#like its not my usual cup of tea but its not terrible or anything . i think a lot of the hate it gets online is mostly because ppl think its

[meanderingwistera]

Love, Magic and other things gone wrong

Summary - After trying multiple dating apps you give up and try to love yourself. A love potion should help with that. Nothing can go horribly wrong and drag the cute guy next door into it…right?

Pairing - Suguru Geto x Reader

Content - Fluff, smut, oral f receiving, p i v sex, mostly fluff tho, Witchy! Reader, magical accidents, love potions, artist! Geto, he has TATTOOS, pet names

Word count - 9k

A/N - This is my first full fic that I am posting on here from Ao3! If you prefer that format it is here!

Your love life is… horrendous, you are even being nice about it.

The last date you had gone on had told you that he just “wasn’t ready for anything serious”, only to turn around and change his status to in a relationship within two days after that. But he was the latest in the line of terrible dates you had gone on within the past two years.

You had tried almost everything but you had come to one conclusion-

“I am going to end up a lonely cat lady!” You whine and lay your head down on the cafe table. Utahime looks down at you over the rim of her mug. Her brown eyes look a bit amused at your horrible situation.

“I really doubt it,” She says and pats your head, “Men just suck.”

You want to argue but you remember one of your dates saying that “if you just lost some weight you would be so hot”, so you just groan instead of saying yes. Men do suck or maybe just the ones you match with on shitty dating apps are.

“What do I do?” You ask and shift your head to the side so you can look up at your friend.

“To be honest, you just need to be comfortable with yourself. Practice self love first, then good men will find you.” She explains and sips her tea.

“Maybe you are right.” You agree, still feeling defeated. “Do you have a quick fix for my self love?”

She snorts, “Are you asking for a love potion?”

“You said it, not me!” You remark with a laugh and sit up.

Utahime rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Give me a few days and I will drop it off, but-” Her face turns serious, “only use a small amount. And I would suggest only drinking it when you are alone and infuse it into something so the effects are minimal. Otherwise you could fall in love with your reflection or someone random.”

You readily nod, how hard could that be?

After you take a little bit of that love potion for a week you see results. You feel better and as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. When you go out you don’t scrutinize yourself for your weight or how you look. Your deep set insecurities fade into the background as you look at yourself. It feels so good.

Today is a quiet day for you. Saturdays are one of your off days so you designated it as a chill day. No big agenda or anything to do, just basking in that fact that you don’t have to do anything, which is the best kind of day.

You wake up at nine-thirty but lay in bed for a half hour before getting up to make breakfast. The sun shines in through your sliding glass door out to the small balcony. It engulfs the morning in a warm glow as you start the coffee pot. Starting breakfast you crack a few eggs into a pan and turn on the stove.

While the coffee brews and you cook your eggs on a low heat, you pull out your tarot deck for a quick morning reading. You usually work mornings so when you have an opportunity for a morning read you feel giddy. The deck is familiar and comfortable in your hands as you shuffle the cards.

After you feel like they are sufficiently shuffled you pull out three cards and lay them face down. You flip the first card and wince. The tower glares up at you as you feel very uncomfortable at its presence.

So it looks like you will be having a crisis, delightful.

“Okay-” You say to yourself and take a deep breath, “let’s see what is going on.”

You flip over the next card to see the ace of cups. That is significantly better than the tower. A new emotional connection but is that before or after the crisis or is that the crisis? You sigh and already feel yourself overthinking.

The last card is flipped and you feel a bit better about all of this. The sun card shines like a beacon of hope in this reading. A calm after the storm, a peace after a time of crisis. It looks like the crisis will happen first, a new emotional connection will somehow be involved but happiness will come after.

You snap a picture of the reading and send it to the group chat with Utahime, Shoko and Yuki.

______

You

Guess who is going to

have a crisis?

Yuki

Don’t you have a crisis

every other week?

Shoko

Don’t be rude

Utahime

Yeah, it’s every two weeks Yuki

You

I don’t know why I am friends

with you guys

Yuki

Because you love us?

______

You roll your eyes at your friends and go back to your eggs.

The rest of your morning and early afternoon go well. You eat your breakfast, work on some personal projects and lay around watching tv. Occasionally you get a text from the group chat but it is mostly about things unrelated to your upcoming crisis.

You are sitting on your couch at about four o'clock, starting a book that you have been putting off reading, when you realize that you haven’t started on dinner yet. It is a bit early but you can feel hunger start to creep in. Putting a bookmark in your place you close the book and get up.

The cabinets are almost bear except for a lone box of spaghetti noodles. You grab it out of the cabinet and set it on the counter. Looking in the fridge you don’t see any sauce so you may have to settle for garlic butter pasta. You see some chicken that you can put in it.

“Score!”

Grabbing out the chicken you put it next to everything else and get to work on your makeshift dinner. You turn on the stove, put the pan on it and cut the chicken. You season the chicken well before put it on the pan to cook.

You are craving more coffee so you put on another pot. In addition to the water you put in a tablespoon of that love potion just for fun. You don’t plan on seeing anyone today so you want to mess with the dose a bit.

Once you have the coffee on you walk out to water your hoard of plants on your balcony. Most of them had been gifts but your favorite is the lavender plant you had been given as a housewarming gift.

You suspect you will have to replant her soon so she can grow better. She is one of the plants you use the most in your teas and recipes because of lavender’s calming qualities. Utahime also uses lavender in her witch stuff so you are technically her supplier.

The sound of another sliding door breaks you out of your thoughts. To your right the sliding door opens and a man steps out with a pack of cigarettes. Both of you look equally shocked to see each other. Then you remember that you are still in your pajamas.

He looks at you and you look back. Trying to break the awkward silence the man gives you a small wave. You quickly wave back before going back to watering your many plants.

Normally you would not care but this man is different. He and his friend had moved in about a year ago. You had immediately noticed him. Maybe it was the hair, tattoos or gauges; but no matter what it was you were hooked.

He was cleverly dubbed, “Hot neighbor guy” in your circle of friends. You kept them updated on all the small details you had picked up about him. Like that he really likes rock music and that his hands are usually stained with paint.

So now you try not to stare at his broad shoulders that are on full display in his black tank top. His side profile is accentuated by the evening sun behind him. You need to be normal, friendly but not too much-

“Why do you have so many plants?”

You immediately jump out of your skin at his sudden question, then smoothly respond,

“What?”

A blush tints your cheeks as you debate running away into the woods and never returning.

This man has the audacity to lean over the rail towards you with a cigarette between his teeth and repeat his question.

“Why do you have so many plants? I always wondered why you had so many.”

“Oh! Most of them were gifts in high school,” You say and stand up straight after you finish watering your last plant, “I had a phase and now feel obligated to keep them alive.”

He chuckles a bit and lights the cigarette, “I get that, I took in a stray once and now I am stuck living with him.”

“Your roommate?” You ask and he nods.

“He has little to no self preservation so I get to save him from himself.”

You laugh and he smiles, his snake bites becoming more prominent on his lips.

“How did you-” You start to say only to be cut off by the smoke alarm screaming at you.

Your chicken is burning.

Not wasting any time you fling open your door and turn off the burner. After you run to the smoke alarm to try to reset it. Only to find that it is too far up the wall for you to reach. Now you were not short but it is ridiculously high up on your wall.

Your quickly thought out plan B was to beat the alarm with a couch cushion. Whether it was to hopefully dislodge the thing from the wall or fan away the smoke you don’t know but what else can you do? Sadly your brilliant idea doesn’t work so you just beat your wall with a cushion and hope it stops soon.

A knock at your door makes you give up on your valiant attempt at stopping the shrieking alarm. With a sense of defeat you walk to the door. Couch cushion in hand you open the front door to see “Hot neighbor guy” at your door. This is probably his first impression of you, a woman who has too many plants and burns chicken, how great.

“Do you need help?” He asks, because of course he is still nice to you, with genuine concern on his face.

“If you don’t mind!” You say trying to be cheerful as your reputation with this guy lies tattered on the ground between you, “If not I will just wait for it to stop.”

The corners of his lips quirk up at your tone. You move aside to let him in, you are then immediately struck by the fact that you haven’t cleaned up your apartment enough for it to be prepared for someone to come over. But it is far too late as he walks to the alarm.

He reaches up, his shirt riding up, to grab the alarm. Your eyes, attracted by the movement, travel down to see a tiger tattoo on his hip. You don’t look at that and you won’t think about it later either. He pushes a button and the alarm goes blissfully silent. You sigh in relief and he chuckles.

“Well, at least you can take care of plants because your prospects of becoming a handyman are slim.” He says with a grin.

“The only thing holding me back is irritatingly high placed smoke alarms, other than that I would do great.” You say back then turn a bit shy as you continue, “Thank you though, is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Well now that the smoke is gone I can smell coffee, can I have some?” He asks you and reaches out his hand, “And I am Suguru by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Suguru,” You respond and take his outstretched hand. His palms are bit rough as he shakes your hand and you introduce yourself.

“And I am happy to share my coffee!” You agree with a smile and turn to go back to the kitchen. He follows you and waits by your island. You grab a mug out of the cupboard for him. “Do you like cream or sugar?”

“No, black will be just fine.” He says and sits on one of the stools.

After pouring the coffee you slide the cup over and he takes it gently. His hands are larger than yours and you see faint patches of dried purple paint.

“Let me go put back the cushion.” You say and walk into the living room. With a soft hum you arrange the cushions in their proper place.

Looking back you see that your work is good and begin to make your way to the kitchen. As you enter the kitchen you come to a halt as you look at the coffee pot. You then realize that you put the love potion into the water for the coffee.

Oh no.

Subtly you glance over at Geto who sips the coffee blissfully unaware of your fuck up. He looks fine? There isn’t any change in behavior so far. So you decide to make yourself some coffee and observe instead of doing anything irrational.

You reach up and get another mug only for Suguru to hand it down to you. His chest is almost against your back as he hands it to you. Your breath hitches slightly as he doesn’t move too far from you as you pour yourself coffee. His hands ghost your waist and you are ninety-nine percent sure that it has kicked in.

What the hell do you do?!

“Your really cute like this.” He says and it’s dangerously low. You shiver at the tone of his voice.

“Suguru?” You ask, trying to act nonchalant and not like you are having a crisis.

“I like the way you say my name.” He says and you turn so you can see him. That was a bad move because he puts his hands on the counter behind you, closing you in.

Your breath is short and your heart is pounding in your chest. Suguru’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your slightly parted lips. He isn’t even discreet about it.

Before you can come up with any semblance of a plan to get out of this predicament your brain shuts off.

Suguru leans in and kisses you. It starts off slow and sweet. His mouth moves against yours softly, like he is savoring the taste of you. You wonder what you taste like to him. He tastes like black coffee, you usually don’t like black coffee but you don’t mind it if Suguru is kissing you.

You lean in, chasing his kiss and his tongue enters your mouth. Moaning a bit you feel his head tilt so he can get further. He swallows up your moans greedily.

Suguru pulls back for just a second so he can turn you both around. You are a little confused about what he is doing until he picks you up and sets you on the island. In the heat of the moment you open your legs so he can slot himself between them.

His mouth crashes back into yours quickly after. You run a hand up into his hair, trying to find purchase as he kisses you like a man possessed. Accidentally you tug and he groans into your mouth. His hands grip your hips tightly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

Suguru moves from your mouth to your neck. He nibbles on your neck and you jolt at the sudden sensation. You begin to grind down as he chuckles against your skin. The cold metal of his snake bites turn you on even more as he kisses where he was biting your skin like a peace offering.

His right hand moves from your hips to your tigh and you remember that you should be pushing him away. This isn’t really him, just a signifect of that potion. Still breathing heavily you push him back. He looks a little confused but doesn’t complain about you push him off.

“I- uh- don’t want to go that far yet!” You squeak out, both your hands on his shoulders. “Not that it is bad in any way-”

Suguru blinks a bit before nodding at your words, “Sorry, I was far too forward.”

“No! Your fine, it just me that is the problem.” You inwardly groan as you use that stupid line. “Are you free tomorrow?”

He seems to think about this before nodding.

“I am free about two if you want to go out?” You suggest to him.

He obviously isn’t in his right mind and you don’t want to take advantage of that. You would feel horrible if you caused him pain. Hopefully he will have snapped out of it by the time for your date rolls around or have forgotten this entirely.

Suguru smiles at you and your legs feel weak, “See you at two then.”

With a quick peck to your lips, and him putting his phone number in your phone, Suguru excuses himself from your apartment, leaving you reeling on your kitchen counter.

You sit there for a second absorbing what happened within the last fifteen minutes of your life. Reaching a hand up you feel your lips that Suguru was kissing just a minute ago.

Hoping down off the counter you feel that your legs are still weak from all that. But that doesn’t stop you from getting to your phone and frantically pressing on Utahime’s contact. She will hopefully know how to help you.

The phone rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey!” She says more excited then you are because of your current situation.

“Hey…” You say cautiously and you can practically hear her eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What happened?” Utahime asks you

“So I might have burnt my chicken talking to ‘Hot neighbor guy’,” Utahime snorts at your opening statement, ���then he fixed my smoke alarm- which was so hot by the way- anyway as repayment I gave him a cup of coffee- which may have that love potion you gave to me infused in it.”

Dead silence.

“How much did he have?” She asks you slowly.

“Enough to furiously make out with me on my counter for five minutes.” You answer quickly.

Utahime groans, “How much did you put into the coffee?”

“Oh!” You say, understanding what she meant now, “I used about a tablespoon.”

“Okay so it should wear off in about a day.” Utahime says with relief.

You check the clock and it is just a bit before five. So you just have to wait until five for it to wear off. Your heart deflates a little at the idea of not going on a real date with him but love potions are cheating in the war that is modern dating.

“That’s good.” You answer, “Also do you think my black crop top looks better with my flare jeans or that cute slit skirt with stars on it?”

You hear a hum on the other end of the line as she thinks, “Skirt would be better since it is getting warmer but I would pair it with a sweater.”

“I agree, also tell Shoko Hi for me!”

“Good luck.” She says and you hang up the call.

Now you just need to survive this date and hopefully the potion will have worn off by then. As long as you play it cool you will past this crisis.

You can totally do that.

Suguru has always been a very calm and controlled person. He prides himself on his restraint and his patience. So he doesn’t understand what just happened. Not that he didn’t want to- but where did that come from?

Suguru had noticed you as soon as they moved in. You had passed by him in the hallway when he was moving his stuff in. He had been so distracted by you and your smile and bright eyes. Satoru laughed his ass off when he almost dropped the box he was carrying in because he was staring at you.

His eyes would always search the hallway for you when he would go to his classes or the studio where he painted most of the time. You would always just be entering your apartment as he would make his way up the stairs. He would always just miss you so when he managed to see you on your balcony he had internally cheered.

And when your smoke alarm went off he practically sprinted across the apartment, out his door and to yours to help you. Satoru had laughed at his mad dash but Suguru didn’t care. He found it endearing that you even offered him a chance to help you.

But after that cup of coffee he felt more desperate for you. Like there was a burning feeling under his skin and the only thing that could help was your touch. His overwhelming need for you and your attention seemed to override all his critical thinking.

