#keeping an eye on this post. it's too funny

[ugh-yoongi]

the great british fake-off | xmh

you thought the guy in the hawaiian-print shirt who seems physically incapable of being quiet would be the most annoying person here, so imagine your shock when it's xu minghao, who has seemingly decided you're the enemy and keeps sabotaging you. a baking competition for charity might have others on their best behavior, but what's a little sugar without some spice?

❆ pairing: minghao x reader ❆ genre: great british bake-off, holiday au; crack, fluff ❆ wordcount: 5.5k ❆ rating: e for everyone ❆ warnings: some swearing, minghao is a saboteur, idiots abound. ❆ credits: this netflix psd template for the banner. this recipe for the yule log; this recipe for the gingerbread house; and this recipe for the entremet. divider from here. this post for the divider. this was roughly edited by me, so any and all mistakes are my own. ❆ written for: the winter with you collab hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories as they're posted. ♡ ❆ author's note: i had this rotting away in my wips since literally 2021, so even though it started as a completely different story, i'm so glad it's finally seeing the light of day even if it's not what i originally intended. (also, i know the banner says 12 contestants but the holiday specials only had a couple, okay. i forgot when i made it and i wasn't going back to fix it.)

The obnoxious one is wearing an aloha-print shirt.

He’s also extremely loud, his raucous, fake laughter filling every corner of the large warehouse you’ve been assigned to for filming. Makes a show of batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back every time someone cracks a joke that’s not even funny, comes up with nonsensical nicknames for the entire crew just to suck up to them.

“John Davies? Mind if I call you Joe?”

Joe doesn’t even make sense as a nickname for John, but John fucking loves it, apparently. Looks at the annoying guy like he just watched him string the stars in the sky.

But it’s the shirt—god, the shirt drives you absolutely crazy. He’s about to go on national television, be a household name, and some ill-fitting, charity shop Hawaiian print shirt is what he woke up and chose to wear. What’s his angle here? Appeal to the public with some sob story about only being able to afford second-hand clothes so that’s why he’s competing? Needs the money to care for a sick relative?

(The expensive watch on his wrist and his limited-drop sneakers tell an entirely different story, but you’re keeping that to yourself for now. No reason to play your hand so early.)

As much as you hate the shirt, you have to admit it suits him. The colors are garish and unsightly, just as obnoxious as he is, and you can’t stare at it too long because you start going cross-eyed. Looking at him feels about the same as stuffing your mouth with a bunch of sour candies: you get that same burn in the back of your jaw, same scrunched-up, grossed-out look on your face; have to squeeze your eyes shut to blink back tears.

You don’t even know his name, but you hate him immediately.

Your eyes scan the other contestants. None of them inspire the same level of animosity within you as the annoying one does; all of them nearly unremarkable. A variety of ages, appearances, backgrounds. You hear one say they’re a retired investment banker. There’s an accountant, a teacher, a fucking aerospace engineer.

And then it’s his turn to introduce himself. He clears his throat, speaks with an easy, practiced confidence. Completely void of nerves. Makes eye contact with everyone in your conversation circle. Gesticulates wildly as he speaks, immediately endears everyone to him.

“I’m Tim,” he says, and you nearly recoil at how honeyed his voice is. “But you can call me Tim. I’m thirty-eight, originally from a small town. Work as a…”

You can barely stand to listen to it anymore, each “Nice to meet you, Tim!” like another punch to the gut. How can’t these people see right through him? How are they falling for his bullshit? You should’ve known. Producers always throw in at least one bomb to up the ratings—a secret millionaire, someone rude and confrontational, a flat-earther. Even if you’re competing in a charity baking competition, of all things, it’s still reality television at the end of the day.

Just because the bunch of you are going to spend the next few days creating confections out of sugar, spice, and everything nice, doesn’t mean you have to be part of that ‘everything.’

Tim thinks he’s got this in the bag. Thinks he’s going to show up and win easily, the rest of you be damned, and even if you are typically a very nice person, you’re also highly competitive. There’ll be no rolling over done by you, and if Tim wants to play dirty—

Game on.

As you introduce yourself, you feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. Probably because you don’t bother with the faux-humility the rest of the contestants have. Polite and charming but firm, just the way your mother had taught you. You’re not boisterous, don’t crack silly jokes to play up to the cameras the way Tim loves to do, and you know he’s scrutinizing you the way you’d done to him, trying to figure out your angle.

Well, joke’s on him—you don’t need one.

And you really, really hope it drives him crazy.

Except maybe the joke is on you, too, because you don’t account for Xu Minghao.

In true reality television fashion, the tent is boiling hot.

As if the universe itself had looked down on all of you and decided what you all needed was a heatwave uncharacteristic of this time of year, just to up the ante. Not even ten minutes in the tent and you’re all fanning yourselves and wafting air up your shirts. Which is great, really, because it isn’t like you need to use ovens or stand over hot burners. It’s not like you aren’t going to be soaking through your clothes with anxiety sweats, either! Sweat dripping off your brow into your eyes won’t matter because you don’t need to use them.

Everything’s going to be fine!

But everything is not fine. Not only has the universe gifted you with sweltering heat, it’s given you the work station directly next to Tim’s. You’ll have to feel his annoying, off-putting aura near you for the entire competition. There’s always the possibility of him bungling it and making an early exit, but you know that’s unlikely. Obnoxious he may be, you also know a strong opponent when you see one, and something tells you you’re going to be stuck with him for the long haul.

Think of the cats, you tell yourself. All of this is for the cats.

It’s not like you never would’ve returned here of your own volition. No, your first go-round with feel-good, competition-based reality television had gone fine. You hadn’t won, of course, because you wouldn’t be here again if you had, but you placed respectably in the top three. Became a fan favorite, too, which was arguably more lucrative than winning. People make a living on social media these days.

So, it’s not the competition itself that has you white-knuckled gripping onto the edge of your station. It’s the man at the one beside you, cracking all these stupid jokes about the weather and how it’s a horrible day for tempering chocolate, so he bets that’s going to be the first challenge!

You suck in a deep breath. Try to remember the breathing exercises from that one yoga class your sister had dragged you to. It had been about the same temperature then, too—well duh, it’s hot yoga, your sister had said, which was news to you, because you never would’ve signed up for something called hot yoga willingly. Still, you endured it, just like you’ll endure this, and a little sweat is not going to get in the way of you delivering a check to all those poor, sad cats without families.

“Psst, hey,” you hear from behind you. When you turn, a man is smirking at you as he finishes tying his apron around his waist—has to wrap the strings around twice, you notice, because only someone hand-picked by the gods themselves would have that shoulder-to-waist ratio.

You don’t really recognize him. Can’t recall his name or where he’s from; can’t remember what he mentioned doing for a living. Probably something artsy, if you had to guess—he definitely has the style and demeanor of a creative, with his trendy shag-mullet and the multicolored, glitter-y snowflakes decorating his nails.

You aren’t sure he introduced himself at all, but the confidence with which he holds himself—easy, like it’d take a national emergency to rattle him even a little—implies he doesn’t really have to. Most of the people here already know him, if you had to guess, and he gives the impression that he’s not fussed with impressing any of them.

