am I really that… repulsive to you?”

He blinks twice, then furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. “What?” He shakes his head with closed eyes, as if he’s trying to make sense of you - even if you thought you were perfectly clear in your question. “Repulsive? Where did you get that from?”

“Because-” you look away and bite the inside of your mouth to prevent tears again. Is his memory that foggy? You gesture with your hand to help get your mind on track. “-you didn’t want to kiss me, because you said it would be wrong, and you didn’t want to discuss any-” you sputter around your words, cursing yourself. “-romantic topics with me. I don’t know! What do you want me to think when you act like that?”

“Hey,” he says with a hint of a laugh, and you want to run away again. Is he really making fun of you right now? He opens his arms to invite you in, “Come here, don’t cry, please.”

Though you thought you didn’t want anything to do with him, you find yourself falling into his embrace. He puts his arms around your body, resting his head into you. His coconut cologne is faint underneath his sharp, musky aftershave. You weren’t crying, but his touch is so overwhelming that tears spill from your eyes and you hide your face against him.

He laughs more and hugs you tighter against his lean body. “Were you disappointed, is that it? That I didn’t kiss you.”

You nod weakly.

Even if you can't see his face, you know he's smiling. It beams off his entire person, and he feels like he's having the time of his life. “Is it the wrong time to say I’ve liked you for months now?”

Your eyes shoot open and you pull away slightly to make sure he isn’t joking. He isn't, nothing would say that he is. He's smiling, yes, but it's not a smile of smugness or malice. No, it's pure, genuine happiness as he laughs at your shocked expression.

“You didn’t know?” He raises his eyebrows when you shake your head. “You made it seem like you knew about it but liked Shouta instead, so I didn’t want to kiss you because - you know - I’d just be hurt afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. “No!” you exclaim, then catch your own volume and calm down. You sniffle, but smile. Gosh, your eyes are puffy, they feel too big for your eye sockets. “I like you too!”

“Then we just misunderstood each other, didn’t we? Not worth crying about,” he uses his thumb to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. You smile at his touch. “Come on, stop crying, I feel horrible.”

Laughing with him, you sniffle again and use the back of your hand to wipe your tears away. “Gosh, I'm sorry, I'm a mess.”

"But you're a cute mess, so it's all good," he winks at you and you squirm at the flirty remark, though that doesn't necessarily mean you wouldn't love to hear more. He brushes a stray lock of hair into your beanie for you. "I'll have to admit though, you had every right to be upset with me. I acted like a dick, so I'm sorry too."

You scrunch your face up in disagreement. "Not a dick, per se, but let's leave it at 'we both could have handled this better than we ended up doing'."

"Fair enough," he says. "But, since we've established that I am in fact, not repulsed by you and instead madly in love with you, and you aren't in love with Shouta and instead madly in love with me, should we do something to have a fun night that doesn't involve tears." He catches another one spilling down your face with his finger.

"No, that's the cold," you say and look back at him with a sheepish smile and matching laugh. "I'm freezing."

"Ah, okay, fair enough," he tilts his head quickly and allows you to pull away from him so you can adjust your beanie. "What do you say we drive back to my place and listen to some music if you want? Or I can drive you home so you can relax-"

“I want to join you,” you say. “If you want me to.”

“I’d be more than happy to,” he says without question and punctuates it with a smile. “I’ve got wine and Christmas cookies - they aren’t particularly good, but that’s another problem.”

“That sounds great,” you smile and breathe out to calm your nerves. You nod towards the booths. “We can probably get some cookies from here on the way out if you want.”

He nods. “That’s probably for the best,” he looks up at something and smiles smugly. “And to get this out of the way so you don’t worry anymore.” He grabs your hands and drags you a few steps to the side before he suddenly stops. Another mistletoe hangs delicately above you. “Wanna try this again?”

Unable to keep your grin, you nod and put your arms around him as you both close the distance between your lips. He's so perfect, his lips slightly chapped against yours, and the warmth of his hands radiate through your coat as he holds your waist. His mustache tickles your skin and you grin against him.

Maybe your relationship was salvageable, after all.

[wings-of-a-storm]

So there’s a scene in ‘Love, Victor’ that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. It just fascinates me to a ridiculous level (probably more than it warrants, to be honest). It’s when Benji sings ‘Call Me Maybe’ to Victor at Battle of the Bands.

Yes, this moment! I have yielded to its power.

Like where the hell do I even begin to start unpacking the existence of this kind of moment so early on in the show?

To start with, I used to be haunted by the question: Was Benji actually singing to Victor with that intense eye-contact for the whole song or was the entire thing just “Victor Vision” and symbolic of what Victor wishes was happening?

And at first, my answer was: There’s just no wayyyy Benji could have actually done that! For the simple reason of HOW THE HELL WOULD HE HAVE BEEN ABLE TO JUSTIFY THAT TO HIMSELF? Singing a love song inspired by another guy, to that guy’s face, while the boyfriend he is super committed to is literally standing beside him, dropping phat beats on his bass to help the song come to life?

And yet…over the course of the performance, Benji starts to look almost angry/bitter/sad as he’s singing.

And as soon as the performance wraps up, Benji’s eyes are still locked right onto Victor’s as he steps off the stage. Like there is no searching, he knows exactly were Victor is and heads straight to him. And even more telling, once his Singer Persona drops off, he is nervously fiddling with his hands as he walks to Victor, like he’s waiting for Victor’s verdict of the performance. Kind of like: “Did you like it? Because I know how much you love that song and I sang it for you.”

I mean… Excuse me, sir? Consider me convinced that Benji really was singing it while staring at Victor the whole time, and Victor Vision just embellished parts. And you know what, that suddenly turns a fairly tropey scene into something so much more psychologically stimulating. Welcome to the holy trifecta of burning questions:

- Why did Benji make a cover in the first place? - Why did he sing it staring at Victor the whole time? - How did he justify it to himself?

The beauty of Benji's enigma is that the answers to those questions can be anything you want them to be. So many reasons fit, and so many overlap. It’s really rather fun to try and figure it all out, especially when there aren’t really any wrong answers.

So I guess here are mine:

WHY DID BENJI MAKE A COVER IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Fact: After sharing a fun Moment with Victor (dancing together like no one but Victor’s mother was watching, hah), Benji went home inspired to turn that song into a cover of his own. Why? Looking at it logically, their time together must have meant a lot to Benji, more than anyone could have realised. It affected him to the point where he had to preserve that moment, live in it for a bit longer, and also unpack it in his own mind in a way he’s most familiar and comfortable with: a creative outlet.

I love the idea of Benji listening to ‘Call Me Maybe’ over and over again when he got back home. At first just to relive the high he got from sharing such an uninhibited Moment with Victor (a rare occurrence after spending so much of his time walking around egg shells with Derek?). But then, after the nth play, getting the inspiration to make his own slower version of the track to better explore his feelings about that night and the way Victor makes him feel. Then finally re-listening to the song over and over again but this time to get the right chords and the right splicing/arrangement of lyrics that could convey his feelings but not completely cross the line into full on romance…

But Benji making that cover could have been inspired by so many tangled up reasons, like:

- He realised the lyrics were mirroring his own thoughts and experience, so singing it out loud was helping him process the harmless crush he seemed to be developing

- He wanted to preserve the memory of their dancing Moment because it gives him a dose of happy feels to relive it

- He may have partly intended to make the new version as a sort of gift to Victor that he’d one day play for him (maybe even at Battle of the Bands if Victor changed his mind and showed up). A gift that would further tie them together and cement their friendship, be a way to show Victor how much their friendship already means to him, and give back a little to Victor for trusting Benji with personal/embarrassing information about his guilty pleasures. Like a pre-Drawing gift, with similar energy

And let’s be real, also to try to impress Victor so that Benji can feel a little cool and desirable since it seems he doesn’t often get to feel that way around Derek. Like seriously, who can forget the lingering looks of anticipation Benji gave Victor when he first told him he was a Lead Singer in a Band. He wanted to impress Victor so badly. And who wouldn’t crave Victor’s sweet brand of attention?

Okay, so now Benji has a cover. But…

WHY DID BENJI SING IT STARING AT VICTOR THE WHOLE TIME?

Well firstly, how passionate must Benji have been behind the scenes if he was able to arrange a cover in less than 24 hours before the contest and prioritise it in band practice so that everyone was on board with his musical whim? (And how did he convince Derek to play such an unpretentious song?)

But I imagine the Intense Staring was probably a mixture of:

- Benji had probably spent a lot of the night hoping that Victor would miraculously show up after all (that mood of secretly looking through the crowd every so often throughout the night just in case…). And then when Victor actually did show up, Benji made the band play CMM even though they were still workshopping it, and got so caught up in his excitement and determination, he zeroed in on Victor hard and forgot to reign it in

- Because Benji feels something for Victor (even if he can’t name what exactly that is), and performance is a safe way to express the things he’s not meant to be feeling. It’s a safe space because when you’re performing something, you have the creative freedom to be someone else, to become another version of yourself, a persona, with the license to use whatever emotions you have in your arsenal to tell a story. Benji could express his yearning and fascination (etc) for Victor with the distance of a parallel universe or alternate reality. Stage Benji is allowed to stare

- Because Mia was there with Victor and Benji felt compelled and determined to win Victor’s attention back. You know, some good old fashioned jealousy born of insecurity -- that feeling of being a little insecure and protective of a new friendship, of wanting that person to just see you as special, of feeling like you have something to prove or you’ll end up forgotten in the background. (And maybe he was also a little sick of straight(?) girls having it so easy with the cute guys…)

- Because Benji subconsciously wanted to telegraph to Victor that he is interested in him (and is bitter that it’s not that simple) and wanted to see if Victor bites back. For science

- Or maybe because Benji saw a perfect chance to perform the song as a cute gift to Victor since he actually showed up, but then his intentions quickly unravelled into the prior points, haha

And that leads me to…

HOW DID HE JUSTIFY THE INTENSE* STARING TO HIMSELF?

