#The Old Tumblr Tv trap

[this--is-serious-business]

LET HIM OUT

[absolutebl]

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

This is the point where I remind you that GMMTV announced 16 BLs for 2024 and didn't actually release 4 of them in 2024: My Golden Blood, Ossan‘s Love, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist, and The Ex-Morning.

So despite the fact that these are from GMMTV 2025 line up, some of them will not happen until 2026, and some could get dropped entirely or have cast changes.

I'm not including the GLs, grab bags, or possible bromances. Confirmed full-tilt gay af only.

In order of ones I'm most excited about.

Dare You to Death

trailer

JoongDunk as police investigators in a mystery suspense thriller. Yes, I'm in. This is it. This it the one I wanted to instantly watch. Even though their's 20 BLs airing right now.

This is the only trailer I immediately rewatched.

Boys in Love

trailer

Our only true high school BL from GMMTV and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and that is perfectly fine with me! I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they're using this one to test some new pairs for future seasons. Like a Project 101 Thai BL. (Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.)

Like My School President was in 2023, this could be a major 2025 sleeper hit for me.

Memoir of Rati

trailer

Sing the praise song with me BLabies! GreatInn in a HISTORICAL with a class divide and everyone's favourite side couple! Be still my heart! I'm beyond pleased. (Also I got my boat in a lotus pond at last.) My only concern is this could end sad, it's in the title after all.

This is the only trailer that gave me chills.

My Magic Prophecy

trailer

Paranormal mystery with a fortune teller and a doctor. I'm in. I hope the script doesn't fail JimmySea again, they are such a great pair. I'm intrigued by this one but it felt the most formless of all the trailers, so I'm thinking we could see some significant tweaks.

Me and Thee

trailer

A photographer gets involved with the mafia? OMG is this a Thai dupe for Target the Finder? Only mixed with Cyrano? WILD. I mean to say, this one is wild WILD! Plus Est (my love) back in suits and ear dongles I see. Also GMMTV never gonna let us forget they bagged two of BL's best bods with PP, thanks all for the visuals.

Of course this is for me. I'm the shallowest, remember? Plus I love a BL that's just a little bit...... well...... stupid.

A Dog and A Plane

trailer

A prissy gay flight attendant in a push-pull relationship with an EMT dude-bro. Characters are a bit throwback to PeteKao (no bad thing) not to mention the looming shadow of What the Duck? (bad thing). But the side couple is the always appealing MarcPoon.

Okay GMMTV, surprise me, I'm game. And you know TayNew are my OG GMMTV pair du jour.

Cat for Cash

trailer

Finally something fluffy with a pair I like. Looks cute. I like cute. Yay for me! Adorable gay boys and cats.

This one is basically made to be a tumblr comfort meme meets thirst trap. I see what you're doing GMMTV and I applaud you. Carry on.

That Summer

trailer

The only side pair to seriously level up. Okay so amnesia is my least favourite trope, and I tend to not be wild about secret identity either, but I like both pairs in this one, so I'll watch.

My Romance Scammer

trailer

New couple! My boys Ohm and Fluke (no, not that Fluke, the one from My Ride). Honestly, Fluke has popped up as a side in a couple GMMTV shows I was wondering who they'd BL him with.

This could win. Prettiest human on earth paired with the world's most potent single dimple. Will I survive? I honestly don't know, because Ohm historically doesn't have much chemistry with anyone but the original Fluke so... Still I l do love JuniorMark and this as a really unique premise (gay Heartbreakers), so I'm game.

Head 2 Head

trailer

The Boo kids are back. I don't love this pair (I find their chemistry and acting awkward) or the main trope (E2L) but I do like the new sides and their trope (2nd chance is a fav of mine). So this one will depend on whether those are full side dishes or just crumbs.

Ticket To Heaven

trailer

GMMTV is doing Boy Foretold by Stars concept? Interesting, did not have religious boundary pushing and bildungsroman down on he Thai BL bingo card.

This isn't my thing but I think G4 are actually going to be amazing in it and I certainly look forward to them pushing their acting chops. Not to mention the discomfort something like this can cause in general/global viewership. I like it when BL makes people (who aren't me) uncomfortable.

Burnout Syndrome

trailer

GMMTV doing edgy is never a good thing IMHO, and in this one they're handling sex work. *shakes head* However, Not Me is the noted exception and this is that same pair with the same director. So I'm curious if not wild about the content.

That said, I'm delighted to see Gun with someone else (Dew is a stunning choice, thank you Casting) even if only for a love triangle moment. It's been a WHILE.

Melody of Secrets

trailer

Not wild about ForceBook, do like a mystery, don't like horror or psychological thrillers... not sure on this one.

I like BL pushing into new territory, even if it's not my territory, but this is defiantly not made for me, that's for damn sure.

And that's the end of my list.

"But wait," you cry. "P'ABL you're still missing some."

How Dare

Only Friends Dream On

trailer

Yeah, no fuckoff. I will not be watching this. I already marked it pink on the Spreadsheet of Doom. (Pink means CNF or an automatic no watch for me.)

But dude was it nice to see all those pairs busted. That's always a good time for me. Anyway, all you so-n-sos who gave the first one your eyeballs are to blame for this. Watch it n weep. Without me.

(Side note: I love it when a title reviews itself, Only Friends: Dream On, indeed. It's like media aptronym.)

and last and definately least......

Love You Teacher

trailer

no

no no

NO NO

NO!!!

I do like Perth & Santa (although I'm not sold on them as a pair). But words cannot describe how much I dislike this premise. SERIOUSLY? No thank you very much. I could, just maybe, hate watch Only Friends 2, but it's gonna be hard for me to even turn this on. Infantilization and people acting like children wigs me tf out. YKINMKBYKIOK of course, but not in my BL GMMTV. Stop it! (This one also got the dreaded pink of will not watch.)

More Disappointments

Thor didn't get the lead in anything. (Pouts in "but he so sexy.")

No major pairs were significantly busted.

Tonally it's gone darker than I expected. I prefer lighter fluffier BL so this tonal shift for GMMTV as a whole is not a win for me personally. Should be left to Japan IMHO.

That said, most of my favorite GMMTV pairs are in my top picks to watch as well, so I'm happy for that.

I'm Intrigued Despite Myself

My favorite trailer of all was actually Wu (red thread fated paranormals are my favoritest thing ever next to isekai) but that's not a branded pair so I'm not convinced it's BL. Hoping it is, but that happened in 2024 with these boys, so I'll leave it in the air for now.

I like that we're making push to leave uni and high school behind (don't worry, other Thai studios will fill the gap). I think GMMTV is doing this in order to

keep branded pairs together and

keep the actors of those pairs interested in the BL scripts.

As their major pairs age out of uni, GMMTV has to hand them more meaty and grown up stuff. I didn't think they would actually do this, so I'm pleased to see it happen. Even if it's all going darker than I like, at least it's different.

I don't really report on GL and I rarely have time to watch it these days. I thought the new MilkLove looked cute, but I'm still recovering from whatever happen in their last one. The Girl's Rules one looks like a light-weight L-Word. Still happy to see GMMTV move out of school for thier few GLs too.

(source)

[wileycap]

The Stupidest Things In Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender: A List

a.k.a.

a whiny rant from someone who has dedicated far too many of their already limited number of braincells to atla i know it's just a tv show but come on this is what tumblr is for let me whine

For your consideration, with many spoilers:

5. Katara Being Smug After Kicking Jet's Ass

In the original, Katara is betrayed by Jet. You can feel the raw emotion in the words "I trusted you! You're sick, and I trusted you!" immediately followed by her concern for the innocent people Jet has seemingly murdered. It's not a triumph, it's a wound, and the next time she sees Jet, her first reaction is "kill on sight".

This is great. It's heartwrenching, it's humanizing, and Katara using violence against Jet isn't a victory for her. It's just pain.

In the live action, Katara very mildly chastises Jet for trying to kill innocent people, which is... an interesting characterization for her, to say the least. Jet then tries to grab her, immediately followed by Katara throwing him and freezing him. She then just tells him goodbye. Her tone is placid, almost unaffected.

And then Jet says "Look at the power you have. That's because of me!"

Katara: "That wasn't you. That was me."

And then she strides off with a small smile, and that's the end of that. Sokka and Aang are not present. It's an incredibly hokey moment that's meant to emulate the style of feminine empowerment, but it has none of the substance. It glosses over any human feelings of hurt and betrayal. All that the it ends up doing is removing a story beat for Katara.

4. The Badgermoles

"They're blind! They sense feelings and react to them! Anger, fear... but mostly love."

Katara and Sokka hold hands in a cave and it makes the badgermole stop attacking them.

The blind badgermoles. Navigate by... love.

Yeah.

Do I need to say anything? Can we all see (pun intended) how stupid that is?

3. Bumi Makes Aang Choose Between Killing Him Or Letting Himself Die To Make The Dumbest Point Imaginable

Remember Bumi? Aang's old friend, a fun, kooky king? Well, here he's an actual fucking psychopath.

He collapses part of the roof onto Aang, and Aang holds it up with airbending. Another part of the roof collapses on Bumi, and Bumi just... shrugs his shoulders, fully intending to die. Aang holds that one up as well, and Bumi, instead of helping, makes the dumbest fucking point I've ever heard about "making tough choices", and urges Aang to let the boulder crush him.

Again. Bumi, the fun, wise king, wants Aang to kill him.

The situation is defused by Katara freezing a little strip on the floor so that Sokka can very slowly slide on it and tackle Bumi to safety. I can not emphasize how slow his slide is. Running would have been faster. Bumi has time to look at him and say "Huh?" as Sokka slowly slides across the floor. Oh, yeah, they were led onto the scene by the love-sensing badgermoles.

Then it's Aang's turn to be dumb. He says "you CAN rely on your friends" and hands Bumi a friendship rock. Bumi is pacified for now, but there is no telling when his next Saw trap will activate.

This made me actually feel bad. I just. I kept expecting for it to turn into a secret lesson, like Bumi in the original show, but it never did. Bumi's just a spiteful psychopath who is easily swayed by the gifting of rocks.

2. Koh The Face-Stealer Has A Backstory Now

Why? Mother of Faces? What? No.

No.

Iroh Is Intimidated By Zhao, And Then He Kills Zhao

Ah, Live Action Iroh. The most ineffectual man on the planet.

So, Zhao has the Moon Koi in a bag, and is ready to stab it with his special stabbing implement. Iroh is standing right behind him. RIGHT BEHIND HIM. Iroh has been there the whole time. Iroh does not want Zhao to kill the fish.

Iroh says: "Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold!"

Remember how in the original, where that was like a big, shocking moment that he got angry? And how Zhao immediately let go of the fish, only to then have his anger get the best of him? How Zhao attacked the spirit by surprise?

Well, here it's a little different. For one, like I already said, Iroh doesn't come in suddenly, he sort of gets bullied into looking for the spirit by Zhao. Then he looks for the spirit, and after Zhao finds it, then he decides that he really has a problem with killing the spirit. He did protest before, but then he kind of just caved and helped anyways.

He threatens Zhao, and Zhao just... brushes him off. "Spare me your empty threats." Then the firebenders next to Iroh sort of... glower at him menacingly, and Iroh looks worried.

Zhao offers Iroh a place at his side once he becomes Fire Lord, which, uh? Okay. Fine. I actually don't have a problem with Zhao wanting to be Fire Lord, that seems to be entirely on brand for him, but everything he does to get to that goal is just stupid.

Aang arrives, they talk, Aang says "I don't matter", and then Iroh, who has sidled past the Glowering Firebenders Who Do Nothing Else, shoots the fish out of Zhao's hands. And then, as Zhao is on the ground, reaching for the fish with his special stabbing implement, Iroh forgets that he can shoot fire out of his hands, and lets Zhao stab the fish.

AND THEN Iroh, who literally stood by two different times and let Zhao kill the fish, decides to kick everyone's ass. And the Glowering Firebenders do nothing. One of them just stands in the background. Iroh doesn't even attack that guy.

In the original, Iroh immediately leaps into action after Zhao kills the spirit by means of surprise attack, takes out Zhao's guards in about a second, and Zhao escapes.

Here, he doesn't do anything at first except help Zhao find the spirit he doesn't want to see killed, then back down, then do something, then back down again, then do something again, then forget that he can do anything, and then he does something again.

It's just... so dumb. (So dumb it's brilliant!) No! It's just dumb!

And then, fifteen minutes later, after Zuko has dueled Zhao, Iroh kills him. Iroh just barbecues him by striking him from behind. Gee, Iroh, if you were willing to do that, why not just do it when Zhao was holding the fish?

Dishonorable mentions:

The fact that all of the actors fit their characters so well and have some great moments, but the show just doesn't support their performances at all. I feel so bad for all of them, being robbed of a chance to shine by some truly awful writing, editing and direction

The Ocean Spirit making Godzilla noises

June flirting with Iroh (didn't they say that they wanted to remove iffy stuff from the original? Well, that whole thing was iffy in the original. Why didn't you cut it entirely?)

Zuko doing the jazz hands to charge an attack

All the clunky and unnecessary exposition (for example: after Aang turns into the Ocean Spirit, Yue immediately turns to Sokka and narrates that Aang has turned into the Ocean Spirit, for almost 30 seconds)

The fact that Aang can only communicate with each Avatar at their shrines

The Ice Moon

The Cabbage Man literally turning to shout his line to the heavens while fire rages around him

The Secret Tunnel song being shoehorned in for no reason

Iroh's entire backstory being shoehorned in for no reason

Ozai being a caring dad actually

Zuko being shocked that Ozai prefers Azula

Gran Gran's speech

The fact that they showed Gyatso being killed by Sozin (literally nobody needed a big action scene, because that's what it was, predicated entirely on the genocide of the Air Nomads)

And finally, the fact that Sokka and Yue's reason for going to the Spirit Oasis is that Momo was fatally injured.

[surelysilly]

SuperPhantom Week 2024, go!

What: A week to celebrate the bestest crossover — Danny Phantom / Supernatural (TV 2005)! Fanfic, fanart, playlists/music, other multimedia or crafts, whatever you want, are all welcome! There are themed prompts for each day, so try to include it and more or as little as you want!

When: September 7th, 2024 - September 13th, 2024

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic) Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade Day 7: Sept. 13th - Free

*I will catch up on what I've missed in the following week to the best of my ability, but can't guarantee any swiftness. Submissions may show up the day after their prompt as I queue them up.

Sentence prompt for the week:

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

How: Post your works on Tumblr with the tags #superphantomweek2024 and #superphantom. I’ll reblog them here! Submissions to the week can also be added to this Ao3 Collection!

Just want everyone to have fun with this old little crossover here, so be free and be merry!!! <3

Below are extra details and information for each day.

Honorable mentions for extra brownie points:

Focus on side characters from either show! Last (few) season(s) nonsense Where do ghosts fit in the war between heaven and hell?

Day 1: Sept. 7th - Divine / Impiety

Do you think God lives in Heaven because He, too, lives in fear of what He's created Here on Earth? - Spy Kids 2

Divine: Angelic Presence, Angels, Grace, Holy, God(s), Wings, Pie, Fudge, Resurrection, Prophets

Impiety: Deals, Crossroads, Demon, Betrayal, Curse, Desecration, King of Hell, Abomination, Half-human (Nephilim, Cambion), Halfas (Half Angel & Half Ghost)

Day 2: Sept. 8th - Strange

There's something wrong with those boys... Something off about that house...

