#it's one thing to be aware of your audience and another to write something with an intended purpose to get chopped up into little bits

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A huge THANK YOU for the fantastic writing advice and resources you are creating and sharing. I'm reblogging almost all of your posta on my side blog, which is for storing writing advice, so I can easily come back to your wonderful pieces of advice whenever I need them. I can't begin to tell you how helpful your posts have been for me!

May I ask if you happen to have any tips on writing dialogue, where the POV character is not taking part in the exchange?

For example, Kali, the POV character, is in the room when Brim and Sheila have a conversation. Or maybe all three of them are having a conversation, which at one point becomes a conversation between Brim and Sheila, while the POV character is sort of left out of whatever affairs they have to discuss.

Do you have any advice or good practice examples on how to build such dialogue scenes so that it doesn't feel as if the POV character is too passive and in simply in the scene for the reader's convenience (so that the reader may listen in to what is being said).

Totally understandable if you don't have time for this and decide to disregard the ask. :)

Again, a million thanks for your wonderful blog!

Additional detail from your private message: "The POV character is narrating in third person. It's a close third person POV."

Close Third Person POV Dialogue

Third-Person Limited Point of View

(Often called a “close third”) When an author sticks closely to a single character but remains in third-person.

The narrator can do this for the entire novel or switch between different characters for different chapters or sections.

Allows the author to limit a reader’s perspective and control what information the reader knows.

Used to build interest and heighten suspense.

It is the most common POV choice in modern literature.

This narration adheres to a Sympathetic POV the way first person does, getting the reader inside that character's head but also allowing the depiction of reactions or other things the character isn't aware of.

If the pronouns could be changed to first person without losing any comprehension, this is the POV you're in.

Learning from The Classics. E.g., George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four:

The dialogue that follows between two men, and later, a third, does not include the POV character, who is reduced to a spectator:

After the altercation, we return to the POV character, Winston, then the narration provides more context on what just transpired:

Another Example: Lois Lowry's The Giver

The dialogue that follows among Lily, Father, and Mother, without the POV character's involvement, but we are aware that he is in the room, listening to the exchange:

After the dialogue, we return to the POV character, Jonas:

Examples from George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire:

Daenerys is an interesting example. Reading about descriptions of her from some other characters (who have mostly only seen her from afar or heard rumors and second-hand accounts about her), she gets painted as a bloodthirsty tyrant who has left Slaver's Bay in ruins and is possibly as mad as her father. Reading her POV, we see she's sane, albeit naïve, and is truly compassionate and well-intentioned in her actions; unfortunately, her good intentions tend to horribly backfire due to mistakes or sheer bad luck.

Cersei is actually something of an aversion; while the audience finally gets a look at the childhood prophecy which has shaped her entire life through fear, we also get a look at her utter hostility — such as her silent fury during the marriage of Tommen and Margaery and her paranoid beliefs that anyone who opposes her is working with her enemies. Even in her own POV, she comes across as petty and selfish at best, and outright psychopathic at worst. Even as a child of ten, she was capable of arranging the murder of one of her best friends.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

With these examples, we see how some writers utilise similar techniques. Even though the POV character is not taking part of the interaction, they don't feel passive to the reader. We still feel their presence as an observer (like Winston in 1984 and Jonas in The Giver). In that moment, the POV character and the reader seem to merge. The authors simply allow the conversation/interaction to flow, thus writing the dialogue as normal, including more context either before or after (or both) the dialogue/interaction.

More: Writing Tips & References on Dialogue

Thank you so much for your kind words, really warmed my heart! You are so lovely. In addition to these examples, you can also look for sample dialogues in this POV in your favourite novels, or the ones you wish to emulate, for further inspiration. Hope this helps with your writing :)

[glorianas]

a lot of YA and fantasy stuff has always been a little cringe and silly but at least it used to be cringe from the heart instead of designed in a lab to get teens on tiktok to use a certain sentence from it

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Character Tone VS Narrative Tone

Sometimes characters will do things that they believe are good or bad, but the narrative tone tells you otherwise. It can be hard for some people to separate the character’s feelings and actions with what the writer is personally agrees with, so let’s look into how we can make that happen - which also works as a media literacy guide of what to look for when theorising - and only theorising - if a writer does or doesn’t agree with a character;

1. Tonal dissonance. If a character’s mood doesn’t pass the scene’s vibe check, chances are that the character is about to do something the narrative isn’t framing as a good thing. Say Character A is telling Character B a secret they learned from Character C. B’s response might be to be confused or concerned about the situation and ask why A would tell them. Mixing in other bad vibes, such as the weather or setting or lighting of the scene, can additionally make the audience question whether the action was right - and bonus points if they also have the offending character acting poorly in other ways or getting called out for previous wrongdoings in the same scene

2. Karma’s a writer. Actions have consequences both in and out of your story, and using them to reward or punish choices your characters make can indicate whether or not they were the right thing to do. Expand on that through character interactions if you want more nuance

3. Hide away. A character hiding their actions for whatever reason can indicate that, even subconsciously, they’re aware that it wasn’t something others would approve of. Make them sweat, have them struggle to keep it secret. Let it lead to more wrong moves in future to cover up for the original issue, such as one lie covering for another lie. Let it become more trouble than it’s worth until they have to accept that they messed up, even if a bit of stress was the only karma they get for it in the end

4. Pick a theme. Between overarching themes and individual character themes, you can potentially come up with some pretty good long term lessons; if the character acts against the themes and the lesson they’re going to amount to, punish them for straying in a way that’s appropriate and proportional to the act, then work it into some sort of lesson for the character to learn. For example, if the theme is nature vs nurture and you want the lesson to be being true to yourself rather than what others make you into, a character acting on nurtured traits rather than natural traits might be punished through pressures to conform and the act getting amped up as further conflicts between the two sides of themselves present

5. Recruit a mouthpiece. Which character would be the most likely to call out the offending party’s BS? See if you can come to a scenario where they’d do so - albeit making sure it all stays natural and in-character. Maybe they go about it in a way that doesn’t even hit the mark, but at least it’s been said so your audience has had it addressed. Remember; don’t just insert X random character and have them be uncharacteristically analytical, have it be someone who would already do that and word it in a way that fits their character voice. Above all the interaction needs to feel natural rather than forced

[theyluvlyss]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

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In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

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"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

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What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

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Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...

but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.

also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@junknstufff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

3,877

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[musicalmoritz]

It’s canon Mitsuba’s gay?

I’m gonna use this as an excuse to yap because Mitsuba’s queercoding is either weirdly downplayed by fans or used solely for BL shipping purposes so I want to talk about it through the lens of what it means for his character, role in the story, and relationship with Kou

Yes, Mitsuba is canonically gay

Things don’t have to be explicitly stated in order to be canon, subtext is a major part of media analysis. This is something a lot of fans miss which leads to a misunderstanding of the source material. I do have some credentials for this, I’ve taken two undergrad college literature classes in which the subject of queercoding did come up multiple times. Meaning analyzing queercoding has literally gone towards my degree so I feel like my opinion holds some weight (not as much as that of an actual English major but yk I assume I’ve had more education on it than the general TBHK fandom)

There are multiple ways to queercode a character, sometimes it can be as simple as feminizing a man or masculinizing a woman. Though that method might be a bit outdated nowadays with gender roles becoming less strict, it’s still worth keeping in mind when analyzing queer characters. Another way is through romantically colored scenes with characters of the same sex, or by having them hint at disinterest in the opposite sex. Mitsuba checks off all three of these boxes and then some

First off, Mitsuba is attracted to men. This is made extremely obvious through his relationship with Kou but I’m gonna explain it anyways because unfortunately I’ve seen a lot of fans say they’re just platonic

Mitsuba and Kou went on a date. When this is brought up, fans typically jump to the excuse of “but Kou said it wasn’t a date,” which is where my American Lit class is going to come in handy. One of the major things we learned is that authors have to understand that everything they write has some sort of real world connotation. If you write a scene with a doctor, you have to understand that your readers already have preconceived notions of what doctors represent. You can choose to either lean into that or subvert it, but you have to be aware that as soon as a doctor enters the scene, readers have already made assumptions about that character

The word “date” is clearly being used in a romantic context here. When Kou texts his friends and brother about it, they all assume he’s talking about a romantic date. While in the actual context of the scene, Mitsuba and Kou aren’t quite ready to use such a strong label yet, the romantic wording here is still very intentional. AidaIro would not have labeled this moment as a date if they didn’t want readers to view it in a romantic light, because they understand that their readers are going to associate dates with romance. Japanese censorship is really strict, it’s hard to publish stories with explicitly queer characters unless the series is labeled as a BL or GL. And so Japanese manga writers often have to find roundabout ways to express that characters are gay without outright stating it- such as suggesting that they’re going on a date with a character of the same sex

In the printed volume for Vol.20, there’s an editor’s note that mentions that when Kou and Mitsuba are making plans to hang out at the school festival, it holds a romantic implication for the Japanese audience. Cultural differences are important to keep in mind, to western fans this scene might not raise any eyebrows but for its primary audience, it is confirmation that Mitsuba and Kou are romantic. I also find it interesting that the editor felt this context was important enough to warrant clarification

And frankly, their relationship doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s solely platonic. Male friendship is something TBHK writes very realistically, the male characters aren’t as touchy-feely with their friends as they are with their female love interests. Yokoo and Satou don’t directly ask Kou how he’s feeling when they notice he’s upset, instead they give him a task to distract him- similar to how men in real life cheer their friends up through quality time rather than talking through their emotions like women do (not every man ofc but a good majority of them). When Teru is down, Akane doesn’t hold him and reassure him the way he does with Aoi. There are no grand declarations of ultimate “friendship” the way you see in fan servicy series like Haikyuu. Instead, he used his and Teru’s rivalry to indirectly motivate him to get his head back in the game. When Hanako is sad, Kou cheers him up by making donuts for him and then giving them to Nene so she can pretend she’s the one who made them. This is a very healthy portrayal of male friendship, and Mitsuba and Kou are nothing like this

Mitsuba and Kou both cry and vent to each other multiple times (the Mitsuba Arc, the Picture Perfect Arc, the Nightlife Arc), and instead of comforting each other indirectly they do things like offering to die for each other. You would never see Akane offer to die to make Teru feel better, nor would you Aoi and Nene or Kou and Hanako. It stands out so much from other friendships in the series, even Kou’s friendships with other characters. That is a conscious writing decision, AidaIro make a point to show Mitsuba as an exception for Kou. It’s worth noting that in the same chapter where Yokoo and Satou cheer Kou up indirectly, Mitsuba attempts to directly have him talk about his feelings

They’re also incredibly possessive over one another, in a way friends usually aren’t. When Kou was in the Red House, he was shown his greatest desires, and Mitsuba appeared in one of these. Kou said he knew Mitsuba would appear, which is interesting because at that point he had already picked up on the house showing him what he wanted. But what does he want? He wants Mitsuba to rely on him entirely, to be completely useless without him. He wants Mitsuba to be “no good without him,” to need him so badly that he begs him to die so they can be together. I’m not exaggerating, these are lines pulled straight from the chapter (paraphrased but still). Later on in the Nightlife arc, Kou breaks down when he discovers Mitsuba has been relying on Tsukasa for life-saving help. As for Mitsuba, he wants to die by Kou’s hands. He says it wouldn’t be satisfying if anyone else killed him, and that he would be happy if Kou were to be the last person he spent time with before he died. He tries to trap Kou in a picture perfect world just like Hanako does with Nene, because he wants to live a normal life with him. It’s also shown in one of the extras that Mitsuba cries when Kou ignores him

