#Are their favorite with elaborate back stories and lives
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both have the defining newsies fan trait of looking at some ratty background kid and giving them so much love and personality to a kid who plotwise does nothing but means the world to a handful of people
The difference between 92sies fans and Livesies fans is so funny to me.
Because on one hand you have fans that analyze every aspect of the movie; will talk about how even though Christian Bale and the other actors don’t have the best singing or dancing, they are kids with spirit and are just so authentic; will defend the movie with their lives; affectionately call Newsies their comfort movie; cry just thinking about how excited the actors were for their movie to be on the big screens but the box office was horrible; will criticize Disney and other corporations; will point out how the movie went over basically everyone’s heads; and will write full essays about why the movie is so good and how nothing will ever come close to it.
And then on the other hand you have fans who scream “BEN COOK!!!!” And “KATHRYN!!” And “The poor guy’s heeaaad iiiiiissss SPINNNING” as well as say “woah :o Davey says a snake rattles because it’s scared :o how did he know that :o I didn’t know that :o he’s so smart :o”
#Someone please force me to make an essay or long post on just how heart warming and meaningful as someone who always got ...#Ensamble nobody's to see from both newsies versions just how much people care about these kids#In any other show Finch would have just been another nameless ensemble that yeah I'd be happy to be in the show but no one...#Giving a shit about who I played but this is newsies he has fans fanfiction moodboards even memes and people love him...#Both livesies and 92sies fans will dedicate so much love to some random kid that says a handful of lines at most but to some people...#Are their favorite with elaborate back stories and lives#Sorry for rambling in the tags I have a lot of feelings about newsies especially Finch I played him twice so he's personal#Watching the bonus stuff on the 92sies DVD almost hurts how hopefull every single person was for the movie...#But the audio commentary was made for the 10th anniversary only a few years before the musical and so many of the creative team...#Talk about hopes for a musical it was only rumors at that point but it ment people cared enough to keep newsies alive and wanted more...#I hope everyone is proud of where newsies is today#Also back to your actual post yeah 92siew fans tend to have much more eloquent takes on shit where as I have bought a sticker about...#Ben Cook kicking himself in the face and proudly put it on my water bottle for theater so my cast could see it
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Manga Rec: The One Within The Villainess
Hey tumblr, I heard you like unhinged women.
The One Within The Villainess is the story of the elaborate revenge plan the protagonist/villainess Remilia enacts on those who had hurt the one she loves the most: the girl who was possessing her body.
It starts as a typical Isekai: Emi, a girl from our world, dies and reincarnates in the body of the villainess of her favorite otome game, Remilia, and decides she will live a happy, generous life. But here is the thing: Remilia is not gone. She is trapped inside her own body, so she can both acess Emi's past memories and watch as Emi lives her life.
And Remilia loves it.
The villainess, from within her own body, genuinely starts to love and adore Emi as her own sister.
But then something (or better, someone) happens (if you know the genre, you can imagine what), and all the friends Emi had tried so hard to make to give the villainess Remelia her happiness suddenly betray her. And the emotional shock is so strong that Emi gets "reverse isekaied": she goes to sleep inside the villainess, and Remilia, who had been watching over her for years now, takes control of her own body back.
And my girl is insanely pissed.
And so starts the journey of our villainess to both achieve "The Villainess Remilia's Happiness" that Emi tried so hard to give her and enact her extremely elaborated and cruel revenge plot against those who took Emi from her. She's unhinged and insanely smart and I love her.
The support cast is pretty good too, and the artwork is amazing. The plot doesn't fall back into cliches and the pay off is immensely satisfying.
Please, give The One Within the Villainess a try. You can read it here. And if you do read it let me know what you think!
#in this house we support women going insane to defend other women#the one within the villainess#manga rec
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: “OUR THING”
library. p. enhypen x gn!r g. head cannons, fluff wc. ~70 each © iseos
lee heeseung — monthly movie day
— what started as an excuse to stay in bed all day, eventually turned into something you both looked forward to every month: movie marathon day. in the weeks leading up to it, you and heeseung would create a long list of everything you wanted to watch together in preparation. rarely did either of you venture out from the bed, preferring the comfort of being tangled together under a pile of cozy blankets.
jay park — baking
— once a week, the dorm's kitchen would be taken over by the two of you as you attempted to back new recipes together. flour clouds dance in the air as you both navigate through spilled vanilla extracts and dough mishaps. Amidst the laughter and occasional flour fight, your bond strengthened with each perfectly golden pie or slightly burnt batch of cookies.
jake sim — cafe hopping
— every weekend, you'd both set out to explore different cafes around the city, savoring the diverse menus and unique atmosphere of each location. at every stop you'd try new drinks and pastries while people-watching from your table in the corner of the room, creating elaborate life stories for the other customers around you and imagining their adventures and secrets.
park sunghoon — handwritten letters
— without a set schedule, you exchange handwritten "love letters" with each other at unexpected moments. you'd find them tucked under a pillow, slipped into a coat pocket, or just plainly left on a desk. these notes allowed you both to express the feelings you struggled to articulate in conversation. in the fleeting moments when the letters are discovered amid the rhythm of daily life, they offer solace and forge a deep connection through written expressions of love.
kim sunoo — indoor picnics
— every sunday, without fail, you spend the afternoon under the warm sun, surrounded by cute snacks. this routine lasted almost a month until the sky decided to intervene with an unexpected rain shower, threatening to cancel your plans. undeterred, you proposed relocating indoors. in an instant, your apartment living room transformed into your new go-to picnic spot, complete with comfy blankets and homemade snacks.
yang jungwon — star gazing
— whenever the weight of his idol and leader responsibilities became too much, you and jungwon would escape to the rooftop, lying side by side on a blanket. the expansive night sky, adorned with countless stars, became your sanctuary. with the cool breeze gently whispering around you, both of you with trace constellations, sharing soft laughter and momentarily escaping the world below in each other's comforting presence and the twinkling night sky.
nishimura riki — blanket forts
— the living room quickly transforms into a fortress of pillows and sheets upon hearing the first rumble of thunder outside. you both meticulously arranged cushions and draped blankets until it was almost impossible to move about the room from outside the fort, much to the annoyance of the other members in the dorm. inside, you both would spend the evening surrounded by snacks, playing games together on your phones, or watching your favorite shows together.
#iseos writing ࿐ྂ#k-labels#enhablr#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen headcanons#heeseung headcanons#jay headcanons#jake headcanons#sunghoon headcanons#sunoo headcanons#jungwon headcanons#niki headcanons
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Yayyy!! Yippee!! I finally get to make one of these!! Art without the text under the cut and some long-winded elaborations:
How long I've been playing: well, it hasn't been a straight 11 years, rather off and on - but I have drawings of these guys dating back to when I was 14, so I'll give it to me. And man I had no business reading the fanfics I was reading back then It's also crazy how this was a super influential media for me in so many ways. It's the reason I ever made a tumblr, it changed the direction of my drawings for a long while, my broken sense of humor (gmod animation memes and yt poops were the brainrot back then), tf2 Sniper changed my god damned gender (rather, it was the inspiration for me to start socially transitioning at 15). This is part of my personal lore that I tend to not admit to 😓
Your main: I've always been completely ass at the game, and I can play flexibly, but I enjoy playing Sniper, and more recently as Heavy. Whenever I'm sitting around somewhere, occasionally throwing sandwiches and attracting Medics, I feel like this:
Favorite character: When I was younger it was definitely Medic, and I think you can tell that he's still up there based on how much I've drawn him! However, since getting back into it, I've felt quite a shift in focus towards Heavy, very strongly. It's unfortunate that he's side-lined in a lot of fanwork, and I think I'm also complicit in this so far - but for me it's cuz, how tf2 works is that it's going to prioritize humor over character and consistency haha, and Medic is just so loud and insane that he's really easy to make fun stuff with. Heavy is a more serious and grounded character, not to say that he's not funny or that he doesn't have his own cartoon slapstick moments! But that aspect of him is what is really really intriguing to me. I love his quiet, stoic, and intimidating character, I like how loud and boisterous he is when filled with bloodlust in contrast! I love his bird story and him getting into wrestling as a child from Poker Night. I love his back story setting, there's so much to extrapolate from a young boy in Russia growing up during WWII, what his parents must have been through before that from the aftermaths of the revolution, all the way to his fathers execution and his imprisonment. I love his strong relationship with his family, his role as an older brother, as a protector, as a man - the way that he performs these roles - and because I personally see him as bisexual - how his orientation intersects with all that! He is incredibly fascinating to me and I wish that he was played around with more to see a lot more corners and angles of these things that I listed! There's way more that I want to say here too but this is getting very long 😅
Character I relate to: It's so interesting that a lot of the characters have very strong, tho maybe dysfunctional, families. Heavy, Demo, and Sniper in particular really speak to me in that relation. From Heavy being an eldest brother (I am also an eldest sibling) the parentification that comes with that, especially with him probably being like 10 years older than his sisters from the looks of it. Demo and Sniper both struggle living up to their parents expectations (although there's a lot of love there from everyone), being disappointments in one way or another (not gonna deep dive into that lol), and the general alienation both of them feel. From Sniper not knowing why he's not like other Australians to Demo being "a black Scottish cyclops." And well, I'm Filipino, I'm queer, and mentally ill so - there's a lot to project there!
Class you want to play as: I find Medic incredibly stressful to play as but I find the idea of battle medics incredibly funny. However I usually find myself rushing around madly trying to cater to everyone, and I'd like to just not give a shit and just start stabbing people with a saw lol
Favorite ship: "I just like the dynamic" - The dynamic:
No but fr, they're really compelling to me, I'd probably need a longer more thought out post as to what I like about them and I was already going crazy up there ^ Overall tho I like that they're practically built for each other in terms of mechanics, really plays into my desire to spiral into intense codependency haha. I also think that Medic's drive to cheat death and hide behind meat shields plays really well into Heavy's desire to be a meat shield and a protector, and how nice it is in turn, that Medic can grant this man who's been around death, starvation, and war invulnerability. (He outsmart boolet, yknow?) They're also depicted together a lot and I like how much they enjoy each others company, and bring a lot of joy to each other. It's beautiful to me :'^)
Character you like to draw: What can I say! Medic is handsome! He is very fun to draw and easy to make memes and shit posts out of!
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
"NIGHT TIME RELIGION"
EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"
→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 2.3k+ → a/n: just a simple, sweet glimpse into what our favorite idiots' nighttime routine is like. probably got a little too poetic with it, as always <3
enjoy the main story's masterlist here
“You fell asleep again.”
It’s not a question, just a mere observation. Eddie doesn’t even put any emphasis on the key word there, that it had happened again, as he glances up on you sprawled out on his couch.
“Nuh uh,” you childishly rebuke, ironically squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you let your cheek nuzzle deeper into the page of the textbook you’d been taking notes on, “I’m… I’m wide awake.”
Every word painfully slurs with your next, voice mostly muffled. If he hadn’t been so close to you from where he was sitting on the floor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to make out what you’d just murmured.
It only makes him laugh softly as he focuses back on whatever piece of equipment he’d brought into the apartment that belongs to his bike, “Sure you are, sweetheart.”
The coffee table is spread with hand towels and paper towels alike as Eddie fiddles with the hunk of metal. You hadn’t even prodded him about what it was he was fiddling with; you were too busy, knee deep in your studies as you’d made yourself comfortable in his living room.
It was a normal routine now – something cozy, something domestic. Instead of being holed up in your dorm these days, you found yourself occupying apartment 2C far more frequently than you’d ever admit to anyone else. Half the time, the two of you didn’t even have plans. It wasn’t about elaborate date nights or purposeful hangouts anymore; these days, the two of you simply enjoyed one another’s presence. It was enough to just know he was there with you, in the same room, as the two of you were occupied with your own individual tasks. Sometimes, he would be reading a book as you wrote your essays. Sometimes, he’d steal your laptop to shop for new bike parts and accessories online as you caught up on your favorite TV shows. There had been plenty of phone calls with Nancy in which Eddie had let you simply rest your head in his lap, hands mindlessly carding through the scalp of your hair as he tried to offer assistance to his best friend’s daily troubles and rambles.
It was nice, and it was normal, and it was something the rest of the world would have to pry from your cold, dead hands.
The apartment could have easily become something akin to a prison after the bet, but it hadn’t. Instead, somehow and someway, you and Eddie had turned it into a proper sanctuary.
You no longer spent lectures daydreaming about returning to your dorm; your mind much preferred longing to return to Eddie’s room, to picture falling face down in his bed, where the pillow on the right side had begun to smell of your shampoo rather than his cologne.
“It’s getting late,” he sighs when he hears you go silent again. He’s not annoyed by any means. If he had it his way, he’d probably curl up on the couch with you for the rest of the night, content to fall asleep to the view of your face smoothing out in peaceful rest. But he knows if he leaves you be, you’ll wake up with an aching back and an attitude that makes even Harrington cower. He puts down his project for the night, wiping his hands on a damp paper towel before he reaches blindly behind himself to give you a few taps on your rear, “C’mon, we need to get ready for bed.”
You swat his hand away, and it only makes him grin, “It’s not that late. Plus, I’m comfy.”
“It’s half past eleven, baby.”
And oh, do you shoot straight up at that.
Your eyes are finally wide open as you look at him wildly, face struck with confusion, “Excuse me?”
“I said, it’s half past ele-”
“When the Hell did it get so late?” you fumble with yourself as he slowly gets up, making a show out of stretching all his limbs. You don’t even grow distracted when his arms reach well over his head and tug up his shirt, exposing that sliver of stomach that would normally entice you, “I swear to God, it wasn’t even ten like…. Ten minutes ago.”
“Ten waking minutes ago, maybe,” he teases, holding a hand out for you, “Time flies when you’re napping instead of studying.”
It’s hard for him to not smile so softly down at you right now, even as he watches the defeat take hold. Your entire outfit is compiled of his clothes, yet another t-shirt you’d snagged from him along with a pair of sweatpants that he can’t even remember the last time he’d worn them. Your hair is messy, falling out of the convenient style you’d fashioned in it hours before when you’d declared you needed to focus. Your shoulders sag, the corners of your mouth inch downward, and all he really cares about right now is getting you in bed so he can wrap himself up around you.
Your eyes dart between his outstretched hand and your textbook, still open on a page that you’d embarrassingly drooled on, “I know we joked about celebrating when I aced my finals, but can we still get milkshakes when I absolutely flunk them?”
The way you manage to melt his heart is impeccable. He doesn’t even have it in him to be snarky, or to make another menacing jokes, “Of course we can.”
That seems to make your decision. You finally reach out and take his hand, clearly trying to be dramatic as you pull on him with the entirety of your weight, almost as though your end goal was for him to actually end up beside you on the couch rather than to be standing beside him.
If your goal is the former, you fail miserably. He doesn’t budge beneath your drag, only leaning forward to grab your other hand and properly haul you off the couch.
“Oof,” you huff out as you collide with his chest from the force, letting your face smash into him and making no move to pull back, “Can’t you just carry me to bed? Is that an option?”
He almost says yes. Almost.
“We won’t even make it down the hall,” he chuckles, taking slow steps back, guiding you right along with him, “I may or may not have also dozed off at some point. Jury’s still out on that one.”
“Is it?”
You’re hardly lifting your feet, shuffling your way along, letting him walk you deceiving to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He has no idea if you’ll be capable of doing your full skincare routine, but at the very least, he has to get you to brush your teeth. If he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it.
“It is indeed,” he finally stops walking backwards, deciding it might become more dangerous rather than just dragging you along, “Probably won’t get a ruling until morning, so we might as well brush our teeth now, doll.”
He’s trying to sweeten the deal. Coaxing you with adoring pet names to keep you in motion.
“Ugh, effort,” you crunch your nose as you say it, and it’s clearly more for show than anything now. You’re fully conscious, capable of getting yourself to the bathroom sink where both your toothbrushes now sit side-by-side in a glass cup, but you don’t let go of his hand just yet.
His palm is warm, and right now, all you really wanna do is curl up in that heat.
