#siames my way

[takkytakk]

And maybe I'll make some mistakes

But I'm taking my life in my hands

Oh, I'm better this way

My way

No, you don't understand

So, please, stop pretending

[orykorioart]

June 2023

How could you forget Lup?

[Image Description: A 5-panel illustrated comic featuring Taako and Lup in a limited color palette of pink, light brown, light red, purple, blue and yellow. Taako is is depicted with light brown skin and dark hair, which he ties behind his back. He wears a purple cloak. Lup is depicted with light brown skin and dark hair, which she ties in front of her. She wears a red cloak.

Panel 1: Young Taako and Lup, on both sides of a pot. Lup is stirring as Taako looks in. Below the panel is captioned with purple text:

“What’s the feeling”

Panel 2: Close-up of young Taako and Lup. You can see half of their face, and they are excitedly talking to each other. Below the panel is captioned with purple text:

“When you have a broken home, home, home?”

Panel 3: Pans down to young Taako and Lup’s torso. They are standing close to each other, indicating that they are holding hands. Below the panel is captioned, text in purple:

“Where’s the love when you were left on your own”

Panel 4: Taako’s hand, wearing the Bureau of Balance bracer. His hand is relaxed, but alone. There is a brief out line of Lup’s hand, reaching out for his. Below the panel is captioned with purple text:

“So alone”

Panel 5: Taako is standing center-frame, and you can only see the bottom half of his face and his torso. There is a single tear rolling down his cheek, his mouth slightly agape. He is grasping the Umbrastaff tightly in one hand, holding it close to his chest. There is a faint outline of a hand on his shoulder. Below the panel is captioned with red text:

“Who said you’re on your own?” End ID]

[l-0puko]

the forbidden lines slowly fade away - sugar rush ride (2023)

[moonchild-in-blue]

everything reminds me of him.... :::|

[coolerthancats]

SIAMÉS "My Way" [Official Animated Music Video]

[gauntletqueen]

Brain check! What song is in your head right now?

This because I am listening to it right now hjsafghhgajsf

[flying-pierog-art]

AAAAAARGH I MISSED SIAMES'S LAST GOOD TOUR. THEY HAVE A TOUR NOW. BUT THE SONGS IN MELODRAMATIC ALBUM FRICKIN SUCK. STÖLTZ COME BACK DAMN YOU 😭😭😭

Home album was so good :( and genuinly everything where Stöltz was the songwriter. Cause now the vocals are good but the lyrics are honestly tiring to listen to ._.

Rip SIAMES.

[winwintea]

my funny valentine

PAIRING ↬ best friend!lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, horror, suspense, romance, crack, tooth fairy haechan, <- trust me that'll make sense, they play detectives, stalker au, valentines au, flirty jaemin, songwriter and poet mark lee, painter renjun, they all kinda down bad for y/n a little though

WARNINGS  ↬ teeth. and it's gross. also stalkers !!

SUMMARY ↬ for valentines day all you wanted to do was chill with your best friend. unfortunately for you, there's a little someone claiming to be your secret admirer bringing you cryptic valentine's day gifts. you brush it off until the gifts start getting more and more sinister. can you and haechan solve this mystery before it's too late? (and can he confess some of his own feelings to you while he's at it?)

WORD COUNT ↬ 4.8k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ while this may not be a FUNNY fic, it’s very heavily inspired by MISAMO’s “Funny Valentine” so please go check that song out and give it some love <33

PLAYLIST ↬ the wolf - siames; stalker’s tango - autoheart; bust your knee caps - pomplamoose; smoke and mirrors - jayn; tag, you’re it - melanie martinez; funny valentine - misamo

The air outside is crisp, a reminder that winter hasn’t fully let go, despite the pink and red decorations plastered across storefronts. Valentine’s Day is a week away, and yet, as you step out of your apartment, the holiday is the furthest thing from your mind.

Until you nearly trip over something at your doorstep.

A single red rose rests against the welcome mat, its petals velvety and deep, almost too perfect to be real. A small, cream-colored card, tied around with a black ribbon sits at the center.

You bend down, fingers brushing over the card as you flip it open.

“You don’t see me for who I am, but I see you.”

A strange shiver trails down your spine.

You glance around the hallway of your apartment complex. The usual dull lighting flickers slightly, and the air is still. No sounds of footsteps, no hushed whispers from neighbors. Just silence.

A prank? A weird marketing gimmick? Maybe even a mistaken delivery? You don’t have a secret admirer. Or at least, not one you know of.

Still, you tuck the note into your pocket and step back inside, leaving the rose on the counter as you grab your phone. Without thinking, you call the one person who would get a kick out of this.

The line barely rings before Haechan picks up.

"Yo, what’s up?" His voice is warm, laced with the lazy charm that makes it impossible to tell whether he's just woken up or has been up scheming since dawn.

“You’ll never guess what I just found at my door.”

“You finally got that Amazon package you forgot you ordered?”

“No, you idiot.” You roll your eyes, staring at the rose. “A gift. A creepy one.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, Haechan’s intrigued hum. “Creepy, huh? You have my attention. Spill.”

You quickly relay the details—the rose, the note, the unsettling feeling gnawing at your gut. You half-expect him to laugh it off, but instead, his voice drops into something quieter, more serious.

"And you're sure it wasn't left at the wrong door?"

"I’m not sure about that. My name wasn’t on it, but my neighbors are men. Who would do this to a guy?”

Another pause. Then, a small chuckle. "Well, well. Looks like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer."

"Not funny."

"Are you kidding? It’s hilarious." You can practically hear his grin through the phone. "You're living in a real-life romance movie. Or a horror movie. Either way, I’m invested."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "So what do I do? Just… ignore it?"

"Absolutely not. We investigate. Duh."

Your brows furrow. "Investigate? It's probably just some dumb joke."

"Or," he counters, voice dripping with amusement, "it's the beginning of something way more interesting. C'mon, don't you wanna know who’s behind this? What if it’s some insanely hot dude or chick who’s just so in love with you but socially inept?”

You scoff. "Yeah, because nothing says romance like borderline stalking."

"Hey, some people are just dedicated," he teases. "Look at those BookTok people. And tell you what—meet me at the café in an hour. Bring the note. I wanna see it."

"You’re actually taking this seriously?"

"Of course! A mystery has landed right at your doorstep. And as your best friend, it is my duty to help you solve it."

You sigh. Haechan has always been dramatic.

"Fine," you relent. "But if it turns out to be a stupid prank, you owe me coffee."

"You got it, Valentine."

The café is buzzing with the usual mid-morning crowd: college students hunched over laptops, couples sharing pastries, baristas calling out names over the hum of conversation. The scent of coffee and warm vanilla lingers in the air, comforting and familiar.

You spot Haechan immediately. He’s lounged in the corner booth, one arm draped over the back of the seat, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches you approach.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you slide into the seat across from him. “I was starting to think your mystery lover got to you first.”

You roll your eyes, fishing the note out of your pocket and dropping it onto the table in front of him. “Here. Do your thing, Sherlock.”

Haechan picks up the note with exaggerated care, holding it between his fingers like it’s a sacred artifact. He squints, tilts his head, even sniffs it dramatically before nodding. “Yep. Just as I suspected.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“This is definitely paper.”

You snatch the note back, smacking his arm with it. “Wow, incredible deduction dipshit.”

He laughs, dodging your hand before leaning in, his expression shifting into something more thoughtful. “No, but seriously. This is weird. The handwriting is neat, almost too neat. Like someone either really took their time or… copied it.”

You frown. “Copied it?”

“Yeah. Like, I dunno, tracing someone else's writing. See how the pressure is kinda uneven in some spots? It’s like they were trying too hard to be precise.”