They’re also drawn very romantically, again we don’t see Teru and Akane this intimate with one another unless they’re fighting. We especially don’t see Kou this intimate with anyone other than Mitsuba, and while Mitsuba is sometimes clingy with Tsukasa we certainly never see him posed romantically with a woman. This comes back to authorial intent and real world connotations, AidaIro know that male friends aren’t typically this close, and therefore casual affection like this will be interpreted in a romantic light. We see them hold hands/wrists multiple times too, Kou gives Mitsuba a piggyback ride in one scene, and in ASHK they had a classic “pinned against the wall” page

I’ll also mention the AUs, because those indicate a lot about the characters as well. In Hanako-Kun of the Opera, Kou poisoned Mitsuba so he could take him away from the opera house and protect him from Tsukasa. He basically kidnapped him. He also stayed with Mitsuba at the opera house for a seemingly long period of time despite hating opera. Aaaaand they’re childhood best friends in this au and Kou took care of Mitsuba while he was sick

Then there’s the Ghost Hotel, where Kou is a werewolf who takes bites out of mummy Mitsuba during full moons. Despite this, the two appear to be friends and Mitsuba helps Kou out around the kitchen. Cannibalism is consistently tied to romance throughout TBHK, most notably with Hakubo and Sumire but other romantic pairings have cannibalistic moments or official arts. During the zombie mokke chapter, Nene panicked when Akane tries to eat her because she assumed it would put her in a love triangle with Aoi. So yeah, cannibalism in TBHK is directly tied to romance and we see that with Mitsukou both in canon and in this au. Speaking of which, I’m not even gonna get into the symbolism of Kou holding a heart out to Mitsuba. Connect the dots for yourselves

Now that we’ve got Mitsukou out of the way, let’s talk about Mitsuba’s disinterest in women

Remember how I said one of the ways queercoding is done is by having a character hint at disinterest in the opposite sex? Yeah, very rarely are we going to see a queercoded male character outright say “I have no attraction to women.” Instead they say they just never saw the appeal in dating, or that they never had time to settle down. In more obvious cases, we have scenes like Reiner from AOT joking that Ymir isn’t all that into guys

I couldn’t find the second scene but there are TWO extras where the subject of Mitsuba’s disinterest in women comes up. C’mon guys I’m trying not to be mean here but you have to be blind, oblivious, or in denial to not pick up on that. Whyyyyy would they mention Mitsuba not having a crush on any girls twice if it weren’t to suggest something about his preference?? Coupled with his appearance (which I’ll get to later) and relationship with Kou, these scenes carry a lot of weight. Even if those other aspects weren’t included, scenes like this would still indicate he has no interest in women (which would make him gay or aroace, though due to his relationship with Kou the aroace thing is kind of ruled out)

Compare this to a scene where Mitsuba thinks he’s being asked out by a man. He doesn’t say “hmmm nope no guys, I’m cuter than all of them~” he specifically says “I’m not interested in guys with lame earrings.” The way this is worded implies that Mitsuba is discussing a type, though it’s v much a comedic scene and we know from everything else that he absolutely does like guys with lame earrings, it’s still worded in a way that makes him appear queer. If he were straight, they would have had him say he’s not interested in guys at all (like Dazai from Bungou Stray Dogs, John Watson from BBC Sherlock, Finn Hudson from Glee, idk there are a lot of male characters that are explicit straight sorry for the crazy random list). Also note how he teases Kou about it, he knows that Kou is fond of him and doesn’t hesitate to use that against him (like when he was comforting him during the Nightlife arc)

They don’t go overboard with Mitsuba’s disinterest in women because, well, that’s not really necessary. Two scenes is already a lot, and he doesn’t have any romantic relationships with women in canon (even as a crush/a joke scene). It’s rare for TBHK characters to have absolutely no scenes expressing interest in the opposite sex, since the series is partially a romance. But Mitsuba consistently only ever shows interest in one man, and when girls are brought up he’s quick to brush it off. His mom did think Nene was his girlfriend when they met, but this was depicted as a very awkward and comedic scene. Because the premise of Mitsuba having a girlfriend is objectively hilarious

(Due to Sousuke’s young age it’s reasonable to assume he wasn’t out to his mom yet, he’s around the age where most kids are closeted. It’s even possible that Sousuke hadn’t come to terms with his sexuality yet, though it’s still a prevalent part of both his character and No.3’s)

Now let’s move onto appearances. I want to give a quick disclaimer, not all gay men are feminine and not all feminine men are gay. Androgyny is also very common in anime and doesn’t automatically mean a character is gay, but there are cases when it’s used for queercoding. Mitsuba is one of these cases

Mitsuba is a very feminine character, this is addressed as soon as he shows up in the manga. He was bullied for his appearance (and personality), but unlike his personality he never tried to change his feminine appearance. He kept his hair long, continues to wear scarves and cardigans and earrings. No.3 wears these things as well, and I would argue has a more feminine personality since he seems to be more open about his emotions and idk. I struggle to categorize feminine and masculine traits because imo that’s subjective but there are things society deems feminine vs. masculine. The problem is that I really dislike the whole “men are strong and women are emotional” thing but ehhhh I guess I have to talk about it for this. Hmph. But yeah although Mitsuba isn’t exactly the biggest sweetheart ever, he does act somewhat feminine compared to the other male characters (as I’ve said he’s p much the only man in the series who attempts to work through emotional conflicts directly)

Once again we circle back to intent, AidaIro know that a male character dressed in pink with pink eyes and long pink hair is going to raise some eyebrows. Even by androgynous anime standards, it’s a bit much. And good for him, although not all gay men are feminine, some are and that’s also fine. I can’t speak on how well he represents feminine gay men because I’m a lesbian but he does dress similar to some of the feminine gay men I’ve known irl (or slightly less feminine in some cases…I knew this one dude in high school who used to wear corsets to class and he was so badass I hope he’s doing well)

I could get into how Kou is a bit feminized too with the whole housework thing but this ain’t abt him. I will say that Kou is still a very masculine character but despite this his character is feminized in some ways compared to the other men. I’m not really here to discuss whether that’s good or bad, I’m just stating the evidence as it is, you can make your own conclusions as to how you feel about it

So how does being queer impact Mitsuba’s character arc?

When I get around to writing my analyses of all the TBHK characters I WILL be talking more in depth about the queer allegories with Mitsuba’s character but for now I’ll give ya’ll a quick summary. Supernatural characters have been used for years to represent queerness, the same could be said for villains and any character trope that represents a feeling of “otherness.” Sometimes it’s more broad like X-Men, where the superpowered characters are used to represent all types of minorities (though I believe X-Men is more closely tied to race, there are rampant queer themes as well). Then there’s books like Interview with the Vampire that get more specific with it, where Louis denying his “true nature” as a vampire is used as an allegory for him denying his queerness. Well I’m here to tell you that Mitsuba and Louis de Pointe du Lac are in the same boat

Mitsuba differs from the other supernaturals because he desperately tries to hold on to feelings of normalcy. He wants to be a normal human and live a normal human life. He doesn’t want to be othered, to be outcasted from society for something he can’t control. We don’t see Hanako, Tsuchigomori, Mei, or any of the other supernatural characters struggle with this. You could argue that Akane does but his situation is more related to learning to empathize with others than any internal battles within himself. Hanako may have moments of wishing him and Nene could have something more, but that’s more about romance than his identity.

This desire to be “normal” is unique to Mitsuba’s character, and it’s a very queer desire. Being an angsty teenager who hasn’t fully accepted themself yet and hasn’t realized that being queer is not only normal, but a beautiful experience. It’s also so interesting to me that as he’s trying so hard to be normal, it creates a push and pull between him and Kou. He wants to be normal for Kou but he also feels that he’s hurting Kou just by existing, that this could only end bad for him. Oh the inherent guilt of having your first gay crush and feeling like you're corrupting them hist for pining from afar

So, can you ship him with women? Technically you can do anything, shipping isn’t illegal and we all have free will. Should you ship him with women is more subjective, I personally think no!! Queerness is not just a sexuality, it’s an identity that deeply impacts who you are as a person. It shapes your experiences and your view of yourself, and in an allegorical way it has certainly done this for Mitsuba. Yes, bi people are queer as well and this is still true for them, but bisexuality is not Mitsuba’s experience. Mono-attraction exists and that specification is very important to gay men and lesbians. For some people sexuality is fluid and that’s beautiful, but it doesn’t work that way for everyone

Some queer fans don’t care if gay characters are shipped with members of the opposite sex, and they’re entitled to their own opinions. It makes me immensely uncomfortable tho, so please block me if you ship Mitsuba with women. That goes for any ships between canon gay/lesbian characters and the opposite sex. I respect people’s right to have opinions but that doesn’t mean I have to like the opinions themselves, and I don’t have to engage with anything that makes me uneasy. That goes for all of you btw, never let people convince you that you have to put up with shit you hate on the internet lmao, this is not real life babes. Block and move on

TL;DR

Mitsuba is too gay to function

[olderthannetfic]

/olderthannetfic/769334704445997057/another-fandometrics-year-in-review-another-bevy

I am - genuinely - very sympathetic to the frustrations of solely f/f shippers and I DO think some people are a little too quick to shrug off the lack of f/f in fandom spaces with “lack of representation in media what can you do” when fandom is all about assigning personalities and backstories to one-line characters. HOWEVER. As someone who likes all kinds of ships, the experiences I have had across many MANY fandoms with solely f/f shippers treating people who also liked the main m/m ship as traitors and bad feminists, not to mention the number of people who have told me, a trans man, that I HAVE to write more f/f and less m/m For The Sisterhood, has made me LESS likely to engage in f/f, not more. Some of y’all are your own worst enemy when it comes to this stuff I swear. (Hashtag not all femslashers, hashtag some of my best friends are femslashers, etc)

--

Demands that people defend and explain perfectly commonplace things always end up generating dumber and dumber explanations.

I agree that that explanation by itself is kind of weak, but "Why are you asking only about AO3?" (as people often are) plus representation problems plus the other commonly cited reasons add up to a perfectly sufficient explanation. People just don't like what they're hearing.

--

The kind of f/f fandom people are often looking for—a by cis wlw, for cis wlw one—is not that different in size from the by cis mlm, for cis mlm one. They are both small.

Yes, I know they pretend that's not what they mean. They are lying. Possibly to themselves. Just look at the bawwwwing over the idea that cis men liking f/f could add to the amount of f/f art or the audience for the same.

Many AO3 slashers are better compared to transbian catgirls making lesbian furry porn or cis dudes horny for Buffy/Faith or something. There are plenty of people who care about f/f. They're just not necessarily the ~right~ people in the right spaces making the right art to count in some wanker's statistics.

Part of the reason our explanations and discussions always sound so bonkers is that we constantly compare apples to oranges.

--

And while we're at it, let's talk about that hoary old ~one-line character~ thing.

The reality is that we like to talk about how we elevate random walk-on characters, but the vast majority of shippy AO3 fanfic is about fairly major characters. Clint/Coulson was bizarrely popular in 2012. It has been twelve years. It is time to get over it.