Too Many Eyes, Charade, Fleeting Glimpses, Veil, Death Defying, Midwestern Gothic, Limbo/Purgatory, Horror, Biblically Accurate, Ghosts, Weird Age Club

Day 3: Sept. 9th - Family / Outsider

This is about the blood of the covenant and the water of the womb, or neither or.

Family: Children, Childhood, Siblings, Old Friend, Blood, Fluff, Teamwork, Bonds

Outsider: Accidental Meeting, Secret, Outside POV, Found Footage, Ghost Facers, Wrongfully Accused, Strange Bedfellows, Incorrect Assumptions

Day 4: Sept. 10th - Song (Fic)

We've got a long road ahead of us... can't just sit in silence! Or can we...?

Mixtape, CD burn, Radio, Voice, Enochian, Ghost Speak, Silence, Lullaby

Day 5: Sept. 11th - Right / Left

The usual canon divergence, even canon compliance... or something even further removed!

Right: Time Travel, Pre-canon, The End AU, It's a Terrible Life AU

Left: Roleswap, Fantasy AU, Sci-fi, Multi-Crossover

Day 6: Sept. 12th - Tools of the Trade

These vary by profession. What are yours?

Overshadowing, Shot gun, Blade, Salt Circle, Trap, Ghost Portal, Ectoplasm, Impala, Feton AV, Cold Iron, Disguise, Fire, Possession, Wail, Monster of the Week, Summoning

Day 7: Sept. 13th - (Team) Free (Will)

New beginnings. Final endings. Let's do it all over again, it's only just getting started. Or is it?

Friday the 13th, Unlucky, Carry On My Wayward Son, Thrill, whatever you want!

*Take what you like, leave what you don't; these are all just extra suggestions for each day to help get the brain wrinkling up! Send any questions my way~

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Thank you so much for all the work you put into this archive. I've spent so many hours reading fics lately and enjoying every second thanks to you all!

I wonder if you have any recs for human!au fics where Crowley and Azi meet either online, as penpals or some other way that's anonymous, but maybe they don't know each other in real life or they don't know the other is their online friend/penpal. I really like the build-up towards meeting each other and things like that! I hope it's not too confusing. Any suggestions with those themes would be wonderful ❤️

We have loads of fics along these lines on our #social media tag, a specific pen pals post here, and you'll find similar kinds of fics our our #mistaken identity tag. I've got a bunch now, but I'm sure these'll all be on the tags mentioned, because there are only so many (unfortunately; I too love this trope!)...

Texts from an Unknown Number by GaryOldman (T)

The human wrong number AU I have been craving. Trapped at a boring Halloween party, Aziraphale tries to get in touch with Gabriel but his text ends up in the wrong place.

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Phoenix_Soar (E)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022

A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) by sixbynine (E)

"Crowley stood up and went to leave, he turned back just as he opened the door and took a deep breath. “You know I was quite excited to come here and work with you. I enjoyed reading your work. I disagree with a lot of it, but your writing style is lovely and every so often you’d let that privileged rich white boy mask drop and it was fantastic. I was hoping to meet that Professor Fell, but I’m beginning to think maybe he doesn’t exist and I’m going to be stuck with a rude stuck up arsehole for the next five years.” He slammed the door behind him before Aziraphale could respond. Aziraphale gaped, open mouthed, at the shut door." -- Aziraphale is teaching at Kings College London. He's been teaching at King College London for a long time now thank you very much and he does not take kindly to new Professors being sprung on him suddenly. Especially when this one has quite publically made his opinon of Aziraphale's work known. Luckily Aziraphale has an understanding penpal...

Readings From the Books of Ashtoreth by Quefish (E)

Vicar Aziraphale Bookman has a comfortable life. He lives in and serves the small village community of Tadfield. He enjoys contributing to local businesses, taking walks, and of course reading. His 'guilty pleasure', which gives him no guilt and all pleasure, is a series of novels by one AJ Ashtoreth. But what happens when he reaches out with an innocent bit of fanmail?

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

I Knew I Loved You by AppleSeeds (E)

In September 1999, when his family gets connected to the internet, prospective Marine Biology student Crowley discovers an online forum where he can actually talk to people who share his passion for saving the whales. He begins corresponding with a kind stranger he knows only as Ocean_Angel, and is incredibly excited when the opportunity arises to meet this mysterious person in real life. As their friendship develops, Crowley shares things with Angel that he can't talk about with anyone else, and Angel's insights help him to explore and embrace his own identity. As Crowley works towards finding a place in this world where he feels like he really belongs, he realises that a big part of the answer to that question might actually be right in front of him. What if where he belongs is with Angel?

Big Name Feelings by ghostrat (E)

FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.

- Mod D

[chaos0pikachu]

why did nobody tell me Kiseki Dear to Me went so hard??

Lemme break down the first 2 mins of episode one where a twink & a twunk walk out of prison and you know it's prison b/c the twinks hair needed some conditioner STAT and then rolls up this boss sports car out pops this gang looking dude with That Undercut Haircut and Thee Eyebrows that anyone who's watched History Trapped or Kinnposche knows what I'm talking about, tosses the Twink over his shoulder like a feral murder kitten and then we're whooshing to a flashback where 17 yr old twunk goes to pick up a quarter like any well respecting poor does (get that money!) when some feral but ridiculous hot dude covered in blood from the tumblr sonnets grabs his arm and Twunk is just channeling the Mariah Carey.I Don't Know Her.gif and Bloody Hot Dude is like here baby take my knife oop now you're implicated in my murder!! and has to take home this bloodied jean jacket 90s levi's commercial man to his house like being broke ain't hard enough

and then!! and then the episode ends with one of the hottest men in gang tv slitting a dude's throat while deep throating a lollipop I am ENTHRALLED

[bl-bracket]

Anyways I was going to make a post about the process of picking bracket topics and whatnot and was trying to come up with some examples of types of topics that would or wouldn't work and for whatever reason I thought of the concept of a "best murderer bracket" and I can't stop thinking about it lmao

it's just like such a funny concept? the idea of fictional murderers battling it out, especially ones from bls (which like I don't think is most people who are not super familiar with the genre as having a lot of characters who have killed people) is just funny in like an absurd way. like abstracting yourself from tumblr and tournament blogs, the idea of telling someone else that there's a tournament going for fictional murderers from east asian mlm tv shows, a genre that for several years was primarily shows about high school and uni students.

anyways that devolved into thinking about it more seriously, and then deciding a more practical way of doing it would to make some kind of directory of bl murderers. which would then lead to a lot of interesting statistical analysis, like characters with highest on screen kill counts, which countries have the highest proportion of fictional killers, etc. you can then make a separate category for characters with implied kills that aren't explicitly shown on screen or vague. and you could track how the number increases over time, which I assume exponentially goes up as more bls are exploring darker and more serious genres.

anyways back to the country stats, I started thinking about what the breakdown would look like so here's my guess based on zero research and just my general knowledge of shows

China. While having very few bls (censored or otherwise), they have a very unfair advantage and that is genre conventions. The 3 biggest Chinese bls I can think of are: The Untamed, Word of Honor, and Guardian. With The Untamed and Word of Honor, the conventions of xianxia and wuxia genres means that there are a lot of characters and almost all of them have killed before (usually nameless canon fodder but still). And then with Guardian, it's a supernatural detective mystery show with murder plots in it and a lot of characters, which again leads to a pretty high kill count. So even only counting these 3 shows, China will probably have the most killers in bl, or at the very least most kills done.

Thailand. It's a numbers game on this one. There's just so many Thai bls and an increasing number of like detective or mafia ones. A show like Kinnporsche has a lot of killers and deaths. Then there's other shows that include a few murderers (but less than Kinnporsche) like The Sign, Manner of Death, 4 Minutes, 3 Will Be Free, Never Let Me Go (Palm did shoot a couple guys dead elt's nto forget), Dead Friend Forever, etc. However the numbers also hurt Thailand in terms of proportions, since there's a lot more Thai bls that don't have murder, so it actually might be 3rd.

Japan. You're not getting much murder from your Cherry Magics and Old Fashion Cupcakes, which is what a significant portion of bl fan's primary exposure to Japanese bl is, but let's not forget that there's a lot of dark Japanese bls where murder is definitely on the table. Now I don't actually have a good gauge of what the numbers on this is, cause I haven't really delved that deep into this corner of the bl market, so I can't make a good estimation but I bet there's more than I'm aware of.

Taiwan. They've got a couple of mafia shows like HIStory 3: Trapped and Kiseki: Dear to Me, both of which have some implied and explicit murder (though less then you would expect if we're honest). That'll give them a few kills and they also have a relatively smaller pool of shows to pull from, meaning percentage wise it's a bit higher.

South Korea. Ok I am far from an expert of bls from South Korea, but unless there's like obscure short films I'm not aware of, the only drama I can think of from here with kills is Long Time No See? or I guess The Director Who Buys Me Dinner has like 1.5 murders? anyways Korea also has a not insignificant amount of bls to their name so proportionally it will be quite low.

The Philippines. Out of all the countries on this list, I am least familiar with the bls from here, but from what I've gathered during my routine mdl searches, basically all of them seem to be murder-free (unless of course there's some shocking plot twists in them)

anyways I'll probably never do this project just cause it would require a lot of time and collaborative effort and I've got a lot irl going on right now (hence why the submission period for most whipped is so long lol) and also have some other projects I'm already planning on doing so I don't really have time to do it. but I wanted to tell y'all about my thoughts on the matter.

also sorry if this is the weirdest thing I've ever posted. kinda had a major stress breakdown today but then resolved it relatively quickly cause I realized I could just reschedule the life altering appointment that was causing the breakdown lmao so I'm in a strange frame of mind lol

[benwalkerupdates]

(hopefully tumblr doesn't kill the quality LOL)

an interview that ben did with brandon voss for a january 2012 edition of playbill while promoting his run in cat on a hot tin roof!

also, full interview transcribed under the cut for anyone who needs it!

Benjamin Walker: A Walk on the Dark Side

After several presidential detours, Benjamin Walker comes back to the classics in Broadway’s Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

By Brandon Voss

He’s played presidents in the popcorn flick Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and the Broadway rock musical Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, but Benjamin Walker now faces one of his greatest challenges in leading a classic Tennessee Williams family drama. Walker, whose previous Broadway credits include revivals of Inherit the Wind and Les Liaisons Dangereuses, stars as tormented alcoholic Brick Pollitt opposite Tony winner Scarlett Johansson's Maggie in the latest revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which officially opens January 17 at Broadway's Richard Rodgers Theatre. The 30-year-old actor-comedian discusses the perils of onstage drinking and how he's found the funny in the dysfunction.

Playbill: You became an action star in Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and you’ll next appear onscreen in the HBO film Muhammad Ali’s Greatest Fight. As you branch out into TV and movies, how important is it for you to stay connected to the theatre?

Benjamin Walker: I started out in the theatre, and I'm never going to not be doing theatre. I love that the best literature is in the theatre, and I love the people in the theatre. I love that the theatre community is a real community, whereas the movie business is a business. I like working in that business too, and I'm inspired by people in that field, but it's the legacy of the theatre that keeps drawing me to it.

You showed tremendous loyalty to the theatre when you turned down the role of the Beast in the film X-Men: First Class in order to transfer with Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson from the Public Theater to Broadway.

That was a complicated decision, but it boiled down to the fact that I was going to regret not being a part of that show on Broadway. When you're lying there dying, those are the things you think about, and I didn't want that particular regret. I try to keep my regrets counted on one hand.

Realistically, that production may not have moved to Broadway without your involvement.

And those are my friends, man. We'd all grown with the show for so long. I was broke anyway, so I figured I could be broke a while longer. No big deal.

Unfortunately, Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson closed on Broadway after only 120 performances. Any regrets there?

Absolutely not. We took that show as far as it could possibly go. For that, I could not be more proud of the cast and everyone involved. I had dinner with [composer-lyricist] Michael Friedman a few weeks ago, and he was saying that Andrew Jackson is one of the top 10 most produced shows across the country. There are, like, four productions in Texas alone. That's remarkable. That's where the show should live and probably will for a long time.

What attracted you to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

Our director, Rob Ashford, was one of the first guys to give me a shot. We were going to do Brigadoon together a few years ago, but it fell apart. We've since worked together on a number of things, like opening the Smith Center for the Performing Arts in Las Vegas. I adore his work. He inspires me, and I knew that I could learn a lot from him. And Scarlett's not bad either! Based on those two components alone, I'd be interested in doing the play even if it were toilet paper.

Rob Ashford is an inspired choice for this revival, which marks his directorial debut of a non-musical Broadway production. He's a director-choreographer best known for his work on shows like Evita, How to Succeed, and Throughly Modern Millie.

Well, the play's very musical. It is music. It is poetry. It is dance. A trap of the play is to let the movement be worn down slow by the Southern heat, but these people really are like a cat on a hot tin roof — screaming, bouncing, constantly jumping in pain. The need for that physicality is something Rob really understands and is brilliant at pulling out of us.

One sometimes wonders why a particular play gets revived time and time again.

Oh, yeah. It's like, "Leave it alone! They got it right last time."

What is it about Cat on a Hot Tin Roof that people continually want to revisit?

It's about something that's truly timeless and that, because of the human condition, we will struggle with until we're extinct: The need to communicate and our inability to do so. It's also about the need to express love and feel love and how difficult that is. It's about the complexities of sexuality and how that's perceived. And it's about the idea of legacy and the future. A lot of plays only exist in a certain time, and when you watch them you're looking back on that time as if you're going to the Museum of Natural History. But when you read this play, the play's written so well that the poetry of the writing illuminates something about your own time. It's not a pageant of another era. It sheds a new light on your own issues with love and family.

What do you think separates this revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from others before it?

We're certainly bringing a sexuality and a vitality to the play in a way that I don't think has been done before. We're approaching it in a way that there's real potential for calamity. It's going to be a mess in the way that real life is. These people say what they mean and mean what they say with all their heart, so it's very passionate in the Shakespearean sense. There's nothing casual or lackadaisically Southern about it. These people could pop at any second. But I don't really find it productive to compare productions. I find that dangerous. It's been a long time since I've seen the 1958 movie, and I didn't see the Ashley Judd version on Broadway in 2003, so I don't really know what's different about our production. You'll have to tell me after you've seen it.

Did you not see the 2008 African-American revival with Terrence Howard either?

No, I didn't. I wish I had seen that.

Tell me something interesting that you discovered about Brick during the rehearsal process.

There are definitely some traps for Brick, particularly in the early few pages of the play when he doesn't say very much and he's drinking a lot. So much of his life is about trying to avoid issues, avoid feelings, avoid memories. That can be a trap for an actor, because you're not engaged with anyone, so it comes off as blasé, one-note and boring. It's like watching a boiling pot: You don't know what's going on inside if there's a lid on it, but if you know that it's boiling, you know it can blow at any second. Visually, both pots are almost the same, so you have to have that internal turmoil.

Much of your audience will likely be familiar with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof from the film or from recent revivals. The great Paul Newman famously played Brick onscreen. Do audience preconceptions put any additional pressure on you?

Nah. Screw ‘em. [Laughs] I don’t understand how that's helpful to anybody. Those expectations certainly aren't helpful for the audience. If you're expecting something, looking forward to something, you're going to miss something. It seems detrimental to your experience, and it's also detrimental to our work. But I don't think as many people do that as we think. At least I hope not.

You married actress Mamie Gummer last year. Are you drawing on the new marriage, with all its ups and downs, to enrich Brick and Maggie's relationship?