Suguru debates pulling his own hair out at the fact he was so close to fucking you on your counter and you didn’t seem confident in pushing him off of you. You probably think he is some fuck-boy trying to get into your pants and he is really ashamed of that.

Slowly he opens the apartment door to an expectant Satoru. He sits on the couch with an amused expression. Debating whether or not to avoid this conversation altogether Suguru walks over to the coffee table where his pack of cigarettes are.

“Sooo” Satoru says with a grin, “when is the wedding?”

Suguru glares at him hard.

Satoru puts his hands up in a placating gesture, “Just asking! She did let you help her right?”

“Yep.” Suguru says, hoping that he doesn’t delve deeper.

But it is never that easy with Satoru.

“And?” He pushes leaning forward in his seat like he is watching a drama.

“I made out with her on her kitchen counter.”

There is a long pause as they stare at each other.

“And you came back, why?”

“I didn’t want her to think that I just want to fuck her.” Suguru says and puts his cigarettes in his pocket, “Most of us give the people we are pursuing a bit more space then you do.”

Satoru scoffs at his comment.

“I give Nanamin space! He seems to even be enjoying my company right now.” He defends himself.

“If that helps you sleep better at night.” Suguru says with a shrug.

“Don’t change the subject!” Satoru squawks.

Suguru sighes and sits down. His best friend’s interrogation will not end soon so he might as well make himself comfortable.

The morning of the date you can’t really settle down.

During the hours of six through nine you wake up five times. Eventually you give up and check your phone. Then for a while you check your phone obsessively for a text saying that the date is off or he is “sick”. But one never comes. Which might be more concerning now that you think about it.

You clean your whole apartment and do all the laundry you have put off for a week. The only thing you haven’t done is wash your windows, which you might do in a minute. Looking at the time you throw the washing the windows idea out the metaphorical window.

The clock reads one and you need to get ready.

Normally when you get ready for a date you feel like you are dressing for a wake. But as you get showered and dressed you feel an underlying giddiness. You listen to more upbeat music as you do your hair and makeup. It is such a 180 turn from usual.

It is probably because it’s Suguru. He seems to be a good person from what you know so far, plus he is an excellent kisser. You try to remind yourself that it might not really be him but you can let yourself just enjoy today and wear it takes you can’t you?

Humming to the random pop song you have on in the background you admire the outfit Utahime suggested and you like it. You are not fully covered up but still warm because of the tights and sweater. It is a tasteful mix of the two and perfect for a first date.

You leave your bathroom and make your way to the living room to put on a pair of small heels. Since he didn’t cancel you decided to take him to a cat cafe downtown, since you don’t have a car you will have to walk so you want to not have your feet hurt. The kitten heels complement both the black and silver of your skirt nicely.

Right on time at exactly two a knock comes at your front door. All the nervous energy hits you as you walk to the door. You take a deep breath before opening your door to see Suguru standing there.

He looks good. A loose band tee hangs off his frame along with an oversized jacket. But the thing that draws your attention is the skinniest skinny jeans known to man that he is wearing. You have seen men wear skinny jeans but not that tight. And you might be very into that.

His long black hair is tied up and away from his face and you can see an undercut. You really want to run your hand over it.

“Hi.” He greets you with a small smile.

“Hi.” You respond but it comes out a bit shyer than you want it too.

“Are you ready?” He asks you and leans an arm on the frame of your door.

“Yes, I just need to grab my purse.” You say a giddiness to your voice.

For a second you leave him there and disappear into your apartment to get your purse. When you return he has moved away from your door and is rocking back and forth on his feet. He immediately stops as you lock and close your door behind you.

“So where are we going?” Suguru asks you as you walk away from your door.

“It is a surprise!” You say and press the down button to summon the elevator.

“How mysterious.” He says with a grin as you enter the elevator.

“I have to keep you interested somehow.” You match his grin as you hit the ground floor button.

“My interest is peaked.”

In the few short minutes that you are leading him downtown Suguru decides he really likes walking behind you. There is something about how you carry yourself that makes him think that he would follow you anywhere. You could lead him into hell and he probably wouldn’t notice it.

Satoru would call him a dog on a leash but he doesn’t mind if it is you.

As the crowd gets more dense as you enter Shinjuku you reach back and grab his hand, “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“I think I could be easily found because of my height, you on the other hand are more at risk.” Suguru teases you and squeezes your hand.

“I could just leave you.” You grumble as he walks faster to catch up with you. And the faint blush on your cheeks doesn’t escape his vision.

The two of you walk hand in hand for a while before you pull him into a cafe. It is smaller than the other stores and restaurants on the streets of Shinjuku. The light brown and cream colored walls give the cafe a cozy feel. But the main attraction is the hoard of cats that are walking around.

He can feel your eyes looking at him, trying to see if he likes it.

“This is a cute place,” Suguru says and looks down at you, “I have never been here before.”

Your eyes light up and his heart stutters in his chest. Suguru feels like he could live on just that expression of yours. He has never been a romantic before, despite his inclination towards art, but you bring out a new side to him.

Suguru wants to paint this expression so he can look at it forever.

His trance is broken as a woman walks up to you. Her blonde hair is tied up and her eyes look at the both of you as if she is trying to decipher what is going on with the both of you. He sees you get nervous as she walks closer.

“Hi Yuki…” You say as if you are about to be scolded.

The woman, Yuki, raises an eyebrow, “Who is this?”

“This is Suguru,” You pause before continuing, “he lives next door.”

Yuki’s eyes light up with understanding and a smile spreads on her face.

“Suguru- I have heard a lot about you.” She says and reaches out a hand for him to shake.

Suguru, now self conscious, takes her hand and shakes it. What have you told her? Does she not approve of him? Is he making a good first impression?

“All good I hope.” He replies and tries to calm his nerves.

“Very good.” Yuki assures him, “You have the pick of any table and can I get you any drinks?”

“The strawberry boba sounds good, I haven’t gotten a chance to try it.” You say with a smile and squeeze his hand.

“I will just have a coffee.” Suguru says.

“Okay, I will have that out shortly.” She says and walks off.

As she leaves you relax and he looks at you in concern as you sigh.

“I forgot to tell her about our date,” You admit as you pull him by the hand to a corner table, “there will most likely be anarchy in our group chat soon.”

He snorts and sits down in the chair near the window. Suguru mourns the loss of not being able to hold your hand. You sit down across from him and a loud ping comes from your phone. The first ping is followed by many more before you eventually put your phone on vibrate.

“Good luck with your friend group, my best friend already interrogated me yesterday.” Suguru says with a grin.

“I will need it, Shoko will have my head for this.” You admit with a sigh.

“Shoko Ieri?” Suguru asks in disbelief.

“Yeah! Do you know her?” You ask.

“We went to high school together and we are in some of the same English classes now.” He says.

“Wow! I never knew how close we were to each other without ever meeting.” You hum as a small tabby waltzes up to you. Suguru watches you scoop the cat up into your arms and pet its head. It purrs at your touch and he feels a little jealous of the cat.

Conversation flows effortlessly between you two as you play with the cats and drink your drinks. The tabby stays close to you, it demands your attention and will flick its tail when you are trying to do other things. You indulge the little thing every time.

At one point you finish your drink and get up, “I am going to get another tea, do you want more coffee?”

“That would be great.” He says and you take the cups off the table and walk over to the counter where Yuki is standing looking bored.

He watches you talk to her when a set of claws enter his calf. Looking down the small tabby cat has it’s claws in his leg with narrowed eyes.

“She may indulge you but I won’t.” He says defiantly.

The cat sinks its claws in deeper.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Suguru feels the claws puncture his skin.

“Fine!” He says picks up the tabby and scratches its little head.

It begins to purr and Suguru just sighs, resigned to being a servant for this cat until you both leave.

You come back to see Suguru holding the little tabby cat. It is the cutest thing you have ever seen. You set his coffee down on the table in front of him as he pets the cat’s head.

“It looks like Obi likes you.” You say and sit down in your seat.

“Obi is a small terror.” Suguru grumbles but continues to pet the cat.

“He takes after his mother,” You say and scratch under Obi’s chin. “Queenie fits her namesake.”

“Obi is a cute name for him,” Suguru says, “it doesn’t fit his personality.”

You laugh and take a sip of your drink, “His full name is Obadiah.”

“Obadiah?” Suguru asks in disbelief, “that’s his full name?”

“Yuki named him.” You smile at him as he tries to think of how Yuki thought that the name Obadiah would be a good name.

“I think I would be a terror if I was named Obadiah.” Suguru says and scratches the cat behind the ears, “I have misjudged you, I am sorry.”

More time passes and the two of you trade off so Suguru can drink his now lukewarm coffee. Obi is pleased to be in your arms and you hold him like a baby as he purrs. You had always wanted to adopt him since you saw him but raising him by yourself seemed like a daunting task so you talked yourself out of it.

A camera flash brings you out of your thoughts. Suguru has his phone up and is taking a picture of you and Obi. You blink in confusion at him.

“Why did you take a picture?” You ask him curiously.

He puts his phone down and clears his throat nervously, “I wanted to paint the two of you.”

Your jaw drops as he rubs the back of his neck, looking away from you. Your heart is in overdrive as you try to process that he wants to paint a picture of you. Taking a picture is one thing but painting someone takes a lot of work and time.

“I don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable!” He says quickly trying to make it better.

“No!” You say but it comes out a bit high pitched as you blush, “I- I don’t mind.”

Suguru relaxes and a grin spreads on his face, “I am happy that you are willing to be my muse.”

God help your poor heart.

After two hours you leave the cafe. Yuki waves as you leave and you know that you are in for it later. But you feel so love struck that you don’t care.

The walk back to your apartment building is filled with laughter and smiles. Suguru holds your hand all the way there and you let him lead you to the elevators. He runs a thumb over your knuckles and you feel like a dumb teenager on her first date.

When you make it to your door you hesitate. You don’t want this to end. Even if this is temporary and he may not want you later you want to bask in it now. You try to think of how to articulate it. And Suguru frowns as he looks at his phone.

“My roommate kicked me out for the night,” Suguru starts, “could I crash at your place? I will buy us dinner as payment.”

Fate seems to be in your favor today.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You say and let go of his hand to open the door. The door swings open and you lead him inside.

You settle on the couch as the two of you continue to talk. Suguru orders Chinese takeout and you talk about anything and everything. He tells you about his art classes and you tell him about your classes in kind.

“-I actually have a big project coming up soon so I will have to focus on that since it is a major portion of the grade.” He explains his hands moving around as he does.

“What do you have to do?” You ask him.

“So what the professor is asking for is a watercolor piece. I prefer oil based paints but it will be good to step out of my comfort zone for it.” Suguru tells you and you can tell that he is passionate about this by the way his eyes look as he talks.

“You seem really passionate about this.” You observe and he stops briefly.

“Sorry- I was rambling-” He starts to apologize but you grab his hand.

“Don’t apologize,” You smile at him reassuringly, “I like hearing you talk.”

It is quiet as the two of you stare at each other. The tension thick in the room as you trace his face with your eyes. His hair falls into his face from the beat bun it was in. You lean closer and-

The doorbell rings, breaking up the moment.

Internally groaning you get up from the couch, “I will get the food.”

“Thanks.” He responds a little heavy as you walk to the door.

The poor delivery man doesn’t deserve the irritated expression you give him but he looks too high to care. You take the food from his outstretched hands and thank him. He just tips his hat at you and teeters off down the hall. Hopefully he gets home safely.

You set the bag on the coffee table and grab some chopsticks from the kitchen. Suguru is dividing the food on the table. You hand him a set of chopsticks and sit down to eat.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You ask him as you open your container of food.

“Yeah,” He says, “What are you in the mood for?”

“A romcom would be good but I am okay with anything.” You admit and grab the last dumpling.

“Okay- what would you recommend?” Suguru asks you with a smile.

“So if you want a high school setting I would suggest 10 things I hate about you, if not how to lose a guy in ten days is a classic.” You explain and hand him the remote.

He sets down his food and takes it with a hum of amusement, “Which one do you recommend?”

You take a minute to weigh it out. 10 things I hate about you was always a favorite when you were younger, and Heath Ledger isn’t too bad looking. How to lose a guy in ten days is the funnier of the two but you think your heart is swaying towards 10 things I hate about you.

“I would recommend 10 things I hate about you.” You say and He turns on the TV.

The movie starts and you feel content to watch Suguru’s reactions to the movie. Before he had put it on he had told you that he had never seen the movie. Which was a crime. So now he gets to be subjected to this movie for the next hour and a half.

“And I thought I had restrictive parents.” He says with a cringe.

“It really makes you think huh?” You ask with a laugh.

“I mean, if I had daughters I would be protective but not like that.” Suguru explains to you and puts his empty take out container on the table.

“I could see you with daughters,” You admit, “You would make a good dad.”

Suguru blinks down at you in surprise. You realize what you said and go to fix the situation but he beats you to speaking.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

Over the course of the movie your legs end up slung over Suguru’s lap. He runs his hand over your right leg, but only to your knee then stops. It is driving you a little insane at this point. If it wasn’t too forward you would grab his hand and put it under your skirt.

“He so deserved that.” Suguru says with approval as Joey gets punched in the face.

“He is such an asshole.” You agree with him, trying to not sound like you are worked up about his hand.

The main characters get together, the credits roll and the movie ends.

His hand is still there and you can’t stand it anymore. You reach your hand over to his and grab it. He startles but lets you guide his hand up your leg to your mid thigh. Suguru looks at you, his eyes darker than before. You give him a challenging look, daring him to touch you like he means it.

“Are you sure about this angel?” He asks you, his voice rough and breathy.

“More than any of the decisions I have made for the past month.” You respond.

Suguru chuckles and moves so his right knee is in between your legs, he hovers over you on the couch. You look up at him as he scans your face with his eyes as if he is trying to memorize what your face looks like in this exact moment. His lilac eyes lock on yours and you feel your heart rate pick up.

When he kisses you it is so slow, he takes his time as his hands move up your thighs. It is such a switch from yesterday where he did waste anytime and kissed you so hard you almost couldn’t breathe. You are sure that he wants to turn it around on, to make you need him just as bad. And he is definitely succeeding.

Your body feels so hot and he is barely touching you. It is maddening. His snake bites are cold against your lips and that only makes you want more. You run a hand up into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His fingers ghost under your skirt and you gasp into his mouth.

“So needy angel.” He purrs as he pulls back to look down at you.

“I-” You begin and clench your thighs, “I need you so bad baby.”

That seems to be Suguru’s breaking point because he picks you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise at his sudden silence and him picking you up. Most of the men you have slept with hadn’t even tried to pick you when you hooked up. You can’t help the heat that curls in your core as he makes his way to your bedroom.

He lays you down gently with your head on your pillow. Suguru climbs onto the bed and parts your thighs. His rough hands pull down your skirt and tights, leaving you in only your underwear. He practically moans at the lacey lilac pair of panties you have on.

You grin at him and pull up your shirt to reveal a matching bra. It was pure coincidence that you had a set that was the color of his eyes. Even though you had not expected to hook up with Suguru, you thought that you would wear them just in case.

