#Top Things to Do in Malaysia

[holidaymyplanet]

From the vibrant streets of Kuala Lumpur to the tropical beaches of Langkawi, discover 15 exciting activities to try with friends in Malaysia in 2025. Whether you’re into nature, shopping, or adventure, Malaysia has something for everyone.

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

The Oriental Blue Clearwing Moth: these moths were regarded as a "lost species" for more than 130 years, until they were finally sighted again in 2013

For more than 130 years, the Oriental blue clearwing moth (Heterosphecia tawonoides) was known only from a single, badly damaged specimen that was collected in Sumatra in 1887. There were no recorded sightings of this species again until 2013, when entomologist Dr. Marta Skowron Volponi unexpectedly found the moths feeding on salt deposits that had accumulated along the riverbanks in Malaysia's lowland rainforest.

These moths were observed by researchers again in 2016 and 2017, and research indicates that the moths are actually bee-mimics, as they mimic the appearance, sound, behavior, and flight patterns of local bees. Their fuzzy, bright blue appearance might seem a little out of place for a bee-mimic, but those features do appear in several different bee species throughout Southeast Asia.

When the moths are in flight, they bear a particularly strong resemblance to the bees of the genus Thyreus (i.e. cuckoo bees, otherwise known as cloak-and-dagger bees), several of which are also bright blue, with banded markings, dark blue wings, fuzzy legs, and smooth, rounded antennae. The physical resemblance is compounded by the acoustic and behavioral mimicry that occurs when the moths are in flight.

Cloak-and-Dagger Bees: the image at the top shows an Indo-Malayan cloak-and-dagger bee (Thyreus novaehollandiae) in a sleeping position, holding itself upright with its mandibles clamped onto a twig, while the image at the bottom shows a Himalayan cloak-and-dagger bee (T. himalayensis) resting in the same position

The moths also engage in "mud-puddling" among the various bees that congregate along the riverbanks; mud-puddling is the process whereby an insect (usually a bee or a butterfly) draws nutrients from the fluids found in puddles, wet sand, decaying plant matter, carrion, animal waste, sweat, tears, and/or blood. According to researchers, the Oriental blue clearwing moth was the only lepidopteran that was seen mud-puddling among the local bees.

Dr. Skowron Volponi commented on the unusual appearance and behavior of these moths:

You think about moths and you envision a grey, hairy insect that is attracted to light. But this species is dramatically different—it is beautiful, shiny blue in sunlight and it comes out during the day; and it is a master of disguise, mimicking bees on multiple levels and even hanging out with them. The Oriental blue clearwing is just two centimeters in size, but there are so many fascinating things about them and so much more we hope to learn.

This species is still incredibly vulnerable, as it faces threats like deforestation, pollution, and climate change. The president of Global Wildlife Conservation, which is an organization that seeks to rediscover "lost species," added:

After learning about this incredible rediscovery, we hope that tourists visiting Taman Negara National Park and picnicking on the riverbanks—the home of these beautiful clearwing moths—will remember to tread lightly and to take their trash out of the park with them. We also recommend that Americans learn about palm oil production, which is one of the primary causes of deforestation in Malaysia.

Sources & More Info:

Phys.org: Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth Buzzes Back to Life After 130 Years

Mongabay News: Moth Rediscovered in Malaysia Mimics Appearance and Behavior of Bees to Escape Predators

Journal of Tropical Conservation Science: Lost Species of Bee-Mimicking Clearwing Moth, H. tawonoides, Rediscovered in Peninsular Malaysia's Primary Rainforest

Frontiers in Zoology: Southeast Asian Clearwing Moths Buzz like their Model Bees

Royal Society Publishing: Moving like a Model - mimicry of hymenopteran flight trajectories by clearwing moths of Southeast Asian rainforests

Medium: Rediscovery in a Glint of Blue

re:wild.org: The "Search for Lost Species" Project

[lily-bisque]

៹ your fiancé!nanami was currently resting against the backboard of your shared bed, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he turned the page of the travel guide he was perusing. dream destination: malaysia. who would’a thunk?

the image of a stoic, poised, aloof man was wearing his pajamas and indulging in his nightly reading before he tucked in and then awoke for another procedural day on the job as a salaryman.