On top of most things focusing on leads, the focus is often on characters who are given a lot of interiority. The audience is invited to be in their head and care about their feelings. People aren't usually good at analyzing film, so they use more familiar metrics involving text: how many lines do they have in the script? How many minutes does that translate to on screen? They don't know how to quantify a character being treated as an object to be looked at beyond "Booty shorts bad". But it's not general sex appeal or amount of skin on display that matters here.

As audiences, we respond to film grammar and "Just happen to like" or not like some character as a result of it, but we aren't aware of the mechanics, so we can't explain why beyond vague spluttering and "How dare you! Everyone should think this because it's the natural response!"

In general, media with multiple central women who have intense relationships with each other and who are conventionally attractive generate plenty of interest in f/f. Media with one hot girl who has the camera trained on her ass all the time while the men do everything interesting usually don't.

It's a no brainer and the harebrained explanations come from trying to look deeper to find the secret conspiracy where there is none.

--

The biggest mistake of most of this dumb discourse is "But I see all these queer women here. Why isn't there more f/f?"

This presupposes some default "normal" level of f/f without any actual justification for why that would be expected. You see the same nonsense from people going "Why is there so much m/m?"

What's the default? 10% because of the fake statistic that 10% of people are gay? 75% because action movies are sausagefests and all the important relationships are between men? What's the "normal" level of femslash? 25% because f/f, f/m, m/m, and gen are all equally valid? 80% because lots of fanfic writers are women?

Chasing one precise number is a fool's errand, but building a whole theory on the idea that there's an implicit number without even digging into that assumption is more foolish still.

When you look at the fanfic (or art!) spaces that are full of dudes, they often look like a bit of a mirror of AO3. Lots of het still. Lots of f/f. Lots of lady blorbos people are obsessed with. Limited m/m. Depending on the space, there might be a lot more gen. It's not perfectly 1:1, but then AO3 isn't precisely like other chick-heavy fanfic spaces anyway.

--

In my experience, the thing that makes a blorbo take off is that they're fairly major in canon, often driving the narrative even if they aren't the main protagonist, and they show up early.

In the cases where they weren't there at the very beginning, them showing up was the catalyst for fans who like this type of character to get into the canon at all. It's not just Castiel: you see it with Methos from Highlander and plenty of others. It's usually in a context where that fandom didn't have that much established for this type of fan. There wasn't a second dude to pair the lead with or the ship turned some people off or something. Highlander, for example, had fucktons of het shippers, both of canon het and of various OFCs and canon dudes. It was the slashers who stampeded over there when friends told them there was new ship potential for m/m. SPN... Sam/Dean was very popular on LJ, but I think it's obvious why a viable non-brother ship was of interest to people. I watched tons of people get pimped into Teen Wolf for Sterek. Of course they ended up liking it and not really caring about other ships: they were pre-selected to like that specific vibe. (And they are all wrong because Scott is the best and Derek has weird teeth.) The same thing happens with f/f. People get into media all the time because they're promised such-and-such a ship dynamic.

Wynonna Earp had plenty of people who were there for the women because the women are who matter for the most part. People were super into the canon f/f because it's hot and because it didn't seem like they were just going to get hit by a bus and shooed out of the narrative.

How many things that everybody and their sister saw have that many main women who matter? Some, definitely, but they're outnumbered by the sausagefests and by the things with very central het. Not everything with a huge audience gets a big fanfic fandom, but most things with big fanfic fandoms do have a big audience. You need critical mass to make a fandom happen.

Something like MCU has a variety of tasty shipping options, but the characters it spent all its time on first were the small selection of guys fandom cares the most about. When other characters were established very early, they also had an early spurt of fandom. I can't be the only one who remembers Pepperony fandom on LJ. It wasn't just people tagging canon ships in the background: Pepper/Tony shippers were a whole thing.

Yes, there are exceptions, but we make a big deal of them while ignoring the overall pattern.

Again, it is time to get over Clint/Coulson, Arthur/Eames, and people hallucinating that Hux had a personality in that first movie.

These are rare exceptions, and they're all snark-based at that. Darcy Lewis was also obnoxiously popular based solely on a few lines of snark, but that didn't count because she wasn't the correct and virtuous choice of favorite female character.

(Seriously, you should have seen the whining about all the people horny for Darcy who didn't give a fuck about boring Jane. Sorry, but your blorbo is a snooze and mine has amazing tits in addition to being funny.)

--

Let's go look at what's big on AO3 since it's easy and that's what other lazy statistics compilers do and then base their whining on:

Looking at the M/M tag, here's the sidebar:

Castiel/Dean Winchester (111856)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (70823)

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (70134)

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (67796)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (61397)

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (56548)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (55109)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (49179)

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (46679)

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (44754)

I'm seeing canons with huge audiences. Teen Wolf and SPN are way more popular in fanfic fandom, relatively speaking, but they're certainly not obscure media.

I'm seeing a lot of leads. Sirius/Remus does stand out a little: they aren't walk-ons, but fanon did elevate them. Same with Draco, but main protagonist/most obvious nemesis is hardly a surprising ship type.

Let's play with exclude filters and see what's next (numbers won't be exact since this is via excluding the previous batches):

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (43234)

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (40115)

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (38398)

Keith/Lance (Voltron) (32757)

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (32744)

Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (31834)

Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (31527)

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (31011)

Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (30819)

Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (30133)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (27403)

Original Male Character/Original Male Character (26854)

Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou (26854)

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (26454)

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov (26453)

Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) (21154)

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion (20946)

James T. Kirk/Spock (20716)

Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin (20561)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (20113)

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru (20039)

Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio (18806)

Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel (18013)

Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (17577)

Dan Howell/Phil Lester (17518)

Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager (17404)

Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (17390)

Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou (17141)

Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact) (17041)

Harry Potter/Severus Snape (16773)

Oh look: more leads.

Sure, there are some little oddities, like the fact that taekook is obviously the worst BTS ship and it is a personal attack on me that it is that popular. But come the fuck on: this is a parade of some of the most famous musicians and most popular anime, shows that had huge audiences and particularly huge audiences of the type that like fanfic.

Let's have a look at f/m:

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug (33773)

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (33031)

Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) (29586)

Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren (24192)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (21606)

James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (21088)

Kylo Ren/Rey (16028)

James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader (15922)

Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (15635)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (15335)

Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (14552)

Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (14214)

Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (13616)

Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson (11471)

Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak (11383)

Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan (11272)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (11187)

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (10529)

Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov (9750)

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (9736)

Okay, it is AO3 after all, so some m/m ships have snuck in there, but the general trend is still leads, leads, leads, now with some readerfic. (For James/Lily, you can blame the insanity that is Marauders fandom on TikTok, or so I hear.)

And f/f:

Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor (21520)

Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) (17873)

Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan (16168)

Minor or Background Relationship(s) (13681)

Clarke Griffin/Lexa (12876)

Adora/Catra (She-Ra) (11532)

Amity Blight/Luz Noceda (10880)

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (10532)

Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends) (8925)

Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long (7766)

Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler (7369)

Korra/Asami Sato (7146)

Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair (6720)

Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (6684)

Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught (5764)

Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) (5529)

Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell (5347)

Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein (4895)

Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo (4662)

Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie (4402)

Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan (4284)

Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer (4223)

Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam (3936)

Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova (3876)

Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca (3700)

Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva (3689)

Castiel/Dean Winchester (3664)

Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price (3471)

Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs (3394)

Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee (3324)

Carmilla might be a little obscure compared to some media, and some other ships have snuck in here, but again, we're seeing some fairly prominent canons and the leads or at least main cast who have intense relationships in those canons. If most fantasy tv shows were Once Upon a Time, all of AO3 might be awash in nothing but swanqueen and captainswan.

The big thing that one sees is simply that f/f fandom often revolves around different media, while m/m and f/m are more likely to be into the same stuff that's full, full, full of main dudes getting to do things with one woman who matters.

We do not, in general, elevate anybody.

Not unless some very talented writer leads the way first with a juicy longfic that establishes all the fanon.

We repeat the myth that we do because it suits a certain narrative about how creative and transformative fandom is—and another equally popular narrative about how the lack of ship A/B is a ~conspiracy~ to rob one of one's rightful overflowing feed trough of fic.

It's bullshit.

We write about leads.

[shanastoryteller]

any plans for another wincest fic since say something is ending soon (maybe?) love love your sam + dean and ur poly dynamics are a god send i love luis jess sam and all his uni friends so much i love love love his powers <333 ur fic is like a self indulgent fic written just for me thank you <3333

thank you!!

mmmm the thing is in spite of obviously liking wincest i did mostly get into it just because the fic is that damn good, it was very much build it and they will come. my first inclination tends to be platonic brothers who are freaks about each other. see something say something was initially not wincest but once their freak dynamic was happening right alongside jess i was like. it's actually so much weirder and uncomfortable if they don't want to fuck actually. so why not, fine, let's see where this goes

(i actually think dean would have come off as way more of a threat to their relationship if he wasn't in love with sam because then he'd never have a reason to try and curb his jealousy and possessiveness, just like in canon. ironically it actually gives him some practice at self control and not feeling entitled to every piece of sam, something that he otherwise has no reason to put the breaks on)

the problem with platonic sam and dean is that fic writers tend to just make them really close brothers and i'm like no, you don't understand. the freakness is inherit. sex if anything makes them more normal. (as goshen said in one of my favorite fics of theirs [Acid] Sam said, "You know I wish you just wanted to fuck me? That would be easy, they've got words for that kind of messed up.")

like when i wrote dumb luck or good ghost it was so important that they were not even a little bit normal even though it's completely platonic. and it's set before john's death, when they're arguably the most normal and healthy about each other in the whole canon.

what was so fun about writing that fic for me was that it's from dean's pov and we get to see him trying to deal with sam's death and falling the fuck apart, even with his dad still alive, in ways that are just unhinged. and we get these pinprick moments of awareness from dean that what he's doing and feeling is insane (asking john for a picture, wanting to lie on top of sam's grave, digging him up) but most of the time he's moving like he's being normal about this but we, the audience, read between the lines and go jesus christ you're holding on by a thread. by contrast it makes the moments when he actually thinks he's going insane (seeing sam) seem almost grounded in comparison.

and sam's gone and it's all dean pov so we the audience go okay deans' a freak about sam, that doesn't mean sam is a freak back. sure, signs point to him giving up his life for his brother, but some brothers would do that, it's not that crazy. and then you find out mr. i just want to be normal and safe actually agreed to go off to hell and be trained with the demon that killed their mother and gave up his humanity for literally eternity! all to make sure his brother didn't die

and you're like oooooohhh. yeah no they're both fucked

that's the part i love. and it works for me whether there's wincest or not, it's just that wincest writers tend to land there as a matter of course

that said i still have the s1 sam getting sent to the endverse fic outlined and again that was initially conceived as platonic but also the dynamic of oblivious s1 sam and tortured in love broken endverse dean?? delicious. so who knows

[tsukiflwr]

𐙚 . YOUR EYES ONLY . . .