Luckily, my wife and I don't have that much in common with Maggie and Brick. [Laughs] But yeah, I draw from every relationship. And Scarlett also brings so much from her own life that really creates a lovely chemistry.

Although she's primarily a film actress, Johansson won a Tony for her Broadway debut in the 2010 revival of A View From a Bridge. What’s it been like to work with her?

Oh, she's great. She's classy, she's well prepared, and she's well suited for the part. She's the whole package and the real deal for sure.

What's the greatest challenge in playing your iconic role?

Finding a pee break. I have to keep drinking, refilling my glass, and I'm onstage the whole time! I might need to hide a spittoon in the corner. Other than that, where to begin? Tennessee Williams is the best, but he's certainly the most challenging writer that I've worked on in a long time.

As far as Brick's heavy drinking goes, how method have you been in your research?

Oh, my research on that has been well done for years. I'm typecast, if nothing else.

Brick is leaning hard on the bottle following the suicide of his close friend Skipper, who had confessed his romantic feelings for Brick. There has also been much debate about Brick's sexuality. Do you see him as gay?

Oh, I can't tell you that.

Is that mystery important for the audience?

It's a strength of the play that it talks about something bigger than that question. If you're asking that question on the way out, either I've done my job really well or I haven't done my job at all — I don't know. Human connection is so much bigger than the categories we like to put it in, which almost ruins it. But I can already hear my mom — "So was he gay?"

I assume that you know Brick's sexuality one way or the other when you step onto that stage.

Of course. I can't show up if I don't know that. I can't say Tennessee Williams' words if I haven't done that work. That would be a lazy actor right there. [Laughs] Yeah, maybe I'll just figure it out as I go. Maybe Brick's really in love with Big Mama!

You're also a stand-up comic and host of a variety series called Find the Funny. Are you finding the humor in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?

The more time I spend with my comedian friends, the more I realize that truly funny people are ones with a really deep inner darkness. Brick is definitely stewing over some painful stuff, and oftentimes people can only release that through humor, sarcasm, or being cutting in a way that causes nervous laughter. Tennessee Williams is a funny writer in the same way as Chekhov; if the audience isn't laughing, you've probably missed the point. There's a fine line between drama and comedy that we walk, and life is like that too.

Some theatregoers may compare your performance as Brick with your performance as Andrew Jackson. It's easy to dismiss those characters as having nothing in common, but have you noticed any similarities?

Yeah, actually. They're both very conflicted men at crossroads in their lives, and they have to make huge decisions that will affect the legacy of their families. Of course, the shows are very different. When a cell phone rang during Andrew Jackson, I could just yell, "Shut off your phone, you prick!" I have to get out of that habit.

You were born and raised in Georgia. Did that come in handy when working on your Southern accent for Brick?

My Southern accent's a little different than Brick's. The Pollitts are very high class and old money, but my accent is more country than Scarlett O'Hara. Working with the wonderful Deborah Hecht as our dialect coach, we actually looked at politicians like Jimmy Carter — people who needed this grandness to their language but also had a Southern thing going.

You seem to have lost your Southern accent altogether.

I have to fight it. They beat it out of me at Juilliard. My accent only comes out if I get angry, have a couple drinks, or talk to my mother on the phone. Then you can't understand a word I say.

[lilmisssona]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. A Knight In Christmas Armor ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

(Pt.1)

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Pairing - Seungmin x Fem Reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Plot - When your aunt leaves for a Christmas trip, she gives you the keys to her house and cats to look after, and you eagerly accept. However, strange and creepy things start happening, culminating in eerie voices echoing through a chilly night. After a scream sends your annoying ex-best friend, Seungmin, to your door, you find yourselves trapped inside with the cats and mysterious voices, as the faulty door won’t lock or open properly.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Genre - Supernatural, Action, Angst, Comedy, Fluff

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Warnings - Supernatural stuff, blood, a lot of swearing, mentions of sacrifice, action, angsty, hurt to comfort, fluff, horror comedy, non idol au, ex best friends to lovers

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Word Count - 9.7 K ࣪ ִֶָ☾.Screenshot Count - 1

࣪ ִֶָ☾. A/N - Episode 7 of Staymas is here, bringing a mix of supernatural fantasy and comedy because what’s Staymas without a hint of horror? It’s my first attempt at this genre in a while, and while I feel it’s a bit rushed, I’d love to hear your thoughts! (Slightly proofread, so apologies for any mistakes 🙂‍↕️ ) Split into two parts because Tumblr, as always, hates me 🙄

SKZ Masterlist STAYMAS Masterlist

Part 2 Here

December had finally arrived, bringing with it the familiar chill of winter and the steady approach of Christmas. Yet, this year felt lonelier than ever. Your parents had decided to visit your grandparents in Busan, and with your office rejecting your leave request, you were stuck in Seoul, surrounded by festive cheer you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy.

That’s when Aunt Choi called, her warm yet teasing voice breaking through your gloom.

“Would you mind babysitting Pepper and Sage for a week?” she asked, explaining she’d be heading to Jeju to spend Christmas with her family. Her beloved cats needed someone to look after them.

At first, you hesitated. Spending the holidays alone in your quiet apartment wasn’t exactly appealing, but the thought of staying in her cozy old house with two fluffy companions seemed like the perfect distraction. “Sure, I’ll do it,” you agreed.

When you arrived at her house on a frosty winter afternoon, Aunt Choi greeted you at the door with her usual mischievous smile. Her hands were cold as she pressed a set of brass keys into your palm.

“Take care of Pepper and Sage kindly,” she instructed, her tone light but firm. “They’re shy and take a while to trust new people.”

You nodded, ready to reassure her, but then she added something strange. “Also, the house whispers sometimes. Just ignore it.”

“Whispers?” you repeated, your brow furrowing.

“You know, old house noises,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Creaks, groans, things like that.”

You shrugged it off. “Alright.”

She started to leave but then paused, her expression shifting to something darker. “Oh, and one more thing.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “If you ever hear her scream, leave immediately.”

Her scream? A chill ran down your spine. “What do you mean by....”

Before you could finish, Aunt Choi was already walking briskly down the street, her coat billowing in the wind...

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The first day passed without incident. Pepper and Sage stayed distant, watching you from the shadows as you unpacked your belongings. You tried to coax them closer, offering gentle words and treats, but they remained cautious. By evening, the house was quiet. You curled up on the couch with a bowl of steaming ramyeon, a lighthearted K-drama playing softly in the background.

And that’s when you heard it.

“Hello,” a faint whisper echoed.

Startled, you glanced at the TV, thinking it must have been part of the show. The scene on screen was tense, the kind of moment that would have eerie background sound effects. You laughed nervously and resumed eating.

But then, it came again, clearer this time.

“Can you hear me?”

Your chopsticks slipped from your hands, clattering loudly onto the table. Your pulse quickened. Pepper and Sage, who had been lounging nearby, suddenly sprang to attention. Their fur bristled as they hissed, their wide eyes fixed on the kitchen.

You turned toward the kitchen, your gaze following theirs. The room was dark, shadows pooling in every corner, their shapes shifting as if alive. It looked empty, but a nagging sensation told you it wasn’t. Someone or something was there, hidden in the darkness, watching.

Heart pounding, you rose slowly from the couch and grabbed the metal bat Aunt Choi had left by the living room door. Its cold weight steadied your trembling hands as you tiptoed toward the kitchen, each step echoing in the stillness.

Reaching the light switch, you hesitated for a moment before flicking it on. The room was suddenly bathed in brightness, every detail sharp and clear. The counters were spotless, the cupboards closed, and there was no sign of movement. Nothing out of place. Nothing to explain the voice.

You let out a shaky laugh, your breath misting in the cold air. “Nice try, Aunt Choi. I’m not falling for it,” you muttered. But as you turned to leave the kitchen, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the house was listening.

That night, something unexpected happened. Pepper and Sage, who had avoided you all day, climbed into bed with you. Their soft fur and rhythmic purring brought a surprising sense of comfort, one you didn’t realize you needed.

“You two like me now, huh?” you murmured, running your hand over their silky backs. They nuzzled against your neck, their warmth easing your thoughts and lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

But peace was not what the night had in store.

At exactly 2:30 a.m., your phone alarm blared, shattering the stillness of the house. Startled, Pepper and Sage leapt off the bed, their claws skittering against the wooden floor, while you fumbled to silence the piercing noise.

“Stupid alarm,” you muttered groggily, your hands fumbling with the screen until the sound ceased.

Stretching to shake off the awkward stiffness in your back, you swung your legs off the bed. Thirst clawed at your throat, so you decided to head downstairs for water. Pepper and Sage watched you closely, their glowing eyes glinting in the dim light before they cautiously followed, their steps soft but hurried, as if they didn’t want to lose sight of you.

In the quiet kitchen, the cool water refreshed you as you drained two full glasses. The house was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator. As you set the glass down, a chilling realization gripped you: your phone didn’t have an alarm set for 2:30 a.m. In fact, it wasn’t even with you, it was still lying on the coffee table in the living room.

“So… what was that?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your heartbeat. A chill crawled up your spine as the truth began to sink in.

And then, as if on cue, the kitchen lights went out, plunging the room into total darkness.

Your breath hitched, the sudden shift pressing an invisible weight onto your chest. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Pepper and Sage hissed, their bodies stiff as they fixed their eyes on something, something right beside you.

You clenched your fists, forcing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look. But then it came, a cold, unnatural breeze brushing past your ear, sending icy shivers down your spine.

Summoning what little courage you had, you opened one eye.

Standing before you was a faint silhouette. The figure, a woman, was pale and translucent, her very presence draining the warmth from the air. Her lips moved slowly, unnaturally, as she spoke in a voice that seemed to echo from another world.

“Do you love me?”

Your throat tightened as you tried to scream, but no sound escaped. You were frozen, paralyzed by fear.

Pepper and Sage hissed louder, their tiny bodies trembling but steadfast. The woman’s hollow gaze flickered toward them, and just as quickly as she’d appeared, she vanished, her form dissolving into wisps of smoke.

Relief washed over you, but your legs gave out beneath you. The last thing you remembered was collapsing onto the cold kitchen floor before darkness consumed you....

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

When you opened your eyes, sunlight was streaming through the curtains. You were back in bed, Pepper and Sage curled up beside you, purring softly.

“Just a dream,” you murmured, rubbing your temples. But your body felt heavy, and an inexplicable ache lingered in your chest. Shaking it off, you got up to start your day.

The second day passed without incident. After feeding Pepper and Sage and tidying up, you left for work. The office was its usual dreary self, but the thought of returning early to the cozy house and your feline companions kept you going. By the time you arrived back, the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow across the sky.

Pepper and Sage greeted you at the door, their tails flicking as they meowed softly.

“Missed me already?” you joked, scratching behind their ears. They followed closely as you made your way to the living room.

But as you stepped inside, your breath caught in your throat.

On the coffee table, where you’d last seen your phone, lay a single white rose atop a folded note. The sight sent a chill through your body. Slowly, with trembling hands, you picked up the paper. The edges crinkled as you unfolded it, revealing a message scrawled in red ink:

Do you still miss me?

Your stomach churned. The words were hauntingly familiar, but you couldn’t place them. Glancing nervously around the room, you half-expected the ghostly woman to reappear. Pepper and Sage stayed glued to your legs, their low growls breaking the silence.

Grabbing the bat from the corner of the room, your hands trembled as you searched every nook and cranny of the house. Shadows seemed to shift in the corners of your vision, and every creak of the floorboards set your heart racing. But there was nothing. No one. The house was empty, or so it seemed.

When you returned to the living room, the rose and note still sat there, an ominous reminder of the night before. Deciding to send Aunt Choi a picture, you reached for your phone only to find it displaying a "no service" message. Frustration and fear bubbled up as you stared at the screen.

And then, a notification pinged, shattering the tense silence.

It was a text.

From him.

Rage bubbled inside you as you glared at the screen. He was the one who betrayed you, and now he had the audacity to play the victim to accuse you of clinging to the past.

The nerve!

With a frustrated sigh, you shoved your phone into your pocket, dismissing his words. Marching to the kitchen, you tried to channel your anger into something productive, like making dinner. For now, you shoved aside thoughts of the rose, the note, and the unsettling events of the night.

After preparing a quick meal and feeding Pepper and Sage, you retreated to your bedroom, desperate for the sanctuary of sleep. It wasn’t even 9 p.m., but you curled up under the covers, exhaustion and frustration weighing heavily on you. The cats climbed in beside you, their warm bodies pressing close as if they could sense your unease.

But peace was a fleeting luxury.

The temperature in the room dropped abruptly, the chill seeping through your skin and pulling you from the brink of sleep. Pepper and Sage perked up, their ears twitching and their bodies tense. Then, you heard it again,the whispers.

“Y/N…”

“Hello…”

“Can you hear me?”

The disembodied voices swirled around the room, weaving through the walls like tendrils of smoke. You froze, pulling the covers tighter, hoping it was all in your head. But the whispers grew louder, relentless, burrowing into your thoughts like a parasite.

Your breath hitched as the whispers suddenly ceased, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake. Slowly, you lowered the blanket, daring to peek into the room. For a fleeting moment, you thought it was over.

And then it came.

An ear-piercing scream tore through the house, raw and unearthly, making you cry out in terror. Pepper and Sage bolted under the bed, their tails puffed up in fear. Trembling, you clamped your hands over your ears, desperate to drown out the horrific sound.

Then came the knocking.

At first, it was faint, like a hesitant tap. But it grew louder, each knock reverberating through the house, demanding attention. You stared toward the hallway, your pulse racing, the bat from earlier still lying beside you.

Gripping it tightly, you forced yourself to move, your feet feeling like lead as you descended the stairs. Each knock seemed to echo louder in the suffocating silence. With a surge of courage or sheer desperation you reached the door and swung it open, the cold night air rushing in.

There he was.

Seungmin.

He stood on the porch, his eyes wide, his breath misting in the icy air. His expression was a mix of concern and nerves as he shifted awkwardly, clearly caught off guard.

“Sorry to interrupt,so late…” he started hesitantly, his voice low. “But I… I heard screaming. I live next door and thought...” His voice trailed off as his gaze met yours, recognition flashing across his face.

“Y/N?”

“Kim Seungmin,” you muttered, your knuckles whitening as you gripped the bat.

“What are you doing here?” you snapped, the anger from his messages still fresh in your mind.

“I told you, I heard screaming,” he replied defensively, his hands raised slightly in surrender. “I thought something was wrong.”

“No need to be my knight in shining armor Seungmin.I don’t need your help,” you shot back sharply. “You can leave.”

Before he could respond, the house plunged into darkness. The lights flickered out, and a suffocating silence enveloped the air.

Then came the thud.

It was loud and heavy, reverberating through the house like something or someone had fallen. The scream followed, raw and blood-curdling, ripping through the silence and freezing you in place.

Instinctively, you jumped forward, colliding into Seungmin’s chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, steady despite his own trembling. You could feel his heartbeat pounding as fast as yours.

Even then, he still managed a dry, sarcastic comment.

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice low and steady despite the chaos, “looks like I am your knight in Christmas armor.”

“Shut the fuck up!” you snapped, stepping out of his embrace and furiously brushing yourself off, as if his very touch burned. A flicker of disappointment crossed Seungmin’s face, brief but undeniable, before he masked it with his usual composed, neutral expression.

“Look, Seungmin...” you started, your tone sharp and unforgiving, but he silenced you with a finger gently pressed to your lips.

“I don’t want to argue with you right now, Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but edged with urgency. “We’re in danger, and we need to get the hell out of here!”