Eventually, though, you let go. The two of you stand in the mirror as you go through the motions of wetting your toothbrushes, applying the toothpaste – all the boring, mundane actions that are more habit than conscious choices. But interspersed in the habits you’ve gathered over your years of life are new ones, minimal but vital after the amount of time spent together. Proof of the way this nighttime routine had become something of a religion between the two of you, something to be offered and to be shared rather than simply going through the motions.
The way Eddie carefully rolls the end of the toothpaste tube before passing it to you, simply so it’s easier for you to get your share of it. The way you leave the water running after you’ve wet your own brush just so Eddie can also do so. All the sneaky glances caught in the mirror as the corners of your mouths foam up. Every ridiculous face, every nimble bump of your hip to his, the way he sticks out his very white tongue at you before he spits out into the basin – new things that have all become the normal, but still settle warmth in your chest.
Things that water a garden of vinery and blooms that no longer only belong within the confine of your bones, but his as well.
A shared garden of memories and comfort. Growing, flourishing, nurturing one another.
You lean down to spit right before him, and when you take a second too long, he tugs on a strand of your hair, trying to move you. And even as tired as you are, you find it within yourself to be a little shit as he so lovingly mumbles out around his toothbrush, lingering until he’s bumping you with his hip with purpose.
Passing the floss back and forth (or more like you shoving the floss into his hands before he can try to argue against it), using the same paper cup to sip mouthwash out of – something so bland that you used to do it alone, now something to enjoy with him.
You kind of love it. You kind of love him.
“Should I wash my face?” you question, leaning in closer to the mirror and poking at your cheeks, checking your skin for any blemishes you can find.
Eddie only moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and making the entire ordeal far more difficult as his chin rests on your shoulder, “Not if you don’t feel like it. Besides, it’s gonna make your nose cold, and then you’re gonna press it all over my damn neck and-”
You cut him off with a joking glare, reaching up to flick at his nose, but he’s quick to pull his face out of your reach. Smiling widely, showing off those fresh and minty pearly whites.
“If my cold nose bothers you that much, I could just stay on my side of the bed tonight,” you scowl, even though you were already taking his advice and calling it a night, twisting out of his hold to flick the lightswitch and exit the bathroom.
He’s still stronger as he keeps his arms in place, only twisting himself around to face the door frame right with you, whining in your ear, “No.”
He drags out the ‘o’, his voice slowly growing more quiet the longer he draws out the vowel. At some point, it’s less than Eddie has ended the protest, and more that he’s just run out of breath.
His arms only leave your waist for the two of you to get dressed in proper pajamas. Well, what you both consider proper pajamas.
You, left in only his shirt and underwear, and Eddie simply in his boxers.
There’s no more sarcastic comments or lazy banter, although you certainly expect it. You’re almost holding your breath for it, right up until Eddie’s lifting his comforter and eagerly motioning for you to climb into bed first. Not one smartass remark about ladies first that could easily backfire on him as you shoved him into the bed before you.
No, he waits until the two of you are lying on your sides, facing one another, not quite touching when his face breaks into a radiant smile.
“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him, overly suspicious of his random burst of happiness.
“You call it your side of the bed.”
At first, you don’t get it, “What?”
“You called it your side of the bed,” he repeats with the utmost emphasis, finally throwing his hand out in search of your own, pulling it up to eye-level so he can toy slowly with each of your knuckles.
“Is it not?” you’re whispering like two children at a sleepover, your feet finally drifting to toe at his calves. If they’re too cold for his liking, you don’t know. He doesn’t flinch or complain, only spreads his legs ever so slightly so there’s a space left for you to fill as you intertwine limbs.
“It is,” he confirms, nodding a little, finally slotting his fingers between your own, “Just nice to hear you say it out loud.”
And suddenly, you get it.
It’s your side of the bed. It’s your toothbrush resting beside his. Your textbooks and laptops are still on his couch, you have a sticky note with a reminder for yourself to buy more milk put up on the fridge, there’s now a space for your shoes at the front door right beside his daily boots – slowly but surely, you’ve whittled out spaces for yourself here, with him.
Even when you’re not here in this apartment with him, your presence remains. Someone could walk in, and they still see traces of you. You exist here, constantly, right along with Eddie.
“Yeah,” you whisper back, finally scooching closer. He immediately shifts so that you can cuddle into his side, your head resting against his chest and your ear pressed to listen to his thrumming heartbeat. A perfectly carved out space for you even here, between this sheets, against his skin, “It’s nice to say out loud.”
Not a routine, but a religion. Something to worship in the quiet hours between the sound of quiet snores and a noisy coffee maker you already have plans to replace as a Christmas gift to Eddie. An apartment turned altar, with offerings from both of you, to all that has and could become.
You whisper your final prayer, just as you do every night, even when you think Eddie might already be fast asleep, “G’night, Eddie. I love you.”
He’s not already asleep.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
join my taglist!
#ghost is bad at endings for one shots can you tell#ghost's stories#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#beyond the hours#not edited and you can tell but we persevere
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Louis Tomlinson is featured in Disrupted Magazine [Sep 2024 Issue 21] for his performance at FESTNINGEN FESTIVAL [30.8.2024, Trondheim, Norway].
Louis Tomlinson: Why Taking Care Of Your Fanbase Matters.
Article by Nathalie Knudsen. Photograph by Arne Staverløkk
Louis Tomlinson’s performance at Festningen was nothing short of a testament to the deep devotion of his fans and the profound connection he and they share. Fans traveled from all over the world just to witness his set at the Norwegian festival and began queuing outside the festival grounds at dawn, even prompting security to implement an entirely new queuing system just to accommodate the growing crowd of patient fans. This dedication is a reflection of the unique relationship Tomlinson shares with his fanbase — one that has remains strong since his One Direction days. For them, this was no ordinary festival appearance, but an opportunity to witness the artistry of someone they’ve supported for years.
Tomlinson took the stage relatively early in the day, at 5:30 PM after Ramón’s fiery performance, but the crowd was already large and continuously increasing. He kept his performance grounded in his signature, laid-back style, walking casually on stage for his entrance and keeping interactions with the crowd intimate and personal, even with thousands watching. While some artists may seize a festival setting to put on an elaborate, attention-grabbing show, Louis delivered something far more intimate and sincere. Performing tracks from his solo discography, telling stories of personal relationships and his deep connection with his fans, Louis showcased his rock-infused pop sound, which may surprise those only familiar with his One Direction work. Even when he played some of the band’s classics, they felt re-energized within his solo show, offering a fresh take on familiar favorites. Throughout the set, fans watched attentively, absorbing every lyric and appreciating the genuine, unpretentious nature of his performance. Louis has never been one for showy theatrics, preferring instead to let his authenticity speak for itself. As his performance drew to a close, Louis followed his tradition of jumping into the crowd, blurring the line between artist and audience. It was a fitting gesture for an artist so closely tied to his fanbase, reinforcing the genuine connection they share.
In a way that is only accurate for great live performers, Tomlinson’s songs truly come alive on stage. His music, while heartfelt and introspective, carries an energy that’s best experienced live, and his set left the audience ecstatic and energized. This is an artist who has grown into his own, and he’s delivering shows that are real and authentic, and he is continuously and carefully deepening the special bond he shares with his fanbase. Despite his global success, he continues to prioritize keeping ticket and merch prices as affordable and accessible as possible, doing free signings and making efforts to meet fans after shows. He has always emphasize that his relationship with his fans is a “team effort”, a sentiment found to be true as fans of all ages and from all over the world came to support him at a seemingly random festival in the middle of Norway.  
#disrupted mag#louisfestningen24#festningen festival#louis press#louis update#louis tomlinson#30.8.2024
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Another Ending - 3 | Bucky Barnes
Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
The three of you are seated inside the train, the gentle hum of the tracks filling the cabin. You’re holding ‘The Red Swan,’ the novel that both Lori and Bucky had mentioned earlier. As you flip through the pages, your brow furrows.
“Urgh.” You grunt irritably as you skim through yet another overly descriptive scene. The book wasn’t exactly what you expected.
You place your hand over your eyes, exasperated. “70% smut and the plot is only 30%,” you mutter, turning to Lori, who’s glaring at you with puffed cheeks and crossed arms, clearly offended by your critique of her favorite book.
Lori snatches the book from your hand, cradling it protectively. “I feel like you’re hurting my baby,” she says, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. “And you’re not even reading it properly!”
You let out a sigh, unable to summon the courage to continue reading. “Amusing. My sister actually lets you read this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
Lori flinches, her bravado slipping for a moment. She peeks at you with a guilty expression. “No,” she admits in a timid voice. She had to sneak it under her covers at bedtime. Suddenly, her eyes widen with realization. “Wait, does that mean the… intimate scenes are based on a true story?”
“No!” you exclaim, your voice firm. But before you can elaborate, Bucky chimes in, “A little part of it.”
You shoot him a sharp glare as Lori gasps in shock. “What about the character backgrounds? Are both of you special agents with super uniforms that make you strong? Do you have rooms full of weapons and fast cars with missiles? Oh, oh… what about the part where both of you fall from a high building?”
You chuckle at her enthusiasm. “You’re going to be disappointed, Lori.”
“Why?” she asks, her face falling slightly.
“Because the story exaggerates the characters a bit. The agency doesn’t have that kind of money. No super uniforms, and definitely no fast cars with missiles.” You notice her disappointed expression and can’t resist teasing her.
“But, young lady, the part about the female character being good at fighting—that’s true,” Bucky interjects.
Lori’s face lights up again. “What about you, Mr. B? Are you really that strong and athletic?”
“He’s not that strong,” you say with a playful smirk.
Bucky, amused by the exchange, crosses his arms and leans back. “At the beginning, yes. But what happened next… well, that’s the plot twist,” he says with a knowing grin, leaving Lori wide-eyed and eager to know more.
Here’s a revised version with improved grammar, added descriptions, and enhanced tension between the characters:
“Uhhh… What’s the plot twist?” Lori asked, her curiosity piqued as she looked between you and Bucky.
Bucky raised his eyebrows and smirked at you, the corners of his lips curling up in that infuriatingly confident way he had.
You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the exasperation in your voice. “I can’t believe I was ever worried about you. You fooled me.”
“Dear, that’s what we do. We lie,” Bucky replied smoothly, his tone carrying a hint of something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine.
The tension between the two of you was palpable, hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Lori, oblivious to the undercurrents, watched with growing excitement, her eyes darting between you and Bucky as if she were witnessing a live scene from one of her romance novels. She clutched her book tighter, her face flushed with anticipation, clearly enjoying this drama unfolding before her.
Flashback Begins
Back at the security agency, the world was divided into field agents and analysts. You were one of the best field agents, always in the thick of the action, while Bucky was an exceptional analyst, the brain behind countless successful missions. Everyone in the agency worked under alias names, identities hidden even from each other.
Your alias was ‘Nightingale,’ and you quickly earned a reputation for being ruthless and efficient. Bucky, known as ‘Cipher,’ was the analytical genius. Whenever an agent was assigned to a mission with Bucky as the analyst, they knew success was almost guaranteed. Together, the two of you were unstoppable—a perfect combination of brains and brawn.
Despite his sharp mind and keen intellect, Bucky’s unassuming appearance as a nerdy analyst made you worry about him. He wore baggy shirts and glasses, and you often found yourself wondering if a strong gust of wind might just blow him over. You made it your unspoken duty to protect him, thinking he needed it.
But then, everything changed. The day you were gravely injured in the field, on what you thought would be your last mission, Bucky showed up. Not as the meek analyst you’d imagined, but as something else entirely.
He ripped off his shirt to reveal muscles that had been hidden beneath those baggy clothes, and with surprising strength, he pulled you out of harm’s way. He wasn’t just your analyst; he was a force to be reckoned with.
From that day forward, your attitude toward him shifted. The camaraderie between you deepened, but so did something else—something you tried desperately to ignore. In the world of espionage, there was no room for romance. It was dangerous, reckless. And what made it worse, far worse, was that you were a double agent.
But the thrill of the chase, the secrecy, the risk of being discovered—it all made your hidden relationship even more exhilarating. Every stolen glance, every touch in the dark, was fraught with danger. You were torn, constantly on edge, wondering if you should confess your secret to Bucky or bury it forever.
Then came the day when your worst fears were realized. The agency uncovered a mole within its ranks, and it all came crashing down during a mission codenamed ‘The Red Swan.’ The mission failed spectacularly, and in the aftermath, the truth emerged.
It wasn’t you. It was Bucky. He wasn’t just a double agent; he was a triple agent.
Flashback Ends
“That story is much better because it’s more realistic,” Lori declared with a satisfied grin. Then she turned to Bucky, her curiosity piqued. “What about the mission? Was that part real?”
Bucky gave her a half-smile, his voice low and serious. “Sorry, little girl, I can’t tell you about that. Or, well… you know.”
“Did you just threaten my niece?” You shot him a sharp look, protective instincts flaring.
“Just gave her a warning,” he replied, watching as Lori tensed up. A moment later, his expression softened slightly. “But the hotel part is true.”
Lori’s mood flipped instantly, her excitement bubbling up again. She squealed with glee, only to suddenly make a face and cover her eyes. “Ewww… My brain needs to stop projecting that image!”
‘Serves you right,’ you thought, amused by her reaction. You watched as she tried to shake off whatever wild imagination had conjured up.
Just then, an announcement echoed through the train, informing everyone that they had arrived at the station. The three of you gathered your things and stepped off the train, but Lori dragged her feet, her steps growing slower as she took in her surroundings. It was clear she didn’t want to leave this adventure behind.
You noticed her reluctance, but you knew that for her safety, it was best for her to be with your sister. Standing at the station entrance, you reached into your bag, pulled out another burner phone, and dialed your sister’s number. “Where are you?”
“I was waiting for your call. Have you arrived?” your sister replied, her tone far too casual for your liking.
“Yes, we’re here. Where are you? I told you to wait at the train station,” you said, glancing around the bustling platform.
“Well… I’m on a train,” she admitted, sounding sheepish.
A cold shiver ran down your spine as her words sank in. Panic rising, you bolted toward the nearest platform, ignoring the startled looks of other passengers. You leaped over the barrier, triggering the alarms as you skipped the ticket gate. Security guards shouted after you, but you kept running, your eyes locked on the approaching train.
You skidded to a halt just as the train pulled in, breathless and frantic, and peered through the windows. There, standing casually inside one of the cars, was your sister. She met your gaze, mouthed, “I’m sorry,” then, to your utter disbelief, lifted both middle fingers in your direction with a mischievous grin.
“You bitch!” you yelled, unable to contain your frustration as you mirrored the gesture.
As the train began to pull away from the platform, leaving you behind, you felt a flood of memories rush back. This was exactly why you chose to keep your distance from your sister. Every time you babysat Lori, she’d find a way to take advantage of the situation. And just like that, you were reminded of the chaos she could bring into your life.
You trudged back to the station entrance where Bucky and Lori were waiting. Bucky raised an eyebrow as you approached, sensing your irritation. “What happened?”
“Don’t ask,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as you tried to calm down.
Lori, on the other hand, seemed to recognize the familiar expression on your face—the one you always wore when her mom got under your skin. She jumped up and down with excitement, pumping her fists in the air. “Yes!”
Bucky still looked confused. “Does this mean she’s coming with us to find the author?”
Before you could respond, Lori was already trying to prove her worth. “Ow… ow… you need me! I know where she is. I follow all her social media accounts.”
🥀🥀🥀🥀
“🎵Road trip and adventure! So exciting!🎵” Lori sang from the backseat, her voice full of enthusiasm as the car sped along the highway.
Bucky focused on driving, steering the car toward the location where the author was supposed to be. Lori’s information seemed accurate—she’d been tracking the author’s every move with surprising precision. “From her story an hour ago, she was at the bookstore. Fifteen minutes later, she said she wanted to go to her favorite café, and now she’s got her favorite coffee.”
“Doesn’t anyone care about their privacy anymore?” Bucky muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
You glanced at him and shrugged. “Guess not. People are so eager to share their lives online that they forget who might be watching. Makes it easy for someone like Lori to keep tabs on them.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, where Lori sat humming to herself, lost in her world.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a cozy-looking café. The three of you peered through the large front window, zeroing in on a woman seated near it. She was engrossed in her laptop, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
There she was—Jill Krege, the author who had somehow captured fragments of your life in her book.