it was something you’d been incredibly drawn to, his calm and assertive demeanor radiating off of him in waves that had you shuddering from the impact.

maybe you were ovulating, maybe you were in love (definitely the latter at least) but something in you wanted to chip away at that temperament, piece by piece, until the true nature of him was displayed in all it’s vulnerable glory.

pacing over to him, you quietly plucked his book from his hands and closed it without a word, then placed it on the nightstand. peering up at you, he gave you a perplexed yet patient look, wondering what the sudden act of yours meant.

tossing a leg over him, you made yourself comfortable on his lap, your beige, silky chamise shifting while you did so. naturally, your fiancés hands found themselves on your hips as he glanced up at you, still the graceful image of apathy in sights.

with gentle fingers, you found yourself tugging his frames off and folding them with slow deliberation before setting them atop his book. returning to him, you brushed the blonde tresses of his hair that you’d managed to muss out of their perfect positioning.

“what’s up with you, my love?” he crooned, allowing you to twirl strands of his hair whilst admiring your delicate beauty.

“i wanna try something,” you muttered, before leaning forward and pressing your lips against his in an affectionate kiss.

a rumble of approval thrummed in his chest as he lifted a hand up to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair to pull you closer but you did the opposite, lips pulling apart.

with the sudden distance, nanami furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, still giving you the space to do things as you wanted.

“wait here,” you whispered with a jocular lilt, before pushing off of him and padding over to the wardrobe with a skip in your step.

you searched his drawer before your eyes matched what you were looking for and pulled it out before walking back to him, the mysterious prize concealed behind your back.

“what’re you hiding?” he quirked, the faintest expression of mirth dancing in his eyes as he squinted at you.

you couldn’t hide the evident excitement simmering beneath your skin as you displayed your hands clad in fabric.

the familiar leopard print tie stared back at him, rather two sets of his signature look in your hands. “i’m not working until the morning, sweetness,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“i know,” you drawled out, stepping back to his bedside and running a hand up his forearm. the touch sent a tingle dancing down his spine, causing his breath to hitch, the lust in the air palpable.

your fingers trailed up to his button top and began undoing them slowly, your heart racing as you donned a dominant front. nanami had a feeling that was where you were going with this, so he was going to let you have fun with it before he’d take over.

yet, he didn’t know that that was not exactly what you had in mind.

once you’d tugged his top off, you grabbed both of his wrists and straddled him once more, placing his hands above his head and grabbing his tie to secure a knot around the railings.

a sudden huff of surprise left his lips as he cocked his head, peering up to admire your quick handiwork as if you’d been practicing for days then meeting your gaze again. “what’s all this?”

once you’d finished, you dropped your hands and watched as he attempted to pull his hands free but it was fruitless. you would be the only one able to loosen it. “you’ll see, ken,” you drawled out before settling your bare cunt atop his clothed crotch.

nanami inhaled sharply, veins in his forearms protruding at the sudden pressure as his cock hardened, the only barrier between his cock and your sex being his pajama slacks and briefs. and to make him even more sensitive, you trailed a finger down his bare chest, outlining the ridges and crevices of his abs.

he couldn’t help but flinch, the sharp edges of his tie digging into his skin as he writhed. “baby, undo these,” he gritted tersely through his teeth, fearing he may crack a tooth if this went on any longer.

and as the brat you were so adamant on being tonight, you shook your head and reached out to the comforter where you found the other tie you’d brought with you.

nanami eyed you carefully, his skin simmering with an impatient feverish desire. “and what could that be for?” he breathed out.

you didn’t give him the appreciation of a reply, simply sending him your prettiest doe eyes and reaching your hands up to his head.

with the most careful ministrations, you wrapped the tie around his head, making sure you didn’t tug on any hair while you did so.

“oh, sweetness. you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” nanami whispered his breath hot against your neck as you finished the wrapping.

settling back down against his hips, you palmed the tent in his pants, watching as his lips parted and head tilted back. “maybe.”

before you came in, you were planning on drawing this entire night out with him, teetering him on the edge of a peak until he couldn’t handle it anymore.

but