Before you could retort, he grabbed your hand, his grip firm and unyielding. But you yanked it away, your glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

“I’m not leaving without Pepper and Sage!” you snapped, your voice cutting through the tense silence.

“Who?” he asked, clearly baffled.

“The cats!” you barked, exasperation dripping from every word.

Seungmin let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in visible frustration. He closed his eyes briefly, likely summoning the last shred of his patience. “Fine. We’ll take them with us!”

Wasting no time, you called out to Pepper and Sage. The two cats darted out from their hiding spot, their wide eyes glowing in the dim light. Scooping them up, one in each arm, you held them tightly as you and Seungmin rushed toward the door.

But just as you reached it, the door slammed shut with a deafening bang, the sound reverberating through the house like a warning. You staggered back, nearly losing your grip on the cats.

“No! No, no, no!” you cried, panic rising in your chest, your voice cracking. “This can’t be happening!”

Seungmin stepped forward, his jaw tightening as he rolled his eyes. “Relax. It’s probably just the wind,” he muttered, gripping the doorknob and giving it a hard pull. When it didn’t budge, he tried again, his knuckles whitening as he applied more force. Still, the door refused to move.

“Great,” you hissed through clenched teeth, carefully setting the cats down on the floor. Crossing your arms tightly, you glared at him. “Just great!”

Seungmin turned to you, his frustration mirrored in his expression. “We can just call a locksmith or something...”

“Oh, sure,” you interrupted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Go ahead. Try it.”

With a scowl, he pulled out his phone, tapping at the screen. A moment later, he groaned in frustration. “No signal,” he muttered. “Can I use your phone?”

You let out a bitter laugh, holding up your own phone to display the glaring lack of signal bars. “It’s been like this since I got back tonight,” you snapped.

Seungmin’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Wait....if the house has been acting like this, why didn’t you leave earlier?”

“That’s none of your business!” you shot back, your voice rising as fear and frustration tangled together. “And for your information, this is my aunt’s house. I’m here to babysit...”

A low, guttural growl rumbled through the room, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You froze, your breath hitching as your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the couch for balance. The sound was unnatural, deep and resonant, vibrating through the walls like a living entity.

Seungmin’s head snapped toward the hallway, his grip tightening on the bat he still held. His voice dropped to a tense whisper. “What the hell was that?”

“I...I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you unconsciously inched closer to him.

Pepper and Sage hissed in unison, their fur standing on end as their unblinking eyes locked on the dark hallway. The growl faded, leaving behind an eerie, oppressive silence that seemed to breathe around you.

Seungmin’s jaw clenched as he finally spoke, his voice barely audible but filled with resolve. “Change of plans. We’re not just leaving...we’re running. Find another way out. Now!”

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

A chilling laugh pierced the air, sharp and mocking, wrapping around you like a blade. It was followed by a rasping voice, low and menacing, as if it came from the very walls themselves. “Trying to leave, aren’t we?”

You froze, every muscle in your body locked in place as terror coursed through you. The oppressive silence that followed was suffocating, a vacuum that seemed to pull the air from your lungs. The voice lingered, a haunting echo vibrating faintly, as though the house itself was alive and listening.

Pepper and Sage were tense, their fur bristling, their tails puffed up like bottle brushes. Low hisses escaped their throats as their wide eyes darted between you and the shadowy hallway ahead, their movements jerky and panicked.

“We’re wasting time,” Seungmin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on the bat tightened, his knuckles white against the wood. His eyes flicked to the shifting shadows that seemed to stretch and crawl across the room. “We need to move. Now!”

Before you could reply, a bone-deep chill swept through the room, cutting into you like icy needles. The air grew heavy, suffocating, pressing down on you with an unseen force. The lights above flickered erratically, their glow casting fractured shadows that twisted and danced unnaturally on the walls, almost as if they had a life of their own.

And then it hit you, the scent. Sweet, cloying, and overpowering. Roses. The fragrance filled the air, suffusing every corner of the room, thick and inescapable. It wasn’t just a smell; it was a presence. It crept into your lungs, your head, your very senses, leaving you lightheaded and trembling.

Your heart dropped as recognition struck like a lightning bolt. It was the same scent as the rose on the table. The same one from the note.

Your breathing hitched, your chest tightening as fear clawed at your throat. And then, through the flickering light and twisting shadows, she appeared.

At first, it was just a faint shimmer, a ripple in the air like heat rising off asphalt. But slowly, it solidified, and a figure began to take shape at the far end of the hallway. She was draped in a tattered wedding dress, its once-white fabric yellowed with age but somehow glowing faintly in the dim light. Her veil fluttered eerily, though no breeze stirred. Her translucent form carried an unsettling beauty—until you looked at her face.

Her eyes were voids, bottomless pits of shadow that seemed to pierce into your very soul. And her smile… it was soft, almost serene, but beneath it simmered something twisted, something that made your knees weak and your chest tighten.

“Do you love me?” she asked, her voice a haunting melody that resonated unnaturally, each word vibrating in your bones.

Seungmin immediately stepped in front of you, gripping the bat like a lifeline. “Stay back!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of fear he tried to mask.

The bride tilted her head, the motion unnervingly childlike, though her smile widened with sickening sweetness. “Why would I hurt you, Seungmin?” she purred. Her hollow gaze flickered to you briefly, then back to him. “You promised me, remember?”

Your stomach churned. “What the hell is she talking about?” you hissed, grabbing Seungmin’s arm.

“I don’t know!” he snapped, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. His uncertainty sent a chill down your spine.

The bride’s smile faltered, her expression darkening. Her voice dropped to a whisper that dripped with malice. “You don’t remember me?” She glided forward, her movements too smooth, too unnatural. “The promises you made under the moonlight? The vows you swore would last forever?”

Seungmin’s face went ghostly pale, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

“Seungmin,” you said urgently, shaking his arm harder now, “what is she talking about? Did you....”

“I don’t know her!” he shouted, cutting you off, his voice frantic.

The bride’s soft laughter rang out, each note sharp and mocking. “Oh, but you do,” she murmured, her tone venomous. “You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I remember everything. And now…” Her gaze snapped to you, her smile curling into something cruel. “You’ve brought her here. To replace me.”

Your breath hitched as the air around you grew colder, sharper, biting into your skin. The bride’s serene expression twisted into one of rage, her voice deepening to a guttural growl. “Do you love her, Seungmin?”

Seungmin stumbled backward, his free hand clutching yours tightly. “We need to move,” he whispered urgently.

“Where?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“Anywhere but here!”

Before you could take a step, the bride raised a ghostly hand. Behind you, the door slammed shut with a resounding boom, and the windows sealed themselves with echoing clicks.

“You’re not leaving,” she said coldly, her voice echoing like a dreadful chorus. Her translucent form shimmered, her presence looming larger. “Not until you answer me. Do you love her?”

“Run!” Seungmin yelled, dragging you toward the stairs.

But as you reached them, the wood beneath your feet shifted. A sharp crack filled the air, and the steps flattened, sending you both tumbling painfully to the floor below.

Groaning, you clutched your side, wincing as pain shot through your ribs. Above you, the bride’s laughter rang out again, taunting and merciless. “Told you,” she sneered, materializing before you once more.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin asked, his voice tight with worry as he helped you to your feet.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, glaring at the bride through the haze of fear and pain. “What do you want from us?”

Seungmin raised the bat again, his voice shaking with anger. “Leave us alone!”

The bride’s veil fluttered unnaturally as she cocked her head, her hollow gaze almost playful. “So brave,” she murmured. “Very well. I’ll let you go… but only if you prove yourselves worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” you snapped, frustration and fear boiling over.

“Of love,” she replied, her lips curling into a sinister smile. “Complete my tasks, and I shall set you free. But fail…” Her voice dropped, becoming a bone-chilling whisper. “And you’ll remain here. Forever.”

Suddenly, Seungmin’s gaze locked onto an opening, a window. His grip on the bat tightened, and without hesitation, he shouted, “To hell with your tasks!” Grabbing your hand, he yanked you toward it with frantic urgency.

“Seungmin, wait!” you cried, stumbling to keep up, but he didn’t stop.

The ghost bride’s laughter echoed through the room, chilling and mocking. “Do you really think you can escape me?” Her voice slithered through the air, dripping with malice.

“Watch me!” Seungmin snarled, raising the bat high as he closed in on the window.

But as he reached it, the window slammed shut with a deafening crash. The sound reverberated like thunder, leaving the room trembling. Seungmin’s jaw tightened, and with a growl of frustration, he swung the bat at the glass with all his might. The force sent shockwaves up his arms, but the glass didn’t crack. It didn’t shatter. Not even a scratch appeared.

“Come on!” he bellowed, swinging again and again, each strike more frenzied than the last. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he poured every ounce of strength into breaking free. Yet the window remained unyielding, a taunting, impenetrable barrier.

The ghost bride’s voice rang out, dripping with cruel amusement. “Oh, Seungmin,” she taunted, her tone honeyed but wicked. “You can’t break what isn’t real. Haven’t you realized yet? You’re mine.”

Seungmin’s frustration erupted in a guttural yell as he slammed the bat to the floor with a force that rattled the room. “Dammit!” he shouted, his chest heaving, his breath uneven.

You placed a trembling hand on his arm, your voice barely a whisper. “Seungmin… stop. It’s useless.”

He turned to you, his eyes wild with a storm of anger and helplessness. “So what? You want us to just sit here and play her twisted games? No way.”

But despite the fire in his voice, he sank onto the couch, his shoulders slumping under the weight of defeat. You followed, sitting beside him as the suffocating silence of the room pressed in from all sides. Neither of you dared to speak, the tension as heavy as a thick fog. Your hands shook uncontrollably in your lap, curling into fists in a vain attempt to steady yourself. But the tears came anyway, silent, relentless, beyond your control. Exhaustion made you indifferent to wiping them away.

The quiet stretched on, unbearable and thick. Finally, the weight of everything overwhelmed you, and the tears fell freely, a quiet admission of the helplessness consuming you.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin muttered suddenly, his voice barely audible. He stared at the floor, his expression unreadable.

You shook your head, your voice raw. “It’s not your fault. None of this is.”

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

Before you could say anything else, the room flickered to life. The television powered on with a loud click, its eerie light casting shifting shadows against the walls. Static buzzed briefly before clearing. Words began forming on the screen, their playful, sinister font twisting in an unnatural dance:

“Make a meal together; it warms your heart with every bite.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened. “What the hell is this?” he muttered.

“She’s toying with us,” you said, your voice trembling.

The bride’s laughter rang out again, surrounding you, suffocating you. “A little teamwork never hurt anyone,” she cooed, her voice as mocking as it was chilling. “Show me your love, and perhaps I’ll let you leave.”

Seungmin shot to his feet, his fury igniting as he glared at the screen. “This is insane! You want us to cook for you? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” the bride’s voice replied, smooth yet ice-cold. “It’s for you. For each other. Love begins in the little things, don’t you think?”

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair as frustration bubbled over. “This is ridiculous. We’re not doing this.”

Seungmin’s voice softened, almost breaking. “Y/N…” The fear in his eyes made your stomach twist. “What choice do we have?” he whispered. “If we don’t do what she wants… we’ll never get out of here.”

You hesitated, your jaw tightening as you fought the logic in his words. Memories of distant promises and the ghost’s accusation, ex-best friend, lingered in your mind like an unanswered question. “This is so messed up,” you muttered, your stomach twisting. But finally, you nodded. “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

The television clicked off abruptly, plunging the room back into a chilling silence.

Then, without warning, the kitchen lights blazed to life. The space transformed before your eyes, now immaculately pristine yet unnervingly surreal. Neatly arranged ingredients and utensils lined the countertops, every item positioned with unsettling precision as though the scene had been waiting for you.

You and Seungmin exchanged a wary glance, unease rippling between you. But with no other choice, you stepped toward the kitchen.

The ghost bride’s voice slithered through the air once more, smug and cold. “Make it with love,” she whispered. “Every bite counts.”

“Tofu, gochugaru, chicken stock, kimchi, soy sauce, garlic…” Seungmin scanned the ingredients, his eyes darting between each item. His lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile as he murmured, “Looks like we’re making sundubu jjigae tonight… just like old times.” His eyes met yours briefly, flickering with a shadow of something you couldn’t quite place.

You glared at Seungmin, the warmth of old memories clashing with the simmering anger in your chest. “Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He flinched, the weight of unspoken guilt evident in his expression. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The air between you was suffocating as you both moved to complete the task, the ghost bride’s ominous laughter still lingering like a cruel echo. Despite the charged silence, your movements synced in an odd, unspoken rhythm. There were awkward moments, a brush of fingers here, a fumbled handoff there but neither of you acknowledged them. Slowly, the dish began to take shape. The tofu, sliced into precise cubes, bobbed in the bubbling broth, rich with the tangy heat of kimchi and the vibrant red of gochugaru. The aroma of Sundubu Jjigae filled the space, stirring memories you had long buried.

Finally, the dish was complete. You both stood back, staring at the finished stew. The vibrant hues of the kimchi and tofu stood out against the dark, glossy broth. It looked perfect, almost too perfect for the chaos surrounding you.

Seungmin shifted beside you, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It smells... just like before,” he muttered, glancing at you.

You ignored the pang in your chest and picked up a spoon, the warm aroma curling around you. The first bite brought a rush of flavor that made your eyes widen in surprise. The stew was rich, spicy, and deeply comforting so much so that for a fleeting moment, the oppressive weight of the room seemed to lift.

“It’s... good,” you admitted, the words slipping out reluctantly. You hated how it brought a small, fleeting smile to Seungmin’s lips.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, hope flickering in his voice.

You didn’t answer, instead handing him a bowl. The two of you ate in tense silence, the quiet punctuated by the occasional clink of spoons against ceramic. For a moment, it almost felt like old times, like you were a team again. Almost.

But Seungmin broke the illusion. “YN,” he began hesitantly, his voice low. “I’m sorry... for everything. For ghosting you. I should’ve been there.”

You froze, your spoon hovering mid-air, before setting it down with a sharp clink. “Don’t,” you said, your voice brittle. “You don’t get to do this now. You left, Seungmin. No explanation, no goodbye. You don’t get to apologize and expect it to fix everything.”

His jaw tightened, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I know,” he murmured. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I....”

“Enough,” you interrupted, your voice rising slightly. “It doesn’t matter now.”

The air crackled with tension, thick and suffocating, before the ghost bride’s mocking laughter pierced through it like a blade. Her voice echoed from every corner of the room, cold and taunting. “Ah, such delightful drama,” she purred. “But you’re not done yet.”

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

The room shifted suddenly, the air growing colder as the lights dimmed. The kitchen vanished, replaced by an unsettlingly romantic setup. Candlelight flickered across the table, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The scent of roses overwhelmed your senses, sickly sweet and cloying. A table for two stood at the center, adorned with fine china, silverware, and a bottle of wine that seemed to gleam ominously.

“What is this now?” Seungmin asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You shook your head, your lips pressing into a thin line. “Her idea of a joke, apparently.”

The ghost bride appeared in the shadows, her translucent figure floating effortlessly. Her grin was sharp, her voice dripping with malice. “A romantic dinner. Just the two of you,” she cooed. “I want to see love rekindled.”

Seungmin glanced around the transformed room, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I... didn’t expect this,” he muttered, disbelief thick in his voice.

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “What are we supposed to do here? Pretend this is normal?”

He let out a nervous laugh, his hands fidgeting with the silverware in front of him. The suffocating awkwardness in the air was almost tangible, made worse by the ghost bride’s cold, knowing smile hovering in the background.

