#GODDAMN IT WITH EMMA STONE i get it
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Sorry to report I adored poor Things
#cherry says#GODDAMN IT WITH EMMA STONE i get it#i think its because i see myself in somebody sheltered alone in the world seeking life and fearing it#the journey of it becomes a circle#wonderful. wish there was actual surrealism in it rather than absurdism with a plot#the feminism in this is not actually as offensive as some claim i just dont think those views are in line#of viewing sex workers as people#anyways MARGARET QUALLEY AND RAMY YOUSEFF i love Frankenstein
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Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 5

Russell Shaw x reader
Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.
Warnings: description and mention of murder, language, absolutely cliché cliffhanger
A/N: Hey, lovely moots! Just a heads-up that things are about to get a little hectic on my end with writing my MA thesis and juggling work over the next few weeks, so there might be a slight delay in the next chapter. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding & most importantly for loving this story so far. Hope you enjoy the read in the meantime! 🤍
Catch up on Chapter 4 here
Tuesday’s Gone masterlist
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Previously:
With Emma snug in your arms and a renewed sense of determination, you stepped into the night together.
For a second, the three of you standing there almost looked like some offbeat family photo… bittersweet, and about as far from normal as it gets.
But the moment you took in your surroundings, you felt a chill sensation. This sure as hell didn’t look like Idaho Falls. Nor the rundown warehouse you’d started in.
You had no idea where you were.
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You tightened your grip on Emma, feeling the weight of her small body pressing into you like an anchor. And you undoubtedly needed that goddamn anchor then and there. Wherever there was.
She looked up at you with wide, tired and weary eyes, sensing the danger but too young to understand the why of it all. She was still shivering from being held hostage in a — what exactly? You turned around to take a glance at the building you and Emma were taken to. It was some sort of a fort-looking, massive, brutalist building. The unpainted concrete walls and the defined, sharp edges just gave the already eerie atmosphere another layer of creepiness.
Russell also took a look at the building, but his mind was occupied with finding something — anything, really, that indicated where they were.
He scanned the empty streets. The whole place looked deserted and industrial. Old factory buildings with busted-out windows, a chain-link fence rusting along the perimeter, and no signs of life except for a stray cat slinking through the shadows.
This is what The Rolling Stones was singing about in Living In A Ghost Town, he thought.
Russell glanced around, brow furrowed.
“This… doesn’t look good” he muttered, looking like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube with one hand tied behind his back.
“No kidding” you shot back, keeping your tone as light as you could manage for Emma’s sake, but your heart was thumping like a jackhammer. You were about three seconds away from a nervous breakdown — which, at this point, would probably be your hundredth. “So, genius… what’s the plan?”
Russell glanced at you, clearly trying to keep it together, but the frustration in his voice was impossible to miss. “I’m trying to come up with one. But I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.”
“There wasn’t any part of this I liked in the first place!” you grumbled.
Just then, a low rumble echoed from somewhere in the distance, a car engine revving up, headlights slicing through the dark. At the sound of voices barked orders, “Get ‘em!” and “Don’t fucking let them get away!”, Russell muttered a curse under his breath, pulling you both back into the shadows.
You flattened yourself against the cold wall, clutching Emma close. The car’s headlights swept across the cracked pavement, illuminating the scene for a heartbeat before the light passed, leaving you in the cover of darkness again. You held your breath, listening as the car slowed, idling nearby.
Russell’s eyes met yours, a silent message passing between you. You could almost hear his thoughts screaming This wasn’t part any of the plans I came up with.
The car's engine finally faded, and Russell took a slow, perfectly controlled breath. Huh. “Alright” he whispered. “Follow me. We stick to the backstreets, stay low, and pray they don’t have the whole damn town locked down.”
You raised an eyebrow, attempting a dry smile despite the tension. “So, no master plan, just hope for the best? Excellent.”
His lips twitched, a hint of his usual smirk breaking through. “Welcome to my life.”
With that, he led the way down the alley, sticking close to the wall and guiding you through the maze of abandoned buildings. Emma clung to you, her little fingers curled into your shirt with a force that no four-year-old should bear, and you stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t sure you even believed yourself.
And honestly, you weren’t sure who needed the comfort more, her or you.
A few blocks down, you came across an old diner with a busted sign hanging above. It looked deserted. Perfect. Russell motioned for you to duck inside, the three of you slipping into the dimly lit space, huddling behind an overturned booth.
Russell scanned the room. “We’ll wait here for a few minutes. I need to come up with a plan.”
You nodded, settling Emma down and trying to keep your own nerves in check. It was just the three of you now, in a dusty, forgotten diner on the edge of nowhere, hiding from a nightmare that had yet to let you go. As you leaned back against the booth, you glanced at Russell, whose eyes were still scanning the room, like he could will a plan into existence if he stared hard enough. “So, any ideas on where exactly we are?”
He shrugged, offering a look that was almost... endearing in its hopelessness. “Somewhere... not Idaho Falls?”
You couldn’t help it. A low, incredulous laugh slipped out of your lips. “Well, thanks, Sherlock. That really narrows it down.”
“We’re far from home?” Emma's voice cut through the hushed tension.
You froze as you looked at her wide, curious and somewhat nervous eyes.
“Yes, we are” Russell said before you could answer. Your eyes snapped at his face with a questioning expression, then he continued “… because we are on a little adventure.”
You shot him a look. Adventure? Was that what we were calling it now? Maybe you’d missed the part where your life turned into a bad action movie. But you just kept quiet. No point in crushing the adventure vibe. And you had no better idea how to explain it to her without mounting the trauma of the situation to her.
Emma turned to him as he spoke and after a moment of silence, her little voice hit his ears. “Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at Russell.
Russell blinked back, like she’d just asked him how to solve world hunger in the span of five minutes. He’d only met her about an hour ago, and now this. The million-dollar question.
Your dad, his mind screamed, but his mouth rather formed the following sentence.
“Uh, I’m a friend of your mom’s” he said, flashing her a smile that wasn’t exactly convincing. The truth was right there, hanging in the air like a bad smell, but neither of you were about to air it out yet. Not now, and definitely not here. "My name's Russell."
Emma didn’t seem to notice the weirdness, though. She just nodded like that made sense. And you? You were still stuck on the fact that your life had turned into a poorly scripted Bruce Willis-movie.
Emma tilted her head while her expression turned adorably thoughtful. “You’re hairy. Like grandpa.”
Russell chuckled as he ran a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s my pirate look.”
Her eyes lit up at the word pirate. “Are you a pirate?! Can I be one, too?”
“Absolutely” he replied. “But we have to be sneaky pirates, okay? No one can know we’re here.”
Your heart did a little flip at the sight. The way he talked to your daughter. His daughter. His voice was surprisingly soft and sweet, even in this situation. Emma’s reaction wasn’t a shock, though. She had a habit of linking beards (like the one your dad rocked) with safety and familiar love.
“Okay!” Emma nodded so seriously it was like she’d just signed up for a full-on treasure hunt. “What’s our treasure?” she asked, her little brain clearly putting the pieces together. If we’re on an adventure, we must be looking for something, right?
Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Finding you is the biggest treasure there is” he said, throwing you a quick look that somehow managed to be both warm and determined. “Your mom was worried sick about you.”
Emma’s serious face melted into a grin, giggling like she’d just figured out the punchline of a joke she didn’t even know she was in. “I’m a treasure!”
Russell couldn’t help but smile back, watching her with something a little different in his eyes now. There was something about this brave little girl that made him feel a little less lost in the middle of all this chaos.
Just then, the sound of tires screeching echoed from down the street, and he stiffened, pulling you both deeper into the shadows, close to his chest.
"We need to move” Russell said, his voice sharp with urgency. The fact that he still didn’t have a solid plan didn’t seem to slow him down. Without warning, he scooped Emma up into his arms, his eyes softening just a fraction as he did. “We’ll move faster this way, pirate” he added, his lips twitching into a grin. “Just stay quiet, little treasure hunter, ‘kay?”
Emma blinked at him, clearly processing this new development like she was on the set of some kind of action flick. But after a beat, she nodded, her little hands clutching his shirt like she was ready to face whatever was next.
This whole scene was surprising. She seemed to like him already — and that was backed by the way she smiled back at you from his arms.
You could hardly believe your eyes.
In the midst of a kidnapping, Russell somehow made her forget the fear and pain of the past few days, if only for a moment.
Russell gave her a quick wink before looking back at you. The plan might still be nonexistent, but at least someone was acting like they had it together.
With Emma snug in his arms, Russell headed out quietly, leading you through the maze of shadows and concrete buildings. The screeching tires faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic pounding of your heart that you could feel in your eardrums.
“Alright, pirate crew” Russell whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings like he was already in full-on mission mode. And he probably was. “We need an escape route. And I need your sharp eyes on lookout, got it? Keep ‘em peeled for any bad guys.”
“Bad guys?” she echoed, looking around, wide-eyed. “Are they gonna hurt us?”
Russell shook his head, grinning. “Not a chance. We’re pirates, remember? We’ll outsmart them easily. Right, captain?”
Emma giggled, playing along like she was born for this. And you had to hand it to him — Russell knew exactly what he was doing. Using the pirate game to sneak his way in, to worm his way through to your daughter. You hated to admit it, but... yeah, it was working.
“Alright, crew, any bright ideas?” you whispered, forcing as much lightness into your tone as you could muster for Emma’s sake.
But before anyone could answer, you heard it—tires screeching, closer this time, much too close. The sound scraped at your nerves, a noise that would probably haunt your nightmares for weeks. If your survive it, that is. Your heart skipped a beat as headlights sliced through the dark, illuminating everything for a split second before they vanished again.
"Shi—“ you muttered, but quickly bit the end as you glanced at your daughter.
Russell’s face hardened, the easy smile he’d been wearing slipping away. "Stay down, stay quiet. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
Emma clutched at his shirt. “What’s happening?”
Russell’s jaw tightened, and for a second, you could have sworn you saw actual fear in his eyes. Like he knew something bad was about to happen. Something fatal.
“We’re playing a new game now, treasure hunter. It’s called ‘hide and don’t get caught'” he said, his eyes darting around, until they landed on a massive tree surrounded by some half-crushed rocks.
And just like that, he got the plan.
Without wasting another second, Russell shoved Emma back into your arms, nudging you both behind the tree. You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes was all the explanation you needed. There was no room for negotiation. This wasn’t just another close call; he was done running.
“Stay here” he whispered. “… and whatever you hear… don’t come out” he added. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, like he was taking in all of your little features; the way your hair framed your face, the slight tremor in your shoulders, your lashes looking slightly vet from fear. You looked like you’d been through a storm, and honestly, you had. But to him, standing there, you and Emma were worth every bruise, every risk.
With one last look, he turned, placing himself between you and the approaching threats.
You barely had time to register anything before you heard a car door creak open. You couldn’t see a thing from your hiding spot, but you didn’t need to. You knew exactly who it was. Rourke, or one of his Horizon lackeys. And Russell? He was still out there. With only a single gun and that damn stubborn fire in his eyes (that you somehow always adored).
It was insane. He was insane.
Your pulse raced, heart hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself further into the shadows, praying Russell had a plan. Or, at the very least, that his unshakable confidence wouldn’t get him killed. You could hear the shuffle of boots approaching, slow and controlled.
You held Emma close, her small fingers tightening around you as she buried her face against your shoulder. You stroked her back gently, whispering, “Shh… we’re just playing hide and seek, yeah?" you asked, echoing Russell's words from earlier. "Can you… can you stay quiet for me?”
Her fearful eyes were shiny from unshed tears, but she nodded. The guilt hit you like a punch to the gut. God, you’d never felt more of a failure as a mom than in that moment. You were supposed to keep her safe, to protect her, not drag her into this mess.
Outside, Russell didn’t flinch as the footsteps drew closer, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to move. You could only listen, heart hammering, hoping he had some kind of plan up his sleeve because this wasn’t a fight he could take on alone.
“Come on, Shaw” a voice called from the shadows, the kind of voice that made you want to punch something. Rourke. Of course. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and just plain out of luck. Come back to us… and maybe we’ll consider not wiping out your adorable little family."
Russell’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he took a step closer to the darkened street. He didn’t raise his voice, but the steel in his tone was unmistakable. “You touch one hair on their heads, and you’ll regret it, Rourke.”
Rourke chuckled with a sound so smug, it almost made you physically ill. “You know, Shaw, I thought you were smarter than this. Putting your life on the line... and for what? You can’t win here.”
Russell didn’t waver, his voice low and steady. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s worth fighting for.”
“Oh, I think I do” Rourke sneered, taking another step closer, his figure shifting in the moonlight. “I know weakness when I see it. I see it every time I look at you.”
A beat of silence. It was deafening.
“And I see a coward” Russell finally replied. “Hiding behind hired thugs, preying on those who can’t fight back. Real tough guy... That's what you enjoy, huh? That's the reason for that little side hustle of yours?" he asked. "Does Morello still have no clue about it?"
Morello? Side hustle? What was Russell playing at?
Rourke’s smug grin faltered, but only for a second. “You talk a big game, Shaw. Let’s see if you back it up.” He motioned to his men, weapons glinting faintly. Russell mirrored their actions.
You couldn't see anything, but the sounds were lound and clear. You’ve never felt this scared in your life. Ever.
From your hidden spot behind the tree, you felt Emma’s little arms clutch you tighter, sensing the danger. Your heart pounded as you watched Russell’s shadow standing alone, facing them all down.
Then Rourke took one last step forward. “Final offer, Shaw” his voice creaked with menace. “Come with us, and maybe, just maybe, your bitch and offspring stay intact.”
Russell’s grip on his gun tightened. “Big words for a guy who needs an entourage to feel important” he shot back. “But I’ll pass on the offer, thanks.”
Rourke’s face twisted, anger finally replacing his smirk. “Fine,” he spat. “You want to play hero, Shaw? Then let’s see if you survive it.”
And then, without warning, bang. The most terrifying gunshot sound you’ve ever experienced.
Not that you’ve never heard a gunshot before. It wasn’t necessarily the sound you found terrifying… but rather the silence that followed, and the uncertainty of who was at the receiving end.
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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 6):
“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too.”
His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”
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I know, such a cliché and terrible cliffhanger. But what can I say? Don’t fix what’s not broken.
Read Chapter 6 here
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#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw x you#tracker cbs#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles#russell shaw#tracker fanfiction
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This scene, from House of X #3, fascinates me. It's basically the first substantial scene that we see between Scott and Xavier since Xavier died by Dark Phoenix fuckery.
(There's actually a quick scene about the mission in Powers of X before this, but it doesn't really get into much beyond "this is what we need you to do" Aside from a really interesting visual parallel to a Scott and Illyana scene much later, there's not much to it.)
But there's a LOT here. (I'm going to put this behind a cut tag, because it is LONG.)
I mean, on one hand, it's almost sweet. We have an Xavier who is openly calling Scott his son, who is offering comforting reassurance to his fear.
On the other hand, Scott didn't ask for this reassurance, did he? He's afraid, but he's putting on "a brave face". Something pretty standard for the kind of soldier Scott's always been. And Xavier calls him out, puts him on the defensive, and gently applies the pressure. "What matters is that you overcome it -- and you do so for your family."
It's not clear to me exactly when resurrection becomes known on Krakoa. It seems implied that the deaths on the Master Mold mission (the one Scott's going to embark on, in which there will be no survivors) are the first public resurrections at least. Scott SEEMS to believe that death is a real option here. And they carefully keep their reassurance very metaphorical. Immortality in memory, not in fact.
There's something interesting to me about how Krakoa is set up. Because Scott is NOT on the Council. And it seems like he'd be an obvious choice to be up there, right? Certainly other characters have commented on it, periodically throughout arc. Both Forge and Emma have said things that implied they thought he was kind of shirking a duty by not being there.
There's this ever present idea too, of the Summers family as a kind of "Krakoan Royalty". It's why Abigail Brand puts teen Cable on SWORD, figuring that he lacks any real experience or influence, but as a means to manipulate his parents. Gabriel's manipulated with the idea of said royalty on Arakko. It seems to mean something.
But WHY? At this point, Scott is either the Captain Commander of Krakoa - a field general role expressly subordinate to the Council, or the leader of the X-Men, which have asserted some independence, but are primarily Earth based and have no role in governing anything Krakoan.
They may mean Jean, since she was on the Council and is certainly powerful enough to be terrifying. But that's not really the impression I get.
There is a point where we see Scott specifically offered a seat on the Council. That's just after X of Swords, when Scott and Jean have their slight bloodless coup and basically reform the X-Men.
(X-Men #16)
The funny thing about this is that I don't get the sense that they'd ever offered Scott a seat before. And again, that seems surprising. For better or worse, Scott's was the head of the entire mutant race at one point. And even after his fall from grace, his time as a mutant revolutionary, he was still bizarrely influential. There was a Rolling Stone cover, remember?
(And isn't it kind of fascinating how this version of Cerebro rather looks like a blue, metallic version of Scott's post AvX mask?)
It's only now, once Scott and Jean have enacted their own bloodless coup to reform the X-Men and rescue their son and friends, that Scott's asked.
But I could be wrong. Maybe Scott WAS asked. But if so, there's a very obvious reason why Scott wouldn't have taken it.
Mister Sinister is on the goddamn Council. There is no fucking way that Scott would ever, I believe, be able to sit on a Council across from Mister Sinister. And there's no way that Xavier wouldn't have known that.
On some level, Charles Xavier chose Mister Sinister over Scott Summers, and while I don't think this is the literal cause of the fall of Krakoa, I think the fact that he COULD make this choice was an indicator of the failings that doomed them all.
It will forever frustrate me that, as far as I know, we never actually see the reunion of a resurrected Charles Xavier with the son who, under the influence of the Dark Phoenix, killed him.
But I do remember one part of that scene:
(Avengers vs. X-Men #11)
And I start thinking again about how, in Krakoa, Xavier is very open, very content to call him his son.
A prince, an heir, but not a rival or an equal. The man who cast Xavier out from the X-Men, twice. The benign dictator of Utopia. The face of the Mutant Revolution. Xavier has made sure that this won't happen again.
It's interesting though, especially light of the From the Ashes Infinity Comic that digs into Xavier's motivations for his actions during Fall of the House of X.
And there are a few bits that stand out:
So this little story arc establishes a few important things.
a) Xavier didn't actually kill the crew of the ship, he had them replaced with mindless drones made by Sinister.
b) Xavier planted clues based on Arthurian Legend, specifically hoping SCOTT would find it and understand.
c) And Xavier has been pretty active in telepathically influencing other people away from conclusions he doesn't want them to draw. But he can't be really subtle - it causes a nosebleed.
And it's fascinating, I think, that Warren gets a nosebleed HERE. When he thinks about Xavier's role in Krakoa. And then he thinks of Scott's.
Later, Xavier will explain to Sally that he chose his actions because of Scott's trial. And I find myself wondering, is it because Scott's in danger of death (which would be funny as Xavier actually ends up sabotaging their best hope of rescuing Scott by calling Rasputin IV to him, WHILE they were in place to extract him, so she can serve his purposes instead). Or is it because, scapegoat and target or not, Scott Summers has suddenly become the face of Krakoa after all.
But now, Xavier's "the Butcher of Krakoa."
In AvX, before the Phoenix Five start fraying at the edges, Scott challenges Xavier, suggesting that part of the reason he has a problem with what they've done is because Scott did it. Not Xavier.
I think maybe there's some truth to that. And it will be very interesting how much, if anything, gets addressed in Raid on Graymalkin.
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Inheritance of Love│Han Jisung
Chapter Seven: It's A Goddamn Empire Word Count: 5.3K Content Warnings: Family Pressure and Judgment, Microaggressions, judgement for being American, Han Ji-ah is her own warning for pretty much the whole book
Previous Next Masterlist