If only Tim was so inclined.

You clear your throat, vaguely aware you need to respond. “Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

“Ah, I don’t think so? We’ve done this before, after all. We should be seasoned veterans by now.”

He smirks. “Should be,” he emphasizes. “Feels different when it’s for charity. Extra serious, you know?”

“Right,” you agree, taking a look around the tent. “Anything for the cats.”

There’s an immediate shift in the atmosphere. What was friendly and carefree is now tense; where a smile and a floral giggle sat on the man’s lips has been replaced with a crooked scowl. And it doesn’t make sense, all you’d done was agree with what he said, but then the producers are yelling something at the front of the tent, cameramen are rushing to their equipment, and a woman appears at your side and starts clipping equipment to your clothes, and there’s no time to question it. On your right, Tim’s laughing and joking around with some crew members like they’re old drinking buddies. It drives you nuts, has annoyance pricking at your skin, flushing your cheeks—

So much so that the woman at your side leans in and asks, “Should I get hair and makeup over here?”

“I—no, it’s fine.”

The unnecessary members of the production team scatter away after a loud countdown. Hair and makeup don’t come to wipe the sweat tracks from your skin. You already know Man Behind You is standing there looking perfect because he’s equally as attractive as he is mysterious. God truly has favorites, and this guy somehow made the top five.

You stare down at the instructions in front of you, confident in your ability to read but not so confident in your ability to make sense of any of it. And it’s your own recipe, which is the worst part. You’d typed this recipe yourself. These are your hand-written notes in the margins. You’ve conceptualized, tweaked, baked, and eaten this recipe more times than you can count, and now all you can do is thousand-yard-stare into the ether.

In the time since you were on the show, you’d somehow forgotten about the chaos. Not unlike that hormone women have that makes them forget about the pain and agony of childbirth, you reckon.

In addition to being one of the most bothersome people in history, Tim apparently doubles as a prophet.

Because it is a terrible day to temper chocolate, and you’ve got a bûche de Noël on the horizon that requires you to do so. You can pivot, maybe make some kind of buttercream, but a basic chocolate buttercream is not going to win you a world-renowned baking competition even if it is Swiss meringue. A child could make that.

You sigh. Push that wave of panic to the back of your mind. In a setting like this, you have approximately ten seconds to come up with a back-up plan and execute it and you wasted your time thinking, so you’re just going to have to temper the stupid chocolate and stick to your original plan. God, you have a headache.

But the show must go on, so you do too.

Step 1: Preheat the oven.

Easy enough. If nothing else, you can preheat an oven.

Step 2: Make the sponge.

Not as easy, but you’ve made so many sponge cakes throughout your life you could probably do it in your sleep. Whisk attachment on the stand mixer. Four eggs. Sugar meticulously weighed and added to the bowl. Sugar and eggs whisked together until the mixture is the color and consistency you’re looking for. Flour, cocoa powder, and salt sifted in. Metal spoon to fold it all together as delicately as possible. You won’t have a sponge cake if you beat all the air out of it, now will you?

“Good enough,” you mutter to yourself, staring down at the bowl.

At least you’d had the foresight to grease and line your baking tray, because the entire entourage arrives at your station just as you’re meant to be pouring the batter into it and sticking it in the oven.

“Ah, we meet again,” the group choruses, genuine smiles peeking through as if you’re old friends separated only by time and distance.

That’s the weird thing about being on television. For as long as you’re able, you exist within a microcosm of daily life. A world exists outside of your bubble, you know, but you don’t see much proof of it. All of your meals are eaten together; all of your conversations are had with one another. You share temporary living quarters and oftentimes too much of yourselves, and you’re thankful the show encourages teamwork and kindness because that’s the kind of thing that can grow sour if you leave it unchecked too long.

And then it just—ends.

Bubble burst, you all go back to your regular lives. You look back on that time fondly, but the friendships are thinned out by time and distance. Eventually it all starts to feel like a dream, except every now and then something breaks through the haze to remind you it actually happened: a stranger recognizing you at the store, a message on social media, the casting team contacting you to ask if you’d be interested in competing in a holiday special for charity.

“We certainly do,” you retort, smile matching everyone else’s.

All things considered, you are happy to be back. Even if the tent is crowded and far too warm, the atmosphere is unmatched, especially when it’s decorated for the holidays.

“What are you working on?”

You explain the general workings of your yule log: chocolate sponge, hazelnut liqueur cream filling, and chocolate icing to top it off. You aren’t sure how you’re going to decorate it yet—you’ll figure it out once you get there, depending on how much time you have—but you guarantee them it’ll look festive and professional.

Satisfied with your plan, they wish you luck and move on to the man behind you. It’s so great to see you again, Minghao, someone says, and you’re grateful they’ve spared you the embarrassment of having to ask for his name. It still doesn’t ring a bell, and you can’t recall what season he’d been on for the life of you, but he speaks with a patience and a gentleness that is so unlike Tim that you nearly drop to the floor in thanks.

But as the commotion of the tent reminds you, you don’t have time to waste thinking about Minghao. You’ve only been given an hour for your signature, and you’re going to need all sixty of those minutes if you have any hopes of presenting a finished product.

It doesn’t register at first.

It doesn’t register at second or third, either.

In fact, you’re sure you’re hallucinating when you open the oven door to pop the sponge inside and you aren’t hit with a blast of hot air. Room temperature. Perhaps a bit on the cooler side, if you’re being honest.

And that can’t be, because you know you preheat your oven. It was the first thing you did, because it’s always the first thing you do. It’s just… automatic, like opening your mouth to eat or washing between your toes in the shower. Instinctual. Not something that needs to even be considered, because it’s always the first thing you do.

No, this cannot be. Forgetting to preheat the oven is a rookie mistake and you’re not a rookie.

…Could it be?

Perhaps you were so caught up in the lights and buzz, the thrill of returning to the tent, that it had slipped your mind? Perhaps you’d pressed the wrong buttons and turned the wrong dials? While it’s not likely you’d somehow bumped into the oven and turned it off, nothing is impossible, so… maybe?

“Shit,” you hiss through your teeth. The producers are not going to be happy about your swearing. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Everything okay up there?” Minghao asks from behind you. When you turn, he’s got a flour-dusted towel thrown over his shoulder as he nurses a cup of tea, and his composure in the face of your hysteria has your head spinning.

Your mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. Minghao is drinking tea without a care in the world and your oven isn’t even halfway to the temperature you need. “I—yes? No? I don’t know. I could’ve sworn I preheated the oven, but—”

“Don’t panic,” he offers, his top lip catching on the rim of his mug. “You got this. Work on something else while you wait.”

Something else. Right, you can work on something else. Both the filling and the frosting still have to be made, and quick mental math tells you there should just be enough time to get everything done if you’re efficient. Of course, that’s a big if, but that’s why you’d chosen a yule log, after all: sponge cake doesn’t need that long to bake, and anything can happen (and go wrong) in this tent.