“So, uh... this is romantic, huh?” Seungmin said dryly, reaching for a wine glass in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “Romantic? We’re trapped in a haunted house with a ghost forcing us to make dinner, and who knows what else.”

“Right,” Seungmin murmured, a nervous chuckle slipping out. His eyes darted to yours briefly before he hesitated, his expression uncertain. “Okay, so... do you want to talk about anything? I mean, since we’re here.”

The question hung in the air, thick and heavy. The tension between you was palpable, but an odd thread of humor weaved through it as you both fumbled to make the situation less unbearable. Reaching for your wine glass, you were stopped short when Seungmin grabbed it first.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protested, leaning forward with a grin to snatch it back.

“No way,” he countered with a smirk. “I’m the one who gets to drink first.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I miss the royal decree that makes you the king of wine?” you shot back, an eyebrow arched.

Seungmin snorted, clearly amused. “At least I’m not the one trying to chug all the wine just because this is supposed to be a ‘romantic date.’”

You narrowed your eyes in mock irritation. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”

“Go ahead,” he teased, his smirk widening. “See how that works out for you.”

Before you could fire back, the ghost bride’s chilling laughter echoed through the room, louder and more pointed this time. “Oh, come on, you two. Can’t even enjoy a meal together?” Her voice dripped with mockery, her head tilting in amusement as if she were thoroughly entertained by your awkward exchange.

You stared down at your plate, your appetite fading. “What’s there to talk about?” you muttered, your voice sharp with lingering resentment. “It’s been what months, Seungmin ? You disappeared without a word.”

Seungmin flinched at the accusation, his guilt evident in the way he avoided your eyes. “Yeah... I know. And I’m sorry. I should’ve....”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your tone flat and unwavering. “I don’t want to hear it.”

He faltered, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came out. The silence that followed was suffocating, every scrape of silverware and shift in posture amplified in the stillness. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily between you, while the ghost bride’s watchful gaze loomed over the table, as though eagerly awaiting the next spark of conflict.

“So...” Seungmin tried again, forcing a weak smile as he gestured to the food. “What do we do now? Eat?”

You gave him a look of pure exasperation. “Yeah, I guess that’s the whole point.”

The two of you ate in tense silence, though neither seemed to actually enjoy the meal. Seungmin kept stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, only to quickly look away when you caught him. You, in turn, picked at your food, determined not to meet his gaze.

Then, cutting through the oppressive quiet like a blade, the ghost bride’s voice echoed once more, her tone icy and amused. “You’re so quiet. Is this how you two always eat together?”

You looked up, startled by the ghost bride’s sudden intrusion. “What do you want from us?” you snapped, your patience wearing thin. “We’re eating. We’re doing what you want.”

The ghost bride smiled that unnerving, disembodied smile again, her voice syrupy sweet. “How can you say that when you’re so distant? Where’s the love? Where’s the spark? I demand to see it.”

“Spark?” Seungmin stammered, glancing between you and the ghost bride, clearly baffled. “We’re barely even talking, and you want... that?”

“Love is in the little things,” she cooed, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “The way you feed each other, the way you smile at each other, the way you share a quiet moment. Let’s see if you remember that.”

Seungmin shot a confused look at you. “Uh... YN?” he said, his voice heavy with reluctance. “I guess... should we share a bite or something? To, you know, show the ‘love’ or whatever?”

You blinked, taken aback by his suggestion. “What? No. You don’t just... share food to rekindle a spark,” you said, a half-laugh escaping you as you shook your head at the absurdity of it all.

Seungmin’s eyes widened in realization, and a nervous laugh slipped from his lips. “No, no! I’m just trying to make the ghost lady happy.”

The humor fell flat, and the tension returned, thickening the air once more. You sighed, deciding it was better to just get it over with. “Fine. Let’s just do this.” With a mixture of reluctance and exasperation, you held out your fork, offering him a bite of your dish.

Seungmin hesitated, his face caught between amusement and discomfort. “Alright, here goes nothing.” He leaned in to take the bite, but as he did, he knocked the plate, splashing sauce onto his shirt.

You burst out laughing, unable to stop yourself. “Smooth move, Seungmin,” you teased, the laughter easing the tension, if only briefly. “Guess you’re really ‘sparking’ things up now.”

Seungmin, his face flushed with embarrassment, managed a sheepish grin. “Yeah, well, guess I’m not the expert in romance.”

Just as the awkwardness seemed to subside, the ghost bride’s voice echoed through the room again, cold and mocking. “How sweet. But this is not enough. The next part of your task begins now...”

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

The ghost bride clapped her translucent hands together, a gleeful smile stretching across her eerie face. “A dance! Let’s see if you can move as one, with grace and passion.”

Seungmin groaned. “A dance? Really? We’re in the middle of... whatever this is, and now you want us to waltz?”

You shot him a sharp look. “Oh, come on. It’s not like we have a choice here, Seungmin.”

“Why do I feel like this is some kind of sick couples’ therapy?” he muttered under his breath, earning a half-snort, half-smile from you.

The ghost bride’s voice cut through the air again, dripping with authority. “Enough stalling. The music begins now.”

Suddenly, a hauntingly beautiful melody filled the room, the kind of tune that sent chills down your spine. The ghost bride drifted to the side, her expectant gaze fixed on the two of you.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Seungmin said with an exaggerated sigh, extending his hand toward you. “Try not to step on my feet.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking his hand. “If anyone’s stepping on toes, it’s you.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly. “Bold of you to assume you’re that light on your feet.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but didn’t respond, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room. As his hand settled on your waist, a flicker of awkwardness sparked between you two, a reminder of the tension that still lingered, unresolved and thick in the air.

The dance started off slow, almost too slow. The melody swayed between romantic and ominous, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. Oh right, the ghost bride. Of course, you were being watched.

“Okay, not bad,” Seungmin said, his tone a mix of surprise and approval as you twirled into his arms without tripping. “Maybe you’ve had some practice.”

“Are you saying you didn’t expect me to be good at this?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m saying I’ve seen you trip over a flat surface,” he replied, fighting back a laugh.

You opened your mouth to argue, but he spun you before you could. For a moment, it felt like you might actually fall, but Seungmin caught you effortlessly, pulling you back into him with a smirk.

“See? I’ve got you,” he said, his voice softening, almost teasing.

You stared at him a beat too long before glancing away. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, focusing on the steps instead of the warmth of his hand on your back.

The ghost bride’s voice sliced through the music like a blade. “You call this dancing? Where’s the passion? Where’s the fire?”

Seungmin shot her an incredulous look. “We’re trying, okay? Maybe lower your expectations.”

“Passion doesn’t need to be tried,” she snapped. “It comes naturally.”

“Well, excuse us for not being the leads in some ghostly rom-com,” you retorted, earning a stifled laugh from Seungmin.

The ghost bride’s chilling smile returned. “Let me make it easier for you, then.” With a wave of her hand, the room seemed to shrink, forcing you and Seungmin even closer. The music grew louder, more insistent, as if daring you to falter.

You stumbled slightly, your face inches from Seungmin’s chest. “Great. Now she’s making us claustrophobic.”

“Just focus,” Seungmin said, steadying you with an arm around your waist. His voice had lost its usual sarcasm, and for a moment, he almost sounded reassuring.

But then his next words shattered the moment: “Unless you’d rather call it quits and let her haunt us forever.”

“Oh, you wish,” you shot back, pulling away just enough to regain your footing. “I’m not giving her the satisfaction.”

You moved in sync again, the tension easing ever so slightly with each step. The occasional bump of knees or misstep drew soft laughs, though neither of you dared to acknowledge the deeper emotions lingering beneath the surface.

Just as you started to think you might survive this without further embarrassment, Seungmin’s foot caught on yours, sending him off balance. He grabbed onto you for support, pulling you down in an awkward heap on the floor.

“Well, that was graceful,” you said, struggling to suppress a laugh as you sat up.

“Totally your fault,” Seungmin replied, wincing as he rubbed his elbow. “You distracted me.”

“Oh, sure. Blame me for your two left feet.”

Before he could respond, the ghost bride loomed over you both, her expression unreadable. “Pathetic,” she sighed. “But entertaining, at least.”

You exchanged a glance with Seungmin, the humor of the situation bubbling up despite everything. “Guess we’re better at comedy than choreography,” he muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For once, you didn’t argue. “Yeah. At least we’ve got that going for us.”

The ghost bride’s disapproving sigh echoed through the room as the music faded. “Enough. Perhaps you’ll do better in the next task.”

Your stomach sank. Next task? You glanced at Seungmin, who looked equally apprehensive. “What do you think she has in mind this time?” you asked.

He shrugged, helping you to your feet. “Knowing her? Something even worse.”

“Fantastic,” you said dryly, brushing yourself off. “Can’t wait.”

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

The ghost bride’s voice dripped with amusement as she announced the next task. “One fine blood-red rose from the terrace garden under the moonlight. Alone, of course.”

“Alone?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “Why? Isn’t this a team thing?”

She let out a chilling laugh. “Not this time. You must do this alone, my dear.”

Seungmin took a step forward, his jaw tight with defiance. “This is ridiculous. I’m not letting her....”

“Any interference will result in consequences,” the ghost bride warned, her voice sharp as a knife.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll do it. Just… stay here, Seungmin.”

His expression was etched with worry, but he nodded reluctantly. “Be careful. Yell if anything happens.”

“Great advice in a haunted house,” you muttered under your breath as you headed toward the staircase.

The air grew colder with each step, your breath visible in the dimly lit corridor. The shadows seemed alive, shifting and flickering as though they were watching you.

Halfway up the staircase, a loud thud echoed behind you. You whipped around, heart racing, but saw nothing, just the empty hall.

“Okay,” you whispered, swallowing hard. “It’s just the house messing with me. That’s all.”

When you turned back, a porcelain doll was suddenly on the step in front of you, its glassy eyes locked onto yours. You let out a startled yelp, stumbling back.

“How did you…?” you began, but before you could finish, the doll’s head slowly turned to the side with a faint, deliberate creak.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” you muttered, sidestepping the doll and hurrying up the stairs.

At the top, the faint sound of a child’s laughter echoed through the air, sending a chill down your spine. You glanced over your shoulder to find the staircase now filled with dolls, all standing eerily still, their unblinking eyes following your every move.

“Wonderful,” you muttered, forcing yourself to keep moving. “Just me and my creepy doll fan club.”

The terrace door loomed ahead, and as you reached for the handle, it creaked open on its own.

“Of course,” you muttered, stepping outside. The garden was bathed in silvery moonlight, its beauty strangely mesmerizing. But the eerie calm didn’t last.

As you approached the rose bush, the sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You froze, your heart pounding. “Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.

No response.

Taking a shaky breath, you turned back toward the rose bush, only to find a shadowy figure standing between you and the flowers. Its face was obscured, its form flickering like a dying lightbulb.

“Who ? what ? ” you stammered, stumbling back. The figure tilted its head, and before you could react, it lunged at you with a guttural scream.

You shrieked, ducking just in time as the figure dissolved into thin air.

“Okay, this is officially the worst idea ever,” you muttered, your hands trembling as you approached the rose bush again.

The blood-red rose glowed under the moonlight, its vibrant hue almost hypnotic. You reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing the petals. As soon as you plucked it, the ground beneath you crumbled away.

A scream tore from your throat as you grabbed onto a nearby vase, your legs dangling over the void below. The once-beautiful terrace was now a crumbling expanse of nothingness, the wind howling in your ears.

Back in the dining room, Seungmin shot to his feet when he heard your scream. “Y/N!” he shouted, sprinting toward the terrace despite the ghost bride’s warning.

Meanwhile, you clung to the vase, your arms trembling. A narrow rope bridge materialized in front of you, swaying dangerously in the wind.

“Really?!” you shouted at the void, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is the solution?!”

Seungmin burst onto the terrace, his face pale with fear. “Y/N!”

“Oh, hey,” you called weakly, your voice trembling. “Fancy seeing you here. Just hanging out. Literally.”

His eyes darted to the rope bridge, then to you. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Long story. Not the time!”

Ignoring the ghost bride’s warning, Seungmin stepped onto the rope bridge, his arms outstretched to keep his balance as the wind howled around him.

“Stop!” you yelled. “She said...”

“I don’t care what she said!” he snapped, his voice laced with desperation. “I’m not letting you do this alone!”

As he inched closer, you felt your grip slipping. “Seungmin,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t hold on.”

“You’re not falling,” he said firmly, his jaw clenched. “Not on my watch.”

When he finally reached you, he grabbed your arm, his grip steady despite the shaking bridge. With a grunt, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as the void disappeared and the terrace returned to its original state.

You clung to him, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

He held you tighter, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I’m not losing you. Not again.”

From the shadows, the ghost bride observed with a satisfied smile. “Well done. The rose is yours… but your journey is far from over.”

The air grew heavier as you and Seungmin descended the staircase from the terrace. Without warning, her chilling voice echoed around you once more. “Oh, how sweet you two look together. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?”

Before you could react, the world around you shifted. The air turned icy, and a dense fog engulfed the staircase. You turned to Seungmin, but he was no longer beside you.

“Seungmin?!” you called, panic gripping your chest.

“Y/N!” his voice echoed faintly, distant and unreachable....

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

The fog swallowed your surroundings completely. When it cleared, you found yourself in a dimly lit room. Shadows flickered along the walls, and at the center stood an ornate mirror, glowing faintly. On a pedestal before it lay the blood-red rose you had plucked earlier.

The ghost bride’s voice slithered into your ears, soft and sinister. “To move forward, you must confront the truth. Pick the rose, and let it reveal what you’ve buried deep inside.”

Your hands trembled as you reached for the rose. The sharp thorns pricked your finger, a single drop of blood welling up. The mirror rippled like water, and an image began to form.

At first, it was blurry, but as the scene sharpened, you realized what you were looking at, a younger version of yourself, no older than eight, sitting cross-legged on a playground bench. Beside you sat Seungmin, his cheeks flushed from the autumn chill, his dark hair sticking out in all directions. In one hand, he held a popsicle; in the other, a bright yellow bandage, which he clumsily pressed against your scraped knee.

“Stop squirming,” he mumbled, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“It hurts!” your younger self whined, tears welling up as you winced.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always trying to show off, this wouldn’t have happened,” he retorted, exasperated but not unkind. “Just… stay still, okay?”

Despite his words, his touch was gentle. His small hands carefully smoothed the bandage into place. When he finished, he leaned back with a satisfied smile.

“There. Good as new,” he declared, holding up his popsicle triumphantly.

Your younger self sniffled, managing a weak smile. The sting of the scrape faded in the face of his earnestness. “Thanks, Minnie.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, though his pink cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

It was a small, fleeting moment, but it had set the foundation for your entire friendship. Seungmin had always been there for you, through scraped knees, school struggles, and the awkwardness of growing up, you’d been each other’s constants.

The scene shifted, and the golden playground light was replaced by the hum of fluorescent bulbs. Now high school-aged, you both sat on the rooftop of your school, textbooks spread out between you.

“Do you think they’re right?” Seungmin asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Who?” you asked, looking up from your notes.

“My parents,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “They’re always saying I’m not good enough. That I’ll never amount to anything.”

His words struck something deep within you, and without thinking, you reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. “That’s not true, Seungmin,” you said firmly. “You’re one of the smartest, most talented people I know. And you’re kind. Who cares what they think?”

He turned to you then, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, his gaze heavy and unwavering. Then he gave you a small, shy smile and nodded.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The rooftop scene dissolved, replaced by the hustle of a university library. The two of you were surrounded by a mountain of books and empty coffee cups, deep into finals week.

