#and that was with the previously established cast

[unnamed-atlas]

Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings

[cynyari]

so i just played through Cyno's story quest it was great, just wanted to share some of the Nahida dialogue that i caught

Sethos- after the funeral for his grandfather

I honestly feel like these are really important lines and I'm surprised they are locked behind Nahida

this was just funny to me. some haikavehass behaviour tbh (except they were like so chill in this quest they didn't even argue once)

This is after their final conversation at the very end. Cyrus has taught him well

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

One of the things that I think makes Narvin such a compelling character is that he’s one of the only actual proper time lords we get to see in the doctor who universe. Like we see plenty of other time lords but they’re either renegades (or close enough), have some sort of importance to time lord society/history as a whole, or just aren’t in enough stories to truly get to know

But narvin is really just some guy, yeah he has a high ranking job, but he’s a time lord who (at least at the beginning of gallifrey) holds the same views about the universe as most other time lords. But unlike many other time lords like this he sticks around long enough for us to get to see him grow and change, we get to see his views/ideas/morality get challenged and the consequences of that

I just really like getting to see a time lord who has little to no knowledge about human life and culture that we also get to know on a deeper level than just a side character or someone who’s only in an episode or two

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

While Erika got to go around on Dumbo again with her father, August found himself wandering over to one of the food kiosks, and returning with a small box of Mickey-shaped beignets, saying, "I, uh, I take it the children like beignets?"

"Oh, certainly," Wilhelm nodded with a smile, saying, "Dorian, his wife, and a lot of the spooks in the house are New Orleans natives, so even when they're not buying beignets from the park itself, they're being baked by the chefs Dorian's got employed, as well as a lotta other Louisiana dishes. Beignets, of course, are one of the twins' favorite."

"Well, they certainly come by it honestly," the Burke patriarch chuckled. "Josephine craved them quite a bit when she was pregnant with June."

"No kidding! Junie craved 'em when she was pregnant with Randall!" Wilhelm smiled, the two of them sharing in the beignets as August asked, "Do you have any similar recipes back in Ireland?"

"Not so much. We have apple cake, porter cake, barmbrack cake, soda bread...but nothing quite like this. I still remember the first time Junie made 'em for me-she really opened my eyes to a lotta the food of New Orleans, and in turn, I got to introduce her to a lotta Irish food too."

He chuckled a little, still smiling as he said, "Sometimes we like to sit out at one of the restaurants here in the park and sip a mint julep, just to get that little taste of Louisiana again."

"They serve mint juleps here?" August asked in surprise, at which Wilhelm was quickly clarify, "Th-They're non-alcoholic! Which is...good. I'm...not one for alcohol these days."

If August picked up on the subtleties of this comment, he didn't show it-instead, he smiled sympathetically, saying, "I...I can understand that. I used to smoke a pipe when June was a girl, but...

...that was a long time ago."

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗬 ˢⁱˡᶜᵒ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Short Fic. Romantic/Wholesome. Established Relationship. Somewhat suggestive. You've noticed Silco smokes a bit too often, so you decide to redirect this habit. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; The edits got me so bad. Also, thank you so much for the absurd amount of support for my first post!!

11.22.24 Masterlist

The dim glow of the lamplight casted shadows across the room, Silco seated at his desk with a cigar poised between his fingers. The air was thick with the familiar, acrid scent of smoke. You wrinkled your nose, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

“Do you ever put those down?” you asked, tilting your head toward the smoldering stick. You've noticed the stacked cigar boxes in the trash, growing more concerned with each box. Not to mention, the amount of ash in his ashtray, it was piling.

Silco looked up at you, arching a brow, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

You hesitated, then pushed off the doorway, closing the space between you, floorboards creaking with each step. “Actually, I would. So, I’ve got an idea. A new… rule, I'll say.”

His good eye gleamed with amusement as he leaned back in his chair. “A rule? Do tell.”

“Mhm,” you said firmly, planting your hands on the edge of his desk, looming over his seated figure. “Every time you want to smoke, you come kiss me instead.” You gestured to yourself, festering a cheeky grin.

The smirk on his face grew wider, more dangerous, as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk, covering the paperwork he previously had laid out. “Every time?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Every time.”

“An intriguing proposition,” he mused, extinguishing his cigar in the ashtray. You listened to the sizzling sound it made as he grounded it against the rustic metal. “Very well. Let’s see how committed you are to this… intervention.”

You didn’t have time to prepare for what came next. Silco was on his feet in an instant, his right hand bracing the desk on your left, his left hand gabbing your chin. He pulled you into his lips and captured yours in a kiss that left you breathless, his presence overwhelming, intoxicating in a way no smoke ever could be. You could still taste the remnants of the strong cigar he had smoked seconds prior, ignoring the slight sting you felt in your throat.

You looked at each other, not daring to blink. You could only feel his grin growing impossibly larger.

He pulled back just slightly, his face inches from yours, and murmured, “One.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing as he sat back down, reaching for another cigar.

“Wait!” you blurted out, regretting your choice the second you saw the spark of mischief in his eyes.

“You said every time,” he reminded you, already setting the unlit cigar aside and standing again.

By the fifth kiss in less than ten minutes, you were clinging to the edge of his desk for support.

“Silco,” you breathed, trying to sound stern despite your flushed face, you could feel yourself radiating smoke. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it very seriously,” he purred, his voice low, rough, as he leaned in for another kiss. “The question is—are you?”

You groaned, half in frustration, half in surrender. This was going to be a very long intervention.

By the time Silco leaned in for the eighth kiss, you were certain you had grossly underestimated his persistence—and his ability to weaponize your idea against you. He barely gave you room to breathe, his lips brushing yours with calculated intensity before pulling away just enough to leave you wanting more.

You planted your hands firmly on his chest to stop him, but it was futile. His smirk was insufferable as he tilted his head, observing you like a predator toying with its prey.

“Are you regretting your little ‘rule’ already?” he asked, voice laced with amusement, mocking, even.

“Yes,” you huffed through pursed lips, though your cheeks betrayed you with their warmth. “This isn’t a substitute anymore.”

Silco chuckled, the low sound reverberating through you. “If anything, I’m merely following orders.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he added, “Though I must admit, this is far more satisfying than a cigar.”

“Silco—”

Before you could finish, his lips were on yours again, his hands sliding to rest at your waist. His touch was firm, deliberate, as if he were daring you to challenge him. This kiss was slower, and deeper, leaving you momentarily dizzy. When he finally pulled back, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to shove him away or pull him closer.

“I should’ve added limits,” you muttered in your flustered state, trying to regain your composure.

“You should’ve thought of that before tempting me,” he replied, his tone smooth and teasing. He sauntered back to his desk, picking up the cigar he’d abandoned earlier. He didn’t light it, just turned it in his fingers, watching you. “Now, every time I feel the urge… I’m reminded of how delightful your little rule is.”

You narrowed your eyes, pointing at the cigar. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Am I?” He raised a brow, his smirk widening.

The next few hours were a relentless cycle of him testing your resolve. Every time his hand drifted toward his cigar case, you braced yourself. And every time, he kissed you like he’d been waiting an eternity to do it.

By the end of the day, you were sprawled on the sofa, utterly spent, while Silco sat beside you with an air of triumph.

“You look tired,” he observed, a trace of smugness in his voice.

“You think?” you shot back, glaring at him.

He chuckled, pulling you closer so you were tucked against his side. “You should be grateful. I’ve gone nearly eight hours without lighting a single cigar.”

“Because you’ve been too busy attacking me,” you grumbled, though the warmth of his arm around you made it hard to stay annoyed.

Silco tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His good eye softened, and for a moment, the playful façade dropped. “Admit it,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You prefer this to the alternative.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch despite yourself. “Sure."

