#but yeah the point is that there definitely is some history between those two and i feel like they represent two sides of the same coin

[oftheblue]

Another thing I wanted to mention was THAT scene with Vein when it was basically revealed that Lu Guang caused him to have a heart attack via an ability we didn't even know he had.

And we know who else has a heart related ability: Liu Xiao.

I had my suspicions before but with this I feel it's actually really likely that Liu Xiao is someone from Lu Guang's past. Not just as a random stranger that turned out to have it out for them for some reason but that it goes way deeper.

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

Tulpar crew: Least to most likely to have an Alternative (Goth) Partner. [HC's]

AN: No one asked for this, this is purely my thoughts alone. (And yes when i said all I mean ALL...Minus Polle duh.) Please behave yourselves I'm BEGGING you

CW(S): Slight UNINTENTIONAL fetishization of Goth women (it's brief and no it's not Jimmy's doing. It's a reference to a meme, it'll make sense when you read it.)

MDNI banner: cafekitsune

Curly [Least]

I can hear your gasps behind the screen (I'm sorry!)

He doesn't mean it maliciously! I feel like he wouldn't like..Actively seek out a goth BUT he would date (and or marry) one if the chance presents itself.

doesn't really get the fashion aspect, but does like some bands (I can see him liking some of The Cure)

Swansea

Have zero clue when this man was born, or when Mouthwashing takes place. All I know is he's old (not like super old but old y'know)

..I don't think he's ever met a goth? Maybe like once and they were someone younger than him.

Finds the more 'traditional' goth looks annoying in a sense. Whaddya mean you did all that for some fashion?

Another person I can see liking very few goth bands..maybe a song or two. He can't tell you the name of the songs or what bands it is, but if you put on a song that he likes he'll kind of bop his head to it.

Daisuke

Honestly It's hard to pin point his type, based on in game dialogue he likes hot women (who doesn't) and since ones definition of hot varies who knows what he's into.

now me personally... I see him as a straight man BUT for the sake of this list he plays for all teams m'kay?

Similar to Curly I don't think he actively seeks out Goths, but if you two get along and you happen to be goth then yeah.

Would be the type to post "Need me a big tiddy goth gf" as a JOKE, he's joking i swear guys pLEASE. (you cannot tell me that he wouldn't have some stupid shitpost account on instagram or something.)

If it upset you he's taking it down and apologizing over and over and over.

If you think it's funny it becomes a joke between you two.

He canonically likes thrifting so he'd be down to help you find new pieces for your wardrobe (we love a supportive man)

Jimmy

Hear me out-

He does kind of view you as like an accessory, or like a trophy. if you don't dress 'goth' all the time he will view you as fake and not 'goth enough.'

HOWEVER, I do see him having some base knowledge about Alternative subcultures. (I saw a headcannon from curly-my-beloved and that's what made me think about putting him here)

During his high school years he probably considered himself Punk or something. Maybe had one Goth gf that dumped him in a really really messy breakup.

Unironically He would be the fucker to see someone wearing a band shirt and go "name 3 songs" or give you a pop quiz about the band, and call you a poser or fake fan.

I can see him liking some Type o negative, but he strikes me as a metal guy. Metallica/ Rob Zombie maybe? (Every man I've had the misfortune of crossing paths with who was obsessed with either have been the most insufferable dickheads to walk this earth. don't get me started ughh.)

Anya

Firm believer that Anya is one of those goths who doesn't dress goth at all, but her entire playlist says otherwise.

Once in a blue moon she'll get all gothed up but with how busy she is with work and med school she doesn't have time for it.

I can totally see her being the most likely to have a goth partner.

You two share music recommendations often, and sometimes you get into squabbles about what band is considered goth or not. (with love of course)

she KNOWSS her subculture history. Ask her any question about the subculture and she's gonna give you a whole presentation on it.

[aeshiiteiru]

soo could you write about dazai, chuuya and tecchou's red green and beige flags?

…My Flags?

— Their green, red and beige flags ft. O.Dazai, N. Chuuya, S. Tetchou

— Warnings & Notes

sfw | Mix

|| thx for the request, made me have an unwanted reality check lmao

|| kinda angsty but also fluffy and funny, those are based on my own thoughts and opinions!

m.list | writing rules

— Dazai

The green flags

He tries his best to be a good boyfriend. Of course it takes time and effort, but he really tries to give his all for you and you notice it (most of the time). He just tries his best for you (even though he has his moments)

He showers you with compliments. He wants you to know what he feels for you every step of the way. Some compliments are actually just so ridiculous it’s funny

“Mh, ‘bella! You’re so beautiful I would definitely steal your photos, make a fake account, and impress other people online!”

“That’s, uh….creepy but cute, thank you love…”

Conversation with him are never boring! He will find thousands of stupid topics just to talk to you about them! He wants to hear you laugh and see you smile as you state your opinions on all these weird things. (He probably doesn’t want to do his work smh)

The red flags

He tends to gaslight you…a lot. Mostly about that you’re just paranoid that he gaslights you. He doesn’t do it on purpose most of the time, it’s just how he is.

Unfortunately he still flirts with other women. He isn’t cheating, but the sweet words and looks still happen sometimes. He does it unintentionally, but it’s there, it happens. He says he tries to get rid of these habits, but you’re doubtful.

 Dazai runs away from his problems. Always. Whenever there is a conflict between you two he tries to brush it off and act like everything is okey. That is until he notices you’re genuinely upset with him, then he just leaves. He leaves and returns after a few hours or days of no contact and acts like nothing happened again.

The beige flags

 When he notices that he accidentally made you cry, he will jump on top of you to aggressively suck the tears off your face like some human vacuum in order to make you laugh and feel better. It’s ridiculous but it works.

Whenever you ask him what he wants to eat he always, always replies with “you” or “nothing”. No in-between, no specifics. It was funny at first, but at some point you just started to sigh and shake your head at it.

He keeps his undies that have holes in them so that he can surprise you by walking out the bathroom and tearing them off his body only leaving the waist band. He calls it the “grand reveal”. Always whenever you least expect it. Makes you question many things.

— Chuuya

The green flags

He notices the little things. You have a sparkle in your eyes whenever you see a flower you like? Expect a bouquet of these flowers on the table the next day. You pick out a vegetable from your food because you don’t like it? He noticed, and he made sure that that vegetable never appears in your house ever again.

Yeah so he is always trying to impress you with things. He often makes a fool out of himself because of it, but it brings a smile to your face so you let him do his thing.

Chuuya loves to gossip about people with you. You know the second he says “you won’t believe what happened.” Means you’re in for the hottest, spiciest tea spill in history. His gossip is always so juicy it leaves you gasping with every sentence. You love how he trusts only you with it.

The red flags

The way he expresses his anger makes you feel unsafe sometimes. You never know when he will accidentally harm you during one of his anger outbursts. It’s very worrisome to you and actually him too.

He is an alcoholic already a separate red flag, so stuff happens when he is wasted (which is often). Chuuya often tells you hurtful things during that time. It’s things he would never, ever allow to leave his mouth while sober, but we all know drunk Chuuya is not your Chuuya anymore.

Always needs to know where you are and what you’re doing. He is very, very controlling. Is it because he is worried? Possessive? Obsessive?? No one knows. But he is, and it’s suffocating sometimes. You basically have no privacy. (It’s probably because he has trust issues that you’ll leave him at some point just like others ekhem Dazai )

“So, where are you going? Who will you be with?”

“….to a bar, with just some friends..?”

“Is that so? What friends? Actually, I’ll have some of my men go with you to be sure you’ll be fine.”

“……”

The beige flags

Whenever he spills the hot tea of the day in the mafia, you’re no longer “love, dear, doll or baby” etc. No, no, that’s when you become “dawg” or “bro” and you deal with it. He is not aware of it and you never tell him. You are dawg. That’s final.

Whenever he misplaces his belongings, the first thing he does is ask you “what did you do with my (insert item)?” It doesn’t matter what it is, his phone, his hat whatever, he thinks you took it.

When you guys go to bed he scoots closer and closer over the course of the night in order to cuddle you, except he always scoots a little too much and you always end up falling off the bed, and then when you try to get him to move back a little he will complain that it’s late and you should be sleeping instead of waking him up. (He is only half awake the whole time, forgive him for being a bitch)

— Tetchou

The green flags

He respects your boundaries. When you say no, it means no, and he understands.

He never flinches when you order something no sane person would eat. That's because he also does that. (It should be a red flag that his taste in food is horrendous, but he will never judge you sooo forgiven)

He always listens to you. He might not understand a thing you're talking about, or might not get why that thing is so exciting but he will listen, and agree with everything you say to show you he is interested and is paying attention.

The red flags

Puts his job above you. You always come second. He loves you, but if the job required him to break up with you, he would without a second thought. I’m sorry, justice above all.

He is lacking in emotional intelligence. He doesn't really know how to comfort you or empathize with you which leaves you to mostly deal with the emotional distress yourself.

Sleeps with his socks on during summer. Thats all, that’s the reddest flag.

The beige flags

Whenever he's hungry and you're not he will starve himself, because he refuses to eat when you're not eating. It makes him feel bad and you don’t get why.

Whenever you ask him a question he will answer without elaboration. —

"How was work?"

"Good. As usually."

— A man of few words, but you need him to spill the details, right now.

He can't use emojis. He thinks “🙄” is someone looking up, not an eye-roll. It makes texting more difficult than it should…

Copyright © 2023 Aeshiiteiru.

[gaytommykinard]

continuation from this

they fall asleep with josh in the middle, curled up with buck, and tommy behind him. he'd tried to make a run for it after getting cleaned up but josh told him to get his ass back in bed and pretty much demanded that tommy spoon him to sleep.

“i don't remember you being this bossy,” tommy mumbled, lips pressed to josh's bare shoulder.

josh grinned, entirely too satisfied. “maybe i was going easy on you. what with you having the temperament of a stray cat.” and buck burst out into a fit of hysterical giggles.

josh wakes up a little before his alarm is scheduled to go off and goes to shower, walks back into his bedroom to see that buck and tommy have closed the gap between them, still fast asleep wrapped up in each other in the middle of josh's bed. he shakes his head and gets dressed quickly, picks up his things and heads to work, sending a text to ask buck to lock up when he leaves and drop the spare key in his mailbox.

he doesn't expect to hear from either of them. he thinks his part is done, those two idiots are back together and in all honesty it was a fun night. he never thought he'd get a bonus night with tommy, and he never, ever thought he'd hook up with buck. and honestly? he's glad they've found each other. he moved on from tommy a long time ago and eventually forgiven him for the way he ended things. he knew how much tommy had struggled and he could really see how much he's changed, it was clear from the moment buck pulled him into chimney's hospital room with soot all over his face. and buck, well, he wants nothing but the best for buck.

it still stings when he goes home that evening to an empty apartment.

but he gets the call from tommy two weeks later, asking to meet up, and tommy looks nervous as hell when he sees josh walking through the door at the cafe down the street from his apartment building.

josh orders a chai latte for himself and doesn't let tommy get a single word out before he comes out with, “you really don't have to apologise for what happened between us, tommy. it's ancient history, water under the bridge.”

tommy deflates, shoulders sagging. “you sent me a picture of my boyfriend with your dick in his mouth.”

“ex boyfriend.”

tommy rolls his eyes. “okay. and?”

“okay, i was being petty. on behalf of buck, too, you know? he was devastated.”

and tommy nods and josh thinks that's it, they can wrap this up, he got a to-go cup for a reason. he'll definitely see tommy at some point or another, the 118 is a tight-knit group and josh is sort of part of it, at least peripherally. they'll be friends, it'll be okay.

but then tommy asks if josh would give him another chance. and josh nearly chokes on his coffee. stares. asks, “but... buck?”

“uhh, yeah. that's kind of why i'm here. he said he wants to — um —” tommy stammers awkwardly and josh has never seen him blush this much. “i mean, we would both like to see you again. i just, i told evan there's no way you'd — i know i hurt you. and i am sorry. i was—”

“wait, back up.” josh is pretty sure he's imagining things. “are you asking me for another threesome?”

several, tommy says, but his eyes are crinkling at the corners and josh is pretty sure he's joking. he says, just think about it, if you're up for it, send us a text or something, we can meet up and talk about it, all three of us. and then he says he has to go and he gets up and walks past josh on his way out but bends down to press a kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard.

josh stares at his cup until the drink goes completely cold. then he picks up his phone and texts buck to tell him your boyfriend just asked me out, just to make sure buck is in the loop. buck texts back nearly immediately, so when do you want to come over? we're free sunday.

[skzhua]

Episode nine.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: Swearing, suggestive, jealous Min Ho, sad for some parts.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: So much is happening in this one... and it's so long...

"A reason, a season, or a lifetime."

Q paused his workout for a moment. Frowning at Min Ho in confusion, he asked him to explain furthermore. As he stopped massaging his face with the face roller, he sighed.

"Every relationship fits into one of those categories. I read it in a magazine."

Q, not caring much, resumed to working out. Meanwhile, you came out of your room and sat next to Min Ho.

"The point is," he continued. "Y/N and I are starting a relationship. And looking at how things were before between us, I believe we got together for a reason."

"You needed to get laid with a chick?"

You slapped Q's arm aggressively. "What a way to talk about me when I am right here!"

"Not for that, no." Min Ho chuckled. "She showed me that there was more than just casual dating, that it could be worth it."

You laughed and he looked at you weirdly. "What?"

"I'm talking about real feelings and you are laughing?"

"No, I believe you are being sincere and it's real sweet. But it does not fit you at all." you still laughed.

His jaw clenched. "It might not have been that worth it asking you to be my girlfriend, after all."

That shut you up real quick. After a small apology, he invited you in his arms to cuddle before placing a soft peck on the top of your head. You squirmed in comfort.

"Do I have to third-wheel?" Q whined.

"Don't be like this, you have Florian." you assured but it didn't seem to do the trick.

"Yeah..."

Min Ho immediately noticed the shift in his voice. "How are things with him?"

"He's going through some stuff, but I'm here for him."

"That's good. I'm sure he's glad to have you around." you smiled warmly at him.

Having complained about third-wheeling barely two minutes ago, to Q's luck, Dae and Kitty came to join in the living room, skipping before he took her in his arms. Telling each other sweet 'good morning's, the remaining three of you grunted in annoyance.

"And now I am fifth-wheeling." Q muttered to himself.

Min Ho gave the couple the side eye. "It's too early to be this cheery."

"I am this cheery." Kitty affirmed as she and Dae went to the kitchen counter to prepare coffee for everyone. "Not only because I have the most perfect boyfriend in the world-"

"Lucky you." you said as you sat down with Min Ho behind you, rubbing your arms.

"Thank you?" he gasped, offended.

Kitty chuckled before continuing. "But it has also come to my attention that I am failing most of my classes. That means that if I don't do amazing on the finals, I will flunk out of school."

"How is this making you cheery?" you asked.

"Well, if I dwell the fact that I was considered super smart at home and here I can barely keep up, I will start sobbing."

You, on the other hand, had never been doing any better. Your aunt was proud of you for integrating the school perfectly, your uncle praised your grades in his class, you had friends, a boyfriend... This was all too good to be true. You started to doubt that it was going to last, especially with finals coming up so soon.