He matches your grin and hooks a finger under the elastic band, “All of this just for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” You ask him with an eyebrow raised, “I am not easy-”

You are cut off as he lowers himself between your thighs and licks your pussy through your panties.

“You were saying?” He says innocently as if he doesn’t have his head resting on your inner thighs.

“I am not- mhh!” You try again but he bites your inner thigh causing you to shiver.

“Hmmm?” Suguru hums in question as he pulls down your panties so he can see how wet you are already. “You seem to be having a hard time speaking angel, why don’t we let your pussy speak instead?”

You barely nod before two fingers are pumping in and out of your hole. It feels so good, his fingers are long enough to reach the spots you never can when you do this. He is knuckle deep in your pussy and you feel like you might cum soon.

“Fuck- mhh- I’m gonna cum-” You moan out as his fingers find your g-spot.

“I want you to come on my tongue first before I make you come again on my dick.” He says and removes his fingers.

A long drawn out whine comes out of your throat at the loss of something filling you. You try to rub your thighs together to make some friction but his hands hold your thighs apart. He wastes no time in eating you out.

Suguru knows what he is doing, you can tell because you can barely think straight. His tongue swirls around your clit and his fingers re-enter your hole. You have lost almost all control and are just a moaning mess.

“Your so beautiful like this- hah- so desperate for me.”

You grind down on his face as you get closer to the edge. Suguru hums happily as he gets you so close to an orgasm, the sound sends a shiver down your body. The heat that was rising in your core reaches a fever pitch as you cum.

As you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm he takes off his shirt and you see the tiger tattoo. He sees you eyeing it and smirks.

“See something you like pretty?” He asks as he continues to get undressed.

You nod, still high on your orgasm. If you didn’t have some restraint you might put your lips to it. He shivers under your touch,

“Fuck-” Suguru curses and you realize you said that out loud.

His voice breaks you out of the trance you are in and you get up to touch him. You run your hands over toned muscle and ink. The tiger tattoo isn’t his only one, he has a dragon on his back and a few smaller ones scattered along his forearms.

You push him back so he is laying down on the bed. He doesn’t stop you when you take all his clothes off. You marvel at his dick. It is thick and already dripping precum as you stare. But you don’t want to rush this, you have been thinking of this for two months so you want to savour this.

The kiss you press to his lips is soft and quick. You move on to his neck. A small possessive part of you wants you to give him very visible hickies. You want the woman three doors down who looks at him in the hall ways to see the bites you leave know that he is taken.

She can go back to her boring husband because this man is yours.

You try to push the thought out of your mind but you are already biting his neck. It brings you glee to know that these will last. Even if he doesn’t want you in the morning, you will have proof that you were there for a while. He groans as you lick and nibble the spot where you bit him.

It was hot, the push and pull of this new dynamic. You had never taken a chance on being more dominant or possessive with your past partners because you didn’t want to scare them off. But Suguru was different, he let you have free rein until he felt like taking over.

You can get on top of him and his hands rest on your hips. It takes a minute for you to adjust your position and sink down on his cock. You hiss slightly at the stretch as his rough hands guide you down.

“You're bigger than I imagined!” You say as you take all of him in.

This seems to pique his interest, “You thought about this?”

“Yeah-” You admit as he runs his hands over your torso. “Since I saw you for the first time I wondered-”

You are cut off as Suguru switches the position so you are under him.

“What are you-?”

What you were going to say is cut off by a whine as he begins to move. His thrusts are a bit wilder than you had expected. His dick hits all those spots inside you that make your legs feel like jelly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to find something to ground you.

“I- hah- I have wanted this for so long.” Suguru admits in your ear, “Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you on your counter yesterday? How hard it was to not throw you over my shoulder and drag you to your bed earlier when I saw you?”

Oh

His words go straight to your core. You moan as he sucks on your neck. His confession makes your brain short circuit. It seems so out of the question that he would be into you. For a year you had talked yourself out of talking to him because you thought he didn’t want you.

“I would have let you-!” You answer his rhetorical questions.

That makes him pick up his pace and groan into your neck. You have a grip on his back as his dick hits your g-spot over and over and over again. You know that there are scratches left by your nails on his back.Your legs are trembling as your impending orgasm is about to hit.

“Can- fuck- can I cum inside?” Suguru asks you.

“Please-!” You whine out as you bury your face in his neck.

“Don’t hide from me angel- I want to see you.” He says and stares at you with nothing short of awe as you pull your head back to look him in the eyes. “Just like that, good girl-”

You can’t tell what makes you cum, his words or his repeated hitting of your g-spot but the coil in your stomach snaps and you feel so good. Suguru keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs tremble around him. You are on cloud nine as his hips stutter and he cums in you.

For a minute you two just breathe. The only sound in the room is your heart beat and laboured breathing. Suguru recovers first. He gets off you to get a towel to clean up and some water. You are sitting up when he gets back and you clean up.

“Stealing my clothes already?” He asks with a laugh as you pull on his band t-shirt.

“It smells like you.” You say with a shrug and crawl into bed with him.

“Do I smell good?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” You cuddle up to him. “Like smoke with hints of lavender.”

“I guess I can’t change my shampoo then.” He says and rests his head on top of yours.

“Otherwise we might have a problem.” You say with a sleepy giggle.

“How scary angel.”

You don’t respond because you feel your eyes shut and sleep drags you under its waves.

When you wake up Suguru isn’t beside you. You look over at the side of bed he was sleeping on to see it empty. Sitting up abruptly you look around the room for any sign of him but his jeans aren’t on your floor anymore.

You scramble out of bed.

Did the potion somehow last longer than intended and it is just now wearing off?

The door to your room is open as you rush out of it. But you relax as you see Suguru standing on your balcony. He is visibly arguing with someone and has a cigarette in his hands which he is pointing at the person in question.

You walk to the sliding glass door.

“-you should have given me prior warning asshole!” Suguru says and lights up the cigarette.

Opening the door he blinks over at you.

“Suguru?” You ask and slip out onto the balcony.

“‘morning angel.” He says and wraps an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

You relax into his side and look over at the man on the balcony next to yours. He is tall with wild white hair and blue eyes. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide as he looks at you.

“Oh!” You say as you remember who this is, “You must be Suguru’s roommate!”

“The one and only!” He responds cheerfully.

“Satoru Gojo.” He introduces himself and stretches out a hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand with a smile, “Nice to meet you Gojo.”

“Well-” Gojo says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I have to go check on my study buddy, have fun!”

Suguru just rolls his eyes as Gojo walks back into his apartment. You give him a little wave as he disappears. After he is gone you turn to Suguru who shakes his head at his friend.

“That poor TA, he will never hear the end of this.” Suguru says more to the air than you.

He catches your confused look and explains, “Satoru has been trying to get into the pants of our English classes TA for months now, poor guy must have finally agreed so Satoru kicked me out.”

“At least it was good for you that I let you stay over.” You say with a grin.

“You are very generous.” He responds, matching your grin.

“I do expect some repayment,” You tease, “people can’t think that I am a pushover.”

Suguru puts out his cigarette.

“Oh?” He asks and turns toward you, “and what may that be?”

You hum, pretending to think about it.

“Breakfast would be nice…” You suggest trailing off as you turn to walk back into your apartment, his hand in yours. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“I have many ideas.”

[headcanonenthusiast]

Simon Riley NSFW headcanons

Ladies, gentlemen and everyone inbetween, here he is. Here's the extremely popular man himself, Simon Riley.

I know how much people thirst over Ghost, and even though I personally don't he's a character I absolutely adore. Hoping I can do him justice with this one ❤

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

Enjoy!

Nsfw under the cut

-Don't really think he has the highest libido in the world.

-When he is in the mood, though, you're not sleeping that night.

-Have you seen the way this man talks? He's pretty confident in his looks. And he totally sprinkles that confidence into intercourse.

-"Look at tha', not even in you yet and you're already blushin."

-This is so random, but I feel like rainy nights get him in the mood.

-Its probably because you're less likely to go anywhere while the weather's bad. In his mind, as long as the weather isn't the best, he's got you glued to the bed for the night.

-"Where you goin, luv? Weather's nasty today."

-And no matter what excuse you give, his head will tilt slightly and he'll give the smallest smirk imaginable.

-"But it's so cold out. Wouldn't ya rather spend some time with me? The bed's nice n' warm."

-His grip on your hips is tight, so tight he usually leaves marks on accident.

-4 inches soft, 6 inches hard.

-Not the most vocal in bed, but he does grunt a lot.

-Not much of a talker, either, but depending on what you're into, he'll throw out the occasional praise or degrading word.

-"There we go, atta boy/girl. Hold still f'me."

-During sex, his eyes are locked on you, but not specifically on your face. He keeps his focus on your cock/pussy as he touches it.

-Expects your eyes to be on him the whole time, however. Does not want you to look away, even for a second.

-"Eyes on me, darlin'. Don't you look away, now."

-"Good girl/boy. Much better."

-Good with his fingers, and he knows it.

-Will totally finger/jerk you off with your back against his bare chest, his lap as your very own seat while he does so.

-"Christ, your legs are shaking. My fingers feel good, don't they?"

-His strokes are deep, and usually not terribly fast nor too slow. It's a good middle-ground that doesn't tire either of you immediately but is still satisfying.

-A big fan of pulling your hair if it's longer (consensually ofc, consent is important af yall).

-Something that really turns him on is the way his hand is able to completely cover yours. Enjoys moving a hand from your hip to your hand, giving it a few tight squeezes.

-And those squeezes aren't just him doing them because he wants to, he actually uses it as a non-verbal way to say "I love you", because like I said earlier, not very vocal.

-And he always does that at least once during sex. But sometimes he'll forget to do it, so he'll squeeze your hand as you're falling asleep, just to remind you of the fact he loves you.

-Is obsessed with painting your dick/pussy/ass with his cum. Your lips, too, when you give him a blowjob.

-When he's finished, you can see the way his body relaxes. It's like he's suddenly won the lottery and he no longer has back pain after sex.

-Aftercare isn't anything extraordinary, but he figures you need alone time after sex, so, unless requested, the shower is all yours for however long you want it.

-Also, he's not an asshole. Its not like he'd suddenly act distant after sex or anything, it's just that he knows you can take care of yourself. That's why he waits for you in bed, allowing his chest to become a pillow for your head to rest on.

-Now, Simon has never really been able to fall asleep super quickly, but after sex he passes right out.

-And it's not even because the act exhausted him, either. He just has this odd sense of contentment after being with you that lulls him into a more eased mindset, which is very difficult for him to get.

-In other words, he feels much more fulfilled with you by his side. And he'll be sure to thank you the next morning, chin on your shoulder while he gently squeezes your hand.

That was fun to write! Even though I'm not attracted to Ghost like everyone else reading this post is, he's still up there on my fav COD characters list.

Let me know who I should do next!

[ineffable-opinions]

MAME & BL Literacy Part 1

Another MAME show is airing and I thought it was good time to discuss what makes that author controversial.

As usual, critiques and corrections are welcome.

-

For those who don’t know MAME is a unique Thai BL creator. I have discussed in a previous post (that can be found here and here) how Thai BL is lacking in BL literacies. MAME is one of the exceptions. This is because:

she is a BL author & hence, one of the creators of BL literacies

she studied BL and its production academically [you can find her research output by searching her name: อรวรรณ วิชญวรรณกุล]

then she started producing live action BL.

In an industry which is lacking in BL literacies, what she brings to the table is fu-culture (BL fan culture) in all its glory. Unfortunately, the live action audience who are fans of sweet BL, have a hard time adjusting.

This is an exploration of response to her works, starting with the review of Love by Chance @waitmyturtles discussing all the ships in that series: AePete, TinCan, TarTum and KengklaTechno. This pretty much ties up what I identify as the first issue with BL literacies deficiency and MAME’s knowledge.

Here are some typical narrative progressions for a (Japanese) BL:

あまあま – sweet

ユニーク – unique

シリアス – serious

邪道 – evil road (Jadō)

王道 - royal road (odo)

Any theme/one-line plot can choose to take any of these narrative progressions. Moreover, Thai BL usually originates online which allows for innovation in narrative progression.

AePete

In Love by Chance AePete follows the typical sweet BL narrative progression. Sweet BL is characterised by an overall sweet flavor (characters, mainly the pairing, would be sweet in behaviour and motivation) and relationship progression is pretty smooth. This is the narrative progression that GMMTV sticks to. I have discussed their reasons as well as why it might not be a good thing in the long run here.

KengklaTechno

Their story follows jado narrative progression.

Quick note about Jado BL & Kengkla as a kichiku seme

One or more characters in a ship being emotional aggressors, physical abusers, sexual predators or outright villains is a very common trope in BL genre. These are popular sub-types (most notable: brute kichiku 鬼畜) of seme/uke/riba with these specific attributes and they have dedicated fans who thoroughly enjoy such characterizations. But these are clearly not everyone’s cup of tea. Some BL fans find these themes unbearable. That is why GMMTV and other BL live-action producers who don’t want to upset any of their audience members usually:

avoid such characterizations all together especially with sweet narrative progression

tries to soften such characters into more universally palatable forms

tries to redeem those characters by getting rid of those with odo – this is what currently airing My Stand-In would do.

make them villains – never making them the protagonists who gets any kind of happy ending

This is done not to trouble the average audience’s worldview (世界観) and is clearly a low effort and low skill (in terms of BL literacies) approach. But since a lot of audience don’t appreciate villain-like characterization, it is clearly low risk, no chance of a backlash from angry audience and the best method for assured money making.

Occasionally BL live-action producers venture into the risky terrains, especially with jado. The Japanese does it a lot, usually in movie format. China and Taiwan also delve into jado fairly regularly. But live action Thai BL seldom does anything commercially dangerous.  

In a jado BL, a character might do terrible things and manipulate the other character(s) in the ship. But won’t feel remorse, apologize and improve for better. This is a violation of the expectation placed on characters on sweet narrative progression. Sweet BL audience do not expect characters in a ship to be anything but good to each other, especially after they have become a couple. While audience don’t mind characters making mistakes, in this narrative progression audience also expect characters to learn from their mistakes and to grow closer by earning and giving forgiveness.

In jado BL that focuses on characters being villains, there are no such expectations. These BL work within the confines of their own worldview which don’t necessarily match with our IRL worldview. Characters are allowed to act in ways that goes against our everyday perception of what is right and what is wrong. Neither the characters nor the audience expect the characters to right their wrong, to apologize or to get punished, through judicial procedure or otherwise. Happy endings are not after reparations and resolution of issues, it would be in spite of those. Bad endings aren’t necessarily punishments for bad actions committed throughout the narrative, that’s just the ending of that story. Unlike with the BL with sweet narrative progression, these BL are not necessarily stories of two or more guys falling in love. Neither is their love (if at all there is love) expected to be healthy and wholesome. (It can be wholesome but it is just as well if it is not.) There are expectations from such narrative progressions too and resolution to most issues aren’t among those expectations. Clearly not everyone’s cup of tea, especially if they expect BL to be didactic like fables.

Problem getting papered over is the expected approach in jado. When characters get together/get back together with “problems” never really dealt with, it is proper meriba (merry bad ending). Plain bad ending where there is no resolution is also typical in jado BL.