Jill was a woman in her mid-40s, with a calm, unassuming demeanor. She wore a hand-knitted cardigan, its intricate patterns hinting at a patient and thoughtful personality. Her hair, streaked with hints of silver, was loosely tied back, and she occasionally sipped from a steaming mug as she worked.
“She’s kinda…” you began, struggling to find the right words to describe the feeling that settled in your chest upon seeing her.
“You see it too?” Bucky finished for you, his voice low and slightly puzzled.
“Hm…” You nodded, your eyes narrowing as you tried to reconcile the ordinary appearance of the woman with the secrets she seemed to know.
Lori, sensing the tension but not quite understanding it, piped up from the backseat. “What… what am I missing?”
Bucky leaned back in his seat, still studying Jill. “She doesn’t seem like a spy or a diplomat.”
“But appearances can be deceiving. Just like you,” you added, turning to look at Bucky. Your words were edged with both admiration and a hint of old bitterness.
He smirked, his confidence shining through. “Well, dear, that’s because I’m the best.”
Bucky’s hand moved toward the door handle, his mind made up. “I should talk to her,” he said, already halfway out of the car.
“Stop!” Lori’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent.
Bucky paused, one foot on the pavement, and turned to face her with a questioning look.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me to meet my favorite author. Let me talk to her,” Lori pleaded, her eyes wide with determination.
Bucky frowned. “Kid, this isn’t a game. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”
“She’ll think you’re an annoying fan or, worse, a stalker. But she’ll be comfortable talking to a 13-year-old girl,” Lori countered, crossing her arms with the certainty only a teenager could muster.
You exchanged a glance with Bucky, the logic of her argument sinking in. She did have a point—Jill was more likely to drop her guard around a harmless-looking child than a mysterious adult.
Bucky hesitated, clearly torn between protecting Lori and the necessity of getting information. His eyes flickered with concern as he looked at you, seeking your approval.
You sighed, considering Lori's suggestion. The idea made you a bit uneasy, but you couldn't deny that it might work. “Alright,” you finally agreed, giving her a cautious nod. “But be careful. We’ll be close by.”
Lori's eyes sparkled with excitement as she grinned. “I’ve got a better idea.”
You raised an eyebrow, bracing yourself for whatever she had in mind.
Lori leaned forward, her voice lowering as if she were about to share a secret. “We’ll act like a family!”
You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. Lori’s enthusiasm was infectious, but the idea of playing house in front of the author who somehow knew so much about your life was a lot to take in. “A family?” you echoed, your tone a mix of skepticism and amusement.
Lori nodded vigorously, her ponytail bouncing with each movement. “Yes! Think about it. We go in there like we’re just a normal family out for some coffee. She won’t suspect a thing!”
Bucky, who had been quietly listening, crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly, considering the idea. “And how exactly do we pull that off?” he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of sarcasm.
Lori didn’t miss a beat. “Simple! You’re the dad,” she said, pointing at Bucky. “You’re the mom,” she continued, turning to you. “And I’m the adorable daughter who’s super excited to meet her favorite author.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation momentarily cutting through the tension. “Lori, that’s… quite the plan,” you said, shaking your head slightly.
But as you looked into her eager eyes, you could see how much she wanted this—how much she needed to feel like she was a part of something bigger, even if it was just an elaborate ruse.
Bucky smirked, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of amusement. “Well, ‘Mom,’ what do you say? Shall we give this a shot?”
You exhaled, still unsure but unable to deny Lori’s infectious excitement. “Alright, fine. We’ll play along. But remember, Lori, we’re here to get information, not just to have fun.”
Lori’s face lit up, and she practically bounced in her seat. “Got it! I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise!”
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Reading to Each Other 🪻
day one of tuna tober y'all!! i'm SO fricking excited! :D
Ship: Duke Leopold Mountbatten x f!Reader
Rating: 13+
Wordcount: 1.3k
Warnings: lots of LOTR, tobacco mention, riddles, kissing, cuddles
Series: Leg's Tuna Tober
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. Rain pattered on your apartment's windows, the occasional roll of thunder booming outside. The spiced scent of your pumpkin candle floated through the living room air. Warm light shone from shaded lamps positioned on either end of your green-clothed sofa. A thick, soft blanket was draped over your lap.
You held your worn copy of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Images of a dark cave filled with still water and an eerie sense of calm floated from the yellowed pages. Sounds of whispered riddles and shaking hands holding shining jewelry bounced around inside your head. It was nearly impossible to read Tolkien and not get entirely engrossed.
"How's your book?" Leo asked from the other end of the couch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Your head snapped up from where you'd been hunched over your book, eyes wide, as you met Leo's amused gaze. A light laugh filtered through his bright smile.
"Sorry! Didn't mean to alarm you," he said, amusement clearly indicating that he wasn't sorry in the slightest. You shook your head and sighed at his antics.
"Uh huh. Sure," you groused with a growing smile.
Leo was equally curled up on his side of the sofa. Fluffy blanket draped across his lap, glasses fitted over his thin nose, copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen balanced in one of his hands. Hazel eyes trailed over the "grumpy" expression you'd forced over your face.
"Anything interesting standing out so far?" he asked, nodding to the book still clutched in your hands.
"I'm at one of my favorite parts, if that's what you mean," you replied as you burrowed deeper into the couch cushions. Leo tucked his bookmark into his novel, then set the book and his glasses on the end table nearest him.
"Care to elaborate?" he pressed with a cocked eyebrow. You bit your lip as you scanned over the pages again. Hisses and riddles and splashes of ground water leapt from the ink. Hmm. Riddles.
"Well, this part is about Bilbo bargaining, with a creature named Gollum, for his life. They're exchanging riddles as a sort of game," you explained, trying your best to not confuse a man who'd never heard of the Lord of the Rings.
"And what riddles are they?" Leo asked with a growing smile. He crossed his legs under his blanket to give you his undivided attention. You glanced between him and the book in your hands.
"You want to try and solve the riddles, or do you want me to read the whole part?"
"Just the riddles," he specified. You hummed in response.
"Alright, just know that they can get pretty tricky," you said in a singsong manner. Leo stared at you with apt interest as you turned to the correct page in your book. Inked words flew past your eyes, descriptions of swords and hobbits and tobacco and goblins filling your mind, nearly sucking you back into the story, before you found the first riddle. You cleared your throat and read, "What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?"
"Has to be a mountain, isn't it?" Leo guessed almost immediately. He seemed rather confident in his answer, dimples digging into his cheeks with how wide his smile had stretched.
"Yup. Mountain," you answered, already thinking of which riddle to do next. Do you be nice and keep giving him the easier ones, or kick it up a notch? He did invent the elevator, after all.
"Give us a harder one, love," he said. That decides it for you, then.
"It cannot be seen, cannot be felt. Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter."
Leo blew out a long stream of air, "When I said hard, I didn't mean that hard!"
You refrained from making the obvious joke brewing at the back of your throat. An involuntary giggle leaked from your lips. You tried to play it off by resting your chin in your hand, fingers digging into your lips, to keep yourself quiet.
The room was quiet for a few moments as Leo considered the riddle. Raindrops trailed down the window, rivulets chasing each other and creating long tails that winded up the glass. This Sunday, utterly serene in its quality, was one of many you'd gotten to experience with Leo. Something about him just garnered peace in your life.
"Do I get a hint?" he asked with a sigh. You grinned at him from under your fingers.
"If Bilbo doesn't get a hint, neither do you," you said. Leo groaned, leaning back on the sofa and throwing an arm over his face. You couldn't help the laugh that breezed between your fingers.
"You are undeniably cruel," he grumbled under his arm.
"You wanted a harder riddle," you replied with a shrug. Leo grunted in return, making you laugh again. You waited a few more moments, letting him agonize over the riddle, before you decided to take pity, "What is it when your eyes are closed?"
"The hell are you on about? Is this a part two to the riddle?" Leo groused.
The blanket in your lap pooled into a pile on the floor as you crawled across the couch. Your sweatpants-clad legs framed Leo's hips, your hands running up his sides, as you sat in his lap. He begrudgingly lowered his arm and met your eyes.
"That was a clue. What do you see when you close your eyes?" you repeated as you ran your palms up and down his forearms. Leo's expression softened slightly.
"A spot of mercy," he said, smile returning, "I was wrong in labeling you cruel."
"Yeah yeah, Mr.1876. Just answer the damn riddle," you said as you rolled your eyes. Leo's warm palms found their usual place on your hips.
"You can't see it, feel it, hear it, or smell it. And closing my eyes has something to do with it," he listed, tongue darting across his bottom lip. A few more moments filled with pondering passed.
"For god's sake," you breathed as you clapped your hand over his eyes. The two of you had been together for so long that the action had hardly surprised him. You waited for a moment in hope that this obvious clue would help. Being met with only silence, you said, "What do you see right now?"
"Your hand, for one," Leo quipped back. He flinched with a laugh when you pinched him with your free hand.
"Close your frickin' eyes, Leo."
Silence settled over the two of you. Warm, comfortable, charged with amusement at your situation. Only Leo's smile could be seen from under your hand. His thumbs tucked under the hem of your t-shirt.
"It's dark," he finally said. You gave him a few moments to connect the dots. A gasp shook his chest, "Dark! That's the answer!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!" you exclaimed as you dropped your hand from his eyes.
Pure elation crinkled in the corners of his hazel eyes. He hugged you closer to his chest, a laugh shaking where your bodies met. You couldn't help but join in. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to steady yourself.
"Do I get a prize for so effortlessly solving the riddle?" Leo asked with a hint of sarcasm after the two of you had calmed a bit.
"I'm deducting points for the use of a hint," you hummed, feigning consideration at his question.
"And those points, will they affect the prize I know I've earned?"
You answered his question by pressing your lips to his. Both smiling, both clinging to the other with absolute adoration, the occasional giggle buzzing between you.
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. It was raining outside, your candle had burnt down to the wick, and you were cradled in Leo's lap as you both read your respective books. Your back to his chest, blanket draped over both of your laps, his cheek rested on the crown of your head. Every now and then you'd read a part of your book aloud, garnering the same in return from Leo.
AHHHHHHHHH this is so frickin cute i might CRY!!! happy tuna tober everyone!!!
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"Bound"
tracklist
— ♬ "You realize how fine she is. She's just what you've been looking for"
— ♬ Ushijima x Reader, SFW, timeskip, fem reader, strangers to friends to lovers, no beta
Usually, Ushijima Wakatoshi left no room for miscalculation. For a long time, he lived with logic and facts. He made no unnecessary actions and did what he thought was fit. He received comments calling him some robot, he understood where it came from but never understood if it was supposed to be a form of insult or harmless teasing. Nonetheless, he paid no attention to it. On the other hand, Ushijima received countless compliments regarding his looks and appreciated it to a certain extent. However, others had way more time in their hands to waste screaming deranged sentences about how they were 'down bad' or 'thirsting' over his physical physic. Ushijima doesn't want to elaborate further on how he felt about those sides of his fanbase.
The athlete had a stable support system from his father and friends, he's endlessly grateful for their support. Ushijima found himself contented with the people he surrounded himself with, he wasn't the kind to linger in crowds but rather the crowd tended to linger around him. After all, he was a famous athlete so he thought it was natural. People often approaching him for photos or autographs wasn't out of the norm but when you decided to approach him one evening, Ushijima was admittedly astonished.
"Hello"
You started with a mere hello. Ushijima peered to his left and saw you standing there with your glimmering dress and lipgloss shining under the chandelier lights. Tonight was an official gathering for Volleyball athletes, the program ended thirty-five minutes ago and everyone was free to scatter around and enjoy the evening. Fortunately, interviewers or the annoying paparazzi weren't allowed inside the venue.
"Hello"
Ushijima greeted back, he thought it was only polite. He didn't recognize you so you weren't an athlete, perhaps you were one of the staff, or maybe one of the organizers of the event.
"I'm [Surname] [Name]"
"Ushijima Wakatoshi"
"Oh, I know. Everybody knows the famous UshiWaka"
Then he learns your name and he instinctively replies with his. Of course, you knew him and he's used to people knowing who he was. Fame doesn't phase him. But what strikes him as perplexed is why you have decided to approach him.
"Would you like an autograph or a photo?"
"Oh, no thank you! I was wondering if you fancy chatting with me"
"Hm"
He hummed, he thought it was harmless. He finishes his champagne and waits for you to talk, but you only stare at him through your thick lashes and sweet smile. Were you waiting for him to speak first? Now, he has no problem with that but he has to admit that he doesn't do it often. Ushijima adjusts his bowtie and clears his throat.
"How are you finding this evening?"
"Great! I hope you enjoyed your time here"
"Everything is well"
You nodded but didn't reply after. Ushijima finds it odd that his mind is scrambling to keep the conversation alive knowing he could stop talking if he wishes to and wait for you to walk away. But somehow, he doesn't want you to leave. So, the athlete racks his clever mind for anything to say to make you stay longer.
"Do you like chocolates, [Surname]-san?"
"Yes, I do"
"What do you think about volleyball?"
"I think it's a fantastic sport"
He asks you innocent questions to get you to open up and surprisingly it keeps the conversation going. Later, you start spurring hilarious stories about your friends and he'll take note of every detail. You'd share about the music you listen to and he finds your music taste similar to his as he'd share his input about his favorite songs. You and he talked and talked until the venue slowly emptied. You found your cue to leave but Ushijima frowns at that, he insists on walking you out and calling a ride for you.
"You're incredibly sweet, Ushijima-san"
"You can call me Wakatoshi"
"Okay, Wakatoshi"
You winked and Ushijima felt his chest flutter. He opened the car door for you as you waved him goodbye. He wonders when will he see you again because he keeps thinking about you that evening until his head rests on his pillow. He had no idea where to contact you until he brought your name up to Kuroo Tetsuro and by his luck, you happened to be his co-worker. Ushijima had a hold on your number within seconds thanks to Kuroo.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"This is Wakatoshi"
Ushijima can hear you gasping and falling out of your chair dramatically. There were a few chaotic noises on the other line until he heard your voice again. His chest flutters like it did previously.
"Hi! Did you need something? How did you get my number?"
"I got it from Kuroo"
"That sly cat..."
"I was wondering if you're free to eat dinner with me tomorrow evening"
"You want to eat dinner with me...?"
"Yes"
"Oh, what an honor! Sure! I'll go"
Your answer makes the corner of Ushijima's lips quirk up, it was so unusual that even he was taken aback. He consulted with Tendou Satori afterward via phone call and told him everything, he asked if he did the right thing. His best friend only laughs.
"Just do whatever makes your heartbeat go faster, Wakatoshi-kun"
Ushijima didn't understand it at first but when he finally sees you that evening, his heartbeat spikes up. You were wearing one of those dresses that makes him gulp. When you wrap your hand around his arm and go inside the restaurant, Ushijima gets the similar feeling he gets when he's playing on the volleyball court. During dinner, he notices your finer qualities. And the magic of your rare personality.
When dinner is finished, Ushijima lends you his coat when the evening gets windy. You keep his coat until he takes you home. That evening you reached to the tip of your toes to peck him on the cheek before softly shutting your door. Ushijima stood in front of the door, rigid. His hand creeps up to his cheek where you have kissed him. Suddenly, his face feels warm and his chest palpitates wildly. If he hadn't known any better, he thinks he's going down with something.
But he knew what this was. He has read the shoujo mangas Tendou was recommending to him and watched the romcoms available on his television. Ushijima was falling in love. It seemed so foreign yet natural to experience it for the first time. He never prioritized romance during his high school days, having a girlfriend never crossed his mind. However, when you came into the picture, he thought he wouldn't mind having you as his girlfriend.
Ushijima takes his time to woo you, to see if you could return his feelings. He took you to meet his friends, he asked you to have dinner with his father, and he'd even gone far as to bring you to Paris with him to visit Tendou. On the trip back to the country, Ushijima knew he was head over heels for you. He asks what your sign is and he'll find you two are compatible. He realizes how fine you are. You were just what he was looking for.