𝓅airing ∿ ran takahashi x f!reader ᰔ 𝑜ne shot ; fluff, established relationship 𐙚 𝓌c 1246 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. hehe another ran fic! I really hope you guys love this one, writing fluffy boyfie ran is now my favorite thing ever ฅ́˘ฅ̀ hehe i listened to this song while writing, based on this ask ﹒ ꒰ 𝓁ibrary ꒱

𝒮. ran always plays better when he knows you, his sweet girlfriend is watching him play

When ran asked you to be his girlfriend he was a nervous and stuttering mess. His hands were shaking and sweating, and his heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest, his body tense as he looked at you, your pretty eyes staring right back at him. You didn't care about his sweaty shaking hands as you grabbed them, caressing the top of his hands softly with your thumbs as you said yes. And ran swore in the moment that he was the luckiest man on earth. 

And he continued to feel that way as your relationship progressed over the years. He’s never known someone so loving, supporting and kind like you (besides his mother who absolutely loves you to pieces) and he swore he was in heaven every morning he woke up with you in his arms. He always hated having to leave you alone in bed while he went to early practices, he never failed to leave a ton of soft kisses all over your face before leaving. 

He was totally and undeniably in love with you, flaws and all – ran didn't believe you had any flaws, something he loved to remind you about. His teammates liked to tease him all the time about you, calling him obsessed with how he always found a way to bring you up in the conversation, or laughing and teasing when he would check his phone on breaks just to see if you had texted him back. 

They would laugh amongst themselves as they watched, ran scan the audience of people who came to watch them play, wanting to find you in the crowd before the match. Which was what he was doing now…

Ran stood a few feet from his teammates, absentmindedly fidgeting with his water bottle as he scanned the crowd. His eyes held the longing he felt as he searched for you. He anxiously rocked side to side on his feet as he searched for you, a little nervous for the match that was soon going to start and the fact that he still couldn't find you. But a happy smile quickly comes across his face and the nervousness he feels is fast to fade away when he finally sees you. 

A few of his teammates watched him with a smile / smirk on their faces when they noticed how his eyes lit up when he finally found you, his tense shoulders instantly relaxing. There you were in your seat, clad in one of his jerseys, matching colored ribbons in your hair. A smile gracing your lips once you locked eyes with your boyfriend, both of you feeling breathless at the prolonged eye contact. 

Ran regrettably has to break the loving eye contact when one of his teammates calls for him, waving him over to where the rest of his teammates and coach stood. He quickly looked back at you, chuckling to himself when you blew him a kiss. He wished he could blow one back, but he was well aware of all the cameras that were on him, and he didn't not want to create any dating rumors – he enjoyed the sweet private life the two of you shared. 

So instead, he brought his hand to pat his chest, over his heart before touching the small pendant on his necklace that was tucked safely under his jersey – the pendant identical to the necklace you were wearing. He sent you one more smile that took your breath away before he joined his teammates, feeling more confident than ever to win knowing that your eyes were on him. 

The confidence he felt was clear to see by everyone as the match went on, the term that's heavily used was that he was on fire. Every point he made or black, his eyes were always finding yours in the crowd, getting a surge of energy every time he saw you cheering for him. Seeing you grinning and cheering for him made him fall in love with you even more every time. 

When the game started to get rough and he found himself getting nervous he would always glance at you, finding the sight of you calming. In the beginning you were always the one to make him nervous but now you were the one to calm him from his nerves . . .

The match of course ended with a win for ran and his teammates but ran couldn't exactly focus on celebrating the win – instead all he could think about was you. He hurried as he packed up his things in the locker room, eager to find you and go home. His teammates chuckled and teased him when they noticed his rushing, causing him to blush and shyly wave them off. As soon as he could leave, he was rushing to where he knew you were waiting for him. 

His grip on his duffle bag loosened and his light jog turned into a walk once you came into his sight. At the end of the long hallway of the building you stood leaning up against the way, your attention down at your phone. You were quick to look up from your phone once you heard approaching footsteps, a grin spreading across both of your faces once you locked eyes. 

Ran picked up his speed so he could get to you faster and you could barely slip your phone into your back pocket before you were being pulled into his arms. your giggle was muffled as your face was smushed against his chest in the eager hug. you were quick to wrap your arms around his waist, while he leant down to snuggle his face into your neck. Ran smiled and held you tight “hi pretty” 

You pulled away a little despite the fact that you just wanted to melt in his arms. You tilted your head to look up at him smiling as you locked eyes, you could see the tiredness and happiness in his eyes – he played so well, you were so proud of him. Ran didn't wait for you to respond before he was leaning down, his lips finding yours. The kiss was soft at first but as you both poured out your emotion into the kiss, it was quick to turn heated. 

Ran gently pushed you up against the wall, his hands trailing up your sides to cup your face with both hands. His duffle bag was long forgotten at his feet. Your hand trailed up his muscular back and tangled into his hair, but you quickly pulled away from the kiss – a small whine of disappointment leaving ran lips – thinking that you heard approaching footsteps, but you let out a small sigh of relief when no one came. You tore your eyes from the hallway and looked back up at your boyfriend who was looking at you with so much love in his eyes that it made you breathless for a few seconds. 

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered happily, your eyes held so much love and adoration. Ran’s breath hitched and he felt his eyes start to water a little. A strong wave of emotions always came over him whenever you said that. Being loved by you was something he never wanted to lose; it was a love he never felt before. 

“How did it feel to have thousands of eyes watching you tonight” you did your best to sound like an interviewer as you playfully held your fist close to his lips to act like a microphone. Ran grinned and chuckled at your silliness, he caressed your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, staring into your loved filled eyes as he whispered 

“Your eyes only are the ones that matter to me” 

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓇oro's note. firstly I am like obsessed with the cutesy little graphic I made omg , like look at himmmm , he's so pretty !! sorry for the lovely nonnie who sent this to me because of how long it took me for this to be posted , i really hope you like it !! please let me know what you guys think :3 ꒰ nav ꒱

likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part 5: The Structural Pass

Okay, by now you've nailed down how you want your plot, characters, and worldbuilding to be. If you haven't by now, it's a good time to format your document into manuscript format if you plan to move forward to publish in any form.

When it comes to structure, what you're really focusing on is readability. If the format of your book is a slog to get through, if your paragraphs are too long or your sentences are all the same. This will lose readers otherwise in love with your plot.

Dialogue

Dialogue heavy scenes are very fun to write, but pages of dialogue with no action can also be exhausting. Break up your dialogue heavy scenes with actions and descriptions. How does the character's body language reflect their feelings on the discussion? Can you give them a task (picking a lock, chopping onions) that allow you to add to the scene (fumbling when frustrated, dicing harder when angry)?

One mistake (that I've made plenty of times) is to have characters doing things for the sake of doing them. But this is an opportunity to add details that add to your plot (the normally awful cafeteria green beans are delicious, a clue to solving the murder!), character (an alien crewmember is trying to copy human expressions to seem more personable, but his many teeth just freak people out), and world-building and setting (Laura is ranting about her ex, but Tara is distracted by how soulless her rich mother's house seems).

Scene Lengths

Are your scenes running too long? Do they start in the wrong place? (Two paragraphs on making coffee instead of "She was making coffee when George burst in.") Tightening up your scenes will do a great deal to make your book better.

This is easy advice to give and harder to picture doing, I've found. Everything often feels essential to a scene. Try to tackle scenes with the following questions:

What is the point of the scene? (George tells Susan his wife left him for Keanu Reeves.)

Where does the action start? (When George burst through the door without knocking.)

What is the goal of the scene? (Susan starts to suspect George of murdering his wife.)

Where does the action end? (George leaves.)

Where should the scene end? - This answer depends entirely on what you need to happen next. Maybe you have another page and a half of Susan musing about her suspicions right there in the kitchen. But maybe this will be more impactful in the next scene, where Susan is snooping in the garden and happens to find something George's wife would never leave behind.

Varying Paragraphs and Sentences

Pull back and look at your pages. Are all the paragraphs the same length? Do you fall into using the same pattern of sentences over and over? (Guilty) Have you used the same word four times in a single paragraph to describe something? (Double guilty) Break those chunks up, what for those repeat words, and vary your sentences. This is going to help so much with issues you weren't aware of.

Chapters and Word Count

There are many ways to do chapters, but you want to keep an eye out for chapters that are going too long (giving your reader a visual break of a chapter ending can help shift the setting and tone) or too short (have you accomplished everything you need?) This is not a knock on either structure done on purpose - this is to catch something you may have overlooked.

When it comes to word count, industry standards are always a good baseline to go with. Your audience often approaches a genre with certain expectations, and while you can make a doorstopper of a romance, you will find more readers by sticking to the 80-100k range.

[gemissleeping]

Angel of Small Death | Part Two

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.

Read Part One here.

Length: 1.4k

Warnings: Haha... heyyyyyy (I feel really awkward rn, I feel I should beg forgiveness) so I might've been away for like... the whole year. But Merry Christmas?? I missed you guys and I missed writing sm. I heard you in the replies and I heard you in my inbox... so here it is!! I loved writing this as I'm easing back in. I love that so many of you loved it! Working on another part :) anyway drug use mentioned!! Toxic relationships!! Mature audiences! I love you all <3

“Where were you?” Mattheo asked as he threw his bag to the sun bleached grass beside you. It was the turn of Autumn, and the last thing you wanted was to be stuck inside doing arithmancy. The endless flood of numbers and charts made your head spin. 

“Here.” You answered simply, giving him a lazed smile from where you laid back in the grass. Matt sat down with a weighted sigh beside you, the skeletons of old leaves crunching beneath him. You looked to him for a moment, zoning in on the harsh set of his brow; the uncharacteristic tension he seemed to be carrying. 

“Well you shouldn’t be.” He wouldn’t look at you, perhaps just couldn’t. He was turned instead to the Black Lake, sprawling before you both like a mirror. The illusion only broken by the thin freckling of light rain upon its surface. It was all so easily disturbed. 

“It’s one class,” you sighed, feeling a creeping sense of guilt. “I don’t understand why you’ve got your knickers so twisted. As though you haven’t done worse.” You gave him an airy smile, which of course he didn’t return, still falsely captivated by the lake.

“I haven’t seen you since second. I just left Potions.” He looked at you then, the edge in his tone doing little to conceal the worry in his eyes. For the first time since you’d gotten to the lake, the dread you’d been so desperately trying to bury began to scratch at your chest again. The acute awareness that you had no concept of how long you had actually been down here setting in. Time was running past you like water, but you didn’t seem to be moving with it. 

“You’re high.”

Too late you remembered the remnants of the joint beside you, amongst the dead grass and weeds. The rough skin of Mattheo’s fingers now tainted with soil and ash. The betrayal in his voice made your stomach churn, now it was you who couldn’t look to him. 

“Only when we’re together, that was the deal.” He was upset with you, and somehow it felt unexpected. Your fingertips found the edge of your skirt, toying with it like a chastised child. He’d never been disappointed with you before, or perhaps you just hadn’t cared. You weren’t too sure which was the truth. 

“One class you might’ve gotten away with, but three?” His hands met his face mercilessly, the brunt of his frustration meeting there as he ran them across it. “Fuck, I mean what were you thinking?” Eyes on the ground, you continued attacking your skirt’s hem with a frown. The gentleness had returned, seeping into his tone. This was the part of him you needed. Whatever it was that was inside of you, this supposed grief, couldn’t be consumed. But at least he made it feel like something you could navigate; somewhere where you could find someone close to who you had been.

“Are you trying to torture me?” His words cut through the stillness of the water, the absence of a leaf adorned breeze.

