#I do think inherent talent exists and that practice can only take you so far

[bookmark-extraordinaire]

“Weeeh weeeeh I use AI art because I have no talent :((((((((( Everything I draw looks like a 4 year old made it :(((((((“ how about I kill you

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

In your infinite knowledge of everything and everything, do you know anything about being in a relationship with a narcissist person? Cause I think I may be but sometimes I also feel that I am thinking too much into it

The question you ask is, is their self-centered behavior at the expense of others? Are they exploiting, manipulating, or otherwise harming with ill intent due to their perception of them being more important than others, including you?

There does exist a healthy level of narcissism. As a person, you should think you and your needs are important. You choose who you surround yourself with to flourish you, not hinder you. When someone tries to push their self-image on another for their own personal gain with no regard to the other person's feelings, narcissism becomes harmful.

I'm sure you know, but I do tend to speak highly of myself. Mostly in jest and partially because at one point I only said negative things about myself. I found that it really wasn't helpful for me to be constantly with this negative self-talk, so I just started saying more positive things about myself, whether I believe in them or not. Is it true if I'm "super hot" and "super talented" and "super mentally strong" and "super humble"? Yeah. Maybe. (lol) But saying the opposite doesn't change the outcome of how people view me. Therefore, if I change the way I talk about myself and it helps me, I think I should keep doing it. I'm not trying to make someone feel worse, but I think everyone should see themselves positively and it doesn't make sense to say that if I don't practice it myself.

I think it's bullshit that you have to be overly deprecating to be considered humble or even that you must be humble to be considered "good". Why must someone speak poorly of themselves to be more pleasing to others? Someone speaking highly of themselves does not necessarily mean they are trying to put other people down. More people should see the good in themselves and acknowledge those parts to give themselves strength.

To get back to your original point, although narcissism is not inherently negative, there are negative connotations to it because, like everything, this is a spectrum and the extreme is very noticeble. (This is the case that you will notice them. They will be sure of it.) It's no secret this current world society is hyperfocused on comparison. Sometimes you see someone that has the confidence you want and you feel bad. That's society influencing your thinking. It is when a specific person flexes their confidence directly on you that you start tilting your head and thinking, "uh, wait a second here." Because this an act directed at you, using your insecurity to their benefit.

I said all that stuff about myself previously because there was a time that I didn't understand the difference between 'positive self-talk' and 'being a shitty asshat'. Learning curve, hah. For some people, you just gotta tell them, "Hey, you're acting really full of yourself right now. You're making people feel like shit. Shut up." Takes a couple times but you have to say it. You can't enable it and let it slide. (Maybe say it in a nicer way tho. XD) These people think their behavior is okay if no one objects to it, but that's because they aren't yet self-aware of their behavior and its effects.

With a true narcissist though, they actually believe they are better than you. You cannot change their mind. Some people even go as far as straight up gaslighting you because, in their head, "You're just making a big deal out of nothing. I am better. This is how it is." Their view of themselves is an absolute and you objecting to it is an attack on that belief. Now, I'm not saying that people can't change. Of course, they can, if they want to. But malicious narcissism won't, because they don't see themselves as the problem - you are the problem, and, if you don't fit their narrative, they will remove you from their life.

So, if this person is belitting you for their sake and they know and continue to do it, even when told time and time again, refusing to listen to reason, that's fucked up. I wouldn't want to be around someone like that, personally. I would talk about it with this person. Get to know their reasoning behind their behavior and actions. Some people do have personal work to do and that's okay. It's also okay if you don't want to be around as they're working through that. Everyone is at different stages in life. You can and should choose wisely when it comes to the people around you.

I want you to be healthy and happy. Sorry if that's super narcissistic. But also, not sorry. It's okay to put you first to work towards being your better self overall. I think you should. Tho, all this is just coming from someone who is super hot and super humble. ;)

[sneezemonster15]

Ohh my God…I'm reading Aristotle and Dante and i keep finding so many parallels to sns! Like when Ari instinctively saves Dante. Dante being the kid that wants to save everyone and Ari wants to protect Dante. Ari's brother in prison. (There's no rivalry, though), Ari denying what he feels for Dante.

People are ready to accept that Ari and Dante loved each other, but they'll never do the same for sns because they aren't "Canon"

What do you mean they aren't Canon, do you see the amount of parallels that exist between sns and other works depicting bl. 😭

I'm sorry I just wanted to rant about this somewhere.

Hey anon.

You are welcome to rant about SNS here, heh. It's what I do too sometimes.

Although I haven't read this book you are talking about.

I do get it though.

I am tired of most Naruto fans honestly. Even SNS fandom sometimes rubs me the wrong way, especially those who believe it's accidental. So many of them on here.

I ask them, what makes you think their story is accidental? Because they didn't say I love you to each other after all the text and subtext and visuals? How are you better than the antis when it comes to media perception? But you are ready to believe they are the world's greatest lovers that there ever were. What gave you that impression? Was it the writing and visuals? Yes to both. Okay, so why do you think Kishi drew or wrote it that way?

Japanese commercial manga industry is over seventy years old. Before Naruto was written, there were over fifty years of competitive manga art already being produced, and these creators kept improving, honing their talent. So Kishi had the advantage of consuming manga artwork written and drawn by these masters, who developed their styles and told their stories a thousand different ways, produced over a period of over fifty damn years.

These fans honestly think someone who has consumed scores and scores of manga wouldn't know what he is doing? They honestly think they know better? How arrogant does one have to be to think that way? Visual language existed way before manga, and origins of manga can be traced as far back as the 12th century. Do they honestly think manga artists don't know the meaning of what they are doing, and how their stories are perceived? You CAN'T write or draw a story unless you knew how it was perceived. Visual language inherently depends upon psychology and perception. Every single frame, every single action, every single composition of the frame, every single expression is drawn by the artist with care and precision, the greater the talent of the artist, the greater the precision and impact. Kishi used to take weeks to draw select artworks that required precision and details. Weeks! Accidental? Wow. Practice makes perfect and Kishi has only been drawing since he was three. And reading since he learnt how to. Started writing soon afterwards.

My problem isn't their ignorance, my problem is their continued faith in their ignorance without doing anything to learn more about it. This arrogant stubbornness, as if they have learnt all they could have learnt and their cups are so full, they are just not capable to fill it anymore.

Antis bother me too, but SNSers who stubbornly believe the above bother me more. How can you believe in something to this extent that it makes you 'insane' as you put it and not lift a finger to find out more? And then attack those who do? It's ridiculous.

Anyway. This was my rant. Heh. Hope we wouldn't need these rants in future. Hope we learn as we grow and grow as we learn. Hope we become better at understanding the world and thus, ourselves.

[goodlucktai]

(I feel like I should finish your prompt first but. These ones are so good....feel free to ignore if you have too many asks but 29 or 33 with chocobros...?

PROMPTS LIST

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

ik i just did this one for natsuyuu but...........chocobros

x

They're somewhere in Duscae, near enough to the coast that each breeze carries a hint of the sea, on another errand for another stranger to scrape together enough gil to eat tonight.

They've stopped at the last little roadside cluster of shops before the countryside stretches far and wide and wild, stocking up on what meager supplies they can afford.

Noctis has never lived this way before. He's never gone to bed hungry before. Neither has Gladio or Ignis, for all their world-weariness and the general practical knowledge and common sense they walk around with that far surpasses Noctis' own.

Ignis can budget with the best of them, and Gladio is willing to eat literally anything at any time, but Prompto is the one who gets it.

He chats at length about all the times he's had to get creative with pasta or rice because it was all that was left in his pantry. Back in high school, when he could only work part-time. When someone should have been taking care of him, and instead he was left to figure out how to stretch a tiny budget much farther than made sense.

"Come on, Iggy," he said once when they were out shopping, half-laughing. Like he thought Ignis was joking. "Fresh produce? We've got like a hundred gil between the four of us and we're totally out of restoratives."

And Ignis paused, and glanced sidelong at him. He put back the crisp, flowery vegetables and pulled out his little notebook and asked for suggestions instead. It took Prompto a few minutes to convince himsef that Ignis was taking him seriously, but now they like, bond over canned fruit.

"I'm gonna kill this catoblepas with my bare hands," Gladio says with feeling, leaning against the car. "I'm so godsdamned sick of pasta. Don't tell Iggy I said that."

Noctis rolls an energy drink between his hands absently, brow furrowed. It's tricky business, and he's not very good at it just yet, but home-made elixirs save them a ton of gil. He feels guilty when they have to spend their money on something he should be able to do himself.

"I'm telling him," he says without missing a beat. "He'll never forget, and he'll give you shit every single time you make cup noodles from now on, forever."

"I can't stand you," Gladio tells him seriously.

The bell above the door of the convenience store rings brightly, and Noctis glances up to see Ignis and Prompto walking out looking a lot more cheerful than they did going in.

Gladio's face does something very subtle and specific when he sees them, there and gone in a second, before Noctis can pin it down and figure it out.

"What are you two chucklefucks up to?" he calls over. Ignis immediately narrows a disapproving stare at him, but Prompto beams.

"I got a commission, sort of!" he says.

"A commission?" Noctis parrots, sending the energy drink back to the Armiger.

"Sort of?" Gladio adds.

"While we were checking out, the store-owner saw my camera, and seemed really into it," Prompto says. "Since, you know. It's unique."

Noctis does know. The digital camera hanging at Prompto's side has been with him since Noctis first bought it for him three years ago. He would rebuild it every so often, bowed over a collection of impossibly tiny parts spread out carefully across a dish towel at the kitchen table in Noctis' apartment. To call it unique is a bit of an understatement.

Gladio frowns, sensing where this is going a split-second before Noctis does. "And?"

"And he offered me money for it! Like, more than it's worth probably. A lot more."

"I don't see how that could be possible," Ignis says smoothly, leaning through the open window of the Regalia to put the shopping bag in the backseat. "Since your camera is clearly priceless. Which is what I explained to the man."

Noctis relaxes, glad that Ignis and Prompto have bonded over shopping to the point that neither of them want to do it unless they can go together-- because if Prompto had been in there by himself, he 100% would have sold his camera. He would have hated to do it, but he would have done it. It's like he thinks he owes his friends something just for letting him exist.

"Good looking out, Specs," Gladio says gruffly. Prompto waffles a bit, looking torn between pleased and embarrassed. Noctis decides to rescue him.

"What commission, though?" he asks.

"Oh, right. Well, he was kind of bummed about the camera, but he asked if he could see some of my photos, and Ignis said we had time-- "

If it were literally anyone else, Noctis thinks, up to and including and especially the Actual Crown Prince, Ignis would have said they were in a hurry and not to show off.

"--and he seemed really impressed! With the photos! I told him we were going to take down a catoblepas, and he asked why, and I said for some cash, I mean, clearly," Prompto adds, gesturing at the four of them and their general road grime. "So he, ah-- well he's never seen a catoblepas up close before, and he said if I could get some good pictures of it, he'd pay me for them. He gave me a figure, and it's, like, better than some of the jobs I've done for Vyv."

He's delighted, clearly. He likes feeling like he's pulling his own weight. Noctis is always so relieved when Vyv calls, not because of the inherent payday, but more because it puts this light in Prompto's eyes that Noctis would easily climb a hundred volcanic mountains for.

"Damn, Prompto, at this rate you'll have funded our whole trip," Gladio says. He doesn't ruffle his hair anymore, because Prompto actually hates that, just sort of scrunches his fingers through it instead. Prompto doesn't hate that at all. It's adorable.

Sometimes in the early morning, when he and Noctis are the last to drag themselves out of the tiny camper, they'll do their affirmations together:

"Gotta be our best today," Noctis will say, and Prompto will put on this absurdly determined expression, bed hair hanging into his eyes and cheek still creased pink from the pillow.

"Gotta get those hair scrunches," he'll reply gravely.

"What else did he say, Prompto?" Ignis says in a pleasant tone of voice that Noctis hasn't trusted since he was seven years old.

"Um! Nothing. Nothing worth repeating, anyway, you know." He is looking completely away from them now, an avoidance tactic if Noctis has ever seen one. "Woah, is that really the time? We better get going if we wanna catch that cow before it gets dark!"

He turns toward the car and runs into Gladio's arm instead.

"He suggested that Prompto's talents would be put to better use in different company," Ignis says, his voice carrying clearly over Prompto's whine of 'nooo, Iggy, let it go.' "He said that if Prompto ever got tired of our lifestyle, his door would be open."

Ah, Noctis thinks, followed by, ouch?

"Oh, fuck that guy," Gladio blurts. "Let me go talk to him."

"No!" Prompto clings to his arm, throwing all his weight into keeping Gladio in place. The Shield, who could bench Prom's entire body weight in one hand, lets himself be detained anyway and pretends to be annoyed about it. "Ignis, why are you causing trouble right now?" Prompto says frantically.

"Transparency is important in a relationship," Ignis replies.

"There's transparency and then there's causing trouble. Noct, tell them."

"I think Gladio should go talk to him," Noctis says immediately. But then Prompto looks betrayed, and it makes Noctis feel awful. "Ugh, okay. Okay. We're leaving. Ignis, Gladio, that's an executive order."

"Are you sure I can't punch him in the face?" Gladio grumbles.

"Am I-- yes, dude!" Prompto half-laughs nervously. "Very sure!"

"What if I just broke his nose a little?"

"Then that would be treason, I guess, cause Noct just said no."

It's with the standard amount of bickering and noise that they climb into the car, the top rolling up over their heads as it starts to drizzle. Ignis pulls smoothly back onto the cracked asphalt road and reaches over to turn the radio on; a peace offering. From the backseat, Noctis can see the corner of Prompto's smile, framed by a flyaway piece of yellow hair.

They live this way now, but they didn't always. Noctis used to have the run of the whole Citadel, had his own penthouse apartment, grew up dodging banquets and lavish dinners. It's not like he likes sleeping on the ground and having nothing to eat. It's not like he chose to lose his home.

But it could be worse. It's not a bad way to live, just Noctis and the people he loves best and these countless hours together. There's a lot of hard work and sometimes he goes to bed hungry but he knows he'll remember these days forever. He knows he'll miss them.

"Hey," he says, over the quiet sound of rain on the windows and the catchy synth-pop crooning out of the speakers. "Don't ever sell your camera, okay?"

Prompto says, "I mean, I wouldn't ever want to."

"Seriously," Noctis presses. He doesn't want to let it go. It feels important. "Your pictures are-- they mean the world to me, Prom. I can't even tell you."

His friend looks bewildered. He's half-turned in his seat, and his eyes stray to Gladio, then jump to Ignis, then settle back on Noctis. Whatever he's looking for, he seems to find it, because he smiles.

"Okay, weirdo," he says, "one fully-documented roadtrip, coming up. I won't leave anything out."

Noctis is counting on it.

[kthstrawberryshortcake]

BTS Reactions: Their S/O is an Actual Witch

a/n: I pulled from a bunch of different witchcraft traditions for this one, just to give it a little variety. Once again my own life inspired a reaction post concept :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, send some in please! I'd love to hear your ideas!

Please note that the spelling of magic with an added k at the end is intentional.

You already know this was minimally edited. Proceed with caution. <3

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Jin | tarot:

The first few times Jin noticed a deck of cards laying around your apartment, shortly after your relationship had begun, he didn’t think much about it. He really had no reason to, honestly. It wasn’t until he overheard you quietly talking to yourself while setting out cards on the table in front of you one evening that he even paid much attention. “Spirit, is there any more information you can give me about this topic?” you muttered to yourself before shuffling your deck, taking the cards that flew out and laying them face up in front of you.

Considering this odd behavior, Jin observed as you peered intently at the cards, the wheels turning in your head practically visible. After a minute you felt his eyes on you, instinctively turning to look at him, taking note of his bewildered and vaguely concerned expression. That was when he finally got brave enough to ask what on earth you were doing. You smiled at him, patiently explaining that you read the cards in order to get guidance or insight on basically anything in life, and that they often answered questions that would otherwise go unexplained or without clarification.

He nodded slowly, sort of understanding what you were saying to him, though still kind of giving you a weird look. You could tell that just then, Jin thought the whole concept was weird, but at least he wasn’t opposed to it as far as you could tell. Not everyone was even willing to entertain such ideas.

After a few months, however, he regarded it very differently, having observed your use of tarot over that period of time. You felt a surge of warmth and satisfaction the first time Jin entered your apartment, immediately stating “Get your cards, I need advice.” Thus he grew to appreciate your craft.

Yoongi | wicca / paganism / related holidays:

You never actually had a moment where you told Yoongi about your practice of witchcraft, and you definitely didn't get into the religious aspects. During the early stages of your relationship, you just kind of did what you needed to do without regard for explaining your actions. He definitely noticed the small things you did, simple things like burning sage. He didn’t act in response to this little action, just became more observant and curious about your practices and beliefs. Over time he just absorbed the things you did, then did his own research to learn the purposes of your actions. Unbeknownst to you, he had learned, entirely on his own, a great deal about your witchcraft. You had no idea.

One day Yoongi noticed that you had marked Samhain on your calendar in big red letters, and he decided to ask you about it. You were shocked when he inquired about your plans for the holiday, having been fully unaware of his knowledge of its existence. You explained to him what you were planning to do, and he surprised you again by understanding what you meant without further explanation.

A month passed and October 31 was only a week away. You were having dinner with Yoongi and the rest of the members, who were also your close friends. Conversation shifted to Halloween parties and who was doing what. Several of the boys had decided to attend a particular party, buzzing with excitement as they discussed costume ideas. They then proceeded to invite you and Yoongi to join them.

“Sorry, we can’t go. We have plans.” Yoongi replied, earning a scoff from Jimin. “Plans for a nap, hyung? Come on, for just one night quit being such a grandpa.” He complained. You didn’t know how to explain that you weren’t just being antisocial this time. Thankfully Yoongi beat you to replying, “Y/N and I will be observing Samhain. We can’t join you.” He stated matter-of-factly, warming your heart with his support of your beliefs, but thoroughly confusing the other members.

“You’re doing what…?” Hobi inquired, baffled. Yoongi patiently explained. “Samhain, it’s the same day as Halloween. It’s a pagan holiday marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the cold part of the year. There are various rituals and activities to be done to observe the day. Y/N and I will not be able to come to the party because we will be busy with Samhain tasks. As a witch it is a very important occasion, the witch’s new year.” You were impressed at how well he was able to explain the situation to the others.

With that, the other members backed off about the party, but they were suddenly filled with curiosity about you being a witch and all the things that entailed. The bad news was that you were bombarded with questions. The good news was not only were your friends curious and supportive, but Yoongi was supporting you wholeheartedly without you even realizing. You felt very lucky to have him.

Hoseok | astrology:

Not long after meeting him initially, you began to get the feeling that Hoseok was a skeptic when it came to more esoteric subjects. As such, you didn’t even mention astrology to him until you’d been together for a couple of months already. You were sitting at a cafe, sipping your warm drinks and casually catching up after a busy few days at work.

You thought it best to use something he was familiar with as a segue into the topic, so you brought up the concept of the Chinese zodiac and the meaning of each animal’s years, as well as how that is often seen as an indicator of compatibility for relationships or even just friendships. Hobi fully understood your point, though he wasn’t sure where you were going with the conversation overall.

You then spoke about Western Astrology and a general overview of how it is used to determine compatibility as well. You thought it best to keep it simple so he didn’t get confused. You explained that to be able to get the information you were wondering about, you needed the time he was born. Hoseok shrugged, because like most people, he didn’t know his birth time off the top of his head. You suggested lightly that perhaps he could ask his mom, remaining nonchalant in your tone, but employing the puppy dog eyes you knew he could never resist.

Only minutes later, he was calling his mother to ask for the information. You were pleased that you’d managed to get a hold of his birth chart, as that was the basis of everything you wanted to know, and you made a mental note to do some deeper analysis when you got home. Your greatest curiosity was the synastry chart for your relationship, a type of compatibility chart that overlays one person’s chart on top of the other. You didn’t expect to actually get Hobi interested in astrology. His indifferent tolerance of the subject combined with his willingness to seek information you requested were more than enough for you.