(*Because even if the song was meant to be something innocent like a homage to an in-joke with Victor or a harmless means to process his feelings on this new and exciting friendship with an attractive boy, the intensity with which he sang it felt like something else entirely. It transcended friendship into a very ambiguous zone. And there was so much yearning in it. Particularly by the end...)

I think Benji probably justified his behaviour by thinking:

- It’s okay for Lead Singer Benji to stare at his muse while performing a story. (It’s just a persona, there’s no need for guilt!)

- It’s normal to be excited by a new friendship and it’s okay to want to sing a giddy song about that experience. And at worst, it’s just a harmless crush that will eventually fade once the novelty wears off. It’s not like he has any intention to do anything further with it since he is committed to Derek. It’s just fun to feel the tingles of a teeny crush…….

Alright, that’s it. I’m out. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left. Thanks for the ride, Benji, you mysterious, complicated, hopeless romantic.

[lemonietrinket]

Coward ||| Chan & Reader

Summary: you and your best friend that have been conjoined at the hip since you were little got into an argument 3 weeks prior, and you can do little to escape it Genres: Angst, but a happy ending with fluff Warnings: consequences of and therefore inferences to a big argument (actual events left vague), one explicit insult, poor language (2x f**k) Word Count: 2,099 Theme: Not a song, but this edit inspired the fic AN: guess how long I’ve had this here in my drafts? September 9, 2019. finally got round to writing it, even though I knew exactly what would happen this is my brain’s bs I don’t write angst super often so, I hope you enjoy!

High school/non-idol AU

~~~

With a sigh you let your chin fall onto your arms. You stared at your own muffled reflection in the glass as you sat on the windowsill, brain in a haze. The cicadas were chirping away below your hunched body, their chorus at its opening hook, and they would continue long through the night—much like the chaos next door.

You supposed, through the thicket of your thoughts, that you should be grateful that the swathes of bodies were just chatting loudly to themselves, instead of screeching to some awful trap beat like they’d been doing the week before. The speakers were playing full blast however, and it didn’t help a single bit that it was one of your favourite songs.  In fact, that was part of the reason why you felt so heavy.

Had things been normal, you would have been there, dancing and smiling and joking with anyone who would listen. But you weren’t.

He hadn’t invited you. Your best friend. Didn’t invite you—his best friend—to his birthday party. Over something so petty too.

You could barely recall the intricacies of the argument. All you could remember was his terse scowl, his soft eyes going from sweet to sour in a second, and the words that cracked like a whip and branded you. Your best friend was so gentle, with a heart of gold—you had seen him at his worst once before, what you’d thought was his worst, and even then you couldn’t imagine he could even contain the spite that then flew from his lips. Even if there had been warning for what could come, nothing further still could have prepared you for it.

He’d become a sort of cold vicious, insults thrown carelessly that then cut deep as if they’d been heated in a bare flame. “How can you be such a fucking coward, Y/N?” had been the one that had twisted as it was pulled out. It still snuck up on you, pounced when you thought you’d calmed down, and then left you reeling in unsettled hurt all over again. 

It never made you cry though. Not during the day. As night crept over the horizon however, it was a different story, and the cicadas’ call became a tepid siren.

You let the warm night air hold you, as if it would work as a suitable replacement, though you knew it would never come close. Breathing in the night air, you sank deeper into the arms of your jumper. It smelt of comfort, of home, of happiness, and the loose hairs there tickled your nose. It was as if your reactions were on a set delay, as it took you several seconds to realise that it was dog hair that was on your sleeves, and that scent was from the person that had taken the comfort away from you. 

‘He doesn’t want you anymore,’ you had to remind yourself, ‘you shouldn’t spare a thought on him.’

But there you were, moping nevertheless, your thoughts practically consumed by him. You couldn’t blame yourself entirely for it, because even as soon as you tried to lift your head away from the memories embroidered in your sleeves, you were still hit by the realisation that you were sat by your bedroom window—the very one that he’d clambered through unprompted years before. He’d been so desperate to escape being forced to tolerate his uncle’s ramblings about roadworks and his pitch to him to get him to come and work at his business instead of music. “Silly songwriting,” had been what his uncle had referred to it as, and your best friend always got a kick out of impersonating the man’s wily poshness. 

You used to chuckle every time your brain procured the memory randomly for you. Now, it just stung.

He’d always wanted to do music, and he refused to give in no matter what anyone told him. His parents had always been supportive, and you figured that was partly why he was so determined with it, though the sentiment wasn’t shared with his extended relatives that often visited. You’d always thought he was brave for standing up to them, it was something that you’d always wanted to do to your own for other reasons, but never found the words to.

You caught yourself in the loop, shaking your head miserably at yourself and the situation before you. How were you supposed to move on when everything around you seeped with him? The caps you shared were slung on the bedposts, the mess of homework scattered upon your desk, the guitar in the corner easing gradually out of tune. Even the night itself was his time. How were you supposed to hide away from the night when you’d spent pretty much every other one before with him.

The ember heat of anger rose in your throat, your thoughts spiking at the distaste of how no one seemed to take the jagged loss of a best friend seriously, at least to enough to help you. The heat grew wilder then; it was never directed at him.

With the sun set below the horizon you felt your lower lip quiver and you loathed its tenderness. You’d watched the sunset with him so many times, you could conjure the exact shades of gold and crimson in your head, it was just a hindrance that you couldn’t paint it without his messy dark curls in the corner.

A knock came from the front door, ad you found yourself counting its beats. Three, no sharps, just drawled pauses in between. You immediately questioned yourself on as to why it mattered. But you knew exactly why. Wishing one of your parents was home to go and answer it would not fix the problem no matter how much you yearned it to, and so you convinced yourself to trundle down the stairs to see who it was. It was probably only a delivery guy after all. Hopefully they wouldn’t try and talk to you unnecessarily.

Biting the inside of your cheek and settling your shaking lips into a firm scowl you swung open the door with a warning glare already in your eye.

To your surprise, it was no person holding a stack of pizza or a parcel of any kind, just a boy you knew too well, with his fallen-tipped eyes all downtrodden.

“Chan, what the fuck are you doing here?” you snapped, your hand itching to slam the door straight back in his face. The only thing that stopped you was his bitten lips. You hated how you knew him so well and that it left you vulnerable.

He drew a smile upon his face, but it was too tight-lipped to be convincing. You wondered if he thought you a fool to try and lie, but still you left the door open. “Too many people,” he finally managed, one fist curling in the cradle of the other’s palm.

“It’s your party!” you snarled, your heart’s leniency not transferring across to your words. You watched his lips hammer shut as his sad eyes glanced away, explanations or excuses—how were you to tell—pooling behind his barricade. You let him stew, the vengeful spirit seeking some joy in his utter discomfort and you didn’t have it in you to hold it back quite yet. The weeks he’d left you in turmoil etched across your mind, the insecurities he’d played on that he couldn’t use the ignorance-card for in the slightest too. You weren’t ready to forgive him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tag a ‘never’ no matter how much you tried. 

His response broke through the blockade of his silence. “I realised that I messed up Y/N, and it’s not my party if you’re not there and,” his gaze came back to yours and you indulged him, meeting his eyes and how they glistened, “and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

The vengeful sprite vanished from your shoulder, and you were left without a clue as to what to do. You wanted to forgive him, and he seemed genuine. He’d never pulled a stunt like this before, and you’d known him ever since you were little. But neither could you put his words to bed, and the actions that followed. You’d been to every single one of his birthday parties, you’d been such a staple to him that this wasn’t actually the first time you strictly speaking hadn’t been invited—because there was no way you wouldn’t have been at his side to begin with.  But this was a first, and it hurt. 

You took in the sight of the boy that you’d refused to even look at for the past three weeks. He looked exactly how you’d left him, only emptier. His shadow grew in the flitting light of the dying day sky, much like the ones beneath his eyes had already done. He was closed in on himself, the subtle confidence he always oozed nowhere to be found. You couldn’t picture his high tone catching laughter tumbling from his lips like this. Neither could you hear those sharp edged words on them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean it, it all just happened and... and this doesn’t fix it—I made you cry, and I hate that I did! It... it’s my responsibility. I accept that it’s my fault, and I’m sorry, I really am—”

You stepped from your doorway and took him into your arms. Three weeks was too long of a time to be from them after all, and you couldn’t stand the way the tears threatened to spill over both your eyes and his. 

He held onto you as soon as you fit against him as perfectly as you always did, hands clutching at your jumper while he nestled his head into your hair. Your tears dampened the collar of his sweater as you sighed, a staggered breath that only just pulled you back from crying entirely. You focused on him, just like you had done before, only this time it was less painful. You realised he smelt different than before, and it soon occurred to you that it was your scent that was missing. It surprised you to discover just how much of your perfume ended up all over him. It wasn’t like you were super affectionate and cuddly friends either. Your lips twitched into a smile without a single thought discarded.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying before your wide open door as Chan slowly regained his stability. All the midges were probably fleeing inside but this once you didn’t mind. You had your comfort back, and even though things weren’t perfect, you could begin to move forward as things should.

“You better make it up to me,” you ordered, a feeble laugh filtering through. 

He sniffed and its stunned you just how close to crying he’d been. “I know, I will, I promise.”

Rubbing his back soothingly, you eased him into swinging gently with the song. It earnt you a warbled laugh, but it meant his usual self was returning. “Do you want to play Mario Kart and see how long it takes for someone to notice?”

You pulled away gently hearing him chuckle awkwardly. Peering up you saw his pink tinged cheeks and wet eyes that he half-covered-half-wiped with his hand. He was the same old Chan you’d known for years after all. “Sounds perfect!” You smiled, helping him wipe his tears with the side of your finger which caused him to sheepishly smile and repeat ‘I’m ok, I’m ok...!’ 

Unsure how to handle the next part, you ended up leading him inside his second home with an awkward shimmy of your arms. It was meant to be a dance move, but it didn’t look much like one and it barely fit the theme of the song pummelling across the air. It didn’t matter to you though, it was really a test of the waters, and fortunately: it worked.

Your restored best friend giggled shyly as he followed, steadying his breath as he watched you shuffle through your front door. He would make all his words up to you, he vowed he would. They’d all been misplaced, all been resentments with himself that he’d sprung weakly on the first other he found, and of course that was going to be you. He was going to make it right, never let you down, help you with whatever you asked—no excuses—and maybe let you win a few times at Mario Kart. And maybe one day he would finally work up the courage to tell you the truth.