“What?” The words tumbled out of you, feeble - flat. 

“Are you,” he repeated gently, your eyes locking as you turned to him, “trying to torture me?” His eyes held, earnest. The kind of vulnerability you’d only seen from him when you were alone at the end of the night and a bottle. “I just want to help. It’s the least I could-” Something within him cracked, made its way up his throat. Matt held his breath, looking away for a moment as though for privacy. You waited, not daring to do so much as move. His palms had returned to shield his eyes, but they would do nothing for his thoughts. After a sharp breath he rested an arm atop a bent knee. Head still hung low as the other moved to the ground, fingers sinking into the sharp needles of dry grass. “And you just- you keep throwing yourself into it. How am I supposed to keep you out of detention if you keep doing this shit?”

Of course. Of course he had been. You felt a fool for taking his admission to realise. Unlike you, the Carrows were not fools. It had not been your attempts at slipping away unseen or making yourself unnoticed that had saved you this past month. It had been him. What he had done in order to save your skin, you did not want to know. Your cheeks burned.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t realise that you… I’m sorry.” You had been foolish, and you had hurt him. Cost him God knows what. Your cheeks felt wet when you looked to him again, the cold air drying the salt of tears against the skin. There was nothing harsh about him, not the way people seemed to believe. He was so unlike the life that had been passed to him. Gentle, and kind, and somehow whole. Patched together with all of the pieces of himself still accounted for. It shouldn’t have been possible, yet he sat before you.

He reached out, his palms covering your cheeks, thumbs running beneath your eyes to wipe the salt away. He didn’t blame you, or anyone. He should have, but he didn’t. He tucked you into his side, wrapping his green tartan scarf snug around you as you both leant back against the large oak. 

“Do you at least have any left?” Mattheo whispered against your ear with a grin. Looking down to you, eyes alight with his usual mischief once more. You couldn’t help but grin back as you nodded, his lips moving to capture yours. He lingered against you, gentle and unassuming. There was nothing he wanted from you, no longer anything he wanted you to fix. You’d known it for a while now. Everything else; the drinks and powder and pills - their rush held no light to him. What had once been intertwined was starting to untangle. It would take time, but you would become whole again, and then you could be with him - without the rest of it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Theo’s eyes were on Mattheo as soon as he had entered the dorm. As though he had purposely left dinner early so that he might get Matt in private. Theo didn’t have to speak, it all lay there; he’d been looking at Matt that same way all evening. And in fairness, Mattheo supposed, they hadn’t done much to cover the smell. But that wasn’t what this was about, not exactly.

“I didn’t give it to her.” Matt spoke plainly, throwing his potions textbook down on his bedside table without a care “She gave it to me this time, actually.” He didn’t know why he had said it. He knew it would only anger Theo, more than he already was.

“Bullshit.” Theo glowered from where he leaned upon his desk, “It’s always you.” Matt would have been more hurt if it hadn’t have been true.

“That’s not fucking fair man.” Mattheo sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed to face his friend. He began lazily untying his laces, having heard these sentiments from Theo before. Quite frankly he was growing tired of it; the constant overstepping. “Things aren’t good right now-”

“You made them that way.” There was a weight to Theo’s words; an implication. One that held Matt implicit in beliefs that he had buried; that chained him to his Father. Theo didn’t notice the set of his jaw change, didn’t notice him stop untying his laces - only decided to cut deeper. “You got her hooked when you should have helped her.”

“I am helping her.” Matt stiffened, eyes alight as the words left him. He knew where the lines rested; what was his fault and what wasn’t. He spent half his life trying to figure them out. He had a plan, to fix this. 

“She looks like shit.” Theo spat, coming to stand before him. The air in the room seemed to drop in temperature, a chill slicing through Mattheo as he met Theo’s gaze, unwavering. 

“We’re getting through this together.” He tried not to doubt it as he said it. They would clean up, together. They just needed time, he was sure they were close. They had to be.

“No. You’re driving each other into the ground.” Theo stated plainly, his voice low. “And when she gets too far down, it will be your fault.” Theo stepped back, eyes burning into Mattheo. He took a few steps back, before turning away. “Clean your shit up,” Theo mused as a bag of powder landed before Mattheo’s feet, “it’s getting all over everything.”

Taglist: @theodorenottswifeyy @obsessedwithceleste @lenoraslament @mayamonroem @simp-for-fantasy @bruisedbbby

Thank you for your love and patience, getting back to inboxes now. You are all incredible <3

[marsbutterfly]

amab rockstar hanji🫣

In The Eyes Of The Public

a/n: i've been meaning to write a male/amab! hanji fic the longest time and he has been stuck on my mind lately so lmao here you go.

warnings: nsfw, amab! hanji, he/him pronouns for hanji, rockstar! au, fem! reader, kissing, they swear a lot, fingering, licking, nipple play, semi-public sex, not beta read (we die like men <3) word count: 3k | ao3 version! | wattpad version!

"Rockstar Hanji Zoe, from the popular band No Name!, has been spotted around town with purple marks on his neck! At this time, he refuses to give a statement."

"No Name star has been spotted walking around with a Promise Ring on his finger. Fans and reports have been speculating who the lucky person might be that has been wearing the other half of said ring, but no leads were found at the time."

"After last night's concert, fans are claiming that Hanji Zoe, the guitarist of the hit "No Name" Rock Band, lifted his eye covers to wink at a random person in the audience. It is a known fact that the band members are not allowed to do such a thing, so rumors have it that he did it towards a... special someone."

"Alright! You guys have been an amazing crowd, but this is our last song of the night!" Levi says, his voice is hoarse from singing for the past three nights in a row, his face covered in sweat as he takes off his blazer. The fangirls in the crowd cry out his name desperately, their voices even more strained than his as they reach their hands up, desperately begging and hoping for a chance to touch him.

As Miche begins hitting the drums, another horde of fangirls' scream fills your ears. They hold posters with pictures of him surrounded by hearts, messages that range from "you're amazing" to "WE LOVE YOU!" to "(678) 999 - 8212" and you can't help but be a little concerned about this specific girl giving away her own personal phone number like this at a concert.

Finally, your eyes land on Hanji and your heart skip a beat. For the past three nights, you have been going to the concerts, enough for the security guards to nod at you once they notice your presence in the crowd. Unlike Levi and Miche's, Hanji's fangirls would usually be naked from the waist up, his name written across their chest as they cry out for his. You take a look around for a second and notice that more than a few girls were now wearing a version of Hanji's promise ring, fantasizing about being the lucky girl who gets to wear the real other half.

You analyze Hanji's every move, the way his fingers go through the guitar strings, the way his hair flows as he jerks his body forward, his energy never fading no matter how exhausted he is after such a long day. The way he bites his lip as he does the final jump of the night and the way he walks out of the stage carrying his guitar.

Tightly, you cling onto the lanyard of your VIP pass, a nervous sensation in your stomach as you try your best to make sure none of the fangirls catch you sneaking in. By the time you reach the big, metal doors, the security guard smiles playfully, the whole crew already aware of who you are and what exactly you are doing backstage. His reaction is enough to cause your face to heat up and you look down, avoiding his and everyone else's gaze.

It feels like all eyes are on you, like you are in the center of the stage, a massive spotlight lit directed on top of you and you are naked. Your hands tremble slightly and you can barely swallow the thick coating that rest on your throat. But all of your fear and nervousness slowly melts away as you spot him in the middle of the dressing room.

The eye bandages coming right off once the three are out of the view of the public. A water bottle in one of his hands while the other holds a towel that he uses to wipe the sweat of his forehead, the earpiece hanging around his neck as he laughs at something stupid Miche said.

"Did you see the girl with the phone number?" Miche says, pouring his own water bottle on the back of his neck, the drumsticks hanging from his back pocket, "I definitely saved that poster, she was cute as fuck."

"Dude, that is so weird," Levi comments, his voice strained as he uses a nebulizer, his voice strained and he knows he isn't supposed to talk but the idea of making fun of Miche is just too tempting to resist. "Did you see my girls? They were reaching for me, like I was some sort of God or something."

"Shut the fuck up, please," your lover says. The light from the dressing room shining on your promise ring as you walk towards the three men. A bright smile immediately forms on Hanji's face the moment he sees you, his arms rapidly wrapping around your waist as he lifts you off the ground, spinning you in his arms, "my princess is here!"

You can't help but giggle, your eyes traveling towards the other two people who stand in the vicinity of your hug. Levi playfully shoves his finger down his throat while Miche laughs, they always have the exact same reaction, to the point where you can't even be mad or embarrassed anymore. Maybe a tiny bit annoyed.

Hanji hooks his fingers on the edge of his shirt, immediately pulling the cloth over his head and throwing it on the ground. The piece of clothing is so wet that it makes a splash sound as soon as it hits the ground, a few drops splattering around and you can hear Levi grunting.

"Could you be any more fucking disgusting?" He rolls his eyes, pointing directly at the shirt. Hanji looks at him for exactly three seconds before clearing his throat and pretending to get ready to spit on it, "NO! DON'T FUCKING DARE!"

You and Miche find yourselves laughing at the scene, the blonde man handing you a bottle of blue gatorade and you thank him silently. The two of you never really talked all that much, but have always looked out for each other. So as you silently enjoy each other's presence in what is supposed to be a calm environment, Hanji and Levi continue to bicker in the background.

"It's just a shirt, why are you so pissy about it?" Your boyfriend asks as he searches the dressing room for a new shirt, your eyes fixated on his abs and the tattoos on his arms and chest, to the point where Miche has to snap his fingers before your eyes to get you out of your trance. Your face heats up for a second as he winks in response, gently nudging your ribs.

"Because you're fucking gross, dude," Levi's strained voice cracks as he continues to complain, his fingers gently rubbing the sides of his throat. Hanji can't help but roll his eyes as he finishes putting a clean shirt on and grabbing a water bottle from the mini-fridge before making his way back to you. By the way he is being followed, both you and Miche can tell that Levi wants to keep arguing, so the two of you rush to action.

"C'mon, bro, let's go see what today's girls had in stock for us," the taller man says, wrapping his arm around the shorter one's shoulders and quickly nudging him away from Hanji before things escalate even more.

On your end, your voice is soft and your hand rests on his chest, "Sunshine, how about we go back to the hotel?" You suggest, desperately trying to get him out of this situation before him and Levi ended up getting physical. You know all too well how the two of them can be. He sighs.

"We're gonna start heading back to the hotel, we'll meet you guys there?" Hanji says, using another towel to dry off the sweat off of his hair. At this point, his band members aren't exactly paying attention to him anymore, so the two of them just nod, going through the hundreds, if not thousands of gifts that were thrown onto the stage during tonight's show.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, the two of you begin making your way towards the subterranean parking garage where a black, bulletproof car would be waiting. There are three bodyguards in front of you in the elevator, two that you have met before and a new one in training. You want to focus on getting into the vehicle as quickly as possible but your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Hanji's hand sliding up your skirt and squeezing your ass.

A silent yelp escapes your lips and you glare at him, only to find an amused expression on his face. With his free hand, he places his index finger in front of his lips, shushing you and making sure you wouldn't even think about making any sort of noise.

As you reach the ground level, your heart is racing in your chest like a cheetah after its prey. When Hanji pulls his hand away from your ass, you nearly whine in disappointment and hope he didn't notice, but by the look in his eyes, you can clearly tell he knows exactly the effect he has on you.

