#i got depressed and ignored the series after season two because i was waiting to read the manga until anime happened first

[nevermoredragon-main]

Isabella is so pretty y'all please look at her. 😭

Anyone ever just watch tpn season 1 after season 2 and get really mad or upset? My true Roman Empire for real.

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[illumalux]

Life Series Victors as Tarot Cards

A presentation on why we’ve got it all wrong when it comes to grouping life series victors.

This post will continue on with the implication that ZombieCleo is a Victor, simply because she is. She won real life, therefore she's a victor. Argue with the wall.

Now, I see your celestial trio of the first three winners. This should never change. This feels the most apt, it centers perfectly, and each of the things it represents are present in multiple different categories. Obviously in space, as everyone has adapted to, but also in a Minecraft world, and what I see as more important: in a tarot deck.

Think about it this way.

The Watchers, in whatever form you think they (or we) take, are collecting these Victors. Each one means a different thing, survived a different landscape. While I understand the celestial motif of the first three Victors, and how it fits into their characters, I would argue that many others are far too grounded for that.

It’s a collection, remember? What is better for assembling a set than a deck of cards? Especially ones that meddle in Fate, something the Watchers seem to adore.

So here are the cards each Victor represents, with card meaning and my defense as well. This will go in chronological order of the seasons.

Before I continue, I just want to give a disclaimer. Every tarot deck has a slightly different explanation for what each card means. The definitions I use are a mix of three of my decks and the official Rider-Waite-Smith deck's explanation, so if there are inconsistencies with what your deck says or what you know, please don't come for me.

Grian, Third Life:

XIX. The Sun

Beyond the obvious desert motifs (a whole extra post in and of itself), the Sun is representative of not only Grian's gameplay, but also how the Watchers (those collecting this deck) feel about him. Grian is one of them, so he naturally starts out in their good graces, with a greater level of respect.

Rider-Waite-Smith defines the card as one of success. Of course the Watchers will gloat when their baby wins. Even if he wasn't meant to, it did inevitably mean that throughout his game, Grian was inarguably one of the largest sources of negative emotions, second only to the Red Army. Again. Extra post on its own. When he won, it saved anyone the satisfaction that might negate their negativity, alongside the delicious outpouring of grief that was the final duel of Third Life.

Reversed, the Sun is a card of depression. As I just touched on, one of the most defining moments of Grian's game was his final victory. When the ending came down to himself or his greatest ally, he went about it in the way that caused probably the most pain to both parties involved. It pushed him to the very brink, ending in him defining his own ending just moments after winning.

Scott, Last Life:

XVII. The Star

Even ignoring the starborne origins and headcanons, as well as the crown of stars included in his skin (Void below, these posts write themselves) this one looks like a super simple explanation, but actually requires me pointing out something that may not be obvious to some Watchers: Scott, in every game and Iteration has made it a point to rebel against the rules in whatever way he can. I could go into full detail, but thats a lot of words and I don't need anyoen to get bored. (Void, this series and side tangents that require other posts)

In third life, a game about death and destruction, and the originator of factions, Scott took a very different route: he got married and built a house in a flower field. When grief finally found him, he refused to give the Watchers any satisfaction, literally crystalizing his grief into a part of his character design (and one that would remain for two to three more seasons, depending on your thoughts on the coral pieces). In Last Life, he is the singular person in all five seasons (technically two, but shhh this is more dramatic) to withstand the Boogeyman curse, something the Watchers installed purposefully to make people kill allies. Double Life, obviously, as Scott rejecting the soulmate the Watchers gave him. Limited life, in which kills gave more time, Scott did not die a single time without giving life freely, either to an ally or a temporary ally.

That got long. Anyways. Scott's game has always been one of hope, spreading positivity and refusing to be pushed around by the Watchers. And that's exactly what the Star means. Upright, this is a card about hope and perseverence, pushing through challenges, which is exactly what Scott does. He refuses to let the Watchers' actions upset him and continues to play the game for his friends and for the future and nothing else.

Even reversed it still fits. Reversed, the Star means loss or abandonment. I've already used up too much time on Scott here, so I'll let you pick your favorite instance of that.

Pearl, Double Life:

XVIII. The Moon

This one is far and away the easiest. Like the previous two Victors, Pearl's story connected her with her symbol even before she won. But blood moons and wolf packs aside (as that's a whole different post for a whole different day) when you take a look at the definitions provided, it becomes even clearer.

The Moon is a card of transformation and change, as well as revealing one's inner self. Rider-Waite-Smith attributes hidden enemies, darkness, and terror with The Moon. While I'll happily analyze every single one of Pearl's actions as the Scarlet Pearl, I think this one is plenty self explanatory. After her rejection early on in the game, she immediately isolates herself and latches onto the night motifs, leaning in to what everyone expects her to be.

The reversed meanings also explain Pearl's arc in Double Life perfectly: confusion, mixed messages, and disbelief. This perfectly encapsulates Pearl's feelings at the very beginning of the game via her rejection by Scott and subsequent abandonment by Martyn in an attempt to get back into Cleo's good graces. Her instinctual reaction is one of shock, not understanding why Scott would choose to pick a soulmate when she was right in front of him.

Martyn, Limited Life:

XVI. The Tower

One of my favorite cards, the Tower is instantly recognizable. While most of my analyses aren't about how the card looks, I feel like it's important to share this time around. The most common image consists of a tower and one or both of two elements: lightning, and people falling. As a card, it represents sudden change, destruction, and chaos.

If anyone here is not yet convinced that I'm correct, please go rewatch Martyn's last LimLife episode, then come back and argue.

You're back? Great. We agree? No? Fine, I'll explain.

This fixates mainly on his winning game, but I'll touch on the rest of his games as well. LimLife ended with a huge betrayal on Martyn's part, one characterized by being so insanely sudden. (Of course it's the Watchers meddling. But the Tower isn't always about your own choices being your downfall.) He quite literally snapped as if hit by lightning (see description of the card), and this spells the beginning of the end for him.

Similarly, in all of his other games, Martyn finds himself with one pivotal moment that spells his downfall. The Red King, Betrayal at the Southlands (and honestly his worst move in DL was abandoning Pearl to try and beg for Cleo's forgiveness).

Funny enough, the reversed meaning of this card is almost a perfect match. I don't think this needs too much more explaining.

Scar, Secret Life:

X. The Wheel of Fortune

I adore Scar in these games. Every single season seems absolutely plagued by chaos. The worst season, obviously, was the one in which he gained his crown. Poor guy was just trying to make friends, and it seemed like every new secret was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

The Wheel is just what it sounds like: it's the card of luck, destiny, and fate. I won't add a new paragraph for the reversed meaning here either, as it means the exact same thing as upright, but with negative connotations in the form of bad luck and misfortune.

Scar is plagued by the whims of luck left and right. It seems like, more than any other player, Scar is unable (whether by others, fate, Watchers, what have you) to take full control of his own story and take actions that he wants to take, instead limited to where the current takes him.

But in the end, that chaos is what gives him his win. The lack of alliances and freedom that the game forced on him was what eventually lead him to be unmoored and able to volley his pain wherever he wanted, leading to a mostly painless win.

Cleo, Real Life:

XIII. Death

A little on the nose, I know, but which of these choices aren't? For a series entirely based on improv, there are a stupid amount of coincidences present.

Now, I know this is far and away the shortest series, so I'm going to analyse Cleo as a player across all of her seasons, not just her winning game. Sorry Real Life. You should have been longer.

While the meaning of the Death card may seem obvious, it's twofold in actuality. In some historical decks, even, the card is instead named Rebirth. I know how ironic that is that the zombie is the one who stands for death and rebirth, but again. Blame the stupid narrative, not the poor me trying to make sense of it.

In what my lovely mutual Honor called "phoenix behavior", I'm going to focus specifically on her deaths and rebirths, specifically BigB's betrayal in LastLife. Cleo takes her death hard, as anyone might. But her rebirth comes with change. The minute she respawns, it's with a different understanding of the world around her. She immediately embraces the change that has been given to her, burning down the Fairy Fort and ditching her alliance for a new one.

The reverse captures Cleo as a character over her seasons better than anyone on this list. While the upright meaning of the card is change, reversed it signifies stagnancy, obsession, and immobility. This can be seen almost perfectly with her thoughts on alliances. Scott remains forever in her good books, even over the course fo multiple seasons, simply because he has never wronged her. Even when they aren't direct allies,she still cooperates with him whenever, simply because she retains her previous feelings about him. The same can be said for BigB, but in the opposite direction. From the moment of the betrayal onwards, she refuses to trust him, going so far as to warn Pearl away from allying with him in LimLife.

Bonus: Jimmy Solidarity, the Canary

XII. The Hanged Man

But Moon! you shout, throwing your complimentary bucket of popcorn at me. Jimmy isn't a Victor! He's the exact opposite!

Yep.

That's why he's so soggy and why he goes on this list. You wanna argue that he doesn't have the same lore impact as a Victor? Too bad. Can't hear you. Jimmy gets his own card.

Initially, I was kinda sad that I already used the Tower, because that's the portent of doom and gloom or whatever, perfect for a canary. But then I spied an even better, even more Jimmy card.

The Hanged Man is the card of sacrifice. While I could go on a whole rant about the Fool's journey and how it is represented in the Life Series, that is Extra Tumblr Post Number IDK Anymore. Instead, today I'm going to stick to the basics. To specify sacrifice, the card doesn't just mean giving up. It signifies self sacrifice specifically. And what is Jimmy if not a semi-willing first sacrifice to get the chaos rolling?

How many times has he gone out to stop his friends from being the one who has to herald the change? The canary knows that he will sing the final notes, but so long as he can ensure the miners don't have to, he will descend once more.

Conclusion:

Now. Did I spend more time on this post than I ever did on an English Lit essay? Maybe. But as much as I love the space motifs this fandom has, I fundamentally disagree when we get to the latter winners. Come on, guys. Tarot decks are right here.

If I missed anything, or I misrepresented a player's game, please tell me. I can't be everywhere at once, and I'm always happy to learn more about some of the players I don't watch as regularly.

Anyways, this was way more fun to write than I expected. If anyone wants to see me give cards to the rest of the players who have yet to win, or an analysis of anything a mentioned in my tangents, please let me know.

Special thanks to @honorsongs who kept me company through this whole process and gave me many a suggestion when I lost my train of thought.

[bestruction]

How it’d be to watch animes with them

A/N: While i’m working on my Mikasa x reader royal au, this little idea came to my mind. I tried to put the links when i mentioned a specific scene and speak a little about the anime in case you don’t know it.  So here it’s: 

Warnings: Me exposing my otaku self, mentions of 18+ animes (Not hentais) 

Eren -  Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai: Tensai-tachi no Renai Zunousen (13+)

A / N: The main characters like each other, but none wants to confess because being the person who takes the first step would also represent being the defeated person. The anime develops in a series of plans that both elaborate to make the other confess their love.

Warnings: None

It was his idea to watch an anime together since the two of you liked it a lot. You saw no harm and agreed to go to sleep with your boyfriend on Friday night. So, you would have the dawn and the weekend to see everything.

“We could watch One piece! Everybody likes"

“In three days ?! We will not finish even if we do not take breaks ”

"Naruto then?"

“Haven't you seen it all five times or more?

"But it is a classic!"

"It is also too long!"

He would sulk when he saw you reject each of his suggestions for being too big animes. The truth was, he was trying to convince you to stay longer. After much searching in the catalog, you choose to watch a short comedy of 12 episodes.

Biggest mistake ever

Eren is already annoying by nature, and after watching Kaguya-sama's two seasons he would spend the day and night trying to get you to confess to him EVEN IF YOU'VE BEEN IN LOVE FOR TWO YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THE FIRST TO DECLARE. HIT HIM, PLEASE.

"Do you think that using such a low trick will make me give in?"

“Eren, I just got out of the shower. What trick? Wear an outfit? ”

“Showing off your skin won't make you win”

If you wanted to play with him, great. You are going to spend the day in this little game until he gets tired and just hugs you or something because he can't spend a lot of time without touching you. But if you didn't want to, just you could use that touchy side of him against him too.

"Maybe I shouldn't show you anything else then"

"Yes, of course, do- Wait what?"

"You heard"

“NO, BABE! YOU WON! I CONFESS! I LOVE YOU"

Watching anime with him would be quite an experience. For being very verbal, Eren would be the type of person who doesn't shut up watching anything. Especially, something that makes him laugh. You would see him laughing out loud and throwing himself back on the couch or on you, whether you were with him or not. You may even complain, but it would be fun to see him react to everything as immediately and naturally as an unfiltered child.

He will sing ALL the openings for the rest of the days around the house until you are humming some without realizing it.

For some reason, can I imagine him doing Chika dance ?? Yes, please film this big bear dancing like a little girl.

Levi - Death parade 

A / N: Do you want to cry and hurt yourself? This is the right place. Death Parade is a story about what happens after death. The characters are sent to mysterious bars where they will be judged to decide the fate of the souls themselves. (18+)

Warnings: Suicide, depressive themes, mentions of rape and domestic violence

I don't see Levi watching many animes. In fact, I don't see him watching much anything at all. He would be the type of person who can't spend a lot of time in front of the television without feeling like he's wasting time. Which would result in a very selective and demanding taste.

He would always read the reviews about the film, and after watching it, he would make his own. Ever. No exceptions. Unlike Impossible-to-be-quiet-Eren, Levi would be silent to be able to capture and understand all the details. This is interesting because getting his attention is a difficult task. But once it's done, he is 100% focused on the story and immersed in the characters.

So, after reading about it, he would agree to watch Death Parade with you.

He would have low expectations at first, and if the anime failed to hold his very difficult attention in three episodes, he wouldn't even try with the rest.

So when in the first episode, all suspense and doubts left to the viewer entered Ackerman's head, he would finish the other 11 without realizing it.

As a rational person, he would love things that make him think and reflect on the proposed theme. In the case: Life and death.

For some reason, I imagine him as someone who would like to study and read philosophy as a hobby and that he would love Nietzsche? So, you could expect deep conversations after each episode.

But without any arrogance, humanity's strongest soldier might not be the most talkative man in humanity, but surely when he opened his mouth to it, it wouldn’t be to show himself off with something that he knows and you don’t. On the contrary, he would be more than happy to explain if you asked and added your opinion.

He wouldn't cry, but he would be touched by the way the emotions were shown and created in the characters.

He would probably see the scene where Decim cries more than once for being impressed with how the pain of a character who is supposedly not flesh and blood is expressed so well.

And after the anime is over, you would always see him listening to the music of the ice skating scene around the house while doing something.

When you were finished watching everything, you would talk again about the anime. You lying on his chest and he touching his hair, smelling him.

"Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?"

“If so, I wouldn't go back to this shit a second time. No matter what they offered me ”

"Levi!"

"Unless it was to have you again"

“What a cliché” He would roll his eyes after hearing your response “But I like clichés”

Again, he wouldn't cry, but he would be thinking about how ephemeral things can be, including being alive. Then you can expect a more touchy Levi for a few days.

Jean - Banana Fish 

N / A: Another one to cry and get hurt. Banana Fish is way more than just a story about one character just is hard to define. So in case, you didn’t watch it, here’s the trailer. (18+)

warnings: pedophilia, rape, violence, drugs, your heart being destroyed

You know that guy who says that no yaoi is good, it's just a way to feed a bunch of fujoshi and stuff like that? Jean. It's him. I just know it. So when you suggested Banana Fish and said it was a BL / yaoi, he would probably laugh and ignore the idea.

But after insisting a little and showing him the many compliments that both the anime and the manga received, he would accept.

At first, he wouldn't pay much attention. He really thought it would be just another bad anime. But by the end of the first episode, he would be too involved in the story to stop.

I think he would love crime novels for the same reason that Levi: To think. Try to find out how things are going to end and pick up any clues that the author has left about the ending. So the plot would hold him so much because he would make a ton of theories about the end.

He will ship Ash and Eiji with all his soul. I mean, how can he not ship? To see an anime in which the physical touch between the couple doesn't really happen and still builds a well-developed and healthy relationship would be a new experience for him.

Jean is somewhat similar to Eren in this respect. So you can expect to see him huffing in anger, cursing one of the characters, throwing a pillow away, or using it to hide a tear or two that he would let go of you. The kind of person who gets emotionally involved with the things he watches.

He would cry an entire river after watching the last episode and deny it later.

“I was not crying. The cushion fabric made my eyes itch a lot ”

Show him again and he will cry the same amount and intensity

Armin - Haikyuu

A / N: Considering all the texts on Tumblr for haikyuu characters, I’m pretty sure you know what anime it’s lol (10+)

Armin is an otaku with a license card and no one can change my mind. He would probably start watching it as a child. So, his first animes would be everyone's classics: Naruto, Dragon Ball Z, Bleach, etc.

So it would be normal that as the vast majority, he would continue to have a preference for shounen when he grew up. So it would be your idea to see Haikyuu.

He would have low expectations because he thought it would be just another anime with cute characters for everyone to be thirsty as an inverted harem. And also because the synopsis does not create a strong impression, especially for those who consume shounen daily.

"So we are just gonna see a little boy trying to catch a ball?"

“It's gonna be good! Everyone is talking about it now ”

"Does he have some superpower?"

"No"

"Something scary?"

"Armin, just give a chance!"

He would like it. Did I say he would like it? Because he would love it. The atmosphere created and well developed with such a simple plot would hold his attention well. (Is it possible to dislike Hinata in the first episode?)

It would be a great anime for him to watch because 1. It is different from what he usually sees. Unlike shounen, Haikyuu deals only with real and tangible scenarios. Of course, still with that touch of anime, but it is very easy to recognize yourself in the characters and learn from them and therefore reflect on yourself as well.

It would be great to make him think about his own insecurities and how most of them were inside his head.

He would be so immersed in the anime universe that he would have to pause the game scenes because he would be too nervous waiting for the ball to fall.

You will probably see him taking a deep breath in each drawing scene of the characters and see him truly cheering for the team as if it were a real national game.

More than that, you will see his eyes full of tears when Yamaguchi hit the serve in the match against Aoba johsai.

In fact, Yamaguchi would be his favorite character. No discussions.

"I said it would be good"

"Shut up"

"Make me"

Mikasa - Heaven’s official blessing 

A / N: I'm going to leave the trailer here because I don't know how to define it very well. It's a novel, but the story doesn't focus ONLY on that. (14+)

Okay, you didn't suggest. She did not suggest. So how do you end up watching together? You catch her watching when you come home by surprise lol

Until then, you would know that she watched some anime, but nothing romantic. Never. In fact, that was her little secret.

Although common sense is that Mikasa would be cold even in a modern au (and I agree in parts). I think she would be the type of person who loves to see the sweetest and softest things to melt alone on the couch without anyone seeing. A moment for herself and a part of her that she would not show to anyone.

You would already know about her romantic side, but seeing her under the covers sighing while watching the Netflix special episode is a totally different story.

Please don’t mock her!!. She would be red enough by the time she was discovered.

When she was less shy, she would ask if you want to watch with her. She would say she saw no problem watching it with you again since doing it with you would be a different experience.

If you accept, you would spend the rest of the night in the room sharing a blanket and absorbing the soft atmosphere, the soundtrack, and the Chinese culture so present in history.

She would not speak a lot because she was paying attention, but she would hug you all the time. In the romantic scenes, she would tighten her arms around you a little and sometimes left a kiss on your shoulder.

I think she could relate to Hua Cheng's way of loving. He is always there to protect, care for and see his lover even if sometimes Xie Lian doesn't even know.

And that is what she wants to show you, that more than a girlfriend, she is also someone you can count on.

Days later, you will see her reading the rest of the work around the house because she couldn't stand to wait for a second season.

And later, SURELY melting and vibrating while watching Mo Dao Zu Shi.

[ackermanshoe]

March comes in like a lion, it's Portrayal of toxic & healthy relationship and how to compares rivamika + Ereh

Que the longest title everr 😌✨

So before I start on the actual analysis, I recently started watching March comes in like a lion instead of doing my assignments and I half way through season 2. For those of you who haven't watched it, it might be a spoilers so beware of that.

In this analysis I'll be comparing the similarities I found between Rei, Hina and Kyoko.