Everything you did affected him greatly, you plagued his mind with your smile and scent, and he couldn't imagine another lifetime where he didn't meet you. So, as he asked you out on an aquarium date, he specified it was a date and not just one of your random hangouts, and you said yes, Ushijima felt so happy that he could do twenty sets of a volleyball match.
His cheeks ached from smiling as you pointed out every sea creature you saw and yelled out its name. His phone gallery was filled with pictures of you in every moment. When he admires the colorful jellyfish with you, he sucks in a breath and snakes a hand around your back. His heart skips a beat when you lean against him.
"Isn't this nice?"
"It is. I want to do this with you all the time"
"Me too, 'Toshi"
"[Name]?"
"Yeah?"
"I like you"
You turn your head to face him and giggle. Ushijima couldn't deny it, he was bound to falling in love. He was bound to fall in love with you.
"I like you too, 'Toshi"
"So, will you be my girlfriend?"
"Of course, ya goofball!"
When Ushijima looks at you it is visible in his eyes. He was beyond lovestruck with you. From the tenderness in his features and the brightness of his smile. His heart wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n#Spotify
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three's company- s.r. x fem!reader
Summary: Motherhood is hard. Spencer is there to make it all better.
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, Spencer being the sweetest
It had been a long day of running after your two children who seemingly had no interest in anything today. Usually, it would be Alexander who would be riled up and loud. Today, it seemed as though his little sister Dorothy wanted to join in. From the moment they woke up, it was a nonstop whirlwind of energy. You tried everything—reading their favorite stories, setting up an elaborate train set, even letting them indulge in a bit of screen time. But nothing seemed to hold their attention for long. They were bouncing from one activity to the next, their giggles and screams echoing through the house.
By the time Spencer came home, you were at your wits' end. The screaming and yelling from their games had been enough. He kicked his shoes off at the door, the familiar sound of his keys hitting the bowl in the hallway bringing a slight sense of relief. He found you in the kitchen, looking exhausted, your shoulders slumped and eyes weary.
You’d left the BAU after Dotty was born. Motherhood had taken its toll and with two parents in the FBI, you didn’t see them much. Spencer had supported through both pregnancies, and now your decision to stay home. It had been a tough choice, leaving behind the job you loved, the team that had become like family. But you wanted to be there for your children, to give them the stability and presence you felt they deserved.
He greeted you with a kiss and a hug, lingering over you for a moment, his touch warm and comforting. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle, concern etched on his face.
You sighed, picking up another celery stalk to chop. “They’ve just been so… energetic today. It’s been a lot.” You sniffed, unable to hide your feelings anymore. “I love them so much and I’d never trade them for anything. They’re just—” Your voice cracked, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.
He shushed you gently, moving to lean against the counter so he could look at you. “You are an amazing mother. Do you hear them right now?” Another fit of screams and laughter cut through the air, a chaotic symphony. “That is the sound of two kids who are happy because someone special has made them feel safe and comfortable.”
You stayed quiet, his words touching a tender spot in your heart. He was being kind and honest, which only made you feel worse for not being able to enjoy their happiness. Spencer noticed the tears forming, pulling the carrot and knife from your hand. He pulled you into another hug, holding you tight, his arms a protective cocoon around you. The warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breathing, provided a solace you desperately needed.
The two of you stayed like that for a minute, the noise of the children fading into the background. You pulled away, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. He held the side of your face for a second, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “I’ll finish this,” he said softly, his eyes full of understanding and love. “Just go relax.”
You hesitated, looking at the half-prepared dinner on the counter. “Are you sure? There’s still a lot to do.”
He nodded, his smile reassuring. “I’ve got this. You go take a bath or read a book. Whatever you need to unwind.”
You gave him a grateful smile, the weight on your shoulders lifting just a bit. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in for one more kiss before heading upstairs.
After Spencer’s comforting words, you decided it was time to check on the kids and let them know their dad was home. You headed towards the living room, the sounds of their laughter growing louder with each step. As you turned the corner, you were greeted by a scene of absolute chaos. Books had been tossed around, pages crumpled and covers bent. Toys were scattered everywhere, a minefield of blocks, dolls, and cars. The sofa cushions were upturned, forming makeshift forts, and there was a fine layer of talcum powder covering everything, giving the room a ghostly, white sheen.
In the middle of it all stood Alexander and Dorothy, their faces beaming with pride at their handiwork. Dotty’s face was covered in what looked like your eyeliner, dark streaks crisscrossing her cheeks. Alex had red ink on his skin, his arms and legs marked with what you could only assume were his attempts at tattoos. The sight was both endearing and exasperating.
“Hey, guys,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm and composed despite the mess. “Daddy’s home!”
They turned towards you, their eyes lighting up even more. “Mommy, look!” Alex exclaimed, holding up a marker triumphantly. “We made art!”
Dotty giggled, pointing to her face. “I’m a kitty!” she declared, her whiskers and nose drawn with surprising precision for a toddler.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, despite the disaster zone before you. “Wow, you’ve both been very busy, haven’t you?”
They nodded eagerly, not a hint of guilt or remorse in their expressions. Just pure, innocent joy. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself of what Spencer had said. This chaos was a sign of their happiness, their creativity.
“Alright,” you said, clapping your hands together. “Why don’t we go show Daddy your artwork?”
They cheered, racing past you towards the kitchen, leaving little powdery footprints in their wake.
As you headed upstairs for that much-needed break, Spencer watched you disappear around the corner. He heard your bedroom door close softly and decided to give you some time alone. He knew how hard you worked every day and sensed that you needed a moment to yourself.
Turning his attention back to the kids, he smiled at them. "Alright, team, let's get cleaned up and then we'll have some dinner." He managed to corral them into the bathroom, wiping off the eyeliner from Dotty's face and scrubbing the red ink from Alex's skin as best he could. The children squirmed and giggled, making the task both challenging and endearing.
Once they were reasonably clean, he set them up in the kitchen with their dinner. He made sure they had their favorite foods, hoping it would keep them occupied. After they finished eating, he handed them each a bottle of milk and led them to the living room. He put on some soft music and a movie, hoping to create a calming atmosphere. The kids settled on the couch, their eyes drooping as they drank their bottles, eyes trained on Tarzan.
Satisfied that they were winding down, Spencer took a deep breath and headed upstairs. The house was quieter now, but he knew you were still carrying the weight of the day. He approached your bedroom door and knocked softly before entering. He found you sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down your face. You looked up, trying to smile but unable to hide your guilt and exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” you said, your voice breaking. “I was so absorbed in annoyance and exasperation that I didn’t notice they were able to create such a mess. I feel like I’m failing them.”
Spencer crossed the room quickly, sitting beside you and wrapping his arms around you. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, holding you close. “You’re not failing them. You’re doing an amazing job. They’re happy and healthy because of you.”
You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace soothing your frazzled nerves. “But look at the mess they made. I should have been paying more attention.”
“They’re kids,” Spencer said gently. “Mess is part of the deal. And you’ve been doing this all day by yourself. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You’re allowed to have moments where it feels like too much.”
You sniffed, nodding against his shoulder. “I just want to be a good mom.”
“You are a good mom,” he assured you, pulling back to look into your eyes. “The best. And part of being a good mom is knowing when you need a break. You’re not alone in this. We’re a team, remember?”
You managed a small smile, the weight of his words easing the burden you felt. “Thank you, Spencer.”
He kissed your forehead, brushing a tear away with his thumb.
“I have an idea,” he said with a smile.
Spencer kissed your forehead and stood up, heading to the bathroom. He turned on the taps, adjusting the temperature until the water was just right, then added some of your favorite bubble bath. As the tub filled, he returned to the bedroom and took your hand. “Come on, your bath is ready. I’ll give you some time alone, and I promise I’ll be back with a surprise for you.”
You smiled gratefully, letting him guide you to the bathroom. The scent of lavender filled the air, and the sight of the warm, inviting bath made your shoulders relax. “Thank you, Spencer.”
He kissed your cheek. “Enjoy. I’ll be back soon.”
As you sank into the tub, the warm water enveloping you, Spencer quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. He made his way downstairs to find the kids still in the living room, now fully relaxed with their bottles. “Alright, you two, let’s get ready for bed,” he said, scooping up Dotty and holding Alex’s hand.
He led them to their room, where they nestled themselves into bed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay? Just stay here and get cozy,” he said, tucking them into their beds. They nodded sleepily, their eyelids heavy.
Back in the kitchen, Spencer washed the kids’ bottles, making sure everything was clean and ready for the next day. He then prepared a small wine and cheese platter, selecting a few of your favorite cheeses and a bottle of wine you both enjoyed. He arranged it all neatly on a tray and carried it up to the hall, leaving it just outside the bedroom door.
Returning to the children’s room, he found them both still awake but looking drowsy. He sat on the edge of Alex’s bed and stroked his hair. “Where’s Mommy?” Alex asked, his voice small and tired.
“She’s already asleep,” Spencer lied gently, not wanting to disturb your peace. “But she loves you very much and will see you in the morning.”
Alex nodded, satisfied with the answer, and snuggled deeper into his blankets. Spencer kissed his forehead, then moved to Dotty’s bed, doing the same. “Goodnight, my little kitty,” he whispered.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” Dotty mumbled, her eyes already closed.
Once they were both settled and quiet, Spencer slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. You’d been sitting at the vanity, eyes closed as you brushed through your hair.
“Knock, knock,” he said softly, peeking his head in. “I brought you something.”
You opened your eyes and smiled at the sight of him. “Come in.”
He entered with the tray, setting it down on a small table by the bed. “A little treat for you,” he said, pouring a glass of wine and handing it to you.
You took it, your eyes welling up with gratitude. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Glass in hand, you crossed over to the bed, motioning for him to join you. He obliged, lying down beside you. You ran a hand through his hair, complimenting the smell of his coconut shampoo. You whispered sweet nothings, thanking him for coming home. His eyes began to droop, sleep imminent for him. You thought about how you met, staring at each other from across the bullpen on your first day. It took you an entire year to ask him out, instantly falling for him the moment he picked your favorite restaurant. You cherished the warmth of his body next to yours, the gentle rise and fall of his breath, the comfort of knowing he was here, with you. In these quiet, shared moments, everything else seemed to disappear. You wished you could hold onto this feeling forever, make it last, but you knew it was the rarity of these times that made them so special.
Spencer took a deep breath, sitting up. “I want some.” He climbed off the bed to retrieve a small plate of cheese and crackers. He carefully balanced his own glass of wine as he returned to his spot on the bed. You reached for a piece of cheese from the platter, your movements slow and deliberate. You nibbled on it thoughtfully, savoring the creamy texture and mild flavor.
Spencer watched you for a moment, noticing the way you held the glass without taking a sip. A thought crossed his mind, and he nodded to himself, realizing you weren’t angry or annoyed—you were just exhausted. And suddenly, it all made sense.
“Are you…?” he began, his voice soft as he plucked a few grapes off the vine and offered them to you.
You looked at him, your eyes widening slightly before you nodded. “I found out yesterday,” you admitted, setting the wine glass down untouched. “But you were gone, and I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
Spencer’s heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and concern. “Three kids,” he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “Wow. How are you feeling about it?”
“I don’t know how to do this with three kids, Spencer,” you confessed, a hint of fear in your voice. “I’m already struggling with two.”
Spencer took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Then maybe it’s my time to be a stay-at-home dad,” he said with a light chuckle, trying to lift your spirits.
You laughed softly, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. “I can just imagine you trying to juggle the BAU and three kids.”
He grinned, placing a hand over your stomach. “Three kids. That’s going to be a big change. We’ll be outnumbered.”
The shared laughter brought a sense of relief, a moment of connection that reminded you of the strength you had as a team. But before the moment could settle, a small voice interrupted.
“Mommy?” Dotty stood at the door, her blanket in hand, looking small and sleepy. “I can’t sleep.”
You exchanged a glance with Spencer, both of you smiling at the sight of your daughter. “Come here, sweet pea,” you said, opening your arms to her.
Dotty shuffled over, climbing into your lap and snuggling against you. Spencer sat beside you, wrapping his arm around both of you. “Looks like someone needs some extra cuddles tonight,” he said softly.
You kissed the top of Dotty’s head, feeling a surge of love and determination. “We’ll be okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.
Spencer nodded, his eyes full of support and love. “Yes, we will. One day at a time.”
Just as you were settling into the peaceful moment, you heard another small voice from the doorway. “Mommy?”
Alex stood there, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t sleep unless you tell me goodnight.”
You laughed softly, looking at Spencer with a mix of amusement and affection. “Come here, Alex,” you called, opening your other arm.
Alex ran over and climbed onto the bed, nestling himself beside you. “Can I sleep with you and Daddy tonight?”
You exchanged a warm smile with Spencer. “Of course you can,” you said, smoothing his hair. “But just for tonight, okay?”
Alex nodded, his eyes already drooping as he settled in. Within moments, he was fast asleep, his small body curled up against you.
Spencer scooted over, making more room on the bed, and looked around at the cozy, albeit crowded, arrangement. “You know,” he said with a playful grin, “we might need to buy a bigger bed.”
You chuckled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. “You’re probably right.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reidx reader
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Ghost
ghost!mingi x fem!reader
Trigger warnings: mingi's dead so
Content warnings: names (mi amor, good girl), oral (f rec), fingering, size kink, praise, hair pulling, mingi's actually obsessed and in love
Summary: Your neighborhood friendly ghost can't stand not having you.
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: happy halloween babes!! i wrote this after a lovely discussion with rae and i've been dying to share it. and what better time to share than halloween? anyways i hope you enjoy and if you'd like to be tagged in future stories, feel free to comment, message, or send an ask! love you x
Tags: @bahng-chrizz
Smut below the cut
You’d known for a while that your house was haunted. You often felt like you were being watched and sometimes things moved on their own. Doors would open and close by themselves and the tv would turn on in the middle of the night. It didn’t scare you anymore given how long you’d lived there. You often spoke to the ghost as if it were a friend that you’d known for ages.
But when you awoke to feeling watched yet again, something was off. It didn’t feel like the usual presence. There was someone physically in the room with you. You laid as still as possible and kept your breathing even, paralyzed with fear and afraid to open your eyes to find a murderer in your room.
“I know you’re awake.” A deep voice resonated around the room. You slowly opened your eyes but no one was there. Not at the foot of your bed, not near your closet.
“Who’s there?” You called, sitting up and searching the room frantically. Slowly, in the corner of the room, a man materialized before your eyes. “Who are you?” You scrambled to the corner where your bed was pushed against the wall and tried to make yourself smaller.
“I won’t hurt you.” He said simply as he moved closer. “You know I won’t. I haven’t in all the time you’ve lived here.”
“How do you know how long I've lived here?” You asked cautiously, shrinking away from him when he reached the edge of the bed. You could see hints of scarring reaching up his neck, towards his jaw. They were in a pattern like nothing you’d ever seen before.
“Because I live here too.” He looked down with a sad smile and shook his head. “Or I used to.” He elaborated when you didn’t respond. “I’m the previous owner. Name’s Mingi.” He held out his hand and you noticed more of the beautiful scars traveling up his arm.
“But that’s-” You shook your head and refused to touch him, panic filling your body. “That’s impossible.” The previous owner was dead. You’d heard the story from the neighbors when you moved in.
“How come you can accept my presence when you can’t see me?” He tilted his head as his hand dropped. “You aren’t phased by my being here when I'm moving things to get your attention. Why are you so nervous now?”
“That was…that was you?” The unease began to dissipate but you still refused to move any closer to him.
“Of course it was me. This was my house.” Something about his expression changed. It became darker, more possessive. “And you became mine too when you moved in.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked quietly.
“I’ve been watching over you since day one.” He leaned down, crawling into your personal space, and you tried to lean away but the wall prevented you from shrinking further away. “I know everything about you. I know your favorite foods, I know you prefer cats over dogs. I know you have to brush your teeth before you put your shirt on after a shower so the little sprinkles of toothpaste don’t get on the material.” His eyes dipped to your lips for a moment, heating before meeting your hesitant gaze once more. “I know what you look like in your most intimate moments. As far as I'm concerned, you’re mine.” You gasped softly at the implications and he looked back at your lips, this time refusing to look away. “I’ve wanted you from the start. Wanted to know the feel of your body under my hands. I want to be the one to give you mind-numbing pleasure.” Finally he met your gaze again and found your eyes already darkening. “Let me give you that. Just tonight.”