~~~

AN: i wrote a thing! go brain!

[edited: may 31]

Masterlist

[thiswasinevitableid]

PSL (OT4)

Prompt for the 14th was: Pumpkin.  The OT4, for new folks, is Barclay, Stern, Indrid, and Duck (every is dating except Duck and Barclay, who are metamors). This prompt could also be called “the silly things we sometimes do for love”

Stern absentmindedly taps the steering wheel as the last cars trickle from the visitor center parking lot. The last song before he dropped back into the NRQZ was “Bad Moon Rising” and so that’s what he taps in time to. The lights in the building can't go out soon enough. 

He’d only been in D.C  week, had skyped the others every night, but the sensation of missing them was so strong. It’s the trade-off, he supposes, for knowing there were three people waiting for him instead of the none he’d grown accustomed to. 

Even with the LAN, the signal on the Kepler end was too weak to show video most of the time, so he lay on the hotel bed, basking in their voices. Barcaly’s voice makes him feel safe the way a well-built house and a warm drink on a stormy night make him feel safe. Indrid’s is like something from  drem, familiar and alien all at once.

The car door swings open, letting in a burst of fall air. 

“Hey, darlin.” 

Duck’s voice makes him feel sixteen again. He never had a highschool sweetheart, but that drawl feels like it’s coming in through the open window in the summer air, promising something wonderful if he climbs outside.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

And then there’s him, sounding like a dork. But Duck just smiles.

“You have  an okay drive?”

“It’s been worse, and at least this time I drove past the city limit sign knowing where Bigfoot is.”

“In your room pinin after you?”

“I hope not.” Stern lies, blushes a little at the image. 

Duck moves to put his water bottle in the center cupholder, picks up the starbucks cup sitting there, and makes a face when he finds it mostly full.

“You feein okay? Don’t think I ever seen you leave coffee long enough to get cold.” Duck sniffs, nods in understanding, “uhuh, I see, not a fan of the old pumpkin spice?”

“No. I buy one every year, and every year it’s the same thing.”

“So...why keep buyin it?”

“Because it’s so popular and yet I don’t like it. It’s so frustrating, I feel like I’m missing something! And now I basically have this weird ritual where I buy one just to see if this is the year I finally taste what everyone else does.” He tosses a sideways glare at the cup, “I have to be missing something.”

Duck giggles as they turn down the street to his apartment, “Missed you a hell of a lot, city mouse.”

“Do you think Indrid will mind if I don’t come up? I’m ready to collapse, and his sleep schedule is so weird anyway-”

“Think you don’t gotta worry about it.’

Sitting on the foot of the outdoor staircase is tall figured bundled in sweaters. Once they’re parked, Duck leans over and turns Sterns face towards him, kissing him while running his hand along his leg. 

The passenger car door clicks open and Indrid’s hand appears. Duck takes it, winking once before leaving the car. There’s the sound of another kiss, and then Indrid bends down , bracing awkwardly on the seat, purring as he looks at Stern. 

“Hello, pet. I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Stern leans in without being told to, Indrid chuckling lightly before kissing him. 

“And yes,” Indrid says as he pulls back, “that surprise you’re thinking of will work nicely.”

With that, he’s out of the car in a rustle of fabric. 

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

His plan to surprise Barclay by waiting in the Sylphs room until he gets off shift does indeed go well. He gets fucked into the bedspread and cums with Barclays head between his legs, and that's not even the best part. 

Barclay is so happy when he sees him, clings to him afterwards, trails after him like a faithful dog as he puts his things away. They started sharing the room after the almost end of the world, partly because it’s further from everyone elses and thus they run less risk of being heard (Sterns love of letting Barclay know how well he’s taking care of him in bed stops just shy of letting everyone else know). It also acted as a sign that Stern meant to stay, somehow reassuring Barclay of that fact more than the agent’s own permanent assignment over the gate did. 

He’s never told Barclay the truth, which is that if it had come down to staying in Kepler or leaving the FBI, he’d have turned in his badge in an instant. Barclay alone is reason enough for that, and when you added Duck and Indrid into the mix, how could he be anywhere else?

Then again, maybe Barclay has guessed as much after Stern willingly dragged his boss into a closet to help them save the world. 

It scares him, knowing he might have put so much of his ambition aside to stay here. But it thrills him too. 

Right now, it seems deeply worthwhile; he’s laying on the couch, legs in Duck's lap, doing a crossword while the other man reads. The Sylphs are on the floor, Indrid using his claws to scratch and groom Barclays fur. They’re talking quietly to each other in what Stern now recognizes as High Sylph, Barclay letting our rumbling purrs as they do. 

Then he opens his eyes, looks at Stern, “No way. Babe, you don’t like pumpkin spice?”

Stern looks at Duck, confused. The ranger shrugs, “I told ‘Drid about it.”

“Just the lattes. I like pumpkin in other things.”

“I am the one who hates pumpkin in all forms.” Indrid says, handing Barclay his bracelet. 

“Hold up, not even pumpkin pie?” Duck sets his book down.

Indrid shakes his head. 

“But it’s a classic!”

“It is a trap. Pie is supposed to be sweet, not vegetal. And do not get me started on the wretched gourds themselves.”

“Do they make you sick?” Stern is already making a mental note to steer the Sylph clear of the bins of them by the Kroger.

“No. They resemble a fruit on Sylvain that is commonly grown near where I grew up. That fruit tastes sweet, like a melon. Not like horrid pulp.”

“Hmm, I wonder if seeds from one got through the gate and created the other.”

“Had to be the pumpkins goin to Sylvain, pumpkins have been growin in the americas for a long time.” Duck adds, then sighs, “can't believe I’m datin a fella who hates pumpkin pie. My mom made the best version in the world. Wonder if I can make it…”

“My sweet, I doubt even you are capable of as impressive a feat as making pumpkin pie not repulsive. But if you want to try, I will not stop you. Just go easy on the ginger, I am not fond of that either.”

“Indrid please, you’re breaking my culinary heart.” Barclay pouts. 

Indrid licks his cheek, “You will survive, sunburst. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check some futures. Joseph, you have a phone call.”

Stern stands, already moving down the hall  by the time the phone rings. Dating the mothman has some benefits. 

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

Barclay watches them go, rubbing his beard, then looks over at Duck with an unusually mischievous glint in his eye.

“Up for a friendly bet?”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Bet I can make Joseph a Pumpkin Spice Latte he likes before you can make Indrid a pumpkin pie he'll eat.”

“What are we bettin?”

Barclay smirks, “assuming those two are up for it? Winner gets to be on the bed, loser gets tied up and has to watch.”

“You’re on.”

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

Barclay carefully measures spices into simple syrup, Joseph watching him with his usual curiosity from a stool by one of the prep stations. 

“You know you don’t have to go to all this trouble right? I’m happy to keep doing my nonsensical fall ritual.”

“Know you love you patterns babe, but I love a challenge. Once managed to recreate Dani’s favorite dessert from back home out of apples, peanut butter, and marshmallow fluff with a red licorice reduction.”

He glances over his shoulder to see his boyfriend making a horrified face. 

“She still asks for it for her birthday. Or she did, I assume she can get the real deal now,”

Returning to his whisking sends bursts of cardamom and ginger into the ir. He inhales, content, just as the music coming from Sterns phone quiets. 

“You’re also looking for a distraction.”

Damn FBI training. 

“What makes you say that, agent?”

“Your posture, tone, and the fact you keep changing the subject.” There’s a sharp sound of leather soles on tiles as Stern hops of the stool. Then he’s in Barlcay’s periphery, leaning back against the counter, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. But if it’s something to do with me, please tell me.”

“No” he turns off the burner, sets the syrup side to cool, “not even  little, babe. I, uh, my first memory of fall on earth was getting exiled.”

“Oh, oh Barclay I had no idea.” Stern pivots, rests a hand on his hip.

“No one but Mama really does. It just means that all the stuff people like about fall; the leaves changing,getting to bundle up, building the first fire of the year, even the food...I still get this miserable feeling. Even though I’ve had lots of good stuff happen in the fall since then I find myself knowing what I was missing all those years. That was one of my favorite times of year on Sylvain that feeling. Having projects makes it easier to ignore.” When he turns his head his gaze is on the ground, “sorry, don’t mean to make things heavy when we’re just doing a goofy bet.”

Stern tugs him away from the stove, rests a hnd on each bearded cheek, “Thank you for telling me, Barclay. I’m sorry, I can't imagine how that felt, and if you ever want to talk about it...well, actually, Indrid might be the better person, but I’ll do my best. And,” he guides Barclay’s face up so he’s looking into brown eyes, stroking his cheek to coax out a smile, “I’m happy to be a distraction whenever you need me to.”