So, you get to work on something else. Measure out a sheet of parchment paper, dust it with cocoa powder, and set it to the side. Decide to get to work on the frosting, because if one thing has already gone wrong, you don’t trust the universe to let you temper chocolate correctly.

The chocolate is halfway melted when the oven dings. A small harrumph of victory and you’re finally good to go, setting a timer for twelve minutes. Minghao offers you a discreet thumbs-up, fingers covered in something sticky you assume is marzipan.

Time flies after that. You get both the frosting and your filling made, and it’s only through divine intervention that your sponge cake comes out perfectly and with enough time to score and cool. When you dare a look around the room, everyone seems to be in a similar position as you: frazzled and covered in powdered sugar, making frantic trips to and from the refrigerators, chucking seized-up caramel into the trash and starting over for the third time with a pained expression.

A holiday special—it was supposed to be more laid-back, more for the vibes and festivity than actual competition, but it looks to you like everyone’s taking it just as seriously as your first go-rounds.

“Fifteen minutes!” someone calls, and your competitors fade out of focus. You’ve got a yule log to ice and fondant to roll out.

You make it by the skin of your teeth.

It isn’t perfect, of course, as few things on this show ever are, but it’s more than acceptable. It looks great and tastes even better which is all you can hope for. Much to your dismay, Tim also gets top marks, but it’s Minghao that shocks you all. His stollen wreath earns him a handshake and a lot of clandestine, private glares, but he’d been kind to you earlier, helped untangle that knot of pandemonium, so you return the thumbs-up he’d given you earlier with a smile that feels akin to getting away with murder.

Something is wrong.

On its own, this is not necessarily surprising. Gingerbread, tasked with bearing the weight of an entire house, can be fickle. On any other day you wouldn’t blame it if it wanted to rebel and go sideways, but the thing is—you’ve made gingerbread before. Tons of times. Another thing you could probably make in your sleep if you absolutely had to. So it doesn’t make sense when you look down in your mixing bowl and it just… doesn’t look right.

You tell yourself it’ll get better when you knead it. Maybe the color just looks off because it’s underworked, and a few good punches will set it straight.

But it doesn’t. The dough sits at your station like a sad, formless lump, giving you no indication it intends to become anything at all. Which is, admittedly, a problem. Your technical challenge is to build a gingerbread house—one complete with little windows and golden-toned nightlights, a scalloped roof dusted with powdered sugar to look like fresh snow, a working door!—and you’re far from an engineer, but you don’t think you can have a gingerbread house without gingerbread.

You sneak a peek at Tim’s station, where he’s well into measuring an immaculate-looking dough with a ruler. The contestant in front of you is in a similar place, too, so it’s with an oh fuck I’m doomed sigh that you turn around and hope to find a comrade in Minghao again.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. “Does this look right to you?” You jerk a thumb in the direction of your dough-lump. Minghao, bless him, looks around you and tries his best to hide his grimace.

He does not succeed.

“Um. Well, no.”

You sigh. Place one flour-dusted hand on your waist and pinch the bridge of your nose with the other. “I can’t figure out what’s wrong with it. I’ve made gingerbread a million times.”

“Looks pale,” he offers. Of course, this is the exact moment he dumps his own dough—his beautiful dough, flawless chestnut brown—onto his station to knead it. “Was the sugar right?”

A strangled, disbelieving laugh escapes you. Was the sugar right—of course the sugar was right! Dark muscovado sugar. Everyone knows that's what you use for gingerbread, so of course the sugar was right because no one, both in their right mind and at this stage of competition, would use anything else.

Before you can respond, Minghao’s pointing at your jar of sugar. Your jar of pale, producer-supplied sugar, which even a blind person could tell does not resemble dark muscovado sugar.

A million thoughts race through your head at once, but it boils down to instinct, you think. Your brain had seen flour, butter, and sugar and went into baking mode, not stopping to take in the color of anything. Maybe a smarter, more perceptive person would put two and two together and get sabotage, but you don’t have enough time to play detective.

“Here, here,” Minghao says, hurriedly handing over his (correct) sugar. “It’ll be close, but you should have just enough time to redo the dough.”

You’re going to throw up.

In the end, a chunk of chocolate buttons is missing from the roof and the piping around the edges is far from your neatest work, but it’s passable. You already lamented your loss during the signature bake, because anything less than perfection was not going to win you much of anything, and you’re now 0-for-2 on showstopping, unbelievable, awe-inspiring confections.

Just like the devil, your fall from grace will be studied.

Overthinking isn’t going to get you anywhere, but you can’t help it.

You collapse sideways into a chair, immediately face-planting into the catering table. Everyone else buzzes around you—animated conversations that have your head spinning, words that jumble together and start to sound like nothing at all—but you’re a million miles away. One mistake is out of character for you, but two? It’s unheard of. Something you would’ve said was impossible if it didn’t happen to you just a few hours ago.

This is something you need to file away for later so you can think about it just as you’re about to fall asleep, horror and embarrassment there to keep you company when it keeps you awake until the wee hours of the morning.

A chill runs down your spine.

“Hi. Do you mind?” You startle. Bang your knee on the underside of the table. “Sorry,” Minghao apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. You shake your head. Gesture to the empty seat across from you as if to say it’s all yours. “I brought you some tea,” he continues, setting it in front of you. “I find it’s easier than coffee when you don’t know how someone takes theirs. Less chance of getting it wrong.”

You smile. Wrap your hands around the Styrofoam cup and delight in the warmth. “Thank you. This was very kind of you.”

“Seemed like you had a rough day.”

Groaning, you try to wave away his words. “Please don’t speak of it.” Minghao jokingly salutes you before miming his lips sealed. “Anyway. Let’s talk about something that is not reality television or baking or a reality baking competition.”

So, you do. Most of the talking comes from you, to be fair, but Minghao is a good listener: nods along, chimes in when appropriate, keeps the spit in his mouth where it belongs. You talk about your hometown and what made you apply for the show the first time. He tells you about growing up in Haicheng and all the things he grew up baking with his mother. You swap stories from your respective seasons; Minghao shares anecdotes with a straight face that have you clutching at your stomach.

Hours pass this way, and you end the night feeling like you’ve made an honest-to-god friend.

Xu Minghao ends the night feeling the guilt weigh him down like an albatross.

In retrospect, it is probably a bad idea to make another sponge, but no one can accuse you of learning from your mistakes.

“It’ll be a patterned joconde sponge with two mousse layers—chocolate and raspberry—and a raspberry jelly. Then I’m going to attempt to top it with chocolate and raspberry decorations.” The judges blink. Are you sure that’s a good idea? you know they want to ask, but this is a holiday competition for charity, so they’re trying not to be pessimists. “Anything is possible through holiday cheer,” you tack on, hoping your smile doesn’t look crazed.

They nod. “Right, right,” they say in unison. “Well, good luck!”

And then they’re off.

Determined to nail this, you triple-check your oven, which is preheating to a crisp 400 degrees; you double-check all your ingredients and confirm they’re correct; when you can spare the time, you watch your refrigerator like a hawk, making sure no one tries to sneak their own work in there and displace yours when you aren’t looking, but everyone’s engrossed in their respective showstoppers.