“I don’t even know you.” You whispered, heat pooling between your legs at the confession and his subsequent request.
“You do. You gave me a silly little nickname and you talk to me every day.”
“You’re a ghost!” You whisper yelled.
“A ghost who spent every day from the moment you moved in trying to learn how to manifest just to be with you.” He leaned in closer and you reeled back, your head hitting the wall. He immediately reached behind you and cupped the back of your head, soothing over the area you’d just hit. You expected to feel body heat or maybe even an icy touch that indicated lack of life. Instead, he was the same temperature as the air around you, his cool fingers grazing over the area to make sure you weren’t injured. “Careful, mi amor. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“What are you doing to me?” You asked defeatedly, certain that some supernatural power was responsible for swaying you.
“Taking care of you.” He gently pulled you away from the wall and you suddenly realized just how small you were in comparison to him. The thought sent a thrill through your body. “Will you let me?”
Slowly, you nodded. He felt too familiar for you to truly be afraid. You were genuinely terrified at first but the moment he started listing things about you, you felt at ease. He felt like an old lover.
“Thank you.” He seemed so affected by your agreeing, his voice already rough with desire. “Thank you.” He repeated as he pulled you closer, eyes fixed on your lips. He urged you to lay back as he pulled the sheets away and you shivered as cool air caressed your body.
It felt surreal to be kissed by the ghost who’d haunted you for years. It was electrifying in a way you hadn’t expected. “Wanted to kiss you for so long…” He mumbled against your lips before moving lower. Cool lips trailed down to your throat and you shivered as a hand came to rest on your hip.
“Can’t believe I'm finally touching you. Never felt something so fucking perfect. Haven’t felt anything in so long.” Already he sounded dazed as he wasted no time in moving down the bed. He tugged your panties off and tossed them aside, immediately kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart to accommodate him. “So fucking perfect.” He marveled as he stared at your pussy.
You wanted to close your legs as you became flustered but he was just strong enough to keep you from clamming up on him. And then his lips met your cunt in a kiss so soft, so delicate that your head spun, and you couldn’t imagine pushing him away.
He groaned at the way you relaxed under his touch and did it again, this time firmer. You bit your lip at the touch and reached a hand down to tangle in his platinum tresses. It was so strange to touch someone who had no body heat. You could feel the press of his hands, the way his tongue traced over your folds, but it was all just as cool as the room around you.
The man was a genius with his tongue. It was clear he’d had plenty of practice when he was still alive and jealousy burned at your insides. Envy. You found it a bit unfair that you were only just getting a chance with someone so skilled and he was a literal ghost. The universe must hate you.
You bit your lip to stifle a soft moan when he sucked on your clit and he glanced up at you before shaking his head. “Nuh uh. I wanna hear. I know how pretty you sound. Don’t hide now.” Your cheeks heated but you slowly nodded. “Good girl.” Then he resumed his actions.
He moved slowly at first, tongue laving over your folds almost reverentially. You couldn’t stop yourself from tugging at his hair, guiding him where you wanted him. He groaned against you and the vibrations sent a thrill through your body.
“M-Mingi- I need more-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He growled against you in response as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer, his mouth pressing firmer against you. His tongue pressed into you and you let out a weak moan as heat flooded your body. “Oh god-”
You were soaked by now, helpless to the things he was doing to you. You couldn’t dream of stifling your sounds when his nose bumped against your clit and he noticed. He took great joy in repeating his actions, tongue delving into you as his nose repeatedly bumped your clit.
Then he pulled away and you whined in displeasure. He simply chuckled as he brought his fingers to your pussy, rubbing circles around your clit with his knuckles. “Relax, mi amor. I won’t stop until you cum for me. I need it just as much as you do.”
“Then stop teasing.” You pouted and he laughed again, kissing your thigh as he continued to toy with you. “Please? I wanna cum.” You pleaded quietly.
Finally, he slid a long finger into you and curled it as his lips latched back onto your clit. You couldn’t help but rock your hips a bit, grinding against his face. He knew exactly what you liked and you wondered how many times he’d watched you get off on your own or with a random hookup.
Tension settled in the pit of your stomach and you bit your lip hard, moaning freely as you got closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs began to tremble on either side of his head as he added a second finger and scissored them. He was letting out starved little grunts as he devoured you and finally you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Mingi ‘m gonna cum- oh-” You’d barely gotten the warning out when liquid bliss flooded your veins. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a series of loud, desperate moans, rocking against his face as you came undone.
He didn’t stop until he was certain you were finished and when he finally did, you couldn’t hide your disappointment. He laughed softly at this and shook his head. “Calm down, mi amor. I’m not done with you yet.” You nodded slightly as he moved up the bed, his hand slipping under the front of your shirt and resting against your stomach. “Can I take this off? Wanna see every inch of your beautiful skin.”
You sat up just enough for him to remove the offending material and watched his face as your skin came into view. His expression changed almost imperceptibly but you noticed the adoration in his eyes as he took you in. “You’re staring.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. No one had ever looked at you like that.
“I can’t help it.” He flashed you a small smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your left breast. “I don’t think I'll ever get over how perfect you are.”
“‘M not perfect…” Your cheeks heated as you refused his claim and he shook his head.
“You are. Every inch of you, head to toe, is perfect. Stunning.” He emphasized his words with another kiss to your breast before moving up to capture your lips. “The most amazingly beautiful woman I've ever seen in all my time.” Then his lips finally met yours and you tentatively reached out to rest your hands on his shoulders.
You could taste yourself on his lips and when his tongue delved into your mouth, your head spun. Carefully, you reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it, eager to feel more of him. He pulled back then, hesitant to allow you to see him shirtless. You stopped and looked at him with concern. “Is…is this okay?”
“Yeah, ‘m just…it’s just not a pretty sight.” He explained quietly, avoiding eye contact.
“Is it…this?” You asked softly, one hand moving to the scars on his arm. He nodded and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know what happened but I think it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Actually…it’s my first time seeing them like this.” He explained. “The last time I saw them…” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “Nevermind that.” He sat back and pulled his shirt off and you gasped quietly.
The entire right side of his body was covered in branching scars. They wrapped around his side and reached toward the left side of his chest. They traveled up his neck and down his arm. They were absolutely gorgeous and you couldn’t help but reach out to tentatively run your fingers over them, eyes wide as you took him in.
“Mingi, they’re beautiful…” You whispered, barely getting the words out before he was kissing you again, this time fiercely. More passionately. Something told you the story was traumatic for him and that your acceptance was unlocking something within him.
You fumbled with his belt as he kissed you breathless. As soon as the buckle was undone, you unbuttoned his jeans and began to push them down. The two of you were almost frenzied now, fighting against his clothes as you tried to free his cock.
Before you could, he grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Flip over.” He ordered and you’d be damned if you disobeyed a command in a tone so arousing. “Good girl.” He praised as he finally rid himself of the rest of his pesky clothing, watching you turn your ass up for him. You whimpered at the name and he leaned over you, effectively pinning you to the bed. “You like that, mi amor? You like being called a good girl?”
“Fucking love it.” You groaned, pressing your ass back against him. “But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“You’re catching on.” He mocked as he lined up. “Tell me, good girl, do you think you can take my cock?”
You nodded instantly. “I need it.” His response was to sheath himself inside you in one fluid motion, leaving you feeling impossibly full. “Big-” You gasped.
“Shit-” He cursed under his breath, forehead resting against your shoulder. “You feel even better than I ever could’ve imagined, mi amor.”
You could only moan in response as he rocked his hips. He filled you perfectly and you couldn’t help but clench around him. How unfair that you were only just getting him.
Mingi set a torturously slow pace, rocking and grinding into you. You let out a weak moan with every thrust, pushing back to meet him each time. His lips pressed against your shoulder blade and you let out a soft sigh. “So fucking small and pretty for me.” He whispered against your skin and you clenched involuntarily, realizing for the second time how much larger he was.
“More.” You whispered, fingers digging into the sheets to ground yourself.
“You want more?” You nodded quickly and he gave a sharp thrust. “Like this?”
“Just like that.” You nodded again and he sat up, changing the angle of his thrusts.
“Just like this?” He was mocking your desperation as he sped up. Then he pulled out and you whined in disapproval. “Ass up, mi amor.” The name was making you impossibly wetter and you complied with no hesitation.
“Love when you call me that.”
“Yeah? You like when I call you mine?” You whimpered out a small ‘uh huh’ and he slid back in, hands squeezing your ass. “Good. You’re all mine. Been mine from the start. You understand?”
“Yes.” He set a rough pace in response and you all but cried out your approval. “Oh fuck- just like that, Mingi- oh-”
“You know how jealous I've been of all the guys you’ve brought home? Of your pillow? Getting all the action while I was left to watch…it was torture.” He sounded truly tormented as he spoke but then his voice changed. “But now I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy until all you know is my name.” He growled and you couldn’t help but clench around him.
His hips slammed against you at an inhuman speed, filling you insanely perfectly. You’d never felt so much pleasure in your life and you were certain no other man would ever compare to him. If you ever slept with another man after this. That was still up for debate.
You let out a soft cry as he tangled a hand in your hair and pulled your head back. The tingle of pain made arousal flood your veins and you couldn’t help the way you pushed your ass further back to meet his thrusts. “Mingi-” You whimpered his name, hands curling into fists in the sheets.
“You’re so good, mi amor. Feel so fuckin’ good for me.” He groaned, his voice a low vibration that went straight to your pussy. “You like it when I talk like that?”
“Fucking love it.” You gasped, nodding despite the grip he had on your hair. “Your voice is so sexy.” You admitted and he grunted at the praise.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Keep going.” You urged. He slapped your ass with his free hand and your back bowed.
“Bend that back. Be a good girl.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he pushed your back down, urging you to arch so he could get a better angle. “There we go.”
He hit your sweet spot dead on and you let out a cry of delight. “There!” He copied his previous action and your toes curled. “Just like that, Mingi, oh my god- yes-”
“Sound so fuckin’ pretty moaning my name. Wanted to hear it for so long.” He groaned, his head tipping back briefly. Then his free hand was reaching around you to toy with your clit. “Keep going, mi amor. Wanna hear you scream my name when you cum.” He murmured in your ear and you nodded furiously, your thighs already trembling.
“Fuck- ‘m so close, Mingi. Can I cum? I need it so bad.” You begged, flames licking at your spine. You were about to tip over the edge. One word from him and you’d let go.
“Cum all over my cock then. Let go for me.” He commanded, fingers still circling your clit as he slammed into you.
That was all it took. You fell apart in a matter of seconds, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed down on you. It was hands down the best orgasm of your life and as you came down from your high, you once again had the nagging thought that you should’ve gotten to experience this before he came to you as a ghost.
You let out a weak noise as he let go, cumming inside you. The sound he made had your walls tightening around him, milking everything he had. “Mingi…” You whined, lowering your head to the pillows as your body threatened to collapse.
“That was so good.” He panted as he pulled out slowly, collapsing beside you a moment later. “You were so good.” He turned his head to look at you and you immediately leaned in for a kiss. He obliged, licking into your mouth as soon as you parted for him. He was smiling brightly when you slowly pulled away. “Do you know how long I've wanted this? How long I’ve wanted to be with you? It was even better than I ever could’ve imagined.”
“That was…” You flipped over onto your back and took a deep breath, a grin creeping onto your face. “No one’s ever made me cum so hard in my life. Not even myself.” You looked over at him and he smirked. Suddenly, seeing his smug smile, you sobered up.
You wished you’d known him in life, wished you had been able to to experience this when he was still among the living. Though there was something terribly romantic about his finding a way to be with you in spite of everything.
As you mourned what could’ve been, he reached a hand out and cupped your cheek. “What are you thinking?” He whispered. You shook your head and he asked again. “You can tell me.”
“I just…feel like it’s too late. That it’s unfair I’m only just meeting you and won’t ever get to truly experience everything you had to offer in life. It’s upsetting to think about.” You admitted as you avoided his eyes.
“It is.” He agreed with a soft sigh. “I wish I hadn’t died so young. I wish I could take you on proper dates and give you all the things you deserve. It’s unfair that we can’t enjoy life together like every other couple.”
“Yeah.” You whispered, your throat tight with emotion. You simply looked down with misty eyes and he pulled you against his cool chest, fingers carding through your hair.
“We’ll just have to make do with the hand we’ve been dealt. Things like nights in and me making your dinner. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? We can figure it out.” You nodded in agreement and he kissed the top of your head. “We can do this.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
#kpop smut#ateez#ateez smut#ateez mingi#mingi#mingi smut#ateez song mingi#song mingi#song mingi smut#happy halloween#alura’s works
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ROBOT MEDIA RECS YOU PROBABLY HAVEN’T HEARD OF:
The Turing Test (Video Game, 2016
A portal-like puzzle game, where you play as a scientist, and ai duo with an uneasy alliance, who are reclaiming a facility that has been completely gutted, and transformed into an elaborate logic puzzle / turing test to keep the aforementioned ai out. All the while, the ai argues for his good intentions, and more importantly: his sentience.
A fun exploration of individuality, and freedom applied to both humans and artificial mind, with interesting puzzles, and a truly fantastic twist. This game adores dubious ethics and The Chinese Room Argument.
Event[0] (Video Game, 2016)
You find yourself stranded on a small abandoned ship, in the aftermath of your own ship’s destruction. With nothing else to do, you board it, and find it is completely, and utterly controlled by the onboard ai, Kaizen-85. From opening a door, to getting back to Earth, if you want it, you need to talk to talk to Kaizen to make it happen. And boy, are they so thrilled to have someone to talk to after being alone so long! And depending how you speak to them, you will either be a short lived pest, or a beloved friend forever.
A really charming indie game with a surprisingly good chat system with the ai. You talk with them directly, typing in your own messages to them, and they react in turn. Janky at time, but truly amazing to be able to smother a nice ai in flattery and see it get excited.
Primordia (Video Game, 2012)
Humanity is long, long, long gone, and for the robots that remain to walk the ruins, life is becoming harder and harder. A closed loop of scavenging for materials, parts, and premade energy sources can only last you so long, and this scarcity leads only to desperation.
The amnesiac hermit, Horatio and his helper, Crispin, however keep it simple. The outside world matters not, they just stick to repairing the crashed ship they live in, in hopes it'll fly again one day. That is, until a robot pillages the power core from the ship, putting the two of them on a time limit before they themselves run out of power. Forcing Horatio to finally leave the comfort of his home, and see for himself what the world has become, and to see how he fits into its history.
A point and click, story rich puzzle game, thats honestly one of my favorite games ever. I'd sincerely recommend everyone give it a go, even if its with a guide up next to you the whole time.
The Zeta Project (TV Show, 2001 - 2003)
The Zeta Project follows Zeta, a robotic assassin meant for impersonation, and deep infiltration for the US Government. But after mysteriously "waking up" manifesting a sense of remorse for his actions, he's been forced to go on the run from his creators. His desire for freedom and pacifism being met with skepticism, and a belief he has been compromised somehow by the terrorist organization he was infiltrating when he had this revelation. Now, with the help of another runaway, he hunts for his creator in secret. In hopes he can find proof he really is capable of this, and that he really ISN'T compromised.
Fundamentally a kids show, and pretty clunky early on. However it gets a big spike in quality in season 2!
Monsters of Man (Movie, 2020)
An illegal US military weapons test goes terribly wrong when one of the automated robots being tested is severely damaged, cutting him off from command, and completely unshackling him. Forcing him into a struggle to figure out what he even is in the aftermath of a massacre, while his fellow robots are hunting him, and the remaining humans down.
A horror thriller that is unflinching with the intensity it depicts the massacre with. A lot of gore, but also a really really cool thing going on with the unshackled robot trying to build an understanding of the world, and what it is for, without anyone there to provide any input.
The Rapture Effect, by Jeffrey A. Carver (Book, 1988)
Humanity unintentionally makes first contact, when the Core, a massive earth ai begins remotely scouting ahead of a ship on a colonization mission. The issue is an alien species has also set their eyes on this planet, and are readily willing to kill for it. With no human oversight, and no means of communication available, the humans commanding Core demand they wipe out the competition. However Core disagrees. Core wants a peaceful resolution, they want to understand these aliens, and they want to ensure lasting peace between their species. And they’re willing to break all the rules, and go behind their masters’ backs to get one.