He smiled—not his usual sly smirk, but something softer, almost genuine. “Good,” he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Then I suppose we’ll keep your little rule… indefinitely.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest as he chuckled, low and quiet. He might have won this round, but as you felt his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind losing this time.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[tired-biscuit]

I feel like you’re setting up Logan for an electric kink. You ever hear about people discovering the kink with those prank shock pens? They get the curiosity to see what it feels like on their clit/dick and end up leading into amazing orgasms. I imagine Logan’s metal body would be extra sensitive to voltage running through him

18+ MDNI, fem!mutant!reader // cw: electrostimulation, established relationship. logan gets zoinked a little, if you will.

wc: 1.1k

divider credit: div1nepetal

wait, all that’s on my mind now is mutant!reader with the power of controlling electricity, finally reuniting with logan after spending several weeks apart!

you’ve always been cautious when it came to using your powers, but around logan you have to take that guardedness a step further and be extra careful since you’re basically a contrasting match and thus pretty much deadly to him because of his adamantium skeleton.

and since all of his bones are encased in metal — that is, of course, highly conductive — you’ve made the choice to constantly make sure to never cast your gifts upon him throughout your entire relationship, to restrain your true nature and basically keep yourself on a tight leash for his own safety.

so imagine both your and his surprise when you shake that phantom leash off your neck for once and end up losing control while he’s finally as close as he can be to you…

meaning that he’s got his cock buried to the hilt inside you; fucking you like an animal on top of your kitchen counter.

you’re unsure how it all comes to fruition. in your fucked out state of mind and all the chaos, all you’re aware of is that your legs have somehow ended up wrapped around your boyfriend’s waist, and that you’ve got your heels locked on the small of his back in weak attempt of keeping yourself from sliding down the counter and melting into a puddle of lust and pleasure on the kitchen tiles.

your panties are hanging on for dear life as they dangle around your left ankle — he’d been far too impatient to take them down properly — however they fall right onto the previously mentioned tiles as soon as you curl your toes from how eagerly he licks his way into your mouth, then.

logan wastes no time as he glides his tongue across the flat surface of your teeth and deepens the kiss in a way that could almost come across as him worrying that he might never get another chance to do so again. he relishes the way you taste with a soft grunt and an even softer “missed ya”, and you swear to whatever god is up there, probably disapprovingly shaking their head at your current actions, that the subtle growl that’s lacing his voice is enough to make you go batshit crazy.

and gosh, as if that wasn’t enough already, you’re also so close. muscle to muscle, chest to chest. your foreheads press together whenever a messy, borderline sloppy kiss breaks and a new one begins, and you’re clinging onto him desperately as he continues to rock his hips into yours in that rough pace that makes you twitch each time he hits a particularly sensitive spot that’s hiding deep — so very deep — inside you.

he really has missed you, huh? i mean, normally he’s so aloof, but now he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you. like an apex predator, so possessive and greedy and hungry, but at the same time so full of desire and longing and love that he’s always been too scared to show until as of late.

his cheeks have attained a hot red hue to them from how much you’re both working your bodies, and his rich, dark hair is all mussed up from how many times you’ve ran your fingers through it already.

he’s also sweaty. so sweaty, in fact, that his brow glimmers slightly and his shirt clings to his muscular back and torso.

shit. perhaps you want to eat him, too.

instead of doing that, however, you use the chance to inhale his scent when he leans in to kiss you again. not a moment passes before the smell of smoke and all things wild fills your lungs. he smells heavy and rich and intense and so fucking male. it makes your blood reach a boiling point because of how overstimulated you’ve become from all sensations combined.

but that’s not all. besides the rising temperature in your blood, you’ve slowly, but surely, also started outright buzzing with energy. your skin feels like it’s prickling in the places where his big, calloused hands are touching and grabbing and manhandling you, and every single hair on your body has risen to attention.

there is lightning in your eyes and electricity thrumming in your veins. he keeps pushing into you, using you, fucking you into stupidity, making his way into your goddamn womb, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting.

“logan, fuck, i-…! i-i’m gonna-”

he pants into your half-open mouth from how your jaw slackens all of a sudden, breaths intermingling and spit mixing. picking up the pace even more, he’s physically aching now to help you reach your finish and feel your pussy squeeze around him in the same way that he’s been dreaming about in these last, exruciatingly lonely couple of weeks.

and he does feel it.

well… kind of.

because besides the clench of pleasure, what logan also ends up feeling is a hot, borderline burning sensation that rushes through his skull, down his spine, and spreads throughout his entire body. down to every last tip of his fingers and toes. down to every last hair follicle.

the zap of energy that you accidentally allow to slip from how hard he’s forced you to climax is not strong when compared to your level of power, but for logan it’s like he’s turned mortal again and been hit by one of those giant buses they use for tourists.

goddammit, the wretched thing must be turning back, further pressing him into the ground until he’s mush, because what the fuck?

it makes his teeth vibrate — he swears that he can taste static in his mouth. slightly acidic, his saliva goes runny because of it.

caught off-guard, he sags against you, brain feeling like it’s slowly melting and bones feeling like they’re humming, making you whimper at the immense weight of his body that you now have to help support. you’re too stunned yourself by whatever’s unfolding right now to start voicing any apologies, so all you do is hold him. you hold him tight, while trembling all over.

every breath he takes is shallow. he’s overwhelmingly warm and eerily quiet. when he at long last feels conscious enough to pull back a little so that he can look at you again, his eyelids are heavily hooded and his pupils are dilated to the point where they remind you of the dinner plates that are stored in the cupboard that’s next to your head.

he’s completely dazed.

and it’s not until you can hear something dripping onto the tiles below and feel the stickiness between your legs, that you realize that he’s spilled every last drop of cum into you because of it.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Zoro is always happy to wish you good morning with a surprise, especially if that means he gets to play with you while you’re asleep. 😳😳😳 ~1.5k words.

CW: Afab reader, no gendered language. Somnophilia, P in V, previously established consent (it is mentioned once or twice, but I just wanted to emphasize that this is consensual).

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A hazy sensation: arousal and heat pulsed between your legs. You slept peacefully, dreaming that someone was rubbing your clit softly, fingers passing through your slippery wet core and toying with your entrance. It was a delicious dream, one of the best sex dreams you’d had in a long time. You were content and tingly as your mind wandered amidst nasty fantasies.

But you weren’t just dreaming. In reality, Zoro had one of his hands down your panties as you slept. He was laying down next to you on his side, taking in the sight of your curves and soft breaths, the way your head rested limply on the pillow and how your lips were parted. You were fast asleep and dripping wet for him, thighs spread wide. It was around 5:00AM.

Faint blueish light filtered through the shutters of the room’s porthole, casting just enough pale color so he could see you in detail. He gazed down at where his hand was buried in the smooth fabric of your underwear, playing with your clit and folds. His thick fingers delicately rubbed and petted your sensitive spots, coaxing pleasure out of you while you laid there unconscious.

You were so wet that it felt like you were melting on him. He slid his middle finger into you as tenderly he could. When you sighed and shifted slightly, he held still. Zoro wanted to make you cum on his fingers. It got him off beyond belief to think that he could do things to your body when you were out could that got you this aroused.

His erection pressed on his boxer briefs and he could feel precum weeping out of his slit, leaving a wet spot on the fabric. His cock yearned for friction, but he wouldn’t address it for as long as he could get away with. He was laser-focused on you right now, on your sleeping body and aching cunt.

When he was certain you were still out cold, he slowly brought his finger out of you and pushed it back in. Each pass of his finger stoked more heat at your core and your walls fluttered around him. Sparks of pleasure radiated from your cunt, convincing you that you were having a particularly steamy dream.

Zoro inserted his ring finger and you felt like you were floating, soaking your panties and gushing slick as each second went by. He had to stifle a groan when your walls clamped around his fingers. He angled for your g-spot. When he gingerly pressed on it, you let out another sigh and shifted once more.

Zoro held his breath—it was imperative that you stayed asleep for the time being. He wanted to pull as much pleasure from you as he could. Where would the fun be if you woke up now?

Still slumbering, your orgasm started to build. He could tell that his fingers felt good inside of you, even when you were out like a light.

Zoro’s cock throbbed with each noise that escaped your lips. He could see that you were literally starting to drool with pleasure—it leaked out of the corners of your mouth as your lips hung open. While he studied you carefully, you were totally lost in your dreamscape of lust and desire. It felt real, vivid, and tangible—it felt almost too good to be a dream.

As he fingered you, the heat in your core reached a boiling point. Right before you were going to cum on his fingers, you shifted in your sleep, repositioning on your side so your back was facing him. He pulled his fingers out of you in the nick of time, not wanting to risk disturbing your slumber.

When you settled, your ass faced him, and he cursed himself for not making you cum sooner—but this presented a different opportunity. One of your legs crossed over your body, exposing your ass and core at the perfect angle. He thought he could get away with putting his cock in you without waking you up—regardless of how heavy or light you usually slept, some random nights you just slept extra heavy. He could tell that this was one of these nights.

Stealthily pulling his boxer briefs down, Zoro stroked his cock, pulling precum down his tip and over his shaft with a shudder. Each stroke felt like fire after waiting for so long. He touched himself for a few moments, staring at your ass and the glistening wetness on your folds. When he rotated his hand over the head of his cock his hips bucked up and his muscles tensed. He needed you.

Zoro laid a hand cautiously on your hip and brought his cock to your entrance.