Tim’s planning a shadow box of sorts, with blown-sugar baubles and isomalt fire. Someone else is stressing over their three-tiered cake, asking the presenter if they think they’ve taken on too much. From what you can piece together, Minghao is making a three-dimensional house, also made from cake that he imported special pistachios for.

“Special pistachios?”

“Mm, from Iran. They have a better color.”

“Iranian pistachios! Can you believe it!”

But you don’t have time to worry about Minghao and his special Iranian pistachios. You have so much to do and not enough time to complete it. Your paste is in the freezer and the sponge is in the oven, but you’ve still got two mousses to make, a jelly to infuse, and little chocolate trees to create—and all of this wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t pointless, but you don’t want to disappoint the cats by half-assing it. They deserve your whole ass, and your whole ass is what they’re going to get.

The result is stunning—not necessarily in stature, but rather craftsmanship and effort. This is what you’re capable of. This is why you came back to the tent. For all your complaining and wanting to put your head through a concrete wall, there’s nothing like seeing the judges ooh and ahh when you present your work to them. There’s nothing like the ego boost of someone taking a bite and watching their eyes light up. There’s nothing like carrying your cake back to your station feeling proud of yourself.

“Great job,” Minghao says, a genuine smile stretched across his face. He also exceeds expectations, of course. Must be those special pistachios, you think, but your congratulations are also sincere.

Production makes a spectacle of judging, much like they always do.

The set is decorated to look like a winter wonderland, even though you’re still in the midst of autumn: a giant Christmas tree in the center decked to the nines with garland and baubles; warm, golden bulbs strung from every awning they could find; all the participants bundled up tight in festive sweaters and scarves all the way to your chins, cheeks and tips of noses dusted with red-pink blush to mimic the cold that’s nowhere to be found. Fake snow falls from the sky, and it doesn’t feel real, but it does feel magical.

One of the hosts catches you by the elbow, asks who you think is going to win. “Oh, I’d have to say Minghao,” you answer, because you’d rather die than give Tim the satisfaction. “His showstopper was incredible, but he was really great the whole competition.”

In the end, however, neither of them wins—it’s Jeon Wonwoo, three-tiered cake guy, who comes out of nowhere to claim first place. He’s bashful as he accepts his prize and says he’s going to donate the prize money to an organization that provides underprivileged kids with video game equipment. No one has a whole lot to say about that.

Once most of the hubbub dies down (and you give Tim a half-assed you did great, so sorry you didn’t win), you find Minghao near the refreshments table. He’s frowning around another mug of tea. “Alright?” you ask, helping yourself to some cider.

“For some reason, I’m no longer feeling very festive,” he replies, which is a very funny thing to say while wearing a hat with a little pom-pom on the top.

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Sidle in a little closer and knock his shoulder with your own. “Ah, I know how you feel, but you really did do great. You were my pick to win, for what it’s worth.”

“Please don’t tell me that. It only makes me feel worse for losing.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Would’ve been nice to donate some money to the cats, but shit, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve sworn some dark force was sabotaging me. Like, come on—forgetting to preheat the oven? Using the wrong sugar? Not even a kid would’ve made those mistakes.”

Two things happen in rapid succession: beside you, Minghao goes very, very stiff, and you realize you had been sabotaged. And not by some dark, evil force, either. You were sabotaged by the very man standing beside you—the man you shared thumbs-up with and thought was your friend. The man whose cake you complimented and picked to win. The man who is now standing ramrod straight, as tense as a corpse, and the thought of sabotaging someone in a charity baking competition is so ridiculous and unbelievable that you just—

You just laugh.

At first, it’s a bark of stunned laughter. Then, the more it sinks in how absurd, how nonsensical all of this is, you can’t stop. Tears are rolling down your cheeks. You gasp for breath as your stomach begins to ache. People are staring, including Minghao, who sort of can’t believe what he’s seeing, but none of it does anything to deter you.

“Oh my god,” you wheeze, “I can’t believe it was you—”

Minghao groans. “In my defense, it was for the cats!”

This was not the answer you were expecting. It makes you laugh harder. “What do you mean it was for the cats?”

He swallows. Removes the mitten from one hand to run it through his hair as if that one tic was enough to distract you from everything that’s happened in the last sixty seconds. (It is.) “Listen, you told me you were going to donate the money to a cat charity if you won and I just—so was I, was the thing. I was also going to donate the money to a cat charity if I won—”

“Okay, but which one, though?”

“The Cat’s Paw-jamas.” Much to Minghao’s horror, this sets you off again. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Minghao,” you try to choke out, but you can barely breathe around the cramp in your stomach. “Minghao, that’s the charity I was going to donate to. Oh my god, you sabotaged me and I was going to donate to—to the same fucking place. Jesus Christ, this is some Gift of the Magi shit.”

Your saboteur, who has gone deathly pale, is quiet for a very long time. Every now and then he’ll open his mouth like he’s going to say something before it snaps shut again. When he does manage to speak, what comes out are mangled apologies that sound like gibberish, and you wave all of them away. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“I—I really don’t think it should be?”

“Minghao, it’s fine, trust me, this was just for fun—”

“No, I really insist.”

You sigh, good-natured and exasperated. Something about the fake snow has you feeling romantic and a little bold, so you turn, grab him by the lapels of his coat. “Please tell me if I’m misreading this, but if you insist, maybe you can start by taking me to dinner…?”

This was clearly not what MInghao was expecting you to say. Dazed, he recovers quickly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a half-smirk. “Dinner, hm?” You nod. “I think I can manage that.”

You smile. “Great. How do you feel about cat cafes?”

[bigassmoth]

Sho frowned as he watched Leo tap furiously at his screen.

"Dude....eat your fuckin food." The plate of ultra-hot chili ramen was getting cold in the table.

"Yeah, whatever." Leo rolled his eyes and huffed, sending his tweet and then slapping his phone down. He ate angrily while Sho regarded him with a rasied eyebrow.

"The fucks wrong with you?"

Leo looked at Sho with annoyance and slurped his noodles.

"That NPC is the problem. Ever since I made that post calling them my girlfriend, followers have been bitching."

"Isnt that what you wanted? A few days ago you were laughing about it." Sho starts cleaning after confirming that the dish meets Leos impractical level of spice.

"It -was- funny but now it's just annoying. Everyone keeps calling them a Basic Bitch or an NPC, its every other comment. So unoriginal."

"That's what you call the honor student all the tim-"

"And when it's not regurgitating the same stupid one-liner, it's moaning about how someone else would be such a better fit."

Leo steamrolled Sho's comment and then picked up his phone with a scoff.

"See? Listen to this, "She is too boring for you Leo, you would be such a better match with Anastasia" as if that Kardashian copying nepobaby is half as interesting." Leo reads the text aloud before scooping more noodles into his mouth.

"Is that the blogger that keeps getting a new baby animal every few years?" Sho puts his freshly cleaned knives onto the magnetic board you talked him into getting to save on space.