Moreover, it is difficult to sell BL with jado and other narrative progressions. It becomes even more difficult to sell branded pairings when the characters they play are not impeccable. It is unlikely that actors playing bad guys can sell products for advertisers. (Imagine the characters from The Effect being in ads together!) It is even more unlikely that fans would go broke behind wicked characters and would want to attend fan-meetings and concerts featuring them in some way.

Kengkla is two-faced and an excellent yandere. He appears to be a cute and innocent junior in front of Techno. Audience also gets to see him in Machiavellian mode. This is something that Techno doesn’t have access to, at least in Love by Chance. Techno’s brother is his facilitator in the narrative, which in turn makes him two-faced too. Techno is not omniscient and Kengkla manages to trap him. And that’s where Love by Chance ends.

TarTum

There pairing is an excellent example of MAME’s skilled employment of BL literacies. TarTum is a sweet BL, complicated by them being step-brothers. While their pairing is barely odo, Tum as a character has a complicated odo progression. Horrors from his past haunts him. The journey is going to be complicated. It won’t be linear. There would be slip up on his part and that of others. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Those who love odo do so because of the pleasurable pay off, much more than sweet BL. It is a rollercoaster, and that’s why fans like it.

TinCan

This is another pairing with sweet narrative progression but with a rare dynamic: weak seme x weak uke, i.e., neither of them is strong in their pursuit. This is a notoriously tough dynamic to write, so much so that there are relatively few BL with this dynamic.

Multiple Pairings in a Piece

This is something I personally appreciate a lot. It is not often that we get a piece with different pairing with different types of narrative progressions. Authors choose this method and build universes so that they can reach the biggest audience.

A lot of people enjoyed Love by Chance because they could enjoy AePete. While I understand, I don’t relate to that. AePete was my least favourite pairing among them all. I enjoy dangerous characterizations over subdued ones and prefer a meriba over a happy ending. While there are plenty of BL media with those, they are rare in live action. In my first watch, I was constantly tempted to find fan-edits of every couple other than AePete. So, what is time wasted for some is actually really enjoyable moments for another. MAME gets that and I appreciate her for that.

Queerness, heterosexism and ‘Asian’ culture

@waitmyturtles also discusses “a kind of macro cishet perspective on AePete relationship” in relation to “Ae’s randiness and jealous tendencies” and Pete’s response or lack thereof as well as “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help, and Ae’s tendency towards stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors” tied to “MAME’s story structure here is based in Asian cultural homophobia, in stereotypes of how the queer community should act by way of societal expectations in Asia.”

To unravel that:

I don’t know what “cishet perspective” means in relation to AePete, a pairing consisting of two androphilic male characters. I also don’t know what were the expectations on Ae and Pete in terms of randiness and jealousy.

More interesting I think is the question underlying the statement about Ae’s performance of “stereotypically masculine POVs and behaviors”. Now, what does that mean? In order to understand that it is important to figure out which type(s) of masculinity Ae would subscribe to based on his class, ethnicity and where he comes from (Thai masculinities show considerable variation with location). It will be meaningful to evaluate Ae’s behaviour with respect to: a) what he thinks is the “manly” thing to do b) what Pete does

Take “Ae not being able to take Pete’s help” for example. In their 2021 paper ภาพแทนชายรักชายในนวนิยายยาโออิ เรื่อง รักนี้บังเอิญคือคุณ [The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You] Phuwadech Doungmanee, Panunda Lerlertyuttitham & Natthanai Prasannam goes deep into this:

MAME employs four typical prejudices against male homosexuality perpetuated within the Thai society to create conflicts within the plot: 1) male homosexuality unacceptably deviates from the social norms 2) male homosexuality must not be “out” 3) male homosexuality brings disappointment and shame to the family, and 4) male homosexuality cannot earn true love; love must be purchased instead.

Pete trying to purchase Ae’s love is implied when he is offering ‘help’. This is a stereotypically masculine behaviour and an elitist one at that. As with other stereotypes listed above, this one too gets treated well (with Ae’s refusal to accept) even thought it might not seem so from a Western heterosexist lens.

Along with discursive clashes challenging earlier beliefs, those who hold the prejudices tend to be judged by poetic justice. The author thus educates the society and reading public on alternatives views in relation to male homosexuality. (source: The Representation of Homosexual Men in the Yaoi Novel: My Accidental Love Is You)

There is no one Asian culture. Here are the three popular types of masculinities in Thailand (these are very different from Malayali and Tamil masculinities I am personally familiar with):

Monk

secular male - chaai chatri (ชายชาตรี): embodies typical masculine features such as ‘authority, courage, self-assurance, physical and emotional strength, and sexual prowess’ as well as someone who ‘would under normal circumstances control his sexuality as much as possible and be loyal to his family.’

lower-middle-class - nak leng (นักเลง): ‘a man who is brave, daring, risk-taking but also fair.’ In more recent decade: ‘a man who is tough, loyal to allies and a playboy with numerous sexual affairs.’

Both Ae and Pete are very masculine in very different forms. MAME is not only familiar with different forms of masculinities and femininities, and their region-specific variations, but also plays around with it a lot. The male femininity is also achieved in both the characters in a similar manner. All of this might easily escape the audience members who have limited understanding of Thai masculinities and femininities.

Pete isn’t shown to be unsettled by Ae’s randiness because it is an interplay of two different masculinities done with grace. Pete not only plays the polished, prince-role to a kunlasatree (กุลสต กุ รี; a stereotypical good woman, defined as ‘proficient and sophisticated in household duties; graceful, pleasant, yet unassuming in her appearance and social manners; and conservative in her sexuality’), he is also an out-and-out chaai chatri.  

Physical Relationships and Explicit Content

One of MAME’s contributions to BL is in the toppling of certain beliefs, guided by sexism, BL live action creators were operating under prior to her.

Sathaporn Panichraksapong, an MD of GMMTV, a major producer of BL series, claimed that audience members who are mainly heterosexual women look for romantic relationships among the characters rather than sexual relationships.

We know that our audience are [sic] women. Women want to see only two boys having romantic moments together. They don’t want to see sex. Sexual relationships in BL are for a gay audience. That’s why in SOTUS the Series we have only two kissing scenes. With only these, audiences were already screaming. This is enough for them. (Interview with Sathaporn, GMMTV, 10 Aug. 2017)

Jirattikorn, Amporn. “Heterosexual Reading vs. Queering Thai Boys’ Love Dramas among Chinese and Filipino Audiences.” (2023).

As Jirattikorn goes on to highlight, this [wrong] perception about the audience (“women”) have changed ever since.

While early BL series tend to portray pure love without showing many sexual relationships, later BL series started to show more sex scenes between the two male lead characters.

Jirattikorn (2023)

Trauma & Porn

Itai Itai Itai (if you know, you know)

To claim that it is Asian cultural homophobia that MAME leveraged in Love by Chance through the inclusion of gang rape, incest, and unhappy ending is doing a disservice to BL and other queer genres including gei comi, all of which are well known for both trauma and porn. Aof Noppharnach and Cheewin’s lack of BL literacies is evident in their works. The way Aof Noppharnach shamed the use of the term เมีย ‘wife’ in Bad Buddy in spite of its usage by queer people, especially the little people among them, is evidence enough of the contempt and disregard he can bring in through his positionality as an “auteur”. To compare him to MAME is a little callous, especially when MAME constantly questions positionality and power through the stories she tells.

MAME’s trauma or lack thereof is none of anyone’s concern. So is what she does with it.

But the assumption that trauma in BL is a product of an author who themselves went through it is ludicrous and ignorant because BL from the days of tanbi (and its predecessors) have been engaging with it. There is already half a century’s history of BL with trauma and taboo themes.  

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you can find the review discussed in this post here:

This is Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[liarom1ove]

Whispers of Ether

A regular girl trying to live her best life in modern London is surprised when she receives a mysterious box from a distant relative-especially odd since she's an orphan. Naturally, she checks the box for anything valuable and finds a ruby necklace and a strange book. Imagine her shock when she wakes up in a world filled with monsters, realizing she's more connected to this place than she’d like to admit.

A tale of a modern girl in Middle Earth.

2k

Warnings: none

~~The inherence~~

Y/N sank into her bed, the soft, worn duvet folding around her as she settled in with a satisfied sigh. The record player in the corner spun gently, filling the room with Adele’s soothing voice. A steaming cup of tea sat on her bedside table, its fragrant Earl Grey scent mingling with the warm vanilla and cinnamon notes of the candle flickering nearby. Everything about the moment felt comforting, almost perfect.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the mysterious box from Mr. Hawthorne, the lawyer. It sat on the bedspread in front of her, its intricate carvings catching the fading light in a way that made it hard to ignore. For a while, she just stared, uncertainty pooling in her chest. She recalled her brief, confusing conversation with the man, her curiosity now battling with the creeping sense of unease.

~~

Y/N wasn’t exactly living a glamorous life, but she had carved out her little niche in London—working long hours, meeting up with friends for a pint when she could, and binge-watching terrible reality TV whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t perfect, but it was her routine, predictable in a comforting sort of way. So, when a knock sounded at her door one evening, she assumed it was her elderly neighbour, Mrs Jenkins, needing help with her Wi-Fi again.

But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Mrs. Jenkins. Instead, a man stood there looking as though he’d stepped straight out of a Victorian novel. His suit was immaculate, every line crisp, and his expression so severe that Y/N half-expected him to start reciting from a legal document on the spot.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" His voice was clipped, formal—like he was ticking off boxes in his head.

"Depends," Y/N said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Who’s asking?"

"Kelvin Hawthorne, solicitor. I’m here regarding the estate of your late relative, Mrs. Aina Althariel." He extended a small, ornate box toward her, handling it like it was something far more important than it looked. "I regret to inform you that Mrs Althariel passed away last night, and according to her will, this is to be given to you."

Y/N blinked, thrown for a moment. She tilted her head, a frown forming on her face. "Right… you sure you’ve got the right Y/N? Last I checked, my family tree barely qualifies as a shrub.”

Mr. Hawthorne didn’t flinch. His expression remained as stony as ever. "There’s no mistake. According to the records," he said, his voice calm and precise, "Mrs. Althariel was a distant relative, and she made specific arrangements for you to receive this."

"Uh-huh," Y/N muttered, eyeing the box with growing suspicion. Still, she took it, surprised by its weight in her hands. It was heavier than it looked, solid and somehow… significant. "Well, this is new. I usually just get bills or the occasional postcard from someone who thinks London’s still exotic. So… what’s the catch?"

"The catch," Mr. Hawthorne said, his voice steady and clipped, "is that you need to sign this document acknowledging receipt of the inheritance." With a swift, practiced movement, he produced a clipboard with a single sheet of paper and a pen, offering them to her with a flourish that felt strangely formal, given the odd situation.

Y/N took the clipboard, raising an eyebrow as she skimmed over the document. Just a standard acknowledgement form—confirming that she’d received the box and, apparently, its mysteries. She let out a sigh, the weight of the moment settling on her shoulders.

"Fine," she muttered, signing her name at the bottom with a dramatic flourish of her own. "Signed, sealed, and delivered."

Mr. Hawthorne gave a brisk nod, his lips curling into what barely passed for a smile. "My job here is done. Enjoy the… memento. Good evening, Miss."

"Really? No cryptic warnings? No riddles? Just paperwork?" Y/N quipped, but he was already turning to leave, his back straight, every movement measured. She stood there for a moment, watching him head down the hallway, half-expecting him to vanish into thin air. He didn’t, but the click of the door behind her felt strangely final.

"Well, that was… weird," she muttered under her breath, glancing down at the ornate box now in her hands. "What in the world have I gotten myself into?"

~~

The carvings on the surface of the box were intricate, swirling patterns that seemed almost alive in the soft light. Y/N traced her fingers over them, appreciating the delicate craftsmanship. There was something oddly mesmerizing about the design as if the swirls were guiding her touch along invisible paths.

With a playful roll of her eyes, she leaned forward and flipped open the latch. "Well, Aina, let's see what kind of skeletons you've got in your box," she muttered under her breath. "Literally, I hope not."

The box creaked slightly as the lid opened, revealing its contents. The first thing she noticed was the nestled, on a bed of rich, dark velvet, ruby-red necklace. The jewel shimmered with an almost hypnotic brilliance, the deep red gem glowing faintly as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Y/N's breath hitched for a moment, a blend of awe and scepticism crossing her face.

"Well, this is definitely not your average heirloom," she murmured, her fingers hovering just above the necklace.

She hesitated only briefly before lifting the pendant from its velvet bed, the ruby swaying slightly in the air. It was set in a delicate frame of gold, shaped like a teardrop, surrounded by intricate filigree that caught the dim light of her room. As she turned it over in her hands, she noticed the same swirling patterns etched into the gold that adorned the box, as though they were part of the same ancient design. Even more curious, the ruby seemed to pulse gently in response to her touch, its faint glow intensifying for just a moment.

"Let’s see how you look on me."

With a small grin, she stood from the bed and crossed the room to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. Holding the necklace up to her collarbone, she adjusted it, studying how the deep red of the ruby contrasted with her casual outfit. The gem sparkled against her skin, casting a faint, warm glow that seemed to enhance her features in a subtle, almost enchanting way.

"Well, aren’t you a stunner?" Y/N quipped, flashing herself a cheeky grin. There was something undeniably elegant about the necklace—it added a touch of mystery, an air of sophistication that felt at odds with her normal life.

Satisfied with the way it looked, she fastened the clasp behind her neck, the cool metal settling gently against her skin. She adjusted it once more, ensuring it hung just right. As she gazed at her reflection, a strange sensation washed over her as if the necklace was somehow more than it appeared. It wasn’t just beautiful—it felt… right.

"Regal, more like," she muttered, tilting her head as she studied herself in the mirror.

"Not too shabby for a piece of inherited jewellery," she mused aloud, twirling slightly to admire the way the ruby caught the light with every movement. "I suppose I should thank Aunt Aina for the fashion upgrade."

She returned to her bed, settling comfortably beside the box where old, yellowed parchments lay scattered. The pages were filled with strange, unfamiliar symbols—letters twisting and curling in ways her eyes couldn't quite follow.

She skimmed through the parchments, her brows knitting together in confusion. "A translation guide would be nice right about now," she muttered, letting out a wry chuckle. "Or maybe I should start brushing up on my Duolingo. Ancient rune edition?"

Setting the incomprehensible pages aside, her curiosity got the better of her as she reached back into the box. This time, her fingers grazed something solid—heavy and smooth. After a moment’s effort, she pulled out a thick, black leather-bound book. Its surface was aged but polished, and it held a weight that suggested more than just old stories.

With a breath, Y/N opened the book, and what she found inside made her eyes widen. The pages were filled with illustrations of creatures she had only ever seen in fantasy movies or read about in legends. Monsters with sharp fangs and claws, towering dragons with shimmering scales, and beings so strange they seemed to defy reality. Each creature was drawn in stunning detail, their lifelike precision enough to make her feel as though they were on the verge of leaping off the page. Beneath each illustration were notes written in what appeared to be runes—more indecipherable symbols that deepened the mystery.