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

“Oh of course, how could I have missed that?” Indrid whacks his head into his notebook as Stern mentions his conversation with Brcly, “He told me once when in the year he was exiled, but I never put together what that corresponded to. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Me too. For now I’m taking him at his word that the bet is enough of a distraction.”

“Wise. Speaking of which; any luck, my love?”

“Nope!” Duck’s voice comes down from Janes attic. His sister is mostly sure their mom’s pumpkin pie recipe is somewhere in the boes up there, so Duck used his spare key to get into the house. 

“How’s the ltte?” Indrid dips his head to indicate the travel mug in Stern’s hnd. 

“I still don’t see what the fuss is. Barclay even used my favorite blend as the base.” 

Indrid looks down t his own mug, “do you want some of my white chocolate- oh dear”

“Ahfuck! Uh, ‘Drid, Joe? Can, uh, can one of you move the ladder back? Because I just kicked it.” Duck’s legs are dangling from the attic door, the stepladder on it’s side on the floor. Before Stern can grab it, two chitinous, slightly velvety arms paper.

“Just let go.”

Duck obeys, dropping into the mothman’s waiting arms. 

“Thanks, sugar.”

“You are welcome. Since you are about to say you did not find it, how bout lunch.”

“Sounds good. You comin, Joe.”

“Of course.”

‘...’Drid, you gonna put me down?’

“.......I haven't decided yet.”

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

“Okay, this one has condensed milk, less ginger, and a hint of caramel.”

“Mmm. Hmmm, no I mean, it’s not bad but it’s still not trendsetting.”

“Dang.”

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

“Jesus, why’d they keep all this stuff? These are report cards from first grade!”

“What is there to grade at that age?”

“Behavior, mostly. Huh, here are some cookbooks, maybe mom put that recipe in here.”

“While you search, I shall amuse myself with this box of photographs--you never told me you played trombone. Or had frosted tips.”

“That was one time in college, and gimme that box, you fuzzy menace.”

“Only if you come and get it, little human.”

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

“This one is salted caramel, pumpkin, spices, and vanilla infused heavy cream.”

“Nope, still not revelatory.”

“Grrrrr.”

“Was that directed at me or the latte?”

“The latte, but if you feel like being a little late for your meeting with agent Steele I can growl over you some right now.”

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

“...Thanks, Aunt Alice. Uhhuh, yep, talk with you soon.”

“No help from the extended family, I take it?”

“Nope. Just questions about when I’m gonna get married.”

“Oh dear.”

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

Stern sips from his Flathead Lake travel mug, the one where a monster becomes visible when warm liquid is poured in. 

“Oh my lord, Barclay, this is incredible! You’ve done it, I want to drink this everyday.” He sips as fast as his tongue will allow as his boyfriend rumbles out a laugh. 

“Well, yes and no. I did make that, but it’s not  pumpkin spice. It’s dirty chai with fall-spiced caramel syrup.”

“It’s amazing. I love you so much.”

Barclay laughs louder, reaches across the center console to squeeze his hand, “Love you too, babe. More I thought about it, more I figured you're a man of very, uh, particular tastes sometimes, and if you don’t like pumpkin lattes, you don’t like them. I’d rather spend my time making something I know you’ll love, rather than trying to make your tastes match everyone else's. I mean, I kinda benefit from your having weird taste. Um, so to speak.” He pulls up to the apartment, and as soon as the car stops Stern pulls him into a kiss. 

“Thank you, Barclay. I, um, no one’s ever gone to all that effort just to try and help me understand why people like something.”

“Any time, agent.”

Stern pulls his phone out, “I have something for you too.” 

Barclay reads the image of an email he saved, “You’re taking time off?”

“Yes. I, um, I was thinking we could go to Sylvain during it. I can't give you back all the things you missed being gone. But I thought maybe I could give you the chance to start making up for lost time. I love fall on earth; I want to learn how to love it on Sylvain too, with you as my guide. I want to do what I can so it isn’t a bittersweet time of year anymore.”

The larger man looks like he might cry, but Stern doesn’t get long to examine it, since he’s crushed in a hug. 

“Thank you, babe, thank you so fucking much. I, I’ve been kinda nervous to try and go back for things but I felt silly for being scared and I didn’t know how to ask and just...thank you.” He sniffles, pulls back with a watery smile, “Now c’mon, let’s go up. From the smell of it, Duck made pie.”

The apartment smells like the platonic ideal of fall, and Duck, streak of flour on his cheek, is putting the finishing whip cream touch on a pumpkin pie.”

“Where did you finally find the recipe?”

“In a book buried at the back of my closet, full of moms advice for when I got my own place. Haven't looked at it in close to two decades, and Winnie shredded the top cover, but the recipe was there alright.”

“Gotta admit, I’m impressed. That looks real fucking professional Duck.”

“Thanks man.” The ranger grins, cuts a slice and places it in front of Indrid (happily bundled in one of Barclay’s orange and grey flannels). The Sylph takes a forkful, scrutinizing it for a moment. Takes a bite, and chirps as he chews.

“Good?”

Wordlessly, Indrid stands, removes his glasses, and picks up the pie dish. 

“If anyone needs me, the pie and I will be in the bedroom.”

“HAH!” Duck whoops triumphantly.

“Hey, hold on, I gotta try this to see what the secret is” Barclay takes off down the hall after him.

“No, mine, AH! Unhand me, I am the court seer.”

Duck flops against Stern as he doubles over, laughing. 

“Fine, I gotta try it sir.” Barclays voice dips lower, and Stern sees him shift into his Sylph form. 

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, this pie is mineOHgoodness, put me down.”

“Wanna know the secret?” The ranger says between giggles. 

“Please.”

“I tripled the amount of sugar it called for.”

“Good thinking, ranger Newton.” Stern kisses him, “care to help me arbitrate a cryptid fight?”

Duck grins at him, love in every line of his face as laughter rings down the hallway, “lead the way, darlin.”

[smileyjaeminies]

Call me friend

Synopsis: Your relationship with Jisung is complicated to say the least. How long will you be able to put up with his mood swings and push and pull tactics?

Word Count: 4,1k

Genre: Angst, fxck boy! Jisung

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking

Member: Jisung, ft. some of Skz

A/N: When I started writing my Minho work, I knew it should be followed up with something about Jisung. I hope you enjoy the mess that is this fic, I surely did!

This work is based on Billie Eilish’s ‘when the party is over’, please listen while you read!

  What began as a slight drizzle, soon turned to a full on downpour. The rain struck harshly on the widows, providing another layer of background noise that blended with the soft sounds of music playing through your speakers. The song was one you were unfamiliar with, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much, all your thoughts surrounding the boy in front of you, the feeling of his arms around you and his tongue exploring your mouth.

  Lighting struck, making a noise too loud for you to dismiss. You jumped visibly, goosebumps standing up on your skin. You broke away from the kiss, raising your head to look out of the window.

  “What is it?” Jisung whispered.

  Your eyes skimmed the world outside, the wind making the trees dance and the rain making little puddles on the streets.

  “It’s nothing” you tried.

  Your voice failed you however and as lightning struck for a second time, you couldn’t repress a small squeal.

  “Y/N, are you scared of lightning?” Jisung asked you, rubbing your arm sweetly.

  You wanted to say no, hating looking vulnerable in front of other people, especially him. With one look at Jisung’s expression however, you knew he had already seen too much to be fooled. A soft nod did the trick, as Jisung graced you with a soft smile before hugging you close to his chest.

  “Do you want me to stay? We can just chill for a while until the storm blows off” he offered.

  “Okay… But we have to watch my ‘I’m having a bad day’ movie.” You tried to bargain.

  “Which is?” he asked curiously.

  “Miss Congeniality” you answered him.

  He grunted loudly, falling back on your bed. He didn’t bother to try to change your mind so soon after both of you were under your blankets watching the movie. You would jump here and there, but Jisung would always reach for your hand to console you.

  You thought you’d be too tense for it, but slowly you fell asleep on Jisung’s side. Waking up the next morning, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. You tried not to be disappointed, but your heart fell when you realized the space beside you was empty.

  He always did this. Always tip- toed against the edge of friendship and relationship. Always promised to stay, only to disappear once you fell asleep. Always went from hot to cold in a second, always managed to lure you back in.

  It had been a few months since the first night Jisung kissed you. You recall the small gasp you let out and how he used it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Since then, you had tried (and failed) to cut it off with him on numerous occasions.

  And yet… Jisung was like a drug to you. You knew he was so, so bad for you, but you couldn’t help sticking to him. So every time he knocked on your dorm door, or took your hand to lead you somewhere more private at a party, you let him. Because you couldn’t imagine a world where you’d say no to him, or at least, one where he would take it.

  As much as it tore you to pieces, this dynamic between you worked. And for every fight, Jisung would make it up to you with a wonderful evening for just you two. Even if he’d ignore you the next day in class. Even if he’d leave.

  You stayed in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep and cherishing Jisung’s lingering scent on your bed sheets. He smelled of pine wood, something about a body wash he used all the time. Suddenly, you remembered there was a party at Chan’s that night, a party you were expected to attend, to meet one of Jisung’s old childhood friends.

  You turned around on your bed to face the window. You wondered how Jisung would introduce you to this guy. Probably just a friend. A friend he frequently kissed and spent the night with. A friend he shared breakfast with and knew their order at McDonald’s. Just friendly stuff... Right?

  It was high time you headed to the library to get some work done. You got ready and walked the short way from your dorm to the campus’s coffee shop, to caffeine up and get to studying. On this Saturday morning, everyone seemed to be rushing to the library, and you couldn’t really blame them. With midterms coming up and deadlines soon approaching, everyone had their own load of work to get done.