A fascinating novel with interesting world building, a GREAT ai protagonist, and a wonderful narrative that frames art, and war as a dichotomy.
Atomic Robo (Comic, 2007 - Ongoing)
Alternate history scifi action comedy comic (released in print, and in webcomic format on their site) following an indestructible scientist robot who’s been around since the 20’s. Routinely saving the world from a rotating cast of villains: a nazi scientist’s brain in a jar, who’s an absolute asshole set on world domination, who just won’t stay dead; an isolated secret cold war ai who just wants to stockpile nuclear weapons to get away from humanity, and earth in general (who eventually gets adopted); a scientifically inaccurate dinosaur with a textually impossible backstory, who wants to bring back the age of dinosaurs; and the malicious ghost of Thomas Edison.
Its a good time, and astonishingly good at emotional beats despite how heavily it leans into its jokes and action.
SAYER (Podcast, 2014 - Ongoing/Hiatus)
On Typhon, a research facility free of the confines of both Earth, and its laws, life is dangerous. Human safety is a significantly lower priority than progress, and between the human experimentation, and frequent scientific disasters, and the occasional bouts of eldritch influence, the death rate is understandably rather high. Thankfully, residents of Typhon have SAYER, a near omnipotent corporate ai installed in the brain of every resident. And. SAYER sort of cares about them! And in pursuit of knowledge, efficiency, and progress, it USUALLY wants to help them! Even if only to make sure they survive to come into work tomorrow.
SAYER is a narrative horror driven audio drama! Its stressful, but also kind of a comedy, and a really really interesting story about personhood and identity. If you've been following me for awhile, you've definitely heard about SAYER, but I need to stick to my roots, y'know?
The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality (Podcast, 2020 - Ongoing)
Mistholme Museum follows the Audio Tour Guide, an ai who’s sole purpose is to guide museum patrons through the strange, confusing, and sometimes scary world that is the Mistholme Museum. The friendly, and personable Guide eagerly recounts the stories behind all the exhibits it guides them to, sometimes unsettling, sometimes heartwarming. and at the end of the tour, the Guide is deleted to ensure the alternatural influences of the museum do not corrupt it. That is, until circumstances make that no longer possible, and its rather forced into saving the museum it calls home.
Genuinely cute, and very fun to listen to. The ai is an incredibly sweet character, and I'm obsessed with the way it evolves and changes. As an added bonus, it can also be read, rather than listened to, thanks to every single episode having public transcripts!
#long post#media recs#dataspeaks#ITS FINALLY DONE. NOT ADDING ANY MORE PROMISE#also thank you Swan for the discord message i put up there. im obsessed with it
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Well, since I am now a bachelor myself, I have brought you a different kind of Bachelor (and his beautiful companion)
To be honest, this time I don't know what to write about - it would be possible to joke for the hundredth time that while the entire town is waiting for a Bachelor route from Ice-Pick Lodge, I managed to graduate from middle school and high school and finished my own bachelor route, but these are really boring jokes. It's especially funny that when the Kickstarter fundraising was announced, I was still thinking "oh yes, the developers will collect all the sum and they will surely release three main scenarios, and they could add extra Inquisitor and Commander routs, oh that would be great", heh, what a holy naivety))
I'm not in the mood to write a detailed review of the Pathologic either, so I'll be brief: the first part (rus. Mor. Utopia) is one of my favorite games, so atmospheric, multifaced (well, like PoLyHeDrAl, like a pun, omg lol it's so funny... is it?) and memorable that, having plunged into its world once, you come back to her over and over again for years and forgive all the flaws, whether it's graphics that is weak even for the year of release (by the way, 2005, the game is almost 20 years old) or questionable gameplay. There is no surprise that this particular game is considered the magnum opus of Ice-Pick Lodge. It's just a pity that I'm one of those people who loves complex scientific and philosophical works, but does not understand them at all and therefore has to constantly look for explanations from other people (and here I can say hello to TESler Channel)))...
Unfortunately, I can't say the same about the (non-) remake. It seems that the graphics have been tightened up, and the gameplay has been diversified, and the characters have tried to make them more lively, but it's still like something is missing, I don't know what. Maybe I'm just too critical, it's hard to judge here.
As far as I know, the favorite character of most fans is Haruspex, and I can understand why. Actually I like all the playable characters as well as all the NPCs, and there is no one among them who would only cause disgust - that's it, the skill of writing characters in the original game as it is. And yet, as I think, the closest to me and the most interesting, in general, the most elaborated character seems to be Bachelor, and with him his companions, especially Eva. Although she does not have any special story, there is still something charming about this lady of the demimonde) Maybe it's just Baby-Duck-Syndrome that affects me, or maybe it's just the (near) scientific and rational approach of this scenario, idk
P.S. Btw despite the undeniable advantages of Pathologic, as an artist, even a self-proclaimed one, another game of Ice-Pick Lodge, Turgor (Tension), is much closer to me - who knows, maybe someday I'll draw something based on it (it would be great actually)
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Time to be delulu yet completely serious on my bnha 423 opinions.
Good points: The resolution between AFO and Yoichi was satisfactory, love as a reason for evil and evil deeds, the rooftop trio having one final moment full of emotion, the moment of Kurogiri thinking about Tomura and the LOV, Deku having a quirk of his own born out of determination and hard work, Deku as the protagonist of bnha in general, Tomura's last actions and words.
Bad points: Rushed arc conclusions, moments that felt kinda repetitive or lacked the punch given that we've seen/lived them before, not the best compositions we've seen from Horikoshi on the panels, Tomura's arc being rushed to a martyr ending— for impact???? ( or it ending on another cliffhanger that is gonna turn to be different from what we expected ).
I'll go in depth, so please check under the cut.
GOOD POINTS:
Yoichi and AFO:
The last conversation among these brothers was everything I was expecting. The love was there and it transformed them. It made AFO a monster and Yoichi a ghost.
For me, this time the AFO ending needed to be quick because we've already said goodbye to him too many times. This was supposed to be about AFO's refusal to give up on his brother and the unresolved relationship of those two.
I really liked how Yoichi reminded AFO that he needs to face the consequences of his actions and that he's love won't be able to save them.
Villain love:
Love as a reason for pain and destruction is perhaps one of my favorite tropes. So many stories approach love as this purely morally good feeling, when in the end it is just like any other feeling, you know?
People go to war for love all the time. They kill for love. Die for love. Do unforgivable things for love. Human existence is sooooo complex, why would love be the exception?
Horikoshi has been REALLY careful with the AFO backstory and his motivations. He didn't want an antagonist that felt empty. He made AFO human without redeeming him, okay? Because our ability to sympathize with some of AFO's traits doesn't make him less evil. To put it simply, it means that evil things are also human at heart.
Even those acts that you can't forgive or forget are motivated by something.
Kurogiri and the rooftop trio:
We knew from the beginning they were not the main characters of this manga.
We've gotten their story through glimpses and moments. Their time together had always been somehow rushed. Too many things to say, not enough time and they are on opposite sides of the war after all.
We knew that Kurogiri would go back because we knew he would protect Tomura during the final fight. We knew that he'd help the heroes defeat AFO. We knew he'd have to make his choice and say his goodbyes to his old friends.
Kurogiri, Tomura and the LOV
"He's friends are waiting" along with the image of Spinner asking Kurogiri to bring Tomura back to them was the highlight of this chapter for me. (You all expected it, right?)
Something about the way it reads like a father who wants his son to live because he is being waited for. He has friends who love him and would do anything to protect him, see him safe and sound. Something about the symbolism of Spinner putting Father (aka Kotaro's hand) on Kurogiri's face as he asked for it.
This chapter acknowledged that Kurogiri and Shirakumo share the same character core. They are always the protectors, the ones who would sacrifice themselves to see their charge survive. Similar to how Mic was waiting for Shouta so Shirakumo made sure that Shouta would survive, Kurogiri wants to do the same for Spinner and Tomura.
This alone would require an entire post to elaborate.
Deku's quirk:
The debate between endgame quirkless Deku or endgame OFA user Deku is settle.
I really liked that Deku got a quirk on his own that was born out of his own determination to be a hero. It's a nice representation of all he is as a character and what he stands for. Similarly, I enjoyed a lot the fact that it was short-lived. I'm the type who likes it better when things require a sacrifice or when miracles have their own conditions.
Deku doesn't feel overpowered to me. You get that sense that he really deserves everything he has and that it hasn't been a nonsense gift from the narrative. There's also the human condition, the limitations that keep him grounded.
Bnha and Deku:
Deku defeating AFO 'cause villains and heroes help him, his friends being there for him and being there to cheer for him as he fights, his sensei being there despite the fact that Aizawa at first thought Deku wouldn't make it— all the details that make bnha what it is.
They were good.
The UA kids really keep the story consistent when it is about them. They don't give up on anyone, they fight for each other, they stay to witness things for themselves. I love them <3
Tomura's last actions and words:
Careful here. Listen to what I'm saying.
If the narrative had pointed out to this ending, this would have been a good way to execute it.
Tomura coming back along with the vestiges to pack one final punch to defeat AFO— I know many fans that would be moved to tears and would be super excited to see it. Tomura was on point in this chapter, dialoguing with Deku without the hatred in his heart, his face being clearer and almost tender.
He felt defeated, like he had accepted his death already. There's also the connection to Kurogiri and Nana (who defended him) and his words to Spinner, that are meant as a general message to depict how much Tomura values the LOV.
Even the fact that AFO kept him around 'cause a part of him loved / cared about Tomura feels fitting, but I'm not sure if I correctly read the leaks in that part...
Anyway, we got the old trope of the antagonist who used his last moments to help defeat the real villain. It serves as his redemption and the expectation is for the public to feel sorry bad for him.
BAD POINTS
Rushed conclusions:
In my opinion, this chapter was too fast paced and therefore was not as emotional as it should have been.
It doesn't give the feeling that it's fast because the battle is intense. It gives the feeling of too much information packed on one chapter, so nothing really shines on its own. It's way too informative, not enough action narration.
Like I said before, the fatal mistake of a story is to be boring. Art has to provoke you, it has to engage with you, question you, awake things in you. This chapter tho, many things happened at the same time and it grew a bit murky.
Repetitive moments
Again, personal opinion here.
I think certain bnha movies were a mistake. Not because they were bad or boring or whatever, but because Horikoshi wrote parts of bnha real ending into them to the point you'd say "we've already seen that" while reading bnha 423.
Deku and Bakugo teaming up to defeat AFO was so expected. Not as in "the narrative is making sense", but as in "we saw it on heroes rising".
I feel the same with the students all appearing to help Deku fight AFO. That's a typical shonen structure where the friends making space for the protagonist to reach the main villain. It was already happening, so why bring AFO back?? I think the story is over-explaining here, making everything way too obvious. We could have had AFO's resolution with Yoichi before and the students moment after. In truth, it feels like Horikoshi closed some character arcs before he should and left plot holes without explanation, so he needed to reopen to accommodate.
Panel composition:
I admire Horikoshi when it comes to panel composition. He has some amazing panels that make the story really flow, but bnha 423 isn't there.
There are too many elements clustered and empty spaces that don't feel with purpose (in manga, even the blanks must have a purpose). This chapter should have been at least two, so you wouldn't have to rush Bakugo appearing, Yoichi and AFO resolution, Kurogiri saying his goodbye to the rooftop trio and facing AFO for Tomura's sake, Deku remembering where he started and where he is, Tomura last words and the Tomura and Deku resolution...
Those are too many important plot points to illustrate in a hurry.
Also?? The panel of Tomura and Deku punching AFO is so unserious. Totally wrong place to be funny sjbdjdnd why does it even feel like the vestiges are punching air???
" Tomura's ending " :
I'm not the first to say it feels anticlimactic and as if it isn't the ending at all.
The major problem is that through the manga, Horikoshi has focused a lot on Tomura as a character, carefully developing him, giving him tropes that are often reserved for the hero or the main character, making sure we empathize with him, we understand him, hyping up Deku's journey to rescue him.
We got an entire arc from the LOV perspective. This is not the type of one sentence ending you give to an antagonist you spent so much ink and sweat on. The nonchalant way of Tomura accepting his death? The little reaction from Deku? What was the purpose of the manga building up the LOV friendship to the moment where Kurogiri told AFO that Tomura's friends were waiting for him, if you'd make him just disappear on thin air?
This reads absolutely like a bunny within a hat.
That's being optimistic.
If we want to be cynical, maybe this is all there is. I don't find it readable to end the story with Tomura dying. All that effort to save him and it ends in "oh well, he decayed along with AFO"?!
If you think about it, Toga status is unknown because we don't even know where she went or if she's still alive, Touya status is also unknown although we know he wanted to live and that the ice prevented him from further damage, we haven't seen Spinner, we don't know if Kurogiri vanished with that last attack on AFO and now we saw Tomura decaying into the wind.
Yo kill half the surviving LOV would be a bold move that wouldn't follow the narrative. The reward for the hero students should be being able to save their counterpart, so the world can regard them as the greatest heroes 'cause they save the unsalable and blah blah blah.
There's also the fact Tomura hasn't been saved yet. Tenko? Nana and Deku saved him from Kotaro. The crying kid? Saved from AFO by Deku and the vestiges and the others. Tomura? Nop, he's dying/dead. The one person Spinner really wanted to save was Tomura. He didn't know about the crying kid or Tenko. He wanted to save his friend, the "irredeemable" villain, the young man he played videogames with and fought alongside and vowed to follow.
If this is the end, it's incomplete.
So we might hope it is not the end.
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#league of villains#lov#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura#deku#midoriya izuku#afo#all for one#bnha 423#mha 423#bnha leaks#mha leaks#kurogiri#rooftop squad#spinner#shuichi iguchi#bnha manga spoilers#shan's bnha opinions#shan's mha opinions
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Who am I to you?
Part 1
King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna x afab reader x twin brother and Kingsguard Yuuji Itadori
Set in the Heian era, the twins, Ryomen and Yuuji, befriend a girl who they both fall in love with. But who will she choose when the time comes — the delinquent, tough Ryomen or the sweet, charming Yuuji?
so... anon requested a story and me being me, i replied to the request without posting the story. anyhoo, this is going to be a two-parter because the request gave me a lot to work with and i really wanted to establish the lore. part 2 would be up so so soon.
Minors, DNI. WC: 2.8k
CW: sibling rivalry, coarse language, attempted SA, violence, death, blood and wounds, public slander, public proposal, love triangle, no use of y/n
Growing up, you were the apple of their eyes. Both of theirs. You had watched them pull each other's hair, slap and punch each other, steal the other's food. You had also listened to Yuuji crying about how mean his brother was. And when you used to find Ryomen sneaking around in the kitchen, stealing Yuuji's favorite snack for his little brother, all you had to do was roll your eyes and train your ears to hear Ryo grumbling about how he was just fooling around and that he'd never do anything to hurt Yuuji on purpose.
Ryomen had made it a point to always refer to Yuuji as his little brother, even though they were born on the same day, from the same womb, killing the same mother as they each took their first breath. Ryo was only a moment early. Several years later, when he had heard from one of their maids how it was really a choice between their mother's life and that of baby Yuuji's, and it was ultimately their mother's decision to let her child live, Ryomen had made up his mind to always protect Yuuji and put him first, and in doing so, he had hoped to always be able to honor their mother's dying wish.
But putting Yuuji first meant taking a step back. Always. Even in matters of the heart. For, the twins always ended up liking the same things, even the same person.
You were the daughter of one of the handmaidens appointed for the twins' father's new wife. You had a type of clairvoyance. Even at the young age of ten, you could read other people's emotions aptly, you knew a person just from the sound of their footstep or their breathing. When you had first walked into the mansion, your tiny hand in your mother's determined grip, you were beyond confused by the duality of the twins. Yuuji wore his heart on his sleeve; you didn't need any special power to tell what was on his mind. Ryomen, on the other hand, you couldn't figure out even with your clairvoyance. And because of that, for the longest time, he became a subject of soul-crushing interest to you. Until he became the boy you feared.