"What in the world…?" she whispered, flipping through the book slowly. The drawings were both terrifying and mesmerizing, each creature a mix of beauty and danger, almost as if they belonged to some long-forgotten world.

As she turned another page, something even more remarkable fell into her lap—a large, folded map. She carefully unfolded it, revealing a vast, meticulously drawn landscape. Mountains loomed high, forests stretched endlessly, rivers carved their way through valleys, and cities dotted the map, all labelled with names she couldn’t begin to pronounce. The map was so detailed, that it almost felt as if she were holding an entire world in her hands.

"Middle-earth?" Y/N read aloud, the name scrawled across the top of the map in elegant, unfamiliar script. "What even is that? Some kind of theme park?" She scoffed lightly, but her curiosity deepened.

The book was filled with strange symbols and runes, their meanings elusive, as if taunting her to figure out the puzzle. Her brow furrowed, frustration starting to build as she traced her fingers over the intricate lines.

"Alright, Aina, you've got my attention," she muttered with a half-smile, the amusement in her voice mingling with genuine intrigue. "What the bloody hell is all this?"

With a sigh, Y/N absently traced the runes with her finger, running over the grooves in the ancient parchment. She was on the verge of tossing it aside when the impossible happened—the symbols began to shift and reshape right beneath her touch.

She jerked her hand back as though the page had suddenly scorched her. "What the—?"

The runes danced across the page, morphing fluidly into letters, then words. The transformation was graceful, almost as though the text had been waiting for her to touch it. Slowly, words in plain English appeared, as clear as if they had always been there, hidden in plain sight:

To the last Althariel who bears the name, your destiny lies beyond this world.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, but the words stayed, clear and stark on the page.

"This… this can’t be real," she whispered to herself, a shiver running down her spine. Glancing around her bedroom, everything remained as it was—the flickering candle, her steaming cup of tea, the soft hum of Adele from the record player. Everything was perfectly normal, except for the impossible message staring back at her.

Y/N was still staring at the shifting runes when a sudden clap of thunder echoed through the room, so loud it nearly sent her heart into overdrive. Startled, she snapped her gaze toward the window. Heavy rain now lashed against the glass, distorting the usually sharp glow of the city lights outside.

"When did that happen?" she muttered, her voice barely audible over the storm. The once cozy, calm atmosphere had shifted dramatically, the warm candlelight now flickering eerily as flashes of lightning turned the night into a chaotic strobe.

The tension in the air was thick, like something was building, waiting to burst. But the sharp sting of reality snapped her back. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and a wave of panic hit her like a cold slap.

"Shit!" Y/N yelped, jolted from her daze. She was 30 minutes late for work.

Her heart hammered as she dashed around her apartment, throwing on her jacket while trying to pull her hair into something vaguely professional. She could already picture the disaster awaiting her at the office. Y/N worked at a top-tier music production company—the kind of place that could either make or break an artist's career. It was her dream to one day be the one making the deals, but for now, she was just the assistant to Felicity Kennedy, a woman who could strike fear into the bravest souls.

Felicity Kennedy, Y/N’s boss, was as sharp as she was brutal, a woman who could reduce anyone to tears with a single glare. If there was one thing Felicity hated more than incompetence, it was tardiness. Y/N could already hear her icy voice, dripping with scorn, as she'd undoubtedly demand an explanation for being late.

"Felicity is so going to kill me," Y/N groaned, frantically throwing the last few items into her bag, barely managing not to trip over herself on the way out.

But just as she was about to rush out the door, her eyes caught on the black leather book, still resting on her bed like some ancient relic. For a split second, she hesitated. Something about that book—the way it felt in her hands, the mysterious writing that had changed—called to her. It had weight, not just physically, but in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Without really thinking about it, she reached back, grabbed the book, and stuffed it into her bag. Whatever this was, she wasn’t leaving it behind.

As she was finishing putting on her shoes, the shrill ring of her phone made her wince. She didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was.

"Hello—" Y/N began, but she was immediately cut off.

"Where the hell are you, Y/L/N?" Felicity hissed through the phone. The sheer irritation in her voice was palpable, even over the storm's howling winds. "You know we have the meeting with Styles today, and I need you here. Now!"

"I know, Mrs. Kennedy," Y/N replied, her tone as placating as she could manage while shoving the last of her things into her bag. "I just got a bit behind... but I'm on my way now."

She rushed out the door, cursing under her breath as she realized she'd forgotten her umbrella. The rain was relentless, sheets of water pouring from the sky as if the heavens themselves were angry.

Still, she knew she couldn't afford any more delays. Holding the phone tightly against her ear with one hand, she used the other to navigate her way through the downpour, bumping into people as she went. The rain blurred her vision, the city's usually vibrant colors reduced to a grey, indistinct haze.

"You better be, or I promise you won't have a job when you get here," Felicity snarled, her threat as sharp as a knife. "Or anywhere else."

"Yes, Mrs. Kennedy, I promise—" Y/N began, but her words were cut short, drowned out by the sudden, blinding flash of headlights.

She didn't have time to react. The world around her seemed to slow to a crawl as the bright lights of an oncoming truck bore down on her. The last thing she saw was the vehicle's massive grille, the rain glistening off its surface, before everything went black.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

You know? I really, really love your blog and your posts! I can't say that I'm in love with the show anymore, and if I'm honest with myself, I think that I'm on the salt side of the fandom. But like, I also enjoy a bit of sugar? It reminds me of what could have been.

But, sometimes, I feel that sugar fans are hard on salters/disappointed fans... Like, I'm afraid of asking their opinion about a negative aspect of the show, just to understand their pov, no matter if I try my best to be polite. And I get it, they have a right to enjoy the show and I am not entitled to get an answer from them, but its a side of the fandom that I'm afraid to interact with even if I enjoy some of their fanworks.

Yet, you are so patient and I feel that you understand (or try your best) both sides + the writers' and try to find a middle ground while affirming your perspective. You are so respectful even though you might not agree with some askers.

So, thank you for being you and making this blog! The world needs more people like you <3

Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm glad that I come across as respectful. I certainly try to!

I started this blog because I needed to vent about some things. Writing stuff down is a really good way to get your mind to stop pestering you against your will and I highly recommend it, but I didn't feel comfortable doing that on a blog more openly tied to my fan creations because there really is this vibe that you need to either love the show or get out. No middle grounds allowed. As if the show has to be perfect for you to be allowed to engage with it. That's not a healthy mindset for anyone to get into especially if you want diverse and interesting fan creations in your fandom. The more people feel like they have to fit a certain mold to be welcome, the less creations you get.

It's one thing to request that your personal blog be sugar only or to not want to engage with more critical posts, but to act as if people aren't welcome in any part of the fandom unless they only talk about good things is not how you get a fun and active fandom. It seems like people are legitimately scared of saying anything bad about Miraculous, but canon has a lot of things that aren't great so the sugar fandom is dying off because the only options are to shut up and be welcome or talk about what's bothering you and be kicked out. A single salty post can get you thrown out no matter if you're usually pretty positive or neutral about canon. It's weirdly culty and not my cup of tea. I like talking about media and you generally can't do that if you're only allowed to say positive things.

A while back, I joined a fandom event to meet other fans and one of the rules of the event discord was "no salt" and so people just... didn't talk about anything to do with the show. The only activity the server saw was the question of the day and occasional writing question even though episodes were actively airing at the time. It was a really depressing experience that perfectly showcased why "no salt" is an okay rule for a personal blog, but a terrible rule for any sort of group setting. It just kills people's ability to talk if they're constantly policing what they say.

My rule of thumb for this kind of thing is that people are ALWAYS allowed to disengage from a conversation that's upsetting them and that you should respect people's boundaries for their personal spaces like blogs, but that you do need to grow a backbone if you want to be in bigger fandom spaces. You're going to see shit you vehemently disagree with, but in most cases, the way to deal with that is to go do something else and let the people have their fun. If a post of yours starts getting a bunch of upsetting replies, turn off the notifications. Block the blogs. Curate your corner of fandom, don't curate fandom as a whole otherwise you get something like Miraculous. I've never seen a fandom so afraid of critical thought as Miraculous seems to be. I don't know if it's because it's younger or actively airing or what, but it's weird. It's totally cool if someone just wants to turn off their brain and have fun with it, but it's not cool to get mad that other people want to talk about the very real problems with the writing and the messaging.

[gamerbot-22]

Burning Up and Cooling Down

Prompt: Sick

TW/CW: Caelus has a horrific case of the flu, Caelus x Dan Heng <3, Dan Heng speaks a lil Mandarin, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 925

A/N: Two factions finished in a row! Love the way the wheel shakes out sometimes. Also damn I called it, this is kind of another tonal apology for a fic, this time being Dan Heng's I Don't Wanna Talk About Anything. I wouldn't call it a sequel, per se, I would've put it above if it was, but I think the vibes of the relationship I established there are carrying through. Also more Animal Crossing rules, I don't care if this was technically published after Midnight, I still did it!

Translation Note: Did a bit of research as to what is said after a sneeze in Mandarin and found that usually nothing is said, but there are a few things that can be said in response. The one I picked here is 百岁 (pro. bǎi suì lit. one hundred years old) because haha long life species. As usual, the pronunciation is written without accent marks to be in keeping with HSR's localization, but the above is the correct pronunciation according to my research.

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

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The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

"A-CHOO!!!"

"Bai sui." Dan Heng was long past startling whenever Caelus sneezed like that. Three days of hearing his sniffling and snuffling and sneezing had made him practically as resistant to it as he was to the illness itself. He turned from the little packet of powdered medicine he had been preparing to look at his de-facto patient. "Do you need more tissues?"

The Trailblazer shook his head, already blowing his nose like a trumpet to try and free it of the blasted congestion that was working its way up through his chest. "I feel like I'm dying..."

"Stop saying that," Dan Heng scolded, clearly more worried than actually angry. "You'll feel better after you've had more medicine."

A cold chill ran down Caelus' spine. It would be soothing against his fever if that sentence didn't have such an underlying threat to it. "I had medicine this morning." He knew it wouldn't be enough to stave off what was coming, but it was worth a shot.

Dan Heng carefully picked up the unfolded paper the medicine Bailu had given him came in, moving very slowly and very carefully so it didn't go into anything that wasn't the cup of hot water he was aiming for. "It's been twelve hours. That means it's time for another dose."

He nudged the medicine into the water, watching the powder sort of just... sit on top of the water for a little while until he took a spoon to it to mix it all together. Caelus' room began to smell of rich Xianzhou herbs, earthy and deep and a little too strong to Dan Heng's sensitive nose. Caelus, thankfully, was too congested to smell it first hand, but he could already taste the gross, grassy taste of it on his tongue.

Caelus' moping was interrupted by Dan Heng coming to half-kneel on the mattress beside him, cradling the teacup carefully in his hands. "It's a little hot, but don't let it cool down too much."

The Trailblazer stared at the brown water, sniffling to try and hide his disgust. He would honestly rather drink Himeko's coffee...

...But then he looked up and saw Dan Heng watching him, grey-green eyes a little wider than usual, expectant like a cat's. Aeons, Caelus couldn't complain if Dan Heng was looking at him like that.

"Fine..." He sighed. He took a deep breath, then downed the tea in one shot, earning a startled "oh--" from his caretaker.

"Yep! Still tastes terrible. Blegh..."

"You finished it quick, at least." Dan Heng rested his hand on Caelus' forehead, carefully brushing his silver hair out of the way so the contact was proper. "Hm. You're still really warm..."

Caelus made a sound, an exhausted acknowledgement as he pressed his head into Dan Heng's palm. One of the perks of having a Vidyadhara as his caretaker was their naturally cool touch, even if his fingers were a bit calloused from wielding Cloud Piercer so diligently. "And you're really cool... Both temperature wise and in terms of like... general vibe."

Dan Heng huffed, the sound barely a laugh as he let his hand linger on Caelus' forehead. Watching the Trailblazer just melt against his touch like this was actually really sweet, even if he could hear how congested his partner was with each breath.

"How long does it take for the medicine to help with the fever again?"

"About two hours. Why?"

Caelus gave Dan Heng the biggest puppy dog eyes he had seen in a while. It might be the flu doing it, but there was something in his gaze that seemed especially desperate for whatever it was that Caelus was about to ask for.

"You're not busy for two hours, are you?"

Dan Heng sighed, good-natured, despite playing up his annoyance. "No, I'm not."

"Would you mind staying then? And maybe giving me some dragon cuddles to help cool down?"

The Vidyadhara pulled his hand back without saying a word, then turned to start walking away. Caelus' heart dropped, even if the very abrupt refusal was kind of funny in it's own way.

"Dannie!" He called, only to be met with a hush.

"I'm not going anywhere! I'm just turning the lights off."

As promised, the room went dark with a click, leaving only a string of yellow star lights by the bed for light. Well, that was until Dan Heng let his Cloudhymn magic fade, letting his translucent teal horns and tail out as he approached Caelus' sick bed.

He didn't even have to be asked to make room. Caelus was already wiggling over to the other side of the mattress, opening the blankets up behind him so Dan Heng could crawl under and make himself comfortable. He elected to lay as he usually did--curled up on his right side--and once he found his little niche in the mattress, he opened his arms and gestured for Caelus to come closer.

"Thanks, Dan Heng," the Trailblazer said softly, moving to rest his face in the crook of the dragon's neck. He was already starting to feel cooler, but once he felt that heavy tail drape over his hips and Dan Heng's arms around his waist and shoulders, it was like he'd died and gone to well-ventilated heaven.

"You're welcome, Caelus." Dan Heng pressed a soft kiss to the Trailblazer's forehead, feeling just how warm he still was for a moment before his chin on top of his silver hair. "Now get some rest. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Good night."

"Good night."

[rockingrobin69]

Peppers, please

(Also on AO3, 1.6k)

“I’ve been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still naïve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing thing to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you, Malfoy.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. Violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it isn’t my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”  

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit his awful job that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got in that building. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the back of the silly jacket when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready monstrosity appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet scent of old paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich Harry Potter forced him to eat sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

Under the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.

The flat, Harry-Potter-less, was not entirely quiet and frankly disinteresting. Draco forced himself in the shower (the smoky smell always caught in hair, then on pillows, and made sleep be—not sleep at all). Scrubbed, whatever. Even towelled himself dry like a real human being, and only slipped a little on the stupid rug he kept meaning to banish, to Vanish, to—chuck. He was tired. The smoke-thing was not a metaphor. He got barely the bare minimum last night.

Bear minimum? Like bear claws? Better than fire, he thought, nonsensically. Tired-Draco had a tired brain and it was only half-working in the best of times. Dragged himself to bed, knew he won’t get away that easy.

To the ceiling, too dark to make the water stains: what did Harry Potter have for his lunch? He always ate, but only when he made Draco eat too. It was some sort of ritual. A demonic binding of sorts. They had other friends who could make him eat, like Ronald and also Ronald and mostly only Ronald, and sometimes Hermione. They had other friends, but Harry Potter always ate if Draco did.

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him: was he manipulating Harry Potter? Had he truly forgotten to pack lunch, or did he do that on purpose? Thankfully, the panic was cut off when he suddenly thought, shit, I never locked the office.