"We still have a week." Dae spoke. "We're going to make study plans and everyone will help you."

Min Ho shook his head. "I'm very busy and Y/N-"

"Everyone." Dae said in a stern tone. "Guys, Kitty and I are finally together. I'm not going to let her fail out of this school now."

"Well, I'm in. I'll help with chem." Q said.

You raised your hand. "I could ask my uncle for extra exercises in history." you suggested to which Kitty thanked you.

"She definitely needs to work on her Korean." Min Ho mumbled.

"What did you just call me?" Kitty asked angrily, immediately taking offense.

"Exactly." he deadpanned at her.

Dae assured her he'll be helping her with the rest. Being top student, he was the perfect tutor for her. Clinging your mugs of coffee together, you started to get ready afterwards. However, Min Ho did not let you go back to your room and grabbed you by the arm to kiss you.

"I'd love doing that, but I need to change."

He pouted but let go of you. "We can't have a moment to us in this dorm."

You could only laugh at him. You simply adored how much of a softy he was to you.

Tutoring Kitty was either easy or hard. It depended on how motivated she was and, most of the time, she was only discouraged.

"You've got 53%" you said sadly as you gave her back the sheet of paper.

Your uncle happily gave you exam practices for Kitty to study, but with this one being the fourth she did already, you were starting to feel like she was a lost cause. Plus, the library was fully packed since everyone was studying.

"Great." she grunted before dropping her head into her arms.

"It's four percent better than last time."

"And that's what's going to help me pass, yes."

She made a good point. You sprawled on your chair and sighed heavily with her. It looked as if it was the two of you who were failing. And Min Ho just had to confirm that when he sat with you with his Korean lesson books to take over Kitty's tutoring.

"Aren't you two adorable." he teased you and you stuck out your tongue at him. "I'm serious, you are cute."

"Ew." Kitty said in disgust.

"Not you. Y/N." he specified. "I believe it's time to work on your Korean now."

Kitty shook her head. "I am on the verge of dropping out myself. Give me five minutes."

He frowned before glancing at you. "I'm assuming history didn't go well."

"Nope." you chuckled. "I'm sure she'll get the hang of it... We just need to study more."

She let out a whine. "Study, study, study... this is all I've been doing today."

"Stop complaining, you asked us to help you." Min Ho said, frustrated.

He convinced her to get into studying Korean and you stayed with them, having nothing else to do. She started to get the hang of the the basics but it was still very bad. By the end of it, she was able to tell what were some verbs and such.

"Are you coming back to the dorm with me?" she asked while taking her bag to head out.

Min Ho held you by the waist as you walked. "Not today. I have prepared something very special for my girlfriend."

You looked away from him in an attempt to hide your blush. "Another surprise?"

"You can't have enough of them. Don't worry, I think you will like it a lot."

"I'll love it for sure if I'm with you."

Kitty groaned. "I think I preferred it when you were cussing each other out."

"Says the one who is too cheery when she's with Dae."

That shut her up and she parted ways with you, leaving Min Ho laughing with pride. You shook your head in disapproval.

"What? It wasn't even mean."

"Nothing. So, what's the surprise?"

He smirked. "You'll see."

You took a stroll around campus, hand in hand, and he eventually left the grounds to lead you somewhere. Just there, his chauffeur was waiting for you. You skeptically hopped in and he drove off. Being driven away when you didn't know the destination was usually a sign to run away. But you trusted Min Ho, maybe more than you should.

It wasn't even twenty minutes after that he pulled over in front of Han River. A typical date in Seoul. Getting off the car, Min Ho took your hand to help you out and you followed the trail while admiring the view.

"This is so cheesy." you laughed.

"Stop that, it's cute."

You snorted. "I'm sure you brought other girls here."

He smiled in shame. "Fair. But I didn't like any of them as much as you."

Your face became red. A couple of steps later, something popped in your mind. You grew tense and he felt it. As he halted his movements, he rubbed your shoulders while asking you what was wrong.

"What happened with Lulu?"

He gulped. "Should it matter?"

"Kind of."

He sighed and resumed to walking with you. "I went out with her the night after you literally saved my ass. We made out, sure, but I haven't talked to her since."

You nodded. "Okay, and was there anyone else?"

He shook his head violently. "I couldn't get you off my mind after I..." he paused and coughed. "Well, it doesn't matter."

You began to connect the dots. "You had a sex dream about me."

He coughed again. "No."

"So Q was right." you giggled. "How was it?"

"I did not have a sex dream about you."

"Awe, Min, don't be shy."

He looked away and you kept on laughing at him. He fastened his pace in silence. You called out for him and tried to catch up to his pace. He refused to look back at you. But once you did reach him, you were left speechless. On a picnic table, he had delicately placed candles and lights as well as some pillows for comfort. The best wasn't even that. It was the food. You spotted kimbap, japchae, tteokboki, kimchi... The amount was overwhelming.

"I'm... wow." you breathed out.

He walked up to you and hugged you from behind. "I thought we could use a night to ourselves."

You smiled widely. "This is perfect, no one has done something like this for me before."

"Expect to get more of this. Shall we?"

You sat down face to face and he helped you with serving yourself, asking what you wanted to taste first. Every single dish was delicious, you couldn't get enough of it. Min Ho watched you eat, satisfied with how the surprise turned out.

"When did you even cook this?" you asked, still having a bite of kimbap in your mouth.

"I used my chauffeur's kitchen and I missed my classes today."

Your face fell. "Min Ho..."

"It was my pleasure, darling."

You grabbed his hand and stroke it with your thumb. "I love it but I don't want you to fall behind in school because of me."

He gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm doing great in all of my classes, don't worry."

After eating, you went on with your evening stroll. Talking about everything and nothing, it eventually got to the point where he discussed about his parents with you. He understood the lifestyle of his mother but it was starting to get to him more nowadays. If there was one person he loved more than anything, it was her. So being apart from her for so long, he suffered. The relationship with his father wasn't as pleasant. He had pretty much cut off ties with him, not approving of his new way of living life after the divorce.

"Do you miss him?"

He thought for an instant. "Sometimes. But I miss the old him, not what he has become."

"I'm sorry."

He huffed. "Don't be. I'm better off without him."

A silence took over and he stopped you to observe the river. He wrapped his arms around you while you did the same around his torso.

"How did you do when they passed?"

The question took you by surprise, although it shouldn't have since you were already on topic. "I was empty inside. I lost a lot of friends who were sticking to me only for the wealth. I fought a lot with my aunt who didn't even plan on having children and she suddenly had this kid coming to live with her. It was..."

He saw you choke up on your words and brought his hands to your face to stop you from talking any more. "Hey. You don't have to tell me."

"You asked."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but it doesn't mean I wanted to make you think about it all over again and break in front of me."

You got up on your tiptoes – him being the giant he is – and you kissed him. While it was sweet and delicate at first, Min Ho took the lead quickly. Holding you tighter, he deepened the kiss, almost leaving you breathless.

"Shouldn't we get back to the dorm? Curfew is soon."

He didn't want to but you were right. You went back to the car and the driver drove you back to campus.

You didn't know whether it was you or him who started it, but both of you were needy. Walking in the dorm, you couldn't keep your hands off each other as you kept on stealing kisses every two seconds.

"Guys, we're busy here." Q deadpanned at the two of you as he pointed to Kitty with her school books.

Getting his coat off, Min Ho proceeded to help you with yours. "So are we."

Kitty groaned. "Well, don't do that here."

He gave her a look. "But you are all over Dae all the time here, yes."

You dragged him into his room before he would say another stupid thing. As soon ad the door closed, his lips were back on yours. He lost no time in helping get your vest off, both of you still in your school uniforms.

"You're so impatient." you said in-between the kisses.

"Maybe."

You found him shirtless seconds later and you stepped back to his bed. Laying you down, he topped you and started to work on your neck, sucking on your skin. He brushed your thigh gently before giving it a squeeze. You let out a gasp. You felt him smile against your skin. You brought up to your lips again and started to feel him up and you touched his abdomen. His efforts in looking his best truly paid off, you couldn't find him any hotter.

"You're so pretty." he rasped out.

"You're the pretty one."

"You're right."

You slapped him slightly and he laughed. "I think I love you."

You immediately froze. He pulled back slightly before stuttering incoherent words. You only blinked, which made Min Ho sweat. Why weren't you saying anything?

"Y/N?"

You pushed him off and placed yourself so you were laying facing one another. Putting your hand on his jaw, you stroke his cheek softly.

"I love you, too."

The first thing you saw was Min Ho's bare back. You could hear him breathe calmly as the rays of sunshine hit his skin perfectly. So... You slept in his room... Nothing too odd. You were his girlfriend, after all. You tried to get out of bed carefully to not waking him up. But it didn't work as he turned around and brought into his arms, stopping your from getting out of bed.

"Good morning." he mumbled.

"I didn't want to wake you."

"Too late." he said, stretching his arm out.

"Get ready, I'll go make you a cup of coffee."

He grinned and gave you a small kiss. "You're just too perfect, aren't you?"

You walked out of his room to let him change and freshen up and were startled when you saw Yuri sit with Kitty and Dae. You slowly went to make coffee, confused.

"Hi, Y/N." Yuri smiled at you.

"What is happening?"

"I came out to my mom, moved out of the penthouse, and here I am! Living with you!"

You perked an eyebrow at her. "You came out?"

"Yeah, it was hard, but I feel so much better."

"Oh my God, that's great! I'm so happy for you."

She smiled even more. "Thank you."

"Yuri started to help me with history. Want to join?" Kitty asked.

In the meantime of your hot beverage being ready, you sat with them and asked questions to Kitty. You were happy to see she was able to answer most of them easily.

"Timeline of the later Three Kingdoms." Yuri read out loud the memo card, laying on her back while her legs were slumped on the couch, in-between Dae and Kitty.

"890 to 936." she answered automatically.

"The first political state?" you asked in your turn.

"Gojoseon." she said in a broken Korean.

"Gojoseon." Dae corrected her and she repeated properly.

"What is happening?"

You hadn't even notice Min Ho coming out of the room and was now leaning on your seat, rubbing your shoulder softly. You put your hand on top of his and he gave you a quick smile before focusing on Yuri again.

"I moved in!" she answered happily, proceeding to sit up properly.

"What? Why?" he looked to all three of them. "Are you a throuple now?"

"No." they all answered.

"I'm gay." Yuri said and Min Ho seemed to be even more lost so she continued. "I came out to my mom, moved out of the penthouse. Scared, excited..."

"Wait." he stopped her. "You've been gay this whole time?"

"It's not a choice."

"I know, I mean..." he began to say but stopped mid-way. "So you and Dae... you were in a fake relationship?" They nodded. "So Kitty was right?"

Kitty smiled proudly. "I told you I know matchmaking."

His body tensed. "You're not mad at Dae? He lied, and lied, and lied..."

You tensed in your turn. Because you lied as well.

"I was mad." Kitty affirmed. "But then I forgave him, and Yuri, and Y/N-"

"Wow." he scoffed.

He retracted his hand from you and took a step back. You felt your heart pound as anxiety crept in, and not the kind you would feel when something good was about to happen. The kind you'd feel when something bad was coming.

"You're as trusting as my dad's third wife."

"Hey." Dae got defensive. "Kitty and I are good. Leave it alone."

"I'm not good."

The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. At that point, he was ignoring your presence.

"You lied to me, too." he continued. "A lot. I wouldn't do that to a friend."

He slowly dared to glance at you and you gulped. You stood up next to him. "Min Ho..."

"Or someone I care about." he said more softly, though you could hear the pain. "I just wouldn't."

He left abruptly, shutting the door of his room harshly. Meanwhile, you felt the tears prick in your eyes. Things were just starting to be good for you, and you had to mess it all up.

"Finals." Yuri exhaled. "Makes everyone crazy."

You gave her a look but she shrugged and went back to asking Kitty questions. Feeling the need to get away from all of this, you went to get changed and left the dorm. A walk seemed to be exactly what you needed.

So why wasn't it doing anything? You felt nothing but emptiness as you walked by other students. You plugged in your earbuds to block out the outside world and spaced out, heading to nowhere precisely. You checked your phone after a while but you got nothing from Min Ho. You couldn't blame him for being mad at you, you were supposed to trust him the most. You trusted him the most. You were submerged with guilt and, as your mind came back to reality, you were standing in front of the administration of the school. You didn't even need to knock as your aunt had already opened the door of her office only from the sight of you in her window.

"Hey, I didn't know you'd stop by." she cheerfully greeted you but her smile dropped once she took in what state you were in. "Oh, dear. Come on in."

She offered you tea and even if you didn't feel like eating or drinking, you let her make a cup for you. She cleaned up her desk a little to make space and sat in front of you, waiting for you to speak.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

Her eyes softened. "Of course, anytime. Now, tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath. "I don't know. Things got complicated, I guess."

She nodded her head slowly. "I see. I won't tell you what to do but know that I'm always here for you if anything. Time will fix everything, I promise."

You huffed with a smile. "That's what they all say."

"Because it's true." she chuckled and then glanced at the clock in her office. "Your classes start soon. I'll make you a good meal for tonight."

Min Ho: I'm getting coffee with Dae. Do you want me to get you something?

You scoffed at the text. Although you were surprised he was the one to reach out first, this was not the text you thought he'd send.

Min Ho: You saw my message, I know it.

Y/N: I won't be at the dorm tonight, so no thanks.

Min Ho: Where are you?

Y/N: I'm fine.

Min Ho: I didn't ask how you were doing, idiot. I asked where you are.

Y/N: Are you still mad at me?

Min Ho: Yes..?

Y/N: Okay, then I'm not at the dorm to leave you space.

Min Ho: It's not because I'm mad that I don't worry about you. Where are you? I'm picking you up.

Y/N: Don't.

Min Ho: Please.

Y/N: It's only going to worsen things. You'll stay mad, it'll be awkward, and then we both won't be able to sleep.

Min Ho: We'll talk, I promise.

Y/N: Fine. I'm at my aunt's.

You got up from bed and went to the front door. Your uncle, still awake, watched you leave in silence.

"Be careful out there." he said before going back to reading his book.

"I will. Thank you for tonight, it was nice."

He gave you a smile and you left. You waited by the porch of your front door and saw a fancy car coming only a couple of minutes later. You went inside where Dae and Min Ho were seated, coffees in hands. Min Ho passed you an ice americano and you hummed as to thank him. The ride was, as you predicted, awkward as hell. Dae was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt in uneasiness and Min Ho was sipping on his drink every five seconds, visibly nervous.

And the walk to the dorm wasn't any better. As soon as you walked in, you announced you were going to bed. Min Ho immediately stopped you and asked Dae for some time alone with you. Finally just the two of you, you sat on the couch and he copied you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally broke the silence.

You exhaled loudly. "That morning when Kitty ran away, Dae came to our room to talk with her and said it was fake. But then you opened the door, I was there, he didn't know because he left before he saw me. Then I asked Yuri about it and she begged me to keep it to myself."

He hummed. "Okay. I get it for back then because we both didn't like each other. But what about after?"