Once the three bodyguards make sure you are all settled in the car and nothing is wrong, they gently pat the hood of the vehicle, letting the driver know you are all settled and ready to begin your ride back to the hotel. There is a tinted window divider separating the two of you and the driver, and a few bottles of liquor sitting on the small compartments next to you. You look around mesmerized, almost as if it is the first time you have ever been in a car like this.

You are pulled away from your thoughts when you feel your boyfriend's arm wrapping around your shoulder, "an innocent and caring action," you think to yourself, but it doesn't last long. Before you notice, Hanji's hand is already taking hold of your left breast over the shirt, the action alone earns a small moan out of you.

"H-Hanji..." His name falls from your lips with ease, leaving behind a sweet taste that could only be compared to your favorite candy. He smirks.

"Can't wait, princess," he whimpers softly, his fingers slowly but firmly traveling down your body and finding their way inside your panties, that devilish smile stamped on his face like he just struck gold, "you're already so wet for me."

You cry out softly, your body instinctively moving closer to his, his hand grabbing hold of your right thigh and placing it on top of his legs before returning to your breast, freely showing your most private parts to anyone who might see. Luckly for the two of you, the windows are completely blacked out, so privacy is not an issue at the moment, but it's not as if the two of you are even paying attention to it.

He starts off slow, only one finger at first and only up to the second knuckle. His gaze is hungry, like he is ready to devour you whole, but he takes it slow, wanting to make sure you are ok with what he is doing. You nod, giving him permission to continue, to do more, oh so much more, but he doesn't change his pace.

"I... I need to hear you say it," he whispers, almost a nervous edge to his voice. You smile softly, nuzzling your face against his neck and whimpering, your hips moving forward slightly as you grind yourself against his finger.

"More... Please, Hanji," you whimper, desperately calling out to him, giving him the permission he has been desperately craving. Those three words are all that it takes for him to pick up his pace, adding a second finger as he continues to move them around inside of you, making sure you can clearly feel how thoroughly he is touching you.

You cry out for him, whimpering his name like it's a prayer. The hand that isn't busy with your pussy has now found its way inside your shirt, pulling it up slightly and revealing your nipples to him. With his index and middle finger, Hanji pinches the small bud, twisting it around ever so gently while his dominant hand continues to focus on making you feel good.

His lips hungrily meet yours, trying to keep your moans contained. You can see his cock twitching inside of his pants, how desperately he needs to be inside of you, but you also know how much he is enjoying this, so you keep your hands to yourself.

You look down for a second and you can clearly see his fingers moving, his promise ring nearly disappearing inside of you now that he has added a third finger as the very tip of his digits makes contact with your cervix. Desperately, you try not to cry out, you try not to get the driver's attention as Hanji continues to fuck you with his hand. Your eyes are closed shut, to the point that it nearly hurts but, even then, you can tell he is pleased with himself, that stupid smirk is still on his lips.

"You sound beautiful, baby," he whispers, his fingers pulling out from inside of you before they come back inside deeper than before, earning a yelp out of you, "shhh, shh baby, be a little quieter for me, ok?" He whispers and you want to curse him, knowing damn well he is doing all of this on purpose.

"F-fuck you," you whimper, your head leaning back onto the seat as you close your eyes shut, "you want be to be quiet or do you want to h-hear me?"

Hanji snorts slightly, his fingers picking up in speed, curling and spreading inside of you in a desperate attempt to hear you crying out his name. He purrs for a second before responding, "call for me, but do it quietly."

You nod, your body already beginning to tighten around his fingers. While his digits work inside of you, he brings his thumb up to your aching clit, adding an additional layer of pleasure. His free hand continues to squeeze and twirl your nipples as his lips continue their attack on your neck. You look like a mess, coming undone beneath his touch while a few flashes from paparazzi's cameras come from outside.

"They can't see us," he whispers, knowing you are worried about it, "I made sure of it. So, let yourself go for me, my princess."

With those simple words, the simple calling you of that pet name, it's like a wave of pleasure washes over you. Your hips buck upwards towards his fingers and your back arches against the seat, you can't help but cry out his name, no matter how quiet you try to be, you are certain the driver and any other cars around you are able to hear the desperation in your voice as you come.

"Hanji!!!!!" His name is like a lifeline, you cling to it as if it is the only thing keeping you afloat. Your voice nearly shatters as the waves of pleasure wash over all of your senses. His grip on you is tight, holding you in place as he is afraid you might actually collapse to the ground, his fingers still working inside of you, fighting a battle against your body as it tightens so desperately that it nearly pushes him out against your will.

But it's the way your hair is now glues to your face, a tear of pleasure streaming down your cheeks that does him in. His grip on you in nearly painfully tight and he is scared it might leave a mark, but he can't control himself. Seeing you in this messy state, for and because of him, is enough to send him over the edge as well, painting the inside of his tight jeans.

"Fuck..." He curses under his breath, his face buried against the side of your neck, "oh, you did so good, princess."

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out, leaving an empty sensation behind. You want him again. You want more. You want to feel his fingers grabbing your breasts, his lips peppering your skin with kisses and his cock throbbing inside of you. You want him, all of him. Desperately, ardently, urgently.

As he is about to wipe your essence away on his shirt, you grab his wrist. He shoots you a confused look, which slowly morphs into desire and finally lands on a look of surprise, a small whimper exiting his throat as his eyes can't seem to focus on anything that isn't you.

You part your lips, taking his digits into your mouth. Your warm tongue swirls around them, your face burns as you taste yourself against his skin but your eyes remain focused on his nevertheless. The way he blushes and cries out softly, or the way he is already hardening in his wet pants once more. You don't stop until there is no amount of your essence left on him, only your saliva.

The two of you cling to each other, panting for what feels like forever but couldn't have been longer than a minute or two. Before either of you are ready, you arrive at the hotel the band has been staying, the entrance surrounded by paparazzies who already attempt to get a small peak inside the car.

Hanji sighs, pulling away from you as the two of you fix your clothing. He looks down at the area between his legs, analyzing just how much of a mess he's made. "Can I borrow your jacket?"

You chuckle and hand him the clothing item, "make sure the knot of the sleeves is covering perfectly what you need to keep hidden." In response, Hanji rolls his eyes, a muffle "yeah, yeah" coming out of his mouth.

Once the two of you are settled, he takes your hand, "I will never ask you to come out in public with me. Not until you are ready."

You immediately shake your head, smiling gently as his free hand touches the knob, "Let's do this."

"No Name Guitarist finally spotted with new girlfriend. How long have they been together? Who is she? Here's everything you need to know!"

"Fans torn in half between being heartbroken and happy as new girlfriend of Hanji Zoe finally shows her face."

"Mystery Girl who stole the heart of rockstar Hanji Zoe finally revealed, and she is just as pretty as you would think!"

[edgeray]

*presses my face against your tank* HELLO RAY !!! :D I AM FINALLY HERE !! MY BRAINCELLS HAVE COLLIDED AND PRODUCED A THOUGHT !!

or, er, sort of? more like a vague vibe, but i digress. basically, consider: pining arle. how does she realize her feelings for you? how does she cope? how does her behaviour around you change? does it? what is she thinking the whole time? when would she consider making a move? essentially i would like to see you psychologically pick apart this woman. go as in depth into her brain or inner monologue as you want !!! the set dressing can be canon or an au, i’ll eat it up regardless :)) and as a professional angst writer i know you can write some absolutely monstrous (/pos) yearning and i’m frothing at the mouth thinking about it 🤤🤤🤤 lookin forward to your thoughts but also take your time with it !!! godspeed 🫡🫡🫡

An Unfit Role 

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Oh sev… you spoil me too much. You truly do. Somehow this turned into very ‘Arlecchino is a person'-esque and I don't know how but oh well. I don't know if this answered your questions very well, but hopefully this is what you mean by psychologically picking apart her! Was this enough pining? Content warnings / info - uhh none I think. just a lil bit of angst, 1.4k words

Arlecchino is many things. The Fourth Fatui Harbinger, a Snezynayan diplomat, the head of the House of the Hearth, and simply ‘'Father.’ She takes on many roles, and enforces them with an iron fist, every facade meticulously practiced and rationalized. Perfected as if she were an actor on a stage, every action and step is calculated beforehand. And if external factors or unpredictable variables crop up in the midst of her play? Well, a good actor knows how to improvise. Arlecchino is well aware of her roles, has memorized the lines and drilled through every movement. The Knave has many feats from each character she plays. A flawless performer, in those aspects.

A lover is not a character she can play. Someone who loves. It is a role that she cannot hope to touch, one she cannot imagine assigning herself too. She is far too inexperienced in what it pertains to. Her perception would grossly mischaracterize it, painting a rather crude display of what she knows of but doesn't know. After all, how could one act without an adequate example? No actor would want to showcase a poor impression of an original source material, an actor presents only their most remarkable qualities. A good actor knows what they cannot act, and it is this where her talents reach their limit. It is what her role as a ‘Father’ stems from; this inability to express something far too fragile and flimsy for her to hold. 

Of the few showcases of others playing the role, Arlecchino is knowledgeable enough that they are simply inept showcases. The Tsaritsa, who has shown the capability to act, and yet chooses to conceal her abilities from her audience. Crucabena, an unqualified actor, whose words dripped with far too much venom for the soft-spoken voice that she used. Perhaps Clervie was the only accurate and genuine actor able to play the part, but one cannot appreciate the traits of an unfinished story. And the naive Peruere, who could hardly imitate her counterpart, was maimed by Arlecchino’s own hands. It is here that she learns that the role of a lover earns no applause, because it adds little to the plot, and so it lacks a function in her story.  

Despite this, she finds herself in this scene, where she plays a character unlike her usual, an entirely new character involuntarily thrusted into her by the cruel machinations of her mind. 

It is a subtle thing. First, she was just the Knave to you. But somehow, among your presence, her facade slips, and she dons another character. 

She becomes a character who knows of nothing but the way her sight is captured by a singular person, a character whose dead heart begins to beat, daring to flutter back to life after it was painfully wrenched out of her chest by her favorite story's ending. She becomes acutely aware of this role when her eyes linger on you a moment longer than need be, when she indulges your empty but no less engaging conversations, when she familarizes herself with the particular fauna scent you carry. When she closes her eyes, your smile flashes through her mind, she knows she's fallen. 

An actor knows when to quit, when they misfit the character they're performing. And yet her mind remains stubborn. Acting a role one does not fit will only damage the actor's reputation, and she intends on abandoning it. But it is difficult for her to dismiss how much she yearns for a warmth that the blood flames in her veins cannot bring. It is difficult to deny that she is not momentarily blinded and stunned by your beaming expression, even when you are not looking at her. It is increasingly more difficult to control the pulsing underneath her skin. This is a character she cannot control, instead, it often feels that the character controls her. 

It is an unseemly, disgusting appearance for her. If it were physically possible, she would plunge her very own cursed, clawed hands into her chest, to grasp onto this fickle, volatile organ and crush it just to exhaust the remaining embers of a futile hope. If only it were as simple as that. Love is far too much of a complicated role for her, and yet it is somehow inescapable. Some sort of torment placed onto her by the archons. 

She can long, she can reach, she can prance around you, but never can she touch. For love imprints its scorch marks deeper than any weapon or assault. One of the lessons her story has concluded to. 