You blink, staring at him. “Since when are you an expert in handwriting analysis?”

Haechan grins, tapping his temple. “I watch a lot of crime documentaries. Also, Renjun had a forgery phase in middle school, so I picked up a few things.”

“Of course he did,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Okay, so say you’re right—what does that mean?”

“It means whoever wrote this was really careful about not being recognized.” He leans back, drumming his fingers on the table. “Which makes me think this isn’t just some dumb prank. They don’t want you to know who they are.”

That unsettling feeling from earlier creeps back up your spine.

“What if it’s someone we know?” you ask, voice quieter now.

Haechan tilts his head, considering. “Could be. Or it could be some rando with a crush. Either way, we have a mission. I’ll show you just how good a duo we’ll be.”

You exhale. “And that mission is…?”

“To find out who’s been leaving you love letters, obviously.” He grins, reaching for his coffee. “And if they turn out to be hot, I take full credit for setting you up.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Hey, I take my best friend duties very seriously.”

You roll your eyes, but still can’t help but feel a bit uneasy by it all.

The uneasy feeling from the café lingers as you make your way home.

"They don’t want you to know who they are."

"What if it’s someone we know?"

You shake the thoughts away as you unlock your door, stepping inside. The first thing you notice is the rose, still resting on the counter where you left it. Something about it feels different now—less like a mystery and more like a warning.

You inhale deeply, trying to push the paranoia aside. Maybe this is all just a prank. Maybe Haechan’s just hyping it up because he loves drama. Maybe—

Your phone buzzes.

[Unknown Number]: Did you like my first gift?

A sharp jolt of fear twists in your stomach. Your fingers tighten around your phone as you stare at the message.

Not a prank.

Your mouth runs dry as you hesitate before typing back.

[You]: Who is this?

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.

[Unknown Number]: You’ll see soon enough.

Your heart pounds.

And then… three quick knocks on your front door.

You jump, whipping around to stare at it. The knock surprisingly wasn’t loud nor aggressive. However it got the message across.

Slowly, you step forward, peeking through the peephole. The hallway is empty. With a shaky breath, you unlock the door and crack it open just enough to peek outside.

A small, velvet box sits on your welcome mat.

Another gift.

You glance both ways down the hall—still empty. Whoever left it is already gone. 

Heart hammering, you crouch down and carefully pick up the box, stepping back inside before locking the door behind you. Your fingers tremble slightly as you open it.

Inside is a delicate silver locket, its chain coiled neatly in the box. You hold it up to the light, examining the intricate engravings along the edges. It’s beautiful—almost vintage.

But when you pry it open, your breath catches in your throat.

Inside is a tiny photograph. One you recognize immediately.

It’s you.

You, standing outside your apartment building, smiling at the camera. But what makes your stomach turn is the person beside you.

Because there was someone beside you. But their face has been completely scratched out. And you have no idea who it is.

Your pulse roars in your ears as your grip tightens around the locket.

This isn’t a joke.

You fumble for your phone and dial Haechan’s number. He picks up almost immediately.

"Yo, miss me already?"

"Haechan." Your voice comes out unsteady, breathless. "It happened again."

A pause. Then, his tone shifts. It’s calm, but sharper now. "I’m coming over."

Fifteen minutes. That’s all it takes for Haechan to show up at your door, slightly out of breath, a bag of convenience store snacks in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Okay,” he says, pushing past you into the apartment, “give me the rundown. And before you ask, yes, I brought emergency snacks because I know you stress-eat.”

You let the door swing shut behind him, arms crossed. “Haechan, this is serious.”

“I am taking it seriously.” He tosses a bag of chips onto the counter before turning to you. “Now, tell me everything before I assume you’ve been cursed by a Victorian ghost.”

You exhale, pulling the velvet box from your pocket and flipping it open. “I found this at my door. Look inside.”

Haechan steps closer, peering down at the locket. He picks it up, flipping it open with careful fingers. His expression shifts immediately—the usual mischief in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker.

“The hell…?” He traces a thumb over the scratched-out face in the photo. “Okay. This? This is officially creepy.”

“No kidding,” you mutter, rubbing your arms as if that will rid you of the lingering unease. “It’s my photo, Haechan. And someone ruined it.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at the image. When he finally looks up, his gaze is sharp. “Where did they even get this picture?”

“I don’t know. That’s what freaks me out.” You sit on the edge of your couch, fingers gripping the fabric of your sweater. “Someone had to have taken it themselves. But I don’t remember anyone standing next to me like this.”

Haechan clicks his tongue, flipping the locket shut. “Alright. That settles it. We need a suspect list.”

You blink. “You say that like this is some kind of crime show.”

“Well, yeah,” he deadpans. “Except way more fun because it’s happening to you.”

You throw a pillow at his head. He dodges it effortlessly, grinning.

“Okay, okay,” he says, plopping down next to you. “Real talk. Do you know anyone who might be obsessed with you? Secret admirer type, or maybe even an ex with attachment issues?”

You think for a moment. And then—

“…Jaemin.”

Haechan’s brows shoot up. “Jaemin?”

You nod, stomach twisting. “He flirts with me constantly, even when I brush him off. Plus, I know I’ve caught him taking pictures of me before, but he always plays it off like it’s just a joke.”

Haechan leans back, considering. “Okay. Solid lead. What’s our game plan?”

You chew on your lip before standing. “We ask him directly.”

Haechan grins, standing up beside you. “Ooooh, an interrogation? Spicy.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Let’s just get this over with.”

And with that, the two of you head out—ready to confront the first suspect.

Jaemin’s usual hangout is the campus library, though calling it “studying” is generous. More often than not, he’s lounging in one of the oversized chairs, scrolling through his phone, pretending to be busy.

That’s exactly where you find him now, stretched out with his feet propped up on another chair, earbuds in, humming to himself.

Haechan nudges you. “Your not-so-secret admirer is in his natural habitat.”

You sigh, straightening your shoulders before striding over. Jaemin looks up just as you plant your hands on the table in front of him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets smoothly, pulling out an earbud. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Haechan plops down beside him. “We have some questions.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “And you’re going to answer them.”

His lips twitch, amused. “Sounds serious.”

“It is serious,” you snap, pulling out the locket and placing it in front of him. “Know anything about this?”

Jaemin’s gaze flickers to the locket, and for the first time, his smirk falters. His fingers twitch like he wants to pick it up, but he hesitates.

“What is this?” he asks, voice quieter now.

“You tell me,” you say. “It showed up at my door today. Someone left it for me, along with a creepy note. And considering how often you love taking pictures with me, I thought I’d start with you.”

Jaemin’s jaw tightens. “You think I gave you this?”

Haechan tilts his head. “Well, you do flirt with Y/N like it’s your full-time job.”

Jaemin exhales through his nose, leaning forward. “Okay, yeah, I flirt. But this?” He taps the locket. “This isn’t me. I’d never scratch out my own damn face.”

Your stomach clenches. “So you recognize the picture?”

Jaemin hesitates for half a second too long. Then, he shakes his head. “No.”

You and Haechan exchange a look.

“You’re lying,” Haechan accuses. “Dude, you hesitated.”

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know where this came from, but I’ve seen that photo before. Just… not like this.”

Your pulse quickens. “Where?”

Another pause. Then, reluctantly, Jaemin mutters, “Renjun’s phone.”

Both you and Haechan freeze.

“What?” Haechan blurts. “Why would Renjun have a picture of Y/N on his phone?”

Jaemin shrugs. “No clue. It was a while ago. I remember seeing it and asking why he had it, but he just brushed me off. Thought it was weird, but not, y’know—this weird.” He gestures to the locket.

You stare at him, heart pounding. Could it be Renjun?