Minho's purple sports car roars down the road, the engine growling with a feral intensity that turns heads as they blur past. His hands grip the wheel with the casual confidence of someone who thinks traffic laws are merely suggestions. Emma sits in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, though it's mostly to keep herself from staring at how fast the scenery is whipping by.
"Goddamn, Jisung better marry you after this," Minho says, his voice cutting through the pounding bass of the music. He glances at Emma, his beret slightly askew, his purple silk shirt catching the faint streetlights. "You're willingly walking into the Han family fortress. That's commitment."
Emma snorts, locking her phone and setting it in her lap. "You're acting like I'm about to face a firing squad."
Minho overtakes a slow-moving sedan with a sharp swerve, grinning as the driver honks angrily behind them. "I mean, metaphorically? You kind of are. Have you seen these people in magazines? They're not just rich. They're fuck-you rich. If they wanted to buy a small country, they'd probably get a bulk discount."
Emma glances at him, laughing despite herself. "Thanks for the pep talk. Really calming my nerves here."
"That's what I'm here for," Minho says smugly, revving the engine unnecessarily as they hit a stretch of open road. The car surges forward, and Emma instinctively grabs the door handle. "Oh, and you're welcome for the ride. Let's not forget who's getting you to this dinner in style."
"Style?" Emma asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're driving like we're in Fast & Furious."
"And yet, here you are, alive and thriving," Minho quips, taking a sharp turn onto a private road. The tyres screech slightly, leaving faint black marks on the otherwise pristine pavement.
The surroundings shift dramatically. Towering trees line the road, their branches arching overhead like a natural cathedral. Perfectly trimmed hedges flank the path, and the faint scent of blooming flowers drifts in through the open windows.
Minho lets out a low whistle, his eyes darting to the towering stone walls that come into view. "Holy shit. They've got a private road and a fortress? These people don't just have money, they've got a backup apocalypse plan."
Emma cranes her neck, taking in the massive wrought-iron gates ahead. Gold filigree gleams in the car's headlights, the intricate design spelling out Han. Two guards stand at attention, both clad in black suits that look more tailored than anything in Minho's closet. One of them carries an earpiece, the other a rifle that's impossible to ignore.
Minho slows the car, muttering under his breath. "Okay, no one told me there'd be guns. What the fuck, Emma?"
Emma rolls her eyes, leaning across the console to peer out the window. "Relax. They're just security. I think"
Minho lowers the window an inch, his smile overly polite. "Good evening, gentlemen! Lovely night, isn't it?"
The guard nearest to them doesn't crack a smile, his voice clipped. "State your business."
Emma leans forward, her voice calm but firm. "Choi Emma. I'm here for the Han family dinner. Han Jisung invited me."
The guard looks at her, his expression unreadable. He steps back, murmuring into his earpiece. The other guard moves closer to Minho's side of the car, peering in like he's evaluating whether Minho is a credible human being.
Minho leans back in his seat, muttering out of the corner of his mouth. "If they ask me to get out, I'm throwing you under the bus."
Emma gives him a sharp look. "Thanks, Min. Really heroic of you."
The first guard gestures for the gate to open, and the massive iron structure swings inward with eerie smoothness. "Proceed," he says curtly.
Minho exhales loudly, easing the car forward. "Well, that was fucking terrifying. I'm not wearing the right underwear for this level of stress."
Emma smiles, sitting back as they pass through the gates. "You're not the one meeting a potential future halmeoni."
The long driveway is lined with floodlit flowerbeds, each bloom looking like it's been arranged by an artist. Manicured lawns stretch endlessly on either side, interrupted only by statues that seem to appear out of nowhere in the shadows. They round a curve, and suddenly, the mansion comes into view.
Emma sucks in a breath. It's not just a house, it's a palace. The massive structure sprawls across the estate, its wings stretching so far she wonders if they'll need a map just to navigate dinner. Marble pillars rise from the ground like they're holding up the heavens, and grand staircases lead to double doors so large they could swallow Minho's car whole.
Minho stops the car at the circular driveway, both of them staring in stunned silence as the fountain in the centre sprays water high into the air. The entire scene is lit dramatically, the lights casting long shadows that only enhance the overwhelming opulence.
"Holy fuck," Minho finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't a house. It's... it's a goddamn empire."
Emma swallows hard, gripping her phone tightly. "What the hell did I just get myself into?"
Minho leans back, shaking his head. "I'll tell you what you got into. A rom-com where you're the clueless girl and Jisung's secretly the heir to an evil corporation. If someone starts playing a dramatic piano piece, I'm leaving."
Emma lets out a nervous laugh, her heart pounding. "Thanks for the support."
Minho grins, his hand resting on the gearshift. "Hey, at least you look hot as fuck. Let's go wow some rich assholes."
The towering doors of the Han family mansion swing open, revealing two doormen dressed in crisp black suits. Their movements are synchronized, almost theatrical.
Jisung steps out onto the grand front steps, clad in an all-white suit that fits him like a glove, the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the light. His hair is perfectly styled, the loose waves giving him an effortless charm. He grins as his eyes land on Emma, still sitting in the passenger seat of Minho's purple sports car.
"Damn, Emma," Minho mutters, his gaze fixed on Jisung. "He's like the fucking Asian Bachelor."
Emma giggles, nudging Minho lightly with her elbow. "Stop it."
Jisung strides down the steps and opens the car door for Emma, offering his hand. His grin softens as he takes in her appearance. "You look gorgeous," he says, his voice warm. "I think I've just fallen in love with you all over again."
Emma smiles, her cheeks flushing lightly as she places her hand in his and steps out of the car. The gold stilettos catch the light as her dress flows gracefully around her. Jisung leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, and she melts into him, her hand resting on his chest.
Inside the car, Minho starts drumming his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. He clears his throat. Then he coughs. Then he says, "Emma!" in the middle of the cough.
Emma, still smiling at Jisung, doesn't seem to hear him so Minho tries again, louder this time. "Psst! Emma!"
Finally, Emma glances back toward the car, blinking in realization. "Oh! Jisung, meet Minho."
Jisung bends slightly to peer into the car, offering a polite smile. "Hey there."
Minho tips his head in greeting. "Howdy!"
"Thank you very much for bringing Emma," Jisung says sincerely.
"Ah, no worries," Minho replies, waving a hand dismissively.
Jisung straightens, stepping back. "Would you like to stop by for some dinner?"
Minho's hand freezes mid-air. "Oh, no, I couldn't impose."
"It's not a problem," Jisung insists.
Minho hesitates, glancing between the mansion and Emma, who is now giggling softly. "I, uh, had some dinner plans..."
"Seriously, we have more than enough food," Jisung says, his tone as warm as ever.
Minho sits up straighter, his face lighting up. "Yeah, I'll fucking come to dinner." He practically throws himself out of the car, smoothing his shirt as he stands.
Jisung chuckles, turning back to Emma. "How was your day?"
Emma laughs softly. "Minho's namdongsaeng confessed his love at lunch and took pictures of me."
Jisung raises an eyebrow, laughing as he presses a kiss to Emma's head. "You're too pretty for your own good."
Meanwhile, Minho pops the trunk of his car and pulls out a garment bag labelled Cocktail Party. He slings it over his shoulder and grabs a polished pair of dress shoes.
Emma stares at him, eyebrows raised. "You have outfits in your trunk?"
Minho looks at her, mock-offended. "I'm not an animal, Emma." He hands his keys to the valet before falling into step beside them.
As the trio begins their walk toward the house, Minho glances around, taking in every detail of the sprawling estate. "Damn," he mutters, shaking his head. "It just keeps getting better with every step. You lucky bitch, Emma, snagging this fucking man."
As they pass the gardens, Emma's steps falter, her heels clicking softly against the cobblestone path. Her eyes widen at the sheer number of people mingling under the glow of softly glowing lanterns strung through the trees, which are trimmed so perfectly it's borderline unsettling.
Servers glide through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes balanced on gloved hands, their movements so smooth they might as well be part of the decor. The gentle hum of conversation weaves together with the clinking of glasses and the occasional laugh, creating an atmosphere of effortless luxury.
Emma tightens her grip on Jisung's hand, leaning closer to him. "This was supposed to be a family thing," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the din.
Jisung glances at her, his grin soft but amused. "It was. Then my halmeoni's tan huas decided to bloom."
"Tan huas?" Emma asks, tilting her head.
"They're night-blooming flowers. Rare as hell, and they only bloom at night. It's, like, a whole cultural thing. Super symbolic. My halmeoni treats them like they're royalty or some shit. Apparently, it's good luck, so she invited... this." He gestures toward the crowd with a slight shrug, his tone light but tinged with resignation. "This is what happens when you're part of the Han family."
Emma looks back at the elegantly dressed crowd, her nerves buzzing louder than ever. "Right. Because of course, flowers bring an entire gala with them."
Jisung chuckles softly, squeezing her hand. "You'll be fine. They're just people. Most of them rich, entitled people, but still just people. And I'll be right here."
Emma exhales, glancing back at the crowd before nodding. "Alright. Let's do this."
They step through the towering double doors into the mansion, with Minho trailing just behind. The interior is somehow even more extravagant than the exterior. The ceilings stretch impossibly high, painted with intricate green and gold details that swirl together like a Renaissance masterpiece.
Enormous marble pillars flank a sweeping staircase that spirals upward, and the walls gleam with the faintest hint of gold leaf. From a corner of the room, a jazz band plays a sultry melody, the singer's smooth voice drifting through the air like smoke.
"Holy fuck," Minho breathes from behind them, his voice barely more than a whisper. "This isn't a house. It's a fucking temple of excess."
Emma can't help but laugh softly, still taking in the scene. "It's like something out of a historical drama. Except real."
Jisung glances back at Minho, his expression amused. "Upstairs. The good bathrooms are up there if you want to get changed."
Minho's face lights up like Christmas morning. "Thank God. I was not about to try fixing my outfit in some peasant-level guest bathroom." He hoists his garment bag dramatically and strides toward the stairs, his polished shoes clicking purposefully against the marble.
Halfway up, Minho pauses, pulling out his phone. Emma and Jisung stop to watch as he angles himself toward the light, snapping selfies with a series of exaggerated poses. In one, he pouts dramatically; in another, he flips his garment bag over his shoulder like he's starring in an ad for luxury luggage.
Emma lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "He's unbelievable."
Jisung smirks, crossing his arms as he watches Minho strike another pose. "Does he ever stop?"
"Not for long," Emma says, grinning. "But I kind of love that about him."
As Minho disappears into the upper halls, Emma turns her attention back to Jisung. "When you told me you grew up in your halmeoni's house, I was picturing something a little more... human-sized."
Jisung shrugs, his tone nonchalant but tinged with humour. "It's about two hundred million in real estate."
Emma freezes mid-step, staring at him. "Two. Hundred. Million?"
"Give or take," Jisung says with a casual wave of his hand, as though he's talking about the price of a decent pair of shoes. "You'll get used to it."
Emma blinks at him, incredulous. "No. No, I absolutely will not."
Jisung's laughter is warm and easy as he leans down to press a quick kiss to her temple. "That's why I love you, you keep me humble."
Emma rolls her eyes but smiles despite herself. "Yeah, humble. Sure."
Jisung takes Emma's hand, his fingers warm against hers, as they weave through the gilded hallways of the Han mansion. His grin is lopsided, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of nervous energy she can feel in his grip. "Come on," he says softly, leaning closer so only she can hear. "I'm going to introduce you to my eomma."
Emma's steps falter slightly, and a mischievous glint sparks in her eyes. "What if I just... faint right here? Dramatic swoon, into your arms. Think she'd buy it?"
Jisung snorts, shaking his head. "Don't do this to me, jagiya. I've got enough stress without you pulling a Regency-era stunt."
Emma sighs, her tone overly dramatic. "Fine. I'll behave. But you owe me dessert for this."
"I'll buy you the whole cake," Jisung promises, tugging her gently toward the kitchens.
As they step inside, the sheer scale of the space stops Emma in her tracks. The kitchen is enormous, practically a cathedral dedicated to culinary perfection. Gleaming steel countertops stretch for what feels like miles, and every surface is spotless, reflecting the warm light of elegant pendant lamps hanging overhead.
Chefs in spotless white uniforms work with mechanical precision. One stirs a massive pot of bubbling broth while another slices vegetables so quickly Emma wonders how they still have fingers. The air is thick with the intoxicating scents of roasting meats, rich spices, and something faintly sweet and floral.
"Eomma!" Jisung calls out, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of activity. Heads turn briefly before returning to their tasks, except for one.
A striking woman in a sleek burgundy gown turns toward them, her movements deliberate and graceful. Her sharp cheekbones and perfectly styled hair give her an air of command, as though she's the general of this culinary battlefield. Her posture is impossibly straight, and her expression carries a poised neutrality that Emma instantly recognizes as judgment disguised as politeness.
"Jisung," the woman says, her voice smooth and measured. A faint smile touches her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She steps forward with an elegance that makes Emma want to stand taller. "You're late."
"Fashionably," Jisung counters, his grin unfazed. He gestures toward Emma, his tone softening. "Eomma, this is Emma."
Han Ji-ah's eyes flick to Emma, scanning her with the efficiency of a security scanner at an airport. Her faint smile doesn't waver, but there's something sharp in her gaze. "Emma," she says smoothly, extending a hand. "Welcome."
Emma shakes her hand, keeping her grip firm but not too firm. "It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Han."
"Ji-ah," she corrects, her tone polite but cool. "Mrs. Han is my mother-in-law."
Emma nods, maintaining her polite smile. "Ji-ah, then. Thank you for having me."
Jisung squeezes Emma's hand slightly, the gesture subtle but grounding. "Emma's a professor's assistant at Stanford," he says, his voice filled with quiet pride.
Ji-ah raises an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. "Economics, I hear?"
Emma clears her throat softly. "Yes, I teach undergraduate courses."
Jisung can't help himself. "She's basically the professor, though. The guy she works with barely shows up."
Ji-ah's faint smile tightens slightly, and her gaze shifts to her son. "Jisung, one is either a professor or not. 'Basically' does not exist."
"She is," Jisung insists, his tone firm. "She's the youngest faculty member at Stanford. They hired her as soon as she graduated."
Ji-ah pauses, her expression unreadable. "Impressive," she finally says, though her tone carries a faint note of scepticism. She turns her attention back to Emma. "Your parents must be very proud."
Emma keeps her voice steady. "Thank you. My mom is. My dad passed away before I was born, but my mom raised me on her own. She immigrated to the States with me when I was two and built her career from the ground up."
Ji-ah's features soften slightly, though her tone remains composed. "A self-made woman. Admirable. And unusual."
Emma nods, her tone warming as she talks about her mother. "She worked so hard. She always told me to pursue what made me happy, even if it wasn't easy."
Ji-ah's faint smile returns, though there's a hint of something sharp behind it. "How very American."
Jisung's grip tightens on Emma's hand slightly, but Emma's smile doesn't falter. "It is," she agrees lightly, brushing the comment off.
Ji-ah tilts her head, her tone casual but cutting. "Your mother must be very progressive. Parents here are often more... involved in their children's choices."
Emma smiles politely, though her mind races for the right response. "She wanted me to have the freedom to choose my path. I think that's the best gift she could've given me."
Before Ji-ah can respond, a sharp bell rings, cutting through the kitchen's hum. Ji-ah straightens immediately, her tone brisk. "Dinner is ready. Jisung, show her to the dining room. I'll join shortly."
Emma inclines her head. "Thank you. It was lovely meeting you."
Ji-ah's lips curve faintly. "Likewise."
As they step back into the hallway, Emma exhales slowly, glancing up at Jisung. "So... your eomma hates me."
Jisung sighs, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "She doesn't hate you. She's just... calculating."
Emma raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a wry smile. "Calculating?"
Jisung laughs softly. "Alright, fine. She's a hardass. But she's a softie underneath, I swear. You just have to... melt her ice palace."
Emma chuckles, shaking her head. "Sure. I'll get right on that."
Jisung grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. "You'll survive. And hey, if nothing else, Minho will be there to run interference."
Emma laughs, her nerves easing slightly. "I'll take it. Lead the way, Mr. Han."
Jisung leads Emma into a grand room that looks like something out of a palace. A glittering expanse of gold accents, towering crystal chandeliers casting soft, warm light, and walls adorned with oil paintings that probably cost more than Emma's yearly salary.
The hum of conversation is a low, constant buzz, occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter that echo through the cavernous space. Servers glide seamlessly through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres as if gravity doesn't apply to them.
Emma tightens her grip on Jisung's hand, her nerves bubbling to the surface as she takes in the sheer number of impeccably dressed people around them. "Jisung," she whispers, leaning slightly closer, "this isn't a party, it's a summit."
Jisung chuckles, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "Relax, jagiya. You've got this. They'll love you."
Emma lets out a soft laugh, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach. "I hope so."
Suddenly, Jisung's face lights up as he spots someone across the room. "Lix!" he calls, raising a hand in greeting.
A blonde head turns, and Felix's face breaks into a wide grin as he strides toward them, his tailored navy suit fitting him like a second skin. "Ji! Emma!" he exclaims, his voice warm and familiar. As soon as he reaches them, he pulls Jisung into a tight hug, clapping him on the back with a grin.
Then Felix turns to Emma, his arms already open. "Emma!" Without hesitation, he wraps her in a bear hug, lifting her slightly off the ground. "I'm so glad you're here!"
Emma laughs, returning the hug as Felix rocks her from side to side. "It's so good to see someone I actually know," she says, her relief evident.
Felix pulls back but keeps his hands on her shoulders, his grin unshakable. "You look amazing. Like, seriously, Jisung, how did you pull this off?"
"I have my ways," Jisung replies, smirking.
Felix gestures to the elegant woman standing just behind him, her dark hair pulled into a sleek bun and her outfit simple but commanding. "Emma, this is my wife, Yuna."
Emma extends a hand with a warm smile. "It's so nice to meet you."
Yuna's handshake is firm but friendly, and her smile carries a quiet confidence. "Likewise. Felix hasn't stopped talking about you. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
"All good things, I hope," Emma replies, her grin teasing.
"Mostly," Yuna quips, her eyes sparkling as she glances at Felix. "But he's been really excited to see you."
Before Emma can respond, a sharp voice cuts through the air. "Well, well, if it isn't the golden boy."
Jisung's shoulders stiffen slightly as a hand claps firmly on his shoulder. Emma turns to find a sharp-featured man with a smirk so smug it could be bottled and sold as arrogance. His suit is impeccable, but his demeanour reeks of superiority.
"And you must be Emma," he says, his tone just shy of patronizing. "Kim Seungmin," he adds, gesturing lazily to the woman beside him. "This is my wife."
The woman, Harin, looks flustered but kind as she extends her hand. "Hi, I'm—"
"Her name's Harin," Seungmin interrupts, not even sparing her a glance.
Emma shakes Harin's hand with a sympathetic smile, ignoring the prickle of irritation that Seungmin's tone ignites. "It's nice to meet you, Harin."
Seungmin doesn't seem to notice or care about the tension he's causing. His smirk deepens as he turns back to Emma. "So, you're from the Japanese-style Cup Ramen Choi family, right?"
Emma blinks, momentarily thrown by the absurdity of the question. "Uh, no."
Yuna leans closer to Jisung, her voice low but not exactly subtle. "If I deck him, will you bail me out of jail?"
Jisung's lips twitch into a grin. "Get in line."
Yuna's smile sharpens as she steps closer to Felix. "I'll be by the champagne, plotting my crime."
Felix nods, his tone light. "Bring me back one too, babe."
Seungmin, undeterred by the side conversation, keeps his gaze fixed on Emma. "Not ramen? Alright, then. Hong Kong telecom Chois?"
"No," Emma replies, forcing herself to stay composed, though her patience is wearing thin.
"Malaysian packing peanut Chois?"
Jisung steps in, his voice calm but firm as he cuts off Seungmin's tirade. "We're heading out to make the rounds. Nice catching up, Seungmin."
"Oh, come on," Seungmin calls after them, laughing. "There's gotta be more Chois out there!"
Jisung doesn't look back, steering Emma gently away with his hand resting on the small of her back. Emma exhales softly, her shoulders relaxing slightly now that they've escaped.
"Thank you," she murmurs, glancing up at him.
Jisung's grin is easy, his tone light. "What are boyfriends for?"
Emma raises an eyebrow, her smile returning. "For answering absurd questions about ramen lineage, apparently."
Jisung laughs, guiding her toward another corner of the room. "Well, you passed that test. Let's see what the next wolf has up their sleeve."
Emma squeezes his hand, a flicker of warmth cutting through her nerves. "Bring it on."
Jisung and Emma weave through the glittering crowd, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting an almost golden sheen over the sea of expensive fabric and polished smiles. The air buzzes with laughter, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the low hum of hushed conversations.
Jisung keeps his hand firm on Emma's lower back, a steadying presence as he guides her toward a group of older women clustered near a grand window draped in silk curtains. Their laughter fades the moment they notice the pair approaching, replaced with sharp, assessing looks.
Jisung's polite smile never falters. "Emma, these are three of my aunties, Mishil, Ga-Ram, and Geumseong."
The women chorus their greetings, their smiles brittle and their eyes keen. Emma inclines her head respectfully, though her stomach tightens at the weight of their stares.
Mishil, the eldest of the trio, leans forward, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "You're very thin, dear. Do you eat enough? I hope Jisung is feeding you well."