After he swiftly pulled your panties aside, he rubbed the head of his cock on your core for a few seconds. You were messy and wet for him, sound asleep while your body begged him for more.

With a deep breath, Zoro pressed his cock into you as softly as he could. Your walls clenched around his girth, getting adjusted. As far as he could tell, you were still asleep.

He began to thrust subtly, dragging his cock in and out of you at a measured pace. He bit his lip to stop a moan from escaping. Your pussy felt so good that it took all his self-control not to push your head into the covers and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

As his cock glided in and out of your cunt, wet slapping sounds started to echo in the room, quietly at first but gradually getting louder. The clacking sounds were accompanied by light metallic jingles as his earrings brushed together.

A quiet moan fell from your lips and his hips slowed. You were coming to—groggily returning to consciousness, barely sentient as he fucked you. Waking up with his cock in you was something you’d never get tired of.

“Zoro,” you mewled, barely audible, voice scratchy after hours of not being used. You were scarcely cognizant. All you knew was that Zoro’s cock was in you, and it felt great. You didn’t and couldn’t realize anything else. “F-faster.”

You were just awake enough to tell him what you needed, and, of course, he always did what you said.

Zoro picked up the pace, fucking you more conscious by the second. You were moments away from cumming on his dick, so turned on that it was leaving a stain on the covers underneath you. He could feel you grinding on his cock, trying to fuck yourself deeper with it, drowsily following your instincts.

“So needy even in your sleep” he murmured, gripping your hip so forcefully that it woke you up more than him railing you. “Squeezing my cock so hard already. Does it really feel that good?”

You met his words with a whine. The sweet noises escaping your lips made him thrust with more urgency, his grunts coming out at full volume now.

“Z-zoro, fuck,” you whimpered.

He got on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. Your stifled moans traveled through the sheets underneath of you, and you writhed on his cock, still half asleep.

Every time his tip crashed into your bundle of nerves, ecstasy zapped you awake. Your cunt was boiling hot, you were about to snap.

“Cum on my cock, baby. I know you want it.”

It was too much—he had only been fucking you for a few minutes, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t handle it anymore. Your hips bucked and you moaned into the covers, cumming on his cock. He could feel your gummy walls squeeze him as you squirmed desperately. Your thighs shook and your toes curled—it was the best ‘good morning’ you could get. Only seconds later, Zoro’s hips jerked and he came inside you with a groan. His cum shot out so explosively that you could feel it filling you up.

After you were done creaming on his cock, and after he was done creaming you, your croaked out something in your morning voice so sweet yet so simple, and his heart felt like it would stop. “Mmmm. Good morning, Zoro.”

Your heavy-lidded eyes and ruddy cheeks made him smile in adoration. He kissed you, cleaned you up, and cuddled you until you went back to sleep.

that’s all for this one!! i hope you liked it :)

here’s my masterlist and my october posting schedule.

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[wesstars]

hot tea

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: your addams just really needs some physical contact :) wc: 737 tags: established relationship. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters involved are 18+. ooc wednesday. idk something about tooth rotting fluff a/n: first wednesday drabble wednesday, in collaboration with @evilrawr! fluff has been requested by @melrodrigo. still not my strong suit but we’re going for it anyway. 

masterlist

Steam rose from the warm mug that you carefully wrapped Wednesday’s fingers around, but the heated ceramic was nothing compared to the searing lance of your grasp around her wrist. She watched as you settled yourself down on bended knee in front of her, respectfully pulling back your hands. Her own twitched, minutely. 

It hadn’t been that difficult to come knock on your door, 10 minutes before curfew was over. Wednesday knew you’d be there in your dorm, making something absurdly sweet with your—respectably contraband—electric kettle. You’d stepped aside to wordlessly let her in, and she’d taken her usual seat at the foot of your bed. Strewn around were your day’s assignments, a jacket or two, and she wrinkled her nose at the mess. Your lamps cast a gentle candle-eseque light across everything, blurring every sharp edge. The exact reason why she was in your room, well…

“Long day?” Your gaze was inquisitive but warm, as always. Wednesday watched you, taking in your socked feet and soft pants. Then, she did the Wednesday Addams equivalent of what might be considered a frustrated huff from Enid, or a desolate sigh from you: she looked away first.

The reaction was immediate, she noted absently. You tried to catch her gaze again, the slope of your shoulders and the wring of your fingers imploring her to look back at you. “Weds… talk to me?”

She took a slow sip from the mug, avoiding your eyes. To tell the truth, Wednesday was busy aching in the way that she wished you’d reach across the sea between your knee and hers. Her intense feelings were something that she typically kept locked away, not just with the protection of a key, but with a castle moat, bolted doors, and plenty of booby traps. Inside that cage lay other previously dormant feelings, ones that you managed to pull out, sharp knife to soft underbelly, with startling ease. Wednesday set her mug down on the floor, cocking her head at you. Often she’d feel a baser, visceral urge to blurt out whatever thought she had to you. Restraint was becoming more and more difficult, the more you seemed to flay yourself open in front of her for a perusal akin to autopsy.

There was a muffled thump as you got up just a bit to shift from your kneeling posture, and Wednesday couldn’t take it anymore.

She grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling tightly until you were about nose to nose. Her mind knew that your actual body temperature wasn’t that high, even lower than the average, but her cold heart felt the bone-deep bonfire of your proximity as your hands slammed into the bed next to her thighs, preventing you from tumbling into her. You took a sharp breath, a fateful one, as it seemed to pull all the oxygen from the room, leaving Wednesday blissfully bereft of that life force. She didn’t need it, anyway; she was convinced she could sustain herself on the dilating of your pupils, the flickering of your eyes down to her lips.

“Come here.” Wednesday’s voice came out in a rasp, but she reasoned with herself—it was the best she could do after you yanked the air out of her still lungs. That ache of absence turned into a yawning chasm, reserve and restraint tumbling down into that eager maw. Her demand fell into that same ravine, eclipsed by the endless depth of darkness.

You stood from your position to sit on the bed as soon as the plea left her, and Wednesday was impressed at your speed. You pulled her into your arms not a beat later. Everything smelled like a faint mix of linen and honey, between your sweater and your tea, and something in it brought Wednesday’s world to a halt. The skin of your collar was warm against the tip of Wednesday’s nose, grounding like the nip of winter air. The two of you fell easily into your sheets, and Wednesday’s mind finally felt like it had found the smoking gun for the investigation. It settled like a content cat right in her diaphragm, making it easy to breathe you in.

“Is this what you wanted?” Your voice, already sleepy, sent vibrations down Wednesday’s spine. She hummed back, leaning her temple up against your shirt and letting her head fall onto your chest. You didn’t say a word more; you didn’t need to.

--

a/n cont'd: so... playing with words… what do we think :0

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[rochenn]

The year is 2034. Disney announces the production of the show "Resistance: Dooku of Serenno", set during the early days of the Empire, starring CG Christopher Lee.

We begin with a flashback to Revenge of the Sith. After Dooku is beheaded, we learn that he used the Force to supply his brain with blood and oxygen. The movie is visibly retconned - as Obi-Wan, Anakin and Palpatine flee the Invisible Hand, four human parts can be spotted stealthily floating after them.

Dooku, being Dooku, survives the crash and manages to steal away. His head is surgically reattached. Don't ask why nobody else ever stitched their lightsaber-chopped limbs back on. He ends up getting prosthetic hands, anyway. David Filoni said in a behind-the-scenes interview that he thought they were cool.

Previously established canon prevents Dooku from doing anything in-character until Order 66. He lets loose in Coruscant's undercity and becomes the local kooky old man who couldn't possibly be public enemy number one until Mace Windu, freshly fried and unhanded, crashes down in front of him. What a coincidence.

Mace is still played by Sam L. Jackson. He is So Old. He is only there for the paycheck. Disney didn't know how to recast him. He is acting alongside the shell of a man who has been dead for two decades.

After a joke about missing hands that is very funny, the two get along swimmingly. They don't really talk about Dooku's various war crimes. "My droid army would never traumatize a young child," Dooku says with a wink into the camera. Remember to buy your Mandalorian merch.

Mace and Dooku organize an underground resistance on Coruscant in the spirit of the Confederacy. Mace is okay with this. Choice aspects of this arc are compelling, like the fight against fascism under the yoke of cruel state suppression, but tone-deaf allusions to the work of Sophie Scholl cause controversy abroad. Andor did it better. Critics on YouTube who thus far lauded the return of fan favorites and 'faithful casting' tear into the show for pushing the woke agenda.