So watching any anime after being do emotionally attached to rivamika it's only natural that I compare them to the characters with even the tiniest bit similarities in their dynamic but Rei and hina's relationship jump in episode 4 of season 2 really caught me off guard and I was like omg?? Rivamika?? How do I make this about them 😩

Anyway so a little background on Rei's relationship with both girls Kyoko and Hina ( Hinata ). Firstly, i subconsciously placed Rei has Mikasa, kyoko has Eren and Hina as Levi, why? You will know on a minute. Rei is a depressed kid who has known only one way of life and that's through shogi games and after his parents death ( cough cough ) he was taken in by a old friend ( I think ) of his dad's who was also obsessed with shogi. Kyoko is the biological daughter of this man who has "adopted" Rei and later on Rei was came to know Hina and her sisters, they were super supportive of him from the start and having lost family members themselves they related to him on a personal level.

So you see why Eren and mikasa's dynamic matches with Rei and Kyoko and not only as "step siblings" it's also the fact that Rei became somewhat obsessed with her through the time he had spent over at their house, it's toxic and it's been showcased that way ever since kyoko was introduced into the series. Rei thought of her when he heard the word "love" and he even admitted to the fact that having her around is toxic and yet he can't push her away. He said he does not want to stop hearing her voice even tho she , herself is in love with a much older man who is married. Everytime she showed up to his bedroom uninvited and slept next to him my mind went "he is in love with her and their relationship is so toxic why does the author keep bringing her into his life?" Or "girl get the fuck away from him".

Without even thinking too much deep into their physical connection I already knew I would be able to related this dynamic to Eren and Mikasa. Although this series gives us much more depth into the main characters views since it's narrated from his own perspective, and the fact that he metaphorically compared his feelings of being lost and sadness helps me as an audience to understand what's happening much much easier than attack on titan. I personally feel like this kind of series are usually short ( idk how long this is) because it feels like the author knows exactly what he is going for, everything is set in stone.

Going back to Rei's ( mikasa's) relationship with kyoko ( Eren ) it's much much clear how toxic it had become for him in more than just one way. And the show isn't denying Rei of his feelings towards Kyoko and it's not even attempting to distant him from her and yet you just knew there had to be someone better right? That's when they introduced Hina and Kyoko in the same episode, meeting each other and a sense of invisible rivalry gushed over them, especially Hina. She is a happy go lucky girl and extremely sensitive to things to the point it kinda annoys me everytime she bursts out crying ( but hey you can't hate a genuinely good character ).

That's where things get interesting for me maybe because I am on that Levi X Mikasa agenda all the time but just like rivamika their relationship has been portrayed as platonic for the longest time in the seaosns. If I didn't go out of way to search up who Rei falls in love with and it didn't say hina's name I probably wouldn't be making this comparison right now because who wants to have their heart broken for the 2nd time in the same fucking month 🙄.

Anyway so in this one episode Hina comes home crying because of bullying issue at school and as she runs off into the dark streets Rei chases her and eventually catching up to her takes her hand and being able to relate to her problems, comparing his younger self to her present Rei reaches out his hand and God fucking damn it he says "you saved my life..I promise I'll stay with you" ofc I'm making this post now you know the real reason 🤡.

The unseen build up that happen between them reminds me of rivamika, the Portrayal of healthy relationship is rivamika. Hina (in our case Levi ) to Rei is the voice of emotion, she speaks out the feelings that Rei has been surpassing all these years inside of him. Just like how we talked about Levi is the voice of reason, while Mikasa has the impulsive urge to act up. Just like how Levi became the perosn who reasonably always took mikasa's side, he gave her personal reasons to take Erens side everytime have an actual meaning towards the scouts / everyone , he then became someone Mikasa was able to object & voice out her opinion towards because she knew that he would response and guide her the right way and finally he became someone she was able to fully trust.

Much like Hina and Rei, when Hina cried out her heart and Rei couldn't help but go back to his past self and imagine Hina coming to him and giving him a hand, being his saviour. It's much like how Levi saw his past self in Mikasa present ( S1 ), Levi gave Mikasa the hand she needed when she didn't know she needed.

Hina despite being much younger than him, was able to make him realise that he too was shutting out his emotions and was able to let himself be free through Hina when she cried, expressing her frustrations and very human like emotions. In the forest of the giant trees when Mikasa and Levi saved Eren for the first time he told her " we got your precious friend, didn't we?" A slight wake up call he had given her for the very first time, an attack on Mikasa's ego and evoking a different emotions within her. Like telling her it's not only about Eren and getting revenge, risking your life so easily, Levi had lost his entire squad in order to protect Eren so now that he is safe they better leave now.

So the question is did Levi and Mikasa save each other?

What can I say that I haven't said already in here about these two?

"you saved my life" Rei says to Hina as he reached out her hand and the beauty of that scene was the fact that it was delicate and soft despite it not being anything romantic. Remind me of that panel of Mikasa touching Levi's shoulder. How ironic is the fact that I'm comparing Hina, a openly emotional character to Levi who is said to be the most emotional inside?

Levi physically saved Mikasa a lot of the time however emotionally Levi saved Mikasa from being selfish and from herself. What if I said and ignoring 139, that Levi was one of of the biggest reasons Mikasa took the initiative and decapitated Eren that day?

Wait why does it feel like I already said it before lol

Through Levi, Mikasa learnt to trust more, learnt that even though they gave difference not only in height, age and in how they treat Eren ( Levi with force and Mikasa with care ), Mikasa still came in terms with Levi and relied on him, shared her burden with him. I think that's the biggest character twist Mikasa had, the fact that she was ready to draw sword at anyone who treated Eren wrong and everyone was scared of her and then came the grumpy shorty who beat her beloved brother right in front of her but eventually he became the biggest form of support she had in the end. I just can not help but laugh at all the unseen development this ship has had and all the implication of Futher interaction after season 3 between them, it's really obvious they had something going on because imagine you don't talk to someone for like 3 years and suddenly when you engage in battle against , paired up with them suddenly you become the strongest duo known to humanity. +?)!#)# make it make sense.

Sooo now you see the that having toxic relationship with a partner is only natural and inevitable but growing from that, opening your eyes to those who actually care there for you is rather healthy. So moral of the story is guys make sure stick with those who tells you to stay with them, the end.

Omg guys this turned out so much longer than I intended, anyway hopefully y'all liked it. I know it's not the strongest comparison or analysis but I feel like I'm running out of words for what I want to say about rivamika it feels like I'm recycling my sentences from previous analysis over and over again because ✨ lack of content ✨ and my inability to think of something new.

Please ignore all my spelling mistakes I have decided to embrace my mistakes instead of fixing them simply because I'm too lazy 😉

💜💜💜

[lunarliza]

Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 4: Kook Conventions

JJ x Kook!reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter| chapter one

my masterlist

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

note: slight mention of panic attack

If there was anything you learned about JJ that Friday, it was that he was the absolute worse at sticking to the plan.

For one, he spent so much time looking for the tennis courts, instead of following your clearly written out instructions, that he ended up being late altogether to pick you up. What was supposed to be a grand gesture turned into you sitting on the front steps, while the sun was near done setting, waiting for stupid JJ while everyone else had already left.

“What the hell took you so long?!” you scolded, slamming the truck door shut in annoyance once he finally showed up.

“This place is confusing as hell! I kept having to make loops. It is called Figure Eight for a reason,” he tried to justify, pulling out of the lot.

“JJ I texted you specific instructions on how to get here!” you groused, rubbing your temple, “Anyways, it’s fine, whatever. Let’s just hurry home so I can get ready. My house is just a little bit up that way.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” JJ mentioned sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road, “I kinda have to help Pope and Poppa Heyward with something right now. It will only take an hour tops! I’ll just meet you at the party after I’m done.”

You groaned loudly, face-palming yourself. “JJ what the hell! I told you specifically to cancel your plans tonight. It was supposed to be our debut!”

“I did! I just,” he scratched the back of his neck, “kinda broke one of their carts this afternoon, so I have to help them fix it for tomorrow. I think they’re catering your little brunch thingy.”

“How did you even break the cart to begin with?!”

He hid his face from your dagger-eyes and admitted in a low voice, “I, uh, tried to surf on it down a hill when they weren’t looking.”

You had to fight the urge to smack him upside the head, but you didn’t want to risk him veering off the road. Lucky bastard.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “Just make sure you’re on time to the party.” You then eyed his outfit up and down. Even in the little sunlight that emitted from outside, you could tell it was all dirty from his day activities. “And please change into something a little nicer,” you added, “These Kooks would run you to the ground with that on.”

JJ dropped you off at your house and sped away as you unlocked the door into a near empty house. Looks like it would just be you and Alfred for dinner.

Your parents were headed off to the mainland for some business convention. Thankfully, your presence was not needed which saved you an entire day of pretending to be a perfect obedient daughter. It was an exhausting act.

Most teens your age would kill for a night alone, but after countless nights sleeping isolated in a big empty house, it got old and depressing. Most of the time, you’d sleep over at Sarah’s for some kind of company. You were always welcomed at the Camerons’.

Greeting Alfred your usual hello at the foyer, you darted upstairs to wash off and get ready with the little time you had left. The aroma of filet mignon and freshly seasoned veggies filled the house air.

“Oh and Alfred,” you called out over the intricate metal banister, “It’ll just be me eating tonight, so just set the table for one please.”

“Miss Y/n, your friend is not coming?” he asked with hints of concern. You just shook your head with a sad smile. “No, he had to run last minute.”

Alfred gave you a curt nod, making way back into the kitchen while you dashed into the bathroom.

—————————————————

Instead of throwing JJ straight into the shark’s tank (even though, given his already poor track record, you strongly contemplated throwing him to literal sharks), you decided it was best to ease him into the whole boyfriend role.

You figured he’d be more in touch with his aura if you invited him to a Kook party first— which was exactly where you were, furiously texting him where on earth he was.

It was already ten o’clock. The party started hours ago, and he was nowhere to be found. An hour with Pope your ass!

Flopping onto the giant living room couch in Billy Irvine’s mansion, you frowned amongst the throng of drunk privileged kids. Around you, the Glossy Posse was gossiping with other Kooks about some of the summer newcomers while sleazy guys from out of town tried to grab their attention. It never worked.

“So y/n,” Chloe asked next to you on the couch, “I have some great news! It’s no secret that you need a date to the all the fundraiser events, and I might just have one for you! My cousin, Gerald, is coming into town next week, so I can totally set you guys up!”

She proceeded to show you pictures on her phone of a lanky tall guy with discolored hair and a creepy smile. You resorted to taking a gulp of your drink to hide your horrified expression. “Thanks, but, uh, no thanks. I actually have a date already,” you informed, typing away heatedly at your phone for JJ to arrive that instant or so help you.

“Ooh, who is it?” Ivy nosily chimed in at the mention of you finally having a date. From the couch over, you also saw Anne-Marie and Warren lean their heads closer to get the scoop.

Jeez, were people really that interested in your love life?

“It’s-”

Before you could reveal the name, a loud ‘ding’ went off from your phone followed by a text from JJ to alert you that he was out front. “Oh! He’s actually here right now,” you announced, hopping up from your seat to collect your very problematic date.

“You’re late, again!” you scolded to the blond standing all gloomy at the front of the stone curved driveway. He changed into a nicer grey long-sleeve with khaki shorts and his signature red snapback, much to your relief. It didn’t quite match with your intricate white romper, but it would do for the time being.

“The guard wouldn’t let me in the gate! I ended up having to sneak through one of the fences,” JJ explained. You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous excuse. “Then why didn’t you just call me to let you in?” you pointed out.

“It was more fun this way,” he peskily grinned, earning himself a smack on the arm. The guy was impossible. “Ow!” he whined, rubbing the spot. Ignoring his complaints, you seized his hand and led him inside. It was about time!

The foyer flashed with various-colored LED lights while thundering rap music echoed from basically every corner of the house. All around, eyes gawked at you stepping through the Victorian-style entryway with a Pogue of all people. It was like walking into a cave of bats.

“Anyways,” you began, disregarding all the probing eyes, “This is Billy Irvine’s place. It’s the nicest house on the Eight. His parents are out of town right now, so we’re celebrating the Glossy Posse’s birthdays.”

It alway was a coincidence to you how all three of them had birthdays on back-to-back days. Witchcraft, honestly.

“Those bitches?” JJ grimaced at the mention of his sworn female enemies, “Ew why? They hate the Pogues.”

“Just shut up and suck it up. Here,” you grabbed a glass from the champagne tower in the middle of the spacious room, “Have a drink to get your mind off it.”

“Champagne? What the hell is this, England?” he yelped, taking a swig. Rolling your eyes, you hoped the alcohol would alleviate his irritability for the night. Fortunately, the blaring music was enough to drown out his constant bickering.

“Now put your arm around me! It’s time to make our rounds,” you demanded. He obliged and you turned on your best lovestruck game-face, giving him the grand tour of the mansion.

Billy’s mom was also one of the important people of the Island Club, so you had been going over there ever since you were nine being that your moms were friends. Still, you were always amazed by the extravagance of their house. You could tell JJ was also in shock of it all too.

It looked like a castle with two grand marble staircases circling the front with a tall vintage Tiffany chandelier hanging over everything. The floors were the shiniest white marble even with hundreds of teenagers recklessly dancing and slipping all over it.

“Damn, so this is how the other side lives,” JJ commented, marveling at how the LED lights reflected off the diamonds on the chandelier.

He slid his hand down to your waist as you stood closer to his side, taking a whiff of his teakwood cologne. Deep down, it was nice to have someone to attend parties with you, even if it was fake and with JJ.

You took him up the right staircase where plastered kids— some you recognized from school, some just in town for the summer— stumbled up and down the stairs or sloppily made out while pinned to the side walls. Realistically, it didn’t seem that off-brand to JJ’s party scene.

“We’re only staying an hour right?” JJ reminded in your ear as you approached the open bar upstairs. Yes, the Irvine’s had a literal bar in their second level.

“Yes, grumpy!”  

“Do you know if Sarah and John B are coming?” JJ continued to question. You settled on top of a retro bar stool as he leaned against the Irvine’s prized rustic bar.

“No,” you answered, “Sarah doesn’t come to these because Topper’s here. And she hates Kooks.”

“She’s the smarter one of you two!” JJ shouted among the loud music. You shook your head and whacked him again, but lightly this time. Seemed that would be you guy’s thing— hitting.

Even in their inebriated states, Kooks were still staring at you like you had grown a third arm. Which, honestly, was what being with JJ felt like half the time. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the Glossy Posse and Warren making their way to you with either wide or curious eyes.

Oh boy.

“Y/n!” they exclaimed, shoving through the crowd. You matched their seemingly gleeful expressions, though you knew deep down they were judging you hard.

“You must be y/n’s date,” Ivy stated without much of a formal introduction.

“Aren’t you that Pogue from the Boneyard that always tries to hit on us?” Chloe brought up once she got a better look at JJ’s face. You snorted, but no one heard you.

You were slightly worried JJ would take their snarky comments the wrong way and lash back, but his cocky grin still laid proudly on his face as he held his hand out to your girl friends. “Name’s JJ. And yeah, I’m y/n’s new man.”

New man. Well, that was certainly a title. All of the Glossy Posse’s threaded eyebrows shot up at the word.

“Y/n,” Anne-Marie said in amazement, “You didn’t tell us you were dating again.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to keep it kinda lowkey,” you lied, signaling JJ to put his arm around you again.

Expecting your friends to stick up their nose at him or give you guys condemnatory looks, you were surprised to find they were more stunned than snobby. Intrigued, you caught them eyeing JJ up and down as if he possessed some kind of magical charm.

From behind the group, you saw Warren trying to stick his hand out at JJ to introduce himself as the girls did kinda take center stage earlier, shielding him out. “Don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Warren, Warren Van Doren.”

JJ had to hold back a laugh at the sound of his rhyming name. So immature.

“Hey man, I’m JJ. Nice to meet you,” he greeted, shaking his hand, “Wait a sec, aren’t you that quarterback that got in that fight at regionals last year?”

Warren smiled sheepishly and looked away. “Yeah, that was me.”

You remembered that fight. The video of it actually went viral for like a week. Warren was a very nice guy, but pissed of, he was an animal. He pummeled the shit out of some of other players during that game. The topic of fighting seemed to bond the two boys as they unknowingly drifted away in their own conversation. Thank God, you were glad that at least one of the boys there would be friendly towards JJ.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Chloe announced, gesturing towards the stairway. All four of your heads turned to see Max and Anya parade up to the top step linked to one another.

That was the cue.

Furtively, you nudged at JJ’s side, interrupting his football conversation. You gave him an alerting look that said ‘look like you’re in love with me ASAP’ and he quickly enveloped his arm around you to pull you close.

Given the fact that you and JJ hardly knew each other, much less touched, it was a very ungraceful and awkward gesture. Even Warren shot you both a weird look. Either way, you figured it would be perfected after going at it a few times.

Just as the Hollywood couple sauntered in to the packed bar area, JJ dipped his face closer to yours. It was a nice touch to the act. He started whispering some stupid joke in your ear that you could hardly make out among the music and chatter, but you went along with it anyway, playfully slapping at his chest. He even placed his snapback on your head backwards. You almost yelled at him for ruining your hair, but for the sake of the show you were putting on, you pretended it was the cutest thing.

You tried not to look at Max as he passed, as you didn’t want to make things so obvious. But in the split second you did glance his way, his mouth flew agape. In that moment, you knew you had him right in the palm of your hand from twenty feet away. The evil laugh cackled inside your head while you raked your hands through JJ’s hair. It was surprisingly soft.

For the next few minutes, you could feel Max’s stare bore into you back as you leaned closer to JJ, kissing up his jawline and cheek. 

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you felt like this about me,” JJ teased.

“Shut up. I’m giving them a show,” you hissed with an infatuated smile to mask your threats.

“They’re gone now,” JJ noted lowly in your ear. You both detached like repelling magnets.

Fortunately, the posse and Warren dispersed among the crowd while you and JJ acted out your little PDA scene— it was probably from discomfort, if you were being honest. You did make sure not to hold anything back while you were draped all over JJ.

“Is that it?” JJ droned, back to his normal whiny self, “Am I done? Can we leave?”

Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, but with a grin this time. “Yes, you idiot, we can leave now.”

“Finally!”

JJ’s hand crept to your lower back as you both weaved through the mass of people to the exit. Before you could make it halfway down the staircase, however, you heard a rumbling behind you that stopped both your tracks. Warren’s six-four gigantic self was rummaging down the stairs, leaving booms in his wake.

“JJ! JJ!” he called out, grabbing hold of your fake boyfriend’s arm, “JJ dude, you gotta check out this new game system Billy has upstairs in the game room. You can play live Madden!”

“What?!” JJ’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas as Warren tugged you both back up the stairs with his giant football-player muscles.

“Dude it’s fucking sick! You gotta try it out,” Warren kept insisting. You knew JJ wouldn’t be able to resist. His eyes were practically glowing with excitement when he turned back to you as if to ask for some kind of approval.

“Okay, I’m just going to stay for one game,” he swore but you were a hundred-and-ten percent sure he’d be hooked and you could stay for much longer.

“Knock yourself out, Maybank,” you responded with a knowing smile, shooing him off to some depth of the Irvine’s enormous home. When he disappeared, you took the liberty to go search for your friends and finally enjoy the party for yourself.

As you predicted, one game turned into thirty real quick. It was well past midnight and JJ was still buried away somewhere doing who knows what. You didn’t mind. Warren was very responsible and you trusted him to take care of your date.

Plus, it gave you enough time to take rounds of various colored jello shots with Billy, dance on Mrs. Irvine’s countertops with the birthday girls, and devour the four-tiered tiramisu cake with fake-puking Barbie doll toppers that you helped pick out at the bakery.

When it got around one thirty, you grew a little concerned about JJ’s whereabouts so you sent him a quick text just to make sure he was okay and not shoving his head down a toilet. Your phone chimed back instantly—

Im jus fine y/n!!! One mor game! I almos beat War Ins Ass! Fuckin kwarter back!

Oh yeah, he was definitely gone. You texted your family’s driver to come by in about thirty minutes to make sure he’d get home safely. Then, you proceeded to dig in to your third slice of cake. Unlike the rest of your friends, you embraced the joy that was carbs— especially when you were drunk and there was chocolate involved.

JJ came downstairs a few minutes later and found where you were sitting on the couch surrounded by your circle of friends. Even amid the dark yet colorful beaming lights, his hair was still its usual sweaty mess with eyes a tad droopy, indicating just how drunk he was.

“Y/n! There’s my baby!”