  You chose a table near the window and set up your things. Opening the half-done word document, you let out a long sigh. This assignment was due soon, but you simply hated working on it. It was partly the reason you had texted Jisung the previous night, you needed a breather. Usually, he would be the one to reach out for whatever crappy excuse, only to come to your dorm and steal away moments of comfort.

  You shook your head, trying to shake away your thoughts as well. You did your best to concentrate and get at least some work done. After a few hours of furiously writing down information, writing and re-writing your thesis, you could safely say your mind was turning into mush.

  Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh before getting back to work. As you tried to word your argument better, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder, and someone pressing a kiss on your cheek. You jumped and were about to snap, when Jisung plopped down on the chair next to you, giving you his signature gummy smile.

  Your anger evaporated immediately, as you smiled back at him.

  “Hi, gorgeous” he greeted you.

  “Thanks for the heart attack” you whispered back.

  “You looked so cute, I just couldn’t help myself” he answered, resting his head on his hand.

  And there it was. By doing the bare minimum, he had you wrapped around his finger. And the worst part was, you didn’t even mind.

  You faked being angry, looking away from him and back to your work. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke up.

  “What time should I pick you up tonight?”

  That was a first. For the longest time, you would arrive separately at parties, despite leaving together each time. You tried to mask your excitement when you answered him.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Just tell me when to get ready.”

  “Does 10 o’clock sound good?” he asked.

  “Sure” you told him, nodding your head but not looking at him.

  “Can I get a kiss?” he whispered, inching closer to you.

  “Nope.” You teased, not tearing your eyes from your books and notes.

  “Y/N” he warned, his voice getting deeper.

  “Hm?” you asked, feigned ignorance.

  And you broke him. He grabbed your face, turning you to face him before connecting your lips. You drew away quickly, as your cheeks heated up. His cocky smile only made your cheeks burn brighter, as you kicked him under the table, murmuring a “Shut up”.

  He got up, holding his aching shin, to place a small kiss on your head.

  “Can you wear that red dress that I like?” he asked.

  “I don’t know… Can I?” you pushed him further.

  He shot you a stern look as he walked away. Tonight was going to be fun, you decided.

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

  A few minutes before ten, you found yourself sitting in front of the mirror, placing a few extra curls into your hair. You were wearing the red dress Jisung asked for, with a set red lipstick and black heels. As you were giving your hair one last look, your heard a knock on your door.

  Standing up to answer it, you weren’t surprised to find Jisung waiting on the other side. He was wearing all black, finishing off his ripped jeans and t-shirt with a black leather jacket.

  “Bad boy much?” you asked him, moving inside to grab some necessary items to put in your purse.

  “Fuck you.” He told you and you smiled at yourself.

  “Not quite yet.” You told him, pushing him out of the door.

  You made your way to Jisung’s familiar car that was parked in front of your building. You drove off to Chan’s place as a random radio station filled the silence in the car. You were humming to the song when you felt Jisung rest his hand on your thigh, which you brushed off as something he did now and again.

  However, when his hand started moving, pushing your dress further up your thigh, you knew you had to intervene. Placing your hand on top of his, you moved it on the center console, dropping it on there. You gave his hand a little pat when you saw it gripping the stick.

  “Behave” you simply told Jisung, who did nothing to acknowledge your words.

  Shortly after, you were parking the car on Chan’s already busy street. The faint sound of music got louder as you walked towards the house with Jisung next to you. Of course he wasn’t holding your hand or anything, simply walking beside you.

  You were about to walk up to the house when Jisung pulled you back. You looked at him, expecting him to say something, but he stayed silent, merely looking at you.

  “What?” you asked him.

  Again, he took a few moments to look at you before speaking up.

  “Nothing. You look pretty” he said simply, holding your hand and leading you inside the house.

  You tried not to think about your entwined hands as you walked in, already faced with a crowd of people dancing, drinking and smoking. You navigated through the well-known house, with Jisung dropping nods and hello’s here and there. You stopped at the kitchen first, where you fixed yourself a drink while Jisung talked to a friend of his.

  You tried to walk to the living room to find Chan, but yet again, Jisung stopped you.

  “Tonight, you stick with me” he whispered in your ear and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

  He didn’t bother to introduce you to the person he was talking to, only kept you close by holding your waist as you mulled over his words. He didn’t give you enough time though, so you were completely taken aback when he started lightly pushing you to the living room.

  You tried to keep your head straight as you walked in the room, finally finding some familiar faces there. You wiggled out of Jisung grasp to fall into Chan’s arms, thankful to finally be with someone on your side.

  Chan was your connective link with Jisung. You were proud to say he had been your friend first, as he used to live on the floor just above you in the dorms. Through mutual runs to the campus’s coffee shop and running different errands around campus, a friendship blossomed between you, one you maintained even after Chan decided to join a fraternity in his second year.

  He was partly the reason you met Jisung too, although you never held it against him. He was a good friend and always gave you honest advice. He urged you to cut things off with Jisung on numerous occasions, but your reply was always the same.

  “He won’t let me go”

  “Oh, finally” you said, squeezing your friend in your arms.

  “What took you so long?” Chan asked.

  “He won’t let me go. He’s being so weird today, I don’t know what’s wrong with him” you answered.

  Chan shot a quizzical look to Jisung over your shoulder before greeting him warmly. Changbin, one of Jisung’s best friends and also part of the fraternity, greeted you with a curt nod, which you returned.

  The party went on as you danced and drank, Jisung drilling holes into your skull every time you walked two feet away from him. At some point, you were tucked in a corner with a friend of yours, Courtney, when Jisung emerged from the kitchen, bee lining straight to you.

  “He’s here” he told you, forcefully taking your hand and dragging you to the door.

  A boy emerged, who you recognized from pictures as Minho, Jisung’s childhood friend. He was strikingly handsome, his jet black hair now pushed back away from his forehead, complimenting his fair skin. He looked put together, adorning a sky blue button down with black jeans.

  You didn’t fail to note how his eyes shined when they fell upon Jisung, or how warmly the two boys hugged. After exchanging a few words between themselves, they simultaneously turned to look at you.

  “This is my friend, Y/N” Jisung introduced you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

  At the sound of the word ‘friend’ you turned to look at Jisung. You wanted to scoff at him, after all the things he’d pulled today, ‘friend’ was how he introduced you. You remembered your promise to be nice when you met his friend, so you plastered a fake smile on your face and gave him your sweetest look.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you! Jisung talks a lot about you!” you told him.

  “I hope he hasn’t told you all the embarrassing things I’ve ever done. I think he keeps a list” Minho said jokingly.

  “I sure do! It’s alphabetized.” Jisung played along.

  And so Minho was led further into the room and introduced to a couple of other friends, before the both of them took a seat on the couch. You had just returned to Courtney’s side, when you felt someone staring at you. You glanced around the room, only to make eye contact with Jisung.

  He was doing nothing to be discreet, staring at you over Minho’s shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared back at him just as openly, keeping up your conversation.

  When he motioned you to go over to him, you slightly shook your head. You excused yourself for a refill and walked in the kitchen.

  “Jesus!” you screamed over the loud music.

  In the middle of the kitchen stood Changbin, face sucking a girl you didn’t know. They broke apart to look over at you, not bothering with a ‘Sorry’.

  “Get a fucking room. The kitchen is public space” you said, grabbing a Smirnoff bottle.

  “Fuck you.” Changbin said.

  “Why would I? She already is” you told him, pointing at the other girl and walking out.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” Changbin asked, following you.

  You pretended not to hear as you walked back in the living room. Changbin grabbed your hand, spinning you around to face him.

  “I asked you a question” he said, pulling you close to him.

  His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, but then again, yours probably did too. You were about to answer him, probably break his tiny arm in the process, when Jisung stepped in.

  He pulled his friend away, pushing him in a corner where they struck up a heated conversation.

  “Is everything okay?” a voice asked behind you.

  You turned around to find Minho looking at you curiously. You shook your head, suddenly completely overwhelmed. The blasting music and bright lights weren’t helping your case, so you moved outside without a word.

  You took your seat on the front lawn, moving your head to look at the sky. You soon regretted that decision, your head throbbing in dismay. You let out a whine, shutting your eyes closed.

  When your head stopped spinning and your eyes came back in focus, you realized that someone had sat down next to you. You were surprised to find Minho next to you, head looking up.

  An awkward silence set between you as you couldn’t think of anything to say. You took your chance to get some clean air, maybe too much as the wind came in contact with your skin, making you shudder.

  “Are you cold?” he asked softly.

  “A little” you replied with the same tone.

  “Do you want to go back inside?” he asked again.

  You didn’t need to think, only shaking your head no. He looked at you with almost a sad look on his face, softly cocking his head on one side.

  “I only just got here… I wish we’d had a chance to talk more” he said.

  You didn’t know how to answer him, so you just didn’t. Opening the Uber app, you tried to call for one.

  “You’re getting an Uber? Don’t you have a ride?” he asked you.

  “I don’t think my ride wants to talk to me right now” you said.

  The Uber was going to be there in seven minutes. You announced the new piece of information to Minho who simply nodded his head.

  “Y/N, can I tell you something?” he asked.

  You were getting tired of his constant questions, but you didn’t want to be rude. You nodded your head, turning to properly look at him.

  “I think you’re really beautiful. From what I’ve gathered from Jisung, you’re not seeing anyone right now, so I thought that maybe I could get your number? Maybe we could go out some time, get to know each other better.” He said.

  The world started spinning again. It must have been some kind of sick joke. Or maybe a test? You ran a hand through your hair, before turning around…

  Only to find Jisung looking straight at you.

  His eyes were burning with anger, his fists clenched on his sides. He looked from you to Minho, waiting for someone to speak up. At the end, he did.