Namjoon | kitchen magick:

Namjoon, your beloved genius sweetheart of a boyfriend, was also a walking accident waiting to happen. His clumsiness was quite honestly an issue. You worried about how hard he was on himself, too, though. He was a dedicated leader and ridiculously busy at all times  thanks to his love for his work. As a kitchen witch, you did what you could to use your talents to help him.

On a day when he seemed particularly scatterbrained, you made him peanut butter banana toast for breakfast, with peanut butter AND bananas for luck and bread for protection and prosperity. When Namjoon was stressed about writer’s block, you made him your special hot chocolate recipe, with vanilla extract to promote calm thoughts and a sprinkle of gingerbread crumbs for creativity. When he was burnt out from hectic schedules, you made him lemon tea with sugar, lemons being for rejuvenation and healing, while sugar was for happiness and sweetness in life.

One evening Joon remarked how your cooking always made him feel better, and you explained that it was because you used kitchen magick. He’d had no idea until that point, and while he was shocked he was also extremely intrigued, wanting to learn more about your craft. From then on, Namjoon was always sure to ask what the food was for before happily consuming it, in awe of its efficacy as well as your thoughtfulness in making it for him.

Jimin | candle magick:

You really didn’t know how or when you should explain to Jimin about your inclination toward candle magick, or that you were a witch in general. You didn’t just stick to your own personal practice, either. You had a little business selling spell and intention candles online as well. You decided, however, that until you could figure out how to explain it all, you’d just go about your regular routine and activities without saying anything about them to Jimin.

What you hadn’t counted on was Jimin’s inherently sweet, helpful, and supportive nature. The first time he’d appeared when you were working on your candles, you really had no idea what to say to him, so you just sort of smiled and kept doing your thing. Your heart warmed when, after a few minutes of observing you, Jimin jumped in and started helping with your task.

The two of you were sorting components to put into the batch of protection candles. Most of the ingredients went directly into the wax, but there were a few you liked to put on top, which was what you and Jimin were organizing. Each candle was topped with black salt and sea salt, plus a piece of Snowflake Obsidian and a tiny pentacle charm, finished off with a cinnamon stick and a bayleaf half submerged in wax, half sticking out.

Jimin was helpfully making a pile of the topping components for each candle so that they would be ready when you got to the stage of assembling the candles. It wasn’t until the little piles were finished, the tins for the candles to be poured in were neatly arranged in front of you, and you had begun putting the actual ingredients into the candle wax that Jimin even questioned why you were doing this. Promising to explain once finished, you poured each of the candles into the tins and added the topping items.

Leaving the candles to cool and harden, you explained it all to Jimin - about your being a witch, about your candle shop, and about the purpose of the batch he’d just helped you create. You braced yourself for a bad reaction, conditioned to expect that after years of being bombarded with others’ distaste for your craft. Shockingly, though, Jimin just smiled and asked if he could help you make your candles more often, admitting that he’d had a lot of fun today, and that he thought it would be a great way to spend more time with you.

Taehyung | crystals:

At first it was nothing but noticing all the crystal jewelry you often wore. When you and Tae were just getting to know each other, he’d always compliment you on your style or on specific pieces, like a quartz point necklace or obsidian beaded bracelet. You knew your choice in accessories could be seen as a tad unusual, so you were happy that he seemed to appreciate it.

But his casual interest in your jewelry was nothing compared to the first time he came to your apartment. He was in awe of the numerous crystals of every shape and size that were scattered around your space, the epitome of an “ooh shiny!” reaction. It amused you greatly, especially when he asked you about your “rock collection” and where they all came from. They truly were impossible to miss, with many of them in every room of your place.

You half expected him to shy away when you started explaining the reason for your crystal collection and the purposes of each piece, but surprisingly he remained just as interested, listening closely in fascination. He asked specifically about the big pieces first, which made sense considering they were the most noticeable. You had quite a few amethyst pieces, as well as some large clear quartz and an abundance of huge chunks of rose quartz (your favorite, so you kept a lot of it around).

Taehyung was so intrigued that you spent over an hour answering his many questions, explaining the origins and properties of your various stones. He was especially interested when you explained that this was why you wore the jewelry that you did. By the time the conversation ended for the night (you were touched but a little exhausted by his enthusiasm after a while) Tae expressed wanting to get some small crystal bracelets to go with the bracelets ones he wore regularly, especially obsidian or black tourmaline because they were both for protection AND matched the aesthetic of his usual stash. You filed that information away, making a note to surprise him with a few later. By the time you’d been together almost a year, he was deeply into the crystal interest just like you were, having learned all their properties and even begun gifting some to friends for various occasions.

Jungkook | general witchy activities:

It took weeks and weeks of noticing unusual details about your life for Jungkook to even question why you did what you did. At first it was small things, like picking up on smells of incense and sage on you and in your apartment (after all, Jungkook has a very sensitive nose). Then he picked up on of how you would occasionally mutter things to yourself under your breath with intense focus. These things alone were perhaps a tiny bit odd, but all in all not terribly strange.

It was when you started spending a lot more time together that your behaviors began to seem weird to him. Like the little table in the corner of your living room that was covered with a bunch of random objects . On one occasion he picked up a cookie from it and started to take a bite, only for you to snatch it out of his hand frantically, scolding him for taking it.

Another day, he took a drink of water from a glass mason jar that was sitting out, Once again, you took it from him as quickly as possible, saying “you can’t just drink that without knowing what you’re doing!” Other than being a waste of moon water, thankfully this incident was harmless, but it might not always be if care were not taken.

Jungkook was thoroughly confused, and honestly, a little bit freaked out. He actually went to Namjoon looking for advice, literally asking him “why is my girlfriend so weird?”, leaving Namjoon doing his best to hold back laughter. “Jungkookie, she’s a witch. The cookie you took was an offering on her altar, and you were drinking moon water from that jar. I suggest you ask more questions and be more aware, then everything won’t seem so strange.” Thankfully, Jungkook followed his hyung’s advice, and there were far fewer magical mishaps after that.

a/n: I adore feedback AND requests! Please feel free to send some my way. <3

[kemifatoba]

C/O Berlin Magazine | It’s a space for everyone, and everyone can come in — Thoughts for the future

“I cringe when I hear words like ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion.” To quote the civil rights activist, philosopher, and writer Angela Davis, “diversity” and “inclusion” are terms that you, dear reader, might have also stumbled across in recent months, whether you wanted to or not. Inspired by global Black Lives Matter protests, mainstream media, corporations, and other institutions finally realized – in some cases as it seems overnight – that racism is also an intractable problem in Germany. Unfortunately, we need more than just hollow words and empty promises to solve this problem. You might be thinking to yourself: “But didn’t people take to the streets or write opinion pieces in newspapers to protest structural racism? And didn’t major institutions promise to offer diversity and inclusion workshops in discussion after discussion on television?” Perhaps, but don’t be fooled. Instead of critically questioning the role that white decision-makers play in perpetuating systemic racism, “society” was blamed. Over and over again, Black* people were asked to answer if they had really experienced racism through scrutiny of their real-life stories, while predominantly white “experts” were invited onto talk shows to discuss the so-called “racism debate”. Profound, structural changes are still lacking, at least as of the time this text goes to print. 

Presence equals power. This brings us to the current moment where you are reading these words about British photographer Nadine Ijewere’s solo show at C/O Berlin. Nadine Ijewere is the first Black woman to be given a space that has previously been occupied almost exclusively by white men. As such, this exhibition is significant not only for Black photographers, but for everyone more used to being treated as the object than the artist or curator in spaces like this where many people don’t feel welcome or simply don’t exist. As trivial as it may sound, visibility comes from being able to hang pictures on a wall—or write these lines.

Joy as an act of resistance. Nadine Ijewere belongs to a generation of artists and creatives who have realized that there are more options than simply following the traditional path. Knowing that society has long since changed—even if many gatekeepers in fashion, art, and the media still cling to the status quo—this DIY generation is creating its own platforms to elevate their own role models with an army of loyal followers. In their work, representatives of this generation create worlds that rarely center Eurocentric beauty norms. The same goes for this young British artist, whose work shows people in all their beauty and uniqueness. Her photographs regularly appear on the pages of British, American and Italian Vogue, i-D, or Garage, and she has collaborated with brands such as Nina Ricci and Stella McCartney. Ijewere proves that beauty is multifaceted and that fashion is fun and for everyone. 

More than a seat at the table. When artists like Ijewere make it to the top, it’s not because of nepotism, tokenism, or diversity as a trend, but despite all the obstacles that have been put in their way. And instead of assimilating after being accepted by the old guard, they continue to write their own rules. In Ijewere’s case, this means not only working with diverse models and teams, but also passing her knowledge on as a mentor to keep the proverbial door open. She’s less driven by the desire to stand out from the mainstream than she is to give back by inspiring younger generations, who are able to see themselves in magazines. “Within the time I have, I’ll use every opportunity I get and every space I can get into to expand the horizon of others.”

Representation matters. Celebrating Black people and people of color in a traditionally white space was also the goal of “Visibility is key – #RepresentationMatters,” a watershed moment for the German lifestyle magazine industry when it launched on vogue.de in spring 2019. The goal was to take first steps toward a forward-thinking future where inclusion and diversity would no longer be mere buzzwords, but lived practices. Part of that effort meant ensuring representation in front of as well as behind the camera. The results weren’t perfect and they might not have led to social change, but we proved that there isn’t a lack of creative talent among Black and Brown people in Germany. If anything, we proved that these talents are often denied the space to develop their full potential. 

Ideas for the future. As you see, dear reader, it takes teamwork to bring about long-term change, and for the first time the doors are open a bit. Nadine Ijewere's exhibition shows this, as does being able to write these very words in the C/O Berlin Newspaper. In the statements below, we asked German and international artists and creatives to envision a future where representation and inclusion are lived practices instead of rare exceptions. The results are ideas for a future that is reachable—as long as we all keep working towards it every day. Together.

Nadine Ijewere, artist Art is about art. It’s not about you personally. That’s why artists need to be seen as artists. We all get stereotyped and put into the same box—but we have our own identity. We are put into the same space just because we are Black, but we are all very different people.

Edward Enninful, OBE, Editor-in-Chief of British Vogue Nadine is one of the leading fashion photographers of her generation. She’s not only inherently British in her work, she’s also Black British. She really understands the complex mix of culture, fashion, beauty, and the inner working of a woman, so when you see her images, it’s never just a photograph. There’s also a story and a narrative behind it.

Benjamin Alexander Huseby & Serhat Işık, designers for the label GmbH Our work has always been about wanting to show our community and culture to tell our stories as authentically as we can. It was never about “diversity”, but about being seen. We want to create a world where not only exceptional Black and Brown talents no longer have to be truly exceptional to get recognition for their work, a world where we no longer are the only non-white person in the room because we built the motherfucking house ourselves.

Mohamed Amjahid, freelance journalist and author, whose book Der weiße Fleck will be published by Piper Verlag on March 1, 2021. It's time that Black women become bosses. Gay Arabs should get to call the shots. Refugees belong on the executive boards of big corporations. Children of so-called “guest workers” should move into management positions too. People with disabilities should not just have a say, they should make the decisions. Vulnerable groups deserve to put their talents and ideas to work in the service of the whole society. Not every person of color is automatically a good leader by virtue of their background, but all-white, cis-male executive boards are certainly incapable of making decisions that are right for everyone. That’s why we need more representation at the very top, where the decisions are made.

Melisa Karakuş, founder of renk., the first German-Turkish magazine For a better future, I demand that we educate our children to be anti-racist and to resist when others or when they themselves are subjected to racism. I demand that discrimination is understood through the lens of intersectionality and solidarity! I demand that even those who are not affected by racism stand up against it! This fight is not one that we as Black people and people of color fight alone—for a better future, we all have to work together. 

Tarik Tesfu, host of shows including the NDR talk show deep und deutlich When I look in the mirror, I see someone who grew up in the Ruhr region and loves currywurst with French fries as much as Whitney Houston. I see a person who has his pros and cons and who is so much more than his skin color. I see a subject. But the German media and cultural system seem to see it differently because far too often, Black people are degraded and made into objects for the reproduction of racist bullshit. I'm tired of explaining racism to Annette and Thomas because I really have better things to do (for example, my job). So get out of my light and let me shine.

Ronan Mckenzie, photographer The future of our industry needs to be one with more consideration for those that are within it. One that isn’t shrouded in burnout and the stresses of late payments, and one that doesn’t make anyone question whether they have been booked for the quality of their work or to be tokenized for the color of their skin. The future of our industry needs to go beyond the performative Instagram posts and mean-nothing awards, to truly sharing resources and lifting up one another. Our industry needs to put its money where its mouth is when words like “support”, “community” or “diversity” slip out, instead of using buzzwords that create an illusion of championing us. How there can be so much money in this industry yet so many struggle to keep up with their rent, feed themselves, or just rest without worrying about money is truly a travesty. If this industry is to survive then we who make it what it is need to be able to thrive.

Ferda Ataman, journalist and chair of Neue deutsche Medienmacher*innen A recent survey of the country's most important editors-in-chief revealed that many of them think diversity is good, but they don't want to do anything about it. This is based on the assumption that everyone good will succeed. Unfortunately, that’s not true. It’s not just a person’s qualifications that are decisive, but other criteria as well, such as similarity and habit (“XY fits in with us”). It's high time that all of us—everywhere—demand a serious commitment to openness and diversity. Something is seriously wrong in pure white spaces that can’t be explained by people’s professional qualifications alone. Or to put it differently: a good diversity strategy always has an anti-racist effect.

Nana Addison, founder of CURL CON and CURL Agency Being sustainable and inclusive means thinking about all skin tones, all hair textures, and all body shapes—in the beauty industry, in marketing communications, as well as in the media landscape. These three industries work hand in hand in shaping people’s perceptions of themselves and others. It’s important to take responsibility and be proactive and progressive to ensure inclusivity.

Dogukan Nesanir, stylist  The current system is not designed to help minorities. By giving advantages to certain people and groups, it automatically deprives others of the chance to attain certain positions in the first place. That's why I don't even ask myself the question "What if?" anymore. My work is not about advancing a fake worldview, but about highlighting all the real in the good and the bad. I strongly believe that if some powerful gatekeepers gave in, if representation and diversity happened behind the scenes and we had the chance to show what the world REALLY looks like, we wouldn't be having these discussions at all. I don't just want an invitation to the table, I want to own the table and change things.

Arpana Aischa Berndt & Raquel Dukpa, editors of the catalog I See You – Thoughts on the Film “Futur drei” In the German film and television industry, production teams and casting directors are increasingly looking for a “diverse” cast. Casting calls are almost exclusively formulated by white people who profit from telling stories of people of color and Black people by using them, but without changing their own structures in the process. Application requirements and selection processes in film schools even shut out marginalized people by denying them the opportunities that come with being in these institutions. People of color and migrants as well as Black, indigenous, Jewish, queer, and disabled people can all tell stories, too. Production companies need to understand that expertise doesn’t necessarily come with a film degree.

Vanessa Vu & Minh Thu Tran, hosts of the podcast Rice and Shine  It may be convenient to ignore entire groups, but we are and have been so much more for a very long time. We contribute to culture by making films or plays and bring new perspectives to science, politics, and journalism. We’re Olympic athletes, curators, artists, singers, dancers, and inventors. We dazzle and shine despite not always being seen. Because we have each other and we’ve created opportunities to do the things we love. We’ve created platforms for each other and built communities. Slowly but surely we are finally getting applause and recognition for the fact that we exist. That's nice. But what we really need is not just the opportunity to exist, but the opportunity to continue to grow and to stop basing our work primarily on self-exploitation. We need security, reliability, and money. That's the hard currency of recognition. That would mean being truly seen.

*Black is a political self-designation and is capitalized to indicate that being Black is about connectedness due to shared experiences of racism.

Written by: Alexandra Bondi de Antoni & Kemi Fatoba C/O Berlin Magazine April 2021

[welllpthisishappening]

The Couples That We Know

Technically speaking, they’re not supposed to be dating. Each other, at least. 

For Killian Jones, there are plenty of reasons to like working at Pendragon Publishing. Good pay, vaguely acceptable benefits, not-that-bad coffee in the break room. But there are also some things he kind of, sort of...hates. Namely the way dating his co-worker is possibly against the rules, and how that means they can’t go to the annual holiday party. Together, at least. 

So, enlisting the help of their best friends only makes sense. Pretend to date other people, avoid any hint of suspicion, and drink all the wine Pendragon’s party-planning committee can offer them. Perfect plan, really. 

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Rating: Still teen, still with some kissing Word Count: 6.1K AN: As promised, the onslaught of Christmas fic continues. This one somehow has secret dating and fake dating because I know no trope limits. Also it almost sort of follows the prompt @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt​​ sent in, which was "we’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years." Attempts to follow the prompt were almost made. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s your Christmas jam. 

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“You know, for this to work, you’ve got to actually stop staring at her. At least without quite so much palpable longing.” Opening his mouth, Killian has every intention of announcing how little he’s staring, but that would be a rather awful lie and it’s probably wrong to lie at Christmas. Or at least two and a half weeks before. Plus, Mary Margaret’s face makes even the thought of saying whatever he hadn’t entirely come up with impossible. 

“You going to give me detention?” “I’m seriously considering it.” He sighs. Dramatically. Nearly lets his chin slump towards his chest, which would add more than a fair share of melo to that aforementioned drama, and—“You think this is a dumb idea?” Mary Margaret’s eyes widen. 

Her lips practically disappear when she pushes them together that way, and Killian has to bite the side of his tongue so he doesn’t make some sort of teacher-based quip again. He really cannot afford to get sent to detention. Metaphorical, or otherwise. 

“There’s no possible way for me to tell you, again, how dumb this idea is,” Mary Margaret says, and that might be the most scathing string of words he’s ever heard out of her. Telling Emma suddenly becomes something of a necessity, and that’s a problem. 

The crux of their problem, really. 

Eyes flitting up, Killian ignores the wholly out-of-character sound Mary Margaret lets out when his gaze darts across the room and lingers on hair that’s looking shinier than usual, as if it’s trying to distract him and overwhelm him, and both things happening simultaneously is almost too much for his brain to deal with. When he’s had two glasses of wine, already. 

It’s not the best wine, actually. Killian’s not surprised. Pendragon Publishing is not especially well known for its money-spending efforts, and the annual holiday party is no different. Funded by some half-hearted party committee, that is very likely controlled by just one person, that same person does not appear to have an eye for decorating. If the copious amount of mistletoe hanging everywhere is any indication. 

And the whole thing exists to drive Killian insane. Both the mistletoe, and the party. Or so he will argue. When Mary Margaret inevitably points out what a dumb idea this is, again. 

She’s totally going to say it again. 

“It’s going to work,” Killian mutters, but it sounds inherently unenthusiastic, and Mary Margaret’s eyes cannot widen anymore. They’ll fall out. Which will cause a scene, he imagines. 

And they’re trying to avoid that. 

Or, well—avoid breaking the rules, technically. They don’t want to do that. Because Pendragon might host shitty holiday parties, but it’s one of the most well-known agencies in the Tri-State area, and both Killian and Emma like their jobs. They like each other too. 

Deciding to date wasn’t really part of the plan. But she makes him smile, and he considers the ability to make her consistently laugh one of his better talents, and they’re really good at kissing each other. Which is something they’ve been doing for far longer than anyone realizes. Months, actually. With post-work dinners, and weekends spent together, and Killian has started to find it harder and harder to leave her apartment in the morning, because he keeps staying at her apartment all night, and not proclaiming several rather life-altering strings of words is becoming more and more difficult. 

Which brings them right back to the crux of the problem. Pendragon’s holiday party, and its presumably boxed wine, and dating other employees isn’t explicitly mentioned in the employee handbook, but it’s very likely frowned upon and showing up here together wasn’t a feasible option. No matter how much he wanted it to be. 

Showing with other people, though. That made sense. 

It made—sense adjacent. 

“Did I tell you that you look nice?” Tilting her head, Mary Margaret’s gaze turns appraising and she wasn’t particularly pleased about having to take her ring off. It hangs on a chain that’s only occasionally fallen over the front of her dress, and David thought the whole thing was hysterical. 

He sent “Mary Margaret 101” facts to Killian all week. 