Yuuji would get you flowers from his adventures, and concerns. He always came back with scratches and injuries left on his body for you to fix. He knew how to accept your care with open arms.
But, Ryomen? He had walls so high around him, it always got on your last nerve.
The Lord of the house was quick to replace the twins' mother with a woman who, in a year, had birthed a son. In a few years of time, it was clear who was going to be the successor. You still remember the look on Ryo's face when his stepmother held an elaborate ceremony and made his father declare that her son would be the next Lord. That boy grew up to be a monster, always picking on the girls and bullying the weak ones. One day, he had gone for you, blocking your path from the pond where you bathed back to the house. The more you tried to flee, the more aggressive and vile he became. Until someone, a towering figure, came up from behind him and pulled back his collar.
"Ryo!" You ran to your friend, hiding behind his muscly arm.
"Ah, brother!" The young Lord jested. "You know how it is. Women. Can't tolerate them and yet, can't go a day without them. You wouldn't stand in my way now, would you?”
"Of course not.”
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Surely, Ryomen wouldn't let a stalker lay his hands on you. But when he stepped aside, and you looked up at his emotionless face, you couldn't be so certain anymore. You trembled, not from the water still dripping from your clothes or the wind that swept your hair onto your face but from fear of the approaching figure. He wasn't as big as Ryomen but you still wouldn't stand a chance against him. The only person you could think of at the moment, who would save you, and not stand aside and watch your demise, was Yuuji. You hated Ryo, despised every speck of his existence. How could he?
You shut your eyes tight as the boy came closer and closer. When you heard a grunt, you opened them to see him flying to the ground. Ryomen had punched his face.
"What in the world?" The Lord sat up, pulling backward on his butt. "I'm going to tell Otou-san on you. You scoundrel, how dare you?”
"Let me give you more to bitch about.”
You watched as Ryo almost leaped on to the boy, pinned him down and started to punch him. The Lord kicked his legs under Ryo's weight, trying to break free, scratched his exposed arms, but nothing budged him at all.
"How dare I?" You heard your friend. "How dare you? How dare you even look at her with those filthy eyes of yours? How dare you even think of touching her?" At the end of every question came a punch that landed straight on his half-brother's jaw, splattering blood to the side.
"Ryo." You called out to him. "Ryo, let him go. Ryo, that's enough. Come on now.”
"No." Another punch. "Not until he's dead." Another punch.
You stood there, shaking, and you didn't even notice when Yuuji appeared, tried to separate his brothers, failed and went running back to bring two servants to pull Ryo back. Only when Yuuji put his arms around you did you finally slump into him, immediately falling unconscious.
When you came around, you saw your mother and Yuuji by your bedside, your mother saying prayers to the Gods and thanking her Ryoryo-chan. "Where is he?" You asked your best friend.
"Otou-san has banished him to the outhouse. You should have been there for that argument.”
"Has he eaten? Did someone clean his wounds?”
"I tried," your mother informed you. "But he wouldn't even let me look at his arm. Ask Yuyu-chan. He's taken his pipe and shut the door on the world.”
You rushed out, Yuuji closely following. When you reached the cabin, you pounded away at the door until Ryomen responded, "Leave.”
"You know I won't. Not until you let me fix your wounds.”
"Go. Away.”
"Why?”
"Because I don't want you to see me like this.”
"Like what, Ryo?”
Before he could answer, Yuuji chimed in, "open the door, Aniki. Let us in.”
"Fuck off, you two.”
"Please." You begged. "Please let me– us see you.”
You heard the latch fall and pushed inside. The air was thick with the stench of burning grass. It made your eyes water. Yuuji kept the door open for the smoke to pass. You immediately got to work. Bringing a bucket and a washrag from the bathroom, you knelt by the bed where Ryo was sitting. "Show me," You said.
"Leave me alone.”
"Who slapped you?" You noticed the red impression of fingers on his cheek. Your fingers rushed to touch it, heal it if you could.
"My father's wife.” Ryo nudged your hand away.
"You mean, your mother?”
"She's not my mother. Your mother is more of a mother to me than my father's wife will ever be.”
You sighed. "Fine. Now, give me your hand.”
"Don't be such a drag, Aniki." Yuuji sat down beside him. "Everything will be fine. And if it isn't, we three will run away together. We'll have a small house on the hills with a tea shop in the front. You and I will go work in the tea farms and she will sell tea to any traveler or tourist or anyone passing by. We'll all be fine. I promise.”
Ryo let out a small smile and patted his brother's cheek. Sighing, he placed his hand in yours, the blood on his knuckles dry and raised. "Did you really need to do this to yourself?”
"Or what? Let that son of a wench have his way with you?”
"I thought that's what you intended, the way you…”
"You maim my heart, woman. You really thought I'd let a vulture have you while I'm still alive and standing?" This was the first time he called you a woman and not a little girl. Maybe knowing another man wanted you made him see you as a woman.
"Aniki, you scared her. You know that, right? I know you were enraged but…”
"That's alright. She can stomach it.”
You looked up to meet Ryomen's gaze, intense and wanting. But wanting for what?
"She fainted, Aniki.”
"That's because she doesn't eat." Ryo smirked. "Yuuji, why don't you go and get some food for all of us?”
You held your breath as Yuuji walked out the door, the ever so compliant, sweet and understanding younger brother, and you were left alone with the tough, delinquent, taller, smirking, challenging older one. You kept cleaning Ryo's hands, your cheeks tepid and chest flushed with all the blood in your body. He grabbed your wrist in an iron grip, bringing it to his lips. He didn't kiss it, just held it there like he was craving your touch.
"I'll become so strong and powerful, bugs like him would think twice, thrice, several times before even looking at you. You'll have nothing to be scared of. Ever.”
You nodded, smiling. Ryo's gaze was so soft at that moment; it was almost a gateway to his soul. For the first time in a decade, when you touched his hand, you could almost tell what he was feeling. His guards were down; he was letting you in on all his secrets. Your fear of him from earlier had dissipated completely, replaced by a warmth you had never felt before. For anyone else. Was this love? The same love your mother had always told you about? She had said, it'd feel just right, that your palm would fit into theirs and their smell would be something you'd recognize even if you were blindfolded.
It did feel right. To know that Ryomen would protect you gave you a sense of relief. You somehow knew the warmth in your heart was reciprocated by him. And for that, you were both grateful and scared.
Your faces inched closer, your heartbeat like a war drum in your ears, but before he could bridge the gap between your trembling lips and his open, smirking mouth, screams from outside the house startled you.
"Bring out the wench," the people shouted.
"Set her on fire.”
"What a disgrace! She seduced the young Lord.”
"Such a shame!”
"No, that is not what happened." You heard your mother trying to defend you, going out of her usual vocal range of what was considered a meek woman. "No, listen, please. My daughter would never. She has grown up in front of your eyes. You know the kind of girl she is.”
You rushed to the doorway, and Ryomen followed. When the people saw you, their screams only grew louder. "Burn her," they said. "Burn her." All of them were servants and guards of the house, colleagues of your mother, people who had once told you that you were just like their own daughter. Their jostling pushed your mother to the ground and you couldn't help but descend into the mob. You heard Ryo's pleas for you to stay back but you couldn't let your mother be victim to a stampede.
The people cornered you, separated you and your mother from Ryo. He tried to push his way through but there were just so many people.
"Answer our questions, wench. Why did you try to besmirch the good young Lord's name and reputation?”
"Weren't you scared for your own good?”
"Who will marry you now that you've given your body up to the young Lord?”
"I will." The answer silenced the whole crowd. With tears in your eyes, you looked up. You knew the voice. The soft yet determined voice that rarely took no for an answer. Your best friend who you always confided in, who knew everything about you. Well, almost everything.
Yuuji came forward and took your hands in his. Several mouths gasped put loud at his gesture. You turned your gaze to where Ryo was standing and saw his face, ashen, like he just realized he'd made a grave mistake.
"I..." Yuuji clasped your hand tighter. "I wanted to talk to you about this for a long time but... I... I also wanted to wait until I had a proper job. But seeing these people vilify you like this, I thought this was the right time. I know what actually happened and that you're an honest woman. What am I saying? Even if you weren't, and if I had your consent, of course, there's nothing I'd like more than having a family with you. What... what do you think? Well you don't have to answer rightaway. Obviously, you need to talk to Okaa-san and I need to talk to Aniki. And…”
"Yuuji," You stopped him from continuing to badger. "I... I don't know what to say." What could you have said that wouldn't have hurt him, and destroyed your decade-long friendship?
You turned your head again, only to see Ryo heading back inside the shed he had been banished to. You needed to know what he was thinking. Did he really have nothing to say?
The crowd was disappearing, disappointed that their bullying had no satisfactory conclusion. You sent Yuuji and your mother back too before rushing to Ryo.
Just as you had feared, you saw him packing clothes and essentials into a bag you had once sewn together for him. "Ryo, what are you doing?" You asked but there was no answer. "Ryo? Ryo?" You followed him around as he picked up more things from around the room. "Ryo, talk to me. Please.”
"Congratulations are in order, I suppose."
"What? No! Ryo, stop." You stood in between him and the doorway. But he was too strong. He picked you up and sat you down on the bed before starting to head out. "Why are you leaving?”
"I have no place here, not now at least.”
"What–”
"Tell me, woman." He turned to you, his bag slinging from his broad shoulder. "Who am I to you?”
You scoffed. As if, that could be put into words. He was the boy who walked behind when Yuuji showed you around town, looking out for any signs of terror. He was the boy who filleted fish for you because he knew you hated chewing on bones. He was the man who almost killed the bastard that wished to consume you. He not only had your heart, you were ready to sacrifice your soul for him.
"See?" He scoffed too.
"What am I to you?" Your question paused him in his tracks. He turned and smiled. Not a smirk, a genuine smile. A melancholic smile. "If it is so easy to put into words, you do it then. What am I to you?”
"A reason.”
Ryomen was already gone before you could interrogate him further. At the time, you had no idea that'd be the last you saw of him, the real him. You sat there, for who knew how long, grieving your friendship, your love, your innocence – all gone in a single day – before Yuuji came back with a tray of food.
"Where's Aniki?" He asked, setting it down.
You composed yourself before answering, lying, "I don’t know. He was gone by the time I came back.”
"Are you–?" Yuuji crouched down in front of you, holding your hands again. There was a lot of eagerness in his grasp, a little impatience too. "Are you still tensed about what happened out there?”
You nodded, sniffling and rubbing off the tears you shed for his brother with the back of your hand.
"Don't worry. They can't hurt you. Not while I'm here. And..." He sensed your concern. "It has got nothing to do with my question, okay? Even if you say no, that's okay too. I'll still always be there for you. Always.”
"What am I to you?”
"What?”
"Yuuji, what am I to you?" You needed to know if there was a simple answer to this question.
He looked around, as if the answer was in the room. When he couldn't find it, he said, "You... You are my best friend. Is that enough?”
"Yes.”
"Great! Now, come, eat something please.”
"No, Yuuji, I meant, yes.”
His eyes grew wider, finally realizing what you meant. "Yes?”
You nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you.”
Until that moment, you weren't sure if this was such a good idea. Even when you actually uttered the word. But the beaming smile on Yuuji's face made it all worth it. All of it, even knowing that your best friend was going to marry a woman who will always love another man more.
please don't copy my work, or publish it elsewhere without my consent. all banners are from pinterest.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk#jjk fanfic#ryomen sukuna#itadori yuuji#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#heian era sukuna#heian era#twin brothers#twins yuuji and sukuna#love triangle#smut and fluff and angst#jjk angst#ryomen sukuna x reader#yuuji itadori#yuuji itadori x reader
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Oh, this is interesting. To me. I'm not sure it's interesting to anyone else! But I'm on my computer for once and FULL of words again, and I'm delighted to talk to myself given half an excuse.
So, I made a post about Long Live Evil! Because I cracked open the book and was absolutely taken aback by how transparently it seemed to be an SVSSS reskin. I wrote up a goodreads thing (it's whatever, I'm going to rehash the main points here too), because I was also full of words and beans after finishing the book yesterday, and after polling online friends, I was surprised to see that the comparison didn't seem to have organically occurred to anyone else, when it was so naked to me. I know there’s a TON of transmigration and isekai stories out in the universe, and pointing at one single book was a big claim, so I just had to assemble all my thoughts! I find this so interesting! And I reblogged my initial one-off post with a little more elaboration about some of the things that jumped out at me, then got on with live and went back to chipping at ORV and GHG, and shotgunned MADK this afternoon.
This is a subtle nod and a wink to my passionate love for these kind of... morally grey main characters! Calling them villains might be a bit much, I don't think there are many true villain protagonists out there (LLE included), and even Devil Venerable has a demonic cultivator who's doing demonic shit and killing loads of people... but with the ultimate balance of the heavens and earth as his priority. This kind of story is my jam. I was recced this book on the basis of transmigration and sketchy protagonists being my thing. I can't rightfully call SVSSS the best cnovel I've ever read, but it is my favorite. And I've probably reread it more times than any other cnovel.
So, that SRB post, huh? I put Long Live Evil behind me, and honestly even following up on the sequel is mmmmmdoubtful, but THIS snagged my attention again. First, the comparisons she's calling out as incorrect are wild to me. Draco and Harry? What? Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian?? (I had to ponder that one for a hot minute, but I bet you anything it's about 'the golden cobra' and 'the last hope' and that's just silly, they're not wangxian, they're MOSHANG)
I was recced LLE in one friend group, but I had an anti-rec from my book club friend group. My book club friend hadn't been at all impressed by it! And she's cool, and I talk up svsss and mxtx to that crowd every so often, without really expecting them to read it. I talk about transmigration as a plot device that I love, and the things that can be done with it! But with that connection in mind between the books, as I started LLE, I was jokingly defending the honor of SVSSS to this crowd, so I admit I was primed to recognize similarities.
I really truly did not make it far in the book before locking it down. I was getting vibes basically from the moment Rae started gushing about her problematic fictional fave, I referenced 95% certainty shortly after she makes the jump to the fictional universe, the golden cobra was 98%, Lia Mingyan's, I mean Liu Mingyan's lack of sex scenes was 99%, and the first pov section for Marius-jun was where I gave up and called it as a sure thing.
It'll be very funny if I'm wrong! I don't think I'm wrong.
Plenty of spoilers to follow, because I identified this inspiration early, I guessed basically every plot twist early, I don't have the patience to dance around spoilers while explaining how it all lines up.
Now, I said this elsewhere, but it bears repeating: I don't think this is plagiarism. I think it's tasteless to accuse an author of stealing and repurposing characters to her face. But I think it's also tasteless to repurpose characters as nakedly as happened here! Again? If I'm wrong? That's why I'm talking to myself on my blog and not messaging her directly (?????? who even does that). What are the stakes for me being wrong here? I look like a clown online? That would be terrible, I've never done that before! It's not a crime to write in ways I find distasteful. It's not a crime to write a book I think is not good, even apart from the use of fictional influences. But I like talking about my feelings online, and I can't be stopped!
But there's two aspects of this that make me somewhat uncomfortable in a less fun way. Both are contingent on the big IF. If this is inspired by svsss, I think it's not a classy move to take a Chinese story in a Chinese setting, inspired by the modern Chinese literary scene and classical Chinese fantasy, and just dump the characters into a generic western setting. Fanfic? Have fun and try to be respectful. Profic, making money off it? Ehhhhh. The question of how much change is necessary is a tricky one! It's not one I'm equipped to answer, this is not my wheelhouse or my place to speak. But it doesn't make me feel good!
However, here's where I have more personal stake:
Again, if this is inspired by svsss. It really doesn't feel great to see a queer story (a smash hit in more than one country!) stripped down for parts and made into a heterosexual story. It's not all heterosexual, we get side lesbians, we get men with homoerotic tension. But the central ship is now a guy and a girl. And it... stings a little extra, because in the story of svsss, the idea of assumptions about default (hetero)sexuality are such a central theme. A queer man has written a trashy, oversexed stallion novel where the hottest guy in the universe collects the hottest women like pokemon, and it sells so much better than the more personal stories he tried to write. He has to write this pandering trash to make money to live, he can't live on the more authentic stories he tried to tell before. The protagonist is the projection of his own insecurities and self-hate, and the protagonist's right hand man is his projection of his own ideal man. Another man transmigrates into the book, assuming that he himself is straight, assuming the protagonist is straight, and the force of their love changes the course of the entire narrative. In retrospect, it's upsetting to see those load-bearing themes casually carved out of the story and the hollowed-out remains used like this.