"Yeah, she keeps hopping on trends. She ditched the Italian Greyhound and got a micro husky- whatever the fuck that is." Leo slathers a piece of his pork belly in sriracha before popping it into his mouth.

A new voice joins the discussion as you pass by Leos table.

"That sounds unethical. Hey Sho I know it's late, do you have anything you could whip up for me?" You peer up at Sho as you lean against the truck. The dark circles under your eyes and your unkempt hair say enough- you just got back from another mission.

"Hm...sure I think I have something I can whip together. But dont get mad at me if it doesnt turn out." Sho easily relents and begins rummaging through his fridge.

"Youre cooking is always good, thats why I can never get mad at anything you do." You tease back- it was no secret that food was the way to your heart. You had a wealth of patience for anyone who offered you snacks.

Leo grew tired of listening and scoffed.

"Did you get so tired of flirting with that musclehead so you had to move onto a guy in love with his motorcycle?"

"Shut up man." Sho responds automatically. You sit down across from Leo.

"I also love Bonnie." You say matter-of-facrly while resting your head on your arms.

"Gross." Leo rolls his eyes and aims his phone at you. He takes a couple pictures, decides on one that is decidedly your worst angle in the worst lighting. His snickering makes you open your eyes.

"What did you do?" You are annoyed when you speak to him and lacking the familiarity that you hold for Sho.

"Just want the internet to know my relationship with my girlfriend is going well." Leo shows you his recent post with a sly grin.

Having learned better, and too tired to care, you dont bother reading it and once again shut your eyes.

"As long as you arent trying to extort Tohma-senpai again." You sigh.

From inside the truck while he heats up your food, Sho opens his phone to view the post.

Your picture is editted with several heart emoties with a caption reading "Best Girlfriend Ever<3 She ordered 23,456 yen worth of food but forgot her wallet, shes so silly!" The comments are already scalding as they tear into your character. Sho peeks out to see Leo smugly scrolling through the comments before he reaches out and pats your hair.

"Ah, NPC-chan youre such good rage bait~" he coos.

"Youre welcome." You sigh out. Sho snorts as he brings you a bowl of ramen. In a short amount of time you had adjusted to Leo miraculously. Typically this unbothered attitude would bother the chic influencer but without realizing it he had become endeared to your attitude. The two sat with you and chatted as you ate your food. Sho eventually kicking Leo when he tried to get a picture of you eating.

[godlynott]

ART DECO - THEODORE NOTT.

A fluff based on my fanfic, you can find it here 💟

(i also posted this on tiktok. my tiktok is the same user as here!)

Theo couldn’t help but glance at Rory from across the room, a quiet tug in his chest that he couldn’t explain. It was a strange thing, really. They had once been the best of friends, a bond as strong as the winds that swept through the hills of Italy where Theo spent his summers. Now, years later, all they shared was a quiet war—words sharp and gestures colder than any distance could make.

But in those fleeting moments, when their eyes met or when Rory’s lips curved into that rare, unguarded smile, Theo swore he could still see the ghost of the person he used to know. And just for a moment, just for that split second, everything felt right again.

“Che strano,” Theo muttered under his breath, realizing that maybe it wasn’t just the past pulling him toward Rory, but something else—something he couldn’t quite name, something that had never really disappeared.

Rory, noticing Theo’s soft gaze, smirked. “What? You finally missed me, Theo?”

A breath caught in Theo’s throat, and he almost felt like he could breathe again. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Rory raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her teasing smirk softening just a bit as she glanced at him. “You know,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost like a secret she wasn’t sure she should share, “you never really got over it, did you? All those years…”

Theo’s heart skipped, the weight of her words sinking in. He could feel the pull of her like gravity, everything inside him screaming for something he thought he’d buried long ago. But it was Rory—how could he ever truly bury something so complicated, so… hers?

He took a step forward, the distance between them suddenly too wide, and his voice was low, almost hesitant. “Maybe I didn’t want to.”

Rory didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with those eyes that always seemed to know too much. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible smile, she reached out, brushing her fingers against his. The touch was electric, a jolt that sent a spark of warmth through his chest. It was as if, in that moment, the years apart had melted away, and the ghost of their old friendship whispered in the silence.

“Funny,” Rory murmured, “I didn’t want to either.”

Theo stood frozen for a moment, the weight of her words hanging between them like a delicate thread. He wanted to say something—anything—but the truth was, he wasn’t sure what to feel. Every part of him had been trained to keep his distance, to stay cold, to guard his heart like it was something fragile, something worth hiding. But now, standing so close to Rory, with her fingers still lightly brushing against his, it was like all those years of silence had built to this one moment, this one breath.

“You always did know how to get under my skin,” he muttered, trying to keep the conversation light, but the intensity in his voice betrayed him. His heart raced in his chest, and he could feel the heat of her hand against his, even though it was just the faintest touch.

Rory chuckled softly, but there was something different in her eyes now—no longer playful, but… open. “Maybe that’s because you let me,” she said, her voice quieter, more thoughtful than he had expected. “You always did let me, Theo.”

He stared at her, caught between the impulse to laugh it off and the truth that was beginning to stir inside him. Was that what it had always been? That easy surrender to her presence, to the connection they shared? He wasn’t sure, but something about the way she looked at him now made it feel like everything was finally coming into focus.

“You don’t make it easy,” Theo replied, his voice a little rougher than usual, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the past or the present, about the rivalry or something else entirely. But Rory’s smile deepened, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprising him. It felt good, like a release he hadn’t realized he needed.

Rory tilted her head, studying him for a moment, and Theo couldn’t help but feel like she was seeing through him, into the places he kept hidden. “You never did like things easy, did you?” she said softly, her voice tinged with something deeper, something unspoken.

Theo swallowed, feeling the pull between them growing stronger. He stepped closer, the space between them narrowing with every breath. His hand brushed her cheek, just a light touch, but enough to make the world feel like it had shifted. Rory’s gaze flickered to his lips, and for the briefest moment, he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was—that maybe, just maybe, the lines between them weren’t as clear as they once seemed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known anything easy with you, Rory,” Theo murmured, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her jaw. “And I don’t think I ever will.”

Her breath hitched at his words, but instead of pulling away, she leaned into his touch, her lips barely a breath away from his. “Good,” she whispered, her voice like a promise, “because neither have I.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. It was like the whole world had faded away, leaving just the two of them in this quiet, electric space between what was and what could be. And when their lips finally met—slow, tentative at first—it felt like coming home. Like all the time they’d spent apart had only been building up to this, to the soft press of lips against lips, to the fragile, beautiful moment where the past and present collided.

It wasn’t easy. It never had been. But maybe, just maybe, that was what made it worth everything.

As they pulled away, neither of them spoke immediately. The silence between them felt different now—not awkward, not heavy, but comfortable, like something had shifted in the air. Theo looked at Rory, his heart still racing, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. Was this the beginning of something new, or was it just a fleeting moment in time? He wasn’t sure.

Rory, for her part, didn’t seem to have an answer either. But when she met his gaze, there was a softness there—a quiet understanding, as if they were both realizing, at the same time, that whatever had brought them together in the past was never truly gone. Maybe it had always been waiting for them, just buried beneath the layers of time and distance.