“You don’t have to actually woo me,” Mary Margaret counters, but there’s a bit of color on her cheeks that doesn’t have anything to do with the heat in this rented loft. It’s very warm. 

“No woo’ing, just facts. Should that dress look familiar, though?” “Depends on how often you’re rummaging around the back corner of Emma’s closet.” “Not that often, but—” Mary Margaret nods before he can get the rest of the question out, smiling over the top of her glass. Filled nearly to the brim with wine that may actually be capable of eroding paint. It’s so bad. That’s probably not a metaphor for anything. 

“You’ve really got to stop staring, it makes you look like a crazy person,” she adds, and to prove how capable he is of following direction Killian’s does the exact opposite. Back towards his girlfriend, and there wasn’t really a ton of planning before they dove into the deep end of this totally legitimate, absolutely will not blow up in their face plan. 

Will’s arm is slung over Emma’s shoulders. “Can’t clench your jaw like that, either,” Mary Margaret mutters. Keeping the laugh out of her voice is seemingly impossible. 

And rolling his whole head is juvenile, but Killian’s starting to feel a little drunk. Without any of the fun benefits. His head hurts. “Should have come up with a list.” “I could if you want.” “I do not, no.” Mary Margaret’s smile is a hint more honest, that time. It really is a nice dress. “That’s what I figured,” she says, tugging on his tie familiarly. “But you look like you’re going to challenge your own best friend to a duel.” “Swords are a requirement for that, aren’t they?” “Alexander Hamilton.” “Excuse me?” “Dueled with pistols, so—” “—Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays?” Snickering, Mary Margaret bumps her hip with his and there are at least ten unopened texts from David on Killian’s phone. Demanding update for what he was regularly referring to The Great Idiot Romance of 2020 . Although, he never mentioned that in front of Emma. 

Who very likely would have won that duel, should it have occurred. 

“Alright,” Mary Margaret sighs, like she hasn’t already agreed to a whole night of this, “we should probably mingle, if we’re going to make this look legit.” “Say legit again, please.” She sticks her tongue out. 

“Not a very good argument, Ms. Blanchard,” he chuckles, shifting his hand to the small of her back and he supposes he should eat something. To sop up all the wine. Her expression doesn’t change. Might get more scowl-like, if anything. 

And there’s likely no reason for Emma’s neck to twist the way it does, except something else vaguely melodramatic that Killian cannot think about for the next four hours, but she does and he stands up a little straighter. Presumably, at least. Mary Margaret’s reproachful tongue click is very loud. 

But then Emma’s eyes are widening as well, and her lips are slightly twisted and Killian does a God awful job of winking at her. 

He swears he can hear laugh — across the whole loft. Four hours at this stupid thing, max. Then he’s going to make out with his girlfriend. For possibly four hours straight. Which he imagines is a record of some sort. 

“Food,” Mary Margaret declares, fingers back on his tie and she makes him eat four bacon-covered somethings before they leave the table. 

To mingle. As is required by polite society and Mary Margaret Blanchard soon-to-be Nolan, and Killian quickly loses track of the number of people they smile at and the few others they nod in the general direction of, and he really should have been better prepared soon-to-be to evolve into a problem. He’s not. And Aurora’s gasp catches him off guard.  

“Oh,” she cries, hands flying to her cheeks in the middle of a group of editors congregated by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and at least that’s kind of picturesque. “I didn’t know you were engaged, Killian!”

Every one of his muscles tenses. Freezes, making Killian’s ability to stay upright all the more impressive, and it’s nothing except instinct when his gaze practically flies towards Emma. 

Who immediately tugs her lips behind her teeth, Will’s eyes widening to a size that would be comical in any other situation. 

Mary Margaret’s jaw works — trying to find an excuse, or an explanation, but there’s not any of those things and Killian finds himself nodding again. “Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s, uh—we are totally engaged.”

“Selling it,” Mary Margaret murmurs through clenched teeth, and he considers it an exceptionally large miracle that he doesn’t point that out. She’s not doing a good job of playing her role now, either. 

Aurora doesn’t notice. Another miracle. ‘Tis the season, or whatever. “So,” she presses, “have you set a date or—” Strictly speaking, biology was never one of Killian’s better school subjects, but he’s starting to wonder just how much stress the muscles in his neck can continue to cope with, and he’s all too aware of how much he’s beginning to resemble a bobblehead.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re, uh—” Licking his lips doesn’t help their overall state, floundering under the expectant stare of half a dozen coworkers who are now heavily invested in a wholly fake relationship, and Mary Margaret’s hand threatens to crack several of his knuckles. When she laces her fingers through his. 

“Thinking next winter,” she says, sounding more honest than anything else they’ve told these people. “City’s basically all decorated for us, already, you know?”

Aurora does know, it seems. 

Her nod isn’t as erratic as Killian’s, is far more enthusiastic — complete with wide eyes that practically announce her interest, and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage makes it difficult to hear the footsteps that are moving towards them. 

Will looks far too entertained. 

Emma’s lips are still missing in action. “Couldn’t help but overhear,” Will drawls, and the duel is starting to sound very appealing, “sounds like congratulations are in order.” He’s going to kill him. Killian’s going to let go of Mary Margaret’s impressively tight grip, and he’s going to use both of his hands to strangle his best friend. Or at least ensure that he’s deprived of enough oxygen that he doesn’t continue talking. 

He will enjoy it. Thoroughly. 

Lifting her eyebrows when neither Mary Margaret nor Killian respond to this supposed stranger’s proclamation, Emma’s exhale is inappropriately loud. Rife with guilt, and an emotion Killian can’t quite name because being jealous of her best friend’s engagement to someone else is as absurd as anything they’ve done tonight, but it’s also kind of nice and— “Aurora, this is Will,” Emma introduces, and he’s actually got the gall to smirk in Killian’s direction. Before thrusting his hand forward, smiling a bit more good-naturedly at Aurora, who only looks slightly confused. 

That’s fair. 

All of this is flying off the rails, and Killian briefly considers how much of a scene it would cause if he barreled into the kitchen demanding better alcohol choices. It’s probably not worth it. 

“Nice to meet you,” Aurora says, like an actual human. With normal, human thought processes and presumably fewer holiday-based lies to deal with. “We were just talking about Killian and Mary Margaret’s wedding.”

Blood floods his mouth, and Killian’s only slightly worried about running out of tongue to bite before the night is over. Mary Margaret’s fingers somehow tighten even more, threatening the blood flow to his entire right hand, and Emma is very interested in the state of her shoes. 

“That’s absolutely what it sounded like,” Will grins, “when’s the happy day?” Glaring without making it obvious is actually difficult. Killian widens his eyes, but that only makes the width of Will’s mouth increase — like some literary cat, and Emma’s eyes keep closing for prolonged periods of time. Like at least several seconds. 

“Next winter,” Killian bites out, “we’re getting married next winter.” “Decided on a location, yet? Gotta get that stuff in early from what I’ve heard.” “Have you just?”

Will nods, shoulders shifting ever so slightly. Like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. It’s not entirely working. 

Maybe they should apologize to Aurora. 

“Oh yeah, yeah,” Will says, “wedding industry’s cutthroat like that. Plan months in advance, and even then you might not get your first choice.” “That’s definitely true,” Aurora agrees, and maybe Killian will just topple over. Sit down on the floor and drink an entire box of wine, and he doesn’t think anyone else notices when Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “When Phillip and I got married, we went through a couple different venues before we found one that worked with our date.” “Sounds hectic,” Killian mumbles. Talking was a mistake. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, Emma’s gaze snapping up in unspoken warning, and he’s worried he’s using up his miracle supply. So as not to cry out at the overall force of Mary Margaret’s fingers. 

All five of which were apparently blessed with mutant-type strength. 

“Luckily we’ve got that covered,” she says, brightly and only a little disingenuous. 

Emma blinks. “Yeah?” “Yup. Did you know you can get a permit for a Central Park wedding for like fifteen bucks?” “Wow, that’s—that sounds really nice, actually.” “Depends on whether or not it snows, but—” Mary Margaret shrugs, and none of them are lying anymore. Well, at least not quite as blatantly as five seconds before. Will’s smile almost looks legitimate. 

“You’re thinking of an outdoor wedding?” Aurora asks. “In the winter?” Another shrug, hints of color rising on Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Early December, and we probably won’t be outside for very long. Mostly just the ceremony, and some of the pictures. There’s a certain kind of romanticism to the city in December, isn’t there?” Aurora doesn’t look overly convinced. Killian barely notices — is admittedly very preoccupied with the look on Emma’s face, and how it almost feels a little wistful and maybe just as romantic and not kissing her is somehow a victory and loss all at the same time. 

“You know,” Aurora says slowly, like she’s about to impart a crucial piece of information on them, “if we’re being honest, I am actually surprised this is happening.” One of Killian’s fingers flutters. Where it’s tangled with Mary Margaret’s, and Emma hasn’t blinked in years. Possibly longer. “Weddings? Or another wonderful event put on by Pendragon?”

“Bet they didn’t try and find this venue that far in advance,” Will mumbles. Emma closes her eyes. That’s like—half a blink, at least. 

Aurora shakes her head, still looking far more serious than the situation requires. “No, no, no, well...you and Emma are always together at work, aren’t you?”

Breathing is a challenge. 

Gritting his teeth less so, the overall tension in Killian’s jaw threatening to do permanent damage. Emma hasn’t opened her eyes yet. 

“We’re friends,” he reasons, and if he were actually engaged to Mary Margaret he’d be almost offended by this whole conversation. 

Lying likely robs him of any right to relationship-based offense, though. 

“Oh no, no, I know,” Aurora says, without sounding entirely honest, “and I’m sure it’ll be a gorgeous wedding. Just—if we had to guess, I think most people at Pendragon would have thought it’d be the two of you.” If nothing else, this night has provided a massive insight into all the facial expressions Mary Margaret is capable of making. At least half a dozen that Killian was previously unaware of, including the current one — a mix of disgust and appropriate scandal, and Killian resists the urge to point out that he and Emma probably couldn’t date, even if they wanted to, which they are, but that’s...that’s beside the point. 

Entirely. Like a different hemisphere from the point.

Aurora gives a tight-lipped smile.

“When did you and—” Will clicks his teeth, effectively redirecting the conversation. “—Phillip, was it?” Aurora hums. “Guessing you two didn’t get married in the winter, did you?” Whatever else she says gets lost in the buzz between Killian’s ears, the overall state of his heart continuing to threaten the structural integrity of his ribs, and Mary Margaret gives his hand several squeezes. To recapture his attention and whatever professionalism he’s barely clinging to, and she’d been right about romanticism. 

Of which he’s clearly bordering on hopeless at this point. 

Emma smiles. 

And Aurora excuses herself eventually — Phillip appearing like an unknowing brunette knight in conversational-armor, all four of them nearly exhaling in tandem. 

“So,” Will says, “scale of one to ten, how much did we suck at that?” “A forty-seven,” Mary Margaret replies, head lolling onto Killian’s shoulder while he finally lets out the scoff that’s been bubbling in the center of his throat.

“Next winter, huh? For real?” She makes a noise that’s presumably some sort of agreement, and Emma’s smile doesn’t waver. “Thinking about it. If Scarlet will double check with Belle about taking pictures in front of the library.” “Public property,” he replies, “don’t have to double check.” “But can we go inside at some point?” Killian asks. 

“Wimping out about temperature already?” “Expressing concerns, like Aurora who is—” “—A wedding genius, apparently,” Emma mutters, and Mary Margaret’s shoulders shake. She still hasn’t touched her wine. Eventually that will prove important. 

“Got a lot of opinions when it comes to other people’s plans, at least.”

“Eh,” Will argues, “did we give her much of a chance to delve into those opinions, or was Killian too busy making eyes at Emma?”

Continuing to open his mouth without actually saying any words is frustrating. For Killian. And the state of his heart, which cannot seem to find a rhythm anymore. Especially when Emma flushes, and threatens to stare a hole into the floor and of the two dresses she owns that are currently making the rounds at this party, the one she’s actually wearing is better. 

Probably because she’s wearing it. 

“I told you,” Mary Margaret grumbles, without any of her previous ability to chastise. She sounds almost amused. 

“Although,” Will adds, “Emma’s not doing much better, so—” Huffing out a breath only serves to flutter the few strands of hair that frame either side of Emma’s face, and that’s only vaguely messing with Killian’s perception of...reality, maybe. “Ok, you do not get to point out my own,” she leans closer, like that will help the volume of her next few words, “fake relationship shortcomings.” “Why not? It’s making all of this endlessly entertaining.” “I’m a better fake date than you,” Mary Margaret says. “You had to use your own wedding plans because you can’t take your ring off.” “That is nice!” People likely don’t turn the way Killian’s brain has already convinced him they do, but every one of Emma’s teeth is visible when she grits them like that and both of their potentially-obvious fake dates look properly ashamed. 

“Sorry,” Will grumbles, while Mary Margaret twists her heel and whispers, “no more wedding talk, I promise.” Emma laughs. That’s—surprising. And it’s not quite the laugh Killian’s also started claiming as his, but that feels almost possessive, and she’s definitely carrying less tension between her shoulders than he is. “I think that ship has sailed,” she says. “Should have thought about your outfit beforehand.” “Killian likes the dress,” Mary Margaret smiles. 

“Yeah, well Killian likes me, so…” Tugging Emma against his side, Will lets out another noise that will only garner them more attention, and people are starting to dance. The party fund could not afford a band. Or a DJ. Or anything more than what sounds like slightly muffled speakers and someone’s Spotify premium account. Killian hopes it’s premium, at least. 

Hearing ads in the middle of this instrumental Christmas music might be the last straw. For his sanity.  

“Well,” Will says, “if Mary Margaret’s going to start planning weddings, then I guess I do have to step my game up. C’mon, Em—let’s show ‘em what we’ve got.”

“And what do we have, exactly?” “Impeccable rhythm, and the lingering knowledge of a Groupon dance class.” “Do people still use Groupon?” Emma challenges, and Killian loves her an absolutely ridiculous amount. For several thousand things, but at this very moment, it’s mostly how her voice causes Will’s eyes to bug again and his tongue to poke between his lips and maybe the whole night isn’t a total disaster. He should tell her he loves her. 

Sooner rather than later. 

“My girlfriend,” Will replies, “who will totally be able to sneak Mary Margaret and David into the New York Public Library to avoid frostbite and ensure very pretty pictures, presumably on that fancy staircase they’ve got.” “Nothing sets the tone for a winter wedding like some casual breaking and entering,” Killian says, barely containing his grunt when Mary Margaret’s foot shifts. On top of his. 

Emma rolls her eyes. 

They’re just playing the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas now. 

“We’d appreciate whatever rules Belle could break for us,” Mary Margaret promises, “and will not mention that she’s the only person still using Groupon. Like, in the world.”

Will’s tongue is going to dry out. “Get on my fake date level, almost-Nolan.” “Shout that louder, please,” Emma groans. “And does the staircase not have a name? Fancy staircase cannot possibly be the acceptable vernacular.” “Probably not, because no one actual uses the word vernacular in actual conversation. Now you’re just trying to show off.” “Sound suspiciously like you’re impressed with my vast vocabulary, Scarlet.”

“Product of your profession.” “Grand, I think,” Killian says, fully prepared for Emma’s slightly parted lips. He will argue he’s prepared, at least. One of his knees does threaten to buckle though, and Will’s current eye-roll rate cannot possibly be healthy. 

“The profession?”

“The staircase.”

“Oh. That’s pretty lame, actually. It doesn’t have like a—staircase sponsor?” “Not that I’m aware of, but the entrance hall is called Astor Hall.” “Similar to the place of the same name?” Will quips. “Or—” “—The guy from the Titanic?” Mary Margaret finishes. “Why do you know about this?”

Killian lifts one shoulder. The one not currently providing rest for Mary Margaret’s head. “I know everything, a good fake-girlfriend would know that.” “And a legitimate girlfriend would dispute that,” Emma says, “plus, the Astors own or have endowed like half of New York. This is not impressive knowledge, and don’t get Mary Margaret talking about Titanic, she’ll start waxing poetic about Leonardo DiCaprio.” “I do have a longstanding crush on Leonardo DiCaprio,” Mary Margaret admits. “If I start quoting things about a real party and point out that Kate Winslet was willing to dance, will that get you guys to move?” Will demands. “Because we’re starting to draw attention and that’s probably not going to help our quest.” “It’s a quest now?” Killian asks. 

“Way more dramatic that way, so yeah.” “Please don’t start quoting Titanic at me,” Emma requests, pulling on the front of Will’s jacket and it’s a testament to their dedication to this ridiculous plan, or quest, that he wore a jacket. No matter how bad a plan it might be. 

Or quest. Whatever, honestly. 

“Alright,” she continues, “show off the lessons, or I’ll make fun of you for the foreseeable future.” Will winks. Not well, but possibly better than Killian is capable of, and he’s going to blame the wine. “Prepare to be absolutely wowed, m’dear.”

Rolling her eyes doesn’t do anything to shift the smile off Emma’s face, although she does look at Killian before she moves and the jealousy clouding his overall sense of being is as antiquated as the music and as absurd as anything else. 

Impressive, considering their overall barometer for absurd. 

“When do you think Aurora got married?” Killian asks, rolling his head towards a sympathetic-looking Mary Margaret. “Spring? June? That’s cliché, right?” “June,” she echoes. “Probably required her dozen bridesmaids to help her hand-make table favors, too. Just to really drive the point home. You want something else to drink?” “Yes, obviously.” Narrowing her eyes slightly when she nods, makes it more difficult to look at her — but that might also have something to do with the amount of alcohol Killian’s already consumed, and he really does appreciate how often Mary Margaret keeps making him eat. Even when it appears everything on this catering menu comes with bacon. “Don’t do that, ok?” he asks, at least two of their allotted four party-hours later. 

She lifts her eyebrows. “Keep texting my fiancé?” “Maybe you are the worse fake date.” “Well, you’re speaking in tongues now, so—” Shrugging, Mary Margaret’s shoulder doesn’t collide with Killian’s, but he’s also starting to feel a little buzzed. And hating bacon. And possibly happiness. On principle. 

Will and Emma keep dancing. Which also keeps them from having to interact with anyone else, but his buzzed-mind doesn’t care, and this whole thing was mostly his idea and that’s starting to really annoy him. 

That might be his base setting at this point.

“Bacon,” Killian clarifies, “don’t allow the national obsession with bacon to affect your food decisions when you—” Footsteps move by them, curious eyes and he’s not a frog, so his blood cannot possibly run cold. Plus, it’s honestly way too warm in this room. “We,” he amends, somehow rushing over two letters, and Mary Margaret noticeably sags against his side. “What was that about this being a dumb idea?” “Ah, getting fired at Christmas-time sucks. How will you buy us all presents, then?” Laughing helps loosen the knot of emotion that’s been growing increasingly tight in Killian’s chest, and the ends of Mary Margaret’s lips quirk up when he kisses the top of her hair. “Bacon is vastly overrated, though,” she adds, “people are obsessed with it.” “It’s weird, right?” “Definitely. Should I apologize for getting you engaged against your will?” Kissing her hair again is easier than responding, because responding might force Killian to contend with a lot of life-type plans he’s only half concocted, and he really should tell Emma he loves her first. Like, more than he realized. 

Until he had to pretend he didn’t. 

“Nah, but you can explain it to David because I don’t want my story to get interrupted when he inevitably starts laughing.” “You wanna dance?” Smirking at her does not have the same effect it has on Emma. And that’s definitely a good thing, but Killian’s drifting towards melancholy and the music isn’t instrumental anymore. Michael Bublé is a Christmas requirement, though. 

He flips his wrist. 

“Sweep you off your feet, Miss Blanchard.” She’s closing in on Will for number of pointed, if not passably amused, eye rolls. Still, Mary Margaret’s hand lands in his, and Emma’s eyes definitely drift towards them — which is as bad as it is good, and Michael Bublé’s version Santa Baby might actually be the worst thing that’s happened to any of them. All night. 

“Not exactly the pinnacle of music, is it?” Killian mumbles, and Mary Margaret hasn’t stepped on his foot. Or pointed out how close they linger to Will and Emma, both of whom look as unenthused by the music choices. 