He walked up and collapsed right onto your lap, tossing a dangly arm around you. You kept his snapback on for the entire night, assuming your hair was probably a bird’s nest underneath it. Everyone around seemed amused at the sight, and a few girls from school even began asking how you two started dating.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Well, that was until your thigh circulation began ceasing due to JJ’s bony ass on it. You immediately demanded that you switch places with him, and he sloppily obliged. The throng around you giggled, intrigued by the new lovey-dovey couple. Secretly, you ate up the attention and knew JJ did too.

He was in the middle of telling everyone a dumb Boneyard party story when Max and Anya entered the living room premises. They looked like they were fixing to leave. Your date felt you tense a little in his lap and caught on to your sudden judder.

Boldly, JJ made direct eye contact with Max and threw him one of those ‘what’s up’ nods. Then, out of nowhere, in his completely trashed state, JJ cupped both of your cheeks and planted a very brazen kiss on your lips for everyone to see. Shutting your eyes, you heard a few whistles from the crowd around you, especially when he, very obviously, added his tongue to the mix.

JJ was a good kisser, you had to admit. It quite literally, took your breath away when he pulled back. Biting your lip, you mimicked his shit-eating grin while he pressed his perspiration-filled forehead on yours. It was a huge acne-hazard just waiting to happen. But, like the snapback, you didn’t care. It was the most thrilling thing you had done in months.

“Don’t look now, but Vega and his girl have their jaws dropped to the floor behind you,” he muttered in your ear. You giggled and held onto him closer, leaning your head on his chest.

It was probably be best fifteen hundred bucks you had ever spent.

—————————————————

The next morning was your mom’s weekly Saturday brunch. By default, you showed up an hour early to help greet the guests, frequently checking your watch and phone to see when JJ would arrive.

You had a tennis tournament earlier that morning, however, you didn’t even bother making your fake boyfriend go. After the events of last night, you knew he’d be too hungover in the morning and wouldn’t wake up in time for it. He was getting to be very predictable.

At t-minus five minutes until the brunch started, everyone had already made their way into the ballroom. That left just you waiting in the lobby area for your date. The look on your face was just about ready to kill JJ whenever he walked through the door. You also didn’t see Sarah and John B arrive either, so you assumed they would be a no-show yet again.

About a minute past noon, the blond sauntered past the doors wearing a black suit that looked two sizes to big for him with hideous shoulder pads. You presumed it was his dad’s old one. He also had on jet black sunglasses to mask the grogginess from the party, but it was pretty evident he looked and felt like shit.

“You’re late again!” you hissed through gritted teeth, snatching his hand like he was an uncontrollable child. Maybe you should invest in a leash and collar for him since he could never get his attendance right.

“What do you mean? You said noon,” he yawned, unfazed at your irritation.

“The brunch starts at noon!” you jeered, “That means you have to show up early!”

“Well you failed to mention those rules,” he tried to bicker back, but you flashed him one of your bitch-looks before he could go any further. That had him shriveling at the sight.

“Whatever, just hurry up and let’s get seated,” you ordered, leading him through the majestic looking double doors, “And take off those sunglasses!”

Much to your dismay, the doors made a very loud creaking noise when they opened. Just about everyone did a double-take to see you arrive late and with a woozy-looking boy shoving sunglasses in his suit pocket.

Eyes were glued on you while judgmental whispers filled the already tense air. There was a small churn in your stomach as you weaved through the round tables. Something was also gnawing at your brain, telling you that it was a terrible, terrible idea. You attempted to brush it aside, though, as you and JJ took your seats.

For some odd reason, the Glossy Posse didn’t show the same enthusiasm towards JJ like the did at the party. They were back to their pretentious ways— you figured it was probably just their hangover attitude.

On the other hand, Warren happily greeted JJ when he sat down, exchanging one of those typical ‘bro’ handshakes. They started chatting on about the previous night while you tried to make small talk with the girls. Unfortunately, they were still being short with you and were, very obviously, throwing looks at JJ, along with their dates.

Glancing to your parents’ table, they didn’t look like they cared too much about your situation, having just flown in from their trip. They were too engrossed in entertaining their friends to really pay you any mind. Sometimes you were grateful that they were oblivious to some things. When you look over at the Vegas, however, Mr. and Mrs. Vega both sent you a disapproving look. The other families followed.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head at that point. Was it a mistake bringing JJ to this event?

The servers came out and made their rounds at the tables, setting bowls of water in front of everyone.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” JJ piped, taking his dessert spoon to sip water from the finger bowl.

“JJ,” you yelled-whispered as guests continued to stare.

“What?” he chided back with an attitude, completely unaware of his surroundings.

“The water is for your fingers.”

His face shot up from the bowl and scanned the room at people dipping their fingers into their respective bowls. “Oh shit,” he sputtered as your entire table tried to hide their snorts.

When the food finally came out, it didn’t really get any better. Baked chicken was on the menu and, well, JJ was the only one in the room who didn’t use a fork and knife. Everyone stared at him incredulously as he used his hands to gobble up his plate. Though, the boy didn’t seem to notice any of the baffled eyes.

Attempting to shield your red face, you continued to take tiny bites from your food, hoping the next hour would go by fast.

You hoped too soon.

As soon as JJ was done eating, he let out a loud belt to where the tables around you could hear. Warren high-fived him. At least someone got a kick out of it. You, along with the rest of the guests, had nothing but revolt on your faces.

Once the plates were cleared, the servers brought out creme brûlée for dessert. You were grateful it was something semi-clean to eat. JJ seemed to get a knack out of all the food. He even leaned over to you with his mouth full and muttered, “This food is fantastic! My compliments to the chef.”

You half-smiled back in embarrassment and took a spoon-full of your dessert. Thankfully, your mom waltzed over when you were half-way through to ask for your help carrying in the posters and stands from the lobby that displayed all the charity and donation information.

Immediately, you rose and scattered out, away from all the the dense room.

At the front, you began picking up the easel stands to bring inside until you spotted the jet-black locks of the last person you wanted to run into that afternoon. You almost dropped the large items in your hands when he came up to you.

“So, I see you brought Maybank here. Looks like he’s really enjoying himself in there,” Max commented dryly beside you. Mrs. Vega must have asked him for a hand as well.

You winced at the oozing criticism in his voice. It was the first time you had spoken to him one-on-one since the breakup.

”Yeah, we’re, uh, kind of together now,” you mentioned, lugging a display. He grabbed the two remaining and rushed to keep up with you, following you back in.

Out of nowhere, he let out disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, y/n, you and Maybank?”

Taken aback by his brashness, you stopped right before the ballroom doors, frowning. “Yeah,” you shot back sternly, “Why not? I get along with him fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. The guy’s a total tool. I’ve told you that from the beginning. Trust me, I know.”

“Know what? What’s good for me?” you pressed, growing more and more exasperated at the sound of his deep and raspy voice.

It was sexy, no doubt, but just the things that were coming out of his mouth made you want to slap him silly. How dare he prance up to you in his gorgeous light blue Armani suit and tell you what’s good for you!

“I just know who you are, y/n,” he went on calmly, with not an ounce of anger present in his tone, “And JJ’s just not a good guy for you.”

You were seeping with outrage at that point. Hiking in a breath, you spoke with the speckles of tranquility you had left in you. “Well I appreciate your concern, though I hardly understand why you have any for me. But we broke up, Max. You completely lost the right to tell me any of that.”

With that, you furiously stomped into the brunch and set the displays at the front for your mom. Max looked dumbstruck as he trailed behind. But you didn’t care.

“Everything okay? Did something happen with Vega?” JJ asked when you got back to your seat. You remained silent. It was the only way to keep yourself from screaming.

It was all too much— the piercing stares, the messy eating, Max.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you informed to JJ as he listened to another one of Warren’s football stories, “And then we’re leaving.”

Before he could respond, you were already racing to the bathroom as fast as your Jimmy Choo wedges could take you.

You needed air. And fast.

Bursting through the bathroom door, you heaved yourself into the biggest stall and flopped down on the toilet seat, taking in deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much. The room was still twirling like you were on the Graviton at a carnival. Too nauseous from it all, you didn’t even care that you were ruining your new white Valentino dress.

You just wanted to hurl inside the antique-decorated bathroom but couldn’t. It was miserable. But at least the bathroom was empty.

All the seeming success of last night crumbled away with every disapproving look or whisper of the guests. And then Max— that fucking asshole. Your head was thumping endlessly as you felt the stress knots crawl up your spine.

What were you thinking? Maybe you were in over your head. No one was believing it. Not for a second.

Even JJ was terrible at playing along. You should’ve known it was just wishful thinking. You knew you had to throw in the towel and told yourself you would call it off once you found some way to stop the hot tears that were streaming down your made-up cheeks.

As you felt your breathing start to normalize, you slowly lifted from the toilet seat and smoothened out your dress. When the bathroom door slammed open against the wall, you immediately fell back down, wanting to avoid any form of human interaction for the rest of your life.

Titters and snickers echoed the air as two girls stumbled in, mid-conversation. They didn’t seem to notice you in the stall at all. Thank God.

“Would you believe y/n? Bringing that dirty Pogue here? She’s gone insane!” A nasally voice spoke by the sinks.

You scrunched your nose, trying to catch a glimpse of their shoes from the opening underneath the stall. You nearly puked. Nameless brand heels? Unacceptable.

“I know! He’s so disgusting and that suit is just repulsive! Does she not have an ounce of embarrassment?” the other one added.

You didn’t recognize their voices, but assumed they probably went to your school by the way they knew you and JJ. A part of you wanted to charge out of the stall and drag their pitiful selves to the ground. But seeing as you were just recovering from a near panic attack, you didn’t have the energy. And they didn’t deserve your breath.

Nevertheless, they still went on. 

“Ever since Vega dumped her for California girl, she’s completely gone off the rails. First the hair change and now she’s dating a Pogue like Sarah Cameron is. It’s so pathetic!”

“Seriously, train wreck of the year if you ask me.”

Train wreck? Pathetic? You’ll show them what pathetic is! Especially with those god-awful shoes. Do they have an ounce of embarrassment showing up here with that kind of atrocity?

You were seconds away from emerging from your ashes to put them in their place. But, lucky for them, they escaped before you could come out of confinement.

Huffing, you stormed out of the stall and towards the mirrors to fix yourself. God forbid you’d ever let anyone see you with smeared mascara!

Dabbing a wet cloth on your cheeks to soothe out the redness, you heard the creak of the door opening behind you and immediately tossed it into a bin. You pretended to fix your hair. Fortunately, the redness faded to a soft pink to look like blush.

Anya strolled in the bathroom behind you. Ugh, the cherry on top of the cake.

You faked a tight smile at her. She threw a cheery one at you, walking up the sink next to yours to toss up her bouncy, voluminous hair. “So, I thought you said that guy out there wasn’t you boyfriend,” she pointed out, not taking her eyes off her own reflection.

“Oh, psh, well you know,” you sputtered, not expecting the sudden inquisition, “One thing led to another that night at the Boneyard and it just kinda… happened.”

It was the first real conversation you had with her, and you wanted to hold your breath at the awkwardness. Anya nodded at your answer, puckering her lips slyly. “I just think it’s cute that you’re trying to make Max jealous.”

You almost did a double take. It was so subtle and smooth, her comment almost flew right over your head. “Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to the blonde-haired home-wrecker.

She didn’t even flinch a muscle at your snub expression, just continued to ogle at herself. It was menacing. Evil really did take form in Anya Carmichael.

“Oh, did I need to spell it out for you?” she blinked, “Y/n, you’ve been out of the picture. If you think showing up with that god-awful guy in his dad’s raggedy suit is gonna change Max’s mind about you, I assure you it won’t work.”

She crinkled her eyes in a hateful smile.

What was with people and their audacity that afternoon? Whatever was in their water, you were not about to have any of it. No one spoke to you like that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said blandly, wanting to get under her skin.  

“Yes you do,” she snarled back, placing both hands on the sink in a threatening manner, “Look. Max and I are together now. You need to get that in your tiny pea-brain head. Do not play dumb with me. I see you looking over at him every five minutes. Get. Over. It.”

“Like I said,” you responded back in a fake-innocent tone just to push her buttons some more, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Anya. I think all the hairspray is really getting to your head.”

Two can play that game.

She narrowed her almond eyes at you and straightened up proudly. Even though she was way taller than you in her six-inch heels, you still stood your ground, blinking up at her tauntingly. At least your swanky parents taught you that much.

She scoffed. “Give it up, seriously. Using that guy to try to get back at your ex is just pathetic. Max was right about you. You’re just a shallow virgin with a handbag.”

With that, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and strutted out the door. Your blood was boiling, having half a mind to go out there and rip the bottled-blonde right off her head. You should’ve known it was all an act!

Fuming, you treaded back to the brunch table, your face doing a complete one-eighty once you stepped through the doors. A lady never showed her seething anger underneath.

JJ spotted you and promptly stood up, snatching your purse, and getting ready to leave.

“Sit,” you demanded, pushing him down by the shoulder so his ass plopped back firmly on the chair. The look of utter shock flashed on his face, but he just took it.

“I’m feeling better now. We’re staying,” you informed as if you were a commander at war. You glanced over at the Vegas’ table where Anya hung her arm proudly on Max’s bicep as he made some joke to his table. She threw over a glare at you. No one but you noticed.

You draped an arm on one of JJ’s ridiculously large shoulder pads, nuzzling your nose to his neck. He was still as confused as ever though, but still went along with it, digging his fork into your half-eaten dessert which he later finished.

If Anya wanted a war, you’ll give her one. May the best bitch win.

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

note: YES SHE WENT THERE! you kno i had to stir in anya- y/n drama!!! 

pls message me to be tagged! 

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[firelxdykatara]

I was the anon who sent the ask about cs, and you actually addressed some of the major arguments i've seen - being with hook turned emma from a strong, independent woman into just a love interest, hook pursued emma with no reciprocated feelings, and that he never really redeemed himself. I've also seen arguments that cs is abusive, which i've seen to some extent in anti-kataang posts. i try not to dive too deep into the anti tag for my own sanity but these are some of the main things i've seen

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ok, sorry, i was just caught up in the euphoria of reminiscing about my captain swan feelings that for a moment there i lived in a world where the Anti CS Brigade didn’t exist. but no, yeah, i know exactly what you’re talking about and honestly i think i just......blocked 90% of it from my mind because so many of those arguments were so vitriolic and widespread but also baseless, like...

gods, ok, here we go. anon you have activated my dormant ouat wordvomit processors and idk if i’ll be able to shut up any time soon but i have A Lot Of Thoughts Here, and also a lot of really bad memories cause ye gods, the ouat shipping wars of the days of yore were vicious.

ANYWAY, like, the vast majority of these arguments came from the ‘swan queen nation’, which is where you can trace a lot of super toxic wlw ship stans back to--just for a little context, but clexa and supercorp both had their roots in swan queen, among other ships, but those are the Big Three i always go back to because what they have in common is ‘the main character of the series is explicitly abused/treated horribly by another woman and for some reason the shippers go nuts over this pairing and will insist the show is queerbaiting them if this specific pairing is not made canon’. and swan queen stans, in particular, had it out for captain swan, because they were incredibly insistent about regina and emma being in love, and naturally the existence of emma’s romantic arc with killian threatened that.

as a result, they quite literally made shit up.

it’s funny (not ‘funny ha ha’ but like funny depressing), because a lot of what they accused CS of is actually shit that happened explicitly on screen with regina and emma. they claimed that emma was no longer strong or independent because she fell in love with killian, while ignoring the fact that she’d become a literal doormat for regina’s many abuses (there are so many things regina did to emma even after her alleged redemption which, if she weren’t being so coddled by the narrative, emma would never have let her get away with--like blaming her for saving the life of a woman regina had murdered in the past, or like telling emma to her face that she wanted to tear killian’s throat out because he managed to come back from the underworld while the man regina loved stayed dead) because, for some reason, they interpreted emma being happy and no longer closed off to the people she loved, choosing to let down the walls she’d built up over a lifetime of trauma as her being ‘reduced to a love interest’ which just did not happen.

like, factually, straight up, emma was every bit as badass while dating killian as she was back in season 1. the only difference is, in season 1 emma didn’t trust anyone, she was closed off, she had a million walls built high around her by trauma, and she wasn’t willing to let anyone in because she believed that if she did then she’d only be traumatized again when they inevitably left. by season 4, when she started officially dating killian, many of those walls had come down, she was happier and healthier, she was falling in love and she was letting herself be in love, she had her parents, her son, the whole town full of people she loved. she was fucking happy, but she wasn’t happy with the right love interest, so swan queen shippers insisted they wanted ‘season 1 emma back’. because they would rather emma be miserable so they could interpret her antagonism with regina as closeted gay pining, than have her dare to be happy with a man and a family that didn’t include regina.

as to the other claims, while hook did make his feelings for emma clear once he realized he felt them, the ball was in her court almost completely. he made comments, told her how he felt, said things like ‘when i win your heart, and i will win it, it will be because you want me’ where the clear emphasis was on emma’s feelings--he believed she had some feeling for him, but he wanted anything between them to be because it was what she wanted. emma initiated every explicitly romantic interaction. killian made a flirty comment, which he was wont to do, and which she could easily have brushed off--instead, she grabbed him by the coat and yanked him into a kiss which lasted far longer than it needed to if all she wanted to do was make a point. (sorry, that scene is just burned into the brain of every CS shipper, i know it literally by heart lmfao) he made it clear that if she wanted him he would be there, but i she didn’t he wasn’t going to push her. he followed her through an entire damn portal into the past because he wanted to help her, because he’d go anywhere for her--to the end of the world, or time--but emma was the one who invited him to dinner with her family. emma was the one who noticed he hadn’t come in yet, and went to see him. emma was the one who kissed him, initiating their relationship.

like @storynightlight said in the replies to the last ask you sent, a majority of the important milestones in killian and emma’s relationship were initiated by emma. she was the one constantly progressing their relationship, it went entirely at her pace in large part because one damaged soul recognizes another, and killian had been through enough trauma in his long (long, long) life to understand that emma needed to work things through on her own terms. he wanted to be part of her life, but it had to be when she was willing to let him in. and he was perfectly content to wait for her to be ready.

as far as the ‘abuse’ claims go, that was honestly just straight up fabrication on the part of swan queen shippers mostly, which is intensely ironic considering the state of emma and regina’s ‘friendship’ for literally the entire damn series. most of them referenced things that happened while emma and killian were enemies (they called their sword fight ‘abuse’, which like.... i’m sorry but two people on opposite sides of a violent conflict having a fight is not abuse, and incidentally that’s an argument that zutara gets hit with too, to this day, clearly words don’t actually mean things anymore), and ignored the fact that killian’s behavior changed as his redemption arc progressed. he didn’t become a good upstanding citizen overnight, but he did feel remorse for his prior bad actions and the harm he caused, he went to great lengths to make up for that harm when and where he could, and he tried to be as good a man as he possibly could in later seasons, even when circumstances (like, oh, gold having possession of his heart and using it to control him, which anti CSers also blamed him for, go figure) made that nearly impossible.

meanwhile, as late as season 6, regina was still blaming emma for everything that went wrong in her life. regina happily browbeat emma about everything she ‘stole’ from her for basically the entire series. regina, in the context of their friendship after her alleged redemption, was constantly verbally and emotionally abusive to emma--and yet that behavior was completely overlooked, or deemed ‘pining’ or some other obvious evidence of romantic feelings, by swan queen shippers who would prefer to claim emma was being abused by her caring and loyal boyfriend who constantly believed in her even when she had trouble believing in herself. (incidentally, it truly is incredibly rich of regina stans (and rumple stans, a lot of them say this too) to claim that killian never redeemed himself, when regina is the one with a vault full of hearts she never returned to their proper owners, and regina is the one who murdered someone emma cared about and never confessed to it, let alone apologized for it; graham died in emma’s arms while regina crushed his heart, and it was never once brought up again. regina got away with it scott free, and it is just one on a list of crimes she literally never expressed even the slightest bit of remorse for, let alone tried to atone for. yet killian is the one who ‘never redeemed himself’ mmhmmm ok sure jan.)