“You’re still a pain in my ass,” she muttered, breaking the silence, her smirk returning as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. But the edge was gone from her voice, and something deeper lingered there.

Theo chuckled, the sound low and full of warmth. “Says the girl who’s never made anything easy.”

Rory rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away when he reached for her hand again. She let him, fingers intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The tension from the years of rivalry, the hurt, the confusion—it was still there, but now, it felt like something they could face together, not as enemies, but as something more.

“So,” Rory began, her voice playful but with a hint of uncertainty, “now what?”

Theo paused, glancing down at their intertwined hands. “Now,” he said slowly, looking back up at her with a grin, “we figure it out.”

And for the first time in a long while, Theo didn’t feel like he had to have all the answers. Because with Rory standing beside him, it felt like the journey was just beginning.

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[bree-paints]

My copium where they all survive and they are an iconic one eyed trio

Also some random sketches because 266-267 have been killing me emotionally thank you

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[pa-pa-plasma]

personally, (me also overthinking, but mostly as a cat person who has dealt with forest cats rather than a WC fan) i was going off of the assumption that they're basically normal animal ghosts like the ones we see in DP. I haven't actually read past the first 6 books in a few years, so I'm not sure about their power sets in Warriors canon other than typical Starclan shit.

I still hold firm on Danny winning because like. cats are not a cohesive unit, even in Warriors. most of the fights happen with small groups or one-on-one. in bigger fights, more cats tend to get either severely hurt or killed (even the already dead ones). they don't have experience fighting (but more importantly, defeating) humans. should also note that there are kittens (not as good at fighting, plus are more likely to be get used to human activity) in Starclan, as well as Medicine Cats & others who have never learned how to fight.

(NOTE: this is just Starclan. kittypet heaven & the Dark Forest are not involved, unless it would be funny)

Danny also has Fenton Tech, so he can literally just do the usual C&R program; catch em in the human world, then release them in the Ghost Zone. the cats are feral so they would want to avoid human contact as much as possible, except for maybe a select few who have been tamed down previously in canon.

A "fight" in this case wouldn't actually be a fight to the death (unrealistic), but a normal "episode" of Danny Phantom the show (supremely realistic, obviously). I think via cartoon logic Danny would eventually "win" in a sense (getting all or most cats back in their part of the 'Zone, but even without cartoon logic he just has the advantage of being smarter, having technology, & actually being the one after the loose ghost cats who are just running around in the world of the living with no intentions other than "what the fuck am i doing here & how do i get back to Starclan or at least the clans"

i might make a pros VS cons list actually just to sort everything out because this question has gotten a lot bigger than we thought it would be. i actually really appreciate everyone explaining why they voted for what & would love more suggestions for pros VS cons for both Danny & Starclan

my answer under the cut

Danny would win, but it would take him months to catch all of them & he would suffer the whole time

he's a dog person too so he wouldn't know how to handle them. Sam would be able to handle them but as soon as any of them start to warm up to Danny (probably like Pinestar or another warrior-turned-kittypet) Cujo would show up & they'd all scatter

except for Swiftpaw, he'd probably fight Cujo, traumatizing him & making it impossible for him to get along with cats in the future, obviously making the situation worse

[kristalijah]

HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!! I REPEAT, HE'S CHECKING OUT GARY!!!!

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[150699]

When Viktor says "The doctor was right" at the end of s2ep6, I wonder if he was actually referring to when he visited Singed's lab in s1 and Singed told him, "If you take this path, they will despise you. Love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress."

I do think that he's at least partially referring to the exchange in the greenhouse when Singed essentially suggests he sacrifice Vander in favor of guaranteed survival, to which Viktor replies, "I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause."

I'm not totally convinced he agrees with everything that was said there, but he's certainly changed his opinion on the necessity of sacrificing people's humanity to achieve his vision/the glorious evolution.

Of course, both dialogues are connected if you consider love to be a defining trait of people's humanity (as many do). In that case, Singed's s1 dialogue could be translated to, "Humanity is the sacrifice we make for progress."

Viktor, however, will never be able to fully rid himself of his humanity for the exact reason that - again - Singed gives to Caitlyn and Ambessa.

"Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? For love."

The commune, the evolutionary goal, all of it is done out of love for people and a desire to help them... if the most effective way to help is to sacrifice their humanity, so be it.

[asthedeathoflight]

How it feels scrolling through my dash to try and find @flowersandskeletons526 's latest fic (which i still havent finished reading) only to discover that @alexihollis has ALSO decided to post angst today

[jichanxo]

how it started:

how it's going:

[gatsbydyke]

headcanoning gatsby as black (and therefore having Not Light Colored eyes) despite him canonically having Blue eyes is so fun cuz like. on one hand yeah it can be "ignoring canon in favor of fanon" or god forbid "being a fake fan" (lmao) but also *gestures vaguely to daisy and jordans hair colors*

also, may i offer: nick just. forgetting what color gatsbys eyes were. i mean he didnt have any color photos (for obvious reasons) and like its been 2 years. hes drunk, sleep deprived, writing at like 3am like "his... eyes were blue right?? that seems about right" (was too busy looking at his Damned smile the whole time)

[heloflor]

Ok so for about a good two-three months now I had a post in my drafts about how I realized I ship Powser, and long story short I started comparing Bowser to what I think to be how most villains in media interact with their damsel in distress if they express “love” for them. Issue is, I don’t have nearly enough knowledge/examples on this topic to know how truthful this comparison is, but said comparison is also the main thing tying this post together. So when thinking of ways to remove this element while still having all the same info in this post, I kind of came up short. Plus, I like the way the post is structured as is.

In other words, here’s the post as I originally wrote it, but be aware that the comparison is probably very flawed. Maybe there’s some truth to it, probably not. In any case, just focus on the Powser side of it, the villain comparison is just there for the structure. Enjoy! (long post ahead, a bit over 3k words)

So I recently realized that I really like Powser which I did NOT expect given I’m usually much more of a “friends to lovers” type of person, and trying to understand why I like it led me to think about how villains tend to be presented in their relationship with the “damsel in distress”, and it’s actually very interesting when you compare it to Bowser.

TL;DR: Unlike most villains who showcase sexual attraction (I think?), Bowser is shown to be romantically attracted to Peach. And while his actions are still very much shitty and should be seen as such, man is he adorable sometimes ! Plus, the way his feelings are shown to be genuine makes him look better than most villains, whose “love” for their victim is portrayed as """creepy lust""" by their medias.

(Obviously there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with sexual attraction. I’m talking in the context of medias that sometimes tend to vilify it, especially when it comes to the antagonists, hence the language used in this post.)

So the first thing that came in mind while thinking of other villains was Dis//ney’s Alad//din (the 90s/animated one) and how Jaf/ar treats Jasm/ine at the end of the movie, more specifically when he wishes for her to fall in love with him and she ends up pretending to be as a distraction.

Thing is, Jasm/ine doesn’t act like she’s in love with Jaf/ar, she acts like she’s thirsting for him, and the way Jaf/ar reacts shows that this is pretty much what he had in mind when saying he wants her to love him. This isn’t love, it’s lust.