Haechan crosses his arms. “Alright, Nana. We’ll put you on the ‘maybe’ list for now. But if we find out you’re lying…” He drags a finger across his throat dramatically.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Can I go back to existing now?”

You nod slowly, mind already racing ahead.

If Renjun had that photo… What else did he have?

And what would the next gift be?

The walk back to your apartment is tense. Haechan is uncharacteristically quiet beside you, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his brows furrowed in thought.

"You okay?" you ask.

He exhales through his nose. "Just thinking. If Jaemin’s telling the truth, why would Renjun have that picture?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out," you murmur.

When you finally reach your apartment door, a chill runs down your spine. Sitting on your welcome mat is another small box, this time heart-shaped and a deep shade of crimson.

"Of course," Haechan mutters. "Right on schedule."

You swallow hard, exchanging a wary glance with him before bending down to pick it up. Unlike the velvet box from before, this one is heavier. With trembling fingers, you lift the lid—

A soft, eerie melody drifts into the air.

A music box.

But something is… off. The tune warbles and distorts, as if the mechanism inside is struggling to play correctly. It’s haunting, a melody that should be sweet but instead sends a shiver down your spine.

Inside, nestled among the delicate gears, is a small folded note.

A song just for you.

You stare at the words, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Haechan leans in. "Okay, I really don’t like this one."

You shut the lid abruptly, cutting off the melody. "Me neither."

"Who the hell writes you a personalized creepy lullaby?" he mutters. Then, his eyes widen slightly, realization dawning. "Wait. Music. Writing. Oh, come on—"

"Mark." You say his name at the same time Haechan does.

Mark has always been the sentimental type. From writing poetry to composing random melodies in his free time. If anyone had the skills to create something like this, it was him.

You grip the box tighter. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Now."

You and Haechan find Mark exactly where you expect him, tucked away in a corner of the campus music room, hunched over a notebook, a pencil pressed against his lips. His fingers tap absentmindedly against the desk, keeping rhythm to whatever melody is playing in his head.

Haechan nudges you. "Caught him in the act. Very suspicious."

You shoot him a look before stepping forward. "Mark."

Mark glances up, blinking in surprise. "Oh, hey. What’s up?"

You waste no time, setting the music box down on the desk in front of him. His eyes flicker to it, then back to you.

"Did you make this?" you ask.

His eyebrows pull together. "Uh… no?"

Haechan crosses his arms. "You sure? Because we know you write songs. And poems. And you definitely know everything about Y/N—"

"Okay, dude, chill," Mark interrupts, looking bewildered. "What’s going on?"

You exhale, rubbing your temple. "Someone’s been leaving me gifts. Creepy ones. This music box was the latest, and since you’re literally the most musically gifted person I know, I thought—" You hesitate. "I thought maybe it was you."

Mark stares at the box for a moment before shaking his head. "It’s not me."

"Not even a little?" Haechan presses.

Mark sighs. "Look, yeah, I write songs. And sure, I might notice things. Like when you change your coffee order or cut your hair. Maybe I think you’re really cute. But that doesn’t mean I’m stalking you."

Haechan raises a skeptical brow. "Then what about your latest poetry post? The one about ‘loving from afar’?"

Mark’s expression shifts. His ears turn red.

Oh.

You narrow your eyes. "Mark?"

He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "That wasn’t about you, okay?"

Haechan gasps, dramatic as ever. "Then who?"

Mark hesitates, then mutters, "My ex."

You and Haechan exchange a look.

"Oh," you say.

"Oh," Haechan echoes, slightly disappointed. "So you’re the heartbroken one, not the creepy one."

Mark shoots him a glare. "Obviously."

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "Okay. Sorry for accusing you. This whole thing is just messing with my head."

Mark softens. "Yeah, I get it. But seriously, if someone’s messing with you, you should be careful."

You nod, but your mind is already racing ahead.

The moment you step into your apartment, you feel it.

Something is waiting for you again.

Your breath catches as your eyes land on the small, folded piece of paper slipped under your door. The edges are slightly frayed, as if it had been torn from a notebook in a rush.

Haechan picks it up before you can. His fingers brush over the paper before carefully unfolding it. His eyes scan the words, his expression darkening.

You take the page from him and read:

"I see you even when you don’t see me.I wonder if you know how much you mean to me.If I could just tell you—”

The words stop abruptly, the last sentence unfinished.

And at the bottom, only a single initial is signed:

“R.”

You stare at it, heart hammering. "R."

Haechan exhales. "Renjun."

It makes sense. Jaemin had mentioned Renjun having your picture. And now this, a love confession, hesitant and unfinished.

You swallow hard. "We need to talk to him."

Haechan nods. "Before another one of these shows up."

Renjun is easy to find.

The art studio on campus is practically his second home, and sure enough, when you and Haechan arrive, he’s hunched over a sketchbook, completely lost in his work. His pencil moves in steady strokes, the faintest furrow between his brows as he concentrates.

Haechan leans in. “Bet he’s sketching you right now.”

You elbow him before clearing your throat. “Renjun.”

Renjun jumps, startled, before snapping his sketchbook shut. “Oh—hey. What are you guys doing here?”

Haechan plucks the journal page from your grasp and drops it onto his desk. “Care to explain this?”

Renjun’s gaze flickers to the torn-out page. He lets out a sharp inhale, as his shoulders start tensing.

“So it is yours.”

Renjun stays silent for a beat too long before he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where did you get this?”

“It was slipped under my door,” you say carefully. “You signed it with ‘R.’”

Haechan crosses his arms. “Looks real bad, dude.”

Renjun lets out a quiet laugh, but it’s more of a nervous laugh than a humorous one. “Yeah… I can see that.”

Your pulse quickens. “So you did write it?”

Another pause. Then, finally, he nods. “Yeah. But not for you.”

You blink. “What?”

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I did write that confession. But it’s old…I wrote it last year, for someone else.” He taps the page, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I threw this out months ago. I have no idea how you ended up with it.”

Haechan whistles low. “Okay, that’s actually kinda messed up.”

Renjun shakes his head. “ If someone dug this up just to mess with you… That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.”

You grip the edge of the desk. “Then what about those photos you took of me? 

Renjun looks at you, his expression not wavering, “I take photos of everyone. It’s practice for more naturalistic portrayals of human figures.”

A chill runs down your spine.

If Renjun didn’t leave the page for you… then the real admirer wasn’t just watching you. If they had gotten their hands on Renjun’s photos then…

They were watching everyone.

That night, you barely sleep.

Renjun’s words keep replaying in your mind. ‘That’s not romantic. That’s obsessive.’

The pieces aren’t fitting together. The gifts, the messages, the calculated way they’re being delivered. This isn’t just someone with a crush. This is someone who has been planning this.

You’re still lost in thought when you hear it.

A soft thud outside your door.

Slowly, you sit up, heart pounding in your ears. Haechan, asleep on your couch, stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. You swallow hard and push yourself to your feet. Step by step, you inch toward the door, pulse hammering with every movement.

You already know what’s waiting for you.

Another gift.

With trembling hands, you open the door.

Sitting on the welcome mat is a small, heart-shaped box, identical in size to the one that held the music box. But this time, the deep red velvet is stained. Dark splotches sinking into the fabric, like something wet had been resting there before drying.

Your stomach turns.

Slowly, you pick it up. It’s heavier than you expect.

You hesitate. Then, you lift the lid.

Inside, cushioned in soft silk, isn’t chocolate.

It’s a tooth.

A human tooth.

Your throat felt dry as you wanted to retch in disgust, while the box nearly slips from your hands. Your vision blurs as you stare at it, uncomprehending, unwilling to believe what you’re seeing.

Beneath the tooth, there’s a note.