I’M SO SORRY ANON, you probably had no idea the can of Worms you were opening with these asks, but CLEARLY i still have a lot of damn feelings about this fucking show lmfao. THANK YOU THOUGH!!! i haven’t talked about captain swan or even really reminisced much in a while, and i miss them a lot, so it was nice to dive back into my Feelings and remember so much of what i loved about them! i may do a rewatch soon >.> it’s ok if i just skip 4b except the finale and then turn it off immediately after emma and killian’s reunion at the end and pretend the entire show ended there, right????

i hope you’re having a good night! thanks again for the asks <33

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia: Night Drivers/Return to Wartwood Review “Many Happy Returns”

Hello you happy people. And Amphibia is back and that means my reviews are back! As for why this reviews a bit late despite it leaking, I wanted to wait for today, and long story short both focused on finishing a review that WASN’T time senstive, instead of finishing it Sunday, and overestimated how much time i’d have to do two reviews on a day that included my first covid shot, grocery shopping, helping mom clean the car, and my friend coming over to watch Judas and the Black Messiah. Excellent film by hte way, as was the Sound of Metal which we watched after. Point is I done goofed and I will try to at the very least actually get the reviews of the episodes out on the same day they come out. 

But slip up or not i’m happy to be back in the saddle, and back to Wartwood. I’m pumped for the heavier second half, with more secrets to uncover, some zelda style temple action, and some heavy drama with just a whiff of keith david, as well as to see the supporting cast from Wartwood again after far too long. So how’d the mid-season premire pair fair? Join me under the cut to find out. 

Night Drivers: I was really excited by the Road Trip idea when first announced for season 2. A chance to expand the world and get the plantars out of their comfort zone was an amazing concept and it did lead to some really great stories and interesting locales.. mixed with episodes that had interesting locations but no interesting plot or character stuff. It was a mixed bag, and disappointing after close to a year’s wait to continue the plot that it really didn’t outside of “Toadcatcher”. Anne never really dealt with her trauma and the show never dealt with hop pop’s poularity or anything else. Again there were GOOD episodes and ideas but it felt like the show stalled for a good chunk of the season till we got to Netwopia which while still having tons of slice of life stuff felt a lot fresher with it, and had a lot more fun playing with stock plots and gave us a fresh new setting to dig into. 

So I was a bit hesitant to go back to the road for an episode.. even if it was just one episode. Thankfully I was very wrong there as Night Drivers was a pretty good episode and would fit well among the best of the road trip arc like “Truck Stop Polly” “Fort in the Road” “Anne Hunter” “Toadcatcher” and “Wax Museum”.

The plot is straightforward: Sprig and Polly are excited that their almost home to wartwood and if Anne and Hop Pop drive all night they’ll be there by morning. Polly will get pillbug pancakes and Sprig will see Ivy again. This is part of a long tradtion of “skiping over the journey home because we’re tired and we wanna go home” in fiction. Jokes aside it’s a resonable device used to prevent ending fatigue and in this case to free up episodes for the second half. We already saw the journey once, we usually don’t need to see it again. To Amphibia’s credit they have valid reasons for it: The journey is LITERALLY sped up, as Hop Pop and Anne have been driving for 20 hours straight.. and their on a timer. As was established last time.. well the last time that wasn’t a spooky halloween episode, The Plantars have to get back for the harvest and really don’t have time to sightsee, while they all have to be there for whenever Marcy comes back to take Anne to the first temple. They’ve also traveled these roads before so while their going a whole other directoin, they know what perils to avoid. 

But as anyone whose taken a long cartrip can tell you, you can’t shotgun it forever and the two eventually tap out with Hop Pop telling Sprig and Polly not to night drive as it’s dangerous and blah blah blah standard parental warning that will be swiftly ignored. So once Hop Pop and Anne are conked out they swiftly ignore it after we get their dreams.. which are the best gags of the episode: Hop Pop has a dream with weird, really cool looking monsters that represent his faults, only for it to turn Lucid and him to start flying and take his shirt off and whip it around Muscle Man style. 

While Anne’s is about a yogurt world where there’s only one flavor... BLACK LICORICE. Yeah it quickly turns from Shopkins to the Lich From Adventure Time really fucking quick. 

So while Anne has a nightmare and Hop Pop becomes unto a god, Sprig and Polly drive all night, repreadtly running into a creepy hitchiker and realizing it is as dangerous as they said with bolders, even worse creatures than usual because of course theye’d be a lot of nasty things lurk in the dark why wouldn’t they on froggy death world, a nightmarish fog and nearly dying on said foggy road they took to evade the hitchiker. Naturally the scary hook handed hitchiker.. is a friendly one, simply trying to help them and saving them from going over a cliff. They do make it three miles from Wartwood and Hop Pop wakes up angry to find they disobeyed him.. but Anne gets him to back off as they clearly learned their lesson from the sleep deprviation and nearly dying, and our heroes head for home. 

Night Drivers isn’t an exceptional episode, but it is decent and still does belong with the other good road trip episodes, with some good dream sequences and a nice dynamic between Sprig and Polly. It was nice to have an episode with the two that was good unlike Quarallers Pass which made me want to run full speed into my nearest wall until I was given the sweet gift of unconciousness. While the Hook Handed man thing was a bit obvious it lead to some great gags. It’s a nice breather after the tearjerking mid-season finale and while we’ve obviously had months and a haloween episode between that, the creators rightfully realized a lot of people will be binging the series in the future. The issue I had with the first quarter of the season was it was ALL break and only a little plot progression. Here we’ve had a lot of plot progression in the last episode chronlogically, and are going to have a lot in the coming episodes with ‘After the Rain” coming next week. It’s nice to take a break and see the forest for the hook handed ghosts.

Return to Wartwood: I was excited and terrified of this one. I was excited because I missed the supporting cast from season one, mostly Ivy and Maddie, and was delighted to see them again in full. But I was also worried the show might pull out a melancholy breakup plot and having gotten attached to Ivy/Sprig and Hop Pop/Sylvia I was worried. And I was delightfully wrong as instead it’s another breather episode and an utterly fantastic one after the simply decent one above. 

Our heroes return, without being drawn by rob liefield or replaced by the Squadron Supreme first, and are happily greeted by the town. Aformentoined fears died a happy death as Sylvia squeezes Hop Pop and as for Sprig, Ivy unsuprisingly ambushes him. Everyone’s back and the Mayor, who I also badly missed is back using Toadie as a gong to get everyone back to buisness, with Swampy inviting them for a big dinner at his diner that night to celebrate and welcome them back.. and to give out their gifts. 

Sprig and Anne are equally confused while Polly and Hop Pop are sweating bullets. Turns out when they got the Fwagon they agreed to get a bunch of stuff for the town and forgot and now everyone’s on the hook for it and want to lie their butts off to solve it. In a nice show of character development, Anne has learned that the lying never solves anything “I think we’ve learned that lesson by now”. After SO many plots of the characters lying and it going terribly, it’s nice to have someone speak up. Sprig also wants to lie but only becuase he’s deeply afraid Ivy will break up with him as she wanted a Red Sun shell to go with the blue moon shell she gave him. Awwww. And oh crap. 

So our heroes head home to plan and kick Chuck out (“I grew tulips”). So they do the natural thing... and decide to summon an edltich beast from the necronomicon... which of course Maddie gave Sprig as a present (”Aww that’s nice”. Agreed Polly, agreed.). I also can’t help but love the line “We’re all cull with practicing the dark arts to solve our problem right?” So our heroes get the proper summoning horn, thing to go with the horn and some candles.. i’ts not part of the ritual but Anne says it helps with ambience and it’s right. 

So our heroes summon the Chikalisk, an edltich god that’s naturally basalisk in all but name, which dosen’t attack unless attacked and goes after gold. So they fake some golden presents, and the beast attacks at the party.. but the town naturally fights back, and our heroes are forced to help fight the monster as it stonifies people. So we get a truly glorious battle sequences as the whole town shows off how badass they are, with Maddie curing people, Sylvia showing she can keep up with Hop Pop and Ivy showing her already established badass bonafieds. It’s just awesome. Also the Mayor uses Toadie as a shield not realizing he’s turned to stone which can only remind me of this. 

Once the townsfolk are freed they get into Chickalisk formation (”We have a formation for that?” “We have a formation for everything!”) And it’s offended enough to just nope out. The townsfolk are depressed though the presents got destroyed and Anne glares the family into coming clean. And while the mayor seems mad at first... he just laughs with everyone taking it in stride: It was boring without them getting into trouble and learning lessons every week, and they missed them.  Ivy likewise dosen’t care about a gift she just missed her boyfriend.. and asks Sprig to take her on a proper date and smooches him on the cheek leaving both him and Anne catatonic, with Polly dragging Anne away and sprig just falling over before Maddie hits him with the potion. It dosen’t work that way, end episode. 

Return To Wartwood was a standout episode, with tons of great jokes, pacing and a nice plot that showed growth in anne. While Night Drivers was decent, this was the show at it’s : Sweet, deranged and adventurous all in one episode. While Night Drivers was a good appitizer this was one hell of an entree. Or an appetizer sampler which I often use as an entree. Great episode and a nice high note to start on. 

Next Time: We get an Ivy focused episode!

And Hop Pop is finally forced to own up to his lies!

As the twin kermits sooth you if you liked this review, follow me for more, check the amphibia tag for more reviews from this season and join me on patreon. If I get another patreon, i’ll add reviewing season 1 to my 25 dollar stretch goal so look out for that and my next one at 20 dollars, only 5 dollars away, nets a monthly review of a darkwing duck episode. Check it out and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[rachelbethhines]

TTS Songs Ranked Worst to Best

Someone asked me to rank my fav and least fav TTS songs a while back, but I’ve since then relistened to the soundtrack and there’s a whole bunch of songs that just forgot about, so here’s a more accurate ranking now that the songs are more fresh in my mind

32 .  Life After Happily Ever After (Reprise)

This song is infuriating, because the finale is infuriating. Listening to this song just makes me angry all over again because it reminds me just how unsatisfying the ending to TTS was. I wanted to turn it off at several points. I barely can get through it despite it being so short. It doesn’t help that the soundtrack leaves all the dialogue in there and fails to actually end the song. It just cuts off before the final note.

31. Hook Foot’s Ballad

Does this even count as a song? Why is it here on the soundtrack but not the Hurt Incantation? Did Menken really waste his talent writing a joke and did the showrunners really waste money and limited resources on this?

30. Friendship Song

Bland, boring, and pointless. It was clearly written as a marketing stunt for the radio disney charts and not as anything to do with the plot of the series. They just throw it up on screen to fill out the running time and don't even let the whole song play through. It’s pitiful.

29. Waiting in the Wings (Reprise)

I didn’t think much of the original song one way or the other, but the reprise is soooo dumb. The plot twist it introduces winds up ruining the whole show and sabotaging both Cassandra’s and Rapunzel’s characters. It’s not even a nice sounding song on it’s own. The kid’s voice is irritating (who I’m sure is doing her best, but really little kids shouldn’t be made to sing professionally as a general rule) and the melody just as bland as the first time it was played. The only reason to like this song is if you’r a mega fan of Cassandra’s or her VA, which I am not. (Note: this is not a criticism of Eden Espinosa, I just don’t happen to follow any of the VAs in this show)      

28. Through It All

I like the instrumentals in this song, and that’s about it. Everything about this song is wrong. It doesn’t fit the story, it’s a misuse of the cast and songwriters, it’s a waste of valuable screen time, the melody is dull, and the dang soundtrack had to throw in that lame dialogue about ‘greatest threat ever’ at the beginning. If you want a pump up song in your story then you got to earn it. You can’t just tell us things are bad, you got to show it. A joyful horseback ride and everyone sitting in a bar safe and sound isn’t threatening or depressing enough to warrant a cheering up session. Plus the song itself doesn’t add anything to the overall story.

27.  The Girl Who Has Everything

Sometimes I think the writers were willing trying to sabotage themselves. It’s as if they were determined to make the only two main female characters in the show unlikeable bitches in season three.   Don’t believe me? The creator Chris has said this song only exists to highlight how much easier Rapunzel has things than Cass and went onto say that Rapunzel was in the wrong during their conflict because ‘she held Cassandra back’. (Oh yeah she totally ‘held back’ the grown woman who left on her own accord, returned on her own accord, and then assaulted and tried to murder a bunch of people for no reason of her own accord.) But this song does succeed in furthering season’s three narrative that Rapunzel is a spoiled selfish brat. Shame the story fails to address this setup and never has Rapunzel learn to be a better person. Rather the narrative bends over backward to tell us how special Rapunzel is without any sense of self awareness and this song falls into that same trap; making it both irritating and pointless.

26. Listen Up

Yeah, I talked about this on my salt marathon, but I just don't like this song very much. The melody is fine but the lyrics are a real miss in my mind. It doesn’t help matters that the song is indeed pointless in the grand scheme of things.

25.  Livin’ the Dream

This is much on the same level as Listen Up as it features the same problems. It doesn’t add to the narrative and the lyrics kind of let it down. I placed it higher just because I like the melody a little more.

24.  More of Me

This song is a lot like the Friendship Song in that it was created to be an end credit song for the pop charts and you’d be forgiven in forgetting it even exists. However, it at least got to actually play all the way through. I think this song was a real missed opportunity. I honestly believe that it should have been the opening theme song of the show instead of Wind in My Hair. It’s more built to serve such a purpose and it’s a waste of resources not to actually use it. Alternatively, I would have accepted it being reworked into the actual series as a character song. Especially since we’re missing a song in season three due to budget cuts.  

23. Wind In My Hair

Speaking of theme songs, I think I would like Wind In My Hair a lot better if i didn’t have to listen to it every episode. On its own it actually has a lot of things going for it; a nice melody, interesting instrumentals, good singing, ect. Unfortunately it’s just over exposed, and none of those elements lend themselves naturally to an intro song for a tv show. In fact the theme song feels really out of place and is edited oddly to fit the shorter intro. 

22. Wind In My Hair (Reprise)  

Honestly the theme song is mostly comprised of this reprise, but it has the opening instrumentals from the OG song frankensteined onto it. This means that the version that plays before every episode is on fullblast all the time to keep the energy up, but that’s not how the song is suppose to go.  The actual reprise that plays in the pilot builds to a crescendo, starting soft and melancolony and getting louder and more hopeful and determined. It sounds a lot better in full because of that.  It’s still too overexposed though. Both these songs would probably be higher on the list of not for the theme song version. 

21. With You by My Side

This song is fine. It’s nothing special, but it’s not bad either. What knocks it down the list is the fact that Lance isn’t in it, despite Lance being right there.  Like don't bother hiring a famous Broadway singer if you’re not going to have him sing!  But that speaks more to the poor writing of season two than anything else. This song also doesn’t really add anything to the narrative as, contrary to what the writers intended, it doesn’t actually enhance the emotional impact of Cassandra’s betrayal later in the episode. The song itself is just tacked on and doesn’t take the opportunity to lay down any foreshadowing for that plot point.  

20. Next Stop Anywhere

Another perfectly serviable song. It’s not bad but nothing outstanding. It gets the job done. It’s also really ho-hum and the soundtrack keeps all the unneeded dialogue, which is a pet peeve of mine. 

19. Waiting In the Wings

Despite it’s hype, I never thought much of Waiting in the Wings. It’s got nice instrumentals and Eden Espinosa gives it her all in the singing department. The problem is it’s too generic. It’s a bare bones basic ass ‘I want song’. Cassandra's movations are weak and unsupported by the narrative, the melody is boring, and it honestly doesn’t add anything to her story. I mean it should, it’s her character solo, but because she’s written so poorly the song just winds up undermining the character in the end.   All I’m saying is that, this is not the song from season two that I would have nominated for the Emmys. But it’s still Alan Menken, it’s still nicely performed, and given the rest of the competition for that year, it did deserve to win. 

18. If I Could Take That Moment Back 

This song is also pretty generic, but it’s less boring than I See the Light, (yeah, I said it, I See the Light is boring) so that’s a win in my book. Ergo this holds the title of the only New Dream duet that I enjoy. But there’s better stuff on this list. 

17. Next Stop Anywhere (Reprise)

Well no, I take that back. The reprise of Next Stop Anywhere is also technically a New Dream duet. It’s still not anything amazing, but it works for what it is. Plus, Adria’s opening dialogue in the soundtrack version doesn’t bother me quite as much as some of the other dialogues choices that were kept in.  

16. Stronger Than Ever Before 

I really enjoyed this song in the moment. It’s catchy and fun, and it finally has Lance doing something rather than ignoring his existence. However it is borderline unnecessary in terms of story placement, and I’m slightly mad at it now that I know that we could have gotten a Rapunzel and Varian duet but it was scrapped for this instead.   

15. Crossing the Line

Keeping with the theme of ‘songs I have conflicting emotions about’, we have Crossing the Line.  This song is confused. It starts and stops, the melody isn’t clear, the orchestration is playing tug of war with the singers for dominance, and it’s basically Alan Menken and the show’s creators ripping off Frozen. (I guess he’s kicking himself for leaving that particular project?)   But it’s interesting. I never heard anything quite like it. It’s memorable even if it doesn’t fully work. It’s got these interesting bits and pieces to it that just never quite comes together as a whole. Some of the lyrics are some of the best Glenn Slater has ever wrote and is far better than the story actually surrounding the song. Yet there’s other lines that are total cringe. Sometimes the song is bold and catchy and gets you all hyped up, and then other times its limp and staggering and feels so awkward to listen to.  Yet it’s not boring or generic and so I have to place it higher than the rest of the songs that’s come before. (Also, there’s some amazing orchestral covers out there that really pulls together the various parts really well, just fyi) 

14.  Nothing Left to Lose

I really don't like this song.  I’ve been one of its biggest critics ever since it was leaked by the marketing team earlier this year.  And yet... I can’t in good conscience place any lower on this list.  All of the problems I have with it are the exact same problems I have with Crossing the Line. It’s confused, the various pieces don't line up, the instrumentals are competing with the vocals, the song’s progression is weird with it’s constant key changes, some of the lyrics are good while others are absolute shit, ect and so forth.  It also actively works against the story it's trying to tell. The song wants you to sympathize with Cassandra, but her lines are as shallow as a puddle and makes her look like a sociopath. Especially when she’s physically attacking Varian through out for no reason. Also neither character learns anything from the exchange and it fails to impact the story.  By all accounts this is a bad song.  But I’m Varian trash.  There I said it. You happy?  Varian’s parts in the songs are fine, good even, and the song is anything but bland. I would rather listen to a mess then be bored to tears by a competent yet standard four chord pop song. 

13. I’d Give Anything

This song is nice to listen to. Story wise it absolutely sucks and shouldn’t have been in the finale at all. But it sounds pleasant.  This is one of those songs that could pop up randomly on the radio and I would just think it it a nice sad break up song. I can’t say that about some of the other misplaced songs in the show. This one however, you can very much, absolutely divorce this song from the narrative and it would be fine.  Now that’s not good writing, and it’s very much a waste of limited resources, but I’m rating the music here first and story second. 

12. Buddy Song

The Buddy Song also absolutely did not need to exist but it also sounds nice. Plus, it makes use of Lance so I’m a little more lenient towards it.   I can’t however place it higher since it really is just Alan Menken ripping off Alan Menken. Like, I would not be at all surprised to find out that this was originally a deleted song for Aladdin or something.  

11. Bigger Than That

What can I say, Lance just gets good songs. When the show bothers to give them to him.  Unfortunately, it’s not the best placed. It kind of interrupts the more important drama of Be Very Afraid, and probably should have been saved for a later episode. Especially since it hinges on a plot point that is contradictory to Lance’s character.    We should have gotten a Varian and Rapunzel duet here and given Lance his own episode in the second half of season three. This song could have easily been refitted into being a bonding moment for him and the girls. That would also have filled out the season’s original songs to the usual eight instead of only  seven.

10. Life After Happily Ever After

Now we’re getting to the good stuff. The top ten. The best of the best.  This song makes the cut for three reasons.  1. It lyrically and musically interesting 2. It does the job of furthering the story and the characters  and 3. Eugene’s part is so damn good.  Like this song could have easily fell down into the ranks of ‘fine but generic’ if it wasn’t for the bridge with Eugene. That puts it over the top and to my mind makes it better than anything from the OG film. (well almost anything, Mother Knows Best is still great)    This is the barometer by which I measure all of the music in the series. Is it better or worse than Life After Happily Ever After? Because this is the level that I equate good musicals with.  What keeps on the tenth spot and not higher is the dialogue that still left on the soundtrack and the lack of a Cassandra introduction. That and also the rest of the songs are just flat better. 