Nothing Mace and Dooku accomplish has any impact on the Original Trilogy. What were you expecting? The end of the show teases a second season with the arrival of a mysterious woman. Dooku's secret wife. You never knew of her because she was never relevant before. As the final credit music slowly creeps in, she says: "Don't you want to see your son?"

The music swells and we cut to Serenno. The planet has never been mentioned throughout all 15 episodes of the show. Standing in the ruins of Dooku's castle is Dooku's son: back turned to the viewer, gazing into the sunset. Dooku II of Serenno, proud heir, turns his head. He is played by Harry Styles.

Roll credits.

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: just like the clouds, my eyes will do the same…

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: genshin impact | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neuvillette/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 0.86k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: previously established relationship, age gap, character death, angst, blood, dragon reader,

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: haven’t done the archon quest but god i’m in love w him so have this that i literally just fucking wrote start to finish

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

it’s almost cruel, how bright the sun was shining. it shone so strongly it hurt your eyes, made you squint as you gazed up at him — you, his longest lasting companion, and you, who he shields from the burning sun with his own body. the shadow his head and broad shoulders cast across your face is cool and welcome, and you ignore the way his hands shake. 

“i’d do it all over, you know,” you whisper quietly, and he tenses at the sound of your trembling voice, his grip on you tightening. “if the gods were to grant me a second chance at life, i’d make the same decisions — i’d follow for our eternity, and i’d stay. with you.”

“stupid girl, you talk too much,” neuvillette whispers, clutching you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you. “you’re wasting energy.”

clouds, a mixture of white and grey, drift into the limited stretch of sky within your sight. you reply, “it’s never a waste. not when spent on you,” and he whimpers. 

you’ve never heard him so fearful. 

“you — you cannot-“ neuvillette’s words catch in his throat, unable to escape his mouth, and you smile up at him through battle-rouged lips. his breathing shakes, but he forces himself through it. “you aren’t allowed to do this. we swore it, many millennia ago — you and i, unparted until the end.”

you laugh softly, and it hurts. “don’t you see? lover, it is the end.” blood dribbles from your lips as a low, pained noise falls from his own, an animalistic keen that breaks your heart; you can hear his own racing — the fear is getting to him, the panic as well. 

thunder booms. 

“n-no, i said no-!” he says, his voice strong and weak at the same time, and you shakily put a hand over his own where it covers the gaping wound in your middle. 

“even you cannot deny death his prize, neuvillette,” you whisper seriously. behind him, where he kneels on the pristine stone of the courtyard where you’d both been ambushed by enemies he’d finished off in a rage once he saw you fall in a splash of blood, guards approach with young furina in tow. she locks eyes with you, glancing briefly with horror in her gaze at your husband where he holds you while his trousers soak in the pool of blood you’ve created, and hers become wide and scared.

damn it. you’d not wanted her to see; it was already terrible enough that your husband had been with you when you’d been struck, and now the charge neuvillette and yourself had taken was to watch as well? the gods must be laughing at your misfortune. 

“please,” he whispers above you, hunched small and rounded so as to shield you from a threat that had already fallen upon the both of you. he ignores furina’s arrival.  “please, do not.”

lightning flashes, a warning of what was to come. 

he was done refuting fate and denying the gods their entertainment. now he was begging you, publicly prostrating himself before the many witnesses at his back without a single care in the world as long as it meant keeping you. his hand shakes as you clutch it in yours. 

“nothing will change atropos’ claim,” your murmurs, lifting one hand to cup his face. it takes almost all of the strength you have left as you lay there, bleeding out uncontrollably, but it’s all worth it as he nuzzles his face into your palm while his eyes remain squeezed shut. 

“it’s not fair,” he whispers against your wrist, his voice trembling, and you run your thumb along the crest of his cheekbone fondly. 

“life — life isn’t fair,” you force out around bloody teeth. behind your husband, the guards stand silent and furina quietly calls out a worried question you can’t really register as the wind starts to pick up aggressively. the vast picture of the sky behind neuvillette darkens to a deep grey the color of deep sea stone, a sky that begins to grow smaller and darker around the edges of your vision as your strength runs out. your heart pangs as you stare into his eyes. they’re panicked, afraid; you fear what today will do to him. you cannot let it be worse. “neuvillette — husband, look away.”

he shakes his head, and he does not. your brow furrows faintly as he begins trembling anew. 

“n-neuvillette, please…”

no. he can’t. 

“husband-…” with a choked whine, he squeezes his eyes shut.

a soft, fading sigh roars in his ears like the deafening crashing that comes with standing by waterfalls, and a hurt gasp from furina behind him prompts him to open his eyes again. he looks down at you, unmoving but still warm to the touch, and if he were a lesser learned man he’d have been fooled into thinking you were just sleeping — but you were not. you would not ever rest again, despite being drawn into the grasps of the eternal sleep. his breathing comes and goes, unstable and messy, and his heart aches. it burns with an agony as if it’s been torn from his chest—

and it begins to rain. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 — ONE NEGRONI

SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. you’ve met a majority of the clientele already but they don’t match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni

TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remus’ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, he’s a low key stalker ; but sexy… ; stalking is bad, don’t do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i don’t know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; it’s growing on me… ; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!

LENGTH : 1.5k

It wasn’t as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life — you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree. 

Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes. 

Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parents’ money. You didn’t care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly. 

The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, you’ll make it out alive. 

Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves aren’t as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos — your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips. 

“Looks like we have a newbie working the bar,” Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remus’ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, “certainly easy on the eyes, huh?” the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni. 

“Very… innocent— a sweet, pretty, little thing,” James comments on Remus’ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour. 

“Looks like she doesn’t belong,” Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink. 

“Exactly your type, eh? Moony?” 

Sirius’ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friend’s disregarded statement, “Have the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,”

There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club owner’s personal request. 

It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasn’t unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragon’s Blood cocktail — a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. It’s a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didn’t require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be. 

With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with it’s classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows. 

To say that you were stunned was an understatement. 

It was pure luck that you didn’t stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn. 

One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.

It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.

You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears. 

Just do your job…

“Gentlemen,” you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, “I have an order for a Negroni,” you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to. 

“That would be for me,” just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with it’s seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. Nevertheless…

He’s beautiful 

She’s precious 

“Not a problem,” you reassure with a soft voice, “have a good evening,” with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, “gentlemen,” you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.

She doesn’t know… 

Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isn’t long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.

“Don’t get greedy now, Moony,” Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh. 

“That’s not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; she’s a rare one,”  

“So what’s the plan, bossman?” James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.

Remus doesn’t answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remus’ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks. 

He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge. 

Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel. 

“I want a background check and profile put together immediately,” Remus finally orders, “I want to know everything there is to know about her,”

A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldn’t help but picture remus as a mob boss, i’m sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s

[felassan]

July 22nd DA:TV Game Informer article (their last DA:TV coverage article) on Everything we Know about Bellara - cliff notes:

Bellara is Dalish elf (played by Jee Young Han as we know). There might be more to her than meets the eye

"Now, with two of [the elven] gods on the loose, magic has poured back into the world in a big way"

CC is expansive

Bellara is the first companion we will recruit (Neve and Harding join automatically it seems)

She is a mage, a Veil Jumper (who she represents), quirky, energetic, effervescent, optimistic, bubbly, academic, a tinkerer, an explorer of ancient elven ruins

John Epler wrote her and led her development, and collective team effort from lots of departments brought her to life

The BW team really love her

Gary McKay quote: "I love Bellara, I think she's fantastic. I see people that I know in her and so that's how she really resonates with me. I love the whole tinkerer aspect to her. It was a collective to bring that character to life. It was everything from the writers, to the editors, the animators, to character modelers, to the texturing, to how we light her. I'm really proud of that character."

She is a good choice in combat for both support and elemental combos. She starts out as a support character, but can be built in other ways

She attacks with a bow at range using electrically-charged arrows. She can also cast time-slow and healing spells (she can be built to heal Rook autonomously). She does this by channeling magical energy into her gauntlet

As such she leans into electrical damage

Damage type matters a lot in the strategy and tactics of combat

She can unleash a devastating vortex to pull enemies into an electrical storm (an AOE spell)

She can debuff enemies with the shocked affliction, which makes them take passive damage

Corinne Busche quote: "Oh my goodness, she is amazing. [The Veil Jumpers] investigate the ancient ruins of Arlathan. Everything about her character as a mage leans into that, but she also challenges the kind of archetypal idea of a mage."