And maybe it’s because he keeps staring, or possibly because Will is not the asshole he likes to pretend to be, but Killian is not entirely prepared for his friend to spin his fake date closer, or mutter something about cutting in that makes Mary Margaret laugh and Emma’s jaw drop and she steps on his foot. 

It’s the best thing that’s happened to him. All night. 

“We are not good at this,” Emma says, but she doesn’t sound all that upset about it and the buzz between his ears lessens. Turns into something warm and hopeful, and she’s close enough that he can smell her shampoo. 

“Something to be said for effort though, right?” “I’m not sure we’re making much of an effort.”

Nosing at her hair proves her point, but Killian’s—an idiot, and willing to blame romance, and the holiday season, and all the wine. So much. Even more bacon. God, he hates bacon. “Scarlet’s not subtle. And you look incredible.” “Do those sentiments go together?” “No,” Killian answers, “but true all the same.” “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Twirling her away, only to bring her back just as quickly, Killian doesn’t try very hard to avoid the smirk. So, he’s kind of a glutton too. For punishment, and poorly-timed emotions, and there’s a rather obvious glint in Emma’s eyes that leaves him breathless. Plus, she sort of slams back into his chest. “God,” she grumbles, “lacking some grace, huh?” “Eh, we’ll get there.” “Will we just?” He only realizes what he’s said when he notices the way her voice drops — rasped between lips that are redder than usual, and difficult to hear over goddamn Michael Bublé, and he’s totally staring at her lips. Obviously, he’s sure. “Yeah,” Killian nods. “Guaranteed.”

Part of him worries. Suddenly, Immediately. Overwhelming—ly. But Emma doesn’t move, and they’re more swaying than dancing now, and Mary Margaret’s footsteps are rushed. In a dramatic, everything is blowing up sort of way. 

That sucks, admittedly. 

“What are you—” Emma starts, but Mary Margaret just shakes her head. Yanking on Killian’s sleeve, she threatens to rip the fabric and he’s never heard her use any of those words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses. 

Killian tilts his head. “Be more specific.”

“Lance Sinqua is here. Is he supposed to be here? Why didn't either of you tell me he was going to be here?”

“He works in acquisitions, I think.” “I thought you knew everything,” Emma teases, and he has to bite the other side of his tongue. To stop from kissing her. 

Making out, more like. “I’ve had a lot of wine,” Killian reasons, “Should I be more concerned about why Sinqua being at his own holiday party is a problem?” Swatting at his side with both hands, Mary Margaret all but snarls. Emma looks appropriately surprised. “I know him,” Mary Margaret says, pausing between every word for emphasis. “And he has seen me.” What feels like the weight of several words and half a dozen ridiculous plans and/or quests fall into the pit of Killian’s stomach. Where they immediately crush a variety of internal organs. “Will’s distracting him now,” Mary Margaret explains, “but—he doesn’t know David personally, just that I’ve got a boyfriend—” “—Fiancé,” Emma corrects lightly, but the tone changes again and Killian’s never gone into shock before. He assumes it feels suspiciously like this. 

“I do not care; at all. Just—Killian, you’ve got to come. Now. Like right now.”

Nodding hurts his neck again, but Killian’s legs move on their own and his hand finds Mary Margaret’s and thinking about the look on Emma’s face isn’t healthy. Makes him want to stand on a table, or something equally absurd. Shout several things from several different rooftops, and he wonders if she’ll have to wear a red dress for the wedding. 

The real one, not whatever one he and Mary Margaret are going to lie about.

And to his credit, Will’s attempts to run distraction do look admirable. Moving hands and a nearly legitimate smile, while Lance nods in interest and continued conversation, and Killian squeezes Mary Margaret’s hand. In what he hopes is solidarity. 

“Hey,” Will exhales, as soon as he sees them, “here he is.” Killian’s cheeks ache. “Present and accounted for. You must be Lance, Mary Margaret said you’re old friends.” “Ah, I don’t know about old,” Lance objects, “but certainly the rest of it. I didn’t know she’d be here, would have asked you guys for drinks before or something.”

There’s really no word for the sound Mary Margaret makes at that. Part squeak, and what sounds like an admission, but that says a lot more about Killian’s growing guilt and residual jealousy and—

“How long have you two been engaged?” 

Racking his brain, Killian’s had too much to drink for this. He’s dimly aware of Mary Margaret swaying closer to him, Will’s grimace all but broadcasting how unprepared they are for that particular question, but it also seems like he’s trying to tell Killian something. He does not understand. Fuck boxed wine, quite frankly. 

He opts for honesty. 

Sort of.

It worked for Mary Margaret, after all. 

Sort of. 

“We’ve, uh—” Killian starts, “—been engaged only a couple of weeks, but...we’ve been dating since March.”

Will’s shoulders droop. His eyes turn imploring, but he can’t actually say anything and Lance is, so it absolutely does not matter. “March?” he echoes. “Your friend said it was kind of a whirlwind romance. Got together in the summer.” His mouth does more than open. His jaw drops, nearly to his ankles and shoes that he actually got polished because this party isn’t super important, but Killian wanted to look nice on his fake date and Mary Margaret’s hand is the only reason he doesn’t fall over. 

“Ah,” Killian breathes, “right. That’s—yeah, that’s right.” Lance doesn’t look convinced, either. He should go talk to Aurora. Who keeps glancing at Emma, like she’s got like SONAR. Joke doesn’t even make sense. In Killian’s head. 

“We’ve been celebrating a bunch of different anniversaries,” Mary Margaret cuts in, speaking so quickly it’s as if that lie jumps out of her mouth, does cartwheels and then gets a four from the Russian judge for lack of proper execution. “Y'know...romance, and everything. He’s uh—Killian must be thinking of when we met.” Lance quirks an eyebrow. He might hate Lance. He definitely hates Lance. “You’ve only known each other since March.” “Oh my God,” Will mumbles, scratching behind his ear. And really, that’s not what does it. But it’s certainly a tipping point, or a metaphorical straw, and Killian nods once before he lifts Mary Margaret’s hand to his mouth, mumbles thanks against her knuckles and marches directly towards his actual girlfriend. 

Who is standing directly under the mistletoe. 

It’d be more impressive if she wasn’t, honestly. 

And the music doesn’t stop — although Killian can’t really hear it either, an arm finding Emma’s waist, and her hands landing flat against his chest and someone cheers. Will. It’s definitely Will. Heads turn towards them, surprise coloring more than a few of their co-workers faces, while others look...less so. 

Killian doesn’t bother dwelling on that. He’s got more important things to do. 

“I’m pretty ridiculously in love with you,” he says, Emma’s eyes getting brighter and her lips as distracting as ever. Several of the less-than-surprised faces aww. Audibly. Which doesn’t quite make sense, but he’s still not dwelling and—“Not admitting to dating you is driving me nuts.” “When is your lease up?” “What?” “Were those words confusing in that order?” Emma asks, infusing the question with false confidence that he can hear perfectly and she should have confidence in spades. At least when it comes to this. 

Maybe if they get to keep their jobs. 

“A little,” Killian concedes. “Are you—do you want me to move in with you?” “A ridiculous amount.”

“That’s admittedly not the best adjective I could have used.” “Eh, I won’t get particular with syntax.” “Stop showing off,” Will yells, “and kiss other directly on the mouth!”

There’s a general hum of agreement — even while Lance continues to look a little confused, and Aurora looks a little offended, both of which makes sense because they were fairly awful liars, and someone’s given Arthur a microphone. So the owner of Pendragon Publishing can tell them, “Literally everyone knew, you both suck at not making out in the break room.”

Heat wafts off Emma, climbs up Killian’s neck and takes root in both of his cheeks and Arthur is not done. 

“It’s not encouraged. Intra-office relationships, usually way more trouble than they’re worth, but, well—all you really need to do is sign some paperwork with HR and maybe find some other corners that are less obvious.” Nodding slowly only makes it more obvious the kind of strain all of Killian’s muscles are under, but he can’t come up with a feasible response to that and Emma’s fingers curl. Into his shirt, and he imagines that makes it easier — when she yanks him forward, lips slanting over his and she doesn’t have to push up the way she normally does. Still, Killian’s fairly certain he hears one of her heels pop out of her shoes, and if this is how it feels when a heart beats its way out of a person’s chest, it’s actually fairly comfortable. 

“I love you too,” Emma mumbles, against his mouth. So, the only reasonable response is to kiss her again. Several times over. 

And they do fill out paperwork, eventually — the story of the fake date fiasco, as David comes to call it, perfect fodder for Emma’s maid of honor speech, and proof positive of the inherent romanticism of the city at Christmas. 

[jubans]

title: honeysuckle pairing: settsu banri/fem!reader rating: m (mature) premise: contrary to popular belief, there exist certain things that not even banri “easy mode” settsu is particularly good at, and that lacking skill just happens to coincide with yours.

“Settsu-kun…”

Your voice is hoarse with desire when Banri trails a path of fire from the jut your collarbone to the corner of your mouth—a wicked smile ghosting across your feverish skin. When he raises his face to look at you, his sandy hair falls across his face in loose tufts, framing blue eyes that glint with hunger in the receding sunlight. He hovers over your pitiful form, helplessly pliant from where he has you pinned under his weight. Banri always wondered if you would kick his ass if he suggested kissing you on top of your desk in the council room, but the heady look in your eyes subverted his expectations entirely.

“Please,” you breathe, lips parted with need as you tug on the lapels of his blazer.

He spares you a soft laugh, dipping his head to nuzzle the crook of your neck—the sweet scent of honeysuckle filling his nose.

“Please what, prez?”

The mirth melts right off his face when he feels you squirming beneath him, raising one of your thighs to massage the growing heat in his trousers. Banri stiffens, the practiced charisma he’s gotten so used to taunting you with falling apart all in a single moment. When you pull him down to slant his mouth on top of yours, he’s too stunned to reciprocate but you’re too consumed by your own lust to notice.

“Please, I...I need you.”

Breaking his predicament down to the roots, Banri supposes that this all started over a harmless discussion shared between his classmates.

He usually opted to just ignore people whenever they tried to strike up a conversation with him, and when the other party was a little more persistent, he’d scare them off with a single glare. Though he may not have Hyodo’s naturally terrifying disposition, Banri likes to think that he’s intimidating in his own right. He should have just done the usual and told those losers off with an offhand comment before playing hooky somewhere else. Yet, he ended up breaking character, falling prey to a teenage boy’s natural curiosities in the end.

“Kanae-chan’s adorable when I try to kiss her,” Classmate 1 (Banri doesn’t really bother remembering their names) bragged with stars in his eyes. “She turns all red and says she doesn’t want me to kiss her until she’s the one who initiates instead.”

Classmate 2 pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose with a scoff. (This guy pissed Banri off the most. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he reminded him of someone—someone annoying.) “You like girls who play hard-to-get? That’s kind of childish. I want someone who knows exactly what they want.”

“You talk like you’ve already kissed someone,” snickered Classmate 3, who slings an arm across Banri’s shoulders despite the latter being a good three inches taller. “What about you, Settsu? With all those girls fawning over you, I doubt you don’t have any experience with any of them.”

Banri frowned, feeling his face flush. “The hell does that mean?”

“Aw, don’t be like that, man! Care to share your secrets with commoners like us? How do you get them wrapped around your finger like that?”

The more Classmate 3 implied that he was Hana High’s local Cassanova, the more Banri had to shove down the embarrassment that was beginning to bubble in his chest. What even gave these guys the idea that he was good at...at kissing? Sure, he was inherently talented in anything that didn’t involve cozying up to another human being, but that didn’t automatically make him a—

“Can you stop talking about girls like inanimate objects?”

Upon hearing your voice, Banri rolled his eyes more out of reflex than anything else. He could count on the student council president to badger him about every aspect of his high school life at the most inconvenient of times. You stood a few feet away from the corner of the classroom they’d claimed for themselves, hands braced on your hips as your brows knit with thinly veiled disgust.

“Prez, it’s not like that,” groaned Classmate 1. “I swear, you’re too uptight; always hounding people at the vaguest sign of disrespect—”

“So you do admit to disrespecting women.” You narrowed your eyes.

Classmate 3 sighed, peeling away from the group as he scratched his head irritably. “No wonder everyone else thinks you’re annoying. C’mon, guys. She isn’t worth arguing with.”

As your classmates stalked back to their own seats, Banri’s shoulders eased with finally being spared from their frivolous questions. He nearly made a beeline for the door so he could take a nap at the rooftop, but he caught the frown tugging on your lips from the corner of his eye, momentarily stunting his plans.

Not having any real sympathy for you, Banri merely sighed. “If you don’t want to be called annoying then stop being annoying.”

He left the classroom before you could offer up any sort of response, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary. A bunch of girls from other classes greeted him on his way to the stairwell, earning themselves an irritated look from him that they responded to by giggling into their hands. What the hell was up with these people? Do they like asshole delinquents by default?

When he finally made it to the solitude of Hana High’s rooftop, he climbed the ladder placed right next to the door. Banri hoisted himself up with ease, sighing with satisfaction as he laid beneath a rake of warm sunlight. It was a bit cloudy today, plunging his surroundings in a temperature comfortable enough to lull him to sleep. But just when he was about to toe the boundary between slumber and consciousness, the sound of the door below creaking on its hinges reeled him back into awareness.

Banri strained his ears, hearing only one set of footsteps that paced around for a few moments before the door swung shut once again. He relaxed, convinced that whoever was about to interrupt his siesta had already gone—only to be caught off guard when someone emerged from the ladder.

“What the…” He scrambled to sit upright, squinting at the intruder. “What’re you doing here, prez?”

You swallowed thickly, averting your eyes from his scrutinizing gaze before hesitantly walking over to take a seat beside him. Banri observed you with rapt attention, watching as you pulled your knees to your chest—resting your chin on the ridge in between.

“You’ve never kissed a girl in your life, have you?”

He practically choked on the next breath he drew, causing you to whip your head to stare at him with concern lining your eyes. Banri muttered some half-hearted apology as he collected himself, wondering if he’d even heard you right. But the earnest look on your face told him that he really didn’t just hallucinate that. How the hell did you single him out anyway?

“What’s it to you?” he parried defensively, hyper aware of what little distance sat between the both of you.

You weren’t facing him yet Banri could make out the beginnings of a smile on your side profile. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to strike a deal.”

“W-What could you possibly want?”

Out of all the things he’d expected for the student council president to do, the last thing on his list would be this: you turning to him with an unreadable look, shifting from where you sat as you gently trailed your fingers on the side of his face. Your skin was burning despite the tenacity of your actions, but Banri couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your eyes fluttered underneath thick lashes, lips lightly swelled into a pout.

“Settsu-kun...do you want to practice kissing with me?”

As a high schooler, Banri had a lot of firsts that he was yet to conquer. It was normal, and it wasn’t like he was in a rush to tick all the checkboxes for the sake of bragging rights. But his first kiss and the first girl whose house he would be intruding on came barreling into his life far sooner than he’d anticipated.

Your mattress was much softer than the one he had in the Mankai dorms, accommodating his body almost snugly. The soft glow of the twilight outside snuck into the room through the cracks in the curtains, but the ambience was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Is...is this okay?”

Banri couldn’t help the smirk that hooked across his lips, relishing in the embarrassment that painted itself on your face. Although he was just as flustered with the knowledge that a girl was straddling him on her bed, he was better at hiding his discomposure than most.

“I think so,” he offered, testing the waters by placing both of his hands on your hips. “Are you okay?”

“W-Why wouldn’t I be?” you muttered, unsure of where you should place your hands so you flop them over your chest instead.

He laughed softly, remembering all the bad porn movies he may or may not have come across at some points in his life (except he’ll cap this escapade at the kissing). This was the part where he should encourage you a little, right? With some newfound eagerness, he hiked his hands up your back, tugging you down without warning. You yelped in surprise, hands floundering around until they’re splayed on either side of his face. Banri’s mouth twitched into a sordid smile when he felt each bated breath you made fan across his skin.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you make a face like that.”

You sputtered, the redness on your cheeks worsening. “Stop saying embarrassing things, Settsu-kun!”

“You’re pretty cute, aren’t you?” Banri chuckled, trailing his hand on the back of your head as he twined your hair in his fingers. “We’ve come this far and you’re still embarrassed?”

Just before you could make the motions to hop off of him altogether, Banri’s grip on your head turned rigid, forcing you to meet his smoldering gaze. You let out a surprised squeak—a sound he found adorable, but was too occupied to comment on.

“Do you really want this?”

His voice was decibels softer than usual, an earnest look creasing on his brow. Though he came off strongly at times, Banri had seen Masumi fawn over the director enough to get a proper grasp on the concept of consent. Even if you were a perpetual thorn on his side, he’d never want to make you do anything your mind wasn’t a hundred percent sure of. The fact that you were the one to propose this whole arrangement didn’t change that.

Hesitation crossed your meek features, eyes inching away from his despite his firm hold on you. Banri breathed out a long breath, surrendering his tight grip as a last-minute apology rested on his tongue.

“I do.”

Before he could even form a proper response, you’d already screwed your eyes shut, dipping your face down to mold your lips on top of his.

Banri’s brain blanked out for a few moments, nothing but static feedback ringing in his ears. But he was quick to kickstart his senses back to life. One second, the featherlight weight of your kiss incapacitated him from coherence, and in the next, he suddenly knew how to put his hands to good use. He used his right to cradle your cheek, and his left to tug your head impossibly close. At this point Banri was probably grappling at the vague stories about a romance game Itaru once told him of in passing. Wait, why the hell was he thinking of Itaru when he was literally kissing—

When you pulled away, he hadn’t noticed the way your fingers curled around the front of his shirt, but he did notice the forlorn look that befell your face.

The laugh that escaped you was hollow. “I’m that bad, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” Banri’s voice was far more guttural than he’d intended it to sound. “I don’t think I’m any good at this shit either, if that makes you feel better.”

You began to peel yourself away, and this time Banri opted not to stop you when you sat on the edge of your bed. He barely registered the sigh that you let out over the sound of his chest pounding into his ears. Despite you claiming it was a bad kiss, the prickling sensation that bristled on his lips begged to differ.

He...kind of liked it.

“Settsu-kun, it’s getting kind of late,” you pointed out, and Banri didn’t miss the way your voice trembled. “You should probably head—”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Slowly, you turned your head to face him, eyes blown with surprise. “What?”

Banri shifted on your bed, crawling closer to you as he imitated the same thing he did in the heat of the moment, cradling your face once again with a gentle hand. His eyes shot back to the curve of your lips, much pinker after that little kiss.

Boldly, he repeated, “Can I kiss you again?”

He liked to think that it was relief that glazed over your eyes in the few seconds that passed before you careened into his touch, pressing your mouth back to his. Banri had a bit more initiative the second time around, languidly moving his lips against yours in a rhythm that he hoped could translate into his actions. But the two of you were still woefully out of sync—teeth clacking awkwardly, not knowing where to place your hands; the list went on.

But apart from the half-second breaks as the two of you drew shaky breaths, neither of you pulled away from the other.

Sometime in between those hasty kisses, he’d finally timed himself with your own pace. When he snaked a strong arm around your waist, it seemed to catch you off guard and Banri took advantage of the gasp you breathed against his mouth by kissing you even deeper. The press of your tongue against his coaxed a soft mewl rumbling in your chest—one that sent dangerous shivers skidding down the length of his spine.  

Banri wasn’t sure how long he’d been making out with you on your bed, but by the time he made himself aware of his surroundings, the room had already darkened several shades and you somehow ended up lying back on the mattress with both legs dangling over the edge. This time he was the one peering at you from above, palms planted on either side of your head as he completely took in your disheveled appearance.

The collar of your uniform was rumpled, lips swollen and parted as you heaved one deep breath after another. He could tell your eyes were unfocused—or rather, so hyper-fixated on one thing that you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention to anything else.

He could feel his own lips twitch with anticipation.

But despite the heat that coiled in his gut, fueled by the desire to just lose himself to the feel of your inexperienced yet mind-shattering kisses, he shakily got back on his feet.

Banri wanted nothing but to wipe off the disappointment that eclipsed your vehemence in the next second, but he told himself that if he indulged you even more, he might just lose control. Turning away, the actor patted down his clothes, carding his fingers through his sweat-stricken hair as he forcibly leashed his heart back into repose. Calm down, you little—

“Will you ever come over again?”