9. Hurt Incantation 

Hurt, Decay, Reverse, whatever you want to call it, this was such a cool fucking concept. One that was utterly wasted by the show.  I place this so high because it just sounds awesome! It looks good too, and it offered up so many possibilities from a story perspective.  What lets it down is the lack of follow up for it and it’s too short. There’s needed to be another verse. It also should have been on the actual soundtrack instead of  Hook Foot’s Ballad.  (The Heal Incantation also was sung in What the Hair, but I’m not counting it since it was written for the film) 

8.  The Girl Who Has Everything (Reprise)

I hate the initial song and the set up that it took to get here, but I love this reprise. It’s perfect. This is what the story needed more of. Rapunzel taking her life into her hands, and her proposing to Eugene would have been the perfect capstone for her arc.  In fact I’m angry we didn’t actually get that. There’s absolutely no reason why Rapunzel couldn’t have done so and we could have had her and Eugene engaged during the second half of season three. How much better would have it been if Cassandra threatened their wedding plans and that’s why they couldn’t go through with it until after the series ended? So much more tension that way. 

7. I Got This

This is a really good song that actually futhers the characters and the narrative. Moreover it’s refreshing to see the heroine not be perfect and to fail sometimes due to her own inadequacies. It’s just a shame that the series didn’t follow through with this set up, but I appreciate the attempt all the same.   

6.  Set Yourself Free

This is the only song in the series that’s an actual satisfying pay off for anything. Music wise it’s nothing too special, but in terms of context it just works. We were sorely deprived of such resolutions and songs with actual meaning in the show. 

5. View From Up Here

This song is too good for the episode it actually appears in. We needed something like this back in season one to introduce Cassandra with. It also sadly doesn’t fit with the wider narrative after season three. However I shall still appreciate it as a ‘what might have been’ type song. 

4.  Let Me Make You Proud 

The only reason why this song isn’t higher is just overexposure and I’ve no one to blame but myself for that. I’ve listened to this song way too many times. As such it tends to alternate between this, View from Up Here, and the next song on the list. But make no mistake it is glorious. Fantastic instrumentals, set up, and of course amazing vocals. 

3.  Everything I Ever Thought I Knew

Yes, I know this plot point didn’t lead anywhere, but it works for this song at least. Also Eugene’s VA is a really underrated singer. He sounds nice and he emotes really well.  Though I’ll be honest, this jumped up to third place because it was fresh in my mind after listening to the soundtrack before making this list. I’ve always liked the song and I do rate it highly, but it can change places with Let Me Make You Proud and View from Up Here at anytime depending on my mood. 

2.  Let Me Make You Proud (Reprise)

This song is heartbreaking!  Story wise it probably shouldn’t exist because it gives away the twist too soon, but who cares, it’s awesome!  Varian’s arc is the most compelling in the show and the only thing that saves TTS from falling into mediocre obscurity; and it’s songs like this that help make the arc stand out even more than it already does. 

1. Ready As I’ll Ever Be

I said it before and I’ll say it again; Ready As I’ll Ever Be is the greatest thing Alan Menken has ever written in his entire career!  If you know anything about the multiple award winning songwriter then you know that is no faint praise and I do not dole it out lightly.  This song is the reason why this show even has a fanbase. People are still getting into the series because of this song. And no matter how many times you listen to it just rocks!   It’s complex, layered, moody, and with a fantastic beat and energy. The performances are wonderful and the instrumentation glorious. It belongs in the hollows of Disney’s greatest hits and not regulated to a spin-off tv show that failed to make its money back.  I weep for the lost potential that this song and this show had. It hurts to know that so many people will never see this flash of brilliance that has come out of the House of Mouse, will never know the wonderfulness that is Varian.  Ah, ‘c'est la vie’, I suppose. Tangled the Series got what it deserved, but it's crew did not. While I can not in all honesty recommend the series in full; I do sincerely urge any Disney fan to check out the songs at the very least. Especially this one.  And that’s it. There’s my official ranking of all the songs, and I hope those of you read my Tangled reviews appreciate the hours it took into making this. 

[alfredo-kesmann]

WIP ask game!

My Italian ass is asking for "Ci sarà", but my angst heart beats for "Solitaire". I don't want to be greedy, so let's pick Solitaire.

Unless...?

Thank you so so much for asking, and I'm sorry for reponding so late! The reason for this is mostly that I actually finally got inspiration for Solitaire again after you send me this ask, so thank you for that! I'll give you little snippets of both WIP's, because greed sometimes is good (namely when it motivates me to finally work on WIP’s). 

So, first things first: Solitaire.

You're absolutely, completely right about the angst. The entire plot is Martín angst, I'm not even kidding. The general outline is that it forms a series with Fear and loathing/ Now I see, I see it for the first time, which is about Andrés in the Mint realising he should never have left Martín but accepting that it is too late now anyways. Solitaire is to be Martín's experiences of the Mint heist and the time afterwards. The title is taken from MARINA's song by the same name, and although it only is vaguely is inspired by the song, I want to match the vibe I get from it: a supposedly beautiful life that actually is just... loneliness and tears. A ‘we could have had it all’ and ending up with empty hands. 

I only have a few paragraphs jotted down yet, though, because I find it one of my hardest WIP's to work on: I want to show a canon compliant Martín, and I want to accurately portray the way he feels like a victim, even if he isn't truly one. I want to correctly talk about his mental ilnesses (I am guessing at least depression and narcissistic personality disorder, though I’m not planning to label them in the story), but I am no psychologist. I started this WIP around March or April and I suppose I am now more sure about what I'm doing, and now the words are (finally) slowly flowing. 

That being said, enjoy these little snippets:

“Andrés was like a poisonous drug, flowing through my veins and cutting off any necessary blood supply, but it felt so exquisite, like a breeze in the warmest summer day."

[....]

Martín sat in the middle of broken glass, a reflection of him in more than one way, and cried until breathing was getting hard and his eyes were red and dry. 

[...]

The two of them had become so intertwined that sometimes it was difficult to see which one of them was dead and which one of them was still living.

[...]

The television only showed static now, ever since he had thrown an empty bottle of vodka towards it. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’, went the saying, but Martín hadn't been able to think straight after he had heard the news. In a way the image was fitting, because Martín’s life had become static too, ever since that horrible day.

[...]

But now he understood Andrés’ romanticizing of the death, for his best friend had lived his whole life knowing he would take his own one day. And he had wanted to make his final show grand, he had wanted a last standing ovation, one that deafened his eyes, before the red curtains closed forever. Martín also knew that Andrés would dissaprove of the method he was contemplating, in his sad little flat, a simple shot instead of blazing guns. So he put the velvet box back and instead took a bottle of vodka in hands, waiting until a better idea came to mind, waited until he had a plan, ignoring how those were harder to come by now Andrés wasn’t with him anymore.

Now, Ci sarà is practically the polar opposite of Solitaire: it's pure and unadulterated fluff. The only thing they have in common is that they both are named after a song and both get too little of my attention ehehe oops. I have no idea where I want to go with this story, whether to make it a one shot, or something more. I think the latter, though.

Basically, I had been studying (very) late and it was around 3AM. I was listening to a music playlist when Ci sarà came on. It is one of my favourite Italian songs (though honestly I love anything by Romina Power and Al Bano) and yes I know, I know, my music taste is just as basic as Andrés de Fonollosa's. I, myself realised that exact fact then as well. So, I thought: what if this would be the song for Berlermo's first dance at their wedding? The song just makes me so happy in an undescribable way, and since feelings are always much stronger deep in the night, I felt so incredibly happy and in love listening to it, in the middle of the night, at a volume that was a little too loud. This resulted in me putting the song on repeat, and trying to describe that feeling I had felt. So in a way, ci sarà is a writing exercise. 

The plot thus far basically is Andrés being overwhelmed by happiness during his wedding dance with Martín (and everyone is alive and happy). Because as much as I love making him suffer in stories, I also like writing his strangely soft side around Martín. I might write the entire wedding and also the proposal, because I have ideas, especially for the latter (Andrés had been planning to propose for months, then Martín is the first to ask him. Andrés is divided between tremendous frustration and great happiness, but obviously says ‘yes’; that’s also why I imagine that they both take the surname ‘Berotte-de Fonollosa’). 

So, here some snippets (I couldn’t choose so it’s slightly more than ‘some’):

They were spinning, whilst the music was swelling, and it was dizzying Andrés. One step back, to the side, close, one forward, to the side, close, an endless repetition. Martín spinning him around and pulling him in his arms again. Their friends all singing Ci sarà, all wearing white clothing and pearly smiles, the adoration clearly visible in Martín’s eyes, how beautiful Martín was looking in the suit. No, not just Martín, his Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa. They were turning again, his husband’s -he couldn’t believe it, his husband’s- warm hand burning on his waist, then on his right cheek, only shortly and suddenly the refrain started and Martín was singing too, albeit softly, yet it’s still too loud in Andrés’ ears. Everything is so loud, so bright, so vibrant. It’s all so pure, and he’s drowning in love, with the sun shining brightly as if it was God’s blessing of their union, the perfectly green grass as nature’s wedding gift to the new spouses. 

[...]

Andrés manages to spot his hermanito in the choir made of bank robbers, he’s holding hands with his wife and Paula and he looks so happy and carefree. He has finally accepted Andrés’ relationship, he had even been the one to walk Andrés to the altar, and the things Sergio had told him then were still going through his head.

The butterflies in Andrés’ stomach were taking him over more and more, he is growing dizzy and dizzier. All this love, he has no place for it, it is seeping through his veins, bursting out of his fingertips like rays of sunshine, out of the fingertips that are currently in Martín’s hand and on his shoulder. Andrés knows that he hasn’t had much to drink yet, but he has never been more intoxicated, intoxicated on this eternity captured in less than four minutes. Martín is turning them again, leading him gently, keeping him steady. Martín is there for him like he has always been. And now it’s finally right, it’s finally the way it should be, the other ring on Martín’s hand. Finally, he has married his last spouse, it’s finally the one who he was meant to be with. Finally, finally, finally.

[...]

Andrés feels like he is flying, like his feet aren’t touching the floor anymore. The two of them form a leaf in a strong summer wind by the blue sea, slowly going upwards in an intricate dance, but they’re also so much more. They are the wind and the sea, the entire universe is drowning in their love and they are drowning in the universe. It’s all so much, so so much, yet so small. There is no Berlín, no Palermo, no monastery, no friends forming a choir, no wedding cake, it’s just Andrés and Martín Berotte-de Fonollosa, and their love for eachother. 

[...]

Andrés is oh so dizzy with happiness and love, and then he feels it, wet on his cheeks, rolling over his lips, Martín’s hand gently sweeping the oceans welling in his husband’s eyes away. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t and he doesn’t need it anyway, he already knows what Martín’s soft smile would look like. When Martín kisses him again, softly cupping his cheek, Andrés realises his husband had been crying as well, their tears mixing together like everything between the two of them always has, the way they’ve always been. Like so many of their clothes, their ideas, their furniture, their past and future, their personalities, their love. They have always been intertwined, it just took Andrés a while to see. 

[...]

“I can’t believe you cried,” Martín said as he giggled, truly giggled, and Andrés thought it was somewhat comparable bubbles coming to the surface in a fishing pond, and then decided it was a stupid thought because nothing can compare to his husband. Andrés can’t help smiling. “You were crying too, mi marido,” he says softly, the quip in there lost, replaced by pure adoration. He takes Martín’s face into his hands. “Today was my last wedding, I know it for sure. No one else has ever made me feel like this.” And normally, Martín would have joked that he must had said that to all of his wives too, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands mirrored Andrés’, softly stroking Andrés’ cheekbones, which were still wet with tears. Their lips met without any of their usual aggression and hunger, and maybe this kiss was even more important than the one after the exchanging of vows, for Andrés just had made a promise that was much more meaningful. 

Thank you again for asking, I hope you liked these snippets! I might or might not have just started another WIP based on the season 5 trailer, so I have no clue when these two will finally be published. 

[suddenlysackler]

Afterglow (Nice to Meet You Series)

Charlie Barber x Reader

Nice to Meet You: a series of one shots based off of this post. Previous installments can be found here:

Adam Sackler

TW: Lil bit of angst and cynicism at the beginning, mentions of divorce, breakups, anxiety, depression, mention of alcohol consumption

A/N: This is my first piece that I’ve posted in awhile, I’m so sorry for the content drought! This series is kind of sporadic atm (kind of a result of life) but I miss you all so very much. Here’s to a normal content schedule some day 💓 Thank you for reading!

...

Timing always tends to be a funny thing, you supposed.

You weren’t sure if you were an “everything happens for a reason” sort of person person, a person who believed in fate. Who believed in soulmates. You used to be that way six years ago, before the reality of life and relationships and loss and grief and disappointment and all of the wonderful bad things had gotten to you. Had snatched up who you were, chewed that essence up, and spit it right back out. 

So here you were, one year removed from when everything essentially blew up in your face, leaving you to rebuild.

And here Charlie was, coming off one of the worst years of his life, knowing almost exactly how you felt.

The cynic in you is saying that it’s just too cliché, the two of you being so broken and finding each other like this. 

The small voice in the back of your mind that’s still clinging to the dreamer you once were? It’s telling you that the two of you were meant to find each other and, yeah, you roll your eyes every time the thought crosses your mind. However, with each passing day, you become more and more convinced that it was true.

How embarrassing. 

It’s one of those rare September days that happen before the seasons change, when it feels more like mid October than the last few days of summer. Your cheeks are burning from the wind that whips your hair everywhere, a pleasant cold that you’d longed for over the summer months. The hot coffee in your hand threatens to spill from it’s cup and you take tentative sips when you absolutely have to stop at crosswalks and wait for cars to go by before darting out again.

Naturally, you were running late to the Saturday morning meeting of people on the New York theater scene planning for what the industry calls red bucket season. In the aftermath of all of the loss and grief and spiraling thoughts last fall you had finally said yes to the constant begging of your coworkers in the marketing department at Schubert and started to become more heavily involved with Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids. The overwhelming joy that came with the annual Flea Market in the Schubert Ally last September had given you hope to last all the way through to red bucket season, which carried you into the spring and helped you to feel like you were doing something productive with your time other than sleep, eat, work, and cry.

You’d met people from different companies in the theater world, met so many lovely actors and musicians and dressers and heads of house and developed a net to busy yourself, to affirm your sense of self worth, to get a drink with on a Sunday afternoon when the ghost light was finally turned on after the matinee crowd had finally cleared the stage door and the last member of the orchestra had said goodnight.

Taking a deep breath and glancing at your watch only to see that you were fifteen minutes late, you swallow and push your way through the doors, cheeks heating up even more if at all possible. There isn’t anyone you know staring back at you when all twenty something people turn to see who had arrived late and interrupted the meeting’s organizer. You cringe internally as you call out a simple apology and slip into the first vacant seat that catches your eye.

Enter Charlie Barber.

His head whipped back when everyone else’s had. He had looked you up and down, tried to see if you were anyone he knew like everyone else in the room. He couldn’t see you, didn’t really see you until you plopped down next to him, wind blown and flustered and absolutely breathtaking. 

Post divorce finalization, Charlie had decided that he wasn’t going to go looking for someone else. He didn’t need someone to come in and pick up all the pieces or any of that bullshit. He wasn’t looking for a savior to fix it all —grief was something to handle on your own in his eyes. 

As you lean over and whisper another apology to him specifically, as if you had inconvenienced him personally by sweeping into the room late and choosing to sit next to him and draw attention to him too, Charlie feels like he’s been hit by a truck. The simple apology rings like a crescendo through his head and chest and he feels it in his bones. He rushes out his acknowledgement, tells you it’s okay, but he feels like his mouth has turned into molasses.  

About halfway through the presentation, he leans over and nudges you, pointing out a typo in the slide presentation. It’s a bold move, all things considered — you did know the woman running the meeting, she was your boss and someone you considered to be a close acquaintance. You’d mentioned as much when Charlie had turned to you during some dumb partner exercise she had made you all do to get to know each other.

The stifled laughter that bubbles past your lips rivals any top forty hit that played in the background when Charlie got his coffee that morning, much earlier than you, in the coffee shop three blocks from the auditorium you were now sitting in. Suddenly, he finds himself obsessing over how it would sound uninhibited by the social circumstances. He wants to make you laugh over and over again. 

It’s chance that the two of you are assigned to help run the first red bucket training session of the season before the first performance of a long running musical that you had never seen nor cared to have seen three days later. It’s close to dinner time and you’ve had a long day at the office. Charlie’s had a long day too, a long few days thinking about when he’d see you again. How well the two of you had gotten on, how your hands had brushed over each other at the stupid little food spread during your break on Saturday. 

He thinks about what he should wear, what you’d be wearing, if you’d want to run across the street afterwards and split a pie at the local pizza joint that all of the tourists frequented before shows, wanting to get an “authentic” slice but not wanting to stray to far from the familiarity of the theater district and Times Square in all of it’s grubby, overrated glory.

Charlie doesn’t assume he’d even crossed your mind since you parted ways Saturday. He figures you’re busy, that you aren’t looking for anything because you’re just fine on your own or maybe you’re with somebody else. He doesn’t chance snooping on your social media to break the lovely reverie dancing in his head as he falls asleep Saturday, Sunday, and Monday evening. The one where he gets to start over, gets to start a relationship that’s based in equal footing and rationality rather than fear and chaotic emotions and limelight. 

Little does he know that you’ve been thinking about him too, your mind reeling with the same possibilities for yourself. It scared you more than anything that you’d even begun to entertain those types of thoughts.

You knew he’d just come off of an ugly divorce. Hell, you knew who he was when you had plopped down next to him and caught a glimpse of his furrowed brow and broad shouldered stature. You hadn’t expected someone as busy as him, as important as him to be here with the rest of you, all minor players in the theater world for the most part. You certainly hadn’t expected to enjoy your time with him and dance almost the whole way home because you were so excited that you’d been given the opportunity to see him again. 

Was it worth asking him to hang out after the meeting? Would he laugh in your face? Turn you down politely and tell you he’d see you at your next assigned training session? Would he ignore it and walk out to meet someone else and kiss them under the lights of the marquees? 

You spent the whole meeting wondering how you would ask him, if you would even ask him. You worked on autopilot, completely preoccupied with stealing glances across the room at Charlie, joking with Charlie during breaks, brushing Charlie’s hand when you passed him paper...Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

“Nice work tonight.” A baritone voice pulls you from your thoughts and you glance up to see the man himself, eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiles down at you while the cast filters back stage.

You start to clean things up, trying to busy yourself so you don’t put your foot in your mouth. “You too, Charlie.” You hum, mentally kicking yourself because wow were you lame. You could have said anything else and you just echoed his words instead? Your chances were slipping right through your fingers.

He picks at lint on his sweater that isn’t even there, kicks some invisible object as he watches you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before last weekend? Charlotte told me you’ve been with Schubert for awhile now and both of my shows have been in Schubert buildings. So’s my third.”

“You were talking to Charlotte about me?” You ask, head snapping up with a shit eating grin. He was talking about you with other people?

Charlie’s cheeks go bright red and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. He stumbles over his words, tries to come up with any other explanation to hide the truth of why he had asked Charlotte about you. Before he could say anything else, you swallow your nerves, then stand up straighter. 

“Because maybe I’ve been talking to her about you.” You shrug — you hadn’t really. Hell, you don’t even know why the words came out of your mouth. 

His eyes sparkle a bit as he tilts his head. “Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

The man standing across from you grabs an armful of infographics and slips them into the box that was meant to go to the head of house, to have on hand for people interested in donating. “Charlotte mentioned you liked pizza.” He says and, of course, it couldn’t have been true, you didn’t know Charlotte that well, but you appreciated the effort.

You smile and take a step forward, looking him up and down shyly. “Maybe I do.”

Charlie snorts, rolls his eyes, then nudges you playfully for good measure as he prays that he’s reading the room correctly. “Well maybe you’d want to get some with me?”

You half hear the question. He’s so handsome and you wonder if he knows it. If he knows he’s had you weak at the knees since the minute you’d made eye contact with him Saturday. “Maybe I’d like that.” You say, eyes round and full of wonder.

He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s a date then.”

“You want to call it a date?” Butterflies are now running rampant in your stomach.

“Maybe.”

You’re both grinning from ear to ear now, faces hot and hands sweaty and shaking. “If you’re calling it a date, then yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

So Charlie takes you across the street and you each eat half a pizza, laughing over cheap wine and talking about how snooty actors could be. How demanding the stage door was. Your respective backgrounds in theater, his early success, your acceptance of the fact that you wouldn’t make it big and it was better to just settle into marketing and still be in the industry. Job security and such. 