"Now you’re mine."

Your fingers shake as you unfold the small slip of paper.

And that’s when you see it.

The handwriting.

It’s Haechan’s.

Your body goes cold.

Behind you, the couch creaks as he shifts in his sleep.

And you realize—

You’re trapped inside your apartment.

With him.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

Every nerve in your body screams at you to move. But you’re frozen. The weight of the realization crashes over you in suffocating waves.

It was him.

It was always him.

A slow creak fills the silence. The sound of someone shifting.

“Hm… you’re up?”

Your breath stutters as you whip around. Haechan is sitting up on the couch, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His voice is laced with drowsiness, but his gaze—when it lands on you—is sharp.

Too sharp.

His eyes drop to the box in your hands. He sees the note. The tooth. And then… he smiles.

A lazy, knowing smile.

Your stomach twists. “Haechan…”

He tilts his head, still watching you. “You don’t look happy to see your gift. But don’t worry I’ve improved on it.”

Your grip tightens on the box. “Why?”

Haechan exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’ve just asked something ridiculous. “Come on, Y/N. You’re smart. You’ve been smart this whole time. Figuring out clues, questioning the right people.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Except you never questioned me.”

You take a step back. “You helped me.”

“I guided you.” He corrects, his voice smooth. “I made sure you followed the right trail. I led you to suspects just to watch your reactions. Watch you look at them instead of me.” His smile widens, his dimples deep but unsettling. “And you fell for it. Every time.”

Your skin crawls. “The rose. The music box. The torn-out page?”

“All me,” he confirms easily. “Jaemin? Mark? Renjun? They were never real threats. Just distractions. I needed to make sure your eyes weren’t on me until the right moment.”

“And the tooth?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Haechan’s smile fades slightly, his expression unreadable. “That one’s special.” His fingers brush over his lower lip, and something dark flickers behind his gaze. “A part of me. It’s yours now.”

No way.

"Now we match."

A sick realization slithers through you.

Haechan… pulled out his own tooth.

For you. 

A cold sweat prickles down your spine. “You’re insane.”

Haechan only grins. “I’m in love.”

You feel the blood drain from your face.

He sighs, standing up slowly. “I knew you wouldn’t understand right away. That’s why I took my time. I sent gifts and gave you a story to follow.” His voice softens, almost affectionate. “I wanted to watch you figure it out. I wanted to see the exact moment you realized it’s always been me.”

He takes a step forward.

And you take a step back.

His eyes flicker with amusement. “Still running from me?”

Your fingers curl into fists.

You need to get out.

Now.

Haechan watches you like a predator sizing up its prey. His smile is still there, but now, you can see it for what it truly is. A mask. A carefully crafted performance. And you were his favorite audience.

Then, he moves.

Slow, deliberate. Like he has all the time in the world. From his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet box. A jewelry box. He rolls it between his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before sliding it across the coffee table toward you. “I saved the best for last,” he murmurs.

You don’t want to look.

But you do.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the box, flipping it open. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, are a pair of earrings.

The charms dangle from delicate gold hooks, polished smooth. But even in the dim light of your apartment, you can see them for what they are.

Teeth.

Human teeth.

Your stomach twists violently.

Haechan hums, tilting his head. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I worked so hard on these.” His voice drops into something softer, almost coaxing. “You’ll wear them, won’t you?”

Your breath comes in shallow gasps.

You need to get out.

Haechan sees it before you even move. His lips curl into a knowing smirk, and then—

The lights flicker.

A click.

Your front door.

Locked.

Your heart slams against your ribs. “Haechan—”

He only smiles, stepping closer.

“Shh,” he soothes. “It’s Valentine’s Day, baby.”

A flickering TV screen bathes the darkened room in cold, artificial light. The newsroom anchor, a solemn-looking woman, speaks in a measured, professional tone.

"Breaking news tonight—local authorities have launched an investigation into the disappearance of Y/N L/N, last seen on February 14th. Friends report that they were searching for a secret admirer who had been leaving a series of mysterious gifts. However, they never returned home. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please contact—"

The report continues, but the sound is drowned out by the hum of a familiar tune.

A figure strolls past the display window of an electronics store, hands tucked casually into his pockets. His hoodie shields most of his face, but the dim glow of the screens flickers against his features.

Haechan.

A soft, lilting hum escapes his lips.

"My funny valentine…"

He walks on, disappearing into the city’s shadows.

The TV screen flickers.

The missing person poster flashes across the screen.

“The case remains open.”

“For now.”

me when i basically lied in the summary but not really 🫶🤗 love u guys too !!

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[nerd-who-likes-cats]

Akanda Tsum! Or wait... is it Akedya? ... Siam Tsum!

@rakiah has an adorable set of twins. Which twin is this? They won't tell you.

I considered doing both twins, but I realized there could be even more opportunity for chaos if it was just one, but nobody knew which twin it was. (Story under cut)

Akanda and Akedya were sitting outside ramshackle dorm when the portal opened, waking Kat, who they'd been intending to mess with while he slept. They looked up at the bright light as tsum after tsum fell from the sky. Akanda spotted one with red hair set to land nearby, and the two gave chase. They lept after the terrified tsum, only to bonk into each other as the red-haired tsum fled into the undergrowth.

The pair were lashing their tails, ready to pursue it, when they spotted something in another bush, a small pair of ears poking out for just a moment. They darted over, only to find the bush empty, and a small tail peaking down from the branches of a nearby tree. Each time they caught up, it was somewhere different, and they chased this catlike tsum onto the roof and around the chimney until-

Crash! The two boys had chased the tsum over a rotting piece of roof that couldn't hold their weight, and fell into the building. A laughing purr came from above and they looked up to see blue eyes much like their own looking down at them.

As the twins and the tsum locked eyes, a bond and agreement was silently made.

"Let's get out of here before they realize the roof's collapsed" said Akanda.

"I'll carry you since our legs are longer" Akedya told the tsum. And the trio were off.

Once a distance away, the tsum leapt out of Akedya's arms, and dashed off. Right under the feet of some poor guy running across the yard. Noting this man had hair in his face and likely couldn't see well anyways, the twins took the chance to try to show up the tsum and each other, until Akanda saw Rook in the distance watching them, and correctly suggested they run off again before getting dragged back to Pomefiore.

Their phones buzzed at the same time. And they checked to see: "Students, it has come to my attention that the tsums have returned to Night Raven College. All students who encounter one of these small creatures must bring it to the headmages office posthaste."

"This'll be fun" Akanda smirked

"Let's go meet the other tsums" Akedya grinned.

The three were the first to arrive, and Crowley looked between the two of them and the tsum "do you know which of you this tsum takes after?" He asked in a tired voice.

All three smiled at him.

"Its hard to say" said Akanda

"You'll need to know though, won't you" added Akedya.

"Yes I need to know. It's school policy that tsum-alikes are the responsibility of those they take after so I need to know who I'm assigning it to!" Crowley frowned at them.

"Can you tell us apart in the first place though?" One of the boys asked innocently.

"Of course I can!" Crowley lied.

"Then you should have no trouble telling who this tsum takes after" with how the twins moved about, even someone who could identify the pair would have trouble keeping track of who was who.

"This isn't a game." The headmaster said sternly "I am your headmage, so you are going to answer my question."

"Well..." Akanda began.

"Its hard to tell for us too..." Akedya said with a smile.

"But there's an easy way if only somebody could catch him" Akanda lied.

"Yes" Akedya continued "Akedya has a mole on his back left shoulder that I don't, if you caught the tsum we could check."

"But we haven't been able to catch it ourselves. It'll follow us, but won't let us touch it." Akanda shrugged.

Crowley looked at the tsum, which was knocking things off his desk. And the twins sat back to watch what would unfold next. This would be fun.