The question came with such an innocent tone that Banri suddenly felt all kinds of obscene. He hesitated, casting you a sidelong glance. You were seated upright now, but your hair was still mussed from all the tugging and pulling he’d done. The way your face was still flushed from your little session didn’t help in anchoring his sanity, either.

Somehow, he managed to mask all the emotions that clashed behind his eyes with an easygoing smile.

Banri leaned back down, breathing in the sweet and heady scent of your shampoo—his next words ringing like a promise.

“I will.”

He wasn’t sure what made him think that things would be any different when you both saw each other again at school the next morning. Omi definitely noticed the spike in Banri’s disposition when he slid a plate of fresh toast and eggs over to him on the dining table—asking if everything was alright at school. Taichi wondered the same thing, while Juza opted not to comment on it. Although Banri could feel the bizarre look his rival cast his way, he strangely decided not to antagonize him for it. Even Sakyo was freaked out when he greeted the older man with a chipper, “Mornin’, Sakyo-san.”

But Banri’s pleasant mood ultimately depleted when he ran into you in the hallway.

“Hey, prez,” he spoke with a flirtatious drawl that he hadn’t intended to make. “How are you on this fine morning?”

Instead of the blushing mess he’d reduced you into the previous day, you assumed the mask of pensiveness you’d worn on literally every day since you assumed your position.

“Settsu-kun, how many times do I have to tell you to abide by the school’s dress code? The rules are there for a reason, you know.”

Even your voice was stone cold. Banri frowned, pouting a little as he slung his bag over his shoulder. If you were going to revert back to your usual dynamic, so be it.

“Never gave a damn about ‘em,” he muttered, brushing past you without another thought.

You practically ignored each other for the rest of the week.

Banri knew that segregating work from play was an essential ability that an adult needed to have up his sleeve. But, given that he was months away from turning legal, he let himself wallow in his own pettiness for the meantime.

He was overreacting. He knew he was, but who could tell? It wasn’t like he wasn’t already skipping classes in the past. The only difference was this time, he was actively avoiding someone (read: you). But instead of hanging around on the rooftop, where he knew you could find him, Banri just decided not to go to school altogether.

Being the voice of reason among the Hana High boys, Sakuya reprimanded him for it every single time, but Banri waved away his concern—insisting he’d still be at the top of his class despite being a truant. But of course, slipping away from Sakuya’s wellspring of concern wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

“Banri-kun.”

He was just about to shut the front door when Izumi’s I-know-you-did-something-so-you-better-fess-up voice greeted him. Banri felt a chill run across his skin, the director harboring an uncharacteristically pissed off look on her face.

“Hey, director-chan,” he managed, trying his best to skirt away from you. “Um, I gotta—uh, take a quick dump. Is someone using the—”

“What is this I hear about you playing hooky?” She narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought we agreed that you’d cut that out already.”

That damn Sakuya.

Banri fell silent for a couple of moments, standing his ground against the almost-glare that Izumi was sending his way. But after a few moments, he felt her stringent gaze ease up.

“Is something the matter?”

He sighed. How the hell was he supposed to lie through his teeth when Izumi used her mother hen voice?

“It’s nothing,” he insisted. “I just...I don’t—ugh. Someone’s been avoiding me and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Izumi blinked, not expecting for him to cave so easily. Nonetheless, she offered up a reassuring smile, patting the younger boy’s shoulder soothingly. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on but I’m pretty sure you won’t solve any of your problems by avoiding them, too. Have you tried talking to them?”

“Talking…?”

“Yes, talking. You know, the thing you do when you want a certain point to come across to another person?”

That incited a soft laugh from him, shaking his head. “Who knew you could be a funny guy, director-chan? The Summer Troupe might just recruit you.”

Mustering up a laugh of her own, Izumi rolled her eyes. “I’ve dealt with men like you in the past, you know. Based on experience, you wouldn’t have half the problems you have now if you just talked it out with the person concerned.”

“You’re not talking about the old man, are you?” Banri teased with one eyebrow raised.

Her reaction had no delay. “S-Sakyo-san has nothing to do with this!”

As Izumi flung the front door open in her haste, closing it behind her without a glance his way, Banri shook his head with amusement. He didn’t even drop any names. Nonetheless, the director’s piece of advice echoed in the back of his head even when he was already lying in the comfort of his own room.

Blue eyes peeked from behind the curtains draped across his window as he watched the sun slowly dip into the horizon. Banri briefly wondered if you were witnessing the same thing.

“Talking, huh…”

“Settsu! There you are, you little fiend.”

His first day back (again), and the first person that met him at the gates was the guidance counselor, Azumi. Banri waved a quick farewell to Sakuya and Masumi before begrudgingly dragging himself to his teacher’s side.

“Did you miss me, sensei?” he joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “I bet it’s gotten quiet since I—”

“You’re on marshal duty with the student council. They want a tough guy like you to round all the troublemakers up.” Azumi didn’t even bother scolding him anymore, merely handing him a red bandana with the word MARSHAL hastily scribbled with a black marker. “You can meet (Surname) at the council room so she can give you the breakdown of duties. Go on, now. Everyone’s doing their share for the school festival.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, Banri just noticed all the students milling around the courtyard. Some were carrying props to a makeshift stage in the quadrangle, and others strung decorations on the entrances to the school buildings. He’d been so caught up in his own sulking that he forgot about the school festival.

“Sure thing,” he responded with some semblance of enthusiasm as he pocketed the bandana.

Banri made the trip to the council room at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t at all in a rush, given that, despite the time he’d spent away, he still had no idea what to say once he saw you again. A bitter part of himself insisted that he didn’t have to go through all the trouble, since he didn’t seem to mean anything to you in the first place.

When he twisted the knob, muttering a quick greeting to whoever was present inside, he was surprised to see that you were the only one occupying the council room right this second.

You were nose deep into some paperwork when you spoke to him without looking up. “Oh, Kasumi, when you get back to the stage—”

“I’m afraid I go by Settsu, prez.”

The startled look that painted itself on your face was so comical, Banri had to resist the urge to pull out his phone to snap a picture. For a few moments, the room was plunged into thick silence as you gawked at him like he’d just grown two heads. Had you stared any longer, Banri would have used it as an opportunity to slip in some sly remark, but instead, you shot up from your seat—pacing the short distance that separated you before engulfing him in the warmth of your arms.

Banri let out a startled noise, internally panicking. What the fuck? Why the hell were you hugging him? But he couldn’t resist the urge to reciprocate your affections, shakily returning your embrace in spite of his embarrassment.

“Weren’t you avoiding me?” he muttered.

You flinched away from him, and he noticed the moisture that gathered on the lines of your lashes. A brief shot of guilt lanced through his chest. Did...did he do that?

“You’re the one who suddenly just disappeared after... that,” you sniffled, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

Banri breathed in sharply, reaching one hand up to brush your face with delicate fingers. “You were so cold to me the day after. Here I thought I was just a one-time thing for you.”

“Shut up. I just...didn’t know how to react.” You untangled your arms from his lean frame, curling your fists over his chest instead. “I even asked if you were coming over again, didn’t I?”

He found himself smiling fondly at the petulant look you sent his way. No one was as adorable when you made that face. With a familiar flare of courage surging in his veins, he leaned down to ghost his breath against your jaw—delighting at the shiver that racked your body.

“Do you want me to make it up to you?”

Your breath hitched somewhere in your chest, but the slightest tug you made on his clothes was all the confirmation he needed. Without warning, Banri switched your positions—nearly slamming you against the door to the council room as he braced his palms against the vertical surface. You winced at his urgency, seeming like you were about to tell him off, but he claimed your lips in his before you could utter out a single word.

The helpless whimper that you muffled against his mouth shot straight to his core, making him groan in approval when you tangled your fingers in his silky hair. Banri unknowingly pressed his knee in between your legs, forcing them apart as he continued licking into your mouth. The breathless calls for his name made this little escapade all the more dizzying; making him yearn for more.

Banri didn’t even count how many kisses it took to satisfy you—the only things filling his frazzled brain being the addicting plumpness of your lips and the sweet scent of your hair. (He wasn’t kidding about the last part. He’d have to ask you about your shampoo some other time.) And he would have continued ravishing you against the council room’s door had it not been for the three subtle knocks that reverberated from the other side.

“(Surname)-senpai, the vice prez is asking for the complete class lists for the second year students,” a gentle, feminine voice called out.

Your eyes widened in a panic, and Banri could only let out some muted chuckles as he lazily latched his lips on the column of your throat—nipping at your skin with a smirk.

“I-I left the folder with Secretary Ame. Could you look for him for me, Kasumi—hah!”

Oops. He didn’t mean to bite down that hard.

“Senpai, are you okay?”

“Y-Yes! Please don’t come in I’m—um, changing!” Banri had to admit that you sounded quite convincing there. “I’ll join you guys in the courtyard a little later.”

“Hm? Alright, if you say so.”

As he practically felt the relief wash over you, Banri breathed an airy laugh against your skin before wrapping his arms around your waist—tugging you closer. “Nice save, prez. You were almost subjected to the scandal of a lifetime: Hana High’s goody-two-shoes student council president caught in the act with the local delinquent. Now that’s a headliner.”

Chuckling at his whimsical words, you leaned up on the tips of your toes to plant a soft, fleeting kiss on his lips. Banri immediately felt his face flare up with heat.

“If it’s you I wouldn’t mind.”

Banri knew that people say things they don’t mean all the time. Even he did that to others. But even when the two of you had become engrossed with keeping everything in line for the school festival, those last few words you shared with him in the council room haunted him for the rest of the day.

Omitting the part that he was doing it with you, the person who was only second to Azumi-sensei in setting him straight, this whole thing was a pretty sweet deal. He’d come over to your place every now and again to “practice” kissing, and that was one more addition to Banri “Easy Mode” Settsu’s ridiculous repertoire.

Although, he’d failed to factor in one thing before agreeing to your proposal.

You almost always had your house to yourself—the reason behind it being your parents often working late into the night. Banri didn’t mind, since the last thing he wanted was to be chased out of the house by an angry father wielding a kitchen knife. But there were times, much like this one, where he wished someone would barge into the door to personally kick him out. To yell some sense into his thick skull, because when you fell asleep on his shoulder while both of you lounged in the living room, he couldn’t help but stare.

He’d gotten so accustomed both the tough demeanor you showed him in public and the needy look in your eyes in private, that Banri didn’t think that he would still be surprised by new sides of you he was yet to discover. That realization only set once he observed how vulnerable you looked—trusting him enough to fall asleep in his company. Not that you had a reason not to. He was just a little... touched was all.

It’s been a good few weeks since you’d agreed to be ‘practice partners’, and Banri was beginning to think of the crunching days left before graduation. He used to be so ready to just get high school over with since it was boringly easy. But that was before he’d joined Mankai Company; before he let the student council president ruffle his feathers like this.

And with each shallow breath you drew, Banri counted all the times he began to think he was falling in love with you.

It was natural, wasn’t it? To catch feelings for someone he’d invited so close into his personal space? Sure, the two of you kind of did everything backwards, but you at least liked him enough to keep him around. It wasn’t too outlandish to maybe ask you to take...whatever your current relationship was to the next level, right?

Banri’s thoughts were thwarted when you stirred from your nap, gazing around the room with drowsy eyes as you asked him what time it was. He told you it was nearly time for him to leave, since the guys from the dorm might start looking for him, but with a hesitant whine, you snaked your arms around his torso.

“Can you stay a little longer?” you asked, and Banri had to physically look away from your pleading eyes. Goddamn it. You were pretty even after you’d just woken up.

Relenting, he let out a long sigh, praying Sakyo wouldn’t gut him for going home so late again. Banri tilted his face to plant a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the familiar scent of sweet flowers in your hair.

“Just five more minutes, okay?”

“Please, I...I need you.”

With his mind suddenly zipping back into the present, Banri feels the way his heart thunders in his rib cage. He must have made a face because the arousal in your eyes tethers back into reason, a question hovering above them.

“I…” Banri runs out of words before he can even fathom any. Because how the hell can he just say, I need you, too but I’m bound by my own moral principles not to do this until I’ve told you I’m in love with you without scaring you off?

He wants to pretend that he only sees you as a practice partner and nothing else. That he definitely doesn’t look at you with a yearning that he shouldn’t even harbor.

But even if he’s an actor, there are just some things he can’t fake.

Then again...you’re (Surname) (Name). The adorable girl he’s been fooling around with for the past few months. The student council president who climbed up his little private space on the rooftop with the strangest proposal that fell on his ears.

(The same person who weaseled her way into his heart.)

He’s almost too sure he knows you well enough to expect you not to run away from him.

“(Name)...” The syllables tumble from his mouth so naturally, he feels like he never called you anything else before. You blink up at him, the blueprint of pure innocence that you are. He falters for a moment, questioning his own gamble, but when you say his name once more, Banri recovers his resolve.

“There’s something that you need to know.”

“Banri-kun, we’ll be late for the ceremony!” He can hear Izumi calling out to him from the gates, the urgency in her tone telling Banri to hurry it up. But he’s a little preoccupied in the garden at the moment.

“One sec, director-chan!” he yelled over his shoulder before turning back to Tsumugi. “These are good enough, right?”

His fellow troupe leader nods at him, sporting the kindest of smiles. “Yup. Honeysuckle flowers complement cosmos really well. I didn’t know you had an eye for flower arrangement, Banri-kun.”

“Not really,” he laughs, bringing the hastily put-together bouquet to his nose. Banri inhales the sweet scent he’s caught on your hair several times in the past. It took a little convincing, but you eventually told him what shampoo you used.

“Honeysuckle,” you said, going red in the face. “What are you even going to do with that information?”

Banri scrambles back onto his feet, adjusting the ribbon pinned to his blazer while he cradles the flowers in his arms. He does a few weird poses in front of Tsumugi before asking, “How do I look?”

“Strange. Why are you wearing the proper uniform, necktie and all?”

He nearly yelps in surprise when you emerge into the garden, arms crossed over your chest where you stand right next to Sakuya. Banri sputters a little, making a pathetic attempt at hiding the bouquet from your view as he asks Sakuya what the hell you were doing here.

“No one expected the prez to come over, Banri-kun,” Sakuya swears, stifling a few laughs. “She came on her own accord.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at Banri, peering behind his back. “Is that for me, Settsu-kun?”

The way you still address him makes his shoulders sag, and Banri grumbles as he hands you the flowers. “Is it so difficult to call your boyfriend by his first name?”

As expected, your face immediately colors itself scarlet at the mention of him being your boyfriend. He doesn’t blame you. He has to tell that to himself over and over so he wouldn’t think he was still dreaming, too.

“F-Fine,” you huff, caressing the vibrant blooms with a gentle finger. “This is really thoughtful of you, Banri-kun. I love them.”

“Anyone else you love?”

You pout, and both Sakuya and Tsumugi let out their own bouts of laughter. Before Banri can gloat about your flustered reaction, your little moment is interrupted by the sound of someone angrily pounding on a car horn. From where he stands, Banri can see Sakyo fuming in the driver’s seat of his car as Izumi placates him outside. Sighing, Banri spares Tsumugi a minute nod before seizing your free hand. You squeak in surprise, but you don’t jerk your hand away either.

“I’m waiting for an answer, prez,” he teases.

Rolling your eyes, you crane your neck up to place a swift kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, Banri-kun. Happy?”

Elated, he thinks to himself, but instead presses his lips to your forehead.

“I love you, too.”

[ghoulishhusband]

I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u

Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?

Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter

CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!

read the under cut owo

Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????

So

I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol

First up is my asshole,

Giodine

they/them (preferred)

god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)

ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.

(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)

If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.

Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.

Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]

I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.

See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.

Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be. 

Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.

(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.

Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!

This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.

I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉

But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...

Sam (Samuel)

He/him

ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.

Sam, Sam, Samuel.

If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell

Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.

If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.

The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.

Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.

Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.

And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!

Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine. 

Purgatory

She/her

ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it.  Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side. 

(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)

Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now. 

And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.

Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right? 

~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~ 

My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo

~Idea section over uwu~

Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this: 

She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep. 

The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control. 

Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding. 

I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain. 

Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.

And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!

I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband​ or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]

ok!! ty!! ily!!

[sebastianshaw]

Shaw & Skadi for the kid meme!

Name: Sigvid Skadisson Shaw. I know it should be Shawson BUT FUCK THE RULES. “Sig” is a pretty standard prefix for a lot of Norse names from the word “sigr” meaning “victory” and “vid” from the Old Germanic “widu” for forest. Gender: Masc and male-presenting but beyond that I’m not sure? Trans man? AMAB non-binary? Look, he uses he/him (maybe they too) and people THINK ‘man’ when they look at him, that’s all I know General Appearance: Tall and beefy, he couldn’t NOT be. Medium pale skin that gets even paler in winter but tans easily in summer. Black hair, or so dark brown it might as well be black, and very dark eyes. His hair, unlike both parents and most of his Asgardian brethren, is actually kept short, and while he has a beard, it’s not the big one. The reason for this is functional; short hair is better if you’re spending a lot of time in the wild. Stuff gets stuck in long hair, it can get tangled in branches at the worst times, it’s hot in the summer, and it can literally freeze in the winter if it gets wet. His attire is very much out of a Viking fantasy, but less on the “heavy armor” end of things and more on the “wearing lots of furs and skins” side. He doesn’t look like someone you want to fuck with, but he also doesn’t look like he’s going to war. He carefully avoids any kind of dangling amulets, charms, or other jewelry that could get caught on anything, but he’s got a sort of leather toolbelt containing various survival tools made from wood, bone, etc. Personality: Sigvid, as you might guess from his attire and the reasons for it, is an outdoorsman. Not as a hobby, not as a lifestyle, but an EXISTENCE. He thrives in the natural world as Sebastian does in the business world, finding ways to survive in even the most adverse of situation. Whatever Mother Nature is doing around him, he can not only make it through it, he can work it to his advantage. His closeness to the natural world, his close observation of it, means that he sees both the facts and errors in his father’s mentality. He sees that the strongest predators will pick off the weakest prey, that the winter will take those who do not prepare, that mother animals will neglect and even devour their young if they’re sick or runty. He also sees that prey are more aggressive than predators, how some creatures will adopt and nourish infants that are not their own or even their own species, how some will share their kill with no benefit to themselves, and how even the smallest and most humble animals can make it through things that the larger, so-called stronger ones did not. Sigvid is very pragmatic, like his father, very practical, very self-preservationist. He has to be. But he’s also very spiritual, not in a way that connects to some distant god, but the world around him, to earth and nature. Not some idealized hippie-dippie conception of nature as a loving mother that is always in balance, but an acceptance that it is a greater power that he cannot control, he can only hope to survive at best. It keeps him humble. It also gives him a much wider, more relative perspective on things that is not human-centric, or Asgardian-centric for that matter. My Shaw often says that he admires human accomplishments above all else, that no other animal has built cities, computers, cars, and so on. And he is correct in this. But Sigvid always points out, how many termite mounds has man built? How many times do humans migrate thousands of miles using an innate sense of the Earth’s magnetic fields? How many fish have we hunted by literally sensing the electricity in their bodies? Yes, humans are “the best” if we judge them by standards HUMANS MADE. Judge us by the base standard of any other species, and we flop. Same for judging any species by the standards of any other. Nothing is “more” or “less” evolved than anything else, more complex does not mean better, and nor does being bigger, stronger, meaner, or even smarter mean a species is “better” or “more evolved” either. Survival of the fittest is not about that, nor about individuals; it’s about how well a species fits its environment and niche. A slime mold is just as evolved as a person. Sigvid is very passionate about this, though he’s not the type to speak up most of the time; he’s stoic and saturnine, used to keeping his mouth closed and his thoughts to himself, because most of the time there’s no one to talk to. And that also means he’s learned to exist without the validation and approval of others---ironically, something that is much like his father, learned in a completely different environment.