He takes your hand outside of the restaurant as you lead him toward the local bakery that sells cookies fresh from the oven.

You intertwine your fingers with his while you stand in line for hot chocolate as dusk turns to night in Central Park.

He kisses you after wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth on the Brooklyn bound A train a half hour later. And again on your stoop when you finally arrive home. 

He kisses you another time after he gives you his number and then once more when he realizes he’s only a ten minute walk from your apartment.

After heading upstairs, showering, doing some dirty dishes, and then plopping onto your bed, you smile when you see three texts from Charlie on your phone’s lock screen. Was it cliché to say that he had swooped in and fixed everything? Yeah and he didn’t fix anything really. He’d kissed you a few times and held your hand, sure, and he seemed like he wanted more. You wanted more too, but that didn’t mean that you were healed.

All you did know was that the hopeless romantic in you was louder than they had been for the better part of two years and you couldn’t stop smiling and wondering if it was coincidence that you had plopped down next to Charlie Barber during the meeting. Was it coincidence that the barista had taken longer with your latte that morning or was it fate telling you to take a deep breath and hold on tight because in a matter of minutes, you’d be meeting someone special.

[fiveisnumber1]

Because I have no shame about cluttering your inbox and cuz this is cathartic to me since it's finals season and among final project papers I actually enjoy writing all this... Here's a full breakdown of Lover of Mine by 5SOS in regards to Five and Reader. 😃 You can actually copy paste this with my previous response instead of posting it twice if you feel that's easier for you btw.

Lover of mine. Maybe we'll take some time. Kaleidoscope mind, Gets in the way. Hope and I pray. Darling, that you will stay. Butterfly lies Chase them away. Hmm.

This part is purely Five. His "kaleidoscope mind" is employed in different directions. Escaping the commission, saving his family, stopping the apocalypse. It gets in the way of his reunion with the reader and he hopes that she will stay despite his flakiness just until he has saved the world and time to give to her.

Dance around the living room. Lose me in the sight of you. I've seen the red, I've seen the blue. Take all of me. Lead to where your secrets are. Where we've been a thousand times. Swallow every single lie. Take all of me.

I feel like Red here could mean Blood and Blue as in Depression or PTSD. This part is the reader asking Five to open up about his trauma. She's patiently waiting and "swallowing his lies" aka his secrecy. She's waiting for him to open up because they're the only ones for each other. It's where they've been a thousand times, as in, always there for each other no matter what. She'll wait for him and until he can open up they can be the people who they used to be and "dance around the living room" and lose themselves in the sight of each other. Simply existing as the best friends they were before everything went sideways is the reprieve they've both longed for.

I'll never give you away. 'Cause I've already made that mistake. If my name never fell off your lips again, I know it'd be such a shame. When I take a look at my life And all of my crimes. You're the only thing that I think I got I right. I'll never give you away. 'Cause I've already made, Already made that mistake

So this portion is Five's again. He never wants to give up reader again like he had to when he was stuck in the apocalypse. He's already made that mistake and regrets is deeply. He's terrified that she'd reject him and no longer want anything to do with him cuz of all he's put her through. First with stranding her in time and then with ignoring her in favor of preventing the apocalypse. He's terrified she'd never say his name again and that she'd be better off without him. When he looks back on his mistakes: jumping through time with her when he wasn't ready, getting them both stuck, becoming a murder machine for the commission, endangering his family though them cuz he's trying to prevent the apocalypse he feels terrible. So he feels like coming back to reader after so long and saving her and his brothers and sisters is the only worthwhile thing he's managed to accomplish.

Lover of mine. I know you're colorblind. I watched the world fall from your eyes. Ooh. All my regrets And things you can't forget. Light them all up. Kiss them goodbye.

So this is Reader again. She knows Five is 'colorblind'. I take this to mean his perceptions are skewed. He's wildly traumatized and has seen a lot of stuff that has scarred him and took an impact on him socially as well. He's also got a pretty low esteem of himself as far as his relationship with the reader and his siblings is concerned cuz he keeps blaming himself for not getting everything right (esp in S2). She watched him as he fought against the apocalypse multiple times. She watched him fear for her and his family if the world were to fall. She wants him to forget all the regrets, both his and hers, and let it go. To light it up and leave it behind, as much as can be done, so there's no more pain and hauntings of the past now that they're finally back together which is the real important thing and not how they got to where they are. She knows he can't forget the apocalypse but she does want him to forget the self blame and helplessness he associates with it.

Sooooo... There we are 🤓😁 I hope you liked this extensive song analysis once more. The more I listen to songs, the more ideas come to mind and then I can't not voice the so thanks for allowing me to send them. Hopefully you won't get fed up of this 😅

Lover of mine. Maybe we'll take some time. Kaleidoscope mind, Gets in the way. Hope and I pray. Darling, that you will stay. Butterfly lies Chase them away. Hmm.

So I took this as the reader trying to help Five adjust to being and wanting her to stay with him. She understands that things will take time to even get remotely to “normal” but his running around and not telling her what’s going on gets in the way. So she wants to get rid of whatever is troubling him in hopes that he’ll stay with her.

Dance around the living room. Lose me in the sight of you. I've seen the red, I've seen the blue. Take all of me. Lead to where your secrets are. Where we've been a thousand times. Swallow every single lie. Take all of me

I felt this was something that could apply both to the reader and Five. They have both been through some rough stuff and now here they are in each other’s sights again. The two of them want to be as close as they were before they were separated and accept everything the other person has become but they’re still hiding their feelings. So they’re asking the other to lead them to their secrets so that they can be fully open about everything and “take all of (each other)”

I'll never give you away. 'Cause I've already made that mistake. If my name never fell off your lips again, I know it'd be such a shame. When I take a look at my life And all of my crimes. You're the only thing that I think I got I right. I'll never give you away. 'Cause I've already made, Already made that mistake

For this section, I also want to focus on the lines of “When I take a look at my life And all of my crimes. You're the only thing that I think I got I right.” because I don’t think Five’s “crimes” are only just what you listed. I completely agree with those being mistakes but I’d even go further as to say that he feels the reader is the ONLY thing he got right. Five was never happy to be a part of the academy, he was forced to do the bidding of Reginald as a child soldier. His whole life except for the reader has been a series of trauma and mistakes so much so that he feels the singular thing that he did right was bringing the reader into his life.

Lover of mine. I know you're colorblind. I watched the world fall from your eyes. Ooh. All my regrets And things you can't forget. Light them all up. Kiss them goodbye.

Okay so for these lines I actually took them as coming from Five’s perspective with “lover of mine, I know you’re colorblind” meaning both that the reader doesn’t quite see all that he’s went through but the reader also doesn’t acknowledge the things that he felt he did “wrong” because in her mind he hasn’t done “wrong”. With the lines “I watched the world fall from your eyes.”, Five was the reader’s world and he had to watch the reader die. “All my regrets And things you can't forget. Light them all up. Kiss them goodbye.” With this, I feel it is Five addressing the things that he regrets such as his arrogance the day he jumped and pulling the reader through time and abandoning her. He is also thinking of the things the reader can���t forget...the harsh words he said to her before disappearing and the fact that she thought he was mad at her all those years. Lighting those things up and kissing them goodbye is his way of showing that he’s trying to move on and be better for the both of them

Sorry it’s so long! Hope you like it all though!

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 2

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

Words: 3810

"So how do we do this?" Sam asked.

He was brushing his teeth with the door open so he could glance at Bucky, who sat on the edge of Sam's bed. He was going to give his friend the bed back once they fully decided to go to sleep and Bucky took the couch, again, but for now, he was enjoying the comfort of a bedroom. He always did find comfort in Sam and his hospitality, after all. He remembered that one Christmas the Barnes spent in the French Alps, the one Bucky avoided because he had just broken up with Rumlow for the first time; Sam was kind enough to invite him to the Wilsons for the holidays, and that was when Bucky realized where his friend got his charm and kindness. Sam's entire family were the most welcoming people Bucky had ever encountered, which made him wish he had been born into a home like that.

As Sam spit the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, Bucky thought of the specificities of their plan. At the realization that, if his parents had sat through several different relationships with the same Brock Rumlow, they probably wouldn't blink at the sight of a new man, he felt that the plan wouldn't be too complicated after all.

"I don't know." He shrugged, "Can you pretend to be gay?"

While Bucky's question was asked nonchalantly, Sam received it like a suckerpunch. It was supposed to be an easy answer, however the topic was a delicate one for Sam. Not that Bucky knew anything about it, but Sam kept a few secrets to himself. And since his friend had only ever seen him dating girls...

"Easy peasy." Sam faked a smile before cleaning his chin with a clean towel, "It's pretending I like you that's gonna be tough." He joked.

"Funny." Bucky said without a hint of amusement.

Eventually, Sam returned to his original concerns. The stakes weren't too high for him, but if Bucky got caught with this, he would never hear the end of it. Who knew what his parents would put him through, and Bucky had already mentioned something about being banned from the annual hunt for life, losing all hopes of ever getting the slightest fraction of Nana's money. Those two million dollars could mean everything to Bucky, so they really had to put on a show.

He walked back to his room and gestured his guest to give him some room, next to him. Bucky granted him the space, and they both sat in their own seriousness.

"No, but seriously, do we have to kiss and stuff?" Sam asked.

Bucky reflected on it.

"Maybe. I mean, we gotta make it believable."

The other man nodded, taking in the idea of kissing Bucky, even if just for an act, until Bucky's words caught him by surprise.

"Wanna practice?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, and cleared his throat with nervousness, "Uh, sure."

Nevertheless, he was met by a very amused Bucky, who happened to have been holding in his laughter. When he cracked up, falling back on the bed with pride on his own joke, Sam de-tensed.

"I'm kidding, dude." He threw a light punch to Sam's back, "We pro'ly won't even kiss through the entire week. Family's real uptight when they wanna be."

Sam let out a breath only he could hear, hopefully, and pretended to be comfortable with the entire situation.

"Okay, but if we do have to kiss, it better look real."

-

Day 1.

The time had come, and spirits weren't great. Sam had his shit together, luckily, but Bucky wasn't as confident. In the ride from the station to the lake house, they both sat at the back of the taxi, trying to prepare for the upcoming week. Eight full days of acting couldn't be too easy, but Sam was calm.

James looked the polar opposite, as he tried to keep his cool, mumbling to himself.

"Deep breaths." He told Sam like he was doing the calming for both of them, and it brought a small smirk to Sam's lips.

He watched his friend breathe in and out with his eyes closed, and he feared he might have a mental breakdown before they even got the chance to reach the house.

"Hey, I got this." He reminded Bucky, in attempts to ease his worries.

"God, I really hope you do."

Suddenly, the panoramic of the gigantic residence came to their field of vision. The two-story house had direct access to the lake, along with stored kayaks and sailing equipment. There was a -- floating there, unused, marking the family's possessions, and facing the big garden that separated the house from the water.

As soon as the vehicle stopped in the entrance, an employee came out to take care of their bags. Sam gave Bucky an odd look, himself not being used to maids and being served like that, to which Bucky only pressed his lips together. That's the Barnes way.

"Oh, come inside!" Bucky's mother welcomed them, ushering them inside.

They both obeyed and walked up the three steps to the door, finally entering the house. Before either of them got the chance to speak, though, Winnifred began theatricalizing.

"You poor things, it's so hot outside!" she lamented while pressing a hand to her chest.

Bucky tried, and failed, to reject her drama, "It's not that-"

"You must be Samuel." She ignored her son, and continued to ramble over Sam's attempts to at least say hello, "You want a drink? It's too hot."

The guest eyed Bucky, who was just staring into nothingness. If his eyes could speak, they would have been saying 'yep, sounds about right.'

"Uh, sure." Sam accepted, "Thank you, ma'am. I'm so glad-"

"There he is!" he was cut off by Bucky's father, who walked into the welcoming hall with his arms extended, "The man of the hour."

The two men shook hands.

"Sir." Sam nodded.

"Oh, please, it's George."

Sam opened his mouth to say something polite, when the woman interrupted him once more.

"And Winnifred." She added.

This time, Sam waited for a gap in the conversation. He hadn't been able to lay out a single sentence to the married couple, so he awkwardly waited for them to interrupt him, but when the silence extended for too long, he smiled, nervously.

"George and Winnifred, then." He agreed, nodding, "It's nice to meet you."

"James tells me you teach." Winnifred jumped right into the discussion.

"I do." Sam smiled, "History."

"Which school?"

"Mom, don't be a snob." Bucky warned her.

"I'm just asking him a question." She pledged innocence, as usual.

As much as the question of academic elitism bothered Sam, he had to remain polite. He hated gratifying rich people like that by disclosing the snob university where he worked. Sometimes he wanted to quit and go back to where he started, small high schools, poorly funded programs... for now, though, he had unpaid student debt and a two million dollar hunt to win.

"It's alright." He bit back his pride and dismissed it, "I'm teaching at Princeton right now."

Winnifred raised her eyebrows with one half excitement and one half surprise.

"That's a fine school." She showed how impressed she was.

The woman probably thought Bucky couldn't do better than the family friend business trash. She probably figured her son was too stupid for a Princeton professor, much less to settle down with one. It didn't add to the bad image Sam already had of her.

"I have some contacts in Harvard, could get you a spot." George butt in.

"Dad."

"Thank you, sir, that's not necessary." Sam rejected very gracefully, "I love my job and I certainly can't leave my students."

George gave him a respectful nod, while Winnifred gave his son a look, one that yelled well done. The interaction had gone better than any of them had expected, making Bucky forget every concern he had before. When they moved to the living room, which was right next door, the fake couple exchanged some victorious glances. Feeling much more confident now, Bucky pointed to the old lady sitting at the end of the room.

"Sam, I'm honored to introduce you to Nana Barnes." He dramatized in order to annoy the woman.

She looked like the kind of grandmother who had strong opinions on people and therefore, favorites, and Bucky sure acted like the favorite, teasing her with the confidence that she wouldn't mind. Nana didn't bother standing up. She was wearing a conservative black dress, reading glasses and she held a glass of Champaign on her hand. The matriarch look suited her wonderfully.

"I've heard many good things." Sam approached her, extending his hand.

While shaking the young man's hand, Nana eyed him up and down.

"You're handsome." She said in a powerful tone, "Much better looking than the last one."

Nervously, Sam fixed his tie and cleared his throat.

"Thank you." He frowned amusingly, not sure if he was meant to take the compliment or not.

"Are you an idiot like him?"

Sam tilted his head, "Excuse me?"

"That Rumlow boy, he was an ass. Couldn't tell his south from his north. Now, are you a smart man?"

Sam looked back at Bucky, who merely gave him a thumbs up as he backed away and left the two alone. It was only then that Sam noticed Bucky's parents had abandoned him as well. He accepted his situation, and sat down on the chair next to her.

"I... like to think so." He smiled, "I sure hope so, or else I'm teaching the next generation to be just as dumb."

"Ah, so I've heard." She spoke like it was the first thing she fully approved of, "It's a nice break from all the dull business men in our family. Is Jamie planning to live off your Princeton check?"

This time, the harsh question caught him less off-guard, "No, ma'am, I'm just helping him get back on his feet."

The lady narrowed her eyes like she was quizzing the new boyfriend.

"How long have you known my grandson?"

The fake couple had prepared a whole concocted tale, but right there, in front of the matriarch who worshipped the truth, he figured telling her the real story wouldn't hurt.

"I don't even know. Probably... six years?" the realness behind his words made Nana seem interested, "We met through other people, next thing I know we're best friends for good. Couldn't shake him off my back."

The woman laughed, "He can't help it, the Barnes have bloodsucker in their DNA."

Bucky had mentioned at some point, how the woman referred to the Barnes as simply the family she had married into when it came to pointing out their flaws, yet called herself a Barnes when it suited her. Sam, however, held in any type of snarky comment or laughter, and made an effort to remain excessively polite. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the façade for long, or at least not for the entire week, so he made sure to make the best first impression possible.

"No, Bucky's not like that.” He defended the man, although he immediately decided against contradicting the matriarch; he raised one hand in retreat, “I mean, you've known him all his life, so what do I know? But, uh… he's not that kind of friend."

The last word brought a smear of annoyance to the woman’s features, considering Sam had used it twice already.

"You can say boyfriend, Samuel, I'm not a prude." She protested.

Suddenly, Sam realized he was being too genuine. The way he spoke about Bucky was so truthful, he forgot for a second that he was meant to pretend to be his loving partner.

"Yes, boyfriend. Sorry."

In the welcoming hall, Bucky was thanking the service for getting his bags upstairs. He noticed a taxi parked outside, and he figured his cousin or one of his uncles had arrived, but as he wiped sweat from his forehead, the door opened, and his sister Rebecca walked in. As to be expected, she was dressed to impress in a light blue skirt and a sunny hat, wearing the additional drops of sweat that fell down her neck like an accessory.

"What are you doing here?” Bucky ambushed her, not too happy to see her, “You said you wouldn't make it."

The young woman didn’t seem offended by her welcoming, for she knew she was about to lie.

"I decided to spend some time with my family." She smiled brightly, reaching to hug her brother.

"Bull.” He stopped her. “What happened?"

Rebecca sighed, "Why do you always assume something's happened?"

"Because I'm the one picking up your slacks and shoving it under the rug." Bucky spat, looking around to check that nobody was listening.

"My hero." She rolled her eyes.

"Someone has to keep making you look perfect."

The words hit her, but she didn’t wince. Her face fell minimally, which was her own way of accepting it. Bucky was right, after all, because for years he had helped her out in every singl one of her fuck-ups, never asking for anything back, which resulted in their parents beliving their little girl to be a practical angel, while James remained the family screw up. The thing was, both siblings were emotional trainwrecks, but Bucky was the only one who got any backlash for it.

"So what was it?” he asked again, this time much more relaxed, “Boyfriend? Boyfriend's wife?"

"Actually...” Rebecca lowered her voice, “It's money. I need to win the hunt this year."

Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. Rebecca had only joined the family vacations to ruin his plans.

"I need to win the hunt this year." He was quick to shake his head.

"You don't understand, I owe a shit ton or money, James.” Unfortunately, his sister was just as enthusiastic about her own issues, “It's bad."

"Then get a loan from dad." He proposed in a very order-like tone, for he knew their father would give Rebecca money, while never offering Bucky a penny.

"He can't know I'm in debt!" she whisper-shouted.

Bucky took a deep breath and massaged his temples, still in disbelief that they were in this situation to begin with. He had brought his best friend into this, for all sakes. He couldn’t lose the money to his little sister. He wanted to explain to her how he was penny-less and had been enduring their parent’s hellfire for weeks, but Rebecca already knew that, and if that alone didn’t bring out her empathy, no amount of persuasion would. He wanted to tell her exactly what kind of treatment he had received in their parent’s house, but of course, Rebecca must have already guessed.

As much as he wanted to keep fighting, Sam joined them, and the two siblings were distracted from the argument.

"Samuel Wilson, why on earth are you in this shithole?"

Sam was baffled, as they hadn’t even spent half an hour there, and things were already not going according to plan. Bucky had sworn Rebecca wouldn’t be there, which was good, because Rebecca knew Sam and she knew that their relationship was not at all romantic.

"Good to see you too." He said, trying his best to ignore her obvious confusion and walking closer to Bucky, "Uh, your folks-"

"Sweetheart, you made it!" Winnifred’s exclamation echoed across the room.

"Of course, mama." Rebecca faked enthusiasm as she opened her arms.

"I see you've met Jamie's boyfriend." The siblings’ mother remarked as she gave Rebecca a quick hug.

Even before the contact was over, Rebecca was frowning.

"Boyfriend?"

Think, quickly.

"Yes, boyfriend. “ Bucky said loudly; perhaps too loudly to be believable, “We didn't wanna say. Thanks for ruining the newsbreak, mom." He faked discourage.

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest, "No, you're not."

Desperate to play it out, Sam pressed a hand to the low of Bucky’s back, in an attempt to show affection and commodity with one another. Bucky, however, froze a little, because it was the first time Sam had done something like that and it felt more than just odd.

"We sure are." Sam grinned.

"Yeah, it just..." Bucky failed to imitate his fake boyfriend’s confidence as he scratched his brow and struggled with words, "Just sort of happened. We were going to tell you."