“Alright,” Seungmin said, snapping his fingers to get your attention. “What’s the answer to question five on the practice exam?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know! I’m going to fail, drop out, and probably end up living in a cardboard box somewhere.”

“Relax,” he said with a laugh. “You always do this, Y/N. You freak out, and then you ace the exam like it’s nothing.”

“Says the guy who crammed the entire syllabus last night,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“And yet, here I am,” he replied with a grin that lit up his entire face. “Maybe I’m just a genius.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, fighting a smile.

“Y/N, you’ve got this,” he said, his voice dropping to something softer, more earnest. “You’re one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. And, just so you know, you’re kind of a genius too.”

His words made your cheeks flush, and you turned your attention back to your notes, mumbling, “Whatever, Minnie.”

He laughed, warm and carefree, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

The scene shifted, and suddenly, you were standing at the entrance of the house, the night of the party. Your past self lingered at the doorway, smoothing down your outfit nervously as if it could steady the whirlwind inside you. Felix was the first to greet you, his ever-bright grin lighting up his face as he extended a drink toward you.

“Finally! The life of the party is here,” he said, his cheerful voice cutting through the hum of conversation and the pulsing music.

You took the drink with a small smile, your fingers trembling slightly as you gripped the glass. The party was alive around you, laughter, vibrant chatter, and the warmth of so many people gathered in one space. But your focus wasn’t on them. It never was.

You stood near the bar, fidgeting with your drink as your eyes roamed the room. Your heart pounded with a mix of nerves and anticipation, every step forward feeling like a delicate balance between courage and hesitation. It felt as though everything in the past few months had been leading to this moment. Every unspoken feeling, every stolen glance, and every night you stayed up thinking about him, all of it had brought you here.

And then you saw him. Seungmin.

He stood across the room, near the far corner, casually leaning against the wall as he laughed with a group of mutual friends. He looked just as he always did, relaxed, effortlessly composed, and with that soft smile that always sent your heart into a frenzy.

But tonight, there was something different. The way his eyes darted around the room, almost searching, sent a flicker of hope sparking in your chest.

“Maybe he’s looking for me?” you thought, the idea igniting a warmth within you.

You hesitated, the weight of what you had decided to do pressing heavily on your chest. Your palms were clammy, and your stomach churned with nervous energy. You had promised yourself tonight would be the night. You would tell him how you felt, how he wasn’t just your best friend but your everything.

Taking a deep breath, you clenched your hands at your sides and took a tentative step toward him.

But before you could reach him, a familiar voice slurred behind you, freezing you in your tracks.

“Y/N…”

Your stomach sank as you turned and found yourself face-to-face with Hyunjin. His disheveled appearance and glassy eyes told you everything you needed to know, he was drunk. The redness in his cheeks wasn’t from the party but from something far more troubling.

“Hyunjin,” you said cautiously, stepping back as he stumbled closer to you. “You’re drunk. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Drunk? Maybe,” he said with a bitter laugh, his words slurring as he gestured loosely with his hand. “But I had to see you. I needed to see you.”

Your heart tightened as he took another unsteady step closer, his expression shifting from bitterness to pleading. “Y/N, I made a mistake. I was stupid. I…I want you back.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, but not in the way he probably intended. You took another step back, your voice steady but firm. “Hyunjin, we’ve been over this. It’s over. You need to let this go.”

But he wasn’t listening. His desperation took hold, and before you could stop him, his hands grabbed your arms, pulling you into a tight, forceful hug.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling and raw. “Just one more chance. I can be better. I swear.”

Your breath caught, anger bubbling beneath the surface as you struggled against his grip.

“Hyunjin, stop it!” you snapped, your voice rising. “Let me go!”

The mirror zoomed out, revealing something you hadn’t noticed that night, a shadow in the corner. Your heart sank as the image sharpened to show Seungmin.

He had been watching the entire exchange.

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening painfully as the mirror captured his expression in that fleeting, raw moment. Gone was his usual calm demeanor, the quiet confidence that made him seem unshakable. Instead, his face was a storm of emotions: hurt, betrayal, and anger. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter, his fists trembling at his sides. His eyes, usually soft and warm when they landed on you, were now ablaze with a mixture of pain and fury.

From across the room, Seungmin’s gaze locked on the sight of Hyunjin holding you. Your face was obscured, pressed against Hyunjin’s shoulder, and in Seungmin’s mind, the worst conclusions took root and twisted deeper with every passing second.

Tears gathered in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

The mirror panned back to Seungmin, and you could see how quickly the anger began to smother the sadness in his expression. His thoughts spilled into the room like whispers from a wound too deep to heal.

“Of course you’d choose him… Why wouldn’t you? I’ll never be enough for you, Y/N. Not for you, not for anyone.”

You stumbled back a step, your voice breaking as you whispered, “No. Seungmin, I wasn’t...I didn’t…”

Suddenly Seungmin’s thoughts faded as the mirror darkened, leaving only his broken expression burned into your mind. You reached out instinctively, as though you could change the past by touching the glass, but your fingers met only a cold, unyielding surface.

The reflection twisted, the room behind you flickering like a dying light, and when it settled again, you were staring at Seungmin, only this time, his lips were pressed against Beth’s.

Your heart stopped, the image searing into your chest like a brand.

But the scene didn’t stop….

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Tags - @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @yangbbokari @theo4eve @jinnie-ret  @livelovelaughmiko @silverstarburst @galaxycatdrawz @skzoologist @shua-f4lmings @iknowyouknowminho @krisstheidiot @hyunjinhoexxx @gho-ster @ezlynkisses @elmoslungcancer @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @seungseung-minmin @cuddlylonelyperson @jeonginsleftcheek @oreoqueen @freekyfangirl

Comment your @ If you wish to be added or removed from this list ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

࣪ ִֶָ☾.ENDNOTE - Everything Here is a work of fiction and my own imagination. This does not represent the real life characteristics of Stray Kids. Make sure to like, reblog comment, and follow me for new updates!

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Propaganda:

For Shadowpeach: "ok so, we all know from that one tumblr post that yaoi is two blokes doing fuckall and yuri is when there’s themes and shit? well these two (shadowpeach) have So Much Themes. they were super close friends for years and years (both immortal) before their epic breakup scene (wukong was trapped under a mountain and macaque refused to free him) (he wasn’t entirely in the wrong but that’s another story) (also wukong killed macaque there was that, that did happen) (its complicated)

from the Moment we see these two, all we know about them is that they’re the most divorced ever. as time goes on, we see the complexities in their relationship, and they introduce a lot of the overarching themes and motifs of the show (hero and warrior pairs, peaches being a symbol of their relationship, etc). also they’re both girls to me

tmnt theme song voice toxic codependent yuri!"

"theyre So So gay divorced and have an incredibly complicated and toxic relationship. also according to that one tumblr post yaoi is when theres two blokes doing fuckall and yuri is when theres themes and shit, and these two have So So So many themes and shit. theyve got motifs out the wazoo. peaches are a motif of their relationship and in the very end of the s4 finale wukong hands macaque a half-melted peach flavored (and shaped) popsicle. this is yuri to me"

"They used to be semi-immortal bff's, but then they fell apart and literally one of them died(bc of the other), then he revived, then got semi-consumed by revenge™ and tried to kill each other for a while, but they are cool now and they gave the sweetest little smiles when they finally talked- *fangirls* ok ok, look at it this way: it's a royalty au but it's canon."

"Well, they are toxic doomed yuri vibes, in my.most opinion. But also their designs are pretty gender I think.. mostly wukongs imo. And ik eyelashes aren't inherently feminine but theyre both some of the few(if not only) male characters in the show with visible eyelashes. Also if it counts, out of the relationships that I've seen compared to theirs, most are canonical sapphic relationships from other cartoons (catradora and bubbline notably)"

For Arthur and Linus: "THEY ARE SOO YURI!! OLD MAN YURI!!! LIKE!!! JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! THEYRE SO ADORABLE"

"A warm, loving caretaker of magical children who are orphans falls in love with the fat neurotic caseworker and changes his life for the better."

For Thoschei: "i. why great

They are each other's narrative foils. They are archenemies. They were childhood friends. They might not have been married, but they are divorced. They call themselves best enemies. They are the "i can fix them"/"i can make them worse" duo. They've proposed to each other (to rule/travel across the universe together), but each declined the offer from the other. They've kissed. They've killed each other. They've killed for each other (the first to do so was the Doctor who is the protagonist and the hero, but this fact was revealed in an audio drama, not in the TV show). The universe's too small for both of them. "The cosmos without the Doctor scarcely bears thinking about" is a real quote from one of the episodes from the 1980s. They are war criminals. The Master commits atrocities to attract the Doctor's attention and admits it. They are not able to get rid of each other for good, nor they really want to. One of the showrunners literally spent the BBC's money to make his E2L I Can't Decide fanvid for them and make it a part of an episode.

ii. why guy:

They'd been in male bodies for more than 40 years…

iii. why yuri

…until one of them regenerated into a woman. After some time, the other did so too. Sadly, they haven't interacted in their female bodies on screen, but the fandom makes do with fan content.

in conclusion: this is The guy yuri if i've ever seen one"

[extralively]

Movie Night

Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character NSFW (it's just smut) 4,936 words Also posted on AO3 Summary: Satoru has Yura over for a little movie night, but what he has in mind is something completely different. So Yura decides to teach him to have a little patience as she... 'enjoys the movie'.

While I'm editing the next chapter of the main fic (coming soon!), lemme just post this oneshot here on tumblr. If you've been keeping up with the series on AO3, you might have already read this one!

Anyway, this is just pure filth and can be read as standalone. Enjoy!

Whenever Satoru asked Yura to watch a movie with him nowadays, it was an inevitability that it would eventually lead to sex. When it would happen was always up in the air—as in, if they were going to actually get through the entire movie or not—but in general, whenever they decided to hang out at each other’s apartments alone, sex was a foregone conclusion.

Of course, Yura sometimes still wanted to watch the damn movie.

...But she also had to admit that sometimes, she too had something else in mind.

“So, what’s the movie this time?” Yura asked, flopping down onto Satoru’s comfy leather couch.

Satoru soon joined her after he grabbed the TV’s remote, sitting next to her. “It’s a romcom,” he said, stretching out his long legs to rest his feet on the coffee table. “It came out recently.”

Yura shifted on her side, resting her head on the back cushion as she let her legs curl on top of his, her body halfway on his lap. “...It’s not porn again this time, is it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Satoru let out a huff. “That wasn’t porn! That was... an erotic movie. It’s a Japanese classic!”

“I mean...” Yura tilted her head. “The movie is like ninety percent very explicit sex—until the woman cuts the guy’s dick off at the end.”

“Well...” Satoru sighed. “That was only after the guy was already dead...”

Yura snorted.

Satoru eventually started the movie up, and their attention shifted to his ridiculously large TV screen. This time, it really seemed to be a mostly light-hearted movie, and Yura quickly relaxed into the couch cushions, letting her head rest against his shoulder as she curled further into his side.

As the main characters of the story started being introduced, Yura’s hand came up to hold onto the crook of Satoru’s elbow, the one trapped between her body and his—which meant that his other arm was free to caress her leg as he pleased. And Yura sighed in approval, enjoying his touch on her bare skin; she had already changed into what could pass off as comfortable pajamas: an old pair of shorts and an oversized sweater—she’d figured she would not be leaving Satoru’s apartment again until tomorrow so she might as well make herself comfortable, right? And Satoru had also had the same idea, having already changed out of his street clothes and into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt—both now perfectly cozy until all these clothes were inevitably chucked off somewhere later in the night.

Familiar story beats were happening on screen—nothing too innovative, bordering on cliché. Yura tried to focus on the movie, she really did, but it wasn’t particularly gripping... and Satoru’s hand on her leg was more than a little distracting. And that was before his other hand moved despite its limited mobility between the two of them, coming up to gently caress her thigh; that, she was more than certain, was completely deliberate. The bastard definitely knew what he was doing here.

“Satoru, it’s been like ten minutes since the start of the movie,” she told him, amused.

“Hmm?” Satoru replied, tilting his head towards her ever so slightly. “I’m not doing anything, I’m just... watching the movie.”

The smile on his face clearly contradicted his words. Sly bastard.

Satoru turned his head to press his lips to the top of her head. “Not doing anything at all...” He pressed another kiss there. “Wouldn’t want to miss this amazing movie.” And another kiss. “I think it’s good enough to win an Oscar.”

Yura was trying to bite back a grin, as she didn’t want to give in too easily. By now, she was fairly sure Satoru had picked any random movie just so he could have the excuse of a movie night, when in reality, what he wanted was sex. She had no idea why he went the roundabout way sometimes, since he wasn’t exactly shy about just asking for it directly—so the least he could do was play along a little bit more, couldn’t he?

“The movie does seem pretty promising,” Yura said, still trying (and failing) to keep a smile off her face. “It would be a shame if we missed it.”

Her hand slid up from his arm to his chest, and she started drawing random imaginary figures on his shirt.

“Such a shame,” Satoru agreed, his hand wrapping around her thigh to hitch her leg higher on his lap.

Yura let her hand trail downward on his torso, reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and sliding her fingers over it. She could feel Satoru’s stomach contracting briefly at the pressure, and she couldn’t help herself; she let her hand slip under his t-shirt to brush against the bare skin there, her fingers finding the contours of his muscles and gently tracing along.

...Well, that might have been a bit too much, because Satoru suddenly lifted his free hand to hold her head, tilting it up as his lips immediately found hers and—goodbye movie.

Yura smiled against Satoru’s mouth as he shifted on the couch, maneuvering both of their bodies so she would fully turn towards him as he moved between her legs. Her hand had to leave his stomach with the movement, and she briefly lamented the lack of contact before he was quickly on her again.

As her hands came up to cradle his face close to her, his lips were a bit insistent as they moved against hers, no soft and slow movements this time—instead, Satoru locked their lips together in deep kisses that had her head spinning. He kept pushing her backwards too, until she eventually ended up lying back on the couch, Satoru always moving with her as he settled right between her legs. He was quick to pull off his sunglasses and toss them away, and Yura had to smile again at his clear impatience before his lips were immediately back on hers. Why had he even suggested a movie night when what he wanted for tonight was clearly this?

Oh well. Yura let her hands slip underneath Satoru’s shirt again to caress his back, while his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. One of his hands made its way down her waist, tilting her hips up and making sure they were perfectly slotted against his—so that once he started grinding his hips down onto hers, she would definitely feel it.

“...Someone’s a little impatient,” Yura breathed out as they disconnected their mouths. And Satoru didn’t even give himself a chance to breathe, as he immediately pressed his lips to her cheek and started trailing down kisses all the way to her neck.

“I was out all week,” he said, in between kisses to her skin.

Yura snorted. “We had sex yesterday.”

“...Still plenty of time we need to make up for.”

She was pretty sure Satoru was grinning against her neck, and Yura huffed out a laugh that ended up turning into a moan when Satoru started sucking on that one spot and ground his hips onto hers at the same time.

Satoru certainly seemed to be up and ready himself, didn’t he?

“You sure that you didn’t get turned on thinking about that porn movie from last time?” Yura huffed out as Satoru’s hips started insistently grinding against hers, effectively starting to dry hump her. Yura let her thighs spread a bit wider, tilting her hips so the pressure would be on just the right spot.

“...That was an erotic movie,” Satoru insisted, lifting his head back up. “And no... Maybe.” He shot her a crooked grin.