Now, I can’t say I’m someone who watches a lot of movies, especially not live-actions ones, so take what I’m about to say with a huge grain of salt. Basically, I kinda feel like what we see in Alad/din is the norm when it comes to villain/victim relationships? Like you have those antagonists who want the damsel in distress to be horny for them, who don’t see those women as people and don’t give a shit about them, only keeping them to get what they want out of them and having no issue discarding them afterwards if they get bored with those poor girls.

Btw that’s not to say that every single villain who kidnaps someone wants to sleep with them. But when it comes to villains who claim to love their victim, there does seem to be at least some sexual tension here, or at least some uncomfortable touches.

And then there’s Bowser. To give a few examples of what he does:

- In that one 1986 anime movie thing, he gets very soft around Peach, gushing about how he’s in love with her and wants to marry her, trying to cheer her up when she’s sad, and let’s not forget that “it’s more of a bracelet, shows that my love is bigger” line with the ring.

- In the mainline “platformers” games, you have “Mario Sunshine” in which Bowser wants his son to have a mother, and “Mario Odyssey” in which he tries to marry Peach, going around the world gathering all the absolute best things for the wedding. There’s also the New Bros U intro with Bowser gently moving Peach’s chair, making sure she doesn’t get hurt by his attack, showing he doesn’t want to hurt her.

- Not sure exactly if this counts as this could be a form of objectification, but you know that cliché of villains getting that all-powerful thing they wanted and immediately betraying/discarding all the people they worked with and/or claimed to love? Well, in the Galaxy games, Bowser gets the power to create a whole new universe, and yet still takes the time to capture Peach, claiming in the first game that he wants her to rule along with him. Again, this could be a form of objectification, especially when looking at his dialogue in the intro of the second game, but it’s still interesting how Bowser doesn’t really fall on that trope, still having his army and Junior on top of Peach (btw the intro of Galaxy 2 is very funny on that front because Bowser literally has enormous powers and yet still makes a detour for Peach, thus causing Mario to be on his tail. Like, let her go dude, she’s not that into you. You got all the powers of the universe, who cares about that one specific woman when you could have literally anybody else?).

- In the first Paper Mario game, Bowser tells Peach that he would fulfill her wishes if she wants (as long as he likes them) and gushes in his diary about how he hopes Peach likes him. And in Thousand Years Doors, he keeps trying to look for her upon hearing she got kidnapped.

- In Super Paper Mario, he gets overjoyed about the wedding but still immediately shows worry for Peach when Nastasia uses her mind control on her, and in general Bowser spends the game clearly loving being able to call Peach his wife, and joins the team again in 7-2 out of concern for her safety. Same with 8-1 where for all he knows he’s about to die and yet his main concern is her safety, to the point where he's willing to ask Mario to protect her for him. His priority is not being with Peach, instead it's Peach being safe.

- In Color Splash, the first thing he does when first getting back to himself during the fight is ask if Mario brought Peach with him.

- In Origami King, he doesn’t want her to see him as a wet floor sign and later asks Olly if Peach is safe and comfortable, which as I’ve seen pointed out implies that him capturing Peach is mostly a forced vacation/sleepover until Mario arrives and she’s put on the spot for show.

(- In general Paper Bowser is a huge hopeless romantic, at least from what I’ve seen of him.)

- In Superstar Saga he helps Mario and Luigi reach the Bean Kingdom for Peach’s sake. Then in Bowser’s Inside Story his most beloved and protected memories are his memories of Peach + he makes saving her his priority towards the end. And in Dream Team, he hears a rumor that Peach might have gotten kidnaped and immediately flies all the way to Pi’illo Island to find her.

- You cannot convince me that his car in Mario 3D World wasn’t an attempt to impress Peach, given this is one of the only two games (three with Wonder) where you play as her and face against him. /hj

- In that one old comic people kept bringing up after the movie came out, Bowser spends a lot of time gushing about marrying Peach. Also despite Peach being very temperamental in this comic, I don’t think Bowser once tries to hurt her? Obviously you have the Magikoopa brainwashing her at the end which is fucked up but outside of that does Bowser ever get angry or menacing when it comes to her?

- In general, outside of the games where Peach is playable and the intro of Inside Story (which comes off as OOC for Bowser tbh, I get him being pissed off but him trying to burn Peach is just really off), do we ever get to see Bowser raise a hand on her and/or try to physically hurt her? Same for his anger, how often do we get to see him raise his voice on her? And no the sports and party games don’t count since everyone is doing the same thing to everyone else in those, and in the party games it'd be unfair if playing that one character led to Bowser going easy on the player.

Now I might be missing some more moments, especially since I’m far from the most knowledgeable on the sport/party games and some RPGs (slowly making my way through them), but there’s one thing that is very obvious: while most villains express sexual attraction for the damsel in distress, Bowser expresses romantic attraction.

Bowser genuinely cares for Peach. She’s one of his most precious memories. In Super Paper, he snaps out of the joy of getting married when Peach is getting brainwashed, showing how much he values her safety. He absolutely adores her and isn’t afraid to express it, especially Paper Bowser.

Those two instances (Inside story and Super Paper) especially really seem to lean into how much Bowser loves Peach. In Inside Story, the fact that she’s his most well-preserved memory shows just how much he values the little time he spends with her and how important she is to him, not as some pretty face but as a person he genuinely wants to create more memories with. And in Super Paper, Bleck is giving him the one thing he’s always wanted, and yet he still shows some reticence when Nastasia uses her mind control, making it look like Peach being safe and sound is more important to him than them being a couple. Idk, those two moments just really get to me when you think about it this way.

(Btw in Super Paper I adore that Peach hesitates to leave him in 8-1 because, while we know Peach is incredibly kind so of course she’d be worried for a teammate, for once it feels like Bowser actually earned it. He spends the whole game being caring towards Peach, and wouldn’t you know, being nice and respectful to someone actually makes them care for you! I swear the Powser potential from this game is unmatched!)

When most villains say “I want this woman to love me”, they usually mean “I want this woman to obey and submit to my every want”. When Bowser says “I want Peach to love me”, he means “I want to be able to wake up everyday by her side, make her smile and laugh and be happy, see her be a mother to my kid(s), learn more about her and spend as much time with her as I can”. Bowser isn’t trying to marry Peach because he wants to “own” her, he wants to marry her because he quite literally wants to spend the rest of his life by her side.

Now that’s not to say that Bowser doesn’t feel any form of sexual attraction. But since Mario is such a kids-friendly franchise, the focus is much more on his romantic feelings. Also, I'll admit, whether Bowser is in love with Peach or with the idea of Peach is up for debate.

I think that’s the main reason why so many people are quick to call Bowser sweet/adorable when seeing the way he talks about Peach. Because the thing is, Bowser is still being a complete asshole here. He’s constantly kidnapping her, putting her in a cage on several occasions, forced her to marry him like 6 different times, very often disregards her body autonomy by grabbing her (+ the kidnappings), terrorizes and sometimes even tortures/kills her people, and his phone pic in the parental controls video + the picture frames in Nintendo World make him look like a creep. Despite his feelings for her, there’s definitely a level of objectification here that should not be ignored.