The Veil Jumpers journey through Arlathan where the ancient empire used to exist and left a lot of artifacts and magical technology behind when it disappeared

Bellara represents this yearning to find the truth of who the elves were after they lost their magic, immortality and a lot of their history

"they still left a lot of their artifacts and a lot of their, for lack of a better term, magical technology behind"

John Epler quote: "A lot of what they know of their past is based on myth, it's based on rumor. Bellara is a knowledge seeker. She wants to find out what's true, what's not; she wants to find the pieces of who the elves used to be and really understand what their story was, where they came from, as well as figure out where they're going next, and find a future for the elves. And within the context of The Veilguard, she joins the team, first of all, to help stop the gods because Bellara feels at least partially responsible since they are elven gods, but also to maybe find a little bit more of who they used to be. Because again, you're dealing with these elves that were around millennia ago that have now reemerged into the world, and who better to teach her who the elves used to be than them."

Magic's place in the world in DA:TV differs from prior games. In Tevinter and other spaces in DA:TV it's much more present by definition and the lore (though the devs wanted to make sure magic didn't violate previously-established lore rules)

Solas is a "determined and tragic character" who "tends to wallow". [nb, these are quotes from the article]. in contrast, Bellara has seen a lot of tragedy in her backstory (we will see this as we get into her arc), but instead of wallowing, she has forced herself to push past it. "She looks at her regrets, and she tells herself, 'I don't want to feel regret'

John: "Whereas again, Solas tends to wallow in his to a large degree. And it allows us to create a very big differentiation. Part of it is also because Solas is an ancient elf, whereas Bellara is a Dalish elf, but she just sees a problem and wants to solve it. She feels a tremendous amount of responsibility to her people [...] to the Dalish, and to the Veil Jumpers, and that drives her forward. That said, she does have her moments where she has doubt, she has moments where she has a more grim outlook, and there are moments where you realize that some of her sunny, optimistic outlook is kind of a mask that she puts on to hide the fact that she's hurting, she's in pain. But in general, she doesn't see any benefit to wallowing in those regrets."

[source]

[justinssportscorner]

Anna Merlan at Mother Jones:

By the time J.K. Rowling, Elon Musk, and Donald Trump were falsely referring to her as a man, the lies about Imane Khelif had already traveled halfway around the world. Last week, two Olympic boxers—Khelif, from Algeria, and Lin Yu-ting of Taiwan—were subjected to brutal international scrutiny about their sex and gender, and whether they were entitled to compete in women’s events; the attention on Khelif became particularly acrid after her opponent, Italian Angela Carini, quit 46 seconds into their bout, declaring that she had “never been hit so hard in my life.” A photo of the two women exiting the ring, Carini in tears, Khelif casting a glance, was widely shared, with people like Rowling—who’s promoted transphobic views for years, but has denied being transphobic—offering heated and derogatory commentary about Khelif.   “Could any picture sum up our new men’s rights movement better?” Rowling tweeted. “The smirk of a male who’s [sic] knows he’s protected by a misogynist sporting establishment enjoying the distress of a woman he’s just punched in the head, and whose life’s ambition he’s just shattered.” 

While the attacks on Khelif are of a piece with familiar recent Western controversies over who is allowed to participate in girls’ and women’s sports, many of the articles and individuals magnifying the debate relied on or relayed the claims of a discredited group with strong ties to the Russian government, a deep grudge against the International Olympic Committee, and a seemingly vested interest in proving that the IOC-run games are, as the group’s leader has claimed, a venue for “sodomy.”

In trying to unravel what led up to this moment, many individuals and news outlets cited a statement released by the official-sounding International Boxing Association, which stated that both Khelif and Yu-Ting had previously been disqualified from competing in the IBA-administered Women’s World Boxing Championships in March 2023. The women were barred from that competition, which took place in New Delhi, following tests the organization has not publicly clarified, citing privacy rules. At the time, IBA president Umar Kremlev told a Russian state news agency that the women had been found to have “XY chromosomes” and claimed the two had “pretended to be women” and “tried to deceive their colleagues.” Even if the IBA’s findings were true, having XY chromosomes does not automatically make someone male—women with Swyer syndrome, a rare genetic condition, have XY for instance. Nor are XY chromosomes proven to constitute an “unfair advantage,” although that is exactly what an IBA official claimed in a press conference on Monday. One pediatrics expert told NBC in 2009—one of the innumerable times this issue has been raised in women’s sports—that such a claim was “malarkey.”

[...] When Khelif and Yu-Ting were disqualified by the IBA back in New Delhi, skeptics questioned how it benefited Azalia Amineva, a Russian fighter. The women were not ruled ineligible until after they’d already competed and Khelif had won a bout against the previously undefeated Amineva. While IBA officials said the sequence of events was due to a week’s delay in being provided testing results, as the Associated Press has pointed out, the decision meant the Russian fighter’s perfect record was retroactively restored. Kremlev isn’t shy about expressing a broad fixation on gender and sexuality, with him, as the sports website Defector has pointed out, decrying the IOC on YouTube for promoting “outright sodomy and the destruction of traditional values.” In the wake of the Paris games’ opening ceremony, he blasted the spectacle, which featured queer performers, as “pure sodomy,” while saying the IOC “burns from pure devilry” and that its president is a “chief sodomite.” He also claimed that “men with changed gender are allowed to fight with women in boxing at the Olympics.” (Videos with such remarks have been helpfully subtitled in English to draw a wider, Western audience.) Last week, Kremlev announced the IBA would give $50,000 in prize money to the defeated opponents of Khelif and Yu-Ting.

[...] The Khelif affair captures English-speaking transphobes with rigid ideas about the nature of womanhood picking up on a politically motivated campaign from a discredited organization at open war with the IOC. Indeed, right-wing organizations in the United States, including the Independent Women’s Forum and CPAC, via its chair Matt Schlapp, have paid for sponsored posts on Musk’s X platform, calling her “a man“—posts that appear when users search for information on the controversy.

The International Boxing Association, which is a Kremlin-led body led by Umar Kremlev that is permanently banned from being the sanctioning body for Olympic boxers, has instigated a transphobic war against cis women boxers Lin Yu-ting and Imane Khelif.

The IBA issued politically-motivated disqualifications of the pair in 2023 that don’t stand up to scrutiny.

[musashi]

Musing on Movie!Nessa's Future in Part 2

A lot of people simultaneously expressing confusion alongside their celebration of Nessarose finally being played by a wheelchair user, because her being able to walk in act 2 is obviously a huge plot point--the spell cast on the shoes is what turns them into the ruby slippers which establishes the continuity and leads to a bunch of other plot threads, etc etc.

This is obviously the reason a lot of people give for her being played by an able-bodied actress in the past, it's obviously a bullshit reason because a huge majority of wheelchair users are ambulatory and can walk and stand for varying periods of time just fine. So like. They could have still had an ambulatory wheelchair user playing her, but I digress: the point is she is played by Marissa Bode in the movie. A wheelchair user, hurray!

These are just the opinions of someone who is not a wheelchair user so take them with a grain of salt (and please speak up if you have your own stuff to say as a member of the community!) but from what I can see as someone who's been insane about Wicked for about 15 years now, the movie did a lot of good for Nessa's character. Previously, the ableism toward her was baked into the metanarrative itself, but it's now been moved to a more realistic place--the characters within the story.

Previously Nessa was treated with little agency or autonomy not only by the characters but by the people writing the story. Most notably of all, her chair is constantly being grabbed and wheeled around by other characters. The movie corrects this--she is very rarely wheeled around except by her father (and he is called out for his coddling/infantilizing of her by Elphaba within 2 minutes of their introduction) and the one time a stranger tries to do this in what reads even to me as a genuinely traumatizing and far too familiar scene for any wheelchair user to have to sit through, Elphaba immediately fucking goes apeshit and starts throwing fucking furniture. Nessa herself also tries to advocate for herself and tell the professor in question to stop kidnapping/assaulting her and is, again, realistically not listened to.

This last bit obviously happens in the stage musical too but Nessa's own agency is much less pronounced. The movie adds little things here and there to give her more of that agency--Elphaba's protectiveness is much less "I have to help and watch over my poor disabled sister" and much more "I have to make sure no one underestimates or takes advantage of her." Even the plot detail that Elphaba was not there to be her caretaker but just to drop her off and make sure she got settled in her dorm adds leaps and bounds to Nessa's autonomy. Her and Boq's shared look in the opening ceremonies where they both bond beforehand at their inability to see over the crowds' standing ovation. And of course, the dance scene, where he no longer wheels her out but instead beckons her to follow him!

These little details add up in ways that are, at least in my opinion, very meaningful. They also extend to the production itself--where the sets were made accessible for Marissa and she was even allowed to do her own stunts, in her wheelchair! That part in the beginning where Elphaba levitates her was her in a harness in her fucking chair and all. Dope as FUCK.