You shrugged. "It wasn't for me to tell you. I swear I just wanted to have nothing to do with all of it."

He took your hand in his. That's a good start.

"From now on, don't lie to me like this again."

You nodded and that's all it took for him to bring you into his embrace. You melted at the touch and engulfed your head in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

He hushed you. "It's okay. I might have overreacted."

You laughed in agreement. The rest of the evening went on smoothly. He invited you to stay with him for the night and he pulled his laptop to his bed so you could watch something together. Dae complained a few times about the volume and the giggles you would slip out every now and then. Other than that, you felt at peace. You were just content that things were back to normal, and you fell asleep soon after.

You groaned loudly as Yuri kept on blabbering about the talent show. To help Kitty get ten percent bonus on her exam, she gathered as many people as she could to do a traditional dance. That was the condition Lee put in place to boost the notes. And you were not left out of it.

"We have to help her, Y/N."

You played around with the food in your plate as another sigh left your mouth. "I don't know, Yuri."

"You'll get ten percent more, too."

You shook your head. "I already have excellent grades, I don't need bonuses."

"She's your friend."

"So is she yours, and you're already doing it. She doesn't need both of us."

She rolled her eyes at you. "The more, the better."

You then saw a guy from your English class walk to your table. Byungwon, if you remembered well. He used to go to school with you and Yuri during middle school. Apart from brief 'hi's and nods of acknowledgement, you hadn't talked to him in years.

"Can I sit here?" he smiled at you.

Yuri frowned. "Why?"

"My friends are at practice for the swimming team."

"I thought you were in the team as well." you said.

"Injured. I'm left alone."

Forming your mouth in a 'o' shape, you gestured for him to sit with you. "How have you been?"

"Great, apart from the injury. I haven't talked to you two in so long. I figured we could catch up." he beamed at you.

Yuri chuckled. "Yeah, we did draw apart with time. I figured you were living your new life well, you know? Part of the swimming team, girls all over you, good grades..."

He blushed. "You're making it seem bigger than it is. I could say the same for you two. You have quite grown well." He looked at you. "And you look great."

You felt the heat rush to your face, so you focused on your food instead, clearing your throat in the process. "You too." you mumbled.

Yuri's eyes flickered between him and you, a smirk slowly creeping on her face. She knew you used to like him, and so the opposite. Visibly, old feelings easily came back. Though she would have usually teased you about it, she rooted for your relationship with Min Ho. If anything, you were simply taken aback from Byungwon's sudden reappearance.

"You still like her." she teased the guy who instantly gulped.

"No."

You wanted to punch her just there and then. "Yuri."

She shook her head. "Or maybe not. But just so you know, she's taken now."

"I know." he said. "I simply want to catch up, that's all."

A couple of tables further from yours, Q was poorly trying to calm Min Ho down. The latter was fuming. All he could see was the sweet smile Byungwon was shooting at you and the giggles you let out with pink appearing on your cheeks. He knew you wouldn't do anything close to cheating on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be worried about you leaving him for someone else. Adding the fact the two of you began your whole dynamic with hate, he was slightly worried you still had that kind of feeling towards him.

"Min Ho, they're just talking." Dae said, growing discouraged.

"I'm not jealous, I'm just saying that he doesn't need to be so close to her."

"He's only sitting next to her."

He pointed at you. "Did you see that? He offered her his drink!"

"Yeah..." Q sighed. "Not jealous."

Back to you and Yuri, she abruptly got up announcing practice for the talent show was about to start. She gave you an intense look and you knew what she was doing. It most likely was not time for practice but this was your opportunity to get away from this awkward situation.

"Right, we have to go." you coughed out.

"And I'll help you get ready for your date after." she added and your eyes grew bigger at her.

"Ah." Byungwon said, slightly disappointed. "You and Min Ho are real serious."

"They are." Yuri nodded. "Let's go. See you around!"

She crossed her arm with yours before you went out of the cafeteria. You could do nothing more but follow her lead.

"I swear I thought you were going to make him make a move on me."

She laughed. "I might not think Min Ho is the best guy to date, but I know you love him. Plus, it's not the first time I've seen Byungwon look at you like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But now, that means you have no choice but to participate in the fan dance with us."

You groaned in defeat. As much as you loved her for saving your ass, you also hated her.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey-"

You were cut short as Min Ho eagerly kissed you, long enough for people around to either giggle at you or make noises of disgust. It wasn't an innocent kiss either, he was going for it.

"I missed you." he said after pulling back but still holding your hand to walk with you to the auditorium.

"You saw me this morning."

"Not in front of swimmer guy."

Your eyes shut closed. "You saw that, the other day."

"Yeah." Min Ho said as a matter-of-factly. "And I did not appreciate him eyeing my girlfriend like she is some meat."

You patted his shoulder. "Awe, is my little pup possessive?"

He glared at you. "I thought we agreed on stopping with this nickname. Makes us sound like we are furries or something."

You shrugged. "I still like it. But thank Yuri, she's the one who saved me from him that day."

He kissed the top of your head. "Glad to know she's on our side. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Ashamed, depressed, and on the verge of crying."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if you are referring to your feelings towards the wait for your grades or the talent show."

"Can't it be both?"

He laughed and rubbed your hand softly with his thumb. "You'll do great, for both of them."

While he was not allowed to, Min Ho insisted profoundly in coming with you backstage. Saying he didn't want to watch the whole thing and only your performance so you could leave together in advance, he was only disappointed when you sent him back to his seat with Dae.

You walked up to Madison who was crouched next to a machine. "Hey, what are you doing?"

She squealed. "Fireworks, for my next performance."

"You perform twice?"

"Yeah, K-pop."

You rolled your eyes and gave her the fans. Of course she had to do a K-pop dance. You finished up to get ready by fixing parts of your hanbok.

"Yuri-ah."

You weren't sure what Principal Lim was doing backstage to run to her daughter, especially since they hadn't talked since Yuri moved in with you.

"I want you to come back home." she continued but Yuri only gave her the eyeroll. "I'll talk to Alex. I'll make sure you can get to know him."

"Alex?" she said in confusion. "Alex, who?"

Principle Lim froze. "Oh, I just assumed that Kitty-"

"Wait, Alex is my brother?"

And here was another drama happening right in front of you. You learned your lesson to not get involved, so you went to the other girls to ignore what was happening. It wasn't even a minute later that you were up to go on stage. You wanted to bury yourself alive from how embarrassed you were. Not because you were ashamed of your culture, but you weren't a dancer. This was, in no way, one of your strengths.

"How could you not tell me?" Yuri spoke as the performance began.

You tried your best to block them out but they weren't so quiet.

"I thought Alex was my brother and that my mom was the one who was pregnant." Kitty explained. "It wasn't until we snuck out of detention that day and went to Lee's house-"

"Wait, you've known since detention?"

You subtly shushed them and went on to your next move. They seemed to get the message and you were happily back to focusing on your dance.

"How could you hide this from me?"

You mentally cursed them out.

"It wasn't my place to-"

"To be honest?

Madison groaned. "Guys, I'm trying to focus."

This might have been one of the few times you were thankful to her. But your friends being themselves, they continued to bicker.

"I wasn't not honest, I just-"

"Lied by omission?" Yuri interrupted her again.

"You lied all semester about being with Dae on purpose, and I got past it, and now we're friends."

"We were friends." Yuri corrected her.

And with Kitty being Kitty, she clumsily stepped on her robes and tripped, knocking off the firework machine. Fire came out and the whole auditorium stood up in panic, Kitty first as the fabric of her hanbok caught on fire. She stepped back, panic across her face as she stared at the flame. You looked from afar, worried about her and unsure if you should put yourself in danger as well to help her.

You got your answer quickly when you saw your boyfriend running to her. He took his jacket off as he help her sit down on the ground, and crouched down while putting the fire out. She squirmed for a bit until there was no more flame. You observed them as he helped her relax and something seemed off to you. You weren't exactly sure what, but you knew it made you feel sick. It wasn't until Dae arrived that Min Ho went to you, hugging you tightly.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt?"

You didn't hug him back and only nodded. "I'm fine."

He placed his hands on your cheeks. "This girl is so clumsy, she could have put all of you in grave danger."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, luckily, you saved her."

You pushed his hands away and walked further from the stage. He caught up with your pace and took your hand.

"Hey, are you sure you're good?"

You didn't know what to say. You only stared at him in silence, feeling the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger.

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[kalinara]

So recent posts have got me thinking about the Throuple, and how I personally feel about it. And I'll be honest. I dislike it and I love it.

I dislike it because, ultimately, there really isn't much there. A couple of suggestive panels, a house schematic, one scene of expressed attraction between the guys, one scene that seems really heavily implied that they'd intended to go to bed together (I'll post that later, it's from early X-Force and it's pretty suggestive, IMO), and a few cameos in pride issues.

If Marvel was advertising this relationship, I'd call it queer-baiting at best.

But I always kind of wonder about the background of things. And I tend to assume that the Throuple was never intended to be a thing by the suits and higher ups. I think maybe a few creative types kept slipping things under the radar.

It does mean, unfortunately, that, in terms of actual story or emotional development, it's lacking. I mean, look, biased Scott fan that I am, I would have REALLY liked to see Logan apologize for basically everything AvX onward before those two characters hopped into bed together. I'd like to see Jean get to have opinions about everything that happened while she was gone (many things that she'd now remember from her younger self's point of view), before that happened too. These are characters with a lot of history.

So in terms of execution, the Throuple is a fizzle. (Hell, even the Jean/Logan side barely got off the ground. Some bits where she kept him alive when he was trying to save Xavier through time - which she'd have done even if he were just a friend. And one sex scene in the hot springs. That really feels like a satisfying culmination of decades of yearning. If I were a Jean/Logan fan, honestly, I'd probably feel cheated.)

But you know, I do love it for other reasons. Because however shitty the execution, the IDEA is firmly planted and that idea isn't going away.

All you have to do is go on reddit or tiktok and see anytime one of those toxic masculinity fanboys starts bitching about how Logan is 100% straight "blah blah woke agenda", and you get at least three people jabbing back "yeah, except on the moon".

And that's the genius of it. Because NO one likes those particular fans. And so even people who are utterly indifferent to the idea of the Throuple. Even folks who dislike the execution are very pleased to troll that hypothetical dude at every chance.

Marvel can say what they want. Brevoort (whether he believes it or is just Marvel's spokesperson) can say what he wants. The fact that the annoying fanboys go "I'm so glad he didn't walk back his denial and cater to the wake agenda" are just admitting that there's something TO deny.

I'll be honest, I suspect the issue is Logan's fanbase. It's the largest by far and Marvel doesn't want to alienate the straight men in the crowd. But the thing is, they're aging out. And younger generations of fans are more openly queer than we are, and definitely more than our parents were. This is going to be a non-issue. Especially when the new generations start running the asylum.

It'll take a long time, of course, and there'll be a lot of bullshit before then. But you can't put the genie back in the bottle. The idea is out there. And like Kitty, Rachel, Betsy, Bobby, Mystique and Destiny, Rictor and Shatterstar, EVENTUALLY we'll get to the point where Marvel admits what we all know. (And we knew for a while. The Throuple didn't come out of nowhere.)

Marvel's most famous and popular X-Men character is queer.

More than half of the Original X-Men, that earliest dream that creators never seem to be able to stop revisiting, are queer*.

The flag ship pairing of the X-Men involves a woman and a man who are queer*.

That's pretty awesome.

(*I know technically we're talking about an MMF throuple and it doesn't rule out Jean being straight, but let's be honest here. Jean's got more than enough suggestive interaction with Storm, Emma, Lorna and Wanda to make a strong enough case for bisexuality in her own right.)

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ Minthara About Slayer

When Minthara speaks about the Dark Urge’s heritage and about Slayer – dark, monstrous entity uniquely connected to Bhaal's bloodline – she uses terms elgg-hor and duk-tak.

Devnote to Minthara’s line seems to suggest that they are merely equivalents of “slayer, killer” in drow language:

In connection to drow lore, though, their meaning is a bit broader. These terms were used as nicknames for at least two renowned drow from Menzoberranzan who were considered exceptionally cruel - even by drow standards.

🕷️ Uthegentel Del'Armgo: Elgg-hor - Elgg-hor can be translated as "Destroyer" (elgg – “kill, slay, destroy”). This nickname, along with a few others, was given to Uthegentel of House Barrison Del’Armgo, one of the greatest warriors and weapon masters in the history of Menzoberranzan and one of the largest drow ever seen in the Underdark. In battle he was fearless, seemingly immune to pain and most mortal wounds, and few drow ever fought with so much reckless ferocity. It was said that he appreciated carnage so much that sometimes he was literally ripping his opponents to pieces, tearing them limb by limb.

Uthegentel’s unusually large appearance, ungodly strength and savage nature were making others suspect that he was not a full-blooded drow, or even more than a mortal – although nobody could tell for sure who (or what) could be mixed into his ancestry.

🕷️ Vendes Baenre: Duk-Tak - Duk-Tak means literally "Unholy Executioner" and it was a nickname of the fourth daughter of House Baenre. Vendes was small of stature, but she was known to be incredibly volatile, vicious and sadistic, enjoying the art of torture. Whenever her mother needed to punish someone, Vendes was more than eager to take care of it, being “…brilliant at her cruel craft, finding every sensitive area on the hapless prisoner.”

Vendes was especially known of wielding seven-headed whip of fangs that could transform the skin of her victims, changing them into ebony statues. She was making use of it to punish lower ranking drow of her house, or even would-be priestesses of the Academy who were seen – or only suspected of – deviating from the Way of Lolth. Statues created as a result of such punishment were put on display for all to see.

🕷️ Elgg-hor and Duk-Tak in Minthara's Memories - Minthara certainly remembers both Uthegentel Del’Armgo and Vendes Baenre – since they were still alive around 14th century DR.

She was probably seeing Vendes especially often since Duk-Tak was her relative – maybe even her aunt. She definitely saw some of her famous statues and probably witnessed how they were made. Who knows - maybe the two of them were even working together at some point, since Vendes liked to punish heretics and apostates among the future priestesses, and Minthara’s oath was also connected to punishing those who turn from Lolth?

It is hard to tell if Vendes was among Minthara’s favourite relatives, being highly unstable and volatile – but Minthara might still admire her wicked efficiency and skills. Maybe she could even see some kind of symmetry between Vendes and Orin (and now I wonder if it could influence her perception of the latter somehow...).

🔹 So... yeah, both elgg-hor and duk-tak seem adequate enough as drow names for a murder incarnate. But originally, they were not used as names connected uniquely to the Slayer - or to Lord of Murder and his progeny in general.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[jisokai]

Out of the Old World

It’s a beautiful day in the garden, the peonies in full bloom and the sky a sea of swirling clouds, when a man falls from your roof. You’d think he’s cute—if he wasn’t convinced he’s from a different world.

sero hanta x reader 5.7k words | oneshot, complete reverse isekai, mutual pining, some angst, strangers to lovers

read on ao3

semi-important note: if you weren't already aware, sero's name is derived from the japanese pronunciation of "cellophane tape" (serohantapu -> sero hanta). i reference it a couple times so that's just for your own understanding lol

+ obligatory mention of these two fics because they are by my favoritest fic authors ever and these in particular are both isekai fics that at least partially inspired mine: Into the New World (also inspired the title teehee), The Butterfly Variant

You’re clipping peonies in your mother’s garden, buried beneath the crystal blue sky, when a yelp and a thud sound behind you, followed by the frantic rustling of bushes. You frown, turning with your scissors brandished like a gun. There’s a man sprawled half on the ground and half in the hedges, taking heavy breaths as he scrambles to stand.