The room went silent, and Rebecca definitely wasn’t convinced. In fact, she saw straight through both of them and deciphered the truth behind the masquerade in a matter of seconds, which didn’t amuse her at all. They were going to take her prize away.

"Bucky's cheating." She said.

"Excuse me?” Winnifred opened her eyes wide, offended at what the accusation implied.

"At the hunt.” The young woman continued, earning a pleading look from her brother, who begged her not to out his lies; thankfully, she proceeded with a mocking tone, “He knows Nana's biased for couples, so he dragged his boyfriend to this freakshow."

Both Sam and Bucky felt like they had been given a second life, and they quickly laughed it off to dissimulate. Winnifred made a comment about her daughter’s choice of words while they all moved back to the living room, and although what had just happened was a sign that Rebecca wouldn’t out them, all three involved never got their eyes off each other.

-

Dinnertime was an event for the whole family. Others had arrived with their own luggage, setting three different generations in one table. Sam could only feel how strongly out of place he was, among the fancy drinks and conversations about business and family companies. He was learning a hell of a lot about Bucky’s family, though. The fortune was earned by the parents of the deceased grandfather, and he had been the one to ‘make them all rich assholes’, according to Bucky’s words.

"Aside from us and Becca, everyone here just wants to win the hunt for their ego.” He explained in whispers, leaning closer to Sam to not be overheard by the rest of the family, “It's just a fun tradition to them."

"I bet it's fun, getting four millions a year." Sam snorted quietly.

It made Bucky laugh, which got the attention of his aunt. She eyed the couple like they were just so cute together, and it only then occurred to Bucky that maybe they did.

"Oh, I forgot about Uncle Milo.” He gestured to an old and nice-looking man at the other end of the table. “Grandpa Theodore's brother, he's after the fortune."

Sam didn’t believe his friend, for it sounded like cliché rich family drama, something out of a soap opera. However, the young Barnes explained that the cliché was real, and that Uncle Milo had gambled his share of the fortune away, so he maintained his proximity to Nana in a desperate attempt to get it all back, the money, the house, everything. He soon continued explaining the rest of the less relevant characters: George's brother Teddy and his wife Andrea, who had a son about their age; cousin Colin. He was a dull creature and he looked like he'd come out of a Lacoste magazine, both him and his Ivy-league-college-sweetheart fiancée did. The third Barnes sibling was Aunt Ida, who had no children but was happily divorced.

“Are we all done with desert?” Nana stood up from her chair.

Cousin Colin raised his fork to speak and say that he hadn’t, but Nana didn’t seem to care.

“Wonderful. Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“No speech, Nana?” Bucky teased her.

“No, you’re all well aware. Except for Samuel, but he’s a smart man, he’ll catch up.” She winked at him.

That was apparently a good sign. She liked Sam.

“The first clue is very easy: just the meaning behind it all.” The woman chuckled at the end of her sentence, earning a few confused looks, “I didn’t hide it very well. You’ll find it if you search for it.”

Every guest remained seated. Knowing the woman, she wasn’t kidding, and this was just a riddle they were supposed to decipher, but they never failed to give her the benefit of the doubt that perhaps, just maybe one time, she would give them a real clue instead of messing with them as much as she could. Nana raised her glass of Champaign as a toast.

“Happy Hunting.” She smirked to the glass before chugging it down.

-

They seemed to be walking around aimlessly, just as the rest of the participants. This sounded like more of a mental riddle to fix by themselves, instead of an actual clue that was hidden somewhere. Bucky had the idea to look around grandpa Theodore’s old room in search for something emotional, although that didn’t sound like Nana, but she had told them to look for the meaning behind it all- she could have meant the meaning of the hunt. When Sam’s brain clicked, he grabbed Bucky’s arm to stop him.

"I got an idea." He announced.

Bucky glanced down at his arm, which was still being held by Sam.

"What're you thinking?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing you guys have a library?"

Bucky nodded, "Smart."

Once they found the library, they were submerged in stillness. They shut the door so they wouldn’t give anyone else the same idea, and turned on the lights; the room was probably the calmest one in the entire house. There were high shelves with old books, two dusty reading chairs and a coffee table. Sam figured he wouldn’t mind spending some time there.

"What are we looking for?" James asked in a low voice.

Sam ran his fingers through the shelves for a few seconds, lurking for that one specific piece of literature he had in mind.

“Viktor Frankl.” Sam mumbled, concentrated on his task.

When he found the title, he pulled the book out and offered it to Bucky. Man’s search for meaning, 1946. It was too classical for fancy college men not to have heard of it, but the riddle was a tad too complicated for them. It was as if Nana had expected Sam to guess it first. Bucky caressed the cover, taking in the title and internally understanding the joke. The meaning behind it all. You’ll find it if you search for it.

He let a soft chuckle escape his lips as he opened the book and searched through the pages. Sam leaned in too close, over his shoulder, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel weird at the sensation of Sam’s breath hitting the back of his neck. He didn’t believe it was okay to even notice that sort of thing.

Suddenly, an envelope fell from the book, and Bucky looked back at Sam with amusement.

“That tricky old hag.” He laughed.

-

A/N: I know this wasn’t too exciting lol but it was more of an introduction chapter:/ next part will have your much needed fluff and intensity! Thank you so much for reading xx

[toneelspeelster]

portraying trauma, a skam and remakes comparison

disclaimer: i’ll start this by saying this meta will be critical of the way wtfock portrayed their version of a traumatic experience (the gay bashing). if you do not want to engage with criticism on this, i’d advise you not to read. this will also discuss only a few versions (skam, druck, skam nl and wtfock) in particular because i didn’t want to make it too long and because i feel these versions deal with trauma in an interesting way. 

common reactions

in any case, i’d like to start with common reactions after experiencing a traumatic event, be it a sexual assault, emotional assault, physical assault etc.

1. anxiety and fear 2. re-experiencing of the trauma. 3. increased vigilance 4. avoidance 5. anger 6. guilt/shame 7. grief/depression 8. self image and view of the world is negative, trust is difficult. 9. difficulty with sexual relationships 10. substance abuse (i’d include negative coping mechanisms here too).  source

now, i mention this not because i think every remake hits these but rather because i want people to see what commonly happens after traumatic events to people and how wtfock in one instance (robbe/sander) misses the mark completely while in another (zoe) it actually sort of works. and how other remakes have dealt with the subject matter. 

first off: skam

to start with even’s traumatic experience and his response. i’m starting with even mostly because it’s the original series, not necessarily bc i think it’s the most elegant portrayal (bc it’s definitely not). but in essence, what it does show is the effect of a traumatic event in the long run. even’s experience at bakka, where he kissed one of his friends he had a crush on; who rejected him; even being in a manic episode; resulting in a suicide attempt and his self inforced isolation from his best friends by going to another school and ignoring their messages - it’s touched upon in his initial season but expanded in season 4. and still at least one year later, still even freezes up in fear immediately after seeing his friends. even is incredibly anxious; it’s clear he’s recalling past memories he’s been trying to avoid for forever; he feels immensely guilty (he wants to see elias, he really does, he just doesn’t know how) and even though i think even’s self image is not necessarily the result of this experience, it does have an even more negative effect on his self-image. even has difficulties liking himself, seeing worth in himself, even in season 4. after reconciling w him (however that even went we don’t know) he appears in one of their vlogs and still you can see how uncomfortable it makes him to talk about it. but, this is what it ends on: you see the strength of even reaching out to those he loves and for them being able to reach out to him too. in the end, it’s healing. it is discussed throughout the season.

 then, numbers two: druck and skam nl

i’m combining these two in one entry bc i feel like these two portrayals deal with the repercussions of traumatic experiences to the life of these two very well. 

first off, we have david, who came out as transgender at a previous school and was met with intense transphobic reactions; deadnaming, invasive personal questions and just generally awful treatment by people - it resulted in david feeling very unsafe, difficulties sleeping and hiding and running away in the hopes of avoiding these situations. it affects his world view of the world as unkind, and him forcing himself to be okay with being alone bc the only one he trusts is himself. he doesn’t let people too close (wanting to stay anonymous) and when matteo breaks up with sarah he runs bc matteo is getting too close. and then, it happens again. he’s outed on social media in his new school, having difficulties even doing his exams bc his teacher is being a transphobic dick and he’s scared of both him and the kids at school. he then, after staying with his godmother, hides himself away at an unsafe, abandoned pool and even staying there for a night. 

then, we have liv. earlier in her life, she’s implied to have had an eating disorder - a traumatic experience in itself. and although she seems very aware of her needing to be careful not to fall into those patterns again, it unfortunately does come to the front again when faced with the fact that she’s been sexually assaulted in her sleep and it’s been filmed without consent. as an eating disorder survivor, i’d say her body is already something she might have difficulties with. to combine that with sexual assault.. it results in liv isolating herself at home, resorting to doing her white(!) laundry multiple times in one week and her stress baking cookies only for her to give them to her roommates. her mum even asks her if she’s eating well - for a mother who seems emotionally and physically distant otherwise, liv must’ve not sounded well. even when she seems a little bit better, engel still comes over to check up on liv and cook for her. engel has similar ed experiences so she knows it’s not something that’s just gone one second to the next. 

these portrayals work well bc it is clear that their experiences have become a detriment to their view of the world and result in them resorting to very unhealthy coping mechanisms. they both clearly feel the loss of control, the triggering of (past) experiences; the avoidance and the isolation. liv feels immense shame, david feels immense anger and fear - they both have difficulties trusting people, even the ones they care about the most. 

but, in the end? 

david does let matteo subtly know where he is, bc he knows matteo will see him and find him. matteo calls him even out on it: you are not a damned vampire who needs to hide away, he says - something that david didn’t even see about himself until matteo told him. he finds support in matteo and all of his friends and his sister. he doesn’t need to be alone anymore. 

and liv? she tells her friends about her troubles eventually, and they support her wholeheartedly, telling her it’s not her fault and flashing boobs while doing so. liv finds the strength to confront her attacker and blackmailing him, and eventually her boyfriend tells her she needs to go to the police to report his brother. 

these are both david’s season-long storyline and liv’s multiple episode storyline (all her clips for the first week after her experience focus solely on this). it’s healing to see this happen to survivors of these experiences. 

as a ender: wtfock

i think it’s important to establish first that this is first and foremost about robbe/sander’s gay bashing. robbe and sander have been dating approximately three days when they are violently and verbally assaulted and seemingly left for dead in antwerp’s streets. the next episode makes a point of robbe and sander being hurt badly with bruises and cuts and black eyes, robbe doesn’t sleep much and is irritated quickly and sander has a very weird reaction to violence in general and doesn’t want to go to the police. later, robbe is scared that sander was put off by the idea of going to the police, that he felt forced. within that same first episode, robbe tells milan the true story and zoe a little off story and they react sympathetically, zoe even offering her doctor. robbe’s mum’s psych also refers him to a therapist and he calls her. 

but then the storyline, after episode 6? it ends? milan seems to weirdly reference it sometimes but it doesn’t come to any conclusion in the end. after reconciling sander and robbe have no trouble kissing in front of everyone. there’s no sense of robbe or sander having internalised a different world view after this experience. they even never discuss it ever again after that first week. robbe going to a therapist is not even shown or referenced at all, even with the opportunity being there with social media updates. there’s no real repercussions, except for loss of sleep and sander maybe sort of seeing it as a way of destroying something time and again but that’s more his world view bc of his mental illness i’d say. it’s a storyline for one episode, that’s it. and with how irresponsibly they portrayed it by not immediately showing them being alright or together or taken care off but waiting hours for an update, it triggered a hella lot of audience members instead. as a bisexual woman myself, i felt scared watching that. 

zoe’s storyline of having to testify even got more of an appropriate portrayal as she’s scared to testify and also feels pushed by the people who love her the most (milan and senne). her breaking up w senne feels more an actual genuine decision bc of messed up feelings about the whole situation (senne being quite... aggressive with how he approaches her about it sometimes.. it felt like he wanted it for himself mostly, not for her). her not being able to sleep and feeling exhausted, months after the actual traumatic experience happened. it has an effect on her and how she responds and how she makes decisions.

conclusion

experiences like these have repercussions. but apparently in belgium only sexual assault results in trauma. gay bashing doesn’t. it had no true purpose except to educate straight people about the plight of lgbt people being attacked violently. but, as people far more eloquent than i have said, why? homophobes will not watch this series and suddenly turn around. and the world is damned if people just don’t realise that beating up people is bad and shouldn’t happen. 

the true purpose of skam is to teach people of all kinds, and to show people of a certain minority, community or with same/different life experiences that there is hope, and a lot more to them than just what they have experienced. now even the good portrayals could have all benefitted from telling the audience that it’s good and okay to go to therapy about this... but at least they didn’t shy away from a storyline that shows how deep this runs for people. they devoted time to it.

and that’s all wtfock really needed to do if wanting to make a point by including this. they didn’t. it’s sensational fodder at best. and i think that the characters as well as the audience?

they deserved better than that. 

[bippityboppitybibuck]

Scarred Bark, Broken Heart

15x18 coda/alternate ending of sorts || WC 2580, also read on AO3 here

MCD, depressed Dean, (Tree!Cas ???), brief mention of suicidal tendencies, open but hopeful ending, part one of a two part series, Canon divergence

Dean doesn't know what made him decide on the tree. They didn’t have a body to burn, not this time. They didn’t have a six-foot hole to dig and he felt odd putting a marker over unmarred earth. So when he stumbled upon a tree in the woods surrounding the bunker, one with a beehive tucked nine feet up he didn’t even realize he had popped out his pocket knife and started carving until the first three letters were written in the wet bark.

His throat burned as he worked. The same knife sliced skin wide so that protection could be painted onto a door that was never going to hold. Cas was always ready to bleed for him, always ready to do whatever he needed to keep him safe.

Tears threatened to ruin his work by blocking his field of view but each time he tilted his head to the sky and tried to breathe through it.

The squared-off letters seem to mock him once he finishes, if Cas’d been here the letters would have been beautiful, a burst of power and it could have been script etched into the wood. Instead, it's his blocky ugly writing.

Something hideous rears its head in his chest, and staring at the letters, staring at the name. He always deserved more than Dean could give him, than this world could give him. He deserves more than a scar in some bark in a forest hardly anyone treks into. He deserves more than to die without knowing—to die thinking he wasn’t loved.

Dean doesn't look to the sky as his eyes fill again. Sam always said he needed to let himself feel. That ignoring your trauma isn't the same as dealing with it. But he worries that if he gives into it fully he’ll never resurface. Drowned in his own mind with the pain and regret, the fear and the sadness that washes in like the tide when his guard drops.

So he doesn’t let himself sink, he treads as best he can, hearing Bobby’s gruff voice in his head just like when he was a kid, ‘keep your ears above water son, that’s the only way to make sure you stay alive out there’, it’s like Bobby knew exactly why he needed that information. Like he knew it wasn't about swimming.

He’s not sure how long he spends looking at the carving, or when the wind picks up and shakes shivers through his body. He’s not sure when the tears dry and the wracking sobs take over.

Cas looked at peace when it came for him, and it ruins him to know that. To know that loving him brought him to the one moment of true happiness. Loving a worthless, broken, fucked up killer—no. No, Cas said he wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t a monster or a tool to be used and thrown aside, and yet he killed another hadn’t he? Killed him by doing nothing at all because that's what happens, that’s his legacy, people get close to him and they get killed. They always get killed.

Dean’s not sure when he heads inside again, or how he finds himself at the tree almost every day, week in and week out.

For the longest time he can do nothing but look, words that fight to break free, stay trapped behind the years of burying what he always felt, stay tapped behind the last dam he has standing in his soul the soul Cas saved—a good lot that did. He knows the dam won’t hold forever and all he can do is imagine the damage when it does finally break.

He doesn't always go alone either. Sam takes trips to the tree by himself sometimes but mostly he goes when Dean does. Jack trails after him every once in a while too but they usually let him go alone.

The first snow of the season begins to fall as he stands at the tree, the beehive long since gone dormant, its occupants burrowing in for their months-long sleep. And God how Dean envies their ability to escape reality for longer than it takes to sleep off a hangover.

It’s early for the first snow, weeks too soon but the world has been colder since—well since.

It’s been a while since he last talked while he visited, the dam broke finally or rather the levels grew too high on one side and it began to leak. Still, back then he hadn’t said much of anything.

He tries to talk now, he tries to do the same as what he did at his father's grave all those years ago trapped in a djinn dream, trapped in a world that seemed so perfect until he peeled back its layers. Kinda just like the one he actually lived in.

“Ca-s,” his voice breaks before he manages to speak the single syllable. No one is around to notice though, no matter how much he wishes he was speaking to a person instead of an unfeeling unrelenting piece of wood. Still though, it's easier to talk when no one is there to hear it, he doesn't have to hold as much back.

“Cas, I-,” Dean lets out a rough hum as he collects himself. This speech is going to be different. He can feel it, the emotions within him seem to grow choppy, spilling over the dam wall more and more and he just knows that whatever happens, he won’t be returning to the bunker whole.

“I keep thinking, y’know, back to that night you walked into that barn in Illinois, you told me that good things do happen, and I mean it’s not like I expected you to, but you didn’t believe me when I told you that nothing good happens to me. I don’t know if in the time from then to no—I don’t know if you ever figured out that I was right or not but I think that the one good thing that happened to me was the worst thing to happen to me too.” Dean stares at his name, willing it to actually be him. The cold bites at his fingers and his nose. His toes grow cold in his boots but he doesn’t move to leave he barely even feels it anyways.

“When Chuck told us that you were the one who never listened,” he chokes out a broken laugh, “it honestly made perfect sense, you did always say that it was our story, that we were the thing that was real in a world of manufactured realities. And when he said it I swear it was like I was standing in that ratty kitchen, minutes before Lucifer rose, minutes before you di—died for the first time. And I thought as Chuck went on and on how maybe I wasn’t dreaming it up, maybe it wasn't Chuck’s doing, and I was going to try to talk to you about it, after a shit ton of booze mind you.” He’s quiet for a long time, the snow begins to blanket the space around him and he thinks about how he’ll never get to brush snow off of the lapel of Cas’ stupid trench coat.

Just the thought starts a domino effect, his mind rushing through everything he wanted and everything he’ll never get now and it’s so overwhelming it sends him to his knees. Of course, because he clearly will never be able to catch a break all it does is remind him of the last time they were in purgatory together, the fear and heartbreak that shook him to his core, the devastation of Cas brushing off what he wanted to say because fuck it was so much more than his prayer.

“You beat me to it though, and then—well we both know what happened next.” His fingers are ice when they wipe the tears from his eyes. They jolt him, a shock to his system.

“You never gave me a chance to respond, didn’t even give me a damn moment to process any of it. And you’re a selfish son of a bitch for that because that wasn’t fair, that wasn’t—. I needed you to stay, I needed you to hear it too. I won’t ever be able to stay mad at you because I never have been, not for any of the shit you pulled in the past. But that? That was a new low.” He sniffles from the cold or from his tears he doesn't know but he does it all the same.

“Y’know if you were here right now you’d tell me to go inside because humans catch colds so easily and you don’t know how fucking much I need to hear that now Cas.” His heart plummets in his chest again. He feels sick all over again so he clenches his jaw to keep from heading too far down that road.

“I remember the first time you got sick, god you were a nightmare the entire time and I dealt with Sam getting sick every year since I was old enough to open kids cold medicine,” Dean laughs thickly, tears lodged in his throat. The strain of holding it all back shreds at the muscle and it screams with every breath he manages to shake into his lungs.

“I remember everything Cas, all of it, every fight, every drink, every goddamn time we looked at each other. And yet I can’t recall a fucking thing because I thought I had more time. After everything we’d gone through, I still thought we would have more time. It's all broken and jumbled and set to static and I can’t handle it because it's crystal clear and as muddy as anything because I thought I’d be able to make more, replace what got muddled. I thought you had more time.”

He shuffles around and presses his back against the trunk of the tree. His ass is uncomfortable as hell what with the roots and the wet cold earth below him but his knees appreciate the switch.

“I’m having a hard time this time because a part of me thinks just like it did after the whole leviathan fiasco. I swear you’re going to come back, that this is all a mix-up, that if I wait just a little longer, hold on a little longer, put my gun down just one more night that you’ll be back. But it’s been weeks Cas and nothing’s changed. I wake up and I go to sleep in a world that doesn’t have you in it and I was always okay before because you were just there even if I didn’t have you like I wanted I still got to see you, watch you, lo—be with you. But now it’s all empty, and no matter how ironically appropriate that is given the dumbass move you made a year and a half ago, I’m hanging on by a thread man. And Sam doesn't know how to help, even with all his dead girlfriends as experience to draw from.” He’s quiet for a long time, chewing on his lip, flexing his fingers together as he just sits.