[draconic-desire]

Alright, let’s hear your thoughts on the Yan!Penacony boys’ theme song(s)

My votes are:

Yan!Aventurine … Dice and Roll (Odetari), Russian Roulette (Tungevaag, Raaban, Charlie Who?)

Yan!Dr. Ratio … Counting Sheep (SAFIA), Mad IQs (I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME)

Yan!Sunday … One Way or Another (Until the Ribbon Breaks), Tonight You Belong to Me (Patience and Prudence)

Yan!Gallagher … The Wolf (SIAMES), Tear You Apart (She Wants Revenge)

——————————————————————————

Please comment your thoughts! I’m building a playlist hehe

[thescarletnargacuga]

THE BULL

A HARLEQUIN AU CAINE SONGFIC

Harlequin AU and ART credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: angst, PTSD, guilt, anxiety, regret, alcohol

~~~

Caine dropped the empty bottle. Numb all over, he slouched in his office chair. His mind finally stopped screaming. Dizzying nothingness awaited him. It was the only potential bit of peace he knew.

Each and everyday, hiding from the sunshine

Wandering in the shade

Not too old, not too young

His soul still aches. That never changed no matter how much he drank. A pain that could never be silenced.

Every night again

Dancing with the moonlight

Somewhere far away, I can hear your call

A giant black bull, covered in colorful eyes, burst through the door. The horned shadow charged Caine, plowing through his desk and throwing him through the wall behind him.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

Caine fell way too far before hitting ground. Getting up, the City of Circuits was on fire. Human families ran and screamed with their children. Puppets brandishing weapons pursued. Gunfire and explosions made his ears ring.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel how your flesh now Is crying out for more

The bull was back. Charging through the swarms of panicked people. It didn't touch them, having a clear path through the chaos to Caine. He tried to run. The ground beneath him crumbled.

Ain't No fairy tail what I see in your eyes

Awaiting your mistakes

Not too close, not too far

The abyss that swallowed him was lined with abstract eyes. He landed in something liquid. He couldn't stay afloat, no matter how hard he tried to swim. He went under, hitting the bottom. It was made of glass.

Sneaking in the pain

Every truth becomes lie

I won't trust myself

Once I hear your call

The roar of the bull was the only warning before impact. The glass prison shattered. The force of the bull tossed Caine like a ragdoll across the hard floor. It's hooves trampled him, excruciating pain stabbed his abdomen and head.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

He saw what he thought was Pomni. She was high up on a platform. He reached out for her. She jumped. She landed face first into the floor, it broke on impact and she disappeared below.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel your flesh now

Is crying out for more

He screamed. He cried until his voice was gone. Then he was surrounded by Pomni. Over one thousand stoic harlequins stared at him. He couldn't look at them. He heard the bull again.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

The bull charged through and the harlequins turned into hundreds of thousands of photos. The faces burned off of all of them. Caine was struck again. He didn't even try to get out of the way this time.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

The blizzard of photographs cleared to reveal scorched earth. The ground was littered with humans and puppets alike. Marionettes of all sizes lurked in the shadows.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

Caine stood alone in a dead world. Only the bull remained. It pawed the ground and snorted, its many eyes all focused on him. He closed his eyes as it charged.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel how your flesh now is crying out for more...

The roar of the bull was the last thing Caine heard before he jolted awake. He was soaked with sweat and alcohol. Bottles littered the floor around his desk. He held his head in his hands. His whole body trembled.

He deserves this.

And he knew why.

~~~

ADDITIONAL ART BY SPECTER HERE!!

[hallowpen]

Episode Eleven has a lot to unpack... including some cultural nuances that even I wasn't too knowledgeable about (so I had to ask my mom for clarification)

We're heading to Chao Fah Palace (คุ้��เจ้าฟ้า) in the province of Phrae (แพร่) for this episode... which is derivative of the old Lanna Kingdom and its culture. (We spoke a little bit about Lanna traditions when referencing the hairpins in episode five). Lanna territories are now part of modern-day Siam. In Lanna tradition, women were known as ช้างเท้าหลัง (pronounced 'chang tao lahng') which would literally translate into "the hind legs of the elephant". What it meant was that the direction of a woman's life and family were to be guided by the authority of a man, ช้างเท้าหน้า (pronounced 'chang tao nahr') "the front legs of the elephant". The woman must learn to accept her place. Lanna Buddhist tradition would preach that being born as a woman in this life meant you had not earned enough merit to be born a man, and to pray for better karma in the next lifetime. Ironically, before the rise of Buddhism, Lanna was one of the few territories to practice matrilineal succession... where lineage was passed on from mother to daughter.

Both of these beliefs were somewhat knit together for TLP's narrative in regards to Uangfah... which we'll talk about later.

ผ้าซิ่นตีนจก (pronounced 'pa sin tin jok') is a traditional skirt worn by women in Lanna. The skirts are known to have elaborate borders with strips of precious metals woven together, with spun gold or silver threads, by using a traditional loom. This technique emphasizes the beauty and value of the weaving, as well as the social status of the person wearing the skirt. The garment was generally reserved for high-ranking members of society.

Another practice steeped in Lanna tradition, is the art of making ตุง (pronounced 'toong'). In the northern dialect, this refers to a type of flag used in Lanna art and Buddhist ceremonies. The flags, adorned with various patterns and designs, are used to mark the boundaries of sacred sites as a symbol of the pathway toward enlightenment.

The series highlighted the Phra That Cho Hae Temple (พระธาตุช่อแฮ), which has rich history as a spiritual center and the most sacred Buddhism site in Phrae. Its highlight is the brass wrapped pagoda that stands 33 meters tall, which enshrines holy relics of Lord Buddha.

The Peacock Feather Dance (รำฟ้อนหางนกยูง - pronounced 'ram faan haang nohk-yuung') is a cultural piece of entertainment that sees dancers move in a circle and change positions in order to imitate the movements and courtship "dance" of a peacock. The dancers wear traditional northern costumes while holding peacock feathers. Known for its striking appearance, the peacock holds deep cultural and religious significance in Thailand. It is often associated with the ideas of beauty, royalty, prosperity, and spiritual awakening.

We are introduced to Uangfah's mother this episode. Princess Dararai holds the title of หม่อมเจ้าหญิง (mom-jao ying or M.C.) for being married to a descendant of the king. Princess Dararai wishing for her daughter to remain close to her after marriage has inklings of matrilineal customs, where the husband would typically come to live with the wife's family... and not the other way around.

The suitor Princess Dararai has chosen for her daughter to marry is Lord Muang-Rahm. Muang-Rahm holds the tilte of หม่อมราชวงศ์ (mom rat-cha-wong or M.R.) as a child of one "commoner" parent, but whose ancestry can be traced back to the king.

Uangfah has accepted the fact the she must submit to her mother's wishes and marry a man she does not care for (he's truly terrible... lesbi-honest). It's a bittersweet moment where we realize the realities of a woman who cannot openly pursue the love of another woman, given the views of society.

The proceeding conversation Uangfah has with Muang-Rahm is subtlety indicative of Lanna women who were in charge in their own relationships. Uangfah quietly inserts her authority over their future courtship by informing Muang-Rahm of her intentions to not wed straight away AND by addressing him by his nickname in front of Pia. Given his behavior, Muang-Rahm knows he cannot say anything untoward in order to save face... such a fun scene.

SHE KNOWS!!! The facial expressions 😂😂😂... you have to laugh

Anil and Pin have become more reckless the more comfortable they have become in their relationship... and that spells trouble ahead.