But he did. He went back to check, remember? Silly. By the time he was thinking of Harry Potter’s eating habit, he forgot to fidget about whether he was viciously tricking him or not.

Some disasters, Draco thought, half-drifting, were just asking to happen.

So, it's on AO3. It might even continue, who knows.

[legacyshenanigans]

The Death Of Aleister🐍

(Just a HC post that I wanted to do for some reason. I dont think ill kill him off or anything canonically in my world haha, I just really wanted to do this. Also if anyone wants to hear this as an audio, id be down to make it 🙂)

Marvolo entered Gaunt Manor come morn after a night at the Den. The house had it's usual grim and quiet atmosphere, but there was something else in the air that made the hair on his neck stand. He took a moment to take in that odd feeling before entering the living room, seeing Ominis sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, drinking a cup of tea.

Marvolo: Morning, Brother.

Ominis turned his head, putting down his cup in a nearby table.

Ominis: Ah, you're home, sit.

Marvolo slowly sat on the sofa, joining his brother, he furrowed his brows slightly.

Marvolo: ...What's happend? The air is unusually dark, more so than usual. I can feel it.

Without skipping a beat, Ominis spoke, his words quiet.

Ominis: Father is dead..

Marvolo simply stared at him for a moment before finally speaking.

Marvolo: ....Truly?

Ominis: Yes..Last night, he must have passed in his sleep. Mother is with him upstairs. The funeral parlour will be collecting his body shortly..

The pair sat in silence, looking off towards the flames of the fireplace for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Marvolo: ...How do you feel?

Ominis: I feel....Nothing, really...You?

Marvolo: Likewise..Truth be told I didn't know how I'd feel when this day came.. But I perhaps thought I would be glad.. ecstatic even.. And yet..

Ominis: I know exactly what you mean..But for mothers sake, try and comfort her.. Is it terrible that i'm not sad about this?

Marvolo: ....No, brother.. He made our lives difficult at the best of times.

Ominis: But..He was our father.. Why do I feel nothing for his death? Why do feel like that's awful?

Marvolo: Because you've always been a good person, Ominis...You do possess empathy.. I believe it's mother you're actually sad for, not father.. Your heart bleeds for our mother. Not him..

Ominis: ...Empathy...Is that a quality you don't have?

Marvolo: Believe it or not, In recent years, I do.. Which is why I said what I said just now.. Because that's how I also feel.. I assume you may feel the same.

Ominis: I think you're right.. I suppose we shall now have to play the parts of the grieving sons.

Marvolo: As you said.. For mothers sake, yes. Though deep down, I'm sure she knows. Best not to bring it up though. Unless she asks..But she won't..

Ominis: How do you know she won't?

Marvolo: I just know..Mother knows how we've felt about him over the years..Its a horrifically uncomfortable subject for her. Something she has always had guilt over..

Ominis: ...I do have atleast a couple of what I would concider "good" memories with father. So there is that, I guess.

Marvolo: Then if it helps you, hold on to those.

Ominis: Will you do the same?

Marvolo: Probably not.. That's not how I work.

Ominis: Will you grieve? ....Will WE grieve, at all?

Marvolo: Perhaps in time? I don't know, I honestly can't answer that question.

Ominis: ...I think I will grieve..But not for him..For the childhood we could have had. Had he been a nicer man.

Marvolo: Ominis..We've always  grieved for the childhood we could have had. That's a personal and private feeling embedded into us that'll never go away for as long as we live.

Ominis: Good god...You're right.. I just.. I don't think I've ever fully allowed myself to feel it so intensely.. Have you?

Marvolo: Over the years, yes. Many times. But not around others. And my methods to combat and relieve that feeling are not exactly healthy.. For me, it manifests as anger. You may be different. You're more sensitive than me. And there's nothing wrong with that. You grieve whatever it is you wish to grieve, however you wish to feel it. But it's important you don't bottle it up.

Ominis: Heh..I feel this is a "the pot calling the kettle black" kind of moment. You're terrible for bottling up feelings.

Marvolo: *chuckles* With certain feelings, sure.. But not that.. Like I said, my methods of letting myself feel that particular feeling are not healthy.. Its a big part of why I'm the way I am.. Though I know I shouldn't use that as an excuse.. But that's the truth of the matter.

Ominis: ....Should we go upstairs? And comfort Mother before they come for him?

Marvolo: *stands* I think that would be wise.. Come.

~

[of-stars-and-fireflies]

V-Day 2 - Tohma Ishibashi

“Oh my, is this for me?” Tohma accepted the red box with his signature smirk. “How kind of you. I very much look forward to finding out what’s inside.”

Mina’s eyes narrowed, arms crossing with suspicion. “Why does that sound like you’re not keen on opening it?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re always like this, you know.” She shifted her weight, uncertainty pooling in the pit of her stomach, but she subdued it so this talk could take place. “Like you’re hiding something. Like you feel as though you can’t be yourself.”

A spell of hesitancy passed through them. “Is now really the time for such a conversation?”

She tutted with a sigh, moving to take his hands, which he accepted. “...I want you to be comfortable around me, the way I am around you. You shouldn’t have to feel like you have anything to hide.”

Their eyes met, his pale blue hues flickering with a variety of flames, from amusement to annoyance. “Would opening your gift ease your mind?”

“Don’t avoid the topic.”

“Let’s see what’s inside.” Swiftly retreating, he wasted no time pulling the ribbon and freeing the lid from its spot. The smooth shine of chocolate delicacies greeted him, no doubt from the hands of a skilled confectioner.

Seeing him pause for so long, Mina spoke. “I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I opted for something nice.”

He concealed the desserts once more. “I appreciate it.”

“I was going to hand-make something so it was more personal, but…” Her voice lowered to a mutter. “I’m pretty terrible at baking…”

A few chuckles escaped him. “I would’ve enjoyed it regardless.”

“Really?”

His fingers ghosted her cheek as something soft took hold of his expression. “Really.”

But before he could back away, she seized his hand and pressed it against her. Her eyelashes fluttered shut after briefly taking in his surprise. “Then, let me into your heart.”

A pause.

“It feels as though you act like you’re only smoke and mirrors.” Their gazes met. “But I know I’ve met the real you before. So, please, let me see the you that I know you’re always so sure about.”

“...Is that how I appear to you?”

“You know yourself, and I think you need to let someone else help you carry your burdens. Let me take some of it so you’re not buried all the time.”

Few people have stunned Ishibashi Tohma, yet here this woman was before him, effortlessly striking him to the core. Still, he managed to plaster on his usual smile, keeping his tone low and smooth. “The burdens I take are of my choosing. Your assistance is appreciated, but the path I’ve chosen to tread is my responsibility.”

She lingered in this new flush of emotion, rife with reassurance, mischief, and grief. “Tohma…”

“Come now. If you truly wish to ease my burdens for the day, then let’s see how good you’ve gotten at preparing tea.”

Seeing those walls go up again, she squeezed his hand tightly and flashed him a warm smile. “Alright. I’ll make it the best cup you’ve ever had.”

A beat, and he allowed her a glimpse of warmth in return. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[definitely-not-outlet]

The Great Experiment - Chapter 3

Chapter Title: Black Coffee

Norm MacLean x Elodie Brooks (OC) | Pre-War AU

Masterlist | Ao3 | <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

A/N: going through the backlog and catching up my tumblr to my ao3 postings, apologies for how close together these have been in the tag. autism got me.

-----

Even though she worked in an office, surrounded by people who craved coffee, Elodie couldn’t stand it. She didn't like the smell, hated the taste, and therefore attempted to avoid any and all interactions with the substance.

Currently, it was impossible, given that the higher-ups had assembled all of the individuals involved in the Three Vaults Project in a single area. Why? Because the last batch of employees had been hired, apparently, and a company mixer was in order. And no mixer was complete without vats of coffee and a few bags of tea that vanished all too quickly. Nearly three hundred people, if Norm was telling the truth, had managed to fit in the cafeteria space.

Tables overflowing with snacks were dotted around the floor, and Elodie found herself at one with bagels and fruits. She took a plate, looking at her options. Her expectations were honestly in the gutter. Even if the dining hall usually served passable meals, she had no confidence in this. Her negative assumptions were only bolstered by the fact that a slice of melon crumbled the second the tongs made contact with it. With much regret, she picked up a different piece of melon, pairing it with a bagel, a plastic knife, and a pad of butter.

Bagels in Los Angeles… she wasn’t sure if she ever missed home more than she did now.

As she sliced open the bagel, she grimaced at how the grain looked so… cakey. Clearly, something had gone wrong in the bagel-making process, or there was just a severe lack of understanding on what a bagel actually was. The cheap butter definitely didn’t help, and, as she took a bite, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake.

It tasted like sandy cardboard. There was absolutely no spring, and the gluten dissolved in her mouth. It was honestly pathetic, and hardly close to a bagel. She’d heard of bagel shops shipping in water from New York City for its special properties, but this place definitely needed to just source someone who was actually from NYC. There was a very, very slim chance they could manage to salvage the loads of flour that were likely processed into this mediocre bread every single day.

God, she couldn’t even-

“Good morning, Elodie,” Lucy said, coming up behind her with a noticeable amount of pep in her step. “How've you been?”

Elodie raised a finger, awkwardly chewing on her bagel before roughly swallowing. She reached out and grabbed her cup, which she’d filled with water to give the appearance of drinking coffee. She’d gotten too many questions at seminars when asked why she wasn’t touching the coffee, so she knew better than to go empty-handed.

“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat as she looked over at Lucy. “It’s been alright, hard to get used to things out here still.”

“Yeah, it sucks sometimes. I was only here for a year before I went to VTU,” Lucy explained, “and when I came back, getting used to this place was even worse than the first time.”

“I miss the cold,” Elodie sighed. “It’s already too hot out here. I don't know how all these men survive in suits.”

“I’ll have to ask my dad. Or my brother! Oh, have you seen him recently?”

“No, why? Did something happen?”

“Nah, he's okay,” Lucy grinned, “I was just being a little nosy. You two got along well, last time I checked.”

“I shouldn't expect anything else from you,” the scientist said, choosing to avoid the second half of Lucy’s sentence. It was most definitely a trap, as Elodie hadn’t even talked to the youngest MacLean since the dinner, and he’d walked her to her car. “You’re always nosy, even as a kid.”

“I try not to, but sometimes, it’s just really hard. You’re my friend! I want you to feel comfortable, like you belong here.”

“I appreciate it,” Elodie said, taking a small bite of the melon and instantly cringing at its mealiness. “This place sucks sometimes.”

“Ah, I’ll make you love it! That used to be my job, anyways.”

Curious, Elodie thought. She actually had no idea what Lucy actually did, but had found out that she graduated from the Overseer program at VTU, which explained the regalia in her graduation photo. She also apparently graduated summa cum laude, which was reminiscent of her constant honor roll status when they’d shared a school.

Not that Elodie wasn’t also on the honor roll. They were the most consistent people on that list for six years, before Lucy herself stopped showing up altogether. Elodie continued the legacy, up until she left academia entirely.

“What’s your job, then, if it’s not giving pep-talks?”

“I work in Dweller Experience.” Lucy said, picking up a piece of pineapple and taking a bite. Much to Elodie’s surprise, she didn’t wince or gag, so maybe that was her next target. “I plan different things for the vault, and use employees as a focus group! I used to be an assistant for Bud Askins in HR. I didn’t enjoy it, though.”

Elodie nodded. It was a mild surprise that she wasn’t working with the administrators, like Hank and Betty. They’re the directors who work under… well, she had no idea who was above them, to be honest. It was probably Bud Askins himself, but he was everyone’s boss at this point. The exception was Barb Howard, who was the only administrator that Elodie hadn’t had the pleasure to meet just yet. She was apparently supposed to be here, but Elodie had no idea who she was even looking for.

Either way, Lucy working directly under her dad was a conflict of interest, so it made sense she was placed elsewhere. It was still strange, though, given her education. Surely the Overseer alumni were destined for greater places than an over-glorified HR position.

“Mm,” she nodded, “I guess you're not set to be an Overseer any time soon.”

“My dad says I have a shot at being one, but I don’t think I’d want to run. If I was in a vault, I'd want to be a teacher.”

“That’s understandable. Teaching is fun, I was a TA for a bit,” Elodie said, discreetly picking up a piece of pineapple and taking a bite. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and was definitely way better than the melon was.

“Luckily, I might just get to basically start teaching sometime soon. I might apply for a position that’s implementing the G.O.A.T. test from other vaults into ours. I’ll have to check which jobs we’ll have to plan around, though.”

“Your job’s a lot of people work, I don’t know how you do it.”

“It helps with new ideas, and finding what'd be best for the dwellers. Crowdsourcing ideas when dealing with this stuff works out pretty well.”

“Mm, makes sense,” Elodie hummed. “But, uh, we don’t have to talk business, though. What do you do for fun around here?”

“Great question! I do fencing and sharpshooting at local gyms, but I run a gymnastics class in the office gym.”

“We… have a gym? In the office?”

“Yep! I hosted a focus group once where people expressed a want to exercise in a vault. Then, they said they wished they could exercise more in their real lives, so I pitched the idea for an in-office gym. It apparently helped with productivity in all departments, so I came up with an aerobics class every day at 12. Then a bunch of other clubs started popping up in the area.”

Elodie’s eyes furrowed slightly, her lips pursed in thought. It was interesting that such a positive thing could be implemented here, given that Vault-Tec, as a whole, tended to be needlessly cruel towards their employees.

Maybe this was because she was at the TVP campus. This place was always brimming with cutting edge-weirdness that she hadn’t seen elsewhere. There was a good chance, then, this was the same sort of experiment or policy, given that Bud Askins had, in the brief interaction they’d had, told her to enjoy his ‘concepts in action'.

Hm.

She couldn’t do anything except trust it.

“I used to do sharpshooting, actually. And cheerleading, but I think my joints are too bad to keep that up,” Elodie said, chuckling a bit.

“Oh, really?” Lucy’s eyes widened, and Elodie could truly see the resemblance between her and Norm. “Maybe we can go together sometime!”

“That’d be nice,” Elodie said, smiling as she took another bite of the bagel. She instantly regretted it, chewing a few times before chugging more of her water.

This thing had to be thrown out ASAP.

“It’s a nice place! I rent their pistols most of the time,” Lucy chuckled a bit, “it’d be too expensive to buy my own.”

“They have rentable stuff? Do they have rifles too?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m just not as good at it.”

Elodie smirked and shook her head. Knowing Lucy, she was probably some prodigy in sharpshooting, and she got a single less-than-perfect match that ruined her morale and confidence for the rest of her life. Elodie adored Lucy, yes, but she tended to be pretty hard on herself in this regard.

The scientist sighed a bit to herself. It wasn’t like she could judge, as a single lackluster performance review would easily ruin her whole day, let alone her whole week. Someone could look at her wrong, and she’d assume they’d never talk to her again.

“I’m sure you’re pretty good at it,” Elodie said, nudging Lucy with her elbow. “You’re good at a lot of things.”