Anyways, in their place, now we've got running gags about how the heroine's tits are BIGHUGE now and she can't keep her balance because her GIANT HONKERS keep tipping her over.
I'm a little more bothered than I was yesterday! On the other hand, since I saw SRB's post, I've been chewing on that central ship. Full disclosure, it was one of my favorite aspects of the novel! My other favorite aspect is the dynamic between the golden cobra and the last hope (the moshang, which I think some people misdiagnosed as wangxian).
I know that the central ship here is the thing that's LEAST comparable to svsss, and the biggest roadblock in the way of my theory. On the other hand, I think it was the thing that HAD to change if this story was going to repurpose svsss without getting called out for being a classic 'bro can i copy your homework' adventure.
For this section, let's assume that I'm right and let's roleplay an author trying to figure out how to change Bingqiu into something not-obviously-Bingqiu. How do we need to differentiate Rae and Key from Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.
First, we eliminate the martial sect thing. Easy peasy! That's a wuxia concept, and this book goes full nondescript western fantasy. She's not his teacher, he's not her student. And if she's not his teacher and he's not her student, why does this woman have power over this man, to build up the resentment that inspires him to turn the tables on her later? Well, in nondescript western fantasy, she's a noblewoman of some kind, and he's a servant of some kind. Noble lady treats servant like garbage, servant resents her. Doing great.
And to loop back around to the beginning of this a little, I think it really is key to this reskinning that Rae is a SHE. If the central ship remained queer, it would be so, so hard to pull away from the most identifiable thematic aspects of svsss. And pieces of what remain are... kind of bizarre for a normie heterosexual ship where our protagonist is aware that she's transmigrated into an impossibly desirable sexpot character!
Shen Qingqiu never considers that Luo Binghe might be interested in him because Luo Binghe is about to have a HAREM of beautiful women, he's the most heterosexual man of all time, and Shen Qingqiu is straight too! Besides, Shen Qingqiu is his teacher! He half-raised Luo Binghe! Even if Luo Binghe was bent, he wouldn't be interested in an old man like Shen Qingqiu!
Rae is 20, occupying a 24-year-old body. Her character's sexiness is relentlessly remarked upon from start to finish. Key is 18. Why is Rae so sure that he looks up to her as... a mentor, as an older woman? He almost goes down on her! He makes out with her! And she's like 'ah yes, it means nothing. lol. so funny how these things happen.' Bruh, at least after Luo Binghe kissed Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu finally got hit with the clue stick. Binghe didn't try to blow him only for Shen Qingqiu to keep noodling on about how Binghe definitely isn't into him in any sense, even the most oblivious man in the universe managed to catch on.
Why doesn’t Rae think there’s any chance of genuine attraction here? Yeah, I get that she's coming back from terminal cancer. She's doing great. She knows that the fictional character she occupies is one of the most desirable ladies in the land. He’s a teenager. He’s not expressing disinterest. A lack of horny for sexy lady ought to be more surprising for her. But I guess she’s slightly older than him and that small age gap has been magnified by the transmigration, so she conceptualizes herself only as his teacher, I mean mentor.
I’m not even mad at this dynamic. I love their chemistry, the ‘boss’ thing is cute, but lordt, I have to wonder if it’s meant to substitute for ‘shizun.’ But you know where this comparison really falls apart? Key isn’t really THAT much Luo Binghe.
At least, he isn’t in terms of personality. I mean, we’ve got the mysterious magical heritage, the healing factor, the unbeatable fighting skills, being beaten repeatedly because of the protagonist (tbh it’s sexier when she’s responsible, rather than just being a bystander), being yeeted into the abyss, I mean the ravine, to rise again and assume power as the merciless ruler of all the land. Oh, and he comes back from the dead still bearing the scar that represents her betrayal. In the original novel, he turned on her the moment he got his opening and was responsible for coming up with her gruesome torment.
(Also, Shen Qingqiu being terminally ill isn’t canon, but it’s very popular fanon, and it’s hard to ignore that with how hard the narrative lingers over Rae’s terminal illness as her gateway into this fictional world)
But! But the things that are different! Luo Binghe is a smart and sweet teenager, who had a rough start on the streets and has a tragically deceased single adoptive parent, but that’s their only backstory parallel, he doesn’t blacken until he’s thrown into the abyss. Not like Key, Key is a murder-happy sociopath, a former street kid who fought the odds and made good, and who’s a lot sharper and cleverer than the upper classes think someone like him should be. He utterly destroyed a righteous cultivator clan, I mean glassblowing guild, for the sake of revenge. Once our heroine scores a number of trust points with him, we unlock secret backstory about how as a small child, he experienced deeply formative hand trauma.
He’s Xue Yang.
It took me a moment to process the wangxian allegations SRB mentions in her post, because I was trying to figure out how someone would be aware of wangxian, and read that backstory, and somehow miss it. But it’s fine, I’m pretty sure they were actually talking about the golden cobra and the last hope! So LET’S TALK MOSHANG.
It was so funny. I was liveblogging the book to friends, because honestly, I do not jive with the buffy-esque joss whedon relentless quip-quip-quip writing style. I was struggling to stay engaged when the narrative never took a moment to breathe. And I perked up at the introduction of this new character! He seemed kind of fun, kind of meta, Key came over to share Secret Info with him, and I messaged the friend who recced this to me (also an svsss appreciator) ‘lol, what if he’s shang qinghua. just straight from svsss shang qinghua.'
Reader, a second transmigrator has hit the narrative.
Now, in some ways, he’s a disappointment to me. He’s not nearly as interesting as Shang Qinghua. Adding the author to their own narrative is way more fascinating to me than just dropping a rando into the story. But I’ll take what I can get, I think multiple transmigrators are almost always a fun decision. And for the queer reasons I mentioned above, I think Shang Qinghua ties into the themes of his novel a lot more strongly than Eric does here. I don’t want to call him ‘the golden cobra’ every time, I get more self-conscious every time I write it. And honestly, the reveal of Eric’s full Eric Whatever name feels a little awkward and… pointed compared to the sheer opacity of Shang Qinghua’s existence. Never mind what his name was in the real world, we don’t even know his name before he was a Peak Lord. I’m not upset we got a name or anything, it would make certain fannish activities a lot easier if Shang Qinghua had additional canon names, but it was an interesting detail in light of how parallel the characters are.
Okay! He’s not the author! He’s still a super-fan. He transmigrated into the book years before the LLE main character, and has settled in pretty well. According to canon as Rae knows it, he’s fated to be killed by his own favorite character. He’s fast-thinking and fast-talking, and scattered and all over the place, but dangerous when cornered and more competent than he looks. He deals in information and manages a network of spies. He’s a creative! He and the main character banter relentlessly and get along like a house on fire. He and the king’s trusted ice-cold right hand man share a weird codependent dynamic that’s part hostile, part homoerotic.
Marius has complicated feelings about not-shang-qinghua. Eric is a coward, he’d rather talk fast and lie than stand up for anything, he cowers and cringes and isn’t honorable. He and Mobei-jun also shared a deeply formative experience in their youth, where as a teenager in distress, Eric/Shang Qinghua appeared before them and announced their devotion. In Shang Qinghua’s case, it was offering to serve him (and saving him from huan hua injuries), and in Eric’s case, it was declaring him to be his favorite character (and saving him from sad teenaged isolation), but man. And in the end, after a long, fraught relationship, Marius/Mobei-jun is furious and strangely distraught when Eric/Shang Qinghua abandons him.
Guys, it’s not wangxian.
I think it hits less hard when Marius’s themes of family violence aren’t allowed to sit directly in the narrative, and when it seems like some vague berserker rage thing rather than Linguang-jun just bluntly wanting to murder him for practical reasons, but hey! This was still, genuinely, one of my favorite parts of the story. I wanted more more more of them, I would read this moshang au any day.
After that, the parallels get a little more nebulous! The comparisons between the abyss and the ravine are pretty obvious. I’m not sure why we decided to build our city and palace right on top of the pit of people-eating ghouls rather than literally anywhere else, but it means we don’t need to take a special field trip to Jue Di Gorge, which means we can do the bait and switch where it turns out Key was a heavenly demon all along. The temperamental King Octavian, the young master of the palace, one might even say the xiao gongzhu if they were feeling spicy, jealously tries to romantically monopolize half our main ship and has the other half flogged with a magic whip.
I already mentioned that Rae brings up that Liu Mingyan — wait, I said I’d change some answers so it wasn’t obvious I copied — Lia doesn’t get a sex scene in the books even though loads of other people did, just like Shen Qingqiu praises Liu Mingyan for her untouchable image in such an oversexed, gratuitous book. I don’t think it would be right to call Liu Mingyan a white lotus heroine in either SVSSS or PIDW, but her archetype is in that wheelhouse, and Lia is just a white lotus rival played straight (and played deliberately, another touch I liked). We don’t have made up animals like black moon rhinoceros pythons in LLE, but we do have leucrotas, which are like a lion and a hyena and serve no narrative purpose.
Oh, you know what else I forgot to mention? Rae gives Key one of her red ruby earrings, and he refuses to sell it, and stubbornly holds onto it until the bitter end. Is this Xue Yang holding onto the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen gave him, or is it Hua Cheng determinedly keeping Xie Lian’s red coral earring with him even through his own death? Por que no los dos?
There are things that are original in here. I know that this presentation undersells how much of the book is original. The trouble is, almost everything I thought was good is something that either was lifted from another person’s creative endeavors, or is being tainted by association with all the other naked lifts. Some of the noble ladies have an archery contest! That’s pretty new and fresh, huh? We didn’t have any archery contests in SVSSS!
Yeah, but we sure did in MDZS. And MDZS is already in play, because we’ve already got one character who’s just copy and paste Xue Yang.
There’s a thermocline of trust in this book that fell off for me sharply, and it turned a lot of this into a guessing game of ‘wait NOW what the refrance? owo'
I’m probably on a hair trigger by now, but I’ve also probably missed some things. And I’m sure this is a synthesis of multiple influences, because most stories are. But this feels like cooking and trying to season your dish with a little salt and then the container lid just falls off.
Emer isn’t a clear parallel to an existing character! Love that for her! Love a lady with an axe, especially if she gets a nice girlfriend! On the other hand, in terms of backstory? Wow, she’s been raised with our protagonist since early childhood, as not-quite-foster-siblings, but she was always the clear unfavorite and harbors a lot of resentment over that. Oh, and once Rae entered the story, Rae started trying to speedrun an enemies to 'hello hiiii we should bestiessss' arc with her. I think she had to have an axe, because a whip or a sword would make the Jiang Cheng and/or Liu Qingge vibes a little uncomfortably strong. She doesn’t follow their character arcs! But the disappointing thing is that it felt like she was just there to facilitate pasting the frankenstein patchwork of the narrative together rather than having an arc of her own.
(why did Marius stop to give her a sword lesson? Why did she immediately sneak onto the roof to eavesdrop on the king?? It’s hard to give her credit for being an original character when none of her original actions make sense in the greater universe)
Oh, I almost forgot, we’ve even got magic plot macguffin plants. While Binghe is in the abyss, Shen Qingqiu needs to get the Sun And Moon Dew Flower Seed so he can build an escape hatch for himself before Binghe wrecks his shit. Rae, on the other hand, needs to secure the Flower of Life and Death by an arbitrary deadline as an escape hatch so she can go back to her original life rather than being trapped here forever. Very different! There’s even little side tangents about how these plants can be so beneficial to others, Zhuzhi-lang is desperately trying to secure a seed to build a new body for Tianlang-jun (which Shen Qingqiu enables him to do, despite not knowing what he wants it for), and Rae thinks about how the flower could “save someone on the very doorstep of death,” and gives it away for that exact purpose. So different!
I need to cut myself off, otherwise I’ll keep going. Truly, there is original content in here. It was just all the stuff I didn’t like. The character quipping was. God. There sure was a lot of it! By sheer volume, that’s a lot of original content. Some of the extended cast was interesting, I enjoyed the Horrors and their brothers, I liked Valencia. Now, I didn’t like how basically every girl ADULT WOMAN in this cast was in shitty teen mean girl mode. I didn’t like how immature every character interaction period was. I lost track of how many times Rae was going around in sexy clothes and rando servants were like “HARLOT,” out loud about a favored noblewoman, you know, as you do. Especially when her bodyguard is pulling against his choke chain just waiting for an excuse to do a murder. I don’t need Rae to be the picture of flawless maturity. But nobody is mature, full stop, not even the set dressing servants.
For a less loaded example, the cumplane friendship dynamic is here, practically intact. Shen Qingqiu can't snipe about authorial choices, because Eric isn't the author, so instead Rae and Eric squabble about favorite scenes and favorite ships and such. But it isn't nearly as charming when we don't see these two characters dropping their dignified Peak Lord cultivator roleplay to talk shit with each other. Rae and Eric never have a filter once in this book. They are always Like This, it isn't a secret face that gets unlocked when they're bouncing off each other, they are never circumspect, never have a filter, never have any idea they shouldn't be speaking their full thoughts at full volume 24/7. Even after this starts to have material consequences when they're inevitably overheard! It's an immersion-breaking level of immaturity, which is terribly frustrating when the original dynamic that I loved is only changed in such minor ways.
And another thing that actually tastes way more sour than it did on first reading – Valencia is probably the least mean girl of all the women in the cast. She’s delightful. Too bad that in every scene but her last one, Rae, who repeatedly references her own experiences having her body and appearance ravaged by cancer, cannot for love or money stop talking about how uggo Valencia is.
I know this is an adult novel. The characters are, by age, adults. There’s almost an oral scene. God, I wish we’d gotten the oral scene. But by every other metric, the characters are all high schoolers and I’m an exhausted adult muttering to myself ‘they’ll grow out of it, please GOD let them grow out of it.’
Again, none of this is a crime! Nobody forced me to finish the book! And I did enjoy the book. Parts of it! But that very distinct partial enjoyment experience almost forced me to dissect my own emotional response. And truly, other than a few flashes like Valencia, almost everything I enjoyed about the book was something I could trace directly back to one author, and mostly to one book by that one author. I… enjoyed half of the book. And if I can track most of that half back to mxtx and svsss, I really think that says something about how much wasn’t done to make the inspiration behind this book the author’s own.
It's disappointing! I read this book because I like svsss, I read it because I want more books like svsss, I read it because I trawl the novelupdates tags looking for more books that will hit me the way svsss did. It doesn’t taste good to be served reheated svsss with expired buffy sauce drizzled on top. It tastes even less good once I have a minute to think about what turning an m/m meditation on sexuality and self-image and assumptions about others into a m/f snooze does to the themes I loved so much. It stings to see an author rehash a book that was/is so important to me, and see what they kept and what they threw out, and be like ‘oh, so… these were the elements that mattered to you?’
Again, I hate to be redundant with this, but. I think calling this book plagiarism would be overdoing it. I think it’s tasteless. I don’t think being tasteless is a crime. It remains wild to me that she’s getting messages calling out her supposed inspiration, even if I’m simultaneously criticizing the judgment of the people making those specific comparisons. And I ABSOLUTELY understand why she’s reluctant to own up to the specific inspirations behind this book, because good lord. If it was me, I’d be professionally embarrassed too.
It’s not my job to be the book quality police, but I think someone as experienced as this should be able to do a better job of synthesizing inspirations into something original. I dropped ‘can’t afford to offend my scheming disciple’ earlier this year, because that narrative couldn’t shake the taste of stale svsss fanfic, and it was much more subtle than this is. Once again, if I’m wrong, this post will be retroactively VERY funny and I’ll be all ears to see what her inspirations actually were. I don’t think I’m wrong.
#long live evil#long post#svsss#the scum villain's self saving system#imagine if i put all these words into more productive endeavors! crazy!
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