[telomeke]

4 MINUTES EPISODE 5 – FLASHBACKS, WATCHALONGS AND AN OMINOUS CULTURAL TOUCHPOINT

They're doing a great job with this show and I'm now a newly-minted fan of Director Ning Bhanbhassa Dhubthien, whose confident hand has been assuredly steering the proceedings in 4 Minutes. 🤩

Ep.5 has irrefutably confirmed that the 4 Minutes of the title really is a reference to the four-minute limbo after the heart stops beating (4 Minutes Sultrier Version Ep.5 timestamp 42:20).

So the layers are now being slowly peeled back and more was revealed to us, shedding flashes of light on the convoluted storyline. All is still not clear yet, but some ideas are starting to take shape.

OK, this is mostly guesswork but anyway–

It's quite firmly implanted in my mind now that we're seeing a lot of Great's four minutes of brain activity post cardiac arrest. But what's been percolating in my mind since the last episode is that that we might also be seeing Tyme's four-minute post-death flashback, especially since we also saw him getting shot in the opening sequence of Episode 1.

And so those scenes and sequences shown from Tyme's point of view may also be him re-living his own past experiences (concurrently with Great's?) even as his own heart has stopped.

This thought was triggered by Ep.4's revelation that people who find themselves in the Four-Minute Zone get to enter some sort of common waiting room, and they get to meet others in there too:

And the vibes I got watching this scene reminded me so much of Great and Tyme's conversation at their lakeside glamping in the trailer, which we got to see fully in Episode 5:

I don't think this is Great and Tyme on a romantic date in the real world. Serene, other-worldly and seemingly divorced from reality – this locale has them talking about how beautiful it all is, and Great even says "I wanna stay here forever" before admitting "But we probably can't."

It really looks like this is Great and Tyme finding each other in the four-minute post-death netherworld, with the art gallery meeting room switched up for a more romantic getaway instead (that Great got to choose). And with the clock ticking ominously down to 11:04...

There's also this little snippet from the trailer:

Tyme is locked out of a room, and he calls out for Great even as his surroundings are all sepia-toned and soft-focused.

I think this is 4 Minutes showing us that Tyme's four minutes will be up before Great's are, and Tyme will swept back to the real world – or away to another world – while Great is left behind. (Or maybe it's the other way around?)

Ominously, we are not shown Great's rapture and release from four-minute limbo – as much as I want a Happily Ever After for the two newest pretty boys who have won my heart, 4 Minutes is making no such promises. So I suppose we should prepare ourselves for the possibility that while Great (or Tyme) may well be waking up from a four-minute hiatus and returning to the world of the living at 11:04 – it's not a guarantee that the other will rejoin him there when his own four minutes tick down. 😬💔😭

‌

Anyway, I've refrained from commenting on the numeral 4 as a symbol of death, because this is more a thing in Chinese culture rather than Thai (and up until Ep.5 Thai-Chinese references were at most only faintly present in 4 Minutes).

Well that certainly changed, at 4 Minutes Sultrier Version Ep.5 timestamp 34:50:

The temple where Ep.1 accident victim Khun Manee goes to hire a hitman is unmistakably Chinese. The mafia don she engages with also speaks in Teochew Chinese (I think) at timestamp 36:25.

And so when her siam si/เซียมซี fortune stick shows up with the numeral 4, the link with death is all but confirmed (the word for death in many Chinese dialects like Hokkien, Teochew, Cantonese and Hakka sounds similar to the word for the numeral 4, although there are tonal differences). No surprises then, that the Chinese don tells Manee "Someone's probably going to die."

This had a Thai parallel in Ep.1, when the clock in Khun Manee's hospital room showed us it was thirteen minutes past 1 o'clock in the afternoon:

As portentous as this might appear to occidental minds, it's not just the Western superstition surrounding the number 13 that's threading darker undertones into the fabric of this scene.

In Thai culture (where belief in the supernatural abounds), the numeral 13 is also sometimes considered ill-omened because it looks rather like the Thai word for ghost – ผี – flipped onto its side, adding to the general sense of foreboding in Ep.1.

And for me, this was not meant to foreshadow all the deaths taking place in subsequent scenes and episodes, although it isn't inappropriate as a device.

We have been seeing ghosts in this series – Great, Lukwa, possibly Tyme, and whoever else who found themselves caught in the spectral dimension that exists between life and death in the universe of 4 Minutes.

‌And this may be just my fevered 4 Minutes obsessed brain overthinking things again, but in this light – the paired thirteen (13:13) is likely a reference to the ghostly half-lives of our protagonist couple Great and Tyme, getting to share a precious (final?) four minutes together in that twilight zone between the world of the living and the great beyond.

But it seems more than likely that they will be yanked apart when their four minutes are up. 😧 So will that separation be forever? I wait on tenterhooks to see.

P.S. Links to my own fan theory as to what it all might possibly mean:

And some more supporting information, embedded in the show:

‌

[lurkingshan]

Intergenerational Trauma Challenge - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

It’s winter and I’m huddled up in my house hiding from the cold weather, so obviously this is the perfect time to tackle another entry on the intergenerational family trauma challenge list. This week I finally watched 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, a Thai drama about Wang, a young man just coming of age who is desperately seeking answers about his father’s death; Sasiwimol, Wang’s very complicated mother who does not want to dig up the past; Inthawut, his father’s best friend who has been hiding from it for years; and Siam, the black hole at the center of this story.

Before I dig into the trauma themes, let me just say that this show is excellent, if not for everyone. It has a very intentional style that makes it feel like a stage play—the writer is a playwright—and it’s basically eight episodes of very intense conversations. It’s not a romance and there’s an intellectualism in the writing that I found kept me at an emotional remove from the characters even as I marveled at how well crafted the dialogue is. And the dialogue is very important, which is why the translation of this drama is much stronger than we typically get from Thai productions—the words matter. It’s also loaded with visual metaphors and is all around beautiful to look at, and the three main performers are fantastic. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes theater, stories about complicated families, or beautiful and talented actors showing their work. And more than anything else, this show does incredibly strong thematic work and its messaging is on point: this is a story about how noble idiocy ruins lives.   

So, with that said, onto the trauma! Spoilers ahead, and I am assuming anyone reading past this point has watched the show. Some themes you’ll see in this one: taboo, denial of queer identity, homophobia, filial piety, and lots of emotional manipulation. Shoutout to @bengiyo and @twig-tea for reading this to make sure I didn’t miss anything in this complex story.

There are two main sources of intergenerational trauma radiating down toward Wang: the absence of his father, Siam, and his intense relationship with his mercurial mother, Sasiwimol. The story is structured around Wang’s determination to seek answers about Siam—both who he was and how he died. He has grown up knowing a certain story: that his parents met and fell in love in college but divorced when he was young, that his father loved him very much despite not staying with his mother, and that his father was an alcoholic who died in a drunk driving accident. Shortly after his father’s death, his mom put him in boarding school so she could focus on her career and became a weekend parent to him—as she was not around to structure his day to day life, their relationship became more about her taking him on fun adventures and spoiling him when she had time off, treating each other as best friends instead of like a mother and son, and never talking about Siam. He has always suspected there was more to the story of his parents that he was not being told, and as he has grown up, come into his own queerness, and picked up on his mother’s casual homophobia and obsessive devotion to compulsory heteronormativity, his suspicions about the secret his mom was holding became sharper. 

Enter Inthawut. Inthawut was Siam’s best friend, and with nothing to go on but a set of old pictures, Wang has an instinctual certainty that he is the key to the secret he’s seeking. And thus he engineers a way for he and his mom to “coincidentally” stumble onto Inthawut’s property and get invited to stay a few days in his isolated home, at which point Wang begins his campaign to figure out what the hell happened between Siam, Sasiwimol, and Inthawut at any cost.