Emma's smile tightens slightly, but her voice remains calm. "I eat plenty, thank you."
"Must be nice," Ga-Ram says with a faint smirk, her features sharper and more angular than the others. "With a metabolism like that, I imagine you don't have to work too hard to keep up appearances. It's just surprising someone so... petite can manage the demands of academia."
"I manage just fine," Emma replies evenly, though she can feel the tension in her chest. She straightens slightly, refusing to shrink under their gazes.
Geumseong tilts her head, her voice laced with faux sympathy. "Jisung mentioned your father isn't in the picture. That must have been such a burden on your poor mother, raising you all alone."
Before Emma can respond, Jisung steps in smoothly, his hand tightening slightly on her waist. His voice is warm but firm, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Emma and her mother are two of the strongest people I know. I admire them both deeply."
The women exchange glances, their smiles faltering slightly. Mishil hums noncommittally before the group turns their attention to a passing tray of hors d'oeuvres, clearly dismissing them. Jisung takes the opportunity to steer Emma away, his posture still perfectly composed.
Once they're out of earshot, Emma lets out a quiet breath, glancing up at him. "Wow. That was... something."
Jisung leans down, his voice low and conspiratorial. "They're worse when they actually like someone. Trust me, you're getting the 'soft introduction.'"
Emma chuckles despite herself, shaking her head. "Soft, huh? Hate to see hard."
Jisung smirks, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You're handling it like a champ."
They make their way toward another corner of the room, where a tall woman in pale lavender stands with a flute of champagne in hand, her hair coiled into an elaborate updo. She watches their approach with an air of detached curiosity, her sharp eyes flicking between them.
"Aunt Myeong," Jisung says smoothly, his tone respectful but distant. "This is Emma."
Myeong's smile is tight as she extends a hand. "Emma, welcome. Jisung has spoken... fondly of you."
Emma shakes her hand, her polite smile unwavering. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Han."
Myeong's eyes sweep over Emma, assessing every detail of her dress, hair, and posture. "Do your parents like to entertain? Host dinners, parties, that sort of thing?"
Emma blinks, caught slightly off guard. "Uh-"
"Oh, right," Myeong interrupts, her tone laced with condescension. "Your mother is single, isn't she? I suppose she doesn't have the time or resources for entertaining."
Jisung's voice cuts in smoothly, his expression calm but his tone carrying an edge. "Actually, Emma's mother is an exceptional hostess. She has a gift for making people feel welcome and comfortable. I've experienced it myself."
Myeong hums, clearly unimpressed, and takes a sip of her champagne. "How quaint."
Jisung doesn't wait for further commentary, steering Emma away quickly. As they move toward the far side of the room, Emma lets out a soft laugh, though it's tinged with exasperation. "Does every woman in your family have a PhD in passive-aggression?"
"Only the ones who got bored after their master's," Jisung quips, earning a genuine laugh from her.
Their pace slows as they approach an elderly woman seated gracefully in a high-backed chair near the edge of the room. She's dressed in a deep indigo hanbok, her hair a silvery halo styled impeccably. Despite her years, her posture is perfectly straight, her hands resting lightly on the arms of her chair. Her sharp eyes soften the moment she sees Jisung.
"Halmeoni," Jisung greets, his voice warmer and more affectionate than it's been all night. He kneels slightly to her eye level, beaming. "I brought someone I want you to meet."
The older woman's smile brightens, her face lighting up with genuine affection. "Ah, my Jisung-ah," she says, her voice rich with warmth. Her gaze shifts to Emma, and her smile widens. "And this must be the beautiful woman you've been talking about."
Jisung rises, slipping an arm around Emma's waist. "Halmeoni, this is Choi Emma. Emma, this is my grandmother, Han Boram."
Emma dips her head respectfully, her voice soft but steady. "It's an honour to meet you, Mrs. Han."
"Jisung-ah, you've picked well. She's lovely."
Jisung grins. "She's amazing, halmeoni."
Boram's gaze lingers on Emma, her smile warm and approving. "You'll introduce her to me formally later, yes?"
"Of course, halmeoni," Jisung replies, his voice filled with quiet reverence.
Emma feels the tension in her shoulders ease under Boram's kind gaze. "Thank you for having me," she says sincerely. "Your home is beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you," Boram replies with a twinkle in her eye. "Now, go enjoy the evening. I'll call for you when I need you."
Jisung nods, guiding Emma away. As they walk, Emma glances up at him, her voice soft. "Your halmeoni is incredible."
"She is," Jisung says with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "And she already loves you."
Jisung leans close to Emma, his grin mischievous. "Emma, there's one more person I want you to meet. He's going to love you. He's got a thing for outcasts and underdogs."
Emma raises an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "Should I be worried?"
Jisung just grins and takes her hand, leading her through the crowd toward the bar. The room is grand, but the bar is tucked into a slightly quieter corner, where a tall man in a striking red suit with golden dragon detailing leans against the counter. His long dark hair is styled with precision, a feathered fringe framing his sharp cheekbones. He's sipping whiskey, his demeanour effortlessly cool despite the fact that no one around him seems to acknowledge his existence.
Emma is about to comment on the man's striking appearance when she accidentally knocks Jisung's glass of red wine. The deep red liquid spills across his pristine white shirt, the stark contrast drawing immediate attention.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Emma exclaims, her cheeks flushing as she grabs a napkin, trying to dab at the stain.
"It's fine, jagiya, really," Jisung says, his voice calm and reassuring as he gently takes the napkin from her. "It's just a shirt."
The man in the red suit notices the commotion and walks over, his movements fluid and confident. He places a hand on Jisung's shoulder. "Jisung, go, go, get changed. I'll keep Emma company."
Jisung grins, wiping at the wine. "Fate works in my favour tonight. Emma, this is who I wanted you to meet." He gestures toward the man. "Hwang Hyunjin."
Hyunjin takes Emma's hand, bowing slightly as he presses a light kiss to the back of it. His voice is smooth and warm as he says, "A pleasure."
Emma smiles back, charmed. "Nice to meet you."
"I'll be back," Jisung says, giving Emma a quick peck on the cheek before slipping away, leaving her with Hyunjin.
"Emma," a familiar voice calls from behind her. She turns to see Minho approaching, now dressed in a sleek black suit with silver diamond detailing that sparkles subtly under the lights.
"Minho!" Emma says, relieved to see him.
Minho's expression is dramatic as he approaches. "I heard Mrs. Han hates you already."
Emma sighs, lifting her glass of wine. "Oh, yeah."
Minho winces, patting her shoulder. "Yikes. Rough crowd."
Hyunjin tilts his head, a sly smile on his lips. "On the bright side, darling, you're the talk of the party. People adore your style."
Minho's eyes flick to Hyunjin, briefly biting his lip as he takes in the man's impeccable suit. Emma notices the glance but doesn't comment. Instead, she gestures toward the two men. "Minho, this is Hwang Hyunjin."
Minho's eyes widen slightly. "Emma, you're wearing one of his pieces."
Emma groans softly, draining the rest of her wine. "Of course I am."
Minho crosses his arms smugly. "I styled her."
Hyunjin claps his hands together softly. "Oh, fabulous."
"I know," Minho says, his tone playful.
Emma chuckles at their banter before turning to Hyunjin. "So, Hyunjin, are you a cousin too?"
Hyunjin nods, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. "Indeed, though they classify me as one of the poorer relations. Only a fashion empire to my name." He gives a dramatic shrug, his tone dripping with irony. "The rainbow sheep of the family, if that wasn't already obvious."
Emma giggles, her nerves starting to ease in Hyunjin's company. Minho, meanwhile, subtly eyes Hyunjin up, his gaze appreciative.
Hyunjin continues, gesturing with his glass. "But I make myself useful. Whatever the Hans want, I procure. Golden koi fish, a rare Cambodian gong, you name it."
Emma furrows her brow, amused. "Why would they want a rare Cambodian gong?"
As if on cue, a loud, echoing BANG reverberates through the room. Emma turns to see Jisung's Aunt Myeong standing triumphantly beside an enormous, ornate gong.
Hyunjin raises his glass, his smirk widening. "Because they can, darling."
Emma laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "Of course."
Taglist: @ot8girlfie @fackeraccount @sellomaybe @nightmarenyxx
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#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan#lee know#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#han jisung x oc#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x you#han jisung x reader#han x oc#han x y/n#han x reader#han x you#jisung x oc#jisung x you#jisung x reader#jisung x y/n#skz au#skz fanfic#han jisung fanfic
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HOTD S2E3 (spoilers abound)
I like that they buried the twins together. In together, out together. Rhaenys counseling Rhaenyra was also good.
Ah, Criston. The Peter principle made flesh. Dude, your impatience is gonna get you killed (keep at it).
Once in a while, one of the Greens gets the group braincell and actually makes a good point. Of course, it never lasts.
Rhaenyra and Mysaria. Emma is killing it this season, they need an Emmy and a Golden Globe (and whatever other awards they're eligible for), they make you believe the pain Rhaenyra is feeling with their voice alone.
Rhaenyra asking her stepdaughter/first cousin to take her two youngest to Pentos. I can understand why but I gotta side with Rhaena on this -- if she had a dragon (i.e. been of use in this war), Rhaenyra never would've considered sending her away. When is she gonna get Morning? (Or is the rumor true and Rhaena is going to be combined with Nettles and thus get Sheepstealer? God, I hope not. We need more WOC on this show, not fewer.)
I swear, Caraxes is the only dragon I can recognize from any distance, because of his neck. Harrenhal. I hope we see its destruction someday, I wanna see dragonfire melt stone. I think this scene of Daemon looking for whoever's in the castle is supposed to be tense (there's no music, it's like the show is holding its breath), but all I feel is bored.
I love Ser Simon! (I've loved his actor for years now) He's pragmatic, a trait that is far too uncommon in Westeros. Also, he's funny -- he pledges his loyalty to Rhaenyra then immediately tells Daemon the dinner menu.
Daemon, quit being so goddamn picky about your form of address. "King consort" isn't a real title anyway. :P
Ser Simon isn't going to survive this season, I'm sure. Hell, he might not even survive this episode if he doesn't stop calling Daemon "your highness."
"The throne?"
"It's a big chair made of swords."
Daemon, you're a little shit (mixed) but I love your sense of humor.
Oh yeah, Alicent has a brother. He was in the pilot, right? He's pretty, which is a blessing and a curse in Westeros. Dude, if you had any brains at all, you'd leave Westeros and never return. Your sister and father are full of shit, you'd be better off without them. Ugh, I listened to him say three words and I already hate him. He sounds like every rich man's son talking to someone socially beneath him. Criston, the concept of friendly fire doesn't exist in Westeros but I'm counting on you to introduce it.
Can I just say I love how Criston's Hand of the King chain is worn? It looks to be attached to his armor. It stands out more than just a pin would have.
Dornishman? Oh, right, this is before Daeron II, so everybody still hates Dorne, got it. Add "racist" to Gwayne's other shitty traits.
Criston, you're really fucking pushing it.
As much as I hate Alicent, I think Olivia deserves all the awards too. Alicent is barely keeping things together and Olivia is doing a great job showing that.
Was the raven/crow eating Cheese's eye truly a necessary shot?
The music as the army leaves KL is really good. Ramin is at the top of his game this season (as always).
"It would be treason." My girl Rhaenyra, standing up to these men who want to set her aside.
I love Corlys and Rhaenys together but I know Rhaenys has a ticking clock over her head. Rook's Rest is coming soon. If not tonight, then next week.
Rhaenyra sending her three youngest away. It's sad that Aegon III and Viserys II probably know their nannies better than they know their parents. Rhaena and Baela had a good moment but damn, we need more from both of them, the writers aren't giving us nearly enough.
Aww, Helaena smiled at Jaehaera and it was so sweet.
"I forgive you," Helaena tells her mother.
For what, Helaena? For fucking Criston when he should've been protecting your son? You're forgiving Alicent for that? I know you're her daughter and I know you've got a big heart but seriously?
Aegon II is wearing his namesake's armor? That armor is 130 years old, surely it's out-of-date by this point. And how far are the writers going to take this "I have no identity of my own" shtick?
I hate Larys but his actor is compelling. Looks like it's promotions for everybody this season.
These new Kingsguard knights are pathetic.
Ulf the White, huh? I'm THOROUGHLY unimpressed. Also, would it have killed the hair department to, you know, give him the white hair he was known for?
Oh good lord, Aegon II goes whoring and runs into Aemond.
Full frontal, really? I think the show is trying too hard to go viral this season. Shocking moments need to be earned and (except for B&C) this show just hasn't done that yet. (No shame to Ewan. Like Nicola Coughlan, I'm sure he wanted to be able to look back on this year in the future and remember how hot he was.) Did the color of Aemond's sapphire change? It's not as blue as it was last season (or maybe that's just the shitty lighting).
Baela should've barbecued those assholes.
Oh, Rook's Rest has been mentioned! The countdown has begun in earnest.
Young Rhaenyra and Jaehaerys? Daemon, your subconscious is fucked up. But hey, a guilty conscience is better than no conscience at all.
So that's the famous Alys Rivers? What the hell was that voice? She doesn't sound like an adult at all.
"Killing her would be easier." Mysaria, honey, you are so right but if she did that, we wouldn't need the promised third season.
Rhaenyra, your crush on Alicent is gonna get you both killed.
She's dressed as a septa? I can just hear the Rhaenicent fans now.
I'm 99% sure this didn't happen in the book. *side-eyes the writers* Don't start going off-book now, you know what happened to GoT.
"though not before I killed you." Rhaenyra, you could've threatened her in a letter, you didn't need to do it in person.
I can't stop staring at the beadwork on Alicent's gown. HOTD's costume department could teach a thing or two to Bridgerton's.
This is getting us nowhere. Rhaenyra, this was a very dumb idea. Get out now before Alicent (who couldn't keep her voice down if you paid her) calls the guards.
You know, Rhaenyra, if your family didn't insist on naming EVERY THIRD BOY Aegon, you wouldn't have this fucking problem.
"... you know what Aemond is." A loose cannon with mommy issues? Just saying.
Ugh, they're ending it there? No tense moment of Rhaenyra getting the fuck back to Dragonstone?
Yep, we're definitely getting Rook's Rest next week.
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I said i would do it before, but since tonights opening night, heres a list of funny things my cast and crew do for the show Puffs that i find really endearing and awesome :))
!!spoilers ahead!!
Act 1
Most if the time, when the Narrator (me) is not onstage, i sit in a little nook on either side of the stage, where i read books, play with a badger plush or my pet pygmy puff (also a plush), write things down, etc. I like to hc that the nook is in the Room of Requirement :) also dw i do get moments where i go backstage and take a break
Wayne wears a jersey with a W on it at the start of the play, it becomes important later
Leanne wears a colorful tutu!
Oliver has a pair of gold glasses
Oliver is from Baltimore, much to his discontent
Snape is played by the same guy who does Ernie Mac, J finch is played by the same guy who does Uncle Dave, and Hannah is played by the same person who does Voldy. Its real funny watching them switch characters
The sorting hat is big fortune teller. I think that was used for a version of the show somewhere else but its so goddamn funny
The training wand Professor McG gives to Oliver is one of those colorful toy wands with glitter and fluid inside that makes it all sparkly
For Professor Turban, he has those red finger lights as Voldy on the back of his turban. One rehearsal they fell on the floor and broke it was really funny
The sorcerers stone that Megan throws to the narrator is just a rock the director found outside. Its really heavy, our stage manager is supposed to paint it red (idk we found the rock yesterday. The rock we usually use fell on the stage and shattered so yeah cant use that anymore rip)
Wayne does a silly robot dance when he mentions Robocop right before meeting Ginny
Ginny is played by our student assistant director, who is a redhead. It couldnt be any other way man she had to be Ginny
Wayne is really tall. Oliver and Megan are around the same size but Wayne towers over them threateningly
When Harry and Ron Mop have a fight and Oliver tries to calm Ron Mop down, at the end Oliver yells at him "How come you get to kiss Emma Watson?!"
Real Mr. Moody has a flask for his potion, like in the series
Cedric wears heart pattern boxers during the bathroom scene. He used to be shirtless but we decided to give him a tanktop cuz it was very weird
The bathroom has a sweet lil ballet segment and we get huge bubble wands!
During the lake watching scene, J Finch falls asleep and starts snoring
Also during that same scene, Leanne panics about the lake and hides her head, then peeks her head out and says "is it gone?"
Viktor is capable of breakdancing!! They do an epic breakdance after the second task!
Each character in the three wizard tournament has a theme song - Frenchy has a french accordian song, Viktor has epic breakdancing music, Cedric has an epic rock and roll guitar riff, and Harry has a silly ukelele song that sounds like a Kevin Macleod song
Cedric and Waynes interaction right before the third task is so wholesome yet heartbreaking
Right before the intermission, i cast a spell to close the curtain
Act 2
Wayne finding out Cedric is dead is the most heartbreaking thing ive ever witnessed. The actor playing him is real silly dude but he got the emotions spot on and i applaud him for it
Ernie and Hannahs sign for "no being too sad" is not all that heavy, but the two actors play it like its the heaviest thing in the planet
J Finch's fav jellybean flavor changes every night. Some of my personal favs of things he has said: "Thermal paste", "plastic", "jellybean flavor", "oh man i forgot what it was, it was really good tho"
When Ernie Mac is fake bullying Hannah so she knows the difference, Ernie says "your face looks like he-whose-name-we-cannot-legally-say" which is funny for 2 reasons: 1, Hannah and Voldy share an actor, and 2, we cant say Voldemort cuz copyright
When J Finch starts "going to the petrified place" after Wayne yells at him, Ernie Mac punches J Finch and yells at him that he cant be too sad
Every single time during the Oliver and Megan kiss scene, Oliver gets Megan's dark lipstick on his face. It is hilarious
When I throw the year 5 book (which is really heavy) to the stage manager, she has decided she would make a new reaction every night. Examples: "hey! Big books hurt!" "You throw like a Puff, AND I MEAN THAT NEGATIVELY!" "The actors are attacking!! Run, stage crew! Run! *slams the door behind them*"
Voldy has a green swim cap and tape on his nose.
When Voldy is giving one of his death buddies a show of affection, midway through he says "i hope you're loving this as much as i am", to which the poor death buddy responds "i hate it 😥"
Oliver and Megan are holding hands while Wayne is asking about grades. Wayne gets sick of it and forces himself between them, breaking their holding hands
Zac Smith is hilarious. Hes played by the same guy who did Cedric before he died in act 1. Zac Smith has so many stupid stories, like one about how he ate a magic muffin, turned into a muffin, and watched his friend who also got turned into a muffin get eaten. Another one is how he watched a magic VHS of the movie Shrek, and the donkey appeared in his home, and he was so annoying that Zac cooked him, and every day he waits for the dragon to come kill him. Most recent one was when he watched a magic VHS of a Midsummer Nights Dream, and had his head turned into a donkey, and was jealous that the donkey man is getting more bitches than him, so Zac decides he'll make his own movie - Zac Smith: the Hot Donkey. I always break character during that scene istg
The actor for Xavia is fantastic. She got that evil dumb mom vibe we needed
Right when Wayne sees Sally Perks leaning in for the kiss, Wayne quickly puts on chapstick and pops his lips. Why, i have no idea but its funny
Megan being torn about whether she should kill her friends or miss this opportunity to be with her mom is absolutely heartbreaking it is so sad :(
During the flashback to when Xavia got recruited, Voldy does the worm and Xavia aggressively flips her hair all over the place.
Voldy canonically does a Jack Sparrow run
Apparently Wayne dances during the flashback scene?? I had never noticed that i need to see that tonight lmao
Xavia struggling to open the doors is so fun. When she gives up she runs into the house, still yelling that she'll be back. Its so golden
The Headmaster falls into the pit for his death. The actor just lays in the pit for the rest of the show until the final important headmaster moment
I have never cried inside harder to a story of how Oliver turned his parents heads into oranges. The scene is so good and emotional :((
Bippy is peak comedy. Bippy is love. Bippy is life. Bippy sprints to the back of the auditorium and its the funniest shit ever
Voldy does amazing crowdwork ngl. He be asking what the difference between witches and wizards are, what the deal with British food is, and what is the purpose of boy bands (they make him want to run the other direction), it gets to the point where the Assistant Director has to take his megaphone away
All the deaths are so sad. I dont really see them all cuz im offstage during the war but when i do catch them its so sad
When Oliver returns hes wearing his scarf like a bandana. You go Karate Kid
Sally drops her glasses before her death. She funbles on the ground trying to find them
When J Finch dies, Ernie cradles him in his arms and its really sad
Bippys death goes on for like years. She just refuses to die until the songs done. Its very funny dear god
Waynes death hurts man
When Wayne arrives at the very white room two guys are holding up a white blanket and they have angel costumes on.
When the Headmaster says "see for yourself" Cedric appears and hands him a Puff scarf. I cant 😭😭😭
Voldy also falls into the pit for his death.
When i show up again as Megan and Olivers child, Wayna, i wear Waynes W jersey he had at the start of the play 😭
"Whether you're a Brave, a Smart, or a... child who vapes in the school bathrooms..."
When Oliver asks Wayna what 3 × 4 is, i act like i know how to solve it. "Oh i got this, 3 times 4, 3 groups of 4, 3 + 3 + 3 +3 is.... i dont know :)"
When i sit in the stool, Waynes arm hands me the Puff scarf. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
During Curtain Call, we all be doing a silly dance. Im dancing with Megan and Oliver, and Wayne runs on to crash the party like he does in play lmao
ALRIGHT THATS ALL
I HOPE YOU LIKED IT THANKS FOR READING MY 12 PARAGRAPH ESSAY
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[IDEA THAT'S NOT YET A PITCH]
Marvel's Damage Control
What is it —