“What the hell?”

He grunts before he finally rights himself. He’s tall and lean, blinking dark eyes rapidly when they land on your weapon. He frowns, looking left and right. “Sorry, we’re dealing with a messy attack. Can you point me to Ginza?”

“Ginza?” you guffaw, gripping the scissors tighter. The man reaches for his ear before frowning, frantically running his hands over his head. “You’re in the suburbs of Sendai. It’s a three hour train to Tokyo. What were you doing on my roof?”

He doesn’t seem to be listening, hands clutching his head. “I’m not in my suit.”

You frown, eyes trailing his simple t-shirt and pants. Is he trying to distract you? Is he… not well? “By suit do you mean straightjacket?”

His eyes dart to his arms, gasping, “My elbows!” He lifts one, yanking it upwards before freezing.

You think they’re a little pointy. “Yeah… those are your elbows,” you try to comfort him.

“They aren’t!”

You don’t respond. What the hell are you supposed to say?

“Do you—What happened to my quirk?” 

Who the hell is this man? Some sort of pick me—someone not like other boys? “I think you’re plenty quirky as you are. Now tell me why you were on my roof before I call the cops.” 

“I wasn’t!” he insists. “I was chasing a guy down Ginza with Dynamight, someone tearing up the street—God, I need to help! But I can’t do anything without my quirk!” His hands slap around his pockets. “Fuck, I don’t have my comm or anything. Do you have your phone?”

Your scissors still sit between you two, pointed defensively. “Are you trying to rob me?”

“What? I’m a hero!”

Your eyebrows nearly fly off your forehead from your disbelief. This guy is definitely insane.

After a series of bickering, you relent and let him take your phone, swayed by the desperation on his face. Even if he’s crazy, he’s concerned enough for you to cave. You lower your weapon, but still hold it firmly while he stands next to you and frantically scrolls through the news. Your body tenses while he types into the search bar, hoping nothing weird pops up in your history.

It’s the first quiet moment between you, enough to let you get a proper look at him—his wide eyes and shaggy hair, the slight stubble that grazes his lip. He’s cute, in a wet dog sort of way.

“W—” he starts, interrupting your thoughts. “Where are we?”

“Sendai,” you repeat. “By Tōshōgū station.”

He stares at you bewildered, now a sad, surprised puppy. “Is this Earth?”

Not cute. He’s not cute; he’s crazy.

“Are you okay?” you have to ask.

He asks for the date, then for you to specify the year. His face twists at the answer. Next comes a frantic slew of questions about current events, wars you’ve never heard of, if the world is quirkless.

“Everyone’s weird in some way,” you try, not understanding what he means.

“No just—do people have powers? Are there heroes? Do you know All Might?”

“… Like heroes in movies?”

His lips press into a firm line.

Crazy or not, you invite him in for tea and snacks, hoping that food in his system will put him at ease. Your mother is out, thankfully, and you instruct him to sit at the table. He doesn’t, instead awkwardly pacing around the room.

“It’s possible I got sent to a different world—universe, or whatever. Back home there are things called quirks—innate abilities. Most people have them. I can shoot tape out of my elbows, for example—”

You gasp. “You’re Spiderman?”

“Spiderman?” he frowns.

Your jaw drops. “You come from a world of superheroes that doesn’t have Spiderman?” You can’t tell if it sounds more or less believable.

“I’m from a world with heroes—ones who need my help right now!” He pauses, looking towards the window. 

“And you’re one of them?”

He nods, finger tucked under his chin. He continues to pace while you pour the tea. You urge him over to sit, setting the mugs on the table with a plate of grapes and crackers. He sighs, restlessly pulling out the chair. His leg bounces.

His world sounds unreal, like an American comic franchise, or a shonen manga you’d mindlessly open at the bookstore. This whole situation feels like a novel in its own right. Isn’t it a trope these days, stories where characters get pulled into another world? You recall lengthy titles, suggestions by the streaming services you're subscribed to. But those stories are the opposite of this scenario—ones where the boring, real life character gets pulled into a fantasyland. Not vice versa.

You remind yourself of the very real possibility that he’s lying. Should you take him to the police? Why did you invite him inside? What if he’s some criminal on the run and you’ve been sitting here making him tea?

“Maybe we should go to the police,” you blurt abruptly.

Sero blinks in surprise. “What? Do you really think they can help?”

You’re not sure, but at the very least they can confirm his identity—and whether or not he’s a criminal. You pause. What would happen if they couldn’t identify him? What if all of this is true, and you make it harder for him to return.

An idea comes to mind. You open the camera on your phone and snap a picture of him without warning. He freezes before protesting, a ruckus of background noise while you quickly upload the picture into the search engine, scrolling to see if there are any matches.

“Hey! What the hell—”

Nothing comes up. You bite your lip. What should you do?

“There’s a chance you’re just some weird guy lying with malicious intentions,” you say. He quiets. “But you don’t exist on the internet. If you were some escaped criminal I’m sure at least one article would pop up.” You frown again, now typing criminal on the run in sendai. Nothing.

He watches you from across the table, eyes relaxing with realization. “I’m not lying, or dangerous. I’ll go with you to the police if it makes you feel better. Ultimately I just need to find a way home.”

You relax more than you should at his reaction. If he’s willing to go to face authorities, surely he’s not an escaped convict. Maybe he can stay with you for a little while—at least until the two of you can sort out next steps to return him.

“Maybe the police aren’t a good idea,” you say carefully. “If you really aren’t from this world, and you don’t have any documentation… I’m not sure what might happen to you.” Would he get sent somewhere? Would that mess with his chances to go back home?

He nods with a sigh. “That makes sense. Shit, I’m not sure what to do other than wait.”

“You…” The invitation pours out, “I’ll talk with my mom, but I’m sure we can host you for a little while.” Is this a bad idea? Are you going to get yourself and your mother murdered tonight?

His eyes brighten, a smile overtaking his features for the first time since meeting. It radiates, and your attraction is suddenly apparent again. You swallow and try not to stare.

“Would you really? That’d be incredible, thank you. I can help out in return—anything you need.”

You could really do without the warmth taking over your chest. Averting your eyes is the only reprieve you can find, and you huff, “It’s fine. Just hope my mom will be cool with it.”

He hums affirmatively. An awkwards silence falls afterwards.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You eventually ask, eyes returning to his figure.

He picks out a grape, rolling it between slender fingers. “Sero Hanta, or Cellophane when I’m on duty. And you?”

You nearly laugh, choking on the tea. “Your name is Sero Hanta and you shoot tape from your arms?”

He rolls his eyes, another smile tugging against his cheek. “I know.”

Again you recall the show in your suggested tab. Titles like: Oh No! I’ve Been Transported to Another World, and it's Magic!?

You bite your lip, failing to smother an idiotic grin. Mister serohantapu might be from a gag manga.

Convincing your mother is hardly a challenge. You tell her Sero’s a friend going through a transition and in need of emergency support—namely a place to stay. She takes one long look at him, then you, and grumbles in agreement before going to bed. You scoff when he tries to take the couch, instead ushering him to the guest room. 

Sleeping is the real challenge. You lay with your eyes closed for nearly an hour, but you begrudgingly remain awake. As you begin to deliberate getting up and doing something productive with your energy, you hear a door down the hall open.

It’s the door of the guestroom. Your eyes blow open, heart racing with fear. Did you make a horrible mistake after all? Should you prepare yourself in case Sero does in fact try to kill you?

He walks past your door.

His footsteps continue until they reach the kitchen. A cupboard opens and the tap runs quietly. He’s only getting himself a glass of water. Your heart calms.

Several silent minutes pass. After you gauge it’s been ten, you huff and sit up, tossing off the blankets as you make for the kitchen.

The scene you find is not one you imagined. A lamp in the living room is glowing softly, the one next to the couch. Sero sits beside it, curled up with a volume of one of your manga from the shelf—the ones you don't mind leaving in shared spaces. He’s facing you, alerted by your footsteps.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says somewhat sheepishly.

You shake your head. “Can’t sleep?”

He mirrors you, shaking his head in return.

“Me neither,” you answer, filling your own glass. You make a point to use the filtered water machine instead of the tap, and then you join him on the other end of the couch. “I lay awake in fear that I’m going to get murdered by a stranger in my home.”

You thought it’d be funny, provoke a laugh from him. Instead his face twists in a grimace. You regret the joke.

“Sorry,” you mutter with shame. “I want to trust you. And as impossible as your story sounds, I want to believe you.”

He nods curtly. “I get it. I can’t imagine I would believe me either.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Sero turns out to be harmless. He also happens to be very handy and useful around the house. In return for housing and feeding him, he assumes the role of a sort of live-in maid. You feel awkward having someone doing your dishes and sweeping the living room for you, but you can’t deny that the help is nice—especially when you’re rushing to work.

He asks to help with the garden, to give him something else to do, so you pull him outside with a pair of shears and show him how you cut the flowers. He looks sheepishly at the hedge near the front door, sporting several broken and twisted branches. You haven’t had the chance to prune it after the incident, so you walk him through that too.

You give him the instructions for watering and point out the ripened radishes that he can harvest. He follows them with ease, eager for purpose. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, having someone with their hands in the dirt beside you.

Sero doesn’t talk much about his home, but he asks questions about yours. You have questions you want to ask in return, about his day to day, who Dynamight is, if he misses his friends.

The faraway look that sometimes shines in his black irises is enough of a confirmation.

After a few days of this you finally ask him something in return. It’s after dinner, when your mother retires to bed. The sun is still setting but she’s early to lay and early to rise. You sit at the table and watch Sero scrub dishes. You offer to dry them, but he refuses.

“What do you miss most about home?” Your eyes widen despite being the one who asked. You meant to start with something easier.

He catches your look and huffs a laugh, eyes dipping back to the suds in the sink. “My friends,” he answers without hesitation. “And my quirk. I guess I don’t really need it in a quirkless world… but it’s a big part of our identities back home. Having normal elbows—small elbows—is strange.”

You squint at his arms, trying to imagine how his elbows might look if tape could shoot from them. What would be different?

When he finishes the dishes he attempts to draw it for you. You make a face—tied between disbelief and maybe even disgust, admittedly. Immediately you try to morph back to neutrality, humming in attempted thoughtfulness. Sero laughs beside you; you were never a good actor.

Your hand comes to your own elbow, trying to imagine how it’d feel to have an additional amalgamation of bone, cylinders of dispensers beneath your skin. The only difference you can imagine is how many glasses you would knock over.

But Sero’s world is different from yours at a core level—a fundamental level that you can’t wholly fathom. He tries to explain it to you, the way life is shaped around these supposed quirks. Society functions at an entirely different level because of them, and subsequently there’s an onslaught of new complexities that come with it. Mostly complexities that arise from an additional category of discrimination.

It’s a difference that hangs over him, one that sits thickly in the air between you two. It’s embedded in his life, in the history he’s lived through.

“You fought a war as a teenager?”

He huffs. “Someone had to, when all the pros started retiring.” 

Huh? 

“You’re saying that grown adults who signed up to protect the country backed out so that kids could stand on the front lines.” What kind of world is this?

His face twists in a grimace. You ignore how cute you think he looks. “Well… yeah. I don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds though. Things are always worse without context.”

You roll your eyes. “I just had to be there, huh?”

He pauses, smiling solemnly before he eventually answers. “I think it would be better for everyone, to have lived in a world like yours instead.”

You want to bring up the crises you think about on a daily basis: the economy, the climate, your horrible working hours and the pay you should be making. You want to talk about the villains of your world, CEOs and war criminals. Instead you say nothing.

Maybe he isn’t from a gag manga, after all.

He laughs, eyes darting from the wall as if an amusing thought occurred to him. “I say all that, and yet I’m waiting anxiously for someone to come by and take me back.”

You scowl. “Your world might suck but your friends are there,” you remind him. “Anyone can understand that. Besides, it’s what you know. You just want to be home.”

Weeks pass. He’s still in your home.

Your mother doesn’t say anything. Sometimes she gives you a look you wish you could decipher, but she remains quiet. You think she likes Sero’s company.

You can admit you enjoy having him around, more than just his services as a housekeeper. He’s good company, easy to joke with—so much so that you forget his intelligence, and the somberness that seems to sweep over his mind on sleepless nights.

Your own restlessness is in tune with his, synchronized unease. It becomes routine to take a night time walk around the neighborhood when you meet him in the kitchen—he says it reminds him of “patrol”—and then plop down on the sofa to read manga, or sometimes watch a movie. 

Eventually you show him spiderman. 

“This feels like watching footage of my own battles,” he mumbles while Peter Parker swings himself through the cityscape.

You grin with delighted amusement. “Really? Shit, maybe you’re inspired by him.” If he’s a character from your world, that is.

You pause after saying it, straightening with realization. Is it insensitive to make comments like that? To see him as a character instead of an actual person?

But he doesn’t say anything. You wonder if he heard you in the first place, with how attentive he watches the film, eyes saucers as he drinks in the bluelight. Your own are glued to his face, entranced by his reactions. Everytime he laughs, your lips quirk. When he’s uneasy you find your own heart racing.

He feels real at this moment. Another living, breathing human that you get to share space with—a couch and snacks and a movie. 

His eyes sometimes dart to yours, and you look away as fast as you can.

Each time you do, you miss his giddy grin.

One morning after a night of popcorn and hero movies, your alarm blares in the living room. You wake with a jolt, heart racing as you scramble to turn it off. The time on the screen shocks you into panic; it's a whole half hour after you normally start getting ready. Did you hit snooze three times without realizing it? Why didn’t your mother wake you?

You scramble to stand from the couch, frowning when you realize the position you’re in—back facing Sero’s front with his arms around you. He stirs while you tear yourself from his grip with a curt shout of apology.

With less than half an hour to spare, you rush through washing yourself and dressing. Your heart races but you can’t tell if it’s from the panic of being late or an entirely different tingling in your chest. (A Sero sort of tingling.) When you finish you run through the kitchen, swiping fruit from the counter before haphazardly slipping on your shoes. You rush through the door with a curt “See you later,” not sparing a glance back.

(And therefore missing the sight of Sero: sprawled on the couch with his face—beet red—smothered in the cushions.)

You manage to catch the bus with a sigh, swiping your card before snatching the last open seat. A man grumbles two steps away, but he looks younger than you—he can manage. With the newfound security you pull out your phone to double check the time. You exhale with relief; you’ll only be five minutes late.

When you arrive at your office and tug at the door you freeze and then scowl, hand retracting with the temptation to claw out your hair.

It’s a Saturday.