One of the things I find most interesting about this story is how much the plot hinges on Wang going against Asian cultural norms in his pursuit of the truth. He is not respectful to his elders. He does not maintain filial piety and deference to his mother. He refuses to restrain his emotions. Instead, he is pushy and relentless and emotionally manipulative (all tricks we can plainly see he learned from Sasiwimol) and Inthawut doesn’t stand a chance against him. And so, because Wang explicitly acts against these cultural values, the truth comes out and the trauma is no longer suppressed. 

And in the end, it’s a simple, if desperately sad story: Siam and Inthawut were in love, but Inthawut was battling internalized homophobia and deep-seeded fear and so he relentlessly pushed Siam away and toward dating and then marrying their friend Sasiwimol. And when Siam, miserable in this heterosexual relationship he never actually wanted, finally snapped and confessed his true feelings, Inthawut rejected him and ran away to study abroad. Inthawut was running due to his own fear, but he also had noble notions of somehow protecting Siam from his own queerness and told himself that if he was gone, Siam would accept his heterosexual life. Of course, that did not happen, and in the fallout of this rejection Siam sank further into alcoholism and died soon after. Inthawut’s reaction was the exact worst fear of all gay people who work up the courage to confess to a friend they have developed feelings for: outright rejection, abandonment, and destruction of the relationship. And in his mind, he did this to Siam “for his own good,” a fairly textbook execution of the noble idiocy trope. In the aftermath, we see how Inthawut has isolated himself, part in penance, part in self-protection, and intellectualized his way to a romantic construction of his own cowardice that he tries to convince Wang is righteous.

But Wang is deeply affected by how the denial of his father’s queerness ruined his life and is absolutely not having any of Inthawut’s self-denying bullshit, and this is where things get messy, as both Wang and Inthuwat seem to start seeing Wang and Siam as interchangeable and they develop an emotional entanglement that is deeply unhealthy, to say the least. Wang wants to understand Siam so badly that he starts to be him, and Inthuwat is so desperate to address his regret and shame that he starts to see Wang as Siam, as well. Wang also uses this attachment as a way to shock his mother and forcefully bring her real feelings about Siam and Inthawut to the surface. Despite Wang’s many loud protestations to the contrary, I don’t believe that he and Inthawut actually love each other. They are using each other to work out their trauma about Siam.

And they’re not the only ones! Sasiwimol seems to have her own psychological confusion about Wang as he relates to Siam, and their dynamic is very strange as a result. She refers to Wang as dua-eeng (and has taught him to do the same with her rather than calling her “mom”), a Thai endearment that literally means “self” but is often used between lovers. They have a very physically affectionate relationship that often had me grimacing in discomfort, and she clearly sees Wang as both a source of pain—because he is so like Siam—and her one source of comfort and happiness. She is a successful woman by any standard, but she’s also desperately lonely, hanging on tight to Wang as her only companion in a way that often veers into overbearing, and deeply wounded by her past with Siam and Inthawut. It was through her own friendship with Inthawut that she pursued Siam in the first place, and she clearly feels betrayed not only by Siam, but by Inthawut, both for getting in the way of her relationship with Siam and for leaving them. Her feelings about both men are complex and the story never fully spells them out, in part because Sasiwimol never does. Determinedly not thinking about what happened between them is a big part of how she copes, along with sublimating her suspicions into homophobia, which she perpetuates quite intentionally in her work via production of heterosexual romance propaganda.

Wang clearly loves his mother even as he is frustrated by her prejudices, her desire to control him, and her tendency toward emotional manipulation. He is a perceptive kid and he has studied her closely; he understands her very well and can often predict exactly how she’ll react to a situation. Which is why his decision to announce baldly to her face that he is in love with Inthawut—not only coming out as gay but declaring his intention to move out of her home and in with a man 20+ years his senior who is deeply entangled with her own trauma—felt very intentional to me. He knew what kind of reaction that would get from her, and he wanted it. And sure enough, Sasiwimol crumbles at this repetition of her trauma and the perceived disloyalty of Wang choosing Inthawut over her just as his father did. The rest of the emotion she’d been holding back comes pouring out, resulting in the three of them finally airing out everything that lies between them and everything they are feeling about the Siam-shaped hole in their lives. And once she breaks down, Wang is able to forgive her for the grievance she’s caused him and ultimately decides to remain filial and continue living with her, because he does not actually want to punish his mother for what happened to his father. 

So, in the end, where did the story leave us with all this trauma? I can’t really say that any of these characters have healed, but I do think Wang kick-started that process, at least for himself. He got what he needed most out of this little scheme: deeper understanding of who his father was and why his life took such a drastic turn. He remains caught in the dysfunctional dynamic with his mother, and I’m not sure he’ll ever fully break out of it, but at least there is more honesty between them now about what they’re dancing around. She now knows he is gay and she has to accept it to keep him with her, and given that he has backed off from asking her to accept something much scarier than that, I do think she will find a way to make her peace with it. Inthawut is the character who seems to have progressed the least, standing firmly in his stasis and remaining determinedly alone with his pain, though the show leaves us with a note of ambiguity that suggests he may someday find the courage to move on.

The messages of this work are clear. Internalized homophobia and denial of your own queerness are poison for your soul. Rejecting a loved one “for their own good” is an act of cowardice and selfishness, not an act of love. Hiding from and sublimating your trauma will never allow you to heal. Refusing to process your pain will only lead to you pushing it down on the next generation. Ultimately, this story told us that bravely looking ourselves and our trauma in the face and confronting our truths head on is the only way to begin to heal, and that running from them only leads to ruin. 

[sgiandubh]

Thank you for your opinion. I think it's fascinating to have a look bts of diplomats. Maybe, if you feel like it, you could comments more like this on political events.

Anyway, have a great weekend.

Dear (returning) What's Your Take Anon,

You are welcome. I have answered because I found your question very thoughtfully written, something I always appreciate.

This page always claimed to not deal in politics, something that permeates my life, willy-nilly, every single day. I wanted to have some respite from it at least in here, where I can steer the course totally by myself. Plus I think we already live in a divisive world: why drag it in here, anyways? Look at how people insult each other for the sake of These Two!

That being said, I will always answer with great pleasure questions like the one you sent me, because I find way too many people think of us either as perks-laden parasites or cliquey profiteers. Not saying this does not exist, but let's not put everybody in the same boat. I have met the worst and the best, but the one thing I do know, is that the feeling of serving one's country is perhaps the most gratifying one can experience.

For this, Anon, there's no excuse and no recess. So there you go, if you want to understand a bit more about the way things are done behind closed doors, go ahead and ask. Comments on current events? Not as much as you'd probably like, but you will easily guess my stance - we are simply trained to not lay all our cards on the table, if possible. That would be bad poker, something I have seen yesterday aplenty.

[Antoine Coypel - Louis XIV at Versailles receiving the ambassadors of the King of Siam, engraving, 1686]

[waitmyturtles]

SOME GOOD SHOWS THAT I LIKED IN 2023! (AND SOME THAT I DIDN'T)

I watched A LOT of stuff that did not originally air in 2023 by dint of my Old GMMTV Challenge. This list is inclusive of this recognition!

THE BEST SHOW I WATCHED THIS YEAR: HE'S COMING TO ME

I have no other words: this is my favorite Thai BL of all time. Perfect length, perfect plot, perfect celebration of Thai culture, perfect acting, the greatest coming out scene of all time, the BEST of the best BL moms. Perfection.

THE OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THIS YEAR: BAD BUDDY

I don't even want to think about how many words I've written on Bad Buddy this year, but they're well deserved for this REMARKABLE show. I've got a thing for shows by Aof Noppharnach that feature Ohm Pawat, what can I say!