So, instead, she reduces its role to a minor character. She lets her stares remain, but she observes you from a distance. She does not dawdle a second longer besides you if she needn't be. She dresses the role of a lover as an observer. Everything she touches with these wretched, blackened hands soon turns into nothing but embers and ashes, and so the only way that you will remain is away from her.

On her desk, sits a vase with a single flower. It is your favorite flower, the flower that you smell of. It does not move from its place, nothing is done to it besides being watered. Its stem is so brittle, and the petals are far too easy to wither away.

(It is a reminder, every time she sits at her desk. Oh, how'd she like to stroke the patels with as much tenderness as she could muster. How'd she like to cradle it in her hands, this source of life, despite being so delicate, is so beautiful. How'd she like to be able to wake up everyday, and view upon this blossoming flower. But she is not a gardener. She knows nothing of how to make a flower bloom.) 

Humans are the only viable actors for the role of a lover. A curse is not. 

(In her dreams, sometimes you are in place of Clervie. Yet, like Clervie, the only moment she is able to cradle you is when her sword impales you. She will not let another flower wilt, she will not burn another flower.)

It is why you baffle her. Why do you gaze upon her with that expression, as if her claws are not one one more inch from piercing your skin and ripping into your flesh? How do you take her hands in yours, somehow slotting them as if they were always meant to, when they’re soiled with vulgar blood? Her cutting words and sharp tongue, how do they not dissuade you? How do you see her blackened skin, and not be driven away by such a mark of impurity and depravity? 

How could you not tell that she is improper for the role that you seek?

She wonders if a flower is a poor description of you. She wonders if you are instead a Sundew ensnaring a spider, unwilling to let it escape. No, perhaps that is not fitting for you, because you are unaware how effortlessly she can char you–unaware of the imminent danger that comes with keeping such a venomous creature.

Arlecchino is many things. She is a coward, if only for you. She cannot abandon her role, but she cannot perform better, floating in the state of inadequacy that she so despises. Playing a lover makes her foolish, and it is a compromising role. 

She is foolish, but she is despicable. She is selfish. And though she is perfect actor, even performers must fail to succeed. One day, her mental will and patience crumbles. She requests you into her office, your doe-eyed expression widens when she gives you the flower that sits lone in a glass vase on her desk. She tells you that you plague her thoughts, every feeling and emotion is muddied when they concern you, a culmination of things not within her grasp, not within her control. 

It is your performance that finally teaches her what she lacked before: playing the role of a lover requires another. It is a role dependent on another character, otherwise it cannot succeed. It matters not how experienced one is with the other, as long as the characters are committed to it.

There is another lesson that she learned from you.

“I cannot act as a lover.”

“Why must you act to love me?”

Love is a fickle, unpredictable thing. There is no words to be practiced, no actions to be scripted. 

Arlecchino is many things. A lover may be one of them. 

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

i can't stop thinking about Hawks getting pissed during an interview where another pro hero makes a remark about how Hawks pretty little sidekick could do so much better at their agency,,, and he has to sit there and play nice but once it's over hes allllllllllll over her,,,,, yea <3

I was at a con when I got this request and it got me giggling out loud and shit.

This took so long to write because I had writer's block, but I hope you like it <3

Warnings: the tiniest bit of spice, basically just enhanced making out, I tried to make this one a bit more fluffy, language, a random oc because I couldn't really think of any other pro-heroes within the age range who were assholes

Word Count: 2.5k

"And now for our next set of guests, I would firstly like to introduce the primary reason that half of our female viewers tuned in tonight."

The live audience erupted into applause as the pro made his way onto the stage, waving a hand before running it through perfectly-styled golden bangs.

The host, a middle-aged man with strikingly purple hair met him halfway. "Hawks, how are you doing tonight?"

"I'm doing great." He smiled, perfectly aware of how easily that grin could melt hearts. "Happy to be here."

"We're happy to have you!" The host reflected his expression, flashing a set of teeth that were so flawlessly white it was almost unnerving. "And next up, we have another hero slowly climbing up the ranks, the Hound Hero, K-Nine!"

Another man hopped on to the stage, earning another round of cheers from the crowd in front of him.

Umber hair had been wrapped into an unkempt bun, matching the deep shade of his eyes. He could be considered pretty attractive, Hawks supposed, if you could look past the ears poking past the up-do.

Although he didn't know the hero's legal name, nor did he care enough to look it up beforehand, he was ninety perfect positive that it started with the letter 'K.'

Cheesy, but he wouldn't judge. He'd been known to appreciate a good pun.

What he didn't appreciate was that fact that his PR rep had dragged him to another interview on his supposed day off.

Still, he was better than most at keeping up appearances, flashing that heart-stopping grin and throwing in a clever comment when the time called for it.

The host asked the usual questions, the similarities to K-Nine and himself, even though he was sure that those ended at their shared animal-based quirks and the fact that they were both in their mid twenties. Regardless, anyone with eyes would see that the two could barely be considered to be on the same level, something that brought an air of dullness to the interview.

As usual, the winged pro found it difficult to pay attention, leg bouncing in anticipation of how long he would be stuck here. That was one of the less-apparent downsides of being someone who prominently valued speed; sitting through such monotonous situations was quite the feat.

Instead, he droned out the voices as the men across from him started to discuss the importance of sidekicks.

And that's when he heard your name.

He perked up, immediately recognizing that K-Nine was staring in his direction, wolfish grin only accentuated by the sharpened canines poking out from under his lips. "I gotta say, I'm jealous."

Hawks cocked an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Nodding, the brunet allowed the surface-level authenticity to settle for a moment. "Someone as cute as that? I don't know how anyone there manages to get work done."

It was almost unnoticeable, practically unseen over the televised pixels many were watching through. Regardless, the slight tense of his wings in pure irritation was undeniable.

So, that's what this was about.

Forcing a smile, he replied. "Considering our criminal apprehension rates, I think you'd be surprised."

K-Nine leaned back into his chair, haughty expression flickering between the good-hearted playfulness he was supposed to be exuding. "All I'm saying is a pretty little thing like that could do a lot better at my agency."

Golden eyes narrowed slightly as the connotation, fingers digging into the plush sofa as he used every bit of mental strength to will the spite from his tone. "As far as I know, all of my sidekicks are perfect content to work with me. Just like I'm sure yours are happy to work with you. Not sure how they handle all the fleas, though."

The cluster of people in front of him busted into laughter, and he joined in, but the sound seemed to be laced with a soft malice if you managed to listen hard enough.

Playing nice for the public was one of his strong suits, and considering his resilience in a long-term business relationship with Endeavor, he could rightfully say that he was able to handle difficult personalities.

All that tolerance seemed to fly out the window when it came to you.

And the hero across from him either had the social recognition skills of a goldfish, or was too dumb to care.

Regardless, K-Nine turned to the audience. "Come on, I've got a chance, right?"

Some man in the crowd let out a whistle and Hawks felt a compelling urge to hurl a shoe at his nose.

"Speaking of romance," the host verbally silenced the room, making Hawks more grateful than he thought momentarily possible, "I've got to ask, anyone special worthy of a mention?"

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief, the inquiry signaling the closure of the interview, which had seemingly gone on for a few decades at the very least.

It was always like this, the same question would be asked, and then he'd give the same bullshit-answer about the love from his fans being more than enough.

Fuck, how great would it be if he threw your name into the mix.

That'd shut that arrogant mutt up real quick, that's for sure.

But he'd keep his mouth shut, if not for his own benefit, but for yours.

With your take-down rate, it was blatantly how talented you were as a hero and, even if it wouldn't be many, Hawks would be damned if anyone questioned your acceptance into his agency.

In all honesty, he had initially recognized your power and intelligence, traits that had gotten you the job in the first place.

It was in those first few months that he had begun to realize how much he liked you, how much he liked to watch you kick ass, or how pretty you were, even if it was preposterously early in the morning.

So he'd stay quiet, if only to keep a few impudent naysayers off your back.

Not to mention that you might wring his neck.

Instead, Hawks sat simmering with annoyance on that plush sofa until the cameras were cut and he was forced to shake hands, first with the host, then with his fellow interviewee for the night, the latter receiving the tiniest bit more squeeze.

The night was cold but he opted to fly back to his agency, allowing the chill to tangle through his hair and hopefully disperse some of the vexation he desperately needed eradicated.

Besides, driving would mean lesser access to his office skylight, which also meant a long-ass elevator ride that he didn't have time for.

It was unlocked, thankfully, and he slipped into the room. He moved to shrug off his jacket, but paused, double taking at the light blooming under the thin fracture between his door and the marble flooring.

Obviously, he wasn't scared. Anybody would have to be pretty idiotic to attempt robbing a place belonging to the number 2 hero, and even more so to leave a light on.

Regardless, he stayed quiet, hoping to avoid an unnecessary interaction with a coworker he didn't have the patience for, and crept around the corner, expression softening a bit at what he saw.

It was you.

You were huddled over your desk, typing furiously at some important looking document. The computer screen illuminated your features, casting a dull glow over the otherwise unlit room.

Hawks recognized the soft tense of your eyebrows every few seconds, the way that you would pause to collect your thoughts before issuing that recognizable click-clack of your keyboard in focused chunks of writing.

He leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched you work with a fond grin gracing his features.

After a while, you sighed, taking a moment to rotate the stiffness beginning to take place in your neck. Your gaze lazily flit over the room and you jumped. "Fuck!"

"Wow, that took you forever, sweetheart," he sighed, tilting his head in a teasing inquiry. "Do we need to work on awareness skills with the other sidekicks?"

"If you're gonna keep lurking behind corners like the boogeyman, then probably." You rolled your eyes, allowing his petname to settle in your mind. "And I thought I told you not to call me that during work."

"Why? Because you get all blushy and embarrassed?" He pushed off the wall, strolling over and nestling his head on your left shoulder.

You tensed a bit as he arms snaked over that of the chair, hands wrapping around your torso. "I don't."

The hero laughed, pulling at your cheeks like he could feel the heat creeping into him. "Work hours are over anyway. Which means that you shouldn’t be here."

"I need to finish this report." You nodded to the screen as if to prove your point, eyes narrowing as he continued to bury his face into your neck. "Are you okay?"

He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he backed away. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You get extra clingy when you're upset. Did something happen at the interview?"

So, you hadn't seen it.

"How dare you," the faux-hurt lacing his tone was a stark contrast to the satisfaction he felt knowing that you were close enough to recognize some of his physical tellers. Still, you didn't need to know that. "I do wonderful in interviews."

You smiled and he felt his heart melt. "Well, I'm just going to have to check and make sure."

Saving the work on your current tab, you moved your mouse to open up a new one before finding YouTube, which would most likely already have clips of the program uploaded. You were barely hovering over the search bar when the man all but threw himself on to your lap, arms latching themselves around your waist. "Don't. There were so many annoying people there."

"I thought you had an avian quirk," you groaned, arms straining as you tried to detach his. "If you had boa constrictor powers then I would've liked to know."

He glanced up, eyes wide and oddly reminiscent of a child waking up his parents in the middle of the night. "I'll let you stay and work overtime if you let me hang out here for a while. It's been a very long day."

"Oh, I'm sure it has." You rolled your eyes, sighing in exasperation.