A female-led Marvel action-superhero series that instead of being the type of pandering and obnoxious girl power schlock that we have today, is a throwback to 2000s and early 2010s action cartoons that wipe the floor with modern garbage.
PREMISE:
Heavily implied to be in the same continuity as The Spectacular Spider-Man, Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes and Wolverine and the X-Men, a now college student Mary Jane Watson is looking ahead for her future but is currently struggling to keep up with the rest due to certain personal issues in her private life.
Accepting an opportunity that could potentially make her life now easier and even set her future in stone, MJ learns the hard way that sometimes taking what appears to be the easy route isn't always the best option when she discovers it's nothing more than a horrible ruse that lands her into a secret street level conflict between a now solo Susan Storm/Invisible Woman, a now solo Emma Frost, Felicia Hardy/Black Cat, Sable Manfredi/Silver Sable and a now solo Tandy Bowen/Dagger. That is until a series of new threats emerge that affects them all in some way, shape or form and the six of them end up forming an unlikely team whose job is to be a clean-up crew that specialize in dealing with the aftermath of superhero conflicts, rescheduling events because of the conflicts and retrieving lost items. Turns out for Mary Jane, it pays really well.
NOTES/TRIVIA/DETAILS:
• Yes, it will be directly implied to be set in the Yost-Verse continuity. Not only will all the voice actresses — Vanessa Marshall, Erin Torpey, Kari Wahlgren, Tricia Helfer and Nikki Cox — reprise their roles but there will be a definite wink-wink, nudge-nudge to the events of the previous three shows. The idea for it is that several things (in this case, Spectacular, EMH and Wolverine) happened, they all of a sudden went dormant but now BOOM! it's back and the shadows here are moving again, everything is moving under the goddamn sun and you pick it up from there.
• The Damage Control team will be a more than unconventional team that come into conflict over different things with the big ones being Black Cat and Silver Sable aren't afraid to get their hands dirty since they're basically villains-turned-anti-heroes while Mary Jane's personal life plays a role in the events for the team. However, it's at the end of the day that it's revealed they're an incredibly effective and capable team that get the damn job done.
• One thing that will be played for humor and help define and establish the tone of it where it's more on a somewhat grounded level is that the team, much to her dismay, decide to live together in Mary Jane's apartment where she shares the same bed as Sue and Sable who ultimately act as caring mother figures to her.
• Another thing that will differentiate it from others is that the six leads will actually have their bumbling and screw-up boobish moments (a la Elastigirl checking herself out in the mirror, Kim Possible accidentally landing into the arms of a Bebe and then being thrown etc.) to show that despite being "strong, female characters" they are far from perfect but it makes sense in context because Mary Jane is just starting out as a superhero, Susan, Emma and Cloak are just starting as solo heroes and Black Cat and Sable are just starting out as anti-heroes so they're all bound to screw up when they're in action.
• Now this is just for fun but there will be a few easter eggs, references and flat-out and direct cameos either to or from other non-superhero media that establishes a retroactive shared universe. I mean hey if fucking Ultimate Spider-Man can do it with Jessie, thus having it be part of the Disney Channel Universe officially than why can't I with this. For example, Sable finds herself stuck in an elevator with a certain eccentric black woman who turns out to be security after having worked at the infamous C.U.R.E. Institute — it's motherfucking Denise Hemphill from Scream Queens with Niecy Nash reprising her role.
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Around October, I noticed my AO3 wordcount for this year has reached near 40k. So I thought, "Hey Sael, surely you can reach 50.000 words by the end of the year right?" Nevermind the fact that my thesis deadline is also in December.
But hey, I goddamn did. 51.236 words. Here's a list of the fics I wrote in 2023. Chronologically, when last updated, because that's cool. + short summary/my core idea for each fic.
Happy New Year!
February
Home Address, 35 Portland Row (Lockwood & Co.)
So did George just one day knocked on Lockwood's door with Skull under his arm being all, "Hey, I commited theft." Pre-canon exposition.
April
Buried Apple (Undertale AU)
Dream watched his twin die, got turned to stone, and wakes up to someone parading in his twin's corpse. How did he grieved?
May
The Hidden Basement (Lockwood & Co. and The Sandman)
Jessamy's regrets of failing to save Dream resulted in a haunted mansion. Who else would come take care of the haunting but Lockwood & Co.
June
Killer's Soul Journey (Undertale AU, yea this fandom really inspired me)
Killer got 4 stages, he also got the gang and Color. So what if each stages react differently to each group.
That Feeling and That Tone. (Undertale AU)
Just a reset in the life of Killer and Chara.
Tales from The Library (Undertale AU)
Same universe as "The Hidden Basement". What's life like for Lockwood & Co. with a type three bird ghost, Jessamy?
July
Colorful Conversations (Undertale AU)
It's in the name. Three conversations that help Color be... Color.
Divergence (Undertale AU)
We explore how time works in the multiverse, sorta.
Versa(tear)lity (Undertale AU)
There are many ways to utilize Killer's tears, here are some of them. Crack. This is just a pure crackfic.
The Circlet (Undertale AU)
There's a gap in Dream's circlet. It widens as Dream grows and his skull gets bigger. There's none in Nightmare's circlet.
August
Feelings Imminent (Undertale AU)
Killer have trouble feeling, which means he doesn't know when he's hungry, tired, or hurt. Horror tries to help.
September
Boiled Care (Undertale AU)
Cross and Horror talk about authority figures over breakfast.
October
I Know That You Can Track It Back To Me (Link Click)
Cheng Xiaoshi wants to know from whom did Lu Guang learns all the ins and outs of their powers. Well he does have time traveling powers, so learning about the past should be easy.
Like Once You Did For Me (Link Click)
Lu Guang's POV of "I Know That You Can Track It Back To Me". On a sad and lonely night, Lu Guang comes across a strange man.
So What's With The Sudden Costume Change? (Link Click)
For a fashionable show, Lu Guang's season two outfit is just a cat pajama. Oh wait, there's also the cool theater outfits. But that came out of nowhere so why? Crack, Actor AU.
A White Dream (Link Click)
A death node cannot be change, that's what Lu Guang said, but that can't be right. Cheng Xiaoshi is sure, he changed a death node once before.
November
A Gray Coat (Link Click)
Emma's parents waited all night for her, not knowing she's lying dead under a bridge. How does a parent grief over their child?
December
Shattered Reflections (Link Click)
Cheng Xiaoshi-Lu Guang's powers swapped with Li Tianchen-Li Tianxi's powers. How would that work? How would the story progress?
(I swear I will finish the last chapter soon. I promise. I just gotta graduate first.)
How to Lose A Bet and Still Win (Link Click)
The biggest betting pool in Guidu University is "when will Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang become official". Some students try to win the bet by manipulating the not-couple and sabotaging other betters. Outsider POV.
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weird fic update
So the whole premise is: Gabe is this sight guy who keeps getting called a homo by everyone he knows, so he’s like, I’m gonna go to the gay bar to prove I’m not gay. And all the random dudes are hitting on him the whole night and he’s like, this is easy, until he sees the bartender — and he’s like, fuck, that guy is lowkey hot.
Then they start conversing or whatever, and pretty soon, porn happens.
Ok, so this starts after Nick gets off work and he’s like, Gabe, do you wanna dance with me?
Ok, so:
Nick takes off his apron and hangs it on the shelf before stepping around the bar.
“Here, take this,” he says, handing Gabe a shot filled with foul-smelling liquor.
Gabe eyes it, and after watching Nick down his, he follows suit.
“Come on, let’s dance,” Nick says (haha Emma Stone and Jonah Hill).
Nick reaches out his hand, and Gabe — drunk and feeling much looser — takes it, happy to be told what to do.
They enter the dance floor and start swaying to the music. Gabe is awkwardly standing there, moving his hips stiffly while Nick watches him in amusement.
As the song goes on, Nick starts to move closer and closer to Gabe. Gabe continues to dance, unaware of Nick’s advances.
Then two hands slide around his waist — and he doesn’t pull away.
What the fuck, Gabe. This guy is groping you. Aren’t you gonna leave?
Gabe thinks he should, since he’s fully heterosexual and everything, but… it doesn’t necessarily feel bad. In fact, it’s actually kind of nice.
Nick’s hands are big, and Gabe likes the firm grasp they have on him.
Embarrassingly, he finds himself actually leaning into the touch.
Gabe is lost in some other world but is pulled back to reality when he feels the ghost of Nick’s breath on his neck.
Nick continues to whisper things in his ear — but he can’t seem to make out the words over the loud music and the strobing lights overtaking his senses.
With Nick’s warm breath on his ear and the firm hold on his waist, Gabe just can’t think!
He leans back, grabs Nick by the back of his head, and pulls him down.
Nick looks shocked — and slightly aroused?
Bad idea, Gabe thinks. Quickly, he leans to the side of Nick’s head and maybe a bit too loudly asks if there’s somewhere quieter they can go. Because he really wants to know what Nick is trying to say to him.
That’s it. No other motives for wanting to be alone with him in a quiet, secluded place. Gabe just wants to talk.
“Yeah, sure. We can go around back where I like to smoke. No one ever comes out there,” Nick says.
Gabe is annoyed by the slight smile on Nick’s face. He just wants to talk! Why is everyone so dirty-minded?
Nick takes Gabe by the hand and leads him off the dance floor through a door marked STAFF ONLY.
It’s dark out, but the moon is big and bright, and the cold air feels nice on Gabe’s flushed, slightly sweaty skin.
Tired, Gabe leans against the wall, enjoying the sensation of the cold brick.
Nick resumes his position from inside the club — hands firmly planted on Gabe’s waist, looming over him.
Goddamn, how tall was this guy?
It’s not like Gabe was short or anything — he was like five-eleven and three-quarters.
Anyway, he was positive Nick didn’t have any ill intent.
It was a chilly night — he was probably just staying close for warmth.
Nothing wrong with that.
The thumb of Nick’s hand slips under Gabe’s button-up shirt and starts to stroke the bare skin there. Gabe shivers and leans into the touch.
Nick leans closer, his mouth hovering above Gabe’s for a second — their breaths mingling.
Oh my god what the fuck is happening are we about to kiss right now. Why isn’t he kissing me? He’s just standing there all close. He’s probably gay though. Holy shit this is kinda gay. Well… it’s only gay if I like it. Do I like this? Fuck, I think I kinda like this. Whatever, fuck it.
Gabe leans in and connects their mouths. Nick reciprocates immediately (eager much?) and licks into Gabe’s mouth.
He then slips his hands fully under Gabe’s shirt and runs them down the sides of his body.
Growing more confident with the kiss, Gabe tugs Nick’s lip piercing between his teeth and pulls lightly.
Nick groans — surprised and elated with this new development.
Nick steps closer, brushing his thigh against Gabe’s crotch, causing Gabe to moan into Nick’s mouth and grind down against his leg.
Holy fucking shit, Gabe, what is happening. You are embarrassing yourself.
Gabe knew he must look a right mess — squirming and writhing all worked up just from one little kiss.
He couldn’t care less though. It just felt so good — and Nick seemed into it.
Nick’s hands explored the expanse of Gabe’s chest.
Experimentally, he ran the pad of his thumb along Gabe’s nipple, delighted with the shaky breath it drew from him.
Nick pulled away to kiss down the side of Gabe’s neck, licking and sucking at the skin until he found Gabe’s pulse point and bit down.
Gabe — who had been letting out some whimpers and exhales — loudly cried out before quickly biting his fist to muffle the frankly obscene noises he was making.
Nick continued to attack his neck, before further unbuttoning Gabe’s shirt to gain access to his collarbones.
He latched on firmly to a spot until he was rudely interrupted by a hand harshly grappling the back of his head and pulling him backwards.
The sight he was greeted with made up for it, though:
Gabe’s lips were swollen and a deep red color, his pupils dilated, and his eyes rimmed red —
Oh my god, was he crying? That’s fucking hot. I wanna make him do it again. Maybe after he’s already cum on my cock and I use my mouth on him until he’s sobbing and shaking like a leaf. Shit where was I — oh yeah,
— and he had the cutest flush from his cheeks all the way down to his chest.
His nipples were also swollen from Nick’s ministrations. (What a mean guy.)
“What did you do that for?” Nick asks.
“Are you fucking serious right now? You’ve been teasing me forever and I’m literally going to die if you don’t touch me!”
“Aww, poor you. I can’t believe I’ve been neglecting you for so long. I feel just horrible about it.”
Lightly, he pawed at Gabe’s crotch, giving him only slight relief from his burning desire.
“Nick! Come on. Please?”
Ooh, he liked the sound of that. He really was such a mean guy.
“Oh, you can do better than that. I know you can.”
“Huh?”
“Come on, beg for it. Since you’re gonna literally die. Show me how bad you want it.”
“Nuh-uh. No way. That’s way too fucking humiliating.”
Hmm, that’s kinda the point, Nick mused, before dropping down to his knees in front of him.
“Do you want me to suck your dick?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“Uh… yeah.”
Nick unzipped Gabe’s fly, pulling down his jeans and boxers just enough to expose his cock to the cool night air.
“F-f-fuck.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already aching for it.”
Nick took Gabe in his hand and started to slowly stroke down his length with a feather-light touch. It was borderline cruel. Gabe let out a frustrated huff.
“Hey, man. Come on, can’t you just — ugh!”
Nick squeezed the base of his cock and simply looked up at him expectantly.
Jesus Christ this guy is such a fucking asshole. Why won’t he just do itttttt. He’s really gonna make me beg. Holy shit I can’t believe I’m gonna do this.
“I…” — a pause — “Nick, I…”
His ears perked up at that. The way his name sounded in Gabe’s mouth — all whiny, frustrated, and desperate — it was intoxicating.
“Nick, I need your mouth on me. Please, I really need you to suck my dick. Just please — agh, fuck!”
He was cut off by Nick taking the head of his cock into his mouth.
Slowly, he took more of him, until the tip of his nose was brushing Gabe’s abdomen.
He pulled off slightly, and Gabe’s hips twitched forward, desperate to go deeper into Nick’s mouth.
In retaliation, Nick grappled Gabe’s hips and pinned him firmly to the wall.
Now he was going even slower than before.
Gabe really couldn’t stand it.
The slow drag of tongue, the cold metal of Nick’s lip ring rubbing on the underside of his dick, the way Nick was bobbing his head — it was all way too much.
“Uhm, Nick? I don’t think I can last much longer,” Gabe gasped.
This statement seemed to invigorate Nick with newfound passion.
He was no longer languidly sucking him — now he was going in earnest.
Gabe used his hand to cover the moans and whimpers that escaped his mouth — but Nick slowed down, and since he was such a quick learner, Gabe dropped his hand, letting the obscene noises fall freely from his mouth.
He was rewarded by Nick taking him so far back into his throat that he swallowed around him.
Gabe’s orgasm tore through him — it came forcefully, with no warning.
He closed his eyes, groaned, and knocked his head back against the wall as he spilled down Nick’s throat.
As he came back to his senses, the mortifying reality of what he had just done hit him like a truck.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck — I’m so sorry dude! Like oh my god I did not mean to. Did you spit it out? You totally should — cause that’s like, really gross and —”
Gabe watched the bob of Nick’s throat.
This guy is fucking crazy. Did he actually just swallow that? Wait… does that mean it’s my turn? I don’t think I could do that. At least… not yet. Yet?! Gabe, what the fuck do you mean ‘yet,’ this is a one-time thing!
“You look starstruck. Don’t tell me no girl’s ever swallowed for you,” Nick teased.
“What! No! Of course they have!”
(Great job Nick. Super convincing. That look on his face totally screams ‘I believe you.’)
Before Gabe could continue to defend himself, he noticed the protruding bulge in Nick’s pants.
“Do you uh…” — GULP, it’s comically loud — “want some help with that?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Nick said, grinning.
He was actually kinda worried the selfish prick would have an identity crisis and run away, but if nothing else, Gabe was a gentleman.
“Got it — you want me to fix the grammar and spelling, and then add on, keeping the same tone and style, just cleaned up. Here’s the fixed version plus continuation:
⸻
“What do you want to do? I don’t really think I could s-suck it.”
“What, don’t you believe in yourself?”
“Well, it’s not that. It’s just I’ve never, y’know, done that before, and like… I don’t know how.”
“There’s a first time for everything. And I think you would be great. Your lips would look so pretty stretched around my cock.”
Gabe’s breath caught in his throat. They were just words, but he found himself wanting to make Nick proud of him. He wanted Nick to compliment him more, to praise him more. He wanted to be good for him.
“I mean, I guess I can try. Just like… don’t shove it down my throat or anything,” he said with a nervous little chuckle at the end.
“I would never do any such thing,” Nick said, voice teasing but somehow still reassuring.
Slowly, Gabe dropped to his knees in front of Nick, looking up at him for permission—reassurance? He didn’t really know. He didn’t have any experience with this, and he was starting to wish he had focused more on what Nick was doing earlier instead of trying not to cum… because that worked out so well.
Nick, seeing that Gabe was too shy to make the first move, unzipped his pants and pulled himself free. Suddenly, Gabe was face-to-face with another man’s dick.
He had never been this close to one before—it was very intimidating. And big, too.
I can’t fit that fucking thing in my mouth. I think I would die. I would suffocate before I even had the chance. He seriously can’t expect me to—
Before he could finish the thought, Gabe felt the pad of Nick’s thumb rubbing against his bottom lip. Instinctively, he opened his mouth—God knows why.
Nick used his thumb to press down on Gabe’s tongue, gently coaxing his jaw open as far as it would go.
Sensing his apprehension, Nick said, “Don’t worry. I’ll start gentle.”
Start?! Gabe screamed internally.
But Nick was already lining himself up with Gabe’s mouth. Any remaining coherent thought fled when a drop of precum landed on Gabe’s tongue.
Holy shit, that’s fucking disgusting. How did he do this? And he went so far as to swallow it—
Okay… maybe he was being a little overdramatic. It wasn’t that bad. Just kind of bitter and salty.
Still, Gabe steeled himself as Nick slowly pushed into his mouth. Only the tip at first. Nick let out a long, low groan, his hand tangling gently in Gabe’s hair again—not forcing, just guiding. Gabe’s tongue instinctively lapped at the underside of Nick’s cock, making Nick’s hips twitch forward slightly.
“Good… just like that,” Nick rasped, voice rough with need.
Gabe bobbed his head awkwardly, not really sure what he was doing but wanting so badly to make Nick feel good. Nick wasn’t pushing him, just letting him explore at his own pace.
Gabe hollowed his cheeks slightly and took him in a little deeper. Nick let out a strangled sound above him, and Gabe felt a surge of pride.
He pulled back, breathing heavily through his nose, and licked at the head again, tasting another bead of precum. This time he didn’t even flinch.
Nick was panting softly, hips trembling like he was holding himself back with sheer willpower.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Nick whispered, brushing his knuckles against Gabe’s flushed cheek.
Gabe whined at the praise and tried to take him deeper, gagging slightly but pushing through it.
Nick couldn’t help himself anymore. Gently, slowly, he rocked his hips forward, fucking into Gabe’s mouth with shallow thrusts. Gabe relaxed his throat as best he could, his hands braced on Nick’s thighs.
“You feel so fucking good,” Nick groaned.
“You’re gonna make me cum, baby… fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”
The idea made Gabe’s cock throb painfully in his jeans. He closed his eyes and moaned around Nick’s length, sending vibrations up through his body.
Nick’s thrusts became more erratic, his grip tightening in Gabe’s hair.
“Fuck, Gabe, I’m gonna—”
Nick pulled back slightly and jerked himself a few times before spilling over Gabe’s lips and tongue. Gabe instinctively swallowed as much as he could, but some dribbled down his chin. He wiped it away quickly, cheeks burning.
Nick sagged back against the wall, chest heaving. He looked down at Gabe with an expression somewhere between awe and disbelief.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Nick panted.
“You’re fucking incredible.”
Gabe smiled shyly, wiping at his mouth again.
“Yeah… you too.”
Nick laughed breathlessly and dropped to his knees in front of Gabe, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.
Gabe melted into it, tasting himself on Nick’s tongue and weirdly not caring at all.
Nick pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Gabe’s.
“You wanna get outta here?” he asked, voice low and rough.
“Like, into the club?” Gabe asked, dazed.
Nick huffed a laugh.
“No, dumbass. I mean… to my place.”
Gabe blinked up at him, still catching his breath.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, I want that.”
Nick grinned and kissed him again, slower this time, his hands warm and steady on Gabe’s flushed skin.
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it's called fiction for that reason. i mean yes, we need more black characters and representations, i get your argument.
but that doesn't necessarily mean you'd come after emma stone and ryan gosling for being white.
the way they act, i can't give tiny rabbit's ass what their skin colour is. all i know is la la land would be so much less if the casting team picked literally anyone else but them.
for me, that movie brings summer and romance and starcrossed cannot be spelled without mia and seb.
sometimes, even when you love somebody, you have to choose yourself and your career above them.
mia could have been with him forever while he was struck and passionless, but she chose his happiness over hers. THAT'S THE FUCKING POINT
THEY COULD BE GODDAMN HAPPY, but she didn't want a halfhearted ending, and he simply understood that. that one look across the hall says everything. they could but they didn't. they broke the stereotype : "oh you're in love? you must do crazy stupid things!" And they were still, in the end, a little bit in love. THAT'S THE FUCK I'M TALKING ABOUT.
Watching La La Land in 2024 crazy to me becos I had to watch Emma Stone play the female lead when she dances to "jazz" like a chicken who just had its head chopped off, while Sonoya Mizuno who's literally a professional ballet dancer play a supportive roomate character. I had to watch this White girl struggle to make it in Hollywood. I had to watch Ryan Gosling, a White man, posture himself as a superior and more authentic jazz musician than the Black "sell-out" who is played by the EGOT winning singer-songwriter-record producer John Legend. I had to watch this White dude worry about jazz being gentrified. I had to believe that these two people are the leads of a musical film about jazz and making it in Hollywood, Damien Chazelle you son of a bitch.
#um#la la land#is still a masterpiece#films#please stop#mia dolan#Sebastian wilder#Emma Stone#Ryan Gosling
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Glamour in Pink