THE MOST INFLUENTIAL SHOW(S) I WATCHED THIS YEAR: LOVE SICK AND SOTUS

The influence of Love Sick and SOTUS can be seen in SO MANY Thai BLs, even through today. Without having watched these two shows to start my OGMMTVC project, I wouldn't have the context for what later shows like Bad Buddy and Theory of Love were commenting on by way of their content and structures. Love Sick in particular was a HELL of a lift -- but I am damn glad I watched it, and I certainly feel nostalgia for it today.

Honorable mentions of influential pieces that had impacts on Thai BLs: Love of Siam and Dew the Movie

MY OTHER FAVORITE OLD SHOWS I WATCHED: UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN AND THEORY OF LOVE

BANGERS!!!

If New Siwaj ever tops Until We Meet Again, I'll fly to Bangkok and give him a gold medal. That long-ass show, 17 EPISODES, I WANTED MORE! OhmFluke's chemistry was great, the story delved SO deeply into historical homophobia and how culture and acceptance changes over time -- scrumptious. Theory of Love, man, the way this show ate up implicit compassion bias and gave it right back to us. I loved it. KHAI FOREVER!

THE BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: MOONLIGHT CHICKEN

Not only was Moonlight Chicken my first real live fandom experience on Tumblr, it was a hell of an amazing show, incorporating so much of what I love particularly about Thai BLs, and how many Thai BLs do not shy away from celebrating Asian cultural touchpoints. From exploring Jim's internalized homophobia by way of his rural upbringing, to juxtaposing Pattaya's spiritual symbols with growing development that upends older strains of local culture, Moonlight Chicken offered a lovely commentary on what it means to be queer in an ever-changing Thailand.

THE OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: WHAT DID YOU EAT YESTERDAY?/KINOU NANI TABETA? SEASON 2

BRILLIANTLY ACTED by literally the best actors in the Asian BL game: we are blessed that Nishijima Hidetoshi and Uchino Seiyou have given so much to this franchise. It's hard to write about this show because it's so perfect -- it needs no extraneous words. Plot, pacing, acting, character development, gratuitous food shots. It has it all.

THE OTHER OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: I CANNOT REACH YOU

Just like Bad Buddy looked at Thai BL tropes in the eye and said, "over my Nong Nao," I Cannot Reach You asked Japanese BLs about the efficacy of almost every trope we've gotten used to, and questioned them with efficiency. The biggest shocker for me? REAL COMMUNICATION, encouraged by the CIPHER, Hosaka, that allowed the two lead protagonists to confirm their love and understand each other. It was straightforward and FUCKING GOOD.

A SHOW THAT AIRED IN 2023 THAT I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ABOUT YET, THAT I NEED TO REWATCH IN CHRONOLOGY, THAT ALSO DID SOME TROPE/GENRE ASS-KICKING THAT I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT: LA PLUIE

La Pluie was FEARLESS. The show had a LOT to say about romance and soulmates not being as much of a realistic thing as content-makers... and, frankly, majority society would like us to think. La Pluie made its characters WORK for love and understanding, and had us viewers face our implicit biases about how romantic content should and could work. I watched this show out of order of the OGMMTVC watchlist to see it it was one of the best of the year, and it certainly is. I'm planning a deep rewatch for early 2024 to pen my words on it.

A SHOW THAT ALMOST TOPPED MY 2023 LIST BUT GOT DOCKED BECAUSE I ENDED UP LIKING THE NOVEL A LOT BETTER: I FEEL YOU LINGER IN THE AIR

@neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan know that I flipped THA FUCK out over this show -- FABULOUSLY acted by Nonkul Chanon and Bright Rapheephong, FABULOUS cinematography, great story up until the end of the series. My fangirling led me to read the original novel by Violet Rain, and -- I found out that Jom was a lot more damn sassy than we got in the show! Tee Bundit's penchant for sadness won. This is not to dock the show, but the novel had more than enough material to carry the series through without repeating themes in the end. So it fell on my 2023 list, womp womp. BUT I STILL LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SHOW, DON'T GET ME WRONG.

TWO SHOWS THAT I'M SUPER GLAD I CAUGHT UP WITH WHILE THEY WERE AIRING: THE EIGHTH SENSE AND BE MY FAVORITE

Be My Favorite looked at Krist Perawat's checkered past as a BL idol and said: we are going to examine this and make an honest BL out of inspiration from it. It wasn't a perfect show, the time travel shit didn't end up adding up in the end, BUT -- excellent acting from two GMMTV VETS made up for those tangles, and I loved the contextual philosophical references throughout the series. The Eighth Sense looked at the tug-of-war that Korean BLs have with K-dramas and their tropes and said, actually? We will have these dudes full-frontal kiss, and placed that energy against commentaries on mental health, both topics that Korea hasn't quite embraced as quickly as other countries.

HONORABLE MENTIONS OF OTHER AWESOME SHOWS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE AIRED IN 2023

Make It Right, Our Dating Sim, Dark Blue Kiss, Gay OK Bangkok, Dirty Laundry, 10 Years Ticket, I Told Sunset About You, I Promised You the Moon, 3 Will Be Free, Lovely Writer (underrated?!), Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars (UNDERRATED!), and Manner of Death.

And the shows that are airing that I know will stay with me well into 2024: Last Twilight and Cherry Magic Thailand.

I had fun!

WHAT ELSE, WHAT ELSE: THE "NO" SHOWS: THE PROMISE AND STEP BY STEP

I'm not even hyperlinking my thoughts on these shows, nor gifting them with gifs. Insert Bugs Bunny NOOOOOO gif here! We got Man Trisanu, though.

THE SHOW I WAS THE MOST OBVIOUSLY DISAPPOINTED BY: ONLY FRIENDS

Despite my passionate disappointment for this show and how it ended: in the context of the OGMMTVC, Only Friends is still an incredibly important inclusion to the list. Some amazing Tumblr bloggers offered commentary that the bias against sex that OF contained within the show was actually importantly and culturally contextual to the still-conservative state of acceptance that Thailand is currently in (here and here for more reading).

Only Friends reminded us that despite any kind of marketing that we here on Tumblr, as a majority non-Thai audience, may receive about a Thai show -- that we are still not fully plugged into the non-verbal expectations of what a show like OF could promise to do, and to be okay when it doesn't reach those heights. In light of the seemingly pro-sex marketing blasts that previewed the series before its airing, OF ultimately seemed to want to take casual sex, chew it up, and spit it out. There might be reasons why that happened that we just don't know about as outsiders to Thailand. But as an Asian-American viewer that was hoping for neutral -- and maybe even supportive -- commentary on single folks having casual sex without judgement, OF did not deliver for me.

I'm ending the year reading Dr. Thomas Baudinette's book, Boys Love Media in Thailand, the first book-length ethnographic study on the impact of BL on queerness, media, and more in Thailand and across Asia. Baudinette comes from the world of Japanese queer media studies -- as someone who came to Thai BLs this year from Japanese BLs, I appreciate his trajectory. It's clearly a necessity for me to read this book in the context of the OGMMTVC, to understand how Thai BLs have changed over time, and to understand the incredibly larger impact of heterosexual/heteronormative media and themes on Thai media as a whole, as larger and larger swaths of Thai, Asian, and international societies welcome and watch BLs with open arms.

All of this feeds into my ever-growing body of knowledge about the impact of Thai BLs, both in Thailand and across Asia, as Baudinette writes about, and how these shows have and are developed/developing over time. It's been an AMAZING YEAR of watching old and new dramas for me, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the genre grows even more in 2024.

I also made AMAZING FRIENDS on Tumblr -- y'all know who you are! What a year of growth and discovery for me: this has been a fabulous experience, and I'm looking forward to even more growth in the new year!