A lot of this, obviously, comes from Skadi. He was at side her since infancy learning to hunt and track, learning the difference between wood sorrel and white clover, how to tell when a moose is about to charge, and what it means when the woods go quiet. This connects deeply to Skadi’s Jotunn side in particular, which in Norse lore are thought to have symbolized the inherently chaotic and uncontrollable nature of, well, nature! Though Sigvid would not, nature it’s chaotic, it’s actually very ordered, people just don’t bother to understand what’s inconvenient to them. But where he differs from Skadi is that he’s not a Disney princess. Animals don’t hang out with him. He doesn’t nurse injured creatures back to health. He doesn’t keep pets. He does not see them as friends. They are not less than him, but they are not allies, they are beings he co-exists with, avoids, or eats. At least, until a thylacine started hanging out with him. Yeah, a thylacine. The extinct Tasmanian tiger. Who knows where it came from or why he’s attached itself to him, but he’s very adamant she’s not a pet and he hasn’t named her, but she is THERE. Sometimes. She isn't at his side like a dog, it's more she's following him from a distance and she pokes her head out from the trees somewhere. She's not a pet. She's more a parasite. But unlike Shaw, Sigvid doesn't use that term in a bad way, and he's fine with her presence. He's just curious where the hell an extinct Australian animal came from? Obviously, Sigvid is not interacting with people a lot, but when he does, he’s far less awkward or boisterous than people expect. He doesn’t have the overt weirdness people expect from a hermit, nor the bombastic warrior cliché of an Asgardian, or the vicious stereotype of a Jotunn. He has a quiet but overwhelming elegance, not like an aristocrat but like a great stag emerging from the forest. He chooses his words carefully, and can say much with just a few. He walks the middle ground between judging by individuals and judging by species; he does a little of both. He has preconceptions and generalities that he believes in about each group, but also believes in room for exception. After all, he’s not what a lot of people expect, is he? Despite this, he’s frequently misread as disliking people, but he doesn’t. He is utterly neutral on them, he just prefers his own way of life. Likewise, he tends to be very neutral towards individuals, and this also is often misread as dislike. One thing he does dislike though, is when people try to endear themselves to him by talking about how they agree animals are better than people, or say stuff like you know only man kills for pleasure. . . .this actually just annoys him. Firstly, a lot of animals do kill for pleasure. Secondly, when people say animals/nature is better than people. . . .they’re forgetting that people---humans, Asgardians, Jotunn---are animals too. This is just another way people, of any sort, try to insist they’re something special and different, whether in a negative or positive way. It doesn’t impress him. What impresses him tends to be how well people work within their niche, whatever niche that is. Like Shaw, he doesn’t really judge in terms of conventional morality, but a person’s success----Sigvid’s definition of success is just much wider. Like, maybe you dive for a living---are you a good diver? A great cafeteria worker? The best toilet cleaner in the tri-state area? He admires that and he commends you. When he is angered, he stays quiet, and his response is swift and physical; he either leaves or strikes physically and then leaves. When he feels sufficiently bonded with someone. . . he is still quiet. He appreciates a person who doesn't need to be filling the silences between them to feel comfortable and kinship. And kinship for him is rare, but he's not lonely----just also not adverse to it, as many assume he is. People assume a lot about Sigvid, and most of it is wrong, but he's also very chill with it. Sigvid is a very chill guy.

Special Talents: Besides the obviously mentioned talents for hunting, tracking, foraging, survivalism, and nature knowledge? Many people think he’s some kind of seer because he’s good at predicting storms and such, but actually he’s just very good at reading the signs most people aren’t attuned to. He also presumably has the attributes of Asgardians and Jotuns (super strength, etc) but if he has a mutant power, it has yet to manifest. Also cannot assume a Frost Giant form. Who they like better: Skadi, though eventually he does respect his father for performing so well at what he does

Who they take after more: I think both equally in different ways Personal Head canon: -He really likes amethyst geodes. -He finds a lot of manufactured foods, like chips or snack cakes, to be WAAAAY too strongly salty or sweet for him to stomach, is allergic to Red Dye #40, and he finds the taste of domesticated animals to be weird. - Not much of a dairy person, but ghee is good -Dislikes when people stereotype hillbillies as stupid; as in like, people who are genuinely living in the hills and mountains of the American Southeast, they're an interesting people with their own unique culture like any other group that lives off the land in isolation---which he respects---and not interchangeable with typical rednecks. -He doesn't typically carry anything with him that's not a necessity, if he knows he's going to be seeing people soon, he will pick up knick-knacks he finds in abandoned places and distribute them like a weird Santa Claus. Who, he's met, by the way, and according to him, Father Christmas is something of a badass. - He will always buy your homemade soaps, and I have no idea what he's doing with them. Yes, maybe he's using them in the normal intended way but IM NOT SURE?? - Pops up in art museums. People never expect him to be here, in these cathedrals dedicated to human creation, but he is. I think he views art a bit differently than the average person, but he's there all the same. - He's an Aquarius but there is a LOT of Saturn in his chart - The first Midgard movie he saw was Forrest Gump. He was expecting it to be about something else because of the title, but he enjoyed it and LEARNED THIS DANCE Face Claim: n/a

[adrianodiprato]

+ “Your breathing. The beating of your heart. The expansion of your lungs. Your mere presence is all that is needed to establish your worth” ~ Lyanla Vanzant.

Sunshine Heights Primary School

This afternoon I paid a visit to the first primary school I ever attend, Sunshine Heights Primary School in Sunshine West. I left Grade 4 at the school in 1981 to enrol in a local Catholic primary school for Grades 5 & 6.

I have two memories of my time at Sunshine Heights. The first was that I remember having one of my wisdom teeth removed by the on-site dentist. Yes, I said dentist, and I too have no idea why the primary school had a dental clinic on site. But I do recall the pain of having numerous anaesthetic injections and asking the dentist to stop with the injections and just pull it out. And so, she did!

The second is this photo above. Under the photo was my Christian name, home address, and the following few statements:

I like to ride my bike and play with my toys.

Alan is my best friend.

At school I like to do my sums.

I like reading.

In this picture I am looking at the board.

So, I was keen to return after almost 40 years, to see what else I could remember from my childhood experience at Sunshine Heights. Although this visit didn’t necessary bring up any old memories, apart from recognising the location of the tuckshop, down ball courts and some of the classroom structures, I encounter something far more significant.

I encountered a Principal in David Cocks who is a living embodiment of a school leader that leads from the construct of permission. That rare commodity that only a small percentage of school leaders possess. It was abundantly clear that David operates from the deep position of trust, trust in the inherent ability of his highly dedicated staff and trust in the inherent possibility of each young person in his care. He gives all in his community the permission to operate from their true selves, and the space to be genuinely seen, heard, known, and loved. Powerful.

During my visit today I encountered this poem, which stands before you is what Sunshine Heights wants for their students, teachers, leaders, staff and community to aspire to:

David embodies the aspiration of this poem, granting permission for all learners to enter a space of awe and wonder, or as I like to call it, a pedagogy of encounter, a deep encounter and tuning in with self, place and the other. Real, raw and vulernable. This pedagogy of encounter is embedded into the daily practice of the staff, students, and parents of Sunshine Height, manifested through their four pillars of courage, connection, commitment, and collaboration. Wherever you walk on the campus you’ll encounter these four pillars, not just in word but more profoundly in practice. Collaborative learning is complemented my staff forming intentional connections and positive relationship with the young people and vice-a-versa. All in a harmonious environment, equally deeply committed to the strength of their multicultural diversity and inclusion, through leveraging their courage to aspire to simply be more, for self, place and the other.

At Sunshine Heights Primary School, students are actively involved in learning experiences that focus on building understanding through explicit instruction using an inquiry approach and play learning opportunities. I witnessed creative and inquisitive learners, where laughter, play, pride, joy and happiness were a constant thread across all classrooms and in the spaces in between. Most uplifting.

We are in an interesting time in human history. There has been a real paradigm shift from the industrial age to one centred around connectedness like no other time in our history. For the first time in history most of us have the chance to decide what to do next, what to create and how to deliver it. The problem is that most people won’t take that chance because they are not prepared to be vulnerable.

Well, David and his staff are not afraid to be vulnerable, with each other and with their students. Being open to the construct of permission, means we enter a space where one thing is liking to occur, either we learn through failure, or learn through success. Being open, giving ourselves this permission to new continuous learning and unlearning teaches us the value of vulnerability in the way we can ultimately learn, lead, live and work.

Today's blog message is therefore about imploring a commitment to learning that is personal, that requires the guts of a deep tuning in, that calls for active participation, and that has the potential to change everything for the individual and our collective humanity. If you believe that you have no talent, in anything, then you are hiding. Life might scare you, sharing your thinking with others might scare you. Leading might scare you. But doing nothing by standing still, instead of standing up, should scare you the most. For there to be courage, there must be risk, being open to our own possibility through the profoundness of vulnerability.

The harsh reality is that there isn’t a pain-free way to achieve one’s goals. It takes the determination of foundational pillars like Sunshine Heights’ courage, connection, commitment, and collaboration, to navigate the internal ocean of our ups and downs. Some haven’t succeeded with their learning yet, or their leading yet, not because they can’t figure it out, but because they haven’t been willing to try and simply do it. Always claiming it’s all too hard, or what will others think. Nonetheless through action comes liberation of one’s heart and mind. The permission to triumph.

We all know that pain is real. It’s the pain of possibility, vulnerability and risk that hurts the most. The easiest way to avoid this pain is to lead and live a life that numbs you, simply existing. It is time however for all school leaders to consider the notion of vulnerability in all aspects of their leadership. To be vulnerable is to be new, fresh and risky, the natural antagonists of predictable, boring and safe. Education and knowledge are not limited to just gaining control and power. Leading learning communities and building collective knowledge is transformational. Transforming self is everything but predictable, boring or safe. Each school leader is capable of being bold, of changing more than they are willing to admit. Neil Young once stated, “Holding back is close to stealing”. Don’t rob yourself of greatness. Greatness comes to those that honour their inner truth through authentic participation in all opportunities.

The path that is available to us all is to reach higher than we’ve thought possible. Yes, by taking risks one becomes vulnerable. However, life is about an attitude and it is available to anyone who chooses to adopt it. Today I witnessed an educational leader in David Cocks with an infectious positive attitude in actively finding ways he and his school community can be better than they were yesterday, by simply saying yes to self, place and the other, this permission to being vulnerable.

One of the most common human failings in many schools is that some school leaders settle for too little, mainly the status quo. It is easier to fly low as a school leader because it feels safe. By flying too low we short-change ourselves and the community that we serve. We settle for low expectations and small dreams. Often society reminds us about the dangers of standing up, standing out and making a noise. I say it is time to say I am HERE!

I will finish with this passage I love from Brené Brown’s in her book, Dare to Lead:

As you think about your path to daring leadership, remember Joseph Campbell’s wisdom: “The cave you fear to enter hold the treasure you seek.” Own the fear, find the cave and write a new ending for yourself, for the people you’re meant to serve and support, and for your culture. Choose courage over comfort. Choose whole hearts over armour. And choose the great adventure of being brave and afraid. At the exact same time.

Thank you, David, for your generosity of time and of your heart today. The young people, of my old primary school, are in the capable hands of a dynamic school leader and a staff that understand that people matter, all people and all their individual stories of being and becoming. Expect the unexpected when you visit Sunshine Heights.

Ps: I don’t remember who Alan is, but he was my best friend. And I still like reading.

[airlock]

so! Fire Emblem: Three Houses is a game that delves deep, although not very deep, in the complexities of politics and administration... and so, people get to talk about how these things happen, both in Fódlan and, as a token of comparison, in the real world!

which is why I, some college student with no background in polisci whatsoever, have decided to write this whole post on the realistic reasons why people should not want a meritocracy, whether it’s being brought about their favorite white-haired girl in a fictional world or being promised by a politician in real life who is probably swindling you

sounds like a bit of a trip, right? meritocracy is a compelling idea on paper -- eliminate entrenched privileges, give everything to the people who deserve it. we especially find such ideas inspirational when we live in times of ridged inequalities, where some people are born with everything and others with nothing, and the former continue to take everything even as they repeatedly prove their failings, while the latter toil no matter what qualities they might have. nonetheless, it’s just not that simple, and the meritocratic ideal is even one of the things that got us into this mess to begin with!

let’s go blow by blow, shall we?

merit is subjective

as it turns out, meritocracy is a very fancy way of saying “I want the people who are in charge to be good people” -- which is what we’d all be supporting if it were just that simple! you might have noticed the snag, though, in that it looks a lot more ridiculous when you replace “meritorious”, “accomplished”, “competent”, etc. with “good”, despite those being equally vague descriptors of value.

I’ll get to the point: what is merit? who decides what is merit? who decides what is meritorious?

you might quickly find out that these questions have haunted not only governments but every form of administration for millenia now -- schools, companies, recreational competitions, the artistic world... and no one, no one, ever arrives on a one answer that always works.

since Edelgard never puts forth ideas of a system through which merit might be determined -- like, say, exams, which have their own failings -- the assumption is that she’s intending to handpick whoever she might want in charge, which is a common way of implementing meritocracy. and also a terrible one! now, your position in society is dictated by the extent to which you can impress the emperor -- who, however discering, isn’t perfect, or capable of giving everyone the clinical eye. if a system of “impress the person in charge to get in” were capable of living up to the meritocratic ideal, most of us would be having far less trouble with jobs.

although not all of us, anyway, since so many of us are neurodivergent -- and oh yes, those of us who are should know from a mile away that meritocracies have this particular problem...

the meritocratic ideal is ableist

callout post for the- ahem

have you perchance seen Edelgard and Linhardt’s support conversations? the one where he repeatedly frustrates Edelgard by being too neurodivergent to put his gifts to the efficient streamlined methodology that she favours? the one where he makes it clear that he can’t thrive in a result-oriented environment, so Edelgard busts her rump to figure out some way to give him a job that makes use of his talents?

well, he was lucky that he got to personally befriend the emperor and weasel her into some distincitvely unmeritocratic policy, because anyone else who cannot thrive in a result-oriented environment will have no such luck. and that’s precisely what a meritocratic society is: a result-oriented environment of society itself.

hell, you could even take a moment to notice that a lot of the insults that are routinely hurled at disabled people are also the criticisms that people make of those they wish to eliminate through meritocracy. y’know, “lazy”, “weak”, “moocher”, the works.

now, would this be any better if our Supreme Arbitrer of Merit were exceptionally woke and able to mitigate this, be it through assistance or by implementing metrics of merit that better suit the neurodivergent? perhaps. but as we think through these utopias, we ram a separate problem...

meritocracies cannot be implemented in a vacuum

the meritocratic narrative has us constantly thinking of the incompetent privileged vs. the competent underprivleged, but those simply aren’t the only types of people who exist in society. in fact, we’d have to expect that privilege would mostly make people more competent -- this doesn’t sound great until you realize that the alternative is to claim that poverty is good because it builds character and other similar kinds of nonsense we very much know to be untrue.

when it comes down to it, anyone can sit on the throne and say “I declare meritocracy to be happenning right now”, but saying that doesn’t erase the inequalities previously existing in the system. if I decided to make the whole world participate in a race a month from now, everyone starting from the same starting line and running the same course to the end, who do you think would win -- someone who eats well everyday and has as much leisure time as they want to practice running, or someone who has to continue working three jobs? sure, every now and then you’d have an exceptional runner out of the unexpected end, and you’d also have lots of privileged people who just don’t feel like runnin’, but systematically speaking, most of the winners would still probably be the ones who can throw more resources at winning.

and that’s to say nothing of the fact that pre-existing privileges also make it a lot easier to perform merit. I’ve mentioned both schools and exams so far in this post about meritocracy, right? there’s something in that topic that my mind keeps coming back to, actually -- entry exams for universities in my country.

right now, my country is experiencing an elusive demographical phenomenon where the majority of the population is college-aged; in a good country, this would mean college-level education would be thriving, but in this country, it means that each university has become far more selective with who gets to enroll. thus, all the universities with any sort of prestige above the level of “pay to get your Instant Diploma (Just Add Water) here” run yearly entry exams and enroll the people who get the best scores. sounds meritocratic, right? except now, there’s also a rash of cram schools dedicated to training people to do well on these exams, and with the high demand, they tend to be somewhat costly. in other words, if you’re born into money, you’ll have an opportunity to be taught the rotes necessary to pass the verification of merit.

people haven’t yet figured out a way to prevent meritocracies from just completely corroding under the weight of that problem, given enough time. whatever the metric you set for merit -- even if it is, in fact, the metric of “impress the emperor” -- someone will start selling better prospects for fitting that metric, and the ones buying will be the already privileged ones.

but even if it weren’t for all that...

meritocracy is discrimination

so far, I’ve mostly exponded on the issues with “merit”; however, the real gaping one actually lies in “kratos”, power.

“everything to the people who have earned it” sounds like good mote, if you don’t think too much about the converse -- “nothing to the people who have not earned it”. however successfully you might address all the other problems I’ve brought up so far, the fact is that meritocracies, inherently through their design, build societies of haves and have-nots.

and the thing is, there’s no turning back once you do that. eventually, a generation will pass, and the haves and have-nots will have passed the torch to their children; whose children will be best prepared to perform merit? and besides, giving power to the meritorious means they get to make decisions, set policies, write laws -- what’s stopping them from decreeing, blatantly or subtly, that society should favour their own and disfavour their enemies?

in other words, meritocracies can’t create societies with more equal opportunities, because they are inherently unequal themselves. in fact, basically all the notable unequal systems we’ve experienced historically were born as meritocracies of some sort. you know the nobility system that edelgard hates so much? in real-life Europe, the nobles were mostly the far-flung descendants of the most meritorious roman generals. and as for us, living under the boots of the 1% who can do whatever they want? once upon a time, these people had all the same rights as a peasant. and when the day comes when we finally topple these buffoons in the name of not just a better society but also an extant planet, the only way we can break the cycle is by not buying into the idea that meritocracies are a good thing -- be it in fiction or in real life.

[ffwriteradvisor]

Character skill sets

Obviously, you don’t really want a character that brings nothing to the table. On the other hand, a character who can do anything and everything so good that they can compete with deities dedicated to the subject of the day is often too much for the average reader to believe. There’s also a matter of how well the skills mesh together in practice, the amount of variety brought to the table, the difference between a developed skill and a mere talent, the nature of the skills - are they the sort of thing that anyone can develop or are they based on some inherent trait? - and how age and life experience plays into building a character’s ‘resume’.

It’s, as you can tell by the small laundry list I just rattled off, a tricky business.

Good news - there aren’t any hard and fast rules to giving characters skills. There are some guidelines and you’ll often find yourself playing by ear to see if your latest take strikes a sour note or not, but there are only a few ways to really do it wrong and, even then, there’s ways to salvage it.

But let’s focus on the points I listed already.

Let’s Play ‘Pick The Protagonist’ - (The Problem Of The Unique Protagonist Asset)

How many stories have you watched or read where the main character has a special, one-of-a-kind ability that makes them stand out above all the other characters in the story?

The answer is probably ‘a lot’. It can take the form of a one-in-a-million power, a sacred sword that only allows one hand to wield it, a legacy passed down over the ages... there’s a lot to work with here.

There’s nothing wrong with doing that with your protagonist. It’s probably one of the better reasons for dragging a random person into the plot - if you’re the only person who can stop the end of the world because the anti-Doomsday weapon decided that it lives in your hand now, there’s not a lot you can do about it. But there’s also something to be said for a protagonist that doesn’t have a grand destiny giving him a fair shot at victory just by merit of existing.

Plus, like. There’s also logistical issues to deal with. So let’s address those.

Depending on the story or fandom that you’re working on, a unique protagonist asset isn’t feasible. Sometimes because such things don’t exist in-universe (One Piece would be a good example of a series where literally the only thing you need to be a contender is a will to succeed and a boat, though I guess you could consider Conqueror’s Haki or a Devil Fruit ability ‘unique assets’...), but sometimes it’s just because the canon main character of the story you’re writing for already has that asset on lock.

There are ways around the second - you can kill off the original guy and take their place through reincarnation as said-guy, plot erasure of the guy (just flat-out make it so he doesn’t exist, it’ll be fine), or just being a convenient runner-up who happens to meet the bare minimum requirements to be the guy.