“He says I need to stop making jokes to cover it all up but that's all I know how to do. I mean you can’t mourn your mom if you have a baby brother to take care of so you joke. You can’t talk about what the internet says is PTSD because there are monsters to hunt and people to save so you joke. You can’t let yourself be vulnerable because that means death so you joke. You can't tell your best friend what you need to so you joke. You hide behind something safe because no one wants you to show what's really there.” Dean's mind is a mess right now, jumping from one point to another, skipping ahead and falling behind. He has so much he wants to say and it’s like he’s trying to say it all at once.

He can almost hear Cas’ voice admonishing him for thinking that he didn't have a support system, that he didn't have people who loved him and wanted him to be okay and it strips him raw. Because it’s only been a few months, how could he already be forgetting his voice, or which way he tilted his head when he didn’t understand some random human action, which foot he started with when he stood up from a chair, if he liked smooth or crunchy peanut butter better even if it was all molecules to him, what his arms felt like wrapped around him, how he sighed when Dean was being an idiot, what his smiles looked like as he sat at their kitchen table talking with Jack.

How was he already forgetting all of the little things that made him fall for the fallen angel, heaven's most loved, heaven's most corrupted.

His chest is cracked so wide every part of him falls inside, his very soul falls into the pit, tumbles down and down and down because there are a million things that he and Cas will never get to do but there are a billion things Cas will never do again.

Sure Cas’ll never learn to dance but he’ll never smile again. He’ll never have the chance to memorize the words to the songs Dean showed him but he’ll never feel the sun on his skin again. Or laugh or cry or sleep in late. He’s never going to make another milk run, be it a monster hunt or an actual milk run. He’ll never watch another bee documentary or hug his son again.

Cas lived hundreds of millions of years and yet there was so much he left unfinished, he’s been around for eons and yet he still died too soon.

It takes him a moment to remember that even if Cas had been around since the Cambrian explosion in reality he’d only experienced humanity for eleven years. And all of it was spent fighting, shouldn't he get a fucking chance to just live for a fucking second. Let himself relax, shake the weight off his shoulders, just be finally?

Dean turns and looks from his position at Cas' name, the angle is atrocious so he can barely see the etchings.

There are a billion things he’ll never do again, a million things he’ll never get to experience. And for someone who's given all that Cas has given to this world, that just won’t do.

“You told me love drove me, you said that I fought for everything because of love, that I taught you how to and fuck Cas I don’t know how that's possible. But I’ve fought for nearly forty years because of love and there's no way in hell I am stopping that now. I’m going to fight for you, I’ll fight Chuck for you, I’ll fight against the anger that still lives inside me and dammit I’ll fight to get you back because no fucking way am I losing you forever after that speech. If love drives me Cas then you, you…” Dean takes a deep breath. “Happiness is in just saying it, but I can’t tell a piece of wood, so I’ll wait until you are back, because I will get you back. I don’t care what it takes. You need to hear it, you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know.”

I’m working on a rewritten ending for Supernatural that is set after this little alt ending to 15x18 because the actual ending... left a lot to be desired. Turns out spite was in fact enough to get me writing again! So that’s good right??

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Liminal Grief [1/3]

Rating: T Fandom: Stardew Valley Pairing: Shane/Female Farmer Tags: Pre-Relationship, Developing Friendship, Grief, Alcoholism, Depression Word Count: 10,613 (total) Summary: The new farmer has a level of equal-opportunity-friendliness that reminds Shane of an old friend, but when the mask comes off, it's more like looking in a mirror. Also on AO3. Notes: Very much based in the game, but littered with my own headcanons, both for this particular farmer and for Shane. Like other stories in this series, this could be considered standalone, but follows the same farmer (named Lydia) and the same Shane, and shares continuity with those other works.

It had taken a while—most of the spring, actually—but Lydia had finally fallen into a routine.

The routine involved sticking to the farm, mostly. It needed a lot of work—a lot of work she didn't know how to do. She spent her days trying to replicate the tips she'd unearthed in Granddad's old books, his journals on the seasons and crops, and her nights sleeping more soundly than she'd slept in her whole life.

It was hard work. Scary work. Every time she took hold of a weed, she prayed she wasn't about to pull up one of the precious crops she'd spent her dwindling money on. But she was getting through it.

And when she'd done all she could do for the day, there was always the distraction of town.

Thinking of Pelican Town's square that way—town, because the farm was technically in some kind of rural unincorporated area—always made her feel a little like some Austenian heroine, donning her gloves and coiffing her hair to visit civilization. In reality, the best she could muster was a shower before the long, dusty walk, but she'd always liked stories. Something she'd had in common with Granddad.

And this story was full of characters: the downtrodden but enduring mayor, the rebellious daughter of the local grocer, the hardworking big-city doctor, the gregarious saloon-owner…

As the days passed, and she made an effort to greet everyone with cheer, she got more and more back: brief small talk peppered into her days, friendly waves, smiles losing their wariness.

Well. From some people, at least. The runner-up town drunk sure hadn't taken to her friendliness so far.

Interactions with Shane followed, more or less, the same pattern as the first. She offered a pleasantry. He found a way to reject it.

When she crossed paths with him again at the bar on a Friday night: "Hey, Shane. How's it going?"

And in return: "Why are you bothering me." With his inflection, it sounded more like a complaint than a question. "I want to be alone."

On a Tuesday as she stood outside Pierre's, when Shane passed by on his way to JojaMart: "Nice day, isn't it?"

It would have been easy enough for him to agree and keep power-walking on by, but instead he said, "No, I don't have time to chat with you." Like she'd asked him to reflect in detail on the most recent Queen of Sauce episode.

But these were downright polite interactions compared to last week's, when she'd been fishing at the river south of the ranch, well after sundown. She'd spotted him walking home, weaving slightly on the beat-down dirt path, catching himself every few steps as if gravity was making its best effort against him.

"Hey," she called out, ignoring the tugging on her line, "are you okay?"

"What do you want from me?" he demanded, his whole body swinging around so that his red-rimmed eyes could glare at her. Once they'd managed to focus, anyway. "Money? I'd give you a pot of gold to leave me alone!"

"I could use a pot of gold, actually," she began, but he was already in motion again, stomping up the path to the ranch house and slamming the door behind him.

She certainly didn't need to keep putting herself out there. There were plenty of other people who were already nice enough to her, going on friendly, even: Gus and Emily, who were always excited when she brought in one of her crops for them to experiment with; Abigail, who came up with imaginative renovations for the farm Lydia now inhabited; Harvey, who was a bit distant but earnest.

But she'd seen the paths that Shane beat through Pelican Town. To JojaMart, hunched into his sweatshirt, scowling; to the saloon, no longer glowering but run down; to the ranch at the end of the night, a slow and meandering walk, like he already dreaded doing it all over again. She recognized the patterns. She hadn't been a shelf-stocker, but she knew a kindred soul. Another person caught on the conveyor belt of the corporate machine.

That was probably her dramatics again. Her character-profiling. Maybe Shane was just a grouch, happy to scare off anyone every opportunity he got. But on the off chance that that wasn't the case…

She wasn't going to stop saying hello just because he glared at her for it. Just in case.

On a Saturday night, as spring began to wilt beneath the pressure of summer, she donned her metaphorical white gloves and committed to a night at the saloon. She'd tried to keep working after sundown a few days this past week, but she still just didn't have the stamina for it; she felt like one of those limp weeds she kept tearing out of her land.

A drink was just what she needed. A drink, and maybe some food. Her stomach rumbled despite the meal she'd eaten at mid-afternoon; the smell inside the Stardrop was greasy, and cheesy, and tomato-y, and she drifted toward the counter, following the smell. Gus was busy chatting with Pam, but Emily noticed her right away and came over with a smile.

"Hey, Lydia!" she said. "You okay?"

Lydia blinked at the concern and picked up a nearby spoon to examine her own face. "I look that bad? I showered and everything."

Emily tipped her head to the side, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Not bad. Just tired. Your aura's a little pale."

"My aura is accurate, then." She dropped the spoon and leaned against the bar counter. "I think I'll just have a beer tonight. A fancy cocktail might knock me out."

"I won't tell Gus," Emily said in a conspiratorial tone, grabbing a glass. "We're making pizzas, if you're interested."

Pizza. The source of that divine smell. Lydia's stomach rumbled again. She'd had a favorite pizza place back in the city; it had been her last meal before she left for the valley. She wondered if the stuff Gus cooked up was any good, if he was hiding a wood fired brick oven somewhere out back.

"Hey, Shane," Emily said, just as cheerfully as she'd greeted Lydia, and Lydia realized that Shane was standing at the bar a few feet away from her. "The usual?"

"Yeah." He laid his money on the bar.

"Coming right up," Emily said, picking up a second glass.

She retreated to pour the beer, and Lydia glanced sidelong at Shane, gave a little wave. He looked even more wretched than usual, eyes hooded, five o'clock shadow thick.

She smiled like she didn't notice any of that. "Hey. Happy Friday."

He met her eyes and sighed. "Sure."

Well, it was monosyllabic, but it was an improvement. Emily returned with their beers. Shane picked his up, gave what might have been a nod in Lydia's direction, and wandered away to his usual table. During the walk, Lydia estimated that he'd already downed half the beer.

"I'm wearing him down," she said, impressed with her own prowess. 

"Well done," Emily said. Somehow, she kept the congratulatory tone of her voice from being condescending. "So, how about that pizza?"

Lydia tallied up her funds in her head. She could spare the money, probably. She shouldn't, though. If she wanted the farm to succeed, if she wanted to have plenty for the summer planting, if, if, if—

But the smell was just too overpowering. "Yeah, I think I'll have one," she said. "There a choice of toppings or anything?"

"Just the special, really. Green peppers and sausage and onions."

"Sounds perfect."

Some part of her told her to cancel the order. To take it back, keep the paltry pocket money where it belonged. She just couldn't seem to unstick her jaw to do it. She'd eaten a lot of fresh-caught fish and wild spring onions lately, and not much else; she was dying for a little variety.

She sipped her beer while she waited, people-watching. The kids swarmed in and occupied the arcade; she probably could have caught Abigail's eye and joined them, but their company seemed a little boisterous for her at the moment. They were only a few years younger than her, technically—not kids at all—but she felt out of step with their conversations. Too old, too worn out.

She snorted at her own melancholy. Give a girl a farm she didn't know how to run, and she'd turn into a mopey navel-gazer in no time.

"Fresh out of the oven," Emily said, sliding the platter of pizza across the bar. It was much, much too big for one person to consume, even a person as hungry as Lydia. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks," Lydia said, reverie broken, and surreptitiously scouted for somewhere to sit.

She'd been making inroads, definitely, but it was still an insular community. People tended to pair off, huddle up in their groups—treading the same boards they did every Saturday night. She wasn't sure where to stick a foot in the door, who wouldn't just crush it as they pulled it closed.

Her eyes landed on Shane's table. It didn't get more insular than that. Party of one. Two, maybe, if you counted the beer he was staring at. The look in his eyes suggested it might be his last.

Well, he'd been...amenable, sort of, earlier. There was an empty chair at his table. She had a bribe in the form of pizza. And if he was a jerk to her in front of the whole bar, someone else would definitely take her in. Squaring her shoulders, she made her way over.

Trying to treat this like any other night had been a mistake.

Most of the time, the Stardrop cut a sharp contrast to the bar back in the city. Rustic instead of divey, an old crowd rather than a young one, local beer instead of twenty-seven varieties on tap. And that suited Shane just fine. Remembering that bar meant remembering Patrick and Charlotte, and it was better not to remember. Better to immerse himself in scenery that couldn't get confused with memories.

Especially tonight.

Only problem was his brain, which had had it out for him for just about a year now. Isn't this the song that was playing when they told me they were getting married? it said, and, Look, that bottle Gus is keeping up on the top shelf looks like the whiskey me and Patrick split when Charlotte got pregnant, and, The new farmer girl sure reminds me of Patrick.

He wasn't drunk enough for that kind of thinking yet. Brain should've gotten the message by now. It needed to be damn near pickled before he'd go anywhere near those old memories.

And the farmer girl—yeah, maybe she had Patrick's wide-eyed friendliness, but he wasn't interested in discovering any other similarities between her and his dead best friend.

"Hey," a breezy voice said. "Can I sit here?"

Slowly, he lifted his head. Like his reluctance had summoned her, Lydia stood over his table, balancing a platter of pizza in one hand and holding her pint glass in the other.

He meant to say No. As rudely as possible. Maybe something snide along with it, like, Don't you have other people to annoy? Maybe better than that. A real zinger. Something that would send her scurrying for good. Apparently none of his other comebacks, reiterated at increasing volume whenever they crossed paths, hadn't been severe enough.

But a ghost possessed him instead, and he said, "Why?"

Like an idiot. Give this kind of person an inch, they'd take a mile. Hadn't he figured that out the first day they'd met? He knew exactly how this went.

He knew exactly how this ended.

"Empty seat." She pointed, as well as she could with her hands full. "Unless you're waiting for someone."

It was an innocent-enough assumption, but regardless, it felt like she'd stabbed him in the gut and twisted the knife. It sure felt like he was waiting. Waiting for Patrick and Charlotte to walk through that door, waiting until he knew how to parent his friends' orphaned daughter, waiting to wake up from this unfeeling nightmare…

He could lie. He could say he was waiting for someone. She couldn't have been paying enough attention to him to know the truth, and if she gave him the stink-eye later when it was clear his "company" wasn't coming, well, that didn't matter to him. Maybe it'd put an end to her niceties. Maybe it would be a good thing.

"I'll share the pizza," she offered.

He hadn't allowed himself to look at it too closely before, but now that she'd pointed it out, he could smell it. Bread, cheese, sauce...Gus had really stepped up his game recently. Nothing went better with a beer than pizza.

Well, pepper poppers, maybe, but nobody was making those around here.

"Sure," he said, before he could think better of it. Free food was worth a little inane chatter. "Whatever."

She beamed like he'd greeted her as an old friend, put her pizza down, and sat. "Thanks," she said. "I'm never going to get through this whole thing on my own."

Her timing was a little unbelievable. That she'd forgo rubbing elbows with the rest of the bar—something she did reliably—today, of all days. That she'd bring a pizza along with her. Almost like she had been the one possessed by a ghost—a ghost trying to reach him.

But that was even crazier than all the local superstition. And maybe a little part of him wanted to believe it, but the rest of him couldn't take comfort from something that wasn't true.

He picked up a slice of pizza, though. "I love this stuff," he admitted. "Thanks."

"Sure," she said. "You're doing me a favor, honestly. I don't have the energy to hang out with the kids tonight, and the oldies all want to talk about the farm." She pulled a face. "I work my ass off twelve hours a day at the place. Sometimes I'd rather not relive it all again at the end of the night."

"Hmm," he said. A nice, noncommittal syllable. He took a big bite of pizza—a good excuse not to elaborate.

"Still beats Joja," she sighed. "How is the old place, anyway? Still soul-sucking?"

He swallowed, surprised into responding. "You worked at Joja?"

"Not storefront. Desk jockey." Her nose crinkled up like she'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon. "Carpal tunnel instead of knee problems. I really suffered." He snorted, and she smiled. "Shit, I'm kind of glad to hear you didn't know. Feels like I've been the lone rider of the rumor mill for weeks. But somewhere out there, conversations are happening that are not about me."

"No," he said. "I just don't participate in conversations."

She rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. "Right. How could I forget?"

He felt sort of unsettled by her careless attitude, the same way he had when she'd shaken his hand at the bar.  Like his brusque commentary didn't put her off; like she could have a conversation with even an unwilling participant. The exact opposite of him, when it came right down to it. He couldn't tell if he was jealous or repulsed.

"They'll move on eventually," he said. Not a reassurance or commiseration, but a statement of fact.

She eyed him thoughtfully. "You'd know," she conceded. "You're new to the area, too, right?"

"Yep." He didn't elaborate. There was pizza to eat, beer to drink. Conversation to avoid.

Marnie and Jas were the only people in this town who knew exactly why he was here. He was not about to explain it to anyone else.

"You like it here?" she asked.

"Why, are you having second thoughts? Kind of late for that, isn't it?"

"No! No." She frowned, and he realized it was the first time he'd really seen her do so. "Just curious what other people from outside the valley think of it here. I want this to be long term, but…" She shrugged.

But farming isn't exactly easy or profitable? Probably a hell of a shock for someone who'd had an office job. All that sudden, manual labor. All those razor-thin profit margins. A day that didn't end promptly at 5.

"The people are busybodies," he said.

She chuckled. "I've noticed."

"This saloon is the sole source of entertainment."

"Hey, don't forget the museum. And library. Same building, but..."

"All the young people want to leave," he pushed on, ignoring her. "Or they're here on a whim, thinking the valley's gonna cure them of something."

He shot her a pointed look. She raised a single eyebrow, as if to acknowledge his point, but she didn't volunteer what that something might be for her. Fine by him.

"All the old people either feel like they're trapped here, or that it's their job to protect the place against modernization, or both."

"Ah," she said. "Explains that scene I witnessed at Pierre's the other day." She paused to take a deep drink of her beer. "So is there anything you like about the valley?"

"Not really," he said, automatic, even though it was a lie. But he wasn't about to tell her—he wasn't about to tell anyone—that he liked the way the air smelled after dusk, or that he liked the sounds the frogs made at the dock on the lake, or that he liked the way the chickens flocked to him all bright-eyed in the morning even when he was dreary-eyed himself.

There were very few things left in the world he liked, all fragile as bubbles blown by a child. If he drew attention to them, they, too, would vanish.

"I'll take it under advisement," she sighed. "I only spent summers here as a kid. It seemed magical, back then." She picked up another slice of pizza, considered it. "Still does, actually, I'm just...having a harder time believing it."

"It's not magic," he said flatly. "You just had a big imagination."

She laughed, as if she'd never learned how to take offense. "Come out to the farm sometime. There's some creature out in the woods that makes a noise like nothing I've heard anywhere else. We'll see who believes in magic then."

"Once you've seen the backroom of a JojaMart, you realize humans are incapable of magic," he muttered.

"Who said anything about humans?" she said with an exaggerated wink.

He huffed. Her absurdity was sort of funny, just the way Patrick's had been. Over-the-top, ridiculous; he would've loved that wizard guy in his tower west of the lake, or the crusty old adventurer up in the mountains with the eye patch…

But the similarities meant nothing. She wasn't Patrick. She wasn't being nudged along by his ghost. He couldn't, wouldn't, believe in that shit.

Even though she'd brought him pizza on his birthday. On the anniversary of the day they'd died.

"Well, you ever want a break from that backroom, come out to the farm," she said, serious now. "Get a look at what it's like to live free—and broke." She smiled, a little crookedly, and finished off her beer.

True to her scary sixth sense, Emily turned up right as Lydia put down her glass. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, beaming between the two of them like she was the proud mother of a child who'd finally gotten a playdate.

He didn't exactly want to encourage that thinking, but...he didn't want to be indebted to anybody, either. Especially not somebody down to their last dollar, when he'd eaten half her pizza. He was an asshole, but he hadn't fallen quite that far.

"No thanks," Lydia began, but Shane cut across her, "One more round. Put it on my tab." He nodded at her glass. "Same thing, or you gonna make Gus mix up another one of those city-girl cocktails?"

For a moment, she looked downright surprised—startled by the offer, maybe, or finally stunned by his ability to insult people. But then she grinned, wide and sincere.

"Just the beer," she said.

"Coming right up," Emily said, and wandered away.

Lower, heartfelt, Lydia said, "thanks."

He shrugged. "Seemed like you might need it. Drown your sorrows, and all that. You want a reliable source of magic, it's at the bottom of a glass."

"Never heard that one before."

"Trust me." He knocked back the rest of his own beer. "Secret backroom wisdom."

She didn't look at him reprovingly, the way Marnie always did when he made one of these jokes; she just nodded, sagely, like she believed him completely.

He doubted it, but...it was kind of nice, feeling like someone wanted to listen to him, for once. Feeling like somebody heard him.

Things could go back to normal tomorrow.

Go to Part 2 ->