Hell, I didn’t mention the 2023 movie on the list because I’d argue he was more obsessed rather than in love. Plus the scene where he proposes to her low-key feels like the very first time they meet, making his previous actions creepier (or at the very least they barely know each other, heck Peach didn’t even know Bowser likes her!). And he’s quick to use blackmail and violence against her, especially in the end. The wedding cake toppers also show he cares more about himself than Peach and sees her as an object rather than a person.

(I actually take back what I said in my movie reaction post about Bowser being like the one from Super Paper. He might be goofy when showing his softer side, which was what I was focused on when comparing the two, but he’s also clearly not as genuine and sweet as Paper Bowser. The way he mistreats his army and especially Kamek in the movie is also different from most games, most notably the RPGs since that’s when we see him interact with his people and he’s a relatively good king to them.)

Compare 2023 Movie Bowser to the 1986 movie in which he tries to get Peach involved in the wedding preparations, tries to cheer her up, never gets angry at her despite how much she’s resisting him and never once raises his hand on her. Even when she outsmarts him by making him shapeshift, he’s amused by her attempt. Literally the worse he does in this movie is grab her against her will on many occasions (and obviously the kidnaping and forced marriage, that goes without saying).

Going back on topic, despite Bowser being very much horrible in the way he approaches Peach, since every other villain out there is lusting after the woman they capture, making them appear creepy/predatory, Bowser comes off as an angel in comparison. He’s one of those rare cases of a villain who is truly sincere about his feelings for the woman he captures, and since we see other occasions of him being a sweetheart (with Junior) and a dumbass (the RPG series), he becomes an incredibly endearing character. So his feelings for Peach come off as adorable despite the bad elements because we’re aware he has a soft side so we know he’s truly sincere. Him being sometimes more of an antihero in the RPGs + his inclusion in sports games and the like probably also help seeing him in that good light.

(Also yes I’m very much aware that there’s a huge issue when it comes to how fandoms perceive female characters, and I will absolutely believe you if you tell me this is one of the reasons why you have people who talk shit about Peach so much all while defending Bowser’s actions, especially since his feelings for Peach are so rooted into his character. Oh and obviously you have the people horny for Bowser who love his softer/romantic side and value the moments where he displays this part of himself, that goes without saying.)

I’m especially surprised by the 1986 movie showing such a characterization of him, considering it came out 1-2 years after the very first Super Mario game (aka Bowser’s first appearance, at least I think?). Like imagine making a movie about those characters and going “hey you know the giant turtle monster we fight in this game? What if he was a huge lovable dork who just wanted some love in his life?”. Tbh I adore that choice.

Overall, it’s just interesting to see how Bowser differs from other villains on that front. It’s very interesting to see a villain who does pretty terrible things to a girl all the while being genuine in his feelings for her, idk it’s a very cool contrast. I also like how “true love” tends to be a motivation for the heroes, seen as something good, so it’s fun to see stories where villains have that very same motivation without it being “““twisted””” with lust. And yes I know that last point applies to many more antagonists than just Bowser, and not just for feelings like love.

And a bit off-topic but I also really like how you can easily explain Bowser’s behavior here (not justifying it tho!!!). In the Yoshi Island games, we see he was raised as a spoiled brat who was always given what he wanted, made worse by him being a monarch. We even still see some of that behavior in his adult self, for example when he gets angry and starts stomping his foot like a kid throwing a tantrum.

As a result of his upbringing, Bowser likely just doesn’t know how to take a no. He’s used to always get what he wants, and take it by force if necessary. So when Peach refuses him, he does just that, incapable of understanding why she doesn’t want him.

The 86 movie is actually an excellent example of this. In two scenes (the one with Peach outsmarting him and the ring dialogue) we see Bowser getting worked up when Peach is upset, showing he genuinely wants her to be happy. But at the same time he’s incapable of realizing that he’s the reason why she’s so upset and the one thing he should do is let her go. The ring scene especially shows it very well. When Peach throws the ring and starts crying because she doesn’t want to get married, Bowser thinks she’s upset due to the ring being too big and immediately tries to soothe her by promising to get a better ring. Again, it’s kinda crazy how this movie was made when Bowser only existed for a single year and yet they already made him genuinely in love with Peach.

I’d also add that Bowser seems to have a pretty high opinion of himself, thinking he’s awesome and shit (or maybe he’s overcompensating, that seems like a possibility). As a result, it’s possible that his mentality on the situation is “Well I’m in love with her so surely she must love me! How could she not?”, making it even harder for him to comprehend why she doesn’t love him.

Again, it doesn’t justify his actions in the slightest but it’s still interesting how you can somewhat understand why he’s like this.

And as to why I ship Powser, honestly I still have no idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think it has to do with the storytelling potential of a unrequited love/it’s complicated/they have history situation in regards to their roles as monarchs, especially in the case of Peach whose character is brimming with untapped potential. I actually like to describe their relationship as “I hate the effect you have on my life but I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it” or “Our kingdoms are enemies for a good reason but if anything happened to you I’d rush in to save you without hesitation”. It's just that idea of them being ex-lovers who had a bad falling out and how Peach still cares about him to an extent and how their lives constantly intertwine with villains trying to take over their kingdoms + Bowser's kidnappings.

And since we’re talking Powser and since wondering whether they know each other or not in the movie got me to question how we can tell they know each other in the games: the best way I could describe their relationship in the games is familiar/”comfortable”, like you have the way Peach tries to convince Bowser to join the group in Super Paper, the way she talks about him in general in the Mario and Luigi games, or stuff like most cutscenes in Odyssey where she never seems afraid of Bowser.

I’ve also seen that Switch Tennis game with the evil racket and how Peach is the one who tries to get through to Bowser when he steals it, straight up saying “listen to me” which makes it seem like she knows she’s the one person who could get him to stop, or you have the first Rabbids game where she comments on how “Junior is sometimes even worse than his father”, plus the way she looks like a mother about to reprimand her child in the cutscene where Jr learns Bowser is coming home (which I find hilarious; lady that’s not your kid, I thought we’d been through this already in Sunshine!). Oh and CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY SHE’S LOOKING AT HIM IN (spoilers in link) THAT CUTSCENE FROM THE NEW RABBIDS 2 DLC!!!

I don’t know how to fully explain but, looking at these kinds of interactions, you can tell that the two of them know each other, and to an extent Peach knows that Bowser won’t hurt her, hence why she’s not afraid to oppose him. It’s pretty funny actually how in the games Peach tends to be exasperated by Bowser more than anything else. Like he’s not a menace, just a weekly annoyance. And again, when you compare it to the movie where there’s only hostility and awkwardness between them, you do get the impression that they’re two complete strangers meeting for the first time. The fact Movie Peach had no idea about his feelings for her doesn’t help either. Then again, about the hostility, Peach in the games is much sweeter so maybe she shows a nicer side to Bowser because that’s just who she is.

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.