Satoru’s mouth found hers again. When his hands slipped down to start tugging at her shorts, Yura simply lifted her hips to assist their removal, and Satoru pulled away from her so he could tug her shorts and panties away in one go. She looked up at him, amused; so that was how eager he was? Zero patience for anything else, not even bothering to remove her oversized sweater as he completely bared her bottom to him.

And he, of course, wasn’t too far behind; after tossing her shorts and underwear somewhere, he immediately started pushing down his own pants, also neglecting to remove his own t-shirt. Yura could help, she thought, still amused as she looked up at Satoru rushing to remove his sweatpants. But Satoru was just so darn eager, that maybe... he could learn to have a little patience.

Yura sat up as Satoru was about to return to her, sans pants. And as she placed a hand on his chest to hold him back, making him look at her in confusion, she tried biting back a smile. “...I still want to watch the movie, though,” she said, and Satoru continued to stare, completely befuddled—he’d clearly been expecting something else.

He was so confused that when she started urging him backwards, he just let her guide him without a word. His blue eyes were blinking up at her as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’, but Yura only smiled in return, pushing him back until he was finally sitting again on the couch. She gave him no chance to say anything then, quickly climbing onto his lap—except it was to sit on it with her back to his chest. Not exactly what he had in mind, and as she grabbed his hands to wrap his arms around her body in an innocuous embrace, she could feel the sheer confusion radiating from all over him.

“...Yura,” Satoru eventually spoke up behind her as she settled onto his lap, facing the TV. Never mind that both of their bottom halves were completely bare, and she had purposefully sat with his erection under her... “What—”

“Shh,” she interrupted him. “It’s movie night, and I wanna watch a movie.”

She was desperately trying to bite back a grin.

“Yuraaaa,” he whined behind her, his arms tightening around her body as he dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “There are more fun things to do than a movie.”

Satoru’s hands tried moving up her chest, but she grabbed them again and held them in place. “You said we were going to watch a movie—so we’re watching a movie,” she said again. But her hips shifted around, rubbing against him, and Satoru drew in a sharp exhale.

Yura kept her eyes on the TV, even though she wasn’t actually paying attention. And neither was Satoru, although she wasn’t surprised in the least—she could still see a mess of white hair against the side of her head, his face still pressed against her shoulder as his arms held her tightly to him. His hips tried grinding up into her, and she could feel him tantalizingly close to her unclothed core—but patience. She shifted on his lap, sitting up straighter, and it made him whine again.

She unwrapped his arms from around her, removing them from her body. “Behave. It’s movie night, remember?” she said, and Satoru whined again.

...But the thing was, she had shifted on his lap, with a purpose. She could now open her thighs just a bit more, and, there you go—his member was slotted right against the crack of her buttocks. And Satoru sure had noticed that, suddenly going still as he seemed to be waiting for what she was going to do next.

And what she did next was grind her hips down, slowly. Satoru let out a shaky breath, and she did it again, and again, and to be honest, the more she shifted back, the more she could feel him rubbing against her outer folds. She was teasing him, yes, but it also left her wanting more, despite her little plan to act as blasé about it as possible—so Yura couldn’t help herself. She shifted back some more, sitting further back on his lap so she could feel his entire length resting right outside her core.

Yura bit her lip, looking down at her thighs to see the head of him poking out from between them. What a sight, she thought, but when she ground her hips down again, it didn’t really provide enough pressure to satisfy her properly, his member still remaining outside of her folds.

So she took matter into her own hands, literally—she reached down with one hand and used it to press him up against her, slotting him between her folds and finally rubbing herself against him. Her nether lips were hugging his length tightly, increasingly coating him in her wetness with every movement she made. Satoru’s hands were gripping her hips, trying to urge her further, and despite all that, Yura was still trying to pretend that she was fully engrossed in the movie in front of them.

“Satoru, you’re missing the best part,” Yura spoke up, and Satoru only let out a questioning hum behind her. “Of the movie,” she clarified. She shifted her hips again, and she let her thumb caress the head of his length for a moment.

“This is not... the best part,” Satoru responded. “We haven’t reached the climax yet.”

Yura’s grin widened. “No, but we can’t just skip there,” she said, paired with another roll of her hips, the feeling of his member dragging against her folds way too good for her to stop. “Gotta go through the rest of the movie first.”

Yura let her thighs fall open some more, spreading her legs further on his lap. Maybe it was time to move on to the ‘next scene’, she thought, amused, and she finally shifted on his lap, folding her legs back as she essentially knelt down outside of his thighs. She still kept him pressed against her folds throughout, unwilling to break the connection, but once she was in the right position with her knees on either side of him, she finally shifted enough to let the head notch against her entrance, and she slowly sank down on him.

Satoru let out a long, shuddering breath as she took him in, and Yura herself did the same. Her hands came to rest on his thighs for support, the feeling of her walls being stretched open as she pushed him into her completely frying her brain for a moment, but not enough for her to stop. Quite the opposite; she continued sinking down until he was all the way inside, her hips meeting his and she let her weight drop onto his lap, taking a moment to just... enjoy the feeling.

“...Okay,” she eventually breathed out, opening her eyes back up. “Let’s watch the movie.”

Satoru let out a confused ‘hm?’ as Yura bit back a grin again, keeping her hips still. Her eyes were glued to the screen, and once Satoru realized she was not going to move, he whined again. “Yuraa—”

His hands started creeping up from her hips, and she had to knock them away from her. “It’s movie night,” she said, and even if she couldn’t see his face, she could tell he was pouting. His hands tried returning to her body, but she once again slapped them away. “Behave. Let me watch the damn thing.”

She wasn’t really watching the damn thing. Her eyes were glued to the screen, yes, but Yura had no idea what was going on anymore. Something something the main character needed to find a date, but that seemed almost irrelevant—not when she could feel Satoru hot and heavy inside of her, feeling him stretch her open on the inside. Satoru dropped his hands to the couch cushions once he realized she wasn’t going to let him touch, and he eventually let his body fall back against the couch as he seemingly decided to just roll with it.

“Is the movie really that good?” he asked, almost like making conversation. But to be honest, Yura had gotten a little distracted—when Satoru had moved, she’d felt him shift inside of her, and she bit her lip at the feeling.

“...Sure,” she replied. The fact that she was sitting directly on him made the feeling of him even better, seemingly increasing all the pressure there inside of her. Of course, sitting still for too long made her get too used to it, so Yura shifted her hips just a bit, just so she could feel him moving inside of her and she bit her lip some more.

“I was the one who picked it,” Satoru commented. Yura suddenly felt him start caressing the curve of her ass ever so slightly, brushing the skin there up and down until it reached where she was pressed against him. “I do have good taste.”

Yura hummed out a vague response, still trying to pay attention to the screen. But it was too distracting, feeling him slotted snugly inside of her; she thought she could feel something throbbing down there, but at this point, she couldn’t be sure whether that was him or her anymore.

Maybe both.

The main character on the TV was asking her best friend for advice, who seemed to be trying to talk some sense into her. Or at least that’s what Yura guessed, because her mind was elsewhere entirely—the feeling of him was almost too much, and even after all this time of them sleeping together, she was often taken aback by how deep Satoru could go.

One of her hands left his thigh, coming up to rest on her lower stomach instead. Her fingers splayed open on her own skin, slipping under her sweater as she absentmindedly caressed herself there. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or not, but there were times that when she pressed down on her stomach like that, she thought she could almost feel him inside that way. Well, she could definitely feel him inside in another way, and she let her hips shift just the slightest bit again just so she could feel him sliding against her walls once more.

...This was actually really nice, she thought. What a fun movie night.

The main character in the movie seemed to have finally gotten somewhere with the male lead, and they were moving in for their first kiss. But before their lips could make contact, someone interrupted them, and then Yura suddenly jumped when Satoru decided to brush a finger over the sole of her foot—her walls immediately contracting around him at the tickling sensation.

“...Honestly,” Yura breathed out, though she was pretty sure Satoru had also let out a small gasp at the feeling. “You just won’t let me watch the movie in peace, will you?” she said, even as her lips were tugging upwards.

“What are you talking about,” Satoru said, and she could feel the sly tone in his voice even without seeing the accompanying grin. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Honestly,” Yura repeated, except that this time, she rolled her hips along with it. “Just let me watch the movie.”

Satoru, however, had nothing to complain about this time as Yura started moving her hips against his, pushing him in and out of her. In fact, she was sure she felt him fall back down against the cushions with a long sigh, his hands coming up to hold on to her calves as her hips rolled on top of him.

Yura set out at a quick pace, her hips moving with purpose. Her eyes also never left the screen, even if it was all a blur at this point—the feeling of him dragging along her walls was too good for her to pay attention to anything else. She adjusted the angle and quickened her pace, feeling Satoru’s fingers tighten against her skin as she heard his breathing pick up behind her, and it only encouraged her further.

Yura was completely focused on her own movements, her hands holding on to his thighs for support as her hips never stopped rolling on top of him. She did eventually change the angle again, her hips starting to move back and forth now, and that’s when she felt Satoru’s hand leave her calf to come up to her hip. She felt his upper body lift off the couch behind her, shifting closer to let his hand trail to her front—and she slapped it away.

“I’m busy,” she chided, still trying to bite back her own sly grin. “This movie is really good.”

“...Yeah?” Satoru breathed out, seeming confused again for a second.

“Hm-hm,” Yura nodded, returning her hands to his thighs, using them as leverage... but also caressing his thighs a bit. “You’re the one... otherwise distracted.”

Satoru let out a shaky breath, his torso dropping back to the couch. “I’m very distracted. Getting... more distracted by the second.”

She did allow herself to grin this time. “Then just be done with it... and get back to the movie.” Her pace increased.

Satoru’s hands gripped her calves again, breathing out her name. It wouldn’t be long now, she figured, letting her inner muscles contract around him; his fingers tightened on her skin at the feeling and she did it again.

Yura couldn’t help but glance behind her now, catching Satoru with his head thrown back against the cushions and his chest heaving up and down, almost in synch with her own movements. He seemed to be really into it, she thought, smiling, as she turned her head back to the front. She let her inner muscles squeeze him again, increasing her pace, and it didn’t take long for him to finally snap—his hips pushed up into hers, and she finally felt him start releasing himself deep inside of her with a long, drawn-out groan.

As Yura felt the warmth inside of her increasing, she let her hips slow down even as she squeezed him with her inner muscles once more, urging on his release. She closed her eyes this time, enjoying the feeling, letting her hips come to a halt by sinking back down on him completely and staying there.

As Satoru panted behind her, Yura let herself catch her own breath even if her body was still tense from the lack of release. This felt good, though, and she was enjoying it as part of the experience—the way she could still feel him inside, the way he made her feel full. And suddenly, one of her hands ended up returning to her lower stomach, pressing down gently, the thought of heirs and babies suddenly passing through her mind and Yura tried not to think about how those intrusive thoughts weren’t quite as unwelcome as they used to be. Feeling Satoru’s release inside of her was making her stomach do strange, but not unpleasant, flip flops—was this some sort of weird kink she had suddenly developed? She would definitely have to blame Satoru for this one. There would be no Gojo babies any time soon with her IUD in place, but the thought of them...

Maybe one day, echoed around in her mind, and Yura didn’t chase it away. Instead, she let her palm warm up her stomach, just as she could still feel Satoru warming up her insides.

...and he was definitely still warm and hard inside of her. So much stamina, she mentally laughed; he was showing no signs of softening anytime soon.

Yura’s lips tugged up.

Round two, then?

“...You still watching that movie?” Satoru eventually spoke up, still a little breathless.

“Yep,” she answered. But she let the hand on her stomach trail down, slipping between her legs until she reached the spot where their bodies were joined. Yura let her fingers brush against the base of his length, even if there wasn’t much space for it as she had sunk down on him completely. She teased both him and her there with gentle touches, and she couldn’t tell whether the stickiness she was feeling was from her or him or both.

One thing that did occur to her, though, was the fact that, hold on, there was a bit of him left that she could still take in, right? Her fingers rubbed against it and then against her folds wrapped around him, feeling his fingers tightening on her calves again. So Yura shifted her hips back, adjusting the angle and pushing down, and yeah—just a little bit deeper.

She stayed like that for a while longer, enjoying how it felt. It was almost like she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began—they were completely joined as one like this. She would have never imagined this feeling could be so intoxicating, a sudden wish for them to stay there forever passing through her—if only her body hadn’t started craving more.

The characters on the screen seemed to be finally hooking up, a modestly filmed sex scene starting up that couldn’t compare to what was going on outside of the TV. Satoru’s hands found her buttocks again, but instead of caressing them, he began squeezing them in his hold, playing with the flesh there. Yura briefly wondered if he was enjoying the sight back there, but her brain was suddenly emptied when she started shifting her hips slightly, enjoying the way Satoru was prodding at the deepest parts of her. Just lightly shifting her hips on top of him, pressing down to feel the pressure of him inside, but her movements eventually started to increase bit by bit. She began raising her hips and sinking back down, feeling him drag in and out of her and then in again—and this time, she was focusing on herself.

Yura’s hips kept moving up and down, making sure to adjust the angle so she could take him in as deep as she could with every thrust. Her movements couldn’t be too fast if she wanted to keep sinking in all the way, so she made up for it in intensity. She was almost bouncing on his lap, her hands gripping his thighs again as she adjusted her hips to push him in harder, stimulating something deep inside of her every time. And all the while, Satoru did nothing but let her do as she pleased, his hands cupping her ass almost like he was holding it up for her.

The movie in front of them was long forgotten as Yura let her head fall down, too immersed in the way her walls were being forced open every time she pushed him in. She could definitely feel something leaking out from where they were joined, her mind briefly registering it as his previous release—while the other part of her mind was saying more.

“Yura,” he breathed out her name, his hands sliding down from her behind until they were gripping her calves again. Yeah, she wanted more—more of him, more of this, just... more. So one of her hands eventually left his thigh, pressing down on her stomach again (was she really feeling him there or...?), and slowly, she slipped it down between her legs. As she started rubbing herself, her desperation only increased, her movements becoming erratic as she gripped his thigh harder. Her legs tensed and relaxed and tensed again, and she could feel Satoru’s legs doing the same under her. Come on, now, she thought to herself. A little more—

And it finally hit her, her hips roughly sinking down completely as her walls clamped around him, squeezing him, as her orgasm crashed over her. Satoru seemed to join her right after, his hips thrusting himself even deeper as she felt his warmth filling her up again.

Yura stayed still, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. Her walls were spasming around him and she suddenly felt full again—not even realizing her hand had moved up from between her legs to rest on her stomach once more.

...Ah, shit. Definitely a new kink.

She could feel Satoru’s heavy breathing behind her as they both struggled to catch their breaths. His tight grip on her calves eventually loosened, and he was the one to finally break the silence.

“That’s... one hell of a movie,” Satoru spoke up, still breathless.

Yura laughed.

Once her eyes were unscrewed shut, her gaze eventually landed on the TV again. The movie was still playing.

With a long exhale, Yura let her torso fall back against him, feeling his chest heaving against her back in synch with hers. He sadly ended up slipping out of her with the movement, but his arms eventually came to circle her body, holding her close.

She sighed. Her hands came up to rest on top of his, her eyes landing on the TV screen again. The movie seemed to be close to its end, the main characters trying to resolve a misunderstanding between the two, but Yura was too busy feeling Satoru’s release slipping out of her to pay attention to the screen.

(...His couch was leather, it should be fine...)

“You know,” Satoru started, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “We could put on another movie after this...”