You can also shoehorn your OC into position to turn the Chosen Uno into the Chosen Duo, though this path of action doesn’t have the best reputation historically thanks to the influence of the Dread Mary-Sue on fandom culture (I’ll be posting an article about that eventually), or change the story to make room for a large range of potential Chosen - this one specifically can allow for an added plot aspect, because suddenly there’s competition to achieve the final goal and complete the quest for whatever.

And on that subject, let’s jump to our next point!

The Problem With Superman (and how to challenge the man who has everything) 

Now, there’s no shortage of characters who, quite simply, are written to be good at everything - sometimes not even just good, but the very best ever. No, I’m not talking specifically about the Dread Mary-Sue, though the archetype associated with that term does often come with such a description. This is a pitfall just about anyone can fall into, irrespective of age, gender, background, or the originality of the work in question, even if the most blatant forms of it seem pretty easy to avoid.

Most writers know better than to make one character good at everything, but you get exceptions fairly regularly. Batman writers, for one, have a tendency to assume that Batman knows everything there is to know and can defeat anyone on his own ‘given enough prep-time’. There’s also the fact that a fair few Superman stories often have to call on Kryptonians or Kryptonite to make the plot complicated enough that the solution of ‘just move really fast and take advantage of invulnerability to punch/move/freeze/melt the problem before bad thing happen’ doesn’t work.

Then you have the more subtle examples. Where a character isn’t good at ‘everything’... just everything relevant to the plot and what we see of the setting. A good way to pick out this is to look at a story and start removing characters. Remove the science guy, the spy, the sidekick... If you can shave the cast down to your Super-suspect without having to change any major or middling-size plot points, twists, and story beats or having to shift the difficulty level of the setting, you probably have a problem.

Obviously, this doesn’t work for every story, especially if they have a very small cast to begin with. There’s also the fact that most stories are built around emotional journey’s instead of ‘use x skill to get to y place at z time’. But a lack of difficulty or danger played completely straight is something of a warning sign if you’re working with a genre that requires that there be some manner of challenge in the story.

So, let’s take a look at some of the more specific issues with power distribution.

Equal Opportunity Asskicking vs. There Can Only One Chosen One In This Town (how common is power in the setting and how does that affect the plot)

Have you ever thought about how many series - video games in particular - have the protagonist solve all the problems they come across, even the ones that seem like the sort of thing any rando could handle? Especially when you have a big organization that could theoretically handle a few of these things without the protagonist being present for everything?

It’s often hand-waved as ‘they’re not strong enough to deal with it’, but why would that make sense? If the setting is so dangerous, why isn’t there more people operating at or above the protagonist’s power level without being a member of the primary cast herd? If there’s such a dangerous colony of animals on this island, why are these fragile citizens still living there? Why is this martial art that’s so powerful and useful so goddamn rare and special despite its utility? How did such a weak person climb so far up in an organization that seems to value the punchinating power of its employees above all else?

It doesn’t make sense.

This is a problem that plagues a lot of series with an emphasis on fighting. The average person becomes an alien creature as the protagonists and antagonists gain more and more power and take down bigger and bigger opponents. The ante keeps going up and the rest of the world stays down where it started, which... well. Doesn’t make sense.

Think about Dragon Ball for a moment. On the Earth of that series, how many people would you say represent any kind of physical threat to the protagonists or the antagonists at any point in the story? I’m not asking over the course of the story if Dragon Ball-era Goku could stand even half a chance against Cooler, but if you took a specific episode from like... oh, I don’t know, the Cell Saga, how many people on the planet at that time would stand a chance of surviving the events of said-episode if they were brought into the blast radius of the plot?

The number is probably in the low tens. And the fact that, even with a lifetime of training in setting, the best chance for a person in that setting to survive that specific scenario would be coming from ‘superior’ alien stock such as the Saiyans.

And Cell isn’t even the top of the danger totem pole in setting.

Going back to our previous example, One Piece is a fairly good example of how to handle this. There are many routes of power in the series - Devil Fruits, Haki, training, inherent species traits, and more are possible in terms of physical strength, but there is also value given to intelligence and the ability to strategize and create unconventional solutions. Even the ‘weakest’ member of the Straw Hat Pirates, Usopp, who has no Devil Fruit, species ability, mutations, or, alterations, and only one form of Haki (fairly recently awakened and not even one of the offensive utility variants), is able to keep up with the rest of the crew by having a variety of weapons and skills he has developed himself. There’s also the fact that people in the setting tend to be fairly well developed to the danger levels of their relative environments, either in terms of physical strength or having strategies to deal with the dangers around them.

It still suffers from the emphasis on combat before most else, which is common in Shonen, but it at least feels fairly balanced compared to some other series that have a similar approach to strength in setting.

Besides power distribution in a setting, there are other things to consider beyond combat applicable skills.

Combo Platters/The Five Basic Food Groups (the importance of variety and moderation)

There are different types of skills that you need to balance when making a character, both in terms of variety and rationing them out in a reasonable manner.

There are career skills (good for making money, but not overly relevant to day-to-day life), utility skills (cooking, cleaning, basic home repair, etc.), recreational skills (art, music, other specific skills that aren’t necessary for day-to-day activities but lack the immediate financial reliability of career skills), interpersonal skills, and combat skills (self-explanatory).

Obviously, different skills have different ‘weights’ in terms of plot impact. A fighting series probably won’t make much of a character’s house painting skills unless it has an impact on their combat skills (which is entirely possible depending on how the writer goes about it), but someone knowing how to use a sword at a high level means that they’ve got a lot of physical capability to quite literally cut through the competition.

If you need a combat skill for a character... well, I already dedicated a post to talking about that specific range of skills. You can also apply their non-combat related skills to their fights in a tertiary sense - a lack of primary offense can lead to unorthodox tactics to bridge the gap.

But other skills have their uses too. It can allow you to make use of your characters outside of a combat context, reveal things about their character that might not be immediately obvious from their appearance - not just their interests, but background as well, though I’ll cover that a little later in more detail -, and bring them into the orbit of other characters naturalistically. You can only have so many Crash Into Hellos before the charm wears off for the audience.

In giving your character skills, you need to balance those skills. Making a character a ‘master of combat’ who can use any weapon under the sun like a master doesn’t work without some kind of supernatural explanation - martial artists tend to specialize. I’m not saying that you can’t have a character with multiple weapons skills - there’s a lot of historical real-world precedence for that, actually, usually in the combination of ‘ranged/close range/mid-range’. But a lot of those multiple weapon sets tend to be in sets that cover the weaknesses of the other weapons - sword, bow, and spear cover different combat ranges and needs, and there are various martial arts that teach their students weapons handling in conjunction with unarmed skills.

A generic ‘swords skill’ is non-functional - there are many types of sword in the world, varied by their size, weight, shape, and intended use in combat. Some swords are intended more for stabbing, others for slashing, and while you have more than a few that can do both, there are some are simple not built to stand up to the stresses of the other style.

They Didn’t Cover This In Kindergarten! (why you need to tailor skill-sets to your character’s life experience and background)

Another thing that can affect the size, nature, and diversity of a character’s skill set is their age, life experience, and background.

You wouldn’t expect a character that comes from nobility to have any concept of how to street fight without some kind of explanation attached. The same rule applies in reverse - you wouldn’t expect a character living in the gutter to know the nuances of fine manners and etiquette of nobility without a good reason. Depending on the period, a person from the second background couldn’t even be expected to know how to read.

That’s not to say you can’t use those things, but you have to have some kind of structure to support those additions. Maybe your noble doesn’t have the spotless background most would expect from one of their station or, in another scenario, someone pulled a Prince and Pauper switch back in the day and then neglected to switch them back. Same with your gutter rat - maybe they’re a fallen noble, maybe someone made a go at pulling a Pygmalion with them before losing interest, or maybe they’re an autodidact (that is to say, self-taught).

The age of a character can also affect the width and breadth of their skill set pool. People don’t expect five year olds to know much about anything - their reading skills are just getting started, their language skills a bit rough around the edges, and their ability to prepare food is generally limited to toast and toast-adjacent goods like sandwiches.

On the other hand, an elderly character, while having plenty of time to collect lots of skills, may not be able to utilize all of them anymore or might have even forgotten enough of them to be counter productive.

My grandmother, over the course of her life, has worked at several jobs that had fuck all to do with each other. She was a carhop at a drive-in, worked at a grocery store, worked at a local medical factory, worked at a guitar factory assembling instruments long enough to have a hand in every part of the process along with possessing the know-how to design a thing to make winding strings (I might be miss-remembering her exact description of the thing) faster and safer (and then not getting paid or credited for it after the company started using it), and drove bus for several years. She also had all the skills of an at-home housewife, a professional upholsterer, unprofessional seamstress, knows how to treat and care for wood furniture, knows how to work with and maintain leather (not how to make it though), was a very good cook until her physical condition no longer allowed her to handle such tasks, was physically capable enough at one point in her life to help with construction on her own home, and was a good enough artist that she was given two separate opportunities to go to college for the subject back in the 50′s.

That’s a lot of stuff. Each career - including housewife, as there’s a lot of work involved in homemaking - might provide for three to five distinct skills, a few of which would be extremely specific to that particular career path.

On the other hand, a lot of these skills haven’t been used for decades, meaning that not only would she be extremely out of practice, her understanding in a certain field might be anywhere from thirty to sixty years out of date. There’s also the fact that her physical condition is very different from what it was back then, meaning that even the skills she remembers how to preform correctly might not be feasible thanks to her own body failing to cooperate.

The Humble Bundle (varied skill-sets that come from specific careers/backgrounds).

As I touched on in the previous section about how to select certain skills for a character based on life experience and backgrounds (admittedly based on variety + how time factors into it, but that’s the point of specific focus sections), we‘re going to take a closer look at ‘skill clusters’.

You don’t have to cluster all of the character’s skills - in fact, I suggest making sure that you don’t do that, unless the character is specifically a bit character who is there to perform a specific function rather than being a long-term fixture in your cast - but there are some that simply are more expedient to cluster and can sometimes boggle the mind if the character sometimes lack some of those vital skills.

Say you have a character who’s a trucker (or, if you’re working with fantasy/sci-fi, the local equivalent of). They’d probably know how to handle a few different kinds of vehicles (in a mundane context, they’d probably be qualified for both commercial driving licenses and the unregistered kind most people have, but possibly also know how to handle loading vehicles), know how to repair their vehicle if it is damaged (this can vary in skill - knowing how to jury-rig a solution to a small inconvenience is very different from resurrecting a dead engine), have a good understanding of navigation, access to a trade-specific tongue (radio jargon, for one, if we’re still sticking with the mundane modern AU), know how to handle long hours of relatively boring work... and that wouldn’t even be the sum total of their skills tied in some way to this particular profession.

Still, it doesn’t read as an unrealistic amount of things for a single person to know how to do, does it?

On the other hand, if I gave you a character who’s... I don’t know, a generic protagonist of no particular employment and said that their list of skills includes navigation, medical knowledge, being an expert chef, trained fighter, classical ballerina, multiple languages, and limited telepathic ability, it reads as a bit much, doesn’t it? Especially when it just comes up out of nowhere without warning or even an allowance for being less than good at those things.

Part of it is that it takes time to learn how to do things, as we covered in the previous section. Having a talent or instinctive understanding for a particular subject can help cut down on that, but that can only excuse a few things - someone who’s a natural born fighter usually can’t turn that natural instinct towards language acquisition or legal understanding. The other part is that everyone knows that most people aren’t good at everything they turn their hand to, so even with a lot of effort, we wouldn’t expect a single person to be good at everything.

That’s why a diversified cast is important, so the needs of the group can be met in a more believable way, though there are also work arounds that can be used to keep the cast smaller or the inability of the group to meet those needs can be used to raise tension in the story. Injuries become a lot more notable when there’s no healer in the group, after all.

Gifts, Loans, and Hard-Earned Pay (the difference between talent, training, and temporary trades)

Now, there are a couple things you could use to ‘explain’ why a character is good at things. Like most of the points I’ve made so far, this is expanding on a few things I mentioned off hand in earlier parts of this article, such as the importance of age and life experience.

Now we’re going to be explaining the mechanics of why a person might be good at certain things. There are a few different approaches to this.

In terms of purely mundane ways, you have talent and training to explain why a person would have a certain level of ability with specific skills. These can’t universally be applied across the board, of course - you’d prefer someone with medical knowledge over someone who says that they have a ‘talent’ for it and there are other fields that require a person have a certain amount of instinctive ability to flourish. Most would agree that it’s important to have both in any given field - for example, art requires both talent (the ability to visualize what you want) and training (to transfer that vision to reality).

When dealing with supernatural settings, there are other routes. Boons from supernatural beings, familial inheritance, memories from a past life, temporary grants of power from special artifacts, and so on.

This can allow for a skill to be acquired quickly while also pushing along the plot in various ways, but there are a number of drawbacks to this one as well - a character who has been granted a supernatural power might lack the practical experience in how to use that power well, the memories of a past life don’t confer the physical conditioning required to actually pull off some of those skills or the world has moved on since those days, rendering those skills out of date and possibly useless, the artifact has a mind of its own and opinions on how it can/will be used, etc.

There are drawbacks to the more mundane routes as well. Training takes time and effort, along with coming with the risk that the character has been trained wrong or in a way that isn’t helpful to their current situation - ex. a medic who’s extremely competent in a hospital setting but is now stuck in a place where they have none of the resources they’re used to, a self-trained martial artist who doesn’t know how to modulate their force well and has a lot of holes in their technique because they never had a trainer to point that sort of thing out.

Talent can lead to a person becoming complacent with the idea that they’re automatically going to be good at a thing forever despite evidence around them to the contrary and make them frustrated whenever they do run into something they don’t quickly understand or make progress with.

On the upside, you can also use these to build off of each other. Training can help refine both talent and control over new gifts, a well-chosen gift can make a well-trained character something breathtaking, and discovering a previously untapped talent can throw a character who’s previously had to struggle for everything in their life a well-deserved bone.

Now, hopefully this covers enough points thoroughly enough to be helpful to everyone. If not, please shoot me a comment and I’ll try to expand on any areas I might have missed.

[love-takes-work]

Steven Universe Comic #31 (2019) - Outline & Review

The thirty-first installment of the ongoing comic series for Steven Universe is about encouraging Peedee to develop confidence and have fun during a dance contest.

Plot:

Steven and Connie are immediately excited when they see a flier advertising a dance off . . . and they could win free pizza for a year! They've got to enter!

In their enthusiasm, Steven and Connie spread the word about the dance contest to Peedee while he's getting them their fry bits. Steven's seen Peedee dance before and thinks he's got some awesome moves. He encourages Peedee to show up for the dance contest even though Peedee himself seems less than confident in his skills.

Peedee's a little worried that people will laugh at him, but Connie assures him that they will deal with anyone who laughs at him with extreme prejudice. However, Steven and Connie have their own problems; when they count their money, they don't have enough to cover the entry fee, and Steven's wealthy dad is out of town as manager of Sadie's band while they're on the road. They decide to combine their cash AND their bodies and enter as Stevonnie. Decision made, they practice dancing.

Peedee sees Stevonnie dancing and compliments them. He seems distressed, though, and admits to Stevonnie that he worries about his dancing because he's "in his own head" about it, in stark contrast to the carefree way Stevonnie dances. He feels inadequate competing against them, and in a burst of motivation, he asks if they'd mind giving him dance lessons. Stevonnie, flattered, consents.

Peedee still struggles with confidence, while Stevonnie is an unending fountain of positivity about how good he'll do at the dance off. He's still unsure when the dance off begins, and when Stevonnie sees him, they ask him to come out and dance. He's hesitant, and Stevonnie respects if he does not want to dance, but they encourage him and play up what fun it will be. Peedee finds that to be true when he accepts.

Soon they're all having a great time, but Stevonnie becomes conflicted when they realize the judges are focusing on and encouraging them. They want to win, but they want Peedee to win! How can they do both? Luckily, Mr. Smiley appears and provides an out: He wants Stevonnie to emcee instead of participate, because Nanefua lost her voice and their substitute DJ--Onion!--refuses to speak. With some relief at not having to compete against Peedee, they accept the last-minute emcee gig.

Stevonnie amps up the crowd and calls out compliments for all the dancers on the floor. But eventually, a dance off emerges. And who might it be? Jamie vs. Peedee!

The dancing heats up and both dancers are having a blast. The judges select a winner and give the envelope to Stevonnie to read, but a seagull snatches it and they have to pass the announcement back to the judges. Garnet gets up and handles it. They've selected Jamie as the dance contest winner and the recipient of all that pizza.

Stevonnie is concerned that Peedee will be so disappointed, and runs out to console him. But this turns out to be unnecessary . . . because Peedee, despite even his own expectations, really enjoyed the dance contest. He had an excellent time!

Mayor Nanefua comes to comment on the close call (though she can still hardly speak; lost voice you know). Peedee and Stevonnie feel very good about the outcome! And what's more, Nanefua awards Stevonnie a lesser prize of 1 month's free pizza for helping out with the emceeing. Stevonnie offers to split a pizza with Peedee and the comic ends.

Notable:

1. In the very beginning, in the place where Steven discovers the dance off flier, there is also a flier for "Sadie and the Killers," which seems like a corruption of Sadie's actual band name, "Sadie Killer and the Suspects." In the previous comic, #30, Steven also calls the band "Sadie and the Killers" in dialogue, though he also referred to them correctly earlier in that comic. Seems to be a weird misconception somewhere that keeps getting repeated. (Later in this one, Mr. Smiley mentions "Sadie Killer," but not the rest of the band name.)

2. In other news, I'm also very curious about the poor lost iguana being searched for by Ronaldo on another flier. I sure hope Brody's okay! But maybe it's good that the iguana escaped Ronaldo . . . one never knows.

3. When Steven is urging Peedee to enter the dance contest based on having seen him dance before and thinking he's talented, it reminds me a little of when Steven did the same thing to encourage Sadie to sing in Beach-A-Palooza in the TV episode "Sadie's Song."

4. Steven and Connie suddenly own piggy banks that they dramatically bring together to count their money for the entry fee. When it's only enough combined cash to make one entry fee, that inspires Stevonnie's entry instead of separate entries, and the author remembered that Steven's dad is way too rich to not be able to give Steven a $40 entry fee, so they had him conveniently out of town with no way to ask him for money. I do kinda wish they'd just decided to fuse for the contest because they wanted to, or so they wouldn’t have to compete against each other, or to choose to save money, instead of having a setup where they were pushed into that conclusion due to lack of funds with the First National Bank of Dad conveniently out of town. This is nitpicky, but in a comic where several developments occurred due to coincidences and forced circumstances, I would have preferred seeing some agency.

5. Stevonnie's Gem is drawn sort of inconsistently in this comic. It's supposed to be pentagonal but it shows up as hexagonal most of the time. It's strange because the same artist worked on this comic who worked on the previous one and Stevonnie was in that comic too with the correct facet configuration.

6. Peedee has a weird little mini-Frybo that he's carrying around in this comic. He hides his face behind it once while he's embarrassed. What a throwback.

7. Stevonnie encourages Peridot to "get out of the Temple more" at one point. I wonder if that means she's supposed to be still living in Steven's bathroom in this part of the timeline. Comics exist in a weird limbo sometimes.

8. Stevonnie's encouragement for Peedee is all really cute and relatable. All the scenes where they're helping Peedee are so genuinely full of Steveny optimism.

9. Mr. Smiley appearing and begging Stevonnie to emcee is a strange scene because he claims he's been looking for Stevonnie "since the competition started," and yet right before that we see him at the judges' table looking at them and approving with the other judges, in no apparent panic to recruit them as an emcee. I'm just as puzzled that Mr. Smiley couldn't just do it himself instead of acting like he's desperate for Stevonnie's help, considering it was supposed to be Nanefua's job (forfeited due to her lost voice) and she's also a judge so it can't be because he needed to be free for judging. It would've been a nice little gesture if someone on the panel (surely Garnet!) noticed Stevonnie's conflict and suggested this solution, but there was no indication that the problem was fabricated.

10. They call Barb "Mrs. Miller" in this comic--it's unclear in the show whether Barb has a partner, but nothing has indicated that Sadie has another parent in the picture or that her mom is married to anyone. I am not sure if she's actually a Mrs., but so far in canon we just have absence of evidence.