“It’s a Saturday,” you announce when you walk back through the front door. You weren’t sure if anyone would be there to receive you, but the smell of proper breakfast food is a pleasant ambush.

“It’s a Saturday,” Sero responds with a grin. He’s drying a pan by the sink, and gestures to two plates on the table.

You fling your shoes off and drop your bag, greedily shuffling towards the food. He sets down the pan to join you.

“Thank you so much,” you say hastily before eating with equal vigor.

He grins before digging in for himself.

Neither of you mention how you woke up together.

(It happens again and again and again, the now assumed conclusion to late night movies.

You still don’t talk about it.)

There’s a certain somberness that settles over Sero when the two month mark passes. Nobody says a word, not even your mother. You start to think that she knows something else is going on, that she’s known from the beginning. 

The air is warmer than it was in April, when Sero first fell from your roof in the middle of the day. Now it’s night time, and the two of you are walking through the quiet streets, the buzzing of cicadas your third presence on the road.

What are you supposed to say at a time like this? Do you tell him to trust his friends, people you’ve never met, to bring him home? Do you tell him that your home can be his, if they fail? How do you comfort someone from another world, whose life is equivalent to words on paper?

You wish you had his story in your hands, a neatly bound stack of black and white that you could read and reread, to understand every piece of him he won’t say. You wish you knew him like a character, had the sort of grasp that would allow you to continue his story for him, to put pen to paper and secure his happy ending. The one where he gets to be happy. Happy and home and with everyone he loves.

That last piece makes your heart hurt.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end you say nothing. You can only offer a void, the emptiness of space to consume whatever feelings he radiates. Maybe you can catch them and hold them, feel them for him so he can take a break.

You wish you could tell him these things, but a boundary sits between you. It’s a heavy thing, refusing to move. The kind of wall that you know you could never pass—too strong to break, too tall to climb, too long to traverse.

He thanks you when you two return through the front door.

You frown in confusion. “What for?”

The moon casts a light behind him, a rim that halos his hair, reflecting as crescents in his eyes. When he answers you can catch the white of his teeth. “Just for being there for me throughout all this. Dealing with my vagueness… Letting me crash with you.”

“Of course,” you say plainly.

You suppress a scowl. Of course? What do you mean of course? Saying it like it’s a given, or the obvious answer.

But Sero smiles, a soft and loving look this time. You flush from witnessing it. Is this really meant for you?

A hand cradles your cheek. Fire erupts from the press of his skin against yours and you can’t help but lean into it. His head ducks as he leans closer and you close your eyes.

The kiss is tender, emotional. Complicated. It’s soft and breathy and his voice shakes when he parts, whispering, “Goodnight.”

You return the phrase by instinct, standing dumbly when he stalks off to the spare room—his room by now. The door clicks shut and you’re still at the front of the house, swallowing as your heart hammers in your chest under the spotlight of the moon.

When you finally lay in bed, sleep doesn’t come. You think it’s a restless night for Sero too, but his door never opens. His footsteps never track their way to the kitchen.

So you sprawl across your futon and stare at the ceiling, later shifting to your stomach so you can shove your face into the pillow when tears start to rain down your cheeks. You muffle your sobs and sniffles, confining them to the growing damp spot on your pillowcase. Your head hurts from the dehydration, and your heart hurts from the circumstances.

Was this your fate? Loving someone from another world—someone who isn’t real, and who doesn’t want to exist with you?

A choked cry releases from your throat, muted by the plushness of your sheets. Your heart pangs deeper when you imagine how Sero feels—

Loving someone from a world he wants to leave.

A week later, the two of you are setting the table for lunch. Sero has a yellow chrysanthemum tucked behind his ear, fresh from the garden.

A sudden thud sounds from the ceiling, then another in the front yard, followed by a string of curses.

You rush to open the door, pulling out your phone to have emergency services ready as you step outside.

There’s a man laying on the garden path.

A rush of déjà vu floods your body as you watch him push himself on his knees, rearing on his haunches before standing straight—or mostly straight, with a slight hunch. He’s beautiful, with glaring red eyes, skin as clear as the sky, and hair like threads of sunlight.

“Bakugou?” Sero’s voice calls from behind your shoulder. Your stomach drops at the hope in his voice.

The Bakugou in question twists his face into a scowl as he marches forwards. Your chest tightens at his approach, but he only nudges you out of the way. His hand aggressively clamps around Sero’s wrist, and the taller immediately wraps the blond in a hug.

You watch the scene intently. Bakugou’s face squishes into the crook of Sero’s neck and while his eyes avert in a display of contempt, his free arm lifts to wrap around Sero’s back, squeezing for a moment at his shoulder before dropping. When the black haired man relents, his eyes shine as he stares at his friend with disbelief.

“Took me fuckin’ long enough,” Bakugou grumbles. His eyes trace the living room before eventually narrowing at you.

You don’t know what to say.

The blond doesn’t give you a chance to think of anything, grabbing Sero by the wrist again and tugging him out the doorway. “C’mon.”

Your heart falls and your eyes widen as Sero stumbles in pursuit. Is this it? Your unceremonious goodbye, after countless late night walks and movies, falling asleep on the couch together, sharing meals?

(Somber kisses in this very doorway…)

The lunch on the table looms like a haunting presence behind you.

Bakugou pauses along the path, fiddling with some sort of gadget in his hand. Sero takes the opportunity to turn back towards you, but his wrist is still his friend’s captive.

“Thank you,” he says, voice sturdy. “For everything.”

You blink. Is this really how this ends?

Every thought and question you’ve ever had for him bubbles up your throat: questions of home, of his friends, of his sorrows and his joys. You want to ask about his family and his day to day, what his favorite manga is, what he does on his off days. You want to probe about his childhood, that world he comes from and the way it’s shaped him. You want to ask about his hopes for the future.

“Yeah,” you say instead. Your voice wavers.

“I…” Sero watches you somberly. “I’ll remember this.”

You nod. You won’t forget him for as long as you live, and even then some more. How could you? You’ll be haunted by your memory for the rest of eternity, the ghost of his presence lingering beside you on late nights.

Bakugou stops fiddling. He turns to Sero with a sharp look. It’s unreadable to you, but Sero seems to know exactly what it means.

He waves at you. Your eyes widen, heart thrumming when it dawns on you that this is it. For real.

Forever.

You raise your hand as the call to wait rises in your throat. Red eyes peer back at you before the blond steps forward and the pair vanish from your sight.

You stand there stupidly at your front door, reaching into the wind as a protest dies in your throat. A single yellow chrysanthemum falls to the ground. Your eyes blur with tears, the dot of gold smearing into the sea of grass beneath it.

“Where’s Sero?” your mother asks when she sits down for lunch. There are three plates on the table.

You swallow thickly, eyelashes fluttering to keep the tears from welling. “He… he got sorted and doesn’t need to stay anymore.”

She grunts, reaching for the bowl of rice in the center. “He couldn’t even stay for lunch?”

You close your eyes and exhale. She’s only playing into the ignorance for your sake.

“Guess not.”

When darkness settles and you toss under the covers, you are isolated in your restlessness. No click of the door sounds down the hall. There are no footsteps leading to the kitchen.

You’re forced through your routine the next morning, mindlessly flowing through the motions while you make breakfast. Nausea grips at your stomach when you stand to wash the dishes.

Exiting the house brings a grimace to your face, too powerful to swallow when you shut the door and walk down the path—where Sero last stood. Next to it sits the hedge he fell on when you first met. There are no traces of that encounter. The branches have stretched past where you pruned them; the leaves have multiplied to fill in the gaps.

Hot anger flashes through your body and you kick the thing before you realize what you’re doing. One of the lower twigs snaps from the impact.

You storm to the bus stop and then sprint to a seat when it arrives. As soon as you sit, the tears flood. You throw your hands over your eyes and cry on the commute to work.

Months pass without Sero, longer than the time you spent with him. You slip back into routine but nothing is entirely normal again. It’s what you promised, quietly and to yourself that day: that you won’t forget him.

Does he remember you like he promised? Are those memories somber—longing aches to have said more, asked more, to soak in the short time you had together? Why weren’t you bolder with him? Why didn’t you summon the bravery to ask and take from him what you wanted?

You return to your daily life, but he haunts the space between yourself and reality. The manga on the shelf are dusted with his fingerprints. You can see them on the cover when you angle it under the glare of the lamp. A faint smell lingers on the pillow he slept with, moved to your bed instead of washed with the other sheets in the guest room. During your evening walks you stare at the sky and wonder if the constellations are the same in his world.

He’s not real, ultimately. He never was to begin with. It’s the sort of situation you can't share with anyone, can’t process with your friends because they won’t believe you. Despite his fictionality, Sero’s isolation from the other facets of your life is part of the reason you can’t forget him—the reason he feels incredibly real.

Your mother knows. It’s a slim comfort because neither of you are willing to talk about it. If she’s worried about you, it shows in carefully sliced fruit and sneaky side eyes, not confrontational questions. 

One day she comes home with a bag, white with blue ink displaying the name of a nearby bookstore. She slides it to you across the counter.

“Saw one of those manga I thought you might like. It’s a new one.”

You hum with curiosity and slide the book from the crinkling plastic. You try not to let your disdain show. It’s one with superheroes on the front, their flashy colors. Shonen isn’t your type, and especially not something that’s going to remind you of Sero.

Despite the presentation and the pristine cover, there’s a fold in the spine. Your mother read it before gifting it to you.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

It takes a week for you to open. You do so begrudgingly, sighing in preparation to read long descriptions of worldbuilding and complicated rules for fake powers.

Instead you frown at the word quirk.

Your stomach tightens when a boy with spiky hair and a twisted scowl appears. The name Bakugou stares at you from the page.

You inhale the book, poring over the panels with rapt attention. Your heart is practically punching your chest as you read anxiously. The world is Sero’s, undeniably. You realize this All Might guy is one that Sero mentioned briefly when you first met. Your fingers shake as you turn the page—with some spite, wishing you could read from Sero’s perspective.

Your heart drops when you start the last chapter. Tucked in the corner of the first page are a pair of boys, one heart wrenchingly familiar. He’s a scrawny kid with shaggy black hair. You bring the book closer to your face, exhaling when you catch the bumps around his elbows.

You wonder if this is the life you’ve succumbed to: stuck wistfully thinking about a background character in the first volume of a manga, for a genre you don’t care to read in the first place.

The rest of the chapter is excruciating. You catch Sero's name listed towards the bottom of the quirk apprehension test results, a glimpse of the back of his head, a small side profile where he looks adorable. 

You stare blankly at the back cover when you finish the chapter. It's the end of the volume. 

This is Sero's story—or at least part of it, a glimpse of his childhood from the perspective of this crybaby main character. Your mind is once again a torrent of all the things you wish you asked him. Instead you’ll be forced to read your answers in fragments, one page at a time, one chapter each week. The book sits heavy in your hands. Your mother said it’s new, but you hope there are more volumes published.

You turn to the bookshelf in your bedroom and shuffle some of the paraphernalia around to make an open spot. You slide the first volume of Boku no Hero Academia right against the edge, sandwiched by a carefully pressed flower.

(That yellow chrysanthemum that Sero left behind—

The only proof you have of his brief existence, other than the rapidly fading scent of oranges on his pillow.)

idk what this fic is don't look at me please.thx

bonus: musings on sero's perspective

[remusawoooo]

came across a very lame and obviously unoriginal anti-w0lfstar post that was written to uplift pr0ngsf0ot claiming canon plausibility as the reason. (honestly, pr0ngsf0ot is compelling by itself idk this new surge of remus/w0lfstar hate but wtv- they are fictional so you do you ig)

*censoring cause i dont want this post to clog up shipper space, its not for that.

this is a rant post so feel free to skip but know that none of this is ever directed to my lovely mutuals. i am usually the type to block and move if you genuinely annoy me (which you all dont <3)

so, a hot take: Sirius is really not as obsessed with James as you all make it out to be, in canon.

is that his best friend? absolutely

did he love him very much? duh

was he devoted or wanted to dedicate his life to James? that's where you lose me icl

if anything James was more interested in entertaining sirius, in the one prominent memory we see of them. there is enough context clues and testimonies to conclude that they were very close. and this is what interested me to ship and explore their dynamic (not a post to say you can only ship with canon hints. im just talking within the topic of my rant lol). there is only one person sirius shows utmost devotion to and that's Harry. that's his godSON, his heir and honestly his everything post Halloween.

it is entirely surprising to me how definitive sirius // james shippers sound when they claim it would be more or most canon. both r/s and j/s operate on the same level of delusion and are informed by canon. yes, I think there is a great possibility in canon that sirius was into james- i love the appeal of pining and even heartbreak if not reciprocated. (I also accept this pining and heartbreak in remus//james if anyone is into that wink wink) similarly, I think that remus and sirius could be romantic starting anywhere in the timeline. a boyish sweet love or secret longing and heartbreak or coming together in their tragedy as adults. endless possibilities, it seems, for all of them.

Anyway, back to the point of this post. its insane to me when w0lfstar in particular gets pushback with emphasis on canon like there isn't chemistry and history between them right on the pages. its not a magnified reading. its there. in their dialogue, their physicality and its Harry clocking all of this. these are two alive and kicking characters in the books that shippers read. idek how many times this has to be said. people genuinely believed this relationship would lead to queer representation in the book, explicit or implied. people did not have hindsight, believed jkr to be a better person lmao. you don't have to accept this reading but you also cannot be so narrow that you refuse to see this reading as a valid experience for other people.

once again, you don't have to ship w0lfstar. at all. maybe the popularity and general hype is the annoying part. there are many reasons to not engage with new age w0lfstar shippers btw. but god this "stanning fictional characters" or hating one immensely for the benefit of another, unironically, is so corny. giving stan twt like what imaginary competition is happening?

another thing that ticks me off is the notion that w0lfstar are not close at all. yeah, i do complex magic to help out people i don't really like for the hell of it as well. ik there will be some justification to those who want to prove their point by any means. "sirius is smart so he wanted to do advanced magic" "he actually did it for james" or wtv else comes up. idk how to tell you that marauders are friends first of all. yes, james and sirius are closer but there is no hierarchy with remus. he is not as close obviously, but he is also on the edges by all of their character designs. sirius, in his recounts, never talks of remus as someone below him or largely excluded, just as someone who was conforming, compliant and the "good boy". it is also quite clear in their communication that they were good friends. james first befriended the quiet kid cause he liked him, supported him financially because that is his good friend. he did not act out of pity. that is a great disservice to his character as well.

this is my personal take/opinion. sirius would obviously mention his relationship with james to harry and not remus' and his friendship. i don't think remus and sirius were secretly closer btw, but it is a bit odd that w0lfstar shippers are expected to write james as the #1 priority for sirius when they are not the focus?(this is a very small group of people btw, miniscule in fact. i'm just ranting to rant, not a larger problem) ig my first hot take comes down to this too. you can interpreted the text as you want and that is okay. you can read sirius as obsessed with james but it is not canon. so to dunk on other shippers when they don't share the sentiment is?? mind you, i am well aware of w0lfstar shippers sidelining or flanderizing james in their interpretations and have ranted about that too many times not that that's relevant here. just pointed out in case anyone misinterprets lol

ship anything man idc but saying w0lfstar has no canon support or to insinuate that w0lfstar shippers are shipper pilled (this made me laugh, what are you doing at the coven meeting friend?) is a bit ?? my point, if there is any, hypocrites piss me off or maybe its the lack of self-awareness? how to interpret the dynamics, character reactions in au, canon divergence, fiction is really all up to you. you can honestly remove remus and replace him with gilderoy lockhart in the marauders for all i care, its fictional. but you can't bring up canon and say something blatantly false to rag on shippers of a ship you don't like. that's just silly now. extremely condescending as well.