It’s been a few weeks and all the Barbie Oscar nomination discourse has kind of died down. I’ve been waiting to chime in on it because I have a completely different take on that whole situation, and I kind of didn’t want to be called a misogynist for it. I don’t think my opinion should be all that inciting but, you know, the internet It’s like a box of cats out there, even more so on this hell site, but I’ve been around for years and want the smoke so here it goes. See, I watch movies. I’ve watched a ton of goddamn movies in my life. Probably several thousand. I mean, you can probably tell that from the fact I have a tertiary blog strictly for reviews. Be it television, film, comics, games, whatever, i have my soapbox. I also watched most of the films in the corresponding categories in which Barbie was “snubbed”. For me, these weren’t snubs. I’m not going to get into how the feminist film wasn’t recognized by the Academy and whatever else because that’s an emotional response. It’s like when people wanted Black Panther to win something. I disagreed then, too, for a lot of the same reason. Plainly put, Barbie, like Black Panther, just wasn’t good enough.
Best Director

Best Director was loaded to the gills, man. I didn’t see The Zone of Interest, but the rest of those films are, in my opinion, were directed much better than what we got in Barbie. I’m not taking anything away from Greta but, just surface level, I can honestly say the guiding hand of Lanthimos, Nolan, and Scorsese, kind of exposed a lot of what Greta was doing with her film. It’s weird to say, but watching Barbie kind of made me realize that Greta is still a little rough around the edges in terms of her craft. Those other names on the list, they have a clear vision as to how to execute the narratives they bring to the screen. Greta has this ability but it didn’t feel as focus in Barbie as it did in, say, Little Women. I don’t know if that’s because this wasn’t an adaption but compared to the others in this category, I see why she was left out. Like, what the f*ck was up with all of the Will Ferrell sh*t, anyway? Why did it take up so much of the film?
Best Actress