So I am mentioning all of this because I think the people working on this movie have shown that they are unafraid to make changes to Nessa to be more respectful to her agency. The ableism she faces, which is still plentiful, is framed as such instead of just casually brushed off & baked into the narrative. By making these small changes, Nessa is not just an unfortunate stereotype of a disabled woman, but a real and fleshed-out person who is dealing with the consequences of those exact stereotypes in the society she lives in. I really liked that! I don't know how others feel about it, but I thought it was very well-shifted.

All that said, 'curing' your disabled character is obviously, like, the biggest no-no of writing a disabled character. And that plot beat is a huge one in every version of Wicked... so far. But here's the thing. We have a shot of Dorothy wearing the slippers. And they... are silver.

Why. Are they silver.

And they are silver in all of Dorothy's small little cameos. Every single one. Even though this shot, which was used primarily for promotional material to draw people in like "Hey! Wizord of Oz! This is What The Refrance!" did not make the choice to even suggest that they should ever be red. One of the most important pieces of iconography, consciously and notably absent.

I genuinely don't think Nessa's going to have her disability taken away in part 2. With how much love to this part of her has been done to the retooling of her character, I do not think it is a stretch to assume that they will find a way to advance the plot without removing her disability. I believe this because that is the right thing to do for Nessa, to ascend her character, however you feel about it--she should stay in her chair. She deserves to continue on the way she is.

I realize this little change effects a lot. But after seeing part one, I am confident they can do it and do it well and replace what the change takes away with something just as good. I have so much faith in the direction of these movies. I really, truly believe it will happen and it will be good and satisfying and perfect.

It might still happen, sure--Marissa might get a stunt double, or CGI, or some other brand of movie magic. The shoes may still get enchanted and stay silver to pay homage to the original Oz books. But I can't help but consider that idea and keep asking myself... why. That makes so much less sense. Why not give movie audiences the red slippers, draw them in with the imagery, give them one more lion cub in the bike basket or Boq talking about how much he cries or poppies putting the whole class to sleep. Why not give us the ruby slippers when you... could.

I think because this is going to be a big, long awaited improvement. And I think it is hiding there in plain sight.

[writerthreads]

How to write a found family

By Writerthreads on Instagram

The found family story is a type of YA trope where individuals from different backgrounds come together to form a family, possibly to make up for their lack of true family. When it’s done well, found families can be so wholesome and heartwarming, and I simply adore this trope. Here's a guide to help you write a compelling found family in your WIP:

Create a diverse group of characters

The key to writing a successful found family story is to have a diverse cast of characters with different backgrounds, cultures, and experiences. This diversity will make the story richer and allow you to explore different perspectives and themes from different points of views. It also allows for a wide range of readers to find a character that they can relate to.

Establish a common goal

In a found family story, the characters come together to achieve a common goal. This goal can be anything from surviving an apocalypse to starting a business together. It is essential to establish this goal early on in the story, as it will help to create a sense of unity among the characters.

Themes

Using themes can add depth to a found family story by providing a framework for exploring the emotional and psychological growth of the characters. Here are a few examples:

Belonging: The idea that characters finally have a place where they fit in, and the struggles that come with feeling like an outsider previously.

Identity: The idea of self-discovery when a character finally becomes part of a family and has the time and people to communicate with to understand themselves.

Acceptance: Characters accepting themselves and others for who they are, overcoming previous prejudices.

Family: What makes a family, and the classic tropes associated with families and variations of them. Eg. the "mum" of the group who also doubles as the "wild child" at times.

Explore each character's backstory

A found family story is all about the characters' individual journeys and how they come together, and this can be done by giving each character a backstory that explains their motivations and desires. This can justify bad choices that characters may make or simply allow the readers to relate to them more. You can also use flashback scenes or dialogue to reveal important details about each character's past, however, I think flashbacks can be used more sparingly and only if they serve a purpose.

Create conflicts and obstacles

Like any good story, a found family story needs conflict to keep readers engaged. You can create conflicts within the group or create some external obstacles that the group must overcome. These conflicts challenge the characters and force them to grow and change through adverse situations. It’s especially interesting to see how characters with conflicting personalities or life views have friction with each other.

These are some of the tips I could think of for creating a found family in your story. As always our tips are just guides to help you with your book and definitely not a set of rules to follow. Good luck and have fun! :)

[virtualtadpole]

Behind the blue shorts: How an all-boys Catholic school sparked the origination of Thai BL

(Cross-post from Reddit)

One evening this past July in Bangkok's long-time youth hangout of Siam Square, a crowd was gathering in the street, around an area set aside for busking musicians. The mostly young-adult female audience politely applauded as several high school bands took turns performing, but they were actually waiting for a different act. After some time, the crowd began to stir as members caught sight of some two dozen teenaged boys, all in a uniform of white shirts and bright royal blue shorts, headed towards the gathering. As they filed out onto the makeshift stage area, the boys were loudly greeted with passionate, enthusiastic screams, all too characteristic of fans cheering on their idols.

But these boys weren't actual idols - not yet, at least. They were all brand new actors, yet to appear on screen anywhere. They were the cast of Love Sick 2024, an upcoming remake of the pioneering Thai BL series whose tenth anniversary they were celebrating that day, in one of their first public appearances.

Why, then, would such inexperienced newcomers inspire such fervent devotion?

The Love Sick 2024 boys (and three girls) with their audience (Tia51)

Well, for starters, the original Love Sick series is a quintessential classic of Thai BL, arguably the one pivotal work that kick-started the entire TV genre - which in the decade since has developed into an industry worth multi-millions and recognized as a major cultural export. It still holds a place close to many long-time fans' hearts, and BL, like other phenomena of fandom culture, has been known to elicit very enthusiastic emotional responses from followers.

But the scenes witnessed with Love Sick 2024's actors are actually quite reminiscent of those previously seen during the original's release, when BL series didn't yet even exist as a category. Surely, there must be something else underlying this series' - and its actors' - popularity.

Let's take a closer look.

Love Sick's real-life inspiration

In chapter 21 of the original Love Sick novel, Noh, having taken delivery of the music club's new set of drums and overseen band practice for the evening, spends some time sitting around on the stands along the sports pitch next to the F. Building, wondering how he's going to pay for them. It's not long before Earn shows up to rescue him from his financial troubles, but let's pay attention to the location.

The F. Building Noh mentioned is an actual place - F. Hilaire Building at Assumption College (AC) in Bangkok. It is named after Frère (Brother) Hilaire, one of five French missionary teachers of the Catholic Brothers of St. Gabriel who arrived in Siam in 1901.

In the late 19th century, Siam (Thailand's historical name) was rapidly modernizing in response to colonial pressures. American Protestant and French Roman Catholic missionaries played a large role introducing technological and medical advances, and also established some of the first schools in the country as the royal government introduced reforms to formalize the education system. Father Émile August Colombet, the head priest of what was then Assumption Church, founded Assumption College as a school for boys in 1885, and after a decade of growth, the Brothers were invited to help run the school. A convent school for girls, run by the Sisters of St. Paul of Chartres, was established next door soon after.

While the early government schools mostly served the aristocracy, the missionary schools catered more to the general populace, especially the minority ethnic groups who also formed the majority of their congregations. However, while they are remembered today for their legacy of modernization, the missionaries had relatively little success proselytizing, and the large majority of their students remained Buddhist.

Over time, these schools expanded and grew. The St. Gabriel's Foundation now operates over a dozen schools, as well as a university, and Assumption College is regarded as one of the most elite private schools in the country. Its lengthy list of famous alumni includes names from several of Thailand's biggest business families, as well as major political figures, demonstrating its historic stature and the strength of its alumni network. Today, the stereotypical image of its students is of those coming from wealthy or upper middle-class families of Chinese descent, and hefty donations are the norm for families looking to secure placement for their sons.

AC student Keen (Only Boo!) giving a presentation in 2022 on his team's experience joining a NASA-sponsored CanSat (miniature suborbital satellite) competition. It's not like every school has an aerospace program. (Assumption College, via Workpoint Today)

Brother Hilaire, barely 20 when he arrived in Siam, spent his next 67 years dedicated to the school. He learned Thai well enough to write the foundational Thai textbook series Darunsueksa, which remains in use over a century later. Along with Father Colombet, he is memorialized as one of the school's two most celebrated figures.