[spacedace]

Continuation of this post.

Okay, took a bit since I was kinda going through and slightly tidying things up/picking out the bits that had more humor in them since that was more the vibe of the last post and I figured that’s more of what peeps where interested in, but here be the snippets of the awkward post-surprise-wedding dinner between the Waynes and Nightingales!

I actually have more snippets of things that go down before/during/after these snippets if anyone would like to see those. They have things like Duke & Babs breaking into the Nightingale apartment to investigate, some BatPham family fluff, and Talia’s party crashing scene in anyone is interested

*

They really were trying, is the thing.

Tim feels like they should get credit for that, on whatever cosmic score board “meeting the in-laws-who-may-potentially-be-supervillains” is tracked on.

Damian offered the invitation to Elle and her family, Jason even - reluctantly - agreed to it, even if he wasn’t happy about them meeting at the Manor rather than somewhere that qualifies as neutral ground. The Nightingales accepted, a date and time set. It was happening.

Sure, Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - the woman that Jason had been dating for years and was about to have a baby with - was incredibly suspicious and potentially involved in the disappearance of at least three of Gotham’s regular rogues. 

And yeah, it turned out that the guy Dick had been flirting with off and on for years was her - older? Younger? What information they had was conflicting on where Dan fit in the sibling order, which was a thing - brother who kinda-maybe-definitely was running something illegal with his bar in Bludhaven as a cover. 

And yes, Damian had sorta-secretly married his best friend of many years - who likely wasn’t involved in anything shady but who was able to keep up with Damian in a scuffle and that kinda was a reg flag by itself if you thought about it for five seconds - completely without warning while the two had a very long history of not being interested at all in any kind of romantic relationships.

They were trying their best to put these very large, very red flags aside for one night for the sake of Damian and Jason’s insistence that the Nightingales weren’t a massive threat to Gotham at large or their family specifically.

Did Barbara go slightly out of her mind trying to figure out why any research into the family led her running in circles for hours on end, only for her one and only slight hint of a lead to result in her computer oozing a mysterious green substance that no amount of testing had been able to identify? 

Yeah, kinda.

Did Duke admit that he’d known that Elle was some kind of meta of unknown powers since he met her for the first time when she was twelve and didn’t tell anyone because he was pretty sure she didn’t even have any active powers, only to discover a year ago she did when Damian came home suddenly glowing like her and still didn’t say anything because Damian asked him not to? 

Sure.

Did they have a family meeting - minus Damian and Jason - discussing the possibility that the two were under the effects of some kind of mind control and that they were absolutely going to be using the dinner as a means of getting as much information out of the Nightingales as they could without tipping their hand as to their suspicions?

Yes. Without question. One hundred percent.

Were they still also doing their best to make things pleasant on the - extremely to the point of impossibility - small chance that their new in-laws weren’t incredibly dangerous villains but instead very normal civilians with weird luck?

Okay, Tim can admit, that one was up in the air.

Bruce had the security on the manor completely overhauled. They’d stashed weapons and meta-inhibiting cuffs around in case things turned violent. They set up contingency plans to try and prevent any kind of mind control. They’d put the Justice League on standby to have Martian Manhunter and a few others just in case none of their many contingency plans worked. Superman was covering patrol for the night and was going to keep a listening ear on them to call in the cavalry if it was needed.

But they were still at least trying, alright.

For example: Tim was trying very hard to not think about the fact that the years of slowly getting to know Danny - both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake - might have all been some long con on the Nightingales’ part to infiltrate the family even further than they already had. 

That Danny’s bright eyed ramblings about space as they sat on the roof of the guard shack at Gotham Cemetery squinting up past the light pollution to those brightest stars and sipping overly-strong coffee were fake. That the easy days of hanging out at cafes and arcades and museums learning about all of Danny’s little quirks  and sharing his own as his civilian identity could have been an act. That the sass and sarcasm and sweetness that Tim liked so much about his maybe-sorta boyfriend was a carefully calculated facade made just for Tim to fall for.

Tim was trying very hard, thank you very much.

Alfred suggested they all just try to get through dinner first.

Tim’s unsure where Alfred found such a sudden well of near-delusional optimism inside him, but he hopes that it isn’t an effect of Dr. Nightingale secretly brainwashing him too. He’s mostly sure the only Nightingale to ever come over to the Manor had been Elle, and he’s pretty sure Elle isn’t herself involved in whatever shady shit her family is maybe-probably into - kinda pretty sure…The hindsight on the fact that a totally normal girl should not be able to throw down with Dami on the regular without being horribly maimed or outright killed wasn’t doing her any favors. Nor was the surprise marriage.

Point was, Tim was pretty sure that getting through even a single meal in the state things were in was going to be an impossibly high bar to clear.

He was proven right when, five minutes after sitting down at the table, Talia showed up.

—

As far as first impressions go when it comes to meeting your clone/daughter/sister’s new platonic-husband’s family goes, pointing and shouting holy shit is that Hot Dumpster Guy? the moment the front door is opened is probably up there for one of Danny’s worst.

It’s taken a whole 1.2 seconds for Jazz to start facepalming. That’s gotta be a new record. She was going to kill him when they got home for sure. She’d spent the entire week - and the car ride - leading up to tonight talking about having manners and not starting fights and please these people are going to be family you cannot start shit the minute we get there, at least wait for after Elle and Damian’s first anniversary.

In Danny’s defense, it totally is Hot Dumpster Guy that Dan’s been driving them all nuts about with his pining for the past few months. 

It’s not his fault Dan never called him by his actual name. Or that the defining moment of their meeting for the first time was Dan fishing the dude out of the dumpster behind his speakeasy after the guy girlbossed a little too close to the sun while trying to be the Tony Hawk of parkour. And Jason and Damian were in the family chat, they could have mentioned that the guy was their brother at some point after one the many - many - times Dan spammed them pictures of the dude doing acrobat bullshit and wailing about how hot and funny Hot Dumpster Guy was. Hell, Elle could have mentioned it at literally any time and wasn’t she the one that coined the name Hot Dumpster Guy to begin with when this all started?

Based on the delighted grins on Jay and Elle’s faces and the fact that he can feel Damian’s smug amusement echoing out from not that far away inside, the three had been hoping for something like this. Because of course they had, his Grave is nothing but a bunch of chaotic menaces at the end of the day, himself included.

Dan, bright red and utterly mortified, uses his place towering behind Elle as a cover to kick Danny in the ankle as hard as he can without sending him dropping to the ground outright. He can feel his alternate-universe-future-self/son/brother’s rising homicidal rage. Totally worth the mortified look of shock and horror he’s wearing though. It’s what he deserves after all the years of making fun of him over the Red Robin/Tim Drake stuff.

“Hot dumpster guy?” The Hot Dumpster Guy in question sputtered, looking like he didn’t know who to turn his bewildered and betrayed look on first.

Elle makes it easy on him, for the first and most likely last time in his unlife.

“Dan sent us the CCTV camera of your spectacular landing when you guys first met.” She said with a grin that was probably just a touch too sharp to be totally human, shoving her way past him with as much manners as a feral badger - Ancients, they really were fighting an uphill battle trying to convince Damian and Jay’s rich ass family that they were a nice and normal bunch. “I saved the scream you made when the rat crawled down your shirt as my ringtone for you.” She added, waving her phone back at him, and yeah her teeth were definitely too sharp for normal humans, Danny was going to have to try and pull her aside before Hot Dumpster Guy or any of the rest of the family noticed.

“One night, I asked for one night.” Jazz muttered forlornly into her hand. Jay gave her a reassuring pat because he was a good partner and a shit eating grin to Hot Dumpster Guy because he was an equally good asshole little brother.

Yeah, Danny thought as Hot Dumpster Guy floundered his way through trying to introducing himself after that shit show, one night was probably setting the bar a little too high there.

—

Introductions did not get better.

Dick could admit that probably was because Damian and Elle had decided to take it upon themselves to lead the charge on that after the two had all but  physically drug everyone into the most comfortable living room. 

The plan had been for Dick to bring them to one of their more…formal sitting rooms. Namely the one that could with the press of a button turn into a nearly inescapable prison if things got ugly. No windows, one entrance, walls and doors reinforced enough to slow even Supes down in smashing through. The works. Damian had either sussed out what his family was up to and was circumventing it, or Elle - as part of the house as the rest of them after all these years - had simply not even considered that the Wayne family would bring them anywhere else. Dick hoped desperately that it was the latter.

Then they started introducing everyone to each other.

“That’s my latest blorbo.”

“This is Nightingale.”

“That’s some scunkly guy.”

“And this is Nightingale.”

“Over there is the world’s worst pathetic meow meow.”

“On Nightingale’s other side is Nightingale.”

“Those two over there are Failed Tumblr Sexyman and Spider Georg.”

“You know Todd.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that Babs found and confirmed their signed and certified marriage certificate, he’d suspect the two of making the whole thing up just as an excuse to cause maximum amount of chaos for their respective families.

“Hey, Hot Dumpster Guy, where's everyone else?” 

Actually, nevermind, Dick doesn’t put it past them to have actually gotten married to sell the bit.

—

When Bruce had asked him for help with his meeting the in-laws/sting operation, Clark had been expecting - based on the situation as explained to him - that he would be listening in on the kind of cat and mouse verbal chess games that so often occurred when Batman was facing off against subtler foes. To be waiting for any sign - however subtle - that backup was needed, tense and on edge all night as he swept up as much crime as he could while the Bats and Birds were busy.

He had not expected to be listening to the single most awkward small talk he’s ever heard in his life. The second hand embarrassment of it all felt as devastating as any kryptonite he’d ever encountered.

Similarly unexpected had been the sudden turn the moment Duke and Barbara - late by virtue of snooping through the Nightingales’ respective homes for evidence, a venture that had really just made everyone involved feel uncomfortable from what Clark could hear  - had arrived. It seemed that the presence of all the Bat’s brood had been required for the trap that was set off the moment the two joined the group.

The utter devastation laid down upon both Nightingales and Waynes by the newlyweds as they unleashed utter chaos on their new shared families in the form of what must have been years of carefully curated blackmail. There was a slideshow. And a movie. And so many embarrassing stories about all of them. 

Clark may have started texting Diana the second Elle and Damian Wayne al Ghul Nightingale - they had decided to just…keep all their combined last names, apparently rather than choose just one - made it clear what they had planned for the pre-dinner entertainment for the night.

There may have also been plans to get the Wayne al Ghul Nightingales to share their beautiful collection with Damian’s dear Uncle Clark.

*

Tag time: @screamingtofillthevoid @stargirl1331 @mnemovoid @malice-of-the-sunrise @bathildaburp @autumnwulf @revnantdpxdclover @coruscateselene @writer-extraodinaire @idfk-man10 @fluffen-spooky @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @unadulteratedsoulsweets @phoenixdemonqueen @overlycaffeinatedsuperwholockfan @gin2212 @emotional-otter @lexdamo @dixiwoods @wildbacon @ashleysmshly @that-random-fangirl @satanicrutialspecialist @lazy-bouqet @treepainting

I think that’s everyone haha, hope you guys enjoy!

[olderthannetfic]

fandom social justice history anon here - aaah, thank you, early fandom being dominated by academics definitely connected the dots I was missing, thank you! Yeah, now looking at it with this in mind, it's pretty obvious how the tone of the meta essays from that era, while often snarky or even outraged, definitely sounds more like the tone of people who are used to passionately arguing in a setting that doesn't allow you to just throw whatever ad hominem accusation at your opponent's head. In contrast, tumblr's (and as a result, twitter's and tiktok's) style of fandom drama now reads to me even more blatantly like a catfight between high schoolers who have just recently learned some Big Words they only care to use as ammunition. I've read multiple older fans (including your invaluably informative blog) talking about how tumblr definitely reshaped fandom and brought in a TON of new people, and how slash was far from the "mainstream" of fandom even in the livejournal-ffn.net days, and I'm having a feeling that, for all the imperfections of this first tumblr generation of fans' activism ("let my gays marry" etc etc) the thing that got slash to be "mainstreamed" within fandom the way it currently is, also has to do with this pretty sizeable influx of new fans being mostly teenagers. As in specifically, overwhelmingly teenage girls who were having their first sparks of interest in romance during the height of the "I'm not like other girls" era + everyone shitting on twilight & "girly" musicians, because if you look at the posts from that period, they often contrast being a slash reader with being the slutty partying "other girl" or annoying hipster & at my school too slash kind of spread as a "not like the other girls" alternative to mainstream romance. Yes, not the healthiest attitude either, and it's good we've mostly grown past that, but like I said, there's a good chance that was what buffed up the numbers of slash fans to the point where today people are surprised fandom ever even was hostile to it, and at least in my environment, fandom activism, for all its flaws, was most people's first exposure to any sort of "-rights" activism at all. But (as is probably obvious) I did not experience most of even that era personally (I joined tumblr fandom in 2014). Anyways, excuse the rambling, if you feel like adding anything to confirm or deny my hypothesis, I greatly appreciate it, and I hope you have a nice day/evening!

--

M/M still isn't mainstream in plenty of fandom contexts, just not the ones I hang out in, and "not like the other girls" of the type you describe was already big in the 90s among people who'd heard of fanfic. It's just that fanfic was harder to stumble across overall.

I think the two biggest factors are the changing attitudes towards gayness in mainstream culture in a number of countries and... well... AO3 getting popular.

FFN was the big place in the past, though not for my crowd. Now, AO3 is taking a massive bite out of not only its market share but now, in the last few years, Wattpad's.

When the visible institution around which fanfic revolves puts filtering out het front and center, it sends a strong message that previous fandom platforms did not. You had your m/m-only archives and your f/f-only archives and your places that let you filter for those but that treated het as an unmarked default.

Look at early discussions of AO3. There's an undercurrent there that we all assumed it would be one of a number of archives and that we didn't expect it to get this big.

Nobody could have foreseen the Het-Is-Eternal-Default Wattpad crowd being forced by their own platform's suckitude to come camp on the thing built by slashers. Now, we are the admins and they are the also-tolerated. That never happened before.

The thing that makes people not report gay hand holding as evil porn that must be eradicated is simply AO3 putting its foot down.

Anyone who thinks that virulent slash hate is gone just hasn't looked at other spaces.

This is not about individual fans behaving better: it is about institutional power.

[drdemonprince]

Since autistic traits are human traits (as in "all of these are found to a greater or lesser degree in different people"), I've rolled around in my head whether some of the "black and white thinking", "systematizing", "rigidity" overlaps with our frequent interest in patterns, our OCD traits, routines, etc.