“I’m not! I suck at needlework,” Lucy said, furrowing her brows and furthering the resemblance with her brother. “I’ll have you know, I tried to fix a hem, and ruined the whole skirt.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Elodie said, giggling a bit and picking at her plate. She was still hungry, but would probably have to scavenge the vending machines until lunch. “I think you’d do fine. Better than me, probably. I don't even know how to sew, I just wing it.”

“We can go to some classes together! Gosh, I love having someone to- Norm!”

The sudden shout caught Elodie off guard, and she looked up with perfect timing. Just barely, she got a glimpse of Lucy looping a finger into Norm’s shirt collar. This ended up tugging him back, forcing him to stumble and let out a yelp. Once he regained his footing, he turned towards Lucy and shoved her with his elbow. It wasn’t enough to knock her over, but it was just enough to move her a few inches and make her laugh.

“Stop, Norm! I was trying to get your attention, and you love ignoring me,” Lucy said, giggling as Norm adjusted his shirt and tie.

He looked up, making direct eye contact with Elodie before looking at the ground.

“I don’t like to ignore you, I just don't like mixers,” he said, fitting his tie snugly around his neck. “I zone everything out just to make it through.”

Elodie felt… nervous. She hadn’t talked to him since the dinner, and he seemed on-edge. It was likely the environment, as it was also a bit much for her, but it didn't help with the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“You should talk with Elodie and I, then. We won’t make you talk about quotas.”

“I hate quotas,” he said, and Lucy snickered in response.

“I know,” Lucy said.

“How’s the bagel? I wanted to try one,” he said, eyeing Elodie’s plate.

She blinked a few times, then nervously swallowed.

“It’s terrible. It sucks,” the scientist replied. “But, I think having fresh bagels from New Yorkers within walking distance spoiled any other bagels for me.”

“Mm. I should've known. They never have good breakfast food,” Norm replied.

“Their pastries are good,” Lucy chimed in, stealing another piece of pineapple from the table and popping it into her mouth.

“Only when they order from that pastry shop down the road. Which just went out of business.”

“That sucks,” Lucy replied.

“A new shop just opened in the same spot, apparently. It’s a coffee place, but I heard they hired the same pastry chef.”

Elodie took a small step back, letting the siblings talk between themselves. It felt strange to be involved in the conversation, even if she knew both of them. She followed Lucy’s lead, though, deciding to take another fruit from the tray. This time, Elodie picked a strawberry, and was pleasantly surprised at how sweet it tasted.

They were 2-1 on the fruits, so she’d have to snack on those next time.

“We should try it out.”

“And skip the brunch? I’d never expect you to suggest that.”

His voice was incredibly sarcastic, and Elodie almost snickered in response. She kept it quelled, deciding to munch on another strawberry in the meantime.

“No, no. We can go after, and get an actual lunch. Besides, Elodie’s probably hungry too. Right?”

“Oh, uh,” she looked up, feeling a piece of berry stick to the back of her throat. She coughed a few times, then nervously swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“We can leave, then,” Norm said, smirking. “I saw a few people sneak out already.”

“We don't need to get in trouble because I’m hungry,” Elodie said, sighing.

“We won’t,” Norm replied. “This ends in, what, thirty minutes? It’s basically over.”

“Norm, stop trying to cause trouble,” Lucy said, swatting the back of his head. He winced, swatting her back. “We’ll go after!”

The man sighed, rolling his eyes as he chugged the rest of his coffee. Elodie could tell it was real coffee, the smell was sharp on her nostrils.

“Elodie, you don’t have to go,” Lucy said, sheepishly smiling. “I did put you on the spot, there. But, you’re fully welcome to come along, if you want.”

“Oh, I’d like to go,” Elodie replied.

“Great! We’ll just have to wait until everything’s over. We can’t be the first to leave.”

“I saw three other people leave a second ago. No one’s paying attention.”

“No, Norm. Well stay, and talk about our days.”

“It’s 9am.”

“We’ll talk about yesterday then!”

All things considered, Elodie didn't hate the mixer. It sucked to stand for nearly an hour with weak knee joints, yes, but she was glad she seemed to have people to commiserate with. It also felt nice to get to know the MacLeans again, even if there was always something different about them. It came with being apart for so long, Elodie supposed. She was definitely different too, but they still got along like a house on fire, even if Norm seemed like he wanted to leave the entire time.

As they were leaving, he turned to Elodie, raising an eyebrow.

“How’s your finger?”

She looked at him, flexing her fingers as she sheepishly smiled.

“Good. Healed up nicely.”

“That’s good,” he said, eyes flickering down to her hands. “This place has tea, too. I haven’t tried it, but I’ve heard good things.”

“I’ll…” she trailed off, furrowing her brows.

On one hand, she could say she’ll get coffee, the socially acceptable answer. On the other hand, he was giving her a clear way out of the disaster that would be her trying to blend in and order something she’d never drink. She didn’t want to lie to him. He didn’t seem like he’d tease her for something as arbitrary as her preferred caffeinated beverage.

“I’ll try it, then,” she finished, smiling softly. “I’m not a big coffee drinker, actually.”

“Noted,” he said, lips turning upwards.

Elodie could faintly hear Lucy giggle, but she hadn’t the slightest idea what was so amusing.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Holy crap I’m loving your writing! Im especially obsessed with Ken and the ranch owner

I’m wondering if you’d be willing to do an fem human reader x Ken where the reader gets a bit sick, nothing too serious but Ken absolutely freaks out and thinks the reader is dying or sum (he learned about death from Stero Barbie. Also spiders. He’s terrified of both) and the reader thinks it’s a bit funny so she’s like “yeah I’m dying” but then he gives her the most terrified and sad kicked puppy look and she has to explain that it’s just a cold lol

Awh thank you!! Im glad that ppl still love my barbie movie stuff even though barbie summer has come and gone 💔

........

There were only two things that Ken feared after beginning his new life in the Real World:

One is the mortality of humans, as Barbie told him all about how fragile their lives were and the two paths they were given: either growing old and dying peacefully in their beds, or some terrible occurrence cutting it short long before their time on this earth was up.

The second was spiders.

He especially hated the spiders.

You only recently discovered he had that fear after finding one of those 8-legged critters in your house--or more specifically in his room, where he came barreling out from as though he accidentally set something on fire.

At first, you thought he really did start a fire until he dragged you back into there, begging you to get rid of the "strange beast".

You had no clue what he could possibly be referring to....and then he pointed to the corner, where a little cellar spider sat completely unbothered, weaving its web.

In that moment, you realized you may have turned him arachnophobic, considering you did show him one insect-themed horror movie this past Halloween. He kept freaking out over it potentially growing horse-sized or injecting venom into his bloodstream when he was asleep.

But despite you assuring him neither of those things could happen (and insisting that the spider was more afraid of him), Ken refused to go into the room until it was gone.

You find it hard to fathom that this same doll who led an entire revolt, came to terms with his own identity crisis, and bravely made the transition to humanity....was totally inconsolable in the presence of a tiny bug.

Then again, maybe showing him that movie--and allowing Barbie to explain why arachnophobia was among the top fears humans had--was a huge mistake.

Regardless, you made it your mission to get rid of the critter.

Oddly enough Ken insisted that you didn't actually kill it, but you found you it sweet that he valued its life despite it scaring the shit out of him. So you contained it in a cup, putting a napkin underneath it before releasing it outside.

After that, you mentioned how most people usually killed spiders and other pests that invaded their home.

He looked wildly uncomfortable at that fact, before he began talking about some rather... concerning things: like if the spider knew how short its lifespan was, how easily it could have been crushed, if it feared death or if it was even aware of it at all-

Before he could derail and start rambling about death itself too much, you stopped him, asking if he was feeling alright.

And he went quiet for a moment, before smiling and giving you a kiss, reassuring you he felt better.

Yet even as he left the room, he still appeared awful tense.

It was that day where you worried that it's more than just spiders he feared..

.......

"Babe, what's wrong? Are you sick??"

"...unfortunately, but it's nothing serious. Just a stupid cold I caught at work." Sighing tiredly, you sat up in bed, seeing Ken walk into the room.

He looked nothing short of horrified at how drained and exhausted you sounded this morning. "A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I don't want you to catch anything, so I'm sorry...but no kisses today."

"Then..what about tomorrow?"

You just rolled your eyes, drinking some tea you made for yourself. "Maybe, but we'll see if I wake up."

Although it was meant to be a little joke, your foggy brain forgot how seriously the blond often took jokes, and he rushed to your bedside, kneeling down.

His eyes were wide as he took your hand. "If you wake up??? Are you dying??"

Putting down your mug, you sighed once more, trying to figure out a way to remedy this situation before you upset him too much. "No....I mean I just feel like I'm dying, but.." You paused, noticing the tears coming to his eyes. "Ken?"

Now that he was a lot closer, you could see the utterly terrified look on his face--as though you kicked a puppy right in front of him.

Yep, it was already much too late. He was upset.

"I-I know tomorrow is not guaranteed for anyone, but you have to get through this, [y/n]! Please..I can't lose you, too...not when you've done so much to help me." He was extremely close to crying, his lips trembling.

Your heart sunk as you placed a hand ober his own. "Oh honey, I was only kidding around when I say-"

"Why do humans joke about death so much? Don't they know y-you...you can't come back? That they have such short lives?? O-Or sure, some believe you can be reincarnated but that doesn't make it any-"

At this point, he was just blubbering nonsense, so you took him into your arms. And for a moment he fell silent, before burying his face into your chest, trying to calm himself down. "I-I'm sorry.."

"No, no..I'm sorry. You're right..I shouldn't be joking about death around you." Frowning slightly, you stroked his hair. "I promise I'm not dying. Not today, or tomorrow..not for a long, long time. This cold will pass and I'll feel better soon enough."

".....a-are these the irrepressible thoughts of death Barbie had?"

'Oh.'

It finally hit you.

He was going through the same thing she once did.

"Ken.." You had him sit up so you could see his face. Aside from it being a little red and his eyes puffy and watery, there were tear marks trailing down to the stubble that had formed along his jaw and chin. "Why didn't you tell me you were having those thoughts?"

Sniffling, he just shrugged. "I don't know. And... I don't know why I'm thinking them. Barbie could blame it on somebody who was playing with her, but...I can't. Because I'm not a doll anymore, I'm human....a-and...those were my thoughts alone." He shuddered, terrified at that realization. "I guess I just..didn't wanna scare you, b-but obviously it's too late for that..."

A small chuckle came from him, although it dissolved into a small sob as he wiped his eyes. "S-Sorry, I....I want these thoughts to just pass already."

"And they will." You nodded, squeezing his free hand reassuringly. "It looks like you're just experiencing them for the first time, and that's okay. They won't be all you think about. And you don't have to apologize for how you're feeling, as long as you're honest with me."

"Th-Thank you.." He sniffled. "I should be taking care of you, not the other way around. Do you need you anything? More tea? Meds? Anything at all?"

You smiled fondly, leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. "You're all I need right now, sweetheart."

That response seemed to bring Ken's giddy old self back, as he smiled bashfully in return. He melted back into your arms when you wrapped them around him, and he listened to your heartbeat: the only assurance he needed that you were still living.

Eventually...those thoughts of death did pass him by, and he felt okay again.

[trashboatprince]

Oh i just thought of a prompt idea! Aziraphale trying to write a book? Maybe under estimating how easy it would be?

Hahaha, the massive difference between reading something and writing something.

On with the fic!

--

"Angel!" Crowley shouted as he loudly threw open the doors to the bookshop. "You in? Cause I know you are, I can sense your 'goody-goody' angel essence here. Plus, you tend to call me when you're gonna take a little trip or do somethin' for Heaven."

He glanced around, there looked to be more dust than usual, and he could smell the unmistakable scent of forgotten tea cups. Bleh.

Which means that Aziraphale either found a new, ancient tome to pour over for days to make sure he reads every single thing, examines every damn, little detail. Or, he's bookbinding/repairing for a commission and completely forgot about everything else in the world, including answering his blasted phone.

Crowley rolled his eyes and headed right for Aziraphale's work space, and as he got closer, he seemed to pick up on a ticking sound. And a metallic ding, followed by some odd sound, then more ticking.

Gosh, that's a combo of noises Crowley hadn't heard in person in ages, mainly you heard it in movies or TV shows from bygone times. Or, when Aziraphale decided to pull it out of its case and use it because his ancient-as-anything computer just won't cut it.

Peeking into the work space, Crowley found a mess.

Papers everywhere, stacked into what had to be piles of organized chaos, or simply discarded, judging by some of the crumbled up paper balls. And there was Aziraphale, with several cups that may or may not contain mold, glaring as he rapidly typed away at a typewriter that had to be from the 1890s.

Aziraphale growled and yanked out the paper. "No, no! Terrible, all of those were incorrect for the scene! Fine, attempt number fifteen should be it..."

The typewriter suddenly had paper again and Aziraphale began typing away, muttering under his breath.

"Hell's teeth, angel, what's all this about?" Crowley asked, picking up one of the discarded papers. He looked at what was on it, and it seemed to be dialogue between two characters, though the conversation was very prissy, very Aziraphale-like.

Aziraphale squeaked and turned, blinking owlishly behind his little glasses. "Oh! Good... uhh... what time is it, dear?"

"It's 10 in the morning."

"Ah! Right, good morning! Dreadfully sorry, been a bit busy lately."

"I can see that." Crowley tossed the paper aside. "You writin' somethin'?"

Aziraphale looked excited. "I am! I decided that it's about time that I add to the literary world, and not just contribute to it through my reading!"

"So, you're trying to write a book." The demon picked up a few more pages. "This is why I haven't heard from you for over a week?"

"It's been over a week since we had brunch?" Aziraphale blinked. "Gosh, I seem to have been more into my work than I thought."

Crowley snorted, tossing the other papers aside into the mess. Then he stopped, and a big, toothy grin came to him. "Brunch! Oooh! This is why you're writing a book, isn't it? Cause I told you that it's a lot of work for good literature, after you complained about all those annoying books that 'popular' authors these days just churn out every two months! You were all 'It takes time and effort for memorable books, anyone who doesn't just want the next paycheck can do it'."

Aziraphale huffed and fixed his bowtie. "I stand by that, Crowley. And it's true, a love for writing and reading can create amazing stories. And I decided to prove my point!"

"From all this paper, and how pissed you looked when I came in, it's not going very well?"

"Well..." The angel coughed, looking away and back at the typewriter, "it is a work in progress, and not everyone can create a masterpiece on the first attempt! Besides, I think I'm onto something with my story, finally! Inspiration struck me and I've been on a roll, I just have to make sure I get everything right! I will not settle for anything less with this specific plot!"

"Uh huh. And what's it about?"

Aziraphale's cheeks pinked and he tugged at his vest. "W-well, it's a secret, I'm not ready to reveal the plot just yet!"

Crowley grabbed a random page off the pile next to him and cleared his throat. "'It would be the most magical of nights, if one excuses the pun, of course. A chance to show my skills to a real audience, on the West End of all places!' I think I can take a wild guess as to what this-"

The page was snatched from Crowley's hands and Aziraphale shoved it into his vest, hiding it from the demon. His face was red and he looked embarrassed. "It's a secret! No reading!"