Straight up, my gut tells me Margot was robbed. Putting that out there immediately because I have a massive Robbie bias. I think she is an incredible actress and admire the f*ck out of her finding her own way in the industry with her Lucky Chap production company. All that said, objectively, this category is probably tougher than the Best Director one. Again, didn’t see Anatomy of a Fall so I can’t comment on Sandra Huller but every other actress on this list, f*cking killed. Carey Mulligan, for sure did her thing in Maestro and, while I found that film to be kind of boring overall, her performance never disappointed. Annette Benning is a giant in the industry and she threw that weight around in Nyad like it was just second nature to her. Lily Gladstone was absolutely brilliant in Flower Moon. She brought so much depth and emotion to that role, it would have been hard not to include her in this category. Now, for my money, Emma Stone takes this category because her time spent as Bella Baxter was incredible. Id Oppenheimer didn’t exist, Poor Things would be my Film of the Year, and that’s almost exclusively because of Emma f*cking Stone!

I may sound like I’m going in on Margot and Greta but I cannot stress enough how that’s not the case. I absolutely believe Greta is an exceptional director, Ladybird proved that, and my love for Margot is profound. Hell, even after everything just said, I don’t begrudge the fact so many people feel slighted that they got slighted. Like, they JUST missed the cut, in my opinion. If any one of those films slid into next year’s competition. If, say, Poor Things had a January release, Barbie would be right there. It is a really, really, great film and definitely deserves the Best Motion Picture nod, but I don’t think it’s good enough to win. I don’t think it deserves that gold. I think Runner Up or nomination, is just fine for what we have. The competition is just way too strong this year, which is why Margot and Greta didn’t get the nods. It’s not some gran, -Isitc, conspiracy. There is no irony to be had here. Greta didn’t put together a solid enough effort by comparison and Margot got lost in the shuffle of an unusually strong Best Actress class. That’s all. Seriously, watch the other films in their categories and tell me which one doesn’t deserve to be there. You tell me which film gets the boot to let Margot and Robbie in. I bet you’re going to have as hard a time as I did trying to figure that one out.