Yura laughed again, awkwardly unfurling her legs from under her and stretching them out. “We could,” she agreed.

She felt Satoru grinning against her cheek. “We could even go watch a movie in the bedroom, and then in the bathroom—”

“You don’t have a TV in the bathroom,” she reminded him.

Satoru huffed out a laugh. “We can get creative.”

Yura laughed with him; that they could...

[absolutebl]

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

Ones we have dates for:

The Boy Next World

1/5 Thai iQIYI trailer

Is this the backstory of Cirrus & Phugun from TharnType 2 or just the same names? Regardless this is BossNoeul in a multiverse "slip through time" kinda thing but it's Mame + high concept so we in for a bumpy ride.

When it Rains it Pours

1/9 Japan MBS

Convoluted story about a man in a relationship who is sexually unfulfilled and his friend who is in love with him, who accidentally become secret confidants.

Impression of Youth

1/15 Taiwan

Exclusive Love

2/14 Taiwan Line

Shy aspiring singer inherits funeral business and a sexy mortician to go with.

Top Form

3/25 Thai WeTV

Adaptation of a Japanese manga. Boom (Chains of Heart) opposite Smart (Don't Say No). Actor recognized as the "The Sexiest Man of the Year" has his first-place position usurped by young newcomer. But while he sees them as rivals, turns out the new kid has other ideas.

My Sweetheart Jom

4/25 Thai YouTube

Saint is back in a BL? Who knew that would ever happen? When he gets tangled up with a mafia boss's son's girlfriend and ends up in a scuffle, young Yothin needs to find a safe place. Instead of sending him overseas, his father decides to send him to the countryside! There, he stays in Bang Pho under the care of subdistrict headman, a close friend of his father. He's also under the watchful eye of the village headman who happens to be the subdistrict headman's grandson and is overseeing his probation. As Yothin spends more time with Jomkhwan, his perception of the village headman begins gradually to change.

ANNOUNCED FOR 2025

No date as yet, alphabetical order.

8Hours

Thai

Season 2 of 4 Minutes.

A Dog and A Plane

Thai trailer

A prissy gay flight attendant in a push-pull relationship with an EMT dude-bro. Characters are a bit throwback to PeteKao (no bad thing) not to mention the looming shadow of What the Duck? (bad thing). But the side couple is the always appealing MarcPoon. Okay GMMTV, surprise me, I'm game. And you know TayNew are my OG GMMTV pair du jour.

Allure of the Siren

Thai trailer

Bitter rivals, Dao and Chaisai, are reluctantly thrust into an unprecedented partnership as they embark on a relentless quest to locate missing strippers.

Be My Soulmate

Thai

Star Hunter is putting MosBank back in uni. Engineering student shacks up with a judo jock, sexual tension is high but nothing changes until one of them becomes single.

Boys in Love

Thai trailer

Our only true high school BL from GMMTV and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and that is perfectly fine with me! I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they're using this one to test some new pairs for future seasons. Like a Project 101 Thai BL.

(Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.)

Burnout Syndrome

Thai trailer

GMMTV doing edgy is never a good thing IMHO, and in this one they're handling sex work. *shakes head* However, Not Me is the noted exception and this is that same pair with the same director. So I'm curious if not wild about the content. That said, I'm delighted to see Gun with someone else (Dew is a stunning choice, thank you Casting) even if only for a love triangle moment. It's been a WHILE.

Cat for Cash

Thai trailer

Finally something fluffy with a pair I like from GMMTV 2025. Looks cute. I like cute. Yay for me! Adorable gay boys and cats. This one is basically made to be a tumblr comfort meme meets thirst trap. I see what you're doing GMMTV and I applaud you. Carry on.

Doctor's Mine

Thai YouTube trailer

Another try at adapting Gown & Gear. Couldn't possibly be worse than the first attempt.

Eyes On You

Thai trailer

Fight for You

Taiwan

Da Hei reluctantly takes on dangerous odd jobs to earn medical funds, unaware that his roommate Xiao Bai is secretly an operative sent by the intelligence agency to take them down.

Flavor of Us

Thai trailer

A critic inherits a restaurant and his mother's debt and to keep the inheritance he has to hire the chef he hates.

Flirt Milk

Thai trailer

Originally slated for 2023, now entirely recast. The facial hair is KILLING me.

Friend to Fan

Thai WeTV trailer

Goddess Bless You From Death

Thai trailer

PavelPooh are back. Thup, a young man with extraordinary senses, is drawn into investigating a mysterious murder case involving brutally mutilated bodies found in the forest alongside the more rational thinker Singha.

Dare You to Death

Thai trailer

JoongDunk as police investigators in a mystery suspense thriller. Yes, I'm in. This is it. This it the one I wanted to instantly watch. Even though their's 20 BLs airing right now.

Head 2 Head

Thai trailer

The Boo kids are back. I don't love this pair (I find their chemistry and acting awkward) or the main trope (E2L) but I do like the new sides and their trope (2nd chance is a fav of mine). So this one will depend on whether those are full side dishes or just crumbs.

I Promise I Will Come Back

Thai-Taiwanese colab

Stars 2 Thai actors and the Taiwanese identical twins from H3, that's mostly intended to be a tourism advert for the Thai countryside.

I'm The Most Beautiful Count

Thai trailer

Not long after famous actor Prince came out as queer and rose to the top of the entertainment industry, he wakes up in the body of a good-looking noble in the Thongburi Kingdom of the past.

Interminable

October? Thai YouTube

BillyBabe are back in a reincarnation historical.

Khemjira AKA Spirit Reborn

Thai YouTube trailer

Was 2024 officially moved to 2025. Supposedly the scariest BL ever. Khem is born cursed. A daughter would be safe but a son dies at 20 so Khem’s mother cleverly gives him a girl’s name, Khemjira “forever safe.” But Knem is baout to turn 20 and he doesn't think it's working so he seeks the help of a curse-breaker, turns out to be his great love from a previous life.

Knock Out aka Knockout

Thai WeTV trailer

A low quality less fun and funny version of Wandee Goodday.

Got too long for tumblr find Part 2 here.

(source)

This post is static and not updated. All information is to the best of my ability at the very end of 2024. Not responsible for changes, cancellations etc...

[gamie99]

Hey, Skibidi Tumblr! Let's do another writing exercise!

I posted the first of these a few months ago on Christmas Day, and I absolutely loved all the responses you guys made! I had so much fun reading your additions, that I just had to do another one! In fact, I've had this exact prompt brewing in the back of my mind for forever! I think y'all will really like it!

(I wanted to add concept doodles to this prompt too, but I'm tired rn and can't be bothered lmao. Maybe I'll add them later ^^;)

In case you missed it, here's the gist!:

Under the cut, I've written a little scene with dialogue involving some of my OCs (in this case, Skip and Solo!). Anyone that wants to participate can reblog this post with their own characters, reacting and responding to the provided scenario!

If you aren't all that good at writing but still want to participate, then that's alright. Bullet points describing your character's thoughts or actions, or even drawing your OC's response are perfectly fine as well!

Happy writing, everybody! Can't wait to see what you'll make this time! :D

They had them cornered now.

In a dark and tiny alleyway in the heart of an old-world city, two traitors stood against the world. The first of them, a lanky Speakerman, dressed in a gray suit and a rather bold and colorful tie. The second, a scrawny Skibidi, with disheveled dark hair and old scars running down his cheek. The pair huddled together, backs pressed against old brick and mortar. The Skibidi tried his best to ignore the pounding pain in the side of his head, as fresh blood ran down the side of his face and dripped below into his slightly cracked bowl. The Speakerman stood in front of him, attempting to put on a brave face. He couldn't do it very well, unfortunately. Who wouldn't, if practically their entire faction was staring them down?

Blocking the entrance to the alley was a large squadron of Alliance agents - cameras, speakers, TVs and all. Speakermen gave the defector betrayed looks of shame, and Cameramen stood at attention with their guns ready - a few of them were broadcasting, the Speakerman noticed. A few TV Men stood amongst them, their arms crossed and their screens displaying disapproving stares. Their lone large unit stood furthest back with with his sub-screens outstretched, shining blinding spotlights down on the little runaways.

Police sirens suddenly sounded off, and the toilet looked up to see the law enforcement of his kind hovering in the air overhead. Mutants and striders stood on the rooftops, glaring down at him with sharpened fangs and glowing eyes that pierced through the dark. This was it. It was over. They were surrounded on all sides. They well and truly had no chance of escape, they were completely and utterly trapped.

Standing defensively in front of the injured Skibidi, the Speakerman reached into his pocket and shakily pulled out a combat knife, rusted and chipped from months of under-use. Holding it in front of him so amateurishly made him look almost freshly built, like he had just begun basic training.

"P-please!" the Speakerman pleaded, his voice waivering with his confidence . "Don't... don't hurt us! D-don't hurt him!"

[ittybluebell]

꧁༺Blue's Garden ༻꧂

welcome to my garden - a complete guide of my growing creative works, all g/t! i don't do vore and i don't post nsfw. i'm all about that fluff and angst, baybee!!

(creative priority is basically whichever concept/fic i am more interested in as i am riddled with adhd and don't know how to juggle projects)

I have a Ko-fi!! I will draw for money :3

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

AO3:

Itty Bitty Brains, an iZombie g/t fic about a borrower named Atom who moves into the morgue. He becomes besties-maybe-more with Ravi while navigating the difficulties of being tiny in a giant, undead world. Fluff and angst! With drama and a slow burn romance on the side.

Nine, a Sense8 g/t fic about a borrower named Clover who is part of the main cluster and the sensates experience the world in a way that is completely new and fascinating to all of them. Drama with a serving of wacky perspective shenanigans, hurt/comfort, and found family.

Roommate, a Daredevil g/t fic that focuses on Finch - a borrower who moved into Matt's apartment - and Matt trying to coexist and all the trials and tribulations that follow. Hesitant roommates become tentative friends as Finch pretends they don't give a damn about a human and Matt's desire to protect who he can slowly turns him into a mother hen. Angst, dry humour, reluctant (platonic) bonding, and some trauma sprinkled on top.

Little Devil, a Lucifer (tv) g/t fic centred on Lex, a lone tween borrower who, unfortunately, becomes the Devil's newest interest when he catches her. Despite Lucifer's general dislike of children and complete disregard of boundaries, Lex latches on to the only adult in her life and Lucifer is bamboozled into the role of an unwitting father figure for a girl that is smaller than his hand. Found family/accidental baby acquisition. Lucifer is Lucifer, in which he grows as a person thanks to the people around him; expect lots of drama and feelings.

TUMBLR:

Itty Bitty Brains || latest chapter (3) || chapter 4 snippet

Roommate || latest chapter (2) || in the cupboard (matt's pov) || the last straw || what is the horned figure? || long-ass post about matt feeling protective of finch || the glue trap

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐀𝐫𝐭 ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

Itty Bitty Brains: Atom (old) || Atom, meet glass cup || doctor's little confidants (old) || Cav

Roommate: Goldfinch || terms and conditions

Hazbin Hotel: batsy oc sketches (batsy sketches the squeakuel) || catch her in the rye

Little Devil: lex got yoinked oh nooo

[infamousbrad]

you see me now, a veteran of a thousand shipping wars

So I just saw the Variety interview with Rebecca Sugar about the 10th anniversary of the first episode of Steven Universe, and I have Big Damned Feelings about something in it. Things that I should know better than to say in public. Old battles that never ended in anything but the shakiest of armistices. Things we all coalesced into an unspoken agreement to never speak of again, but, being me, I can't help myself, I gotta vent. About the second time that Steven Universe fandom made ourselves look monstrous, one of the biggest reasons why other fandoms believe that Steven Universe fans are the worst fans in fandom.

Not only was I right about the Amedot/Lapidot shipwar, I was one of the ONLY people who was right about it. And that doesn't happen often, but I was in a unique place to see it. Because, you see, I am a member of the most hated group in fandom, especially here on Tumblr.

I fucking hate non-canon 'ships. Hate, hate, hate them.

Go ahead, call me a monster.

There are people in this world who, if you hand them a random pile of fashion dolls and/or action figures, are going to make them all kiss and then make them all fuck. It's like that's the only story they know: "now make them kiss!"

And time after time, I'm over here in the outcasts corner muttering to myself, "There is nothing in the canonical source material, nothing in these characters' culture, no authorial conscious or unconscious intent nor in the actors' performances, that suggests that these characters would ever in a million years find each other romantically or sexually attractive, let alone kiss, let alone fuck. There ARE other kinds of relationships, y'know."

In my old age I've long-since learned to let it just roll off of my back like water off a duck, to let them have their disgusting fun, to not let it get to me no matter how much it looks like defacing some artist's beloved work. Not my circus, not my monkeys; let people like what they like.

But.

When we were introduced to Lapis, the very first thing we were told about her was that she had just been released from 5,000 years of solitary confinement in that mirror (for a crime that Pink Diamond framed her for, not that she knew that) and spent some long part of that time in straight-up sensory deprivation with the mirror trapped in Pearl's pearl.

There was no way in hell she was ever going to process enough of that trauma to form any kind of romantic or sexual feelings in just a couple of seasons of a TV show. I found the whole idea that she was going to kiss anyone, fuse with anyone, emotionally repugnant.

Not long after we met Peridot, we found out that she felt deep shame and horror when the Crystal Gems took away her limb-enhancers. We even found out why: she was deep in the Gem Hegemony's propaganda that "off-color," form-non-compliant gems are disgusting abominations. And our Peridot only barely cleared the threshold. Only barely normal enough to have not been straight-up recycled at birth, but still ugly as fuck to a form-compliant peridot. She has known since however many tens of thousands of years ago she was made that nobody was ever going to fuse with her.

There was no way in hell she was ever going to process enough of that trauma to form any kind of romantic or sexual feelings in just a couple of seasons of a TV show. I found the whole idea that she was going to kiss anyone, fuse with anyone, emotionally repugnant.

So I appreciated the scene where she, in a moment of vulnerability, tried to fuse with Amethyst, the first gem she ever physically touched. And I appreciated even more the instilled shame and self-loathing that wouldn't let her go through with it.

So when Amedot shippers and Lapidot shippers went full on nuclear on every social media platform, like scorched-earth mutually assured destruction nuclear, determined to use coordinated action and maximal nastiness against anyone who advocated for a non-canon ship that contradicted their non-canon ship? I spent that whole time losing my damned mind, and the more people got driven off of social media over this (including, for fucks' sake, one of the show's own writing team, Lauren Zuke!) the more I went from trying to gently change the subject to just full-on fucking hating them both.

Rebecca Sugar has just straight-up said that both the Amedot shippers and the Lapidot shippers were wrong, and her explanation for why they were both wrong is pretty close to my interpretation of the writing and the performances (which, and I know this is part of why I have to vent about this, doesn't happen all that often). So if you fought in the Amedot/Lapidot War? I hope you're suitably ashamed of what you did, and I hope you finally learned better.

Okay, I got that out of my system. How you respond to that is on you. Replies and reblogs are open, but if you hate me for saying this, understand that I don't fucking care what you think.

[melis-hellis]

had a dream last night where i was watching random TV bumpers and i saw a comment on a nick jr video where they headcanonned the "nick" in the old nick jr logo (y'know the one where the "nick" parent is holding the "jr" child's hand) as autistic and i screenshotted the comment and posted it on tumblr and then i woke up to find out the person who made the comment hacked my account and all they did was change my profile picture to mr. wolf from the bad guys and post a thirst trap gifset of him. they messaged me on youtube with a death threat