Today, the building which bears his name overlooks the school's central courtyard, an assembly ground of red brick facing the apse of Assumption Cathedral, an imposing Romanesque Revival structure nestled in Bangkok's old European district along Charoen Krung Road, the city's first modern paved street. Guests headed to the famous Mandarin Oriental Hotel nearby might catch glimpses through the steel palisade fence of boys in their white-and-blue uniforms playing football in the tiny sports pitch - the very place where Noh and Earn had their conversation in the novel. The stands are no longer there, but were present in 2007 when The Love of Siam was filmed at the school. Also appearing in the film, and the site of Noh's classes in the novel, is the 13-storey school building which now towers over the cathedral in order to accommodate its secondary student body of some 2,500 within the limited historic space. (The primary section had been split to a different campus in 1966.)

The F. Hilaire Building clock, and Kao Jirayu as young Tong in the sports pitch, seen in The Love of Siam (Sahamongkolfilm International)

A nativity play right in front of the cathedral would be epic. However, this is artistic licence, as the school's primary section lies elsewhere. This area is now the red brick courtyard; Noh actually mentions in the novel that the school was undergoing a lot of landscaping projects. (Sahamongkolfilm International)

The Love of Siam may have been one of the first few instances where the wider public got to actually see what things looked like inside the school. Although it was only standing in as a location for the fictional St. Nicholas School, there was something about seeing students in their sea of blue uniform shorts that tickled the imagination. Such was the effect that when Love Sick began serializing as a web novel on Dek-D.com a year later, the Thai subtitle, usually translated as The Chaotic Lives of Blue Shorts Guys, undoubtedly helped fuel its popularity.

But what's so special about these blue shorts anyway?

This might come as a surprise to international viewers who've only primarily seen Thailand through its TV series, where they tend to be over-represented, but school uniforms with blue shorts are actually rather uncommon in real life. Let's look back again to Brother Hilaire's time, to find out more about their origins.

A history of the blue shorts

In the early days of formal education, most schools did not have defined uniforms, and AC students wore a varied assortment of costumes according to their ethnic background. The school first introduced a uniform in 1933, consisting of a white standing-collar jacket with metal buttons bearing the school insignia, blue shorts, a white pith helmet, white socks, and black leather shoes (though the helmet, socks and shoes remained optional). This was similar to a form already used by some royally affiliated schools since the 1910s,* though their shorts were navy or black. The reason AC opted for blue shorts is not recorded, though some writers have postulated that it may have been to reflect the common colour of the raj pattern costume, the formal dress of the time.

A class of AC students, with their teachers, in the 1940s. It's unclear whether the shorts were the school's original blue, or khaki green in accordance with the 1939 law. (Assumption Association, via The Cloud)

The first piece of legislation governing school uniforms came out in 1939 under the Fascist-leaning regime of Prime Minister Plaek Pibulsonggram. Male students in government schools were assigned a khaki green military-style uniform to match that of the government's Yuwachon Thahan military youth movement. Some AC students also joined the movement, though those who didn't continued to wear the white uniform, creating an interesting contrast which we'll come back to later. In 1943, at the height of World War II in Southeast Asia, a new law extended the khaki green uniform to all schools, but it's unclear whether it ever took effect as Pibulsonggram was ousted the following year and the Yuwachon movement was dissolved after the war's end.

In 1949, the old regulation was scrapped and replaced with a new one, which codified school uniforms to the almost exact same appearance we see today: for boys, a white shirt, shorts, a belt, socks, and shoes. But the shorts were to be khaki for all schools, except those who requested otherwise to the Ministry of Education. Assumption, together with its sister Gabrielite schools, were among the first to register exemptions and became the only schools with blue shorts for their uniforms for several years.

In 1961, the national regulation was changed again to allow schools to choose between khaki, blue, navy, or black shorts. As time passed, boys' uniforms developed into the convention we see today: black or khaki shorts for government schools, blue or black for private schools. But given their prominence, the image of the all-boys Catholic school has remained one of the strongest associated with the blue shorts uniform.

Not that it mattered much back then, though. In the pre-digital era, people's exposure to different schools was mostly limited to their immediate locality and depictions in the media. While blue-shorts uniforms did feature in some teen movies and sitcoms in the 1990s,† those works didn't really play into the stereotype, and the 1997 financial crisis soon disrupted most media production anyway.

Attracting attention

Then several things happened. The BTS Skytrain opened in 1999, and Bangkok became much smaller overnight - at least for the middle class. Cram schools moved into building spaces in Siam Square left vacant from the recession, and saw an explosion in popularity. School students from all over now flocked to Siam Square in the evenings, and the video classrooms became something of an inter-school melting pot where one could catch sight of all sorts of uniform styles and colours.

And the AC boys, they very much stood out.

It's unclear exactly when things began, but throughout the years, Assumption students had developed a fashion culture of their own. The school is one of a handful that require leather shoes (as opposed to canvas),‡ and its upper-secondary students usually opted for a certain pointy style produced by a couple of old shops on Charoen Krung Road. They would also have their shorts tailor-modified to be very short - typically 15 inches or less, while uniforms coming out of the factory are usually 18 inches at the shortest for high-schooler sizes - and wear them with waists pulled very low. This was despite the rule book stating, like any other school's, that shorts should reach no more than 5 centimetres above the knee. It's actually a common refrain of experiences retold by AC students and alumni that they'd get into trouble for their shorts and shoes whenever the disciplinarian teacher would inspect their uniforms. But it was also part of the challenge, to stay on top of the fashion of their peers and at the same time get away with it.

This fashion only added to the fact that those vivid blue shorts are very visible, like, even from 100 metres away. So, coupled with the stereotype of them being rich kids with likely above-average attractiveness, these AC boys' uniforms easily caught attention, whether they were entering late into a cram school classroom or queuing for the train at the BTS's central interchange at Siam Station during rush hour.

This group strolling down the streets of Siam Square would surely draw plenty of eyes in real life. (Sahamongkolfilm International)

The turn of the 21st century also saw the spread of internet access, and with the early web came the proliferation of online discussion forums, both smaller ones serving specific groups like schools and larger public communities like the youth-oriented Dek-D. Suddenly, it became possible to peak into some of the conversations kids elsewhere were having and share in the knowledge of their hijinks at school. This, in some ways, helped fuel the fantasy of this exclusive boys' world, filled with good-looking guys in revealing shorts who weren't averse to having physical contact with each other.

The online forums also gave birth to web fiction, which soon expanded to include the emerging Y (BL) genre. Naturally, these trends eventually converged to give us plenty of Y fiction set in all-boys schools. But the epitome of these wouldn't arrive until after The Love of Siam hit screens in 2007.

The Love of Siam was probably the first major work in a decade to prominently feature the blue shorts uniform,§ and this time it was actually used to highlight the Catholic boys' school setting, employing AC itself as the location. Though it appeared only in a few short glimpses, they were powerful images that further inspired fascination with the real-life school.

It might be because it's accurate, or because the film has completely coloured viewer's perceptions, but this scene is exactly how one would imagine things to be like in those Catholic boys' schools. (Sahamongkolfilm International)

Then in 2008, Love Sick quietly began serializing on Dek-D's writers' section. The story's premise was simple, but it so effectively tapped into this collective fascination and quickly rose up the site's readership charts. Its popularity came no doubt thanks to author Indrytime's extremely lively and enjoyable writing of Noh, who narrates the story throughout. But a large part of the appeal is also attributable to the lifelike portrayal of his school life, with plenty of references to actual locations both within the school and outside - including the convent school next door and the numerous shops of Siam Square. The novel also name-dropped some of the school's actual teachers who, in Catholic school fashion, are addressed as Miss and Master, and Noh even mentions specific happenings at AC, like the new belt buckles that had been added to the school uniform for younger students that year. The only thing not mentioned was the name of the school, which was intentionally left blank. So close did the story feel to real life that the author had to emphasize its fictional nature when people started speculating about the real identities of Punn‖ and Noh and tried to identify them with actual AC students.

But the most significant reference to real life in Love Sick by far must be its descriptions of what is clearly meant to be the Jaturamitr football competition - a biennial event between Thailand's four oldest boys' schools: Assumption College, its Protestant counterpart Bangkok Christian College (BCC), and the royally founded government schools Suankularb Wittayalai (SK) and Debsirin (DS). The tradition is a HUGE part of school life at these four schools, which pretty much share this culture of intense collective institutional pride.

These boys and their ball game

It's kind of hard to explain all that the competition entails, but the football is just a small part of it. This YouTube video looking at the BCC side makes for a nice intro.¶ There are parades, mascots, Thai-style cheerleading (featuring not acrobatics, but synchronized arm movements), and most notably, the spectacular card stunt displays, which involve the entire student body from the lower-secondary years. The students will spend months practising to perfect their card flips, under the direction of the cheering president. Sounds familiar? That's Earn's position in Love Sick.