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Glamour in Pink

It’s been a few weeks and all the Barbie Oscar nomination discourse has kind of died down. I’ve been waiting to chime in on it because I have a completely different take on that whole situation, and I kind of didn’t want to be called a misogynist for it. I don’t think my opinion should be all that inciting but, you know, the internet It’s like a box of cats out there, even more so on this hell site, but I’ve been around for years and want the smoke so here it goes. See, I watch movies. I’ve watched a ton of goddamn movies in my life. Probably several thousand. I mean, you can probably tell that from the fact I have a tertiary blog strictly for reviews. Be it television, film, comics, games, whatever, i have my soapbox. I also watched most of the films in the corresponding categories in which Barbie was “snubbed”. For me, these weren’t snubs. I’m not going to get into how the feminist film wasn’t recognized by the Academy and whatever else because that’s an emotional response. It’s like when people wanted Black Panther to win something. I disagreed then, too, for a lot of the same reason. Plainly put, Barbie, like Black Panther, just wasn’t good enough.
Best Director

Best Director was loaded to the gills, man. I didn’t see The Zone of Interest, but the rest of those films are, in my opinion, were directed much better than what we got in Barbie. I’m not taking anything away from Greta but, just surface level, I can honestly say the guiding hand of Lanthimos, Nolan, and Scorsese, kind of exposed a lot of what Greta was doing with her film. It’s weird to say, but watching Barbie kind of made me realize that Greta is still a little rough around the edges in terms of her craft. Those other names on the list, they have a clear vision as to how to execute the narratives they bring to the screen. Greta has this ability but it didn’t feel as focus in Barbie as it did in, say, Little Women. I don’t know if that’s because this wasn’t an adaption but compared to the others in this category, I see why she was left out. Like, what the f*ck was up with all of the Will Ferrell sh*t, anyway? Why did it take up so much of the film?
Best Actress

Straight up, my gut tells me Margot was robbed. Putting that out there immediately because I have a massive Robbie bias. I think she is an incredible actress and admire the f*ck out of her finding her own way in the industry with her Lucky Chap production company. All that said, objectively, this category is probably tougher than the Best Director one. Again, didn’t see Anatomy of a Fall so I can’t comment on Sandra Huller but every other actress on this list, f*cking killed. Carey Mulligan, for sure did her thing in Maestro and, while I found that film to be kind of boring overall, her performance never disappointed. Annette Benning is a giant in the industry and she threw that weight around in Nyad like it was just second nature to her. Lily Gladstone was absolutely brilliant in Flower Moon. She brought so much depth and emotion to that role, it would have been hard not to include her in this category. Now, for my money, Emma Stone takes this category because her time spent as Bella Baxter was incredible. Id Oppenheimer didn’t exist, Poor Things would be my Film of the Year, and that’s almost exclusively because of Emma f*cking Stone!