11. Garnet congratulating Jamie and referring to the prize as "more pizza than is usually recommended" and "enjoy your many, many, many pizzas" was hilarious and great writing for Garnet.

12. I love that Peedee enjoyed himself even though he didn't win the dance-off, but I felt a little disappointed that the story elected to take Stevonnie out of the conflict inherent in competing against a friend you're rooting for by throwing an equally appealing escape right in their path in the form of them being NEEDED for another role. It's nice that there was still a conflict that Peedee had to face and work through, but at the same time I kinda would have liked to see Stevonnie resolve the issue without a ready-made exit. And I feel similarly about a seagull snatching the winner-reveal envelope out of their hand so they didn't even have to personally announce that Peedee didn't win. I liked that Stevonnie got to have some free pizza too, though, since Steven and Connie seemed to really want that pizza but didn't care as much about how others felt about their dancing.

13. Man, Peedee enters the contest just wearing his usual tank top that he wears at work. Doesn't that boy have any other clothes?

14. I thought the way the dancing was drawn in this comic had some excellent energy! It really conveyed motion very well and each frame looked like it captured bodies on their way to another position, not just awkwardly posing. I love when art can do that.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

[shyly-yours]

not too obvious

notes: was inspired by a reddit snapshot. it’s really quite adorable.

---

“Quick, let me hold your hand!”

“Sora, I’m eating lunch--”

“I only have five minutes to feel everybody’s hand before I have to make my next delivery!”

Lea put down his chopsticks inside the Cheeto’s bag he was holding. He wasn’t five anymore and did not appreciate cheesy powder clinging to his clean hands. “First, gross. Second, do I even--hey!”

Sora took Lea’s free hand and interlaced their fingers in a firm hold for several seconds. The hungry man learned the best tactic to any Sora brand shenanigans was to let it play out, and then bail when it looked like government enforcement got involved. “I would say you should buy me dinner first, but I kind of think Riku would have a problem with his boyfriend of four years taking out his ex-lover on a date.”

“No, this isn’t right either,” Sora mumbled and then sighed while letting Lea go. “I’ve held at least a hundred hands today and none of them are right!”

Shaking out his released digits, Lea set down his Cheeto’s, leaned forward on the table they were currently occupying, placed his elbows on the surface, and put his head onto his folded hands. “Well, if we’re doing hand counts now--instead of bodies--I can positively say you’ve actually one upped me for once. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve done Kairi, Ventus, Roxas, Terra, and Xehanort--”

“Maybe, check, check, check, and what the fuck.”

“--and none of them feel right.” Sora ruffled his spikes as he sighed. “Why are you the only one here? I was hoping to feel Isa’s hand before he left for band practice. Did he leave already?!”

“It’s a holiday, dumbass. How did you even get in here? The shop isn’t open--waaait, did you make copies of the key I gave you years back?”

“There’s no time for questions, Lea! It’s imperative you tell me where Isa is!!”

“I’m not telling you where my other half is if you’re just going to molest him like you did me.”

“What?! I did NOT--”

“Sora? What are you doing here?” Namine’s sweet voice asked from the break room doorway. “Doesn’t Riku have a show tonight? You’re usually with him when he does.”

“Let me hold your hand!”

----

There was a talent show at a convention Sora took Riku to that one time. They were dressed as popular video game characters that Riku had no clue about, but he would do just about anything for Sora (well, okay, he would do anything for Sora), and they received positive comments everywhere they went. Therefore, it was easy for Sora to persuade Riku into a duet to “give the people what they want”. It was a wonderful memory Riku cherished very much. 

He has to remind himself that Sora didn’t orchestrate Riku being discovered by an attending talent agency representative. Riku thought it was a joke at first--he was a good singer, but he didn’t think it would necessitate things like recording contracts or publicity interviews. He wasn’t so far gone into stardom that he needed a bodyguard to protect him from invading paparazzi. He was in that sweet spot of having gained enough notoriety to be recognized once or twice while buying toilet paper with his cute boyfriend at the local supermarket. 

It’s just... most of the good things to happen in Riku’s life are usually associated with Sora. It took him a while to recognize self sabotage and learning to take time-outs when haunting thoughts resurfaced before old habits reverted him back to a person Riku didn’t like. Sora met him at this stage in his life--a chapter where Riku looked at gift horses in the mouth and manipulated the situation into a disaster before anybody else could ruin it. Despite fading into a toxic shell, Sora remained his friend, eventually a best friend, and coaxed Riku back “into the light” where Sora knew he belonged. Such a genuine person deserved somebody who didn’t occasionally hiccup, right?

“So when are you planning on asking him?”

Riku and Kairi sat side-by-side on the edge of the amphitheater stage. “You don’t think it’s too soon to ask him to marry me?”

Kairi shoved Riku’s shoulder with hers and said in a disbelieving tone, “Are you seriously asking my opinion about whether or not you should ask Sora, our impulsive and reckless and dearly beloved Sora who you have been dating and living with for a while now--”

“Only because I was getting evicted!”

“--who, might I also add, has been deeply in love with you since the day you two first met--”

“You just said he’s impulsive and reckless. I don’t know if I’ve been complimented or insulted.”

“--and whether or not you should marry him?”

Kairi stared.

“...the jury’s still out?”

And then smacked Riku upside the head.

----

What’s fascinating about the world of Sora is that he inherently knows when the time is right. His mother always told him to follow his heart when it came to the facts of life and making tough choices. Leaving Destiny Islands behind was an internal struggle, but a necessary change as Sora felt the universe calling him elsewhere. He made new friends, reunited with other adventuring islanders, and eventually landed in the energetic hubbub of Radiant Garden.

This is where he met Riku, one of the adventuring islanders Sora was surprised existed (although now he knows better than think he was the first to venture away from Destiny Islands). It wasn’t obvious then, but Sora’s heart knew Riku would always be a part of his life. Now to find the correct hand measurement for the ring he wanted to buy to further cement Riku’s permanency in his world.

“I’m really exhausted trying to find Cinderella’s shoe--”

“We made a list of code words, Sora, and you’re still sticking to this one?!”

“--and I’m not going to give up until I find the right hand, but Aqua I’m really starting to freak out here. LOOK OUT I’M COMING THROUGH!”

Sora threw his cellphone into the bicycle basket in order to put both of his hands onto the handlebars for better swerve control. Exclamations and shocked shouts were hollered in his direction both from walking pedestrians and his mobile. Sora was never meant to multitask at any capacity no matter his stubbornness to improve his lack of skill. Riku said Sora must have been born under a new moon to have been inhibited with so much chaos. 

“SORA! What’s happening?!”

Out of harms way and coming up to his final destination, Sora plucked his cell out of the basket and resumed his conversation. “Sorry, Aqua! Yen Sid’s Bao buns have been really popular today and he called me in to help with deliveries before Riku’s concert tonight!”

Aqua sighed in disapproval. “I really wish you wouldn’t talk and drive, Sora.”

“It hasn’t been that bad today! I only crashed once and it was smooth sailing up until just a minute ago.”

“So let’s reset the accident calendar to ‘zero days since last incident’, shall we?”

“Can we focus on what’s really important right now?”

“Oh! You mean you don’t want to discuss the state of your health and well-being? Because I have a mountain of evidence that says there should have been an intervention weeks ago.”

It was Sora’s turn to sigh. “Okay, I hear you Aqua! I need to take better care of myself! No need to mother hen me into an early grave.”

“I love you, Sora, but how does that even make sense?”

“Listen,” Sora grabbed the last take-out bag, walked up to the townhouse front door, and knocked. “I haven’t found a hand that resembles Riku’s and if I don’t get the ring size for the jeweler soon, tonight will be ruined. Well, not ruined-ruined because Riku is perfect and wonderful and his show is going to be GREAT but, like, I want to be married to him already, Aqua!”

The last part of Sora’s tirade came out whiny and the person who answered his knock heard every single syllable. “Um...”

“Oh! Hello, my name’s Sora and I’m your delivery service today! Oh behalf of Heavenly Buns we thank you for your order!”

“I thought you were joking when you said that was the name of Yen Sid’s restaurant,” Aqua mumbled to herself.

The patron smiled at Sora’s enthusiasm. “Awesome! I paid over the app already, but, um, give me a sec to get get you a tip.”

Already on the edge of despair from time’s harsh reality, Sora glanced at his wristwatch (anniversary gift) and said, “It’s totally okay! Your thanks is enough!”

“No, no, no, I have my wallet nearby. I used to work as a pizza delivery guy and I know how hard this job can be,” the customer said. He grabbed his food and left to find the aforementioned wallet leaving Sora to awkwardly stand on his doorstep.

“It’s nice to know there’s still decent people around,” his phone crackled. 

Biting his lip nervously, Sora sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I’m really anxious about getting his ring in time and, well...”

“I’m listening.”

“...him saying yes.”

Sora couldn’t see her, but Aqua has been his confident throughout this excursion and he knew she was softly smiling. “Sora... do you want me to list all of the reasons why he is going to say yes to you like Kairi? Or do you want me to sprout endless quips like Lea until you finally get it knocked into your brain?”

“Um, how about some mother henning like Aqua?” It was Sora’s worst kept secret that he gravitated towards his friends that had strong maternal qualities when he had an episode. It was his quiet way of remembering his mother who passed two years earlier.

Sora heard a change of background noise and the click of a door shutting. He imagined Aqua stepped outside of her house as she tended to do that to better focus on serious conversations. “I may not have known you two from the beginning of your relationship, but I rarely see a person look at you the way Riku does every time you’re both in the same room together, Sora. You might not notice, but Riku is always making sure you’re comfortable first before he takes care of his own needs. He’s a dependable young man that cherishes the heart you have given him and he will always protect it from harm. It actually makes me jealous you found somebody that compatible in midst of your uncontrollable life.”

Rubbing at his eyes, Sora released a surprised laugh. Shakily, he said, “Riku worked hard to become the person he is now. He just needed somebody to believe in him to start creating the future he has now. I mean, he’s going to the next biggest pop star, Aqua! I can’t let him be tied down with me when his career hasn’t even started yet!”

“You’re doing it again, Sora.”

“...doing what?”

“Not believing in you. He won’t say no because he suddenly has a new life ahead of him. He’ll only say no if this isn’t something you want. Which, by the way ding-dong, are you already forgetting how passionate you were about wanting to be ‘married to him already’?”

“But what if he doesn’t want this?!”

“Then you will come to my place and we will hash it out over some moscato while Kairi and Lea wreak hell upon his person until he see’s sense again.”

“I don’t want him forced into marrying me, Aqua! That’s got to be illegal in several countries if not all of them!”

A throat cleared behind Sora. “Uh,” it was the customer back with the promised munny. “That sounds like a really interesting conversation you got going on there, buddy.”

Sora turned red in embarrassment. “Well, uh...” in for a penny, in for a pound. “Just, y’know, having an internal crisis about whether or not my almost famous boyfriend wants to settle down with,” Sora paused and gestured to himself, “this.”

Caught in the moment with this exchange of words, Sora barely heard Aqua on his phone, “I know you just didn’t call yourself a ‘this’. That is the equivalent of ‘it’ and you are worth so much more than that.”

The client clearly had no idea what to do. “Oh, well, um, good luck with that?” He shoved his fistful of munny at Sora. “And here! Thank you again for the delivery!”

Sora looked at the patron’s outstretched hand and froze.

“...Are you... are you okay?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“...What?”

“Your hand! Can I hold it just for a quick second, please? I promise this isn’t for something weird--well, it’s a weird request, yes I know, because you don’t know me--well, you kind of do because I told you my name, but I don’t know yours! What’s your name? WAIT, that’s not important right now!  Please help me propose to my boyfriend who I love very much?!” Sora looked at the guy with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. Considering the emotional rollercoaster he has been through recently it didn’t take much effort on his part.

The guy’s eyes widened as he considered calling for help. “Look, can you please just take the munny and go? My buns are getting cold.”

“I’ll pay for your dinner if you just hold my hand for a few seconds, sir, and I promise you’ll never see or hear from me again! Unless you wanna be friends!!”

“...Okay, I guess?”

Relieved, Sora set his phone down onto the townhouse banister and reached for his wallet to pull out munny. Elsewhere, Aqua facepalmed in exasperation. Sora was a sweet kid, truly, but his eccentric approach to life is why Lea purchased the accident calendar to go next to the tally marks of how many new friends Sora makes in a week. Sometimes their group makes bets.

Aqua smiled when she heard Sora’s shout of excitement on the other end of the line (and casually overlooked the distressed sound from the ex-pizza man).

----

note: part one of two...?

[lunebinnie]

(1/11)Oh my gosh yesss I'm glad that you like long messages too because I talk way too much 😂 (And yeah about my friend and just hanging out w/ her more that's exactly what I was thinking 😂) It's actually kind of funny bc just yesterday I was hanging out at her house and her younger brother needed to go to Walmart and I was like 'I've been meaning to go to Walmart, I'll take you' and ofc since I have a bluetooth radio adapter the whole drive I had my Spotify going with some quality k-bops, lol

2)And as we were driving I noticed him kind of jamming and I was like 'Oh my god Mickey do you actually like this???' And he was Like 'yeah, these are some good bops 👍' I was shooketh. I had to go home before I had the chance to show him any music videos but he says he's open to watching some with me next time I see him. One way or another I'm going to turn someone in my social circle into a kpop fan you mark my words ☝ and then maybe we can team up and try to work on his sister some more 😂

3)I only started first getting into kpop last June so I'm still very new, but it's definitely super frustrating how so many ppl act like it's an inherently bad or cringey genre of music just bc it's kpop! The stigma is ridiculous! I also started out with BTS (lol) and since they're pretty popular in the US at least I was able to be like 'See, this isn't just a niche thing, lots of people know abt and like this group' but of course my dad still says 'Just cause it's popular doesn't make it good'

4)And I'm like? You're a band teacher, you of all people should understand that music doesn't have to be in your native language (or even have lyrics) in order for you to enjoy it, but go off I guess... It's the same with one of my college friends. They make fun of me for liking kpop but this is coming from some who still treats March 22nd (the day My Chemical Romance broke up) as a day of mourning. Like, no tea no shade no pink lemonade, MCR was a good band nothing wrong with liking them.

5)But like if you're 22 and you still haven't grown out of your emo phase do you really have room to pick on other people for their music taste?  🤷 Anyway that's the person who follows my main that I didn't want to know I had a kpop sb. I think I made it around July. Tbh it was pretty dead for most of 2018. But like I said I've started using it way more since I recently revealed that it exists, lol. Especially since that good good Astro cb 👏💗😩 But honestly Astro is such a blessing

6)Idk how I lived so long w/o them. When I first got into kpop I was planning on just sticking to BTS since the reaction to me being into kpop was so volatile. I was like 'I'm only into one group, ppl already are negative about me liking kpop so I'm just gonna stick to this and not become a full on multifandom fan' and then in Nov I accidentally let myself fall in love with Monsta X and that plan was foiled. And realizing I wasn't gonna be able to stick to just one anymore opened the floodgates

7)And I was like okay in that case, let's just start getting into *all groups* Lol. My story of getting into Astro was actually bc of my best friend's roommate (can you tell I have like one friend and my whole social circle kinda revolves around her? Lol) so this roommate when she heard me being sad about having no kpop friends was like 'oh hey, I'm kinda into kpop' and it turns out she didn't like very many groups and was one of the ppl who blah blah BTS is overrated, which ya know isn't ideal8)But I was just really desperate to have someone to talk about kpop with. And Astro was her favorite so I was like, okay I'll get into them so that I have something to talk about with her! So I started watching some videos and I fell in love with them pretty much instantly! And I was real excited bc #1 now I can talk about kpop with someone! And #2 this group is actually amazing? Bonus! ... And then they got in a big fight about their living conditions and the roommate ended up moving out RIP

9)So that didn't work out, lol (Your story about finding them during that internship sounds amazing though! Haha) But yeah, so this is my first cb too! And although I love them w/ my whole heart and would have loved to have them in my life even sooner what an amazing cb to be your first! The concept was wonderful, the album was excellent, the visuals were to *die* for. They worked so hard and I'm so proud of them and I'm so happy we got to see their work come to fruition and get them a win 🤧🤧

10)The dance practices though? You're so right omg 💗 Me and my Rocky bias *fully* understand 😂 All of them are such good dancers?? I never fail to be impressed. Of course you know who I always end up watching tho 👀 lol (̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶f̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶R̶o̶c̶k̶y̶'̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶t̶w̶o̶r̶k̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶.̶.̶.̶)̶ ̶ I also love how at the end they always pause all dramatic for a minute and then start screaming 😂

11)It's like? Amazing talent *and* dorky personalities? What more could you ask for? Lol. In regard to your last question though Unfortunately I also won't be able to see them 😔 I live in the smack middle of the US and since they're only going to coasts all of the venues are way too far away to get to. Esp since it's the school year and I can't skip class to drive cross country for a concert much as I'd like to (Holy lord I talked over twice as much?? Why am I like this?) Talk again soon! -ASA

Okay SO I’m very sorry I haven’t had the time to answer everything until now bc I’ve been busy studying for midterms and also I was a lil trashy today since my uni closed bc of freezing rain so I slept in but I’m glad that FINALLY everything got sent like damn tumblr you really don’t want us making friends huh. 

Yessssss I love the feeling of seeing someone else also get into the same interests! I’ve been pretty lucky in the sense that I grew up around mostly other asian americans, so kpop was never something that was considered super “weird,” like some people were into it and some weren’t but even if you weren’t you still would’ve been familiar with the more popular groups from when you were younger. Even now, I have a bunch of friends also into kpop (one of them is even my roommate) so tbh I was definitely the one in my friend group late to the party aha. Even my university hosts kpop nights at our bar and I’m pretty sure we have a kpop dance team as well? So tbh if I met someone new there’s probably like a 50% chance they’re into kpop or at least listen casually. 

Tbh I used to be a little bit judgy too but moreso because of the obscene amount of money I’ve seen some of my friends spend (no joke one of my friends has spent probably like $500+ on Loona stuff in the past month and a half and another friend bought like 5 copies of the same album for herself like damn idk how do you have that much money).

I also really don’t like it when people bash other people’s music tastes, since I feel like it’s something so personal? Idk but for a long time I used to be really self conscious about sharing my music with other people and even now I feel like that sometimes. For me after getting into BTS I kind of expected to get really into other groups since I was in Korea anyway and I was already listening to a lot of other artists casually. For me it started with NU’EST (fell for them immediately at the same concert that I saw Astro at) and then after was Astro, and then I just started slowly getting into other groups after that (even though I haven’t totally been able to get into Got7′s music they’re SO funny and I just kinda fell for their personalities  you know). 

I honestly think that they did such a wonderful job with this comeback too! I like seeing their concept evolve and mature but they’re not straying too far from their original cute concept so I feel like it’s a nice middle ground that’s very unique to them, you feel? Also I feel like the visuals especially and the execution of the whole plant concept was just done so well?? Even my friend who’s not in kpop was like “k idk who they are but that was the prettiest music video I’ve ever seen”. What are your favourite eras and songs? For me I’d have to say either the Spring Up or Baby era BUT right now my favourite song is probably Again/Should’ve Held On though tbh my mood and my tastes change like every few weeks loool. 

I have no idea why I tend to be most attracted to the dances rather than vocals or rap (maybe has to do with the fact that it’s something I’ve always wished I could do but have always been bad at lmao). But Astro’s stood out to me for the exact same reason! I just thought it was so funny seeing them all break character at the end because you really get to see how hard their choreos are and you get a glimpse of their personalities like damn, how can you not stan these dummies?

That’s really unfortunate that you won’t get to see them either :/ They’re also coming to the closest city to me but it’s on a Tuesday, but I *hypothetically* looked up flight prices and tried to see if I could get away with just missing a day of classes if I flew back in the middle of the night since I have some friends who did the same thing and drove down to Buffalo but I seem to have underestimated the size of New York State LMAO. But apparently my university’s too far from the airport so it’s “not realistic” (and also I’m hella broke from travelling to Taiwan and Japan while I was in Korea but that’s a minor issue ig). I hope we do both get a chance to see them live though! Who knows, after the success of this comeback I’m expecting a lot more cbs and world tours out of them ;)