  “So? What are you gonna do? Go on a little date to get to know Prince Minho over there?” he mocked you.

  “Maybe I will. Since I’m not seeing anyone right now.” You answered, confronting him on his lie, Minho’s presence long forgotten.

  “Isn’t that so?” Jisung asked, jumping down from the porch and walking up to you.

  “Hey, aren’t you happy that your two friends are getting along?” you asked, almost slapping the word friend on his face.

  “Fuck, I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you were this bad” he spat out.

  You would have liked it better if he slapped you. You raised your hand to strike him, but Minho held you back. You shot him an incredulous look, twisting away from his hold.

  “That’s enough, both of you” he said sternly.

  “What do you know about it?” you asked him, giving him a hard shove.

  Your emotions were overflowing from you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your hands were shaking with anger, your knees weak. The phone in your hand buzzed, announcing the arrival of your Uber who honked to get your attention.

  Jisung came up to you, your faces almost touching. You took a sharp breath at the close proximity, immediately cursing your body for the way it reacted to him.

  “You’re mine. You and I both know it. So don’t fucking test me.” He warned.

  “Fuck that. I’m mine. I’ve had enough of your shit, go find another rag doll to do whatever you please with. Don’t you dare came crawling back to me again. If I see you in front of me, I will end you”” You spat back at him.

  He was taken aback, almost falling when you pushed him away from you. His anger was short-lived however, now regarding you curiously, seemingly not realizing what you were saying to him. You turned to leave, but decided you had one last thing to say. You met his eyes, your voice sure when you said,

    “I told you once that I thought I didn’t have it in me to hate someone. But I hate you. I hate you so much” you told him, a sob choking you.

  He made one step closer to you as you took a step back. Your Uber honked once again and finally you turned around, walking in the car.

  “Please drive” you told the woman seating behind the wheel.

  You saw Jisung running up to the car as you drove off, but you weren’t moved.

  “Is everything alright darling?” she asked you.

  Tears were now streaming down your face, probably ruining your make up.

  “Not really. But I’ll live” you answered her, your voice breaking.

  “It’s going to be okay girl, I believe in you” she told you.

  “Tonight was supposed to be fun” you thought to yourself.

  You whispered a thank you to her and stayed silent for the rest of the short ride. Finally safe and sound in your dorm room, your phone started ringing, Jisung’s name dominating the screen. You declined his call, turning off your phone completely.

  Your head felt heavy, so without bothering with your make up, you slipped in your most fuzzy pajamas and inside your covers. Exhausted from the ups and downs of the day, you turned your brain off, falling asleep almost immediately.

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

  You were woken up from a loud knock on your door. You knew who it was, so you just shuffled deeper inside your comforter, hoping to brush him off. He was persistent, you’d give him that, knocking for almost fifteen minutes. He would call out for you again and again, pleading you to answer the door.

  All of it fell on deaf ears. And as your silence only grew, his desperation did as well. He started screaming, threatening that he was going to break down the door. He then proceeded to call you every name in the book, so loud security came to take him away.

  You spent the rest of the night alternating between crying and staring blankly at your ceiling. You must’ve drifted off without realizing, for you managed to peel your eyes open sometime the next day. You made yourself get off the bed and into the bathroom. The hot water cleared your head as much as your body and as you walked out of the shower, you had your game plan laid in front of you.

  You forced down some of yesterday’s leftovers, before burying yourself back in your bed. You tried with all your might to compose yourself and decided it was time to open your phone.

  The second it was on, a flood of messages poured in. You read of 110 missed calls from Jisung, with about 30 voicemails. A complicated array of texts was also to be found, a good portion of them from Jisung and also some from Chan.

  Taking a deep breath, you opened Jisung’s messages. You didn’t bother reading them, only started writing your own message to him.

  Jisung,

  You finally broke me, didn’t you? You managed to make me snap. I will not apologize for last night.

  The truth is, this is my last goodbye to you. I had a realization last night. That is one simple fact: You won’t be able to hurt me if I don’t let you. And I’ve let you hurt me for far too long.

  Starting tomorrow, I won’t be using this number anymore. I’ll start afresh and I’m leaving you behind. I’m going to switch dorms too and I’ll be staying over at some friend’s until that happens, so don’t bother to come over again. I know you know my timetable, but don’t make a fool out of both you and me in front of our professors. Security usually isn’t too far away and I’d hate for someone to haul you out of your own uni.

  I’m sorry I spent so much time on you. I’m sorry to me. I should’ve known better. But oh well.

  Jisung, I hope one day you come to know how good I was to you. And consequently how bad you were to me. Perhaps after this you’ll grow a pair, perhaps not. Surely I won’t be there to find out

  Bye now.

  PS: Don’t bother Chan to help you find me. He won’t.

    Not even bothering to read it through, you sent the text. It was read immediately. You even had time to see the three little dots pop up before blocking his number. You switched off your phone again for good measure, dropping it under your bed.

  The plan was in action. Step one was done. Steps two through four would be left for tomorrow. Step five would be the hardest one. But with enough time, you’d be able to let him go.

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Wedded Woes [9 / Final] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: Trelawny talked up a big game at a scenic boardinghouse and, playing some newly weds, you and Arthur are paying the price for it. WARNINGS: Some violence and shooting in this one, but nothing overly gore-y. NOTE: Aaand there we have it, the final chapter in this little series. I struggled with this, I had it planned and knew where I wanted it to go but I always have issues ending things so hopefully it’s good for all of those who have been following this fic! Thank you call for the positive reactions this has gotten, it’s meant a lot to me. c:

The ride back to the town outside of camp was almost an echo of the one you took out of it with the silence and tension. 

You had a poor sleep the night before, the thoughts of kissing Arthur in the hallway playing over in your head as you tried to pick it apart bit by bit. There was hatred that it happened the way it did, and after not exactly the best or bonding experience. Yet, there had been reminances of the feelings you felt. Someone solidly there, the touches to the back of your shoulders and arms around your waist. You birated yourself over the fact that it was all part of a role, you both were playing a role. You gave Arthur similar touches and leans and you doubted that he was as torn up about it as you were. At least, that’s what the bitter voice in your head had been saying. He had kissed you that first time, but he had admitted to it being out of confusion and anxiety about having more suspicion on the two of you. He had kissed you back somewhat with the second, but you knew better than to take that uncertainty you felt in it as anything but a sign that you shouldn’t have done it. 

It had complicated, too, with the thought that you had been starting to get used to sharing a bed with someone. 

Needless to say, the sleep you got wasn’t great but you got up easily enough in the morning. You figured you would have time to address it eventually, but at Arthur’s silence and his avoidance of your gaze, you started to just really want to get back to camp. However, you were anxious about that in a way, too. If you had known you would feel so complicated about the whole thing once it was done, you would have put up more of a fight with Dutch. Still, you couldn’t take back what was done and the take was a good one. They’d be happy with that. Thankfully, you were closer to a stateline, the carriage ride being a little shorter than the one you took up there, but it would still be a ride. 

One where you couldn’t even look at the man beside you without feeling some sense of frustration and embarrassment. You wanted to apologize, and you knew a time would come where Trelawny didn’t have to witness every moment of it, but as it remained it almost made it worse going back than it was leaving. 

At least back then you had some idea on what Arthur was thinking, now you just had questions. Had you overstepped? Was he angry? Was he as conflicted as you were? Would he even want to pursue anything if you admitted to feeling something? They were hard questions to bring up, and certainly not something you wanted to share around anybody but him. 

So, you kept silent for the most part, almost scared you’d say something to make the whole thing worse. 

“So, where’re you goin’ next? Gonna up and disappear on us again since this whole thing’s done?” Arthur asked Trelawny, causing you to glance at him out of the corner of your eye but you found your gaze moving back to the passing scenery again. 

“Oh, I always come back, Arthur,” Trelawny replied around a chuckle, “One can’t expect to find the leads I do while just sitting around camp.” 

“Ain’t nobody knows where you come up with them leads, so I’ll believe that…” Arthur returned with a short huff. 

“Well, I’m sure Dutch will have you back to your usual brand of fun soon enough.” 

You could only hope. 

“Yeah, then you’ll slither off to wherever it is you go until you come waltzin’ back in here with another job in a couple months.” 

“Hm. Well, I’ll be sure to suggest leaving you two out of anything that involves anything more than a simple pickpocket.” 

“Were we really that terrible?” you asked, despite yourself, as you turned your head slightly to glance toward Trelawny. He tilted his head slightly, rubbing at his mustache for a moment. 

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t say you two were the perfect fit for the job, but we have what we came for so I suppose it’s unfair to say you were completely terrible.” 

“I’ll be sure to let Dutch know you think that,” Arthur replied, his tone still light but you could sense something there. You weren’t going to look too deeply into it. 

You let the silence fall after that, turning your focus back toward the road again. Eventually, the previous night started to catch up with you, letting yourself fall asleep off and on throughout the journey if only to keep yourself from overthinking yourself into a problem. There was some lightness that came with the short conversation, much as it wasn’t as relaxed and celebratory you had thought it would have been a couple days ago. Which you knew was through your own actions, but...well, it happened. It was a kiss, or two you supposed, it could have been worse if you had pushed beyond that. If Arthur would have even let you. 

With another sigh through your nose, you shoved the thoughts aside as you tried to wake up a little more as the scenery started to become a little more familiar after a few hours of travel. 

It was early evening by the time you reached camp, gone only for a couple days but the exhaustion you felt made it seem more than that. 

You almost wanted to keep going, honestly, if only partly to avoid what waited within. Perhaps without the extra company of Arthur and Trelawny on their own horses, but you had almost missed riding in the open. You made a mental note to just go out for a bit the following day by yourself, but continued to keep pace behind the two men up ahead. Finally, you turned into some trees and down a path into a clearing with the familiar tents and wagons up ahead, Arthur calling out a greeting to the guard on duty. Sounded like John. 