Despite the sarcasm, you succumbed to his request, letting go of his annoyingly firm grasp in favor of continuing to finish your report. Hawks found himself relaxing into your thighs, overly hyper brain surprisingly calmed with the muted tapping of your keyboard.

After a few more minutes, you shifted, pushing his unsuspecting form onto the floor and giving a laugh at the pout overcoming his face. "Bathroom. I'll be two minutes, at the very most."

It was, in fact, just past one-hundred and twenty seconds by the time you returned. The hero was currently taking up occupancy in your swivel chair, oblivious to the confusion at which you glaring at your phone with.

"Do you somebody named Kano Kirisaki?" You asked.

"Who?" He asked without looking up.

"The Hound Hero. He's somewhere in the late sixties on the charts, I think?" Despite your career as a pro-sidekick, you weren't exactly overly concerned with the rankings.

"Oh," he replied, ignoring the urge to add a 'called it.' A tic of annoyance threatened to emerge on his forehead, but he did his best to ignore it. "What about him?"

"I just got a text. The guy said that you gave him my number. Is that true?"

That made him pause.

"He said what?" The vexation simmering in his copper gaze was downright terrifying, only extenuated by the slow upturn of his chin as his eyes met yours.

"Apparently not." You made a beeline for the door, device still in hand and fingers typing away. "I'll just let him know that-"

Something whizzed past your face and you came to an abrupt halt, feeling the breath of air over your cheek as the object whirled by and just barely missed you.

You blinked, taking a moment to recognize what had just happened. You hadn't been hit, but the object previously in your hand?

Less lucky.

Spinning around in shock, you were met with the stupefied face of Hawks, who was currently staring in horror at the item stuck in the wall and the feather protruding out of it.

He just skewered your phone.

You turned again, silently walking over and yanking the hardened plume out before inspecting the damage. The screen had been shattered, the back cameras also blown to bits from the harsh impact.

"Oh, fuck." The hero stood, movements quick and panicked as he ran over to you. "Oh, shit. I am so sorry."

"What the fuck?" The sentence was less of an aggressive statement, more of an actual, bewildered question. Seeing as how completely flabbergasted you were, it was almost hard to be genuinely angry for the first few seconds.

"I swear, I don't know why I did that," he assured, running a hand through his hair in alarm. "But I'll get you a new one. That model was kinda old anyways…"

You scoffed. "Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to get a replacement. How wonderful that you happened to impale this one."

His arm caught yours as you turned to leave, forcing your line of sight to meet his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Against your best efforts, you felt your chest lighten a bit at the tenderness he was regarding you with. It was almost impossible to stay cold when the guy you had been admiring for weeks was looking at you like that. "I just don't... I just need you to know that you can be honest with me. I don't know what's wrong, but if there's anythi-"

Your eyes shot open as his mouth smashed against yours, taking a pause before fluttering to a close.

One of his hands curled into your hair, the other finding its way around your waist. His kiss traveled over your jaw, trailing until it was above your collarbone.

With his enhanced senses, it was easy to tell what areas you were most sensitive. He relished in every pleasured breath, the way your heart rate would speed up when he bit down ever so gently.

It took a tangible amount of self-control to keep himself from jumping you when the smallest whine fell from your lips. Instead, he lifted his leg in between your thighs, watching your form falter as a spark of warmth shot through your abdomen.

You around an arm across his shoulder, an attempt to steady yourself as you watched him pull away, arrogant grin gracing his features and eyes glowing softly. Their soft luminescence was nothing less than beautiful and you silently questioned why you hadn't scheduled more late night patrols. His fingers grazed underneath your shirt, tickled the skin of your waist with their gentle warmth.

The breath had escaped your lungs, but it was nearly impossible to keep the smile from your features. "What the fuck happened in that interview?"

Hawks chuckled, touch brushing over the small mark on your collarbone that he had left behind. His heart jumped at the thought of leaving more, leaving zero questions about who you belonged to. "Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetheart."

It was less than a day by the time you got your new phone.

[crguang]

random violinist kafka x her pianist accompaniment reader thoughts that came to me out of nowhere, but i wanted to write this down just because. there’s something about estranged childhood best friends/not quite sweethearts reconnecting through mundane moments that is dear to me. something short and sweet basically.

also kafka’s an olympic yearner. what a loser.

//

“Come with me.”

“Come… with you,” you repeat the words slower to make sure you’ve heard them correctly. 

Kafka only smiles in response. You find yourself looking at her shaded face on the seat next to you, half of it rhythmically highlighted by the soft yellow of street lights as the car zooms through empty streets. She meets your gaze easily, and you think you see something incrusted in the depths of her pale pink irises, but you’re not sure of its nature. Her attention is intense, unwavering. She gives you time for her invitation to make sense in your head and for a moment, you simply stare at each other. You with confusion creasing your brow, her with openness you’re learning actually hides a deeper layer underneath it. The ends of her hair sway in the light wind caused by the partially open back windows. Her coat rests meticulously folded on her lap, her hands on top of it, her posture reflecting the patience she’s currently demonstrating. Her shoulders are exposed by the low cut velvet shirt she’s wearing tucked into dark high-waisted slacks. Your eyes lower to her sharp collarbones and the smooth slope of her neck for a fleeting instant. Without jewelry, her clear skin is the main attraction. Her body is slightly angled towards where you sit, an empty space between you that feels smaller than it is. 

In the driver’s seat, Blade is quiet with one hand on the steering wheel. He usually is, Kafka told you, don’t mind him. He’s shy. She winked at you beneath her sunglasses. Two brief thoughts came to mind at the time; she often wears those glasses around you, and she’s probably lying. Blade is a nice guy, his bond with Kafka shows through his implicit understanding of her needs and her awareness of his moods despite him barely uttering a word. It takes another minute of silence for you to remember that she's waiting for an answer. 

“You want me to come with you to the opera?”

Kafka nonchalantly shrugs one shoulder. “I have two tickets.”

And no one else to go with? You almost want to ask but you keep your lips shut in the end. It would be rude, and regardless of her answer, you wouldn’t like it. 

“You don’t seem enthusiastic. Is opera not your “thing” anymore?”

A sound leaves your mouth, breathy and half-amused. “No, I still like opera.”

“Oh. Are you busy, then? You can say no, you know. I won’t take it personally.”

You glance at her before turning in your seat to look ahead of you. Your fingertips drum on your thigh, you don’t notice Kafka’s gaze drifting to their absentminded fidgeting. You take an inaudible breath.

“I’m not busy, just surprised,” you admit. You can feel her eyes burning into you, so you turn your head towards the window and the passing skyscrapers outside. “I haven’t gone to one in ages. I don’t think I even have any clothes that won’t get me nasty side eyes from the audience filing into the building.”

Kafka’s quiet chuckle makes your lips twitch. “Is that all? You can borrow something from me.”

“And subject myself to your fussing every time I pick up a drink? No, thanks. You don’t say anything but your eyes definitely do.”

“Even better; let’s go shopping.”

The pleased tone of her voice has you tilting your head to look at her again. The corners of her eyes crinkle with satisfaction as if you’ve already accepted her plans to go out into the city. Your stomach clenches pathetically at the soft lines of her face and you swallow, your throat suddenly drier than you remember it to be a minute ago. 

“Buying an outfit just for the opera is such a ‘you’ thing to do.”

“Well, why not? There might be more in the future.”

The pause following her words stretches on for a minute too long. Kafka doesn’t avert her gaze but her smile is frozen on her lips and loses some of its authenticity. She doesn’t add anything else, it would make her blunder even more evident. The partial darkness of the car obscures her thoughts from you— not that you would be able to read them otherwise. You’ve been making progress, there are less charged silences between you now and you’re able to share her vicinity without any ugly thoughts rearing their head in your mind. You start to consider the implications behind her (hopeful?) statement, then quickly catch yourself overthinking things. Kafka goes to the opera in her free time and has been doing so for a long time, before she walked back into your life, of course this one wouldn’t be her last show. And it might not be the last time she throws a casual invitation your way because she knows you enjoy the art as she does and she might find herself without someone at her arm again. That’s all. You’re making things awkward with your lack of reply— again. 

“Sure, we can go shopping,” you accept without further thought in an attempt at filling the quiet.

Kafka takes a few seconds to respond, then nods once. She reaches for her phone in the handbag next to her and opens her calendar, scrolling through times and dates for some time. You take the small opportunity to exhale long and slow and regain your bearings. You feel like the car interior has shrunk, leaving you stuck between leather seats and the woman next to you. Her perfume effortlessly takes over the enclosed space and settles in your lungs with every inhale. You’ll probably smell it long after you’ve gotten out of the car; it’s smoky like burned tobacco, with sweet floral notes to balance it out, and so perfectly Kafka that you can’t imagine the same scent on anyone else. You watch her check her full calendar for an opening before the show in two weeks. Color coded events fill the screen every day of the week and you’re brusquely made aware of just how busy her life is. You were fooled by the small amount of time she dedicates to you, because the hours seem to stretch on whenever she’s near and looking at you with that same something you can’t yet place. Seeing her now, looking for a free morning or afternoon in a sea of important business, you understand that she’s been very generous with the time spent with you. You try not to feel any sort of way as the rift between the life you have and the one she lives grows a bit deeper. For a minute you think she’ll go back on her word, understandably so, and tell you that she actually can’t spend two precious hours wandering around with you in the city in search of decent clothes for a three hour opera that you’ll only see once. Then she deletes a pink colored event in her calendar and turns back to you.

“Does Thursday afternoon work for you? Between one and four.”

You blink. “Uh. Yeah. It should.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up.”

The car slows to a stop and you look out of the window next to Kafka’s head to see the large front window of the record store you spent most of your days working at.The lights inside are shut, unsurprising considering the late evening, which means Serval has closed the shop before leaving for the day. Your apartment is right above it, a small but cozy space you found when you were looking to move out of your parents’ house. It was only luck that you found a job at the same time. Blade doesn’t say anything as he unlocks the doors and Kafka regards you for a moment longer while you adjust your jacket over your shoulders. The sudden ringtone of her phone startles you, indicating a phone call, but Kafka simply glances at the contact name on the screen— Birdie— before refusing the call. She meets your eyes as you speak.

“Hanging up on her? Swan won’t be happy.”

Kafka smiles. “She’ll live.”

You laugh, her eyes narrow imperceptibly at the sound. You make sure you have your house keys and your phone before shoving them back in your jacket pocket. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the car door, hesitating for a few seconds too many, then meet Kafka’s gaze for the last time tonight. 

“...Goodnight,” you say quietly, the farewell softer than it probably should be. “Thanks for the ride. See you Thursday.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

She doesn’t say anything else, so you take the hint and wish goodnight to Blade as well. You get out of the car, shutting the door behind you. The air is cool, and you realize how warm it was in the car now that you’re facing its crisp winds with no protection from the glass windows of the vehicle. You shove your hands in your pockets, making your way to the door right next to the record store building, and are stopped in your tracks by Kafka’s voice behind you.

“Goodnight.”

You turn around, but you only catch a glimpse of wine-red hair before the car pulls back onto the streets. All you see is the license plate number and the vibrant rear lights as Blade drives away from your apartment. You stand there, watching the car become smaller until it turns at an intersection and completely disappears from view. You're not aware of the tiny smile that stretches your lips, you unlock the door to your apartment building and step inside.

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.