I may sound like I’m going in on Margot and Greta but I cannot stress enough how that’s not the case. I absolutely believe Greta is an exceptional director, Ladybird proved that, and my love for Margot is profound. Hell, even after everything just said, I don’t begrudge the fact so many people feel slighted that they got slighted. Like, they JUST missed the cut, in my opinion. If any one of those films slid into next year’s competition. If, say, Poor Things had a January release, Barbie would be right there. It is a really, really, great film and definitely deserves the Best Motion Picture nod, but I don’t think it’s good enough to win. I don’t think it deserves that gold. I think Runner Up or nomination, is just fine for what we have. The competition is just way too strong this year, which is why Margot and Greta didn’t get the nods. It’s not some gran, -Isitc, conspiracy. There is no irony to be had here. Greta didn’t put together a solid enough effort by comparison and Margot got lost in the shuffle of an unusually strong Best Actress class. That’s all. Seriously, watch the other films in their categories and tell me which one doesn’t deserve to be there. You tell me which film gets the boot to let Margot and Robbie in. I bet you’re going to have as hard a time as I did trying to figure that one out.

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Unfortunate Opinion
Loved Cruella
#spoilers in tags#listen there was no forced heterosexual romance#all the crew had queer coding#the music was good#costumes were great\#emma stone went a bit ham on the accents but i stopped noticing after a while#like i do get the whole 'she was a villain and keep her a villain' thing i really do#but i've also never watched 101 dalmations so like#i dont have any real attachment to the source material#the cgi wasnt great but i watched a like 480p pirated version so that didn't matter#by the way use levidia . to if you wanna watch it#only the top link works lmao#like yeah the dalmation cliff scene was goddamn ridiculous but like#the whole movies kinda ridiculous#thats why its fun#its the 'obsessed artist' trope except she gets her shit together enough to live#like this is one of those movies where its damn near its entire own thing and they just needed the iconography of an already well known#character reminds me of like spiderman unlimited#did i mention the fact that other than teasing the 101 dalmation family theres only one other straight couple but hes dead#1000 times better than the live action cinderella one
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High Noon Leona is
Very good and I really like it
Suffering from Same Face Syndrome problems where, like, if you took away the shield and told me this was a Morgana skin, I would have no way to prove you wrong looking just at the character design.
It's what happens when you systematically stylize the hell out of faces for the purposes of hitting a lowest common denominator. It also doesn't help that we can't even go by stuff like relative muscularity or body type, although in this case under all the costuming, body type wouldn't help that much anyway.
And it's so frustrating because even if you look JUST at "top ten sexiest celebrity white women" or whatever, you find a substantial range of difference in jaw line, lip shape, nose shape, eye shape, cheekbones, proportions, etc. etc. etc.
Much less than the general population, and photoshopped to hell and back in most publicished pictures, but even within the very narrow aesthetic range of idealized beauty there are ways to create variety and differentiation. You can tell Kiera Knightley from Emma Stone or Natalie Dormer, Emilia Clarke doesn't look indistinguishable from Scarlett Johansson. You wouldn't even lose out on the character being conventionally beautiful if it's so fucking important that every single goddamn one of them be that.
What is frustrating about this old and dead horse, which I will never stop kicking no matter how much it stinks, is that I know for a goddamn fact that Riot's artists can do much better than this, and often try to. It is the relentless erosion of the corporate feedback process that both sands away every interesting differentiator in the art that's created, and that conditions artists to only pitch the safe, middle-of-the-road ideas because they learn what gets accepted and try to anticipate the changes they'll be asked to make anyway.
On top of which, remember when Sivir had a front tooth gap in her new splash art and the subreddit shit and pissed their pants about it so hard that Riot eventually had to change it because they thought it was "ugly"? Remember when Katarina got a new splash art with a face that accidentally had some personality and a bunch of crying pissbabies ruined that for everyone as well?
I really don't blame the artists for not wanting to pitch anything more bold, but I sure as shit blame the company for failing to protect and support their creative staff.
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Ice Pond Thou Art, to Ice Pond Returneth: Let's Finish(?) Tears of the Kingdom
We're finishing the plot, anyway. All of the spoilers!
Sidequest clean-up time! I am getting up to such antics
Monster decorations: check

Freezing my tits off in the desert while holding up a giant mirror: check

House? check!

I'm sorry but I am literally 12 years old right now:

I wasn't going to chase after dragon!Zelda just yet but she appeared literally right in front of me so I figured I might as well hitch a ride on her and make Link sad.
Da-da-da-daaaa in a minor key:

For some reason I'd been assuming I couldn't dye my sexy thunder shawl but nope! What lovely news for me and fashion aficionados everywhere!
Puzzling with the Boner Squad

I'M STILL 12

A lot of people just come out around me! It's a gift.

Sure do!

Truly, no one can resist my charms.

Bitch I DELVED:

I know I said collecting all the bubbul gems would be my Cruella de Vil origin story, so call me Emma Stone because I have lost my entire goddamn mind. Fewer than 20 remain and Koltin is no longer offering me hints for some reason? Whatever, I'm not doing it for him anymore. I'm doing it for ME.
I have looked up a map of caves and I WILL spelunk each one, mark my words
Oh right we got some caves in the GODDAMN SKY, WHERE CAVES DON'T BELONG
I'm fine I'm fine
One more and the eye strain ends. Squinting from the map on my laptop to the in-game map on my TV. Oho, Death Mountain, I see you now!
FUCKEN GOT EM

Shine on, you crazy diamond bubbul gem. Maybe someday I'll smack you around for rupees. Until then, I will think of you and your completionist nightmare sidequest every time I glide through the air with my fancy new paraglider pattern.


Okay I can finish the plot now
I am doing this final stretch of mini-dungeon the way the goddess intended: by throwing down my traveler's medallion and popping back for more sundelion dishes before getting back to it.
At long last I have killed a lionel, and I started with a gloom lionel because why not. Bitch was in my way.
Me when the sun rises before 7:00am:

Let's see how many Ganon phases we get! Dueling Ganon. Big Hair Boner Squad Ganon. Big Hair One-on-One Ganon. Ganon Become Dragon.
Why does everyone but Link get to scarf down a tasty magatama treat? UNFAIR
At least I look good thrashing around between Ganon's giant dragon teeth:

Took me a second to realize what I was meant to be doing but this was a pleasantly cinematic fight phase with lots of catching little rides on Zelda's big fuzzy dragon head.
Game removed my good hat >:( but also removed my shirt :) so I feel like we're half on the same page.

Guess we're not getting an ending where Link joins Zelda on an eternal draconic frolic, which on the one hand, yes, my girl deserves a happy ending, but on the other, "dragon" is a whole new gender spectrum Link should get to explore.
Game ALSO removed my cool arm. :< Now how am I gonna remodel my house?
Grabbing Zelda as she falls would be a lot easier with Ultrahand, just sayin
At this point, is Zelda, like Marvin from Hitchhiker's Guide, older than the universe itself? My girl's been through it
My robot girlfriend is moving on to robot girlfriend heaven. This too is yuri.
And I am moving on to fucking around endlessly, but first, there's only one way I can end this, right?
Back to the ice pond, baby. I made myself a little blue cultist outfit and everything:


That's all, folks!
#stealthnoodle plays loz: tears of the kingdom#tears of the kingdom#totk spoilers#video#apologies to florence + that machine of hers#what a good game#my dreams will be haunted indefinitely by bubbul gems in hard to reach places#no i have still not figured out the actual purpose of the ice pond#no i will not look it up#yes i will probably throw myself into it again
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Candlelight
The finishing piece for Emma, featuring Levi and Henry in sexy butler outfits, Duck in a tux, and our favorite fish girl! As ever, Laura and the designs in mind belong to @asktrio516. However, Levi belongs to @captsharkb8.
I'm not sure why I made Henry and Levi argue so much, I'm sure they're great friends, I just thought it was funny XD
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Laura sucked in a deep breath. Looking up at the old dilapidated building in Arlesburgh, she gulped. Henry and Emily had told her to come here for her meeting with Duck. She was nervous out of her mind. It was the first time she'd come to see him since Diesel had convinced her about-
No. She wouldn't think about that little shit anymore. He lied to her. Things were getting better. Everyone, even Sir Topham Hatt, had told her that she and Duck deserved to be together. Even Gordon and James had come around eventually. Diesel had been put back in his place by Hatt. (And the Trucks, with a wonderful rendition of Pop goes the Diesel.) This was the final step. Her making up with Duckie.
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The sight inside stunned her. It was like a dream come true.
The former warehouse had been turned into the perfect dinner-for-two fancy restaurant. Candles lit the area, flickering and casting beautiful shadows all over the walls. A small circular table, covered in a white silk tablecloth, sat in the middle of the room with two chairs set up for dinner. Best of all? Her Monty sat in one of the chairs, in an amazing tuxedo, wearing the biggest, goofiest smile she'd ever seen.
She normally didn't care about clothes, but she was starting to feel under dressed in just her white bardot top and blue striped shorts.
She wanted so badly just to rush at him and attack him with kisses and love, but she tried her best to keep composed, simply walking over to the table and sitting down on the other side.
"Hey, Duckie," she whispered, grinning.
"Evening, angelfish," he said, with that accent that made her swoon. "Not going to lie, I was worried you wouldn't show up."
She giggled. "I wouldn't have missed seeing you in that in a million years."
She took her opportunity to get a good look (the suit did show off his best features...) before heavy feet clomping across the stone floor made her look around. To her surprise, it was Levi, dressed to the nines in a- butler suit? Carrying a notepad? But of course, he still wore his hat.
"Hullo, ya two lovelies! I'm Levi, and I'll be serving you tonight! Any specific drinks I can get for ya?"
Duck chuckled. "Water for two, dear?"
"Uh, yeah, that works."
Levi tipped his hat to them and disappeared again. Laura glanced at Duck.
"I asked Levi, Henry, and Emily for a little help," he explained. "They're the ones who set all this up. I don't know how they did it to be honest, I wasn't expecting them to go this far."
"If they have a piano in here, I swear to God-"
As if on cue, soft piano music cut Laura off, drifting through the large warehouse. It was nowhere to be seen, but both of them knew it was Henry playing. The man was a virtuoso, in Gordon's words.
"GODDAMN IT HENRY!" They heard Levi shout. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO START PLAYING AFTER DINNER!"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, LEVI!"
Both the engine and mermaid burst out laughing. Levi provided them both with full glasses of water on a steel serving tray, looking mighty pissed.
"Shrimp salad for the lovely lass, and clam chowder in a bread bowl for you, sir?"
"You know us so well, Levi," Laura giggled.
"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go whack Henry for being a dumbass."
Not only was the food and service on point, the entertainment was spectacular.
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After Duck and Laura had eaten (and Henry had been whacked), a slow piano song floated through the room. Duck gently took Laura's hand in his own and kissed it.
"May I have this dance?"
"You shining knight," she chuckled. "You may."
Taking her waist in his other hand, the two began gliding across the room in time to Henry's music. Guitar plucking slowly joined in, courtesy of the cowboy train.
"You said Emily helped with this, where is she?" Laura asked.
"Not a clue," he admitted. "I think she was the one who cooked? I dunno, I know Levi didn't, he can't cook for shit."
"I HEARD THAT, QUACK-TANGLE!"
"Shut up!" Henry hissed. "We're trying to make this romantic!"
Laura rolled his eyes. "Well, they're pissed tonight."
"Not sure why. This is the best night ever," Duck whispered.
A small blush came over Laura's face. This seemed like the best time.
"I'm sorry, Duckie," she muttered. "For everything."
"Angelfish, you've got nothing to be sorry for," Duck told her, eyebrows furrowed. "It was Diesel's fault, not yours."
"But I still-"
"Shhhh," he whispered, holding a finger up to her lips. "Being guilty gets you nowhere. Everything's worked out, see? I have the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my arms right now. And I have no intention of letting you go again. You are mine. And that is what matters right now."
A tear welled up in her eye. "Goddamn it Duckie, why are you so sappy?"
He chuckled. "Just a gift, I guess."
She stopped them both and threaded a yellow spotted hand through his green hair. "Well, I have another gift for you."
That goofy grin she loved so much cracked open again. "Oh really?"
The following kiss was the best of their lives.
================================================
(I should've left it where it was sweet and happy, but no, I just had to add one more bullshit thing of Levi and Henry)
"Ain't they a purty picture?" Levi asked.
Henry nodded. "I'm just glad everything's worked out."
"Indeed."
Levi glanced over to his taller, greener friend. "Y'know, you should keep that thing."
Henry glanced down. He was wearing a similar butler uniform to Levi's and he looked damn sexy in it. "What? Why? I'd never wear it."
"Oh, but I think Big Black would love to see you in it," the Old Western engine chuckled.
Henry blushed. Big Black was Levi's nickname for Hiro. "And I'm sure Ella would love to see you in that one."
"I do look damn good, don't I?"
Henry deadpanned. "Don't start acting like James.
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