Steering your horse off toward a free hitching post, you allowed yourself a minute to pat your horse on the neck as you noticed a familiar figure stepping out of the central tent. 

“Our own little wedding party! You are back…” Dutch called, jovial as he raised his arms up toward Trelawny and Arthur at the far hitching post. “All the more richer in spirit and money, I should hope.” 

“Indeed! Quite the reward, I believe,” Trelawny returned, pulling the extra saddle bag off his horse that he had tucked the money into once you had all arrived at the nearest town to camp. He passed that on to the gang leader, Dutch weighing it in his hands a moment before he took at glance at them and then towards you. 

“Well done!” he stated, “All of you! I think some celebrations are in order for your return and what you’ve brought us.” 

Great. 

You heard some cheers of agreement from camp, your hands coming up to rub at your eyes a moment but you couldn’t help the small grin that touched your face. Any excuse for a party these days, it seemed. You had only been to a few since you had joined, usually over successful scores or the camp in general just felt like it. It usually involved a lot of singing and a lot of drinking, two things you weren’t too sure you were up for in the moment but you figured you would get pulled into it one way or another. 

Though, seeing Karen making her way toward you as you got out of the saddle told you that would be sooner rather than later. 

“That was quick,” she commented once she was close enough, “I was thinkin’ y’all would be gone for a couple’a days at least.” 

“Things lined up, I supposed,” you said, offering her a small but tired smile. 

“Well come on, then!” she exclaimed, “Throwin’ a party in your honor and you’re lookin’ ‘bout as thrilled as you did when you left!” 

“It’s been a long couple days, but I could use a drink and a good song so…” 

The party had picked up shortly after you had relented to having a little fun before going to sleep and hopefully leaving this whole thing behind. Of course, a familiar unpleasant feeling grew at the thought, but you didn’t even want to address it anymore at the moment. Last thing you needed was alcohol and that at the forefront of your mind. Music and singing had closely followed behind as you sat yourself around a fire, Javier with his guitar as Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur seemed to be talking about something at a table. 

However, you didn’t dwell on that. Not really. The night went on fairly easily outside of a couple scenes pushed forth by alcohol, some amusing, some not so much. You had grown used to them in a way, you supposed, not that they didn’t catch a couple looks but living with a group of outlaws wasn’t exactly smooth sailing most days. Dutch kept them together but personalities clashing was inevitable. Karen had started to get her fill, pulled off by Sean somewhere that left you being pulled off by Mary-Beth toward one of the wagons where it was more quiet. 

It was surprisingly something you found yourself needing, and perhaps she had picked up on that but you couldn’t tell. 

“So what was the most interestin’ thing about it?” she asked after a few minutes, bright eyed and interested, making you glance toward her with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, a big fancy house, rich people, the romantic intention despite it being fake on your ends…there had to be somethin’.”

“You know, I had been thinking you would have been better suited for it,” you replied with a small chuckle, “I found the whole experience to be strange and uncomfortable.” 

Conflicting and confusing as hell, too. 

“Nothin’ happened?”

“...Between what?” you asked, a sinking feeling in your gut about her rather pointed question. It was vague enough but you knew she probably didn’t want the details to the robbery in a situation like that. 

“Well, we weren’t expectin’, but...with Dutch putting you together on that, I thought maybe it was a bit of fate that…”

“I...I can’t lie and say that those old feelings didn’t make the whole thing worse for me, but...I don’t know, it’s...it’s something I’ll talk about later when it’s not so fresh.” 

“I understand,” Mary-Beth said with a small nod, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t tryin’ to get you to gossip about it. I just thought...well, you seem a little odd tonight.” 

“It’s fine, it’s just…” 

Speak of the devil. Mary-Beth had glanced up as you glanced down, trying to collect your thoughts a bit as you debated on telling her anything. However, she knocked her hand subtly against your arm, causing you to glance up to see Arthur making his way over. He didn’t seem all that hesitant, but he wasn’t exactly overflowing with confidence. Still, you let the words die on your tongue as he indeed decided to walk toward you both. 

“Mary-Beth,” he greeted with a nod before glancing toward you, “I don’t wanna pull you away from what you was doin’ but I wanted to talk with you a minute.” 

“Sure…” you started, glancing up as Mary-Beth stood from where she was sitting on the box next to yours. 

“I should see how Karen and Tilly are holdin’ up,” she explained, giving you a quick grin before she turned and walked off. You had a feeling this would only add to her questions later. 

You glanced back toward Arthur as he came to sit down on the box Mary-Beth had left, hands resting on his knees as he tilted his head down in thought. Nervousness came back tenfold from last night, keeping back any questions you may have asked to start this conversation but Arthur had approached. You figured he should start and you could get an idea on what type of conversation this would be. 

“I ain’t all that good with words, least ones I can’t write down,” he admitted, glancing up and stared off into the fire lit darkness that had surrounded camp. “I just...want to know what the hell happened last night.” 

“I...this whole thing got me confused, and not exactly for the reasons I told you about before,” you said, rubbing a hand across your chin. Come out with it. There’s no other time than now. “I thought it wouldn’t get in the way, but…I’m fond of you, Arthur.” 

“Me?” he asked, almost sounding disbelieving, “This because we pretended to be married?”

“No, well…” you started before letting out a sigh, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. 

“I know you know the reasons for why...why I kissed you that first time, but...last night, did that mean anythin’?” 

“...Yes,” you stated after taking in a breath, heart pounding, “I just...your reaction. I have no idea if I stepped over a line or you just…” 

“...I mean, look at me,” he stated, “I thought you was just confused by everythin’, just some...old ugly--”

“I’ve liked you since I first saw you,” you blurted out, taking a small breath in, “You’re not old, you’re not ugly. Not to me. That’s been there since before this whole mess of a job. I’d just...I buried it down because...I’d just met you and there was that distance, then some of the other women picked up on it and I was lead to believe it wouldn’t happen from what they’d said. Nothing bad, just that...well, there was that distance.” 

“Christ…” he muttered, making you glance over at him as he seemed to be weighing his words. 

“I just...I need to know,” you continued, trying to keep your gaze on his as he turned to look at you, “Is there...is there even a chance that we could...well, be something?” 

There was a heavy pause after, Arthur dropping his gaze as he stared into the grass at his feet for a few moments. You could feel your stomach twisting, making it hard to sit still and not just stand up and pace around. Nervousness bloomed into anxiety that had you wanting to take all the words back the more silence situated. Yet, this was it. This was the moment to really know if it was really time to bury those thoughts and feelings.

“I was gonna ask you the same damn thing,” he stated after a few moments, shaking his head with a bitter huff, “Kissin’ you, you kissin’ me, hell I...I don’t know. I been beatin’ myself up all day ‘bout not bein’ able to say anythin’.” 

“Me, too,” you admitted with a sigh, his words filling you with a lightness you couldn’t describe while pulling you back down harshly, “If we’re asking the same question, I’m sure you already know how I’d answer, but…” 

“I ain’t an easy man to be with,” Arthur replied, “I’m a stubborn bastard, no good…” 

“You…” there was a hitch to your voice, causing you to shake your head slightly before continuing, “You really come over here to talk me out of this?” 

“...No. No, but I mean…”

“I’m not asking you to actually marry me, you know that right?” you asked, your chuckle a touch tense but it caused Arthur’s expression to soften somewhat, “If you want to try, I’d...I’d be more than willing.” 

“You wanna try?” he repeated, looking over your face. 

“Yeah, I’d like to,” you replied with a nod, “If you’re willing.” 

Arthur glanced away for a moment, almost searching before he nodded lightly, glancing back toward you. 

“Alright...I’d like that, too.” 

The relief that settled into you at that was something else, the small grin that touched your face threatening to spread into a wider one. Still, you just found yourself nodding again, bowing your head a moment before giving him an actual smile. 

“Okay, then we’ll do that.” 

Arthur rose after that, causing you to follow with him. You were preparing for him to leave to return back into the camp’s little party, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to do just that. Really, you couldn’t say you felt like you could expect much other than what he had told you and agreed to, you weren’t too sure what speed he actually wanted to take with everything. However, instead of walking off, he paused to glance back toward you with some visible debate in his expression before it seemed to fade into something softer. 

You stepped toward him when you noticed him closing the space between you both, bringing his hands up to cup your face before pressing a kiss to your lips. There was something much different about it, less sudden and uncertain, and it had you melting a bit into the feeling as you brought your hands up to grip onto the front of his jacket. You pressed back into it with the same intensity, something short and sweet but it had that hint of promise that you had been missing from the others. It had you lingering close once the kiss was eventually broke, smoothing your hands against the fabric of his jacket that you had been gripping, exhaling softly through your nose. 

“I can almost hear the mocking now once they’ve figured this out…” you commented around a chuckle, Arthur returning it himself lightly. 

“Yeah, well, ain’t their business and we ain’t gotta say anythin’ yet,” he stated, dropping his hands away from your face as you smiled softly at him. 

“That’s true…” 

The both of you had finally parted after that, you deciding to linger back for a few moments before returning to the party as you let everything settle in your mind. Really, you were surprised at how composed you had remained throughout that whole thing, though you figured you had already acted boldly enough the previous night anyway. Really, the whole thing had you pressing your hand to your mouth a moment to hide the wide grin that broke out, knowing this wasn’t the end of it and there was some uncertainty on how it would all play out in the end, but it wasn’t the end. That was enough. 

However, you didn’t get to dwell on that thought for too long as you heard some rustling of grass behind you, along with a chuckle. 