That is, I wonder if some of that is the "normal" human trait of pattern-seeking/pattern-matching, but expressing either more intensely or (as I kind of think) with less of a *filter* (perhaps a filter for relevance?) than most people get.

So some of us can sometimes make some true and interesting and even groundbreaking connections between things, but not all the patterns or connections we see are relevant or accurate.

Like the "attention to detail" thing where it often means we can't filter out the irrelevant details, we'll perceive details and connections that might not actually be connected. Which could also predispose us to cults, conspiracy theories, etc.

I also think about that stuff as possibly contributing to some of my old phobias and some of my trauma/BPD traits - "I have been hurt before in situations that looked a lot like this, therefore I need to be vigilant and protect myself (even if the actual circumstances of this situation are very different, e.g. I'm now with someone who *isn't* hurting me, or my health isn't *actually* in danger)"

Anyway. Just some thoughts. I think it all ties together into our tendency toward anxiety, our nearly universal histories of trauma, etc. so it's never just one thing.

Yep, there is no objective metric of what is OCD, what is Autism, what is BPD, etc -- and between all of those categories and just being a human.

On the whole, Autistic people tend to skew toward being highly detail oriented, and that detail-oriented style of processing is highly overwhelming and effortful -- it takes more energy than focusing on the "forest," and the ways that we systematize and streamline the knowledge we have of the "trees" can be prone to error, overcorrection, bias, etc just as much as being a big picture thinker can be prone to missing a lot of stimuli. They miss stimuli because that is the point of their processing style -- to be more effecient. And we see all kinds of things that make people assume we are crazy or oversensitive because, well, that's how a more detail-oriented processing style works by definition -- you pick up things that other's don't.

That doesn't mean we are objective. We also miss lots of cues in one direction because we are so intently focused on processing everything that's in another. I am terrible at recognizing people in public because i just can't look at faces for the most part when i'm in a crowd. i cant often tell how people are feeling. yet i can pick up on a subtle conversational tension between two people sometimes that no one else even saw. i dont know exactly what makes that happen, but it is also the same mechanism that makes me create elaborate evidence for why a person MUST be mad at me when they aren't at all.

so yeah, needless to say i relate to how you think about this! the processing style we are talking about is inherently pretty paradoxical in nature. always noticing. always missing things. always reading too much into the wrong things, always reading too little into the right ones, a superpower, a burden, a completely neutral source of random error that sometimes hits and sometimes misses, a paranoia, an oblivoiusness, all in one

[rapha-reads]

To those of you wondering (aka no one), I finished both The Vampire Armand and Merrick and I have a lot of thoughts and feels. I'm skipping Blood and Gold for now to go directly to Blackwood Farm (I'll read B&G later), but first I'm going to read something else, just to take a break.

TVA thoughts: man, Armand is messed up. And extremely compelling. But so messed up. As always, the theme of faith crisis, which seriously reaches new heights with these bitchy vampires, is not something I can fully immerse myself in, but it was fascinating to see his numerous metamorphosis. I liked how he bridges Western and Eastern Christianisme, especially through art. Now I'm thinking that if Rolin Jones makes him originally Muslim in the show, that could expand even more the conversation on how faith, and especially Abrahamic faith, has been in conversation for thousands of years and could be such a rich, diverse and spiritual, intellectual and artistic theme. I can already imagine some fascinating discussions comparing (not in a superior way but in a complementary way) coming from Muslim faith to Roman Catholic faith, the way book!Armand talks about the richness of his life in Kiev Rus despite the poverty and ascetism, and the richness of his life in Venecia despite the luxury and abundance.

As for Benamin and Sybille... I don't have much thoughts about them. Sybille is one of those female characters AR seemingly favors, not so much human as a nymph or a dryad, "perfectly splendid". And Benji is a caricature of an Arab child. Nuance? 401 not found.

Merrick thoughts: David for the love if everything, shut. The. Fuck. Up. Holy moly. I like David, I do, but damn the entire recollection of his history with Merrick was looooooong. I'm here to see Louis haunted by Claudia and haunting Lestat's coma, not how hard you're pining for the kid you practically raised! Also. ALSO. You're just going to leave that whole thing with the Olmec or possibly another more ancient Mesoamerican civilisation without ever giving us more? That was the most interesting part of it all! The vodoo history, the connection between Louisiana and Caribbean vodoo and old Native South-American religions! More about this, less about Merrick's perfect breasts, I am begging you. (It is at this point that the reader of this post realises OP is 100% definitely ace and more interested in books and witchcraft than breasts and whether a 70yo man can still get it up - also, hey, Anne Rice's vampires are practically asexual and their lust and pleasure is mostly derivated from blood, with some notable exceptions like Armand and Marius, and a love relationship between two vampires is then based on romantic love and blood sharing, so can I hear a hell yeah for some ace representation or are we still conflating eroticism with sex)

Another thing I kept thinking about throughout the book is how Louis is perceived by his fellow vampires. Since basically the second book, since we've lost his own POV, everybody who's ever said anything about him (so Lestat, Armand and David) have insisted on two points: how very weak and meek Louis is, and also how irresistible, beautiful and charming. Granted, I've known Louis first through his portrayal on the show (hi Jacob you're so fiiiiiiine), and then through his own narration in the first book, but I've never had the impression that he was weak. Beautiful and seductive, yes. Weak? I see a human man going through tragedies and still enduring, going through vampiric transformation and then suffering for decades the loss of his humanity, struggling with reconciliating both sides of himself, but mostly I see a vampire who rebuilt himself after losing everything without sacrificing his sense of self. I see Louis as very strong actually (up to the point where resilience breaks, because resilience cannot be sustained on a long term, but that's another debate). He knows who he is, and don't you know how hard that is? He doesn't cling to faith or pride. He knows he's doomed, he knows he's monstrous, he knows there's nothing he can do to change that, and instead of railing against his fate, he goes on about his undead life. He gets his books and he reads them, he surrounds himself with literature and what little comforts he thinks in his shattered self-esteem he deserves (his ragged sweaters and soft trousers); let's not lie to ourselves tho, Louis doesn't like himself, or more exactly he doesn't care about his corporeal body - what matters to him is his mind, and once again, this author is extremely ace and also very aro and very nonbinary, so Louis to me is very much ace and agender coded, though really not aro, because his love for Lestat (and sometimes his fondness, shall we say, for Armand) is the only thing that can rouse him up from his literary slumber.

...

Oh, man, I have a lot to say about Louis, for how little he appears in the books so far. Still have BF, BC and the PL trilogy to devour. So I guess you can say, for as much as Lestat is occupying my entire brain, very much like him, my favorite is Louis? Yeah, that tracks. Melancholy, quiet, dark-haired green-eyed monster with more humanity than humans, preferring his solitude and the company of books to anyone else, hopelessly and helplessly devoted to one person, expert in brooding and grieving, literature specialist, not very attached to his physical self. Yeah. I'm not surprised.

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts:

For two seasons and a TV movie, creator Michael Lannan and director Andrew Haigh (who was just coming off his breakthrough film Weekend and was years away from the award-winning 45 Years and All of Us Strangers) led the show’s cast and crew in crafting a new kind of gay TV show—raw, relaxed, character-driven and intimate. It didn’t fully work—in the end, Looking was cancelled due to low ratings—but a decade away from the show’s premiere, it’s clear that the show’s legacy lives on.

Onscreen, the cast of Looking—including stars-to-be like Jonathan Groff and Murray Bartlett—played characters who were working to find themselves while creating a chosen family with each other. Offscreen, the actors were doing the same thing, reckoning with their own identities and finding family in each other.

For the lead role of Patrick, the production looked at Jonathan Groff, the Tony-nominated Broadway star of Spring Awakening, who’d recently made the jump to TV with a splashy role on Ryan Murphy’s hit musical series Glee.

Haigh: I actually quite liked Glee. I thought it was a good show, but I wasn't sure he was going to be right. Then he came in, and I'm like, “Yeah, you're great for this.”

Sarah Condon (executive producer): Jonathan just had all these qualities of vulnerability and also an amazing ability, which to me is very similar in some ways to Sarah Jessica Parker, of doing the comedy and drama together—not a lot of actors actually, can do both so well and flip back and forth between. He is one of those people.

Jonathan Groff (Patrick): I came out of the closet later—I came out publicly at 23, came out to my parents that same year too. I was out but I was, in a big way, not fully accepting myself. I came out of the closet because it felt more painful to be in than out at that point, but I didn't really feel myself own who I was until I had had the experience of Looking.

I remember auditioning for the show, and feeling heat on my skin during the audition. It was the scene with Patrick and Richie on the train, doing this flirtatious scene, and I remember my skin feeling hot, and it feeling scary and exciting at the same time. I felt raw and exposed in a way that I had never felt before. So there was a real vulnerability in that, that made me feel nervous and excited.

Carmen Cuba (casting director): Jonathan Groff was out, but he hadn't played a gay character before. And more than anyone, he was the most experienced on the show, even Andrew. So he definitely must have understood more than any of us, the fact that playing the role is one thing but he was then going to be in press talking about it. It's a different thing you're agreeing to, I assume.

Groff: I remember Murray, Frankie, and I showing up to San Francisco during pre-production in March of 2013—I mean, this is 10 years ago. I remember the month. I remember Murray making us dinner, and me and Frankie going over there, and smoking weed and smelling the jasmine in the backyard of Murray's sublet that he had gotten. I remember Frankie was freaking out, because he had graduated from Juilliard and is this brilliant actor, but had never done anything on screen before, and so we were talking about that. I mean, just immediately, we knew we had to have this believable friendship in order for the show to work. And so we just started hanging out and we never stopped.

Groff quickly developed chemistry with Castillo, one of his onscreen love interests. While Castillo’s Richie was initially meant to be a minor character, the team later made the decision to make him part of the main cast.

Castillo: I remember standing on the platform in between takes with Jonathan [for our first scene together]. I remember our chemistry was developing and we were hitting it off, and I didn't want to ruin that but I also wanted to open up to him and be honest with him. I decided to tell him the story about meeting my now-wife, who at the time was my girlfriend. When she and I had met, there was an undeniable chemistry between us, like the minute we laid eyes on each other, it was just like there was this attraction. We were the only two people in the room in a room full of people. I wanted to tell Jonathan that story because I was relating it to Patrick and Richie meeting.

I was revealing to him that I was straight and he didn't bat a lash. He took it in, he listened and yeah, it was funny, because it was almost like a coming out.

Groff: I knew that he was straight, because I had asked our director or costume designer. I had gotten the intel already. It wasn't a shock. “That guy's cute. Is he gay?” [Laughs]

Condon: I mean, it sounds silly, in a way, but they were brave decisions. I remember having to have that conversation with Jonathan. “Are you up for this?” There were a lot of those kind of conversations. And Jonathan was so game, as was the whole cast.

Groff: I remember the premiere was at The Castro, and I remember feeling like I was in a fairy tale. The Castro, the audience is lit as fuck, and it's a lot of gays. They are there to celebrate, which is just such a special, unique energy at a premiere of any sort.

Michael Lombardo and Richard Plepler were running HBO at that time. I remember being at that premiere and Michael was standing there, talking about, “This is the first exclusively gay show we've ever had on our network.” It felt like, “Oh my God— we're in this. We're a part of this moment in history.” It felt like more than a TV show. It felt like a big deal when he would say that.

Despite its mixed initial reception and its relative underperformance, the show made stars out of the main cast—especially Jonathan Groff.

Groff: Between the first and second season in New York, they had asked me to be the grand marshal of the Gay Pride Parade—because of the TV show, and because I'm a New Yorker and had done a lot of theater. I felt scared to do it. I said yes, because my head and my heart were telling me that I wanted to do it, but there was a huge part of me that felt incredibly fearful, incredibly insecure, and incredibly scared. I did it anyway, and that was also a ring of fire moment. Doing the Gay Pride parade, being on the front, waving at people, and being so visibly out—it was just a constant experience of being, in a great way, pushed outside of my comfort zone.

Alvarez: He was coming off of this breakup and he's meeting somebody new and he's encountering all these feelings of being out in public and what his image represents to other people. And so you're swirling with all these other things, and also you're like, just a man trying to love other men.

Groff: I remember, oh my God, talking about douching [in a scene on the show], and I had never really douched before, as myself. Frankie Alvarez came with me. What we did in the show, where we go to the Walgreens? We actually did [that] in the West Village in real life, where he walked with me to get a fucking anal douche, and also a dildo to experiment with. He was in the gay sex shop with me, doing that in real life.

Alvarez: It was a moment of vulnerability, where he wanted to go dildo shopping, but he didn't want to be alone. He could have called any number of his gay friends, but he called me. And it was a testament to our friendship that he trusted me, that even though I was straight, he understood that he had a supportive friend there through that time. I was Doris.

As the series continued, the team looked to their cast for inspiration, sometimes borrowing elements of their personal lives and using them in storylines.

Groff: I remember sitting in a diner in San Francisco with Andrew and talking him through my most recent breakup as he was writing the big, final episode of season two and the fight between Kevin and Patrick—literally, me recounting and him writing down things that I said, that we said to each other, to get that in there. Everybody was offering up their own stories the whole time. It was incredible.

Weedman: The one thing I remember was, before we did the scene where I go see my dad's dead body, the three of us were sitting in this real funeral home and we're just talking about different times in our lives we'd seen a dead body and what that's like. I had just seen my friend Christopher's body and Jonathan had been through Cory Monteith’s [death]. We were telling all these stories that were just very intense.

And then I remember after we shot the scene, that Murray came to my trailer and just walked in, and we both just cried and cried and cried. And that's pretty rare, that actors aren't just on the phone, working out their next job, figuring out how they're going to renovate their house, how they're going to spend their money—they're not jerking off their ego in some way or some kind of “building their empire.” That wasn't going on—these were just sensitive boys.

In the aftermath of Looking, the cast and crew found themselves permanently changed. The experience of making the series affected everything, from their career decisions to their everyday lives.

Groff: It brought me out of my own skin in a way that I don’t know if I would’ve otherwise. And every set I walked onto after that, every rehearsal room I walked onto after that, I didn't feel insecure about my sexuality. Looking and the experience of being on that set with all those people was so liberating, and really, truly life-changing.

Condon: We've done about a yearly reunion.

Bartlett: Raul got married last year and a bunch of us were able to go—it was sort of a Looking reunion really. It was like, “Oh my God, this is our 10-year reunion.” And it was about Raul's wedding, but it was also a bunch of old friends getting back together and a lot of us from Looking days.

Castillo: Jonathan married [my wife and I] this summer so it's like a full circle.

Groff: That girl that he was talking about [while shooting the pilot] ended up being his wife.

Ten years later, many of the actors who starred in Looking have become bonafide stars. Jonathan Groff has appeared in generational projects on stage and screen, from Hamilton to Mindhunter to Frozen. Russell Tovey has appeared in shows like Quantico, American Horror Story: NYC and the upcoming Feud: Capote Vs. the Swans. O.T. Fagbenle, who had a minor role in season one as Agustin’s boyfriend, has gone on to do shows like The Handmaid’s Tale and appeared in the blockbuster Black Widow. And of course Murray Bartlett continues to be a staple of prestige TV, starring in The Last of Us and The White Lotus, which he won an Emmy for.