Crowley chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, I'll just have to wait for when it's finally released. You'll have to let me know when it's available, I'd just love to read it." He lowered his glasses to give the angel a wink before snatching up the forgotten tea cups.

"Now, how about we take a little break, Mr. Writer Man. We can do brunch again."

--

Aziraphale seems like the sort of writer who won't settle for anything less than perfect if he's gonna write something based on his life. And that magical night in 1941 must be correct!

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 4 : Getting Closer

Connor took me home, and when we arrived at the door of my apartment, I didn't want to let him go yet. Was it because of the emotions of today? His company might have been a welcome relief amidst the chaos and adrenaline of work. Sometimes, when we go through intense moments, it's natural to seek closeness and emotional support from people we trust. The feeling of not wanting to let him go could be a reflection of that desire to prolong that moment of comfort and security he provides. Maybe deep down, I simply didn't want to feel alone after such an emotionally charged day.

"Do you want to come in?" My voice faltered a bit; will he notice that I got a little anxious? "If you have somewhere else to go, it's okay, I..." Connor put his hand on the small of my back.

"I don't mind staying a little longer with you." His eyes were gentle. "I want to make sure you're comfortable; it's normal to be stressed after almost falling off a building." He joked. The light-hearted banter about the incident in the building helped to ease the tension of the moment, showing that he was there to support me and also to bring a bit of humor to the situation. His warm and comforting presence likely helped calm my nerves, providing a sense of security and comfort in a moment of vulnerability.

My apartment isn't very large; it's just enough for me, it even has an extra bedroom, but it's empty. I asked Connor to make himself at home; he began to look around my apartment. I went to my bedroom and entered the bathroom inside it; I looked terrible, with a tired face and hair all over the place. I took a relaxing shower; it was like washing away all the tiredness of the day. I put on comfortable pajamas and found Connor in the kitchen, preparing tea.

"I took the liberty of preparing you chamomile tea; you have several types of beverages here." He noticed my presence and digressed, smiling at me as he handed me the cup. All of this gave me a sense of familiarity and comfort; it was warm. The gentle aroma of chamomile tea lingered in the air, bringing a sense of calm and serenity as I enjoyed this moment of tranquility with Connor. We sat on the couch; the TV was on, showing a music award program, one of my favorite android idol groups was nominated.

"What do you do when you're not working with us?" I looked back at Connor.

"I usually go back to CyberLife or do reports for Amanda." He looked at me curiously. "Amanda sends me missions; she created me." He explained. His mention of Amanda as the one who sends missions and tasks added an intriguing layer to his story, suggesting a unique and possibly complex relationship with his creator. The revelation also raised questions about the nature of his existence and his role in the world of androids, leaving a sense of mystery hanging in the air as I absorbed this information.

At some point during the conversation, I ended up falling asleep; when I woke up again, I was in my bed, covered by my duvet. I sat up in bed, and there was a note on the bedside table, written in very neat handwriting: "I thought it best not to disturb your sleep and left. If you need anything, just send me a text or call, here's the contact."

With a smile, I tucked the note away in a safe place, feeling grateful to have someone like Connor by my side. I got ready for work and left. Today I didn't see Connor or Hank; I found it strange, but I let it go. Maybe they had other responsibilities or commitments for that day; I continued with my routine, focusing on my tasks of the day and keeping busy with my chores.

Chris had called me to go with him and Gavin for another investigation, including the androids, although I couldn't stand Detective Reed, I entered. Upon entering the Eden Club with Chris and Gavin, you came across a disturbing scene in one of the rooms there. An android was lying on the floor, with thirium dripping from its nose, while on the bed lay the body of a burly man.

The scene made it clear that something terrible had happened there, possibly an attempt at fun that ended in tragedy. Now, it was time to investigate the details and find clues that could lead to solving the case, Gavin made a comment and I left the room.

Spotting Hank and Connor at the Eden Club, you immediately noticed that Hank wasn't in his best condition. He exuded the smell of alcohol, indicating that his previous night had been filled with drinks and possibly heavy drinking. I looked at Connor, who just shrugged. His shrugged expression suggested a mixture of understanding and detachment towards his colleague's behavior; perhaps he was accustomed to dealing with such situations and knew that, at the moment, there wasn't much to be done besides continuing with the investigation. It wasn't news to me either, so I returned to the crime scene with my two partners.

Connor then reactivated the fallen android, a WR400 model; she seemed very scared and told us what had happened. Really, the guy was disgusting; it didn't justify her situation, however, apparently she wasn't the only one who had been rented. Connor left the room and looked around; he approached one of the androids available for rent at the Eden Club to investigate more closely. He was probably looking for additional clues or trying to find any leads that could help solve the case. By interacting with the androids or examining the environment around them, Connor could obtain crucial information that would aid in the investigation and in identifying the killer.

[panelshowsource]

yes on the 28th!! i'm excited because ALISON HAMMOND!!! every day i'm like whyyy do we not have her on more panel shows she is everything!

victoria spoke about it on her episode of taskmaster the podcast :)

all i know is she's been looking fly as ever — like always! but if she's changing things up a lil then good for her 😌

i would like to anon but they didn't rly have that many moments together on the show, like of substance that make a good gifset 😩 i did do these two! do you have another moment in mind?

omg YES LMAO

richard is so hilariously subtly shady, i love when someone makes the most wrong guess ever (usually during tablet games like the rich list and i'm terrible at dating) and richard does a very obvious scoff-chuckle and goes "yeah? [raises eyebrows knowingly] well [stifled laughter] you never know! let's see if that's right [stifled laughter]" like it just cracks me up — because somehow he's not smug at all despite being mr big brains and someone who teases others a lot

one thing i love about hog is how much richard loves hog — like, that's his baby, he loves doing that show, and he is so obviously having the most fun every single week, which makes it even more fun for us imo!

wow great question!

i have a lot of nostalgic love for comedy world cup — i love david tennant, he's so affable and very funny and a lovely host, and i think that format had legs even if it didn't make it in the end. also from around that time i remember liking mad mad world on itv, which was suddenly cancelled mid run? with paddy mcguinness, rhys darby, rufus hound... —

sorry to digress for a second but remember on some recent podcast ep when sam campbell was like "what's rufus hound up to" and i think it was ed gamble who laughed his ass off lmaooo i feel like there's rufus hound tea out there but idk what it is. anyways

— ...i would love to check it out again but i can't find it! i'll work on that 🤔 then, of course, you have been watching hosted by charlie brooker. it would not have been as strong a format if it wasn't for charlie writing the show and clearly having many topics & rants he wanted to go in for, but i loved that series and saw quite a few comedians/personalities, including vcm, josie long, holly walsh, and peter serafinowicz, there for the first time :')

looks like i had a lil trip down memory lane!

i think it's great! i'm not crazy about dylan llewellyn — i am not super into derry girls, and i felt, at times, his acting was lesser than the others' in a distracting way? is that just me? — but it hardly ruined the show or anything. the cast has GREAT chemistry and jon pointing is a standout (though he doesn't pass for his 20s at all lmao), and i love seeing izuka hoyle who i loved in boiling point and is so(!) gorgeous. tv comedy lives and dies on its editing, and big boys really understands its structure and its beats. i'd also say it strikes a rare balance in its absurdity and its sincerity, which is some of my favourite ever kind of film & tv. god, i just love sad boi comedy. or sad anything. i'm a "let's watch this and cry🤩" kind of person no matter my mood LOL

btw did you see victoria coren mitchell also loved big boys?

sure anon i put it on google drive here :)

i'm not going to host this one but you can request it here and someone will definitely have it to share with you asap! sorry for the inconvenience but lmk if you have any questions :)

—————

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / TAGS / ASK

[castlebyersafterdark]

a few kinda not chill asks sent my way too a while back, about being disinterested or disappointed when fandom blogs get too personal and it just turned my stomach

Ok it might not be me, but ive definitely said this kind of thing to blogs before and i would like to come here now and explain myself and also apologise.

Firstly, context and tone being lost online. i understand it's easy to project and take things to heart that might not even have been about us! been there done that, all day long! but still, i'm sorry that i might have contributed to someone feeling bad because of that.

Secondly and more importantly, it probably was totally unnecessary for me to comment things like that in the first place. ive changed my habits so much in the past few months on this site, and feel so much better. it was wild in the midst of s4, then all the byler shit happening really made me act out in a way that i didnt care for at all. didnt even feel like me! i didnt do anything terrible, but i started to understand the slippery slope of how people end up catfishing and shit. it's the anonymity! you dont stop and think online. well, most don't. but i think you do, vinny. its one of the reasons i love your blog.

which leads me to point three. yes, you talk about personal stuff, but it's so charming and endearing, and never feels gratuitous or self-centred or wallowy. and so, even for someone like me who always wanted byler content more than personal stuff on other blogs, i had a realisation. not necessarily a kind or unkind one, but a truthful one: that being here is kind of like meeting people irl in many ways. some people you click with, others you don't. and that's ok. but in real life you can size people up and judge if you want to associate with them. no shade to those who don't compel you - its just part of being human and you walk away and don't befriend them.

but online is so weird - we can't see each other, don't know our ages or interests or anything except what we're told. so when people you perhaps thought were cool, suddenly turn their blog into something that starts to feel unsafe or just downright rubbish... or perhaps you realise theyre so very much younger than you and it's not exactly manageable to be chatting with them because you wouldn't have such a relationship irl... well, i guess its easy to feel tricked. and you can't see it coming like you might if you were physically associating with someone in person, or with mutual friends who give you perspective. i mean, i definitely shouldn't have interacted with so many younger people in this fandom so carelessly, but fandom can be unclear like that sometimes, when you're thrilling in a shared interest and forgetting how many different life experiences people are bringing to the same thing.

and yeah, i could probably have just walked away and not said anything. that's my bad. i was venting. (not about you, about others and you may have seen it and taken it to heart). so its a combo of internet enabling bad behaviour + the weirdness of invisible online connections, and my own lack of foresight.

but honestly vinny, never once have i felt annoyed by you. I've always loved your insights and personal life things... im drawn to the way you think and speak and it helps that you're self-aware, and seem honest and mature. in fact sometimes i feel a bit weirded out by just how much i love this blog. it feels like a real connection sometimes, even though its still invisible online. you have a real authorial voice, you are original and you are... well, you. what always annoyed me was when other byler blogs just became carbon copies of each other, complaining about the same shit (usually byler doubt) and then suddenly soapboxing about personal problems in a way that would have made me feel unsafe and stressed if i knew them irl.

not to say these bloggers were objectively bad, but just not my cup of tea. i didn't handle it well, i should have just scrolled on past. but i didnt and that was on me. not everyone can like everyone, and that's ok. that's normal. but i wouldnt want anyone to have that life lesson served to them in a bad-shaped box, and especially not by me.

so yeah. apologising in case i had a hand in making you feel that way by proxy. and i hope it can mean something that i don't ever think youre annoying. i genuinely love it here. i can't wait to stick it out with you until s5 drops! and i think i'll be more sad than i thought, because all our speculation and gossip will come to an end with the show.

Posting since you gave the go ahead 😌

This is just a silly fandom blog at the end of the day, but I do feel somewhat vulnerable at times. A lot. It can feel like sending a risky text over and over. I have this inability that once I allow myself to feel comfortable in a place, even an online setting, I do tend to get overly personal and insightful and vulnerable once the edge is tipped over. Slippery slope when you've been a person who's lifelong dealt with pretty severe anxiety and sensitivity, even while being pretty extroverted. Weird combo. I'm a mess! But it's ok.

Situations like this, me making an offhand comment, probably based on off hand comments not at all to do with me - stem from all that. And it's like oh god, mannn why are you like this!?! Chill out! And it's no one's fault - to anon sending this ask: based on how you're explaining and talking here, you may have been one I saw elsewhere that I took to heart but you definitely don't sound like those who sent unkind things over the summer. So it's ok 🥲🙏 We are all works in progress. I've gotten myself in to some situations online, mostly of mine own doing, but also not, and I guess as fun as I have on here and despite the rampant kindness - I'm always bracing for the worst. Because we've all seen what fandom can be like, what the internet can be like.

I feel you though, and anyone else who has their guards up. We can't help what does and does not resonate. I think I know what you mean by going to a space for one thing and then tonally it morphs into something different. I've seen that happen with blogs. And it's so hard because we're human, even if we want to be aloof and disconnected, there's always someone behind every post and page and blog and account (well, unless it's a bot haha), but we aren't going to click with most people and we aren't going to get to know most, either. And it's so much easier for everything to switch up like that online as opposed to knowing a person "in the real world." Without knowing the backstory, the reason. If there's any at all. And I think it's very human to feel some sort of way about these things. The person looking at the screen is just as real as the one one the other side, and there's this digital wall between all of us - connections can be beautiful here, but they can also be frustrating.

I'm really glad that even one person feels affected in a positive way by whatever it is I'm doing here, it really blows my mind when I read kind words. Not trying to sound facetious, it truly catches me off guard and it's always a pleasant reminder. I think that's why I get so anxious and nervous thinking anything I do here is upsetting or annoying or negative. Because I've been that negative presence online in the past and I don't want to be. It's actually kind of funny and sweet that you feel weirded out by liking it here so much, because I feel the same???? Breaking down the reality of being obsessed with a TV show is... kinda fucking weird??? But it's not gonna change for me. This is what I'm into and passionate about and it's sooooo damn cool that others are too and vibe in the way I'm vibing with it.

As always - thanks for hanging out. I'll be sticking around long after our speculation and gossip dies down, and I hope people still want to hang out even after it's over. I'll still keep posting and oversharing and being creative and yes, being annoying about a television show. ❤️

[concreteburialplot]

OKAY SO

CHAPTER 2 OF WALLFLOWER, ah I screamed when I saw you had tagged me! SO EXCITING!

First of, the mastery of your work is brilliant, I love you writing style and I find myself rereading your posts times and times again because I feel like with every read I find something new and more exciting.

I love the plot, the character portrayal is terribly cute, like fluffy little romance your younger sibling tells you so you can both giddy over it.

I'd admit, Sam's flirting style or ig his tip toeing around both his and the MC's feelings is not my thing exactly, because I appreciate straightforwardness and bold moves, while his way is too "heart stuck crushing boy", a little bit too sickly sweet for my personal taste in men or male leads HOWEVER I find it incredibly rewarding to read, it feels like slowly unwrapping a candy and then marvelling at its delicious taste because you can't get enough so you want to take your time. It suits the MC's personality perfectly and I appreciate that because definitely not all people want to or are ready to jump right into admitting their crush/feelings.

It's a fresh gulp of air, a much needed treat for me! So THANK YOU SOOO MUCH for putting all that effort into writing this brilliant piece and I can't wait to read more! 💖💖💖

Ps: hope you're doing well! :*

-Minene xx

oh my goodness hello 😭

this has to be one of the most touching things anyone has ever said about my writing, nonetheless about Wallflower🥹

thank you so much this means the world to me 😭 while i wouldn’t agree that anything i write is worth calling brilliant, i do so appreciate the sentiment and am so so so grateful that you find so much enjoyment out of it 🥺🥹 im glad you like his character even tho its not usually your cup of tea!

and i am so so happy you’re liking it 🩷 this absolutely made my day thank you 🥹💗