“Here I was thinkin’ I was gonna have to awkwardly step in, if only for my own sake.” 

The voice was familiar, but it put a jump to your heart as you turned around to see Hosea stepping out from around a wagon. You gaped at him a moment as he regarded you with an amused grin, tilting his head. 

“I noticed you missin’, considerin’ it’s your party, thought I’d find you out here but…” he started, “You two really fall for each other pretendin’ to love each other?” 

“That’s a...strong question, Hosea,” you said with a soft chuckle. He gave you a knowing look, but didn’t comment any further, giving you a pat on the shoulder before he started to walk ahead toward the camp again. 

“Well, come on. Dutch’ll least wanna thank you for your work before you disappear for the night. Now I’m thinkin’ he’s not the only one who’ll miss you ‘round there tonight.”

[btsandvmin]

Collection of asks 2 - BTSandVMIN

I had to make a second one because the length of the first one was getting way too long. If you are curious about some of my older asks here is the link to my first collection post - Collection of asks - BTSandVMIN

I have this post because I feel some of the asks I answer are worth saving, for me personally, and perhaps for you as well. But I don’t want to put them all in my Masterpost where I want to keep it a bit more structured for my longer posts and analysis. So for asks that are more about answering specific questions or about general things or my feelings I will put them here.

Asks are written more in the moment than my usual posts, so they might be less accurate as it’s all mostly from the top of my head. The newest ones will actually be on top, and then they will get older going down the list. I’ll update it regularly as I answer more asks. :)

Look at jhope's interaction with maknae line

Sorry for spamming with asks

You're so right about how any ship can be possible if you focus on it

I reject any idea of a couple being pushed to protect another 

What do you think of vmin’s busan forehead kiss?

About tae changing the choreo of fake love

What do you think of that famous ji/kook trip together ?

"Friends" doesn't speak about a friendship to me and the title seems like a way to "hide" the true meaning. Thoughts?

I honestly do feel his "best" friend is only ever needed when it's convenient to him

When j/k wore matching shirts asked them something like are u guys dating Its so differnt from his rn to vmin

Looking at th and jm for what they are or represented to be their bond shouldn't be taken at face value. Just reminding that jealousy amongst bandmates do exist

Jimin kissed tae on the pretext of kissing tanny. tae blanked out for a few secs after that

Jin in Jimins Festa profile this yr called Tae his "Bf" and then the next word is "best friend"

I dont think vmin or any other ship in bts for that matter are in any form of relationship right now.

Kind of agree with vmin not spending much time together outside of work & things they do/say barely even give off that "possibly a couple" vibe in general

IF feelings are involved, who do you think fell first and why? 

You already said that you ship them, but do you think that they're real?

I found it kinda weird how jimin apparently "didn't know" 4 o'clock was inspired by him

Have u seen that one radio interview in the past Th openly called out jm for liking men? 

We never see them hangout tgt I mean we have seen ji/kook tgt more often and tae with his wooga squad

What did you think about jimin playing the video game using tae's acc while the latter looked from behind?

When tae posted 'lets keep going for a long time i only have u' they probably only knew e/o for about 2 yrs and now we also know that at that time they still argued and fought with e/o alot. Yet they felt so strongly for their frienship.

What are your thoughts about tae choosing " my time " to recommend it to a non army.

If we look at their personalities tae is more of introverted and shy these days while jimin is more outgoing and loud. But when it comes the them jimin is always the one who seems cautious

Is it my imagination or is Jimin VERY loud lately? I feel like the roles have somehow been reversed.

The timeline of the dumpling incident really confuses me. 

Why do i feel like vmin dont hangout outside of work anymore

Just read your ji/kook vs vmin post regarding festa and I agree. you can tell that jm gets very serious when it comes to tae

A possible sexual relationship between Jimin and Tae. I've seen subtle hints where this might be happening behind the scenes like the recent bang bang con

Whenever joon says stuff like 'what a nice friendship/bcoz he is your friend' vmin have a very neutral or blank face

When do you think their friendship turned into something more?

Did u see how tae coloured jimin's name on the soft board with purple. 

Jimin recently in this festa says jk is his soul brother

Nj nearly always tries to underplay vmin's bond.

Sweet Night: “Sharing my fragile truth That I still hope the door is open Door' 

I feel like jimin was reluctant to talk about the dumpling incident probably bcoz it involves him getting drunk?

Your opinion on the whole "that's smth a couple would do" "you two look like a couple" for ji/kook vs "it's cause he's your friend "

What ur opinion is on the new kdrama that is based on homosexuality. 

Tae has many a times mentioned wanting to have kids or wanting to be father.

Taehyung has always talked about having a family, children and wife etc. 

I personally feel the maknae line in general have been advised not to do lives alone tgt bcoz of the intense shipping

I spend hours reading your posts and I could never get tired of it

I have a doubt about vmin  recently V is so close to JK it seems like V avoiding jimin

Taehyung talked about the movie Call Me by Your Name and its soundtrack

I honestly like how unpopular vmin are.

Let's say JM and TH have other partners - do you think said partners would be okay with a whole song of vmin declaring each other as soulmates? 

In the end there is no moment that is unique to a ship. do you agree?

Some vlives are arranged by the company and sometimes members themselves when the find free time they go live. 

What was the point of making a decision tght to come on vlive tgh infront of the fan to then not do it?

It cant be the company stopping v and jm from doing a live can it? 

Do you the think the reason vmin dont do vlive is because taehyung's feelings are one sided?

Theory on a possible reason on why vmin has not gone to do a vlive on their own for so long?

On bon voyage 3 j hope mentions how v and jk were hugging each other in their sleep.

Ji/kook is obvious (ear nibble) and Tae reacting blank to Vmin moments

But why they dont have funny bro handshake like v/kook?

You are so delusional like seriously how do you function in real life

You know how vmin called eo soulmates. The term can also be taken in a platonic way too right

If there’s a real ship in bts, can you give me your opinion on who?

Tae kissing jimin's cheek after they won an award in some music show (About ship edits)

I think vmin is real. Can you do a Sweet night analysis because in my opion the song dosen't match with the drama

Why are you a Vmin shipper if you don't think Jimin is gay or at least bisexual? 

I don't blame V and Jimin for not doing Vlive together

You know that blurry picture of vmin in 2014?

Tae and jk seem like the members who are most non straight to u and also that jimin might be straight so then isnt it more possible for t**k***k to be the couple?

Do you think that vmin are straight?

Can you tell me what makes you think jk is not straight

Ppl connect sweet night and 4 o' clock with vmin After tae's live yesterday n i m also seeing some ppl being offended by it.

Why do I sense that Tae has more of crush on Jimin (and realized it) but Jimi is oblivious?

Will you still publish that long vmin and lgbt in korea analysis.

Even namjoon said they should go live to discuss about their song.

I dont really consider minjoon vlive as one they did themselves. it was mostly organised by the company

Maknae line avoid vlives and  its really weird that jimi would do it with rm but not tae

Shouldnt it be easy for them to go live tght than anyone else?

Tae is very reluctant or scared to do a vlive with jimin

In the past month when vmin did mention about the song they just made superficial comments

Hi 💙 do you write vmin fics?

I also feel that jm is nervous to talk about the song even though he said he will in the comeback show

If jimin doesn't go live today as well maybe we can get a vmin live?

Vmin antis say vmin are not friends irl and use the fact that they are never spotted hanging out offscreen as "proof"

Will you do a Vmin throwback - 2019?

Can we even be considered delulu anymore for thinking not all of this is a coincidence?

Sweet night doesn't really fit the couple relationship in the drama

What do you mean when you say 'not being delulu'?

I dont know why after listening to sweet night i feel very nervous?

Maybe the lyrics to SN are very well just about the drama/webtoon.

Do you think the songs lie and stigma are related ? 

Namjoon talking about Friends 2 - Making excuses

Namjoon talking about Friends 1 - Can’t write about them

About the “Hello my alien” line in Friends

Do you think they gone do fansing this period of promoting?

Jm said when he wants to make and gift a song if he finds someone he loves and he actually helped write n produce the melody of chingu

Omg Ive been crying over the vmin song lyrics ever since they came out.

Thoughts about the song and what you took out of it

Its not a light hearted thing to call each other soulmate

This kind of debunks the christmas song theory… i feel sad like they are commercialising their friendship

Jimin is partly involved in the making and it will be about Jimin and Tae’s bond

I fear that vmin will become the next larry 

Chrismats song, smile awards. Arent those awards previously decided and even the words written for them by the company?

I was wondering if you're going to write something about bv4 and all the vmin we got there

Do you think that vmin say they love each other truly or for fan service?

Recently i watched a vkook video to compare

Do you know how exactly vmin met?

Whenever I do get the chance to focus on Vmin it’s usully one of three things

At the airport Tae had his arm around Jimin's shoulder but removed it quickly when they arrived in front of the cameras.

I don’t care if people don’t ship Vmin romantically. But with Vmin doing things like this you can’t really blame us if we do.

I got a looooot of asks on the Christmas song and I will adress the ones I have left all in one go

The reaction in bv was probably cause he wants to visits there and jm got there first

Vmin talked about tannie and how they went to visit tannie at tae's parents house

Just do it how you feel comfortable, we are waiting for your analysis

What video is the gif you post with this : Jimin and V talking about going to the Sapporo snow festival and playing in the snow together 

This break was an opportunity for them to be around other friends and family so maybe they just wanted to spend this time apart

Do you really think vm are soulmates? Sometimes i feel like we might be over using this word for them 

Once again thank you for all the asks you send! And also sorry for not being able to keep up and answer them all. I’ll try to answer some old ones as well whenever I can, and I will keep adding some of them to this list. I hope you found something interesting. Thanks for reading!