Groff: Even if the show didn't hit the way that we all wish it would have, it still affected people, including us, and it looks like that is the art that stays. I mean, I'm on Merrily We Roll Along right now. Forty-two years ago, it was a Broadway flop, and it's such an extraordinary show. People are finally, including me, getting to experience it for the brilliant thing that it is. And so that's encouraging, moving forward, that even though it might not be celebrated in the moment [it might have a moment later on].

Groff: I mean, ultimately, not enough people watched it, and we went off the air—that's just the story of what happened with the show. But the fact that it only lasted for two seasons and a movie, and 10 years later, we're still talking about it, there's something about the staying power of the show, and the people that continue, a decade later, to talk about the impact that it has had on them. It sort of helps heal those wounds of feeling rejected.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Riri finding out you're a vampire

Riri always swore she'd never be that girl. She was way too bad and confident to be driving herself crazy wondering. If another chick who technically wasn't even really hers was seeing other people behind her back. Even if the unspoken relationship between the two of you were the real deal. Yeah neither of you brought up having that crucial conversation to properly define the relationship. But she knew the second when her lips met yours under a starry night sky. Just a few months ago after you had managed to chase and pin her down under your own body for some stupid comment she made. She knew when the fireworks went off in her head, and her entire body came to life with emotions rampaging everywhere. Till the point where for the first time in her life her brain shutdown on her, and she couldn't form even the simplest of ideas.

She knew right then her days of entertaining other girls were over. No more would her eyes linger too long whenever another pretty girl caught her eyes. No more would her eyes even be wondering in search of those pretty girls hoping to catch her eye. You were it for her now. And naturally she assumed you'd felt the same way considering your reputation on campus had been just as bad as hers. If not worse because while Riri was known to be a huge flirt. You were infamous for being a heartbreaker, but after that kiss Riri hoped she'd be the exception.

At the same time though it didn't matter how you felt about her or not. She didn't care if she misread just how deep your connection with her ran. If you were still entertaining other girls then it wouldn't faze her not even a little bit. Nope Riri Williams was not and will never be that girl.

Her reasons for hovering outside of Violet Elise's dorm room for the past five minutes had. Nothing to do with the rumors circulating around campus about you coming here everyday at four p.m for. a secret rendezvous. Riri shared a history class with the girl and just needed to borrow her notes from Tuesday's lesson. She missed the class doing Ironheart stuff. If you were in there right now then it wouldn't make a difference to her. She definitely wasn't going to storm out in tears.

"Come on Riri mama didn't raise no punk." Riri muttered to herself staring at the door just two steps away from her. She took those two steps with confidence raising her hand to knock.

"Uhhhhhhh y/n"

Her hand froze in midair just an inch away from the door. Riri stopped the second she heard the moan, and then the undeniable sound of Violet saying your name. Her heart clenched in her chest with her grip on her backpack strap tightening. Riri took in deep breaths exhaling slow in an effort to calm herself down. Instead of hurt she felt nothing but pure betrayal that fueled her anger.

You literally told her two nights ago that she was the only one. While whispering other sweet nothings in her ear making her shiver in your arms. Causing her to feel things she never felt for another person, but heartbreakers were good at that. Saying all the right things to make a person fall for them all while to them it was just a game. She was nothing but a plaything to you while you had been her whole world.

Riri didn't think about her next move, or hesitate she just grabbed the doorknob twisting it to see. If the two of you had even bothered to lock the door, or were you too caught up in each other's embrace. The doorknob went all the way around, and then Riri was barging into the dorm room with your name on her lips.

She spoke with so much venom it was a miracle you didn't drop dead, but then her eyes found the two of you curled up on the loveseat pushed into the corner of the right side of the room. Neither of you were aware of her presence and she wished you had some type of warning of her arrival. Because then maybe Riri would've been spared the horrific sight before her. That was now making her blood run cold, and her heart beat a little too fast.

Violet was settled in your lap with one of arms secured around her waist keeping her swaying form steady. Your other hand curled around both of her legs. Her head leaning to the side giving you a better angle with your face buried into her neck. Her eyes were shut tight every now and then blinking open with a hazy look in them. The main problem was you weren't pleasuring her with neck kisses. Instead it looked more like you had sunk your teeth into her neck, and was literally drinking her blood.

Riri wanted to remain in denial about what she was witnessing, but the sound of you taking in large gulps of the bodily liquid gave the truth away. You were drinking her blood with a hunger and desperation of. A human stranded in a desert for days without a source of water. Then there was the small trail of dark red blood trickling down her neck into her chest.

Riri searched for a reasonable explanation for what she was seeing right now, but avoided the most obvious one. Instead she decided this was some weird kink of yours. Back when her and Natalie were going through there vampire-werewolf obsession. Consuming shows like The Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer in a matter of a week or two. Then there was the Twilight movie marathons on repeat. She read an article about people who were so messed up in the head believing they were actual real vampires. Going so far as to having their teeth shaped into fangs, and drinking human blood. That what this was you were one of those freaks, and Violet must have been into this kind of stuff.

You had enough common sense to know Riri would never go for this, so you found someone on campus who did. Y'all probably found each other on some fetish website like this, and realized through daily chatting. The two of you were in the same vicinity of each other.

Yep that's exactly what this was.

"Y-Y/N"

So why did she stutter through a broken voice when she tried to say your name again with fear finding its way in.

This time she capture Violet’s attention whose eyes opened pulling herself out of the trance. You had her in the dark-haired girl with purple streaks searched the room till she found Riri standing by the door. Her backpack on the floor by her feet with her books spilling out. One hand was still on the doorknob while the other one remained by her side quaking with terror along with the rest of her body. Her eyes widened as she stared at the two of you unable to look away.

"Oh crap y/n stop ahh" Violet tried to protest wincing when you bit down a bit harder. You were halfway full and she knew whenever you got like this. It was almost impossible to get you to stop making her fool for even trying. She still tried again shoving at your shoulder. "Its Riri stop she's here."

If the urgency in her voice register in your head then the name did because you ripped yourself away from her neck. A little too fast and rough your fangs grazing her neck enough to leave two small cuts behind. You muttered a quick apology, but Violet barely noticed climbing off your lap. It wasn't the first time.

"Riri hey I need you to calm down alright" You said in a gentle voice. Seeing the absolute fearful expression she was sporting along with a few tears building up in her eyes. The young girl was terrified of you.

"Come here and just let me explain." You coaxed her softly reaching out a hand towards while slowing getting up from the sofa. Not even making it one step before she tore out of the room her legs carrying down the hallway with newfound speed.

You heard her hyperventilating all the way across campus not stopping till she reached. Her own dorm room slamming the door behind her where Riri proceeded to slid down against the door sinking to the floor. That's when the sobbing started and you couldn't take it anymore.

You stopped listening falling back into the soft cushions with your head in your hands.

"Y/N" Violet called out your name. "Hey its okay we can fix this. You can compel her" she reminded you.

You shook your head still trying to process that the love of your life knew your biggest and darkest secret. A secret no human was supposed to know. A secret you promised your father you'd protect if he let you come to this human school.

A secret that could get her killed if you didn't come up with a plan. But for now you were too busy nursing a broken heart too think about all that. The image of Riri Williams crying at your true nature embedded in your mind forever.

So this is what heartbreak felt like.

Tag List: @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @justariellove @greek-freak101 @mbakuetshurisprincess @deliciousfestsalad @rhayanm @tchhairbandhere @ajawasblog @chaz-tish @6-noir @ilacknames @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed

[pynkhues]

https://x.com/lestatdelioncat/status/1858608673855336516?t=KsAra9iHb3aUiMDx21TF2w&s=19 I dont understand what Jacob meant by this and I definitely would argue that Louis isn't the most vampire but that Claudia is

Mmm, yeah. My interpretation of what Jacob’s saying there is that Louis has an enormous capacity for self-indulgence, and its because he has that, that he has to restrain himself so fully. That makes sense to me, I think we see that in 2.05 in particular between all the boys and the drugs, but I think we also see it in how he bottles things up until they explode out of him and he does things like murder the Alderman Fenwick in a pretty gory and performative way, and, y’know, swims the Mississippi to get at Lestat (in more ways than one!)

Does that make him more vampiric? I don’t know if I think that does, but it begs the question of what you think determines a vampire’s core characteristics? It’s an ever-evolving archetype, and has definitely gone through a lot of iterations in the last twenty years in particular, but I think if you’re looking at the origins in traditional gothic literature, Louis is in many ways the quintessential vampire.

So! Let's have a look at that.

The origins of the vampire

The concept of a vampire in literature was actually created in the same summer retreat that Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in, which is a delightful little slice of history. You can read more about it here if you’re interested, but the nuts and bolts of it is that a freshly-divorced Lord Byron, his doctor, Dr. Polidori, as well as Percy and Mary Shelly, and Mary’s stepsister, Claire Clairmont (who was pregnant with Byron’s child, a child he really didn’t want), went on a summer retreat to Switzerland together, and basically just spent months reading each other ghost stories which ultimately culminated in Byron suggesting they have a competition to see who could write the best one.

Hilariously, none of them really wrote a ghost story – Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein, and Byron actually wrote two things, although he only finished one – a poem called The Darkness which is effectively a dystopian poem about the end of the world – and his unfinished project was a novel about a dying man who swears he’ll be resurrected to visit his friend after he dies.

It's this that’s actually taken up by Byron’s doctor, Dr. Polidori, who turns it into the 1819 short story, The Vampyre, with the lead character being heavily based on Byron himself.

In Polidori’s story, it features a man, Aubrey, observing his rich, sexy male friend, Lord Ruthven, who has superhuman strength and can’t be killed by bullets, and who seems to keep seducing women important to Aubrey right before they mysteriously die. Basically Aubrey slowly realizes through mounting dread that Lord Ruthven survives by drinking the blood of innocent women.

I’ve talked a lot about the Byronic Hero (and how I think Louis embodies the trope), so I won’t go too much into it here, but my point is that the original concept of a vampire is inherently built on those romantic ideas of class and wealth (which is important for reasons I’ll get into shortly), sophistication and intelligence, hiding in plain sight and seduction, and is generally understood to have queer subtext which many read into the relationship between Aubrey and Lord Ruthven (Ruthven literally seduces and murders Aubrey’s lover and his sister, isolating him to his companionship). He’s also inherently Byronic, being first started by him, and later based on him – Byron truly isthe I-don’t-know-if-I-want-to-be-him-or-be-with-him guy of literary history, haha.

Building on the origins and evolving the metaphor

It was the late 1800s though when some of the most genre-defining stories were published. The two biggest being Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s Carmilla (1871) and, of course, Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897). The genre had evolved already at this point, but the archetype actually didn’t change all that much. In fact, the vampire as someone who is rich, predatory and seductive became character traits that became metaphors in and of themselves, namely as a class metaphor. This was started with Lord Ruthven in The Vampyre, but it’s really expanded here, particularly in Dracula, who’s understood in the context of the 1890s to represent the solitary nature of monopoly capital that sucks the life from the labouring classes. He hoards his wealth through land and gold, and preys on the working class.

There’s been a lot written on this, so I won’t labour the point, but the understanding of vampires as symbols of aristocracy and capitalism has always existed, and I know that we joke about Louis being the first vampire capitalist, but it’s actually not true. Capitalism has always been a vital part of the genre, because class has always been a central tenet of classic gothic fiction, for better and for worse.

Wealth and class is also central to Carmilla. It’s set in the 1800s in Austria while the wealth gap between the rich and poor is increasing, and Carmilla comes from an aristocratic, old money family. She benefits from being rich, and she uses her social power as a rich aristocrat in order to seduce and prey on people in the lower classes. Again, the entwining of wealth and class is really prevalent, but interestingly too, Carmilla’s the most explicitly queer of all of these early vampire stories, with the lesbian relationship woven through it effectively textual, but Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu also posits two means of being turned into a vampire, which is kind of uniquely interesting to me.

One is the way we know – vampires turn vampires, but the second is that vampires are people who’ve been rejected by God, whether due to suicide, as explicitly stated in the book, or excommunication from the church for a sinful life. While this hasn’t literally carried forward much in the genre, I do actually think its still there. The elements of sin and quote-unquote ‘corruption’ are still threaded through most vampire fiction even today, and while hedonism is more common in modern vampires, there are elements of misery that feel pervasive. The idea that vampires are born either through being turned, corrupted or dying by their own hand is just one that I find really interesting, and I think also speaks a bit to elements of the Byronic Hero that the vampire is inherently steeped in as an archetype.

…And evolving some more

It was actually Anne’s books in the 70s that relaunched vampires into the stratosphere popularity-wise, and they did evolve in theme and metaphor as a result. Vampires are understood to be manifestations of current anxieties, which yes, in the 1800s was the rise of monopolistic capitalism, female sexuality and homosexuality, and in the 70s through 80s became metaphors for anxieties around STIs, the AIDS crisis, and addiction in particular, but these themes of class and misery never left the genre.

That said, the Vampire as an archetype in and of itself was also informed in this period really by the Milton’s Satan archetype which has gone on to form the modern concept of the anti-hero. I talked a lot about the Milton’s Satan archetype here in terms of Lestat, but the important thing to note is that it holds to the idea of a protagonist as a fallen angel who becomes a hero-villain, hedonistic, vain, proud and horribly, terribly human.

So, do I think Louis’ the most vampiric of the vampires?

Yeah, actually. In a lot of ways, Louis marries all the foundations of the traditional vampire. He’s as wealthy, intelligent, and seductive as Lord Ruthven was, but he really feeds into the late 1800s vampire as a symbol of the parasitic nature of monopolistic capitalism and landed wealth. He chooses to be solitary and rejects community, he’s using women’s bodies to keep his family in wealth, he’s hoarding and commodifying art and wishing death on artists to increase profit, he’s gentrifying San Francisco, he’s turned in a church on a night he likely would’ve commit suicide, tying back into Le Fanu’s idea of alternate ways of vampires being turned, hell, he’s even doing drugs with addicts in the sprawl of the seventies, using his social power over Daniel by flaunting his wealth to get him into a room with him.

And he’s a Byronic Hero. So he’s miserable while he does it, haha.

That joy in the hunt that Claudia has to me is more like Lestat’s, which I do think as I said in the Milton’s Satan / Fallen Angel archetype post is more tied up in the demonic than the vampiric, traditionally speaking. There’s definitely crossover though, especially as Milton’s Satan has informed the modern anti hero, and vampires are generally always anti heroes in modern fiction. I don’t think Claudia necessarily is a Milton’s Satan either – I’ve said it before, but I think she’s a true Gothic Heroine – but she definitely has some of those attributes of a fallen angel, particularly in the sense of hedonism and perversion of form and family.

In a lot of ways, it’s part of the fun with Claudia – she gets these elements of both Louis and Lestat, and gets to be her own thing too. Her vampirism is its own unique monstrousness, but I don’t think she plays as cleanly into the traditional vampire as Louis does.

I'll leave it there, because this is way more than you asked for, anon, haha, sorry. Hopefully it's interesting.