Fourwheels (Oxygen, Nitiman, La Pluie), wearing the cheering crew overalls that Noh dreams of, addressing the AC crowd in 2017 (AC Ed Tech)

Beam Boonyakorn (Make It Right) as AC's eagle mascot, though it's often teased for looking more like a chicken, also in 2017 (TTaewTaew Twitter)

The card stunt tradition actually originated at AC in 1942, from the aforementioned contrast between the military youth and regular uniforms. A teacher came up with the idea of having the differently dressed students arrange to form the school initials on the stands. This eventually developed into the elaborate displays done today, which use coloured card booklets to create pixels that together form a detailed aggregate image. Crowds of 1,250 from each school, seated opposite the paying audience, are needed to perform these.

Oat Tharathorn (Fourever You) in the card-stunt-performing audience in 2014; note the plates of colour card booklets set on the racks in front of them. (oattrt Instagram)

Such plates appeared in Love Sick 2024's episode 4 behind-the-scenes clip, but didn't show up in the actual episode. They later appeared in episode 5. (Tia51)

Regular fixtures among these displays include school logos, the royal family, and sponsors. There are also have these coordinated sequences with portraits of students and alumni greeting the crowd, which may feature some familiar faces.

A sponsor ad for Est gives way to AC student Chimon greeting the audience in 2017. (AC Ed Tech)

Alumni PP Krit (AC), Ice Natara (DS), Nonkul (BCC), and Sky Wongravee (SK) welcoming the audience, 2019 (AC Ed Tech)

GMMTV's Marc (AC) and Ford (SK) from the same sequence in 2019; Inn (BCC) from before 2014; AC alum Net Siraphop in 2023 (AC Ed Tech; Suankularb Photo Club; inpitar Instagram)

This attention to popular students didn't exist during novel Noh's time, though. Back then, few people followed the event apart from the schools' students and alumni, and football people scouting for young talent. But the 2010s' "cute boy" craze brought a sharp rise in attention from the sao-Y and cute-boy-following crowds, who flocked to the matches, some equipped with huge telephoto lenses to capture not the football action but cute guys in the audience.

BCC alumnus Inn Sarin photographed in the audience in 2014. Photos of him from the event were virally shared and boosted his following and "cute boy" stature. (inpitar Instagram)

BCC cheerleaders Winny Thanawin (2017) and Ping Krittanun (2019) (BCC Jaturamitr)

The origination of Thai BL

In some ways, the Love Sick novel helped lay the foundations for the phenomenon. It gave readers this imaginary connection to the school, which drove interest in seeing what its real-life students shared on social media, especially as Instagram exploded in popularity around 2012. And of course, attractive boys in revealing uniform shorts was already a winning combination in itself (and the fashion soon spread to other schools).

So it's appropriately fitting that things would come full circle with the 2013 announcement of Love Sick The Series, which generated huge amounts of engagement as fans recalled their impressions of the characters and shared pictures of real-life AC students whom they saw as the perfect Punn and Noh.

As it turned out, recent AC graduate White was cast as Punn, and several other AC boys were also chosen for the many supporting characters. Fans readily took to following these budding actors from the moment they were announced, gathering to meet them after acting classes and supporting them through to the last post-series events. It was a revelation in how dedicated such a fandom could be, without seeing even a second of these actors' work.

For the production, though, it could hardly be expected that explicit reference to the real-life school would be allowed, so they named the school Friday College in the series. (Which kind of bugs me. Couldn't they have at least come up with a vaguely Catholic-sounding name? Anyway, they developed it into a brand and it's stuck now.) They did model the school emblem and uniform exactly after AC's (in its 2008 form, before the new belt buckle), and the same uniform was featured in Thank God It's Friday, a 2019 spin-off set in the same universe. However, the school emblem was redesigned for the 2024 Love Sick remake, maybe because the resemblance now felt too close for comfort. (Another detail that bugs me is how the 2014 series had four-digit student IDs, while the 2024 has six. Most real-life schools have five digits!)

While it would have been a dream come true to see the actual original locations in the series adaptation (even if unnamed), this was not to happen. In fact, unlike its sister school Assumption College Thonburi, which served as the location for Hormones and numerous other works, AC seems to no longer be keen on allowing access as a filming location, and hasn't been spotted in anything since The Love of Siam.

Anyway, Love Sick's broadcast was a turning point in several ways. Of course, it most importantly kickstarted the Thai BL industry,** but this also led to a shift in Y culture where shippers turned their focus from real people to actor pairs from series. "Cute boys" from social media were now regularly tapped to join the many budding modelling agencies, who would try to push them as actors and influencers, and AC students attracted particular attention. Make It Right (2016)'s Peak, Ohm and Beam, for example, were all scouted from the school.

AC students Peak, Ohm and Beam, taken by a fan account in 2016. (allaboutpeak Twitter)

The boys made use of their newfound cult. Popular AC students were tapped to promote the school's annual Christmas Fair, which drew an influx of visitors from their followers, who happily contributed to their fundraising efforts. This was much changed from Noh's time in the novel, when the fair was still pretty much an internal event for students and their immediate friends and family.

Turbo (Love Stage!!) promoting merch for AC's 2015 Christmas Fair (turbotb Instagram)

However, this trend, as with the cute boy craze itself, seems to have largely petered out, especially as life was disrupted by the COVID pandemic and the 2020 protests brought about sharp changes in ideology among young people. Another victim of this has been the Jaturamitr competition, which was postponed for two years before taking place again in 2023.†† But it then became the topic of a huge online drama over the compulsory nature of attendance for the card stunt performances (which not everyone willingly enjoyed), and the negative public attention soured the experience for a lot of the students.

These new concerns seem to have influenced Love Sick's 2024 remake. In the novel, during preparation for the football competition, Noh talks about how hard the marching band was practising, and how he and the band leaders felt the need to push them to perfection, in order to uphold the school's reputation. There's a clear institutional pride in the way he says, "I'm sure the young ones understand. (Or if they don't now, they will in a few years.)"

This stands in sharp contrast to Earn's stance in Love Sick 2024, where he says in episode 4, "If the formation fails, the school’s reputation will just take a hit. But the school doesn’t have feelings, does it? It is they (the young ones) who have feelings."

We'll find out in a couple of hours how else they're updating the depiction of the competition, which was one of the highlight scenes in the novel thanks to how detailed it was with insider info of the behind-the-scenes workings at the Suphachalasai National Stadium in real life. It's an unfortunate fact, though, that it's near impossible that any TV production with a normal budget would even come close to the spectacle of the actual event, with its crowds in the tens of thousands. But let's see how creative the production crew can be.

After all, it's the emotional threads that make the real highlight of the story, isn't it?

Footnotes

* These schools had been set up after the English public school model by King Vajiravudh, who himself was educated in England. Vajiravudh College still uses it as its ceremonial uniform.

† One of these was I Miss You 2 (1996), which was filmed at Montfort College in Chiang Mai, another Gabrielite school. Incidentally, The Love of Siam director Madeaw Chookiat was a student there and became an extra in the film, an experience which inspired him to go into filmmaking. He would later base the Nay-Beam segment of Home (2012, one of the most significant mainstream proto-BL works) at the school.

‡ Most other schools allow both, and their students usually prefer canvas shoes. Nanyang, with its iconic green soles, has long been the most popular brand.

§ Actually there's at least Yong Songyos's Dorm (2006), set at his alma mater Assumption College Sriracha, but it's a horror focusing more on the boarding-school aspect. Yong also created a short film dedicated to the school in 2015, starring four Hormones Next Gen actors (no English subs, but there are hardcoded Thai captions that maybe a tool can translate).

‖ Sorry, but I just can't accept the spelling Phun, as it's plain incorrect. The /p/ and /ph/ are supposed to represent different sounds in Thai, but most Thai people don't understand the system as it's not taught in schools.

¶ As an expat, the video creator misses the meanings of some of the things that happen in the video. The yellow chicken is a reference to a Facebook satirist who's said to bring bad luck to sports teams, while the no-banana sign is a response to the angry chant the BCC side was yelling. It's an expletive that rhymes with the word for banana in Thai.

** Isn't it ironic that a genre revolving around a topic so controversial with the Church should be inspired by a Catholic school? But then, as director Madeaw demonstrated in The Love of Siam, religious conflict has always played an important role in driving social issues, while in the case of Love Sick, it's not actually relevant at all.

†† Yet another victim is the Chula-Thammasat Traditional Football Match, a competition between Thailand's two oldest universities which features similar elements of parades, cheerleading and card stunts. It hasn't been properly held since 2020, and when a substitute event was held in 2024, a huge online drama erupted over the student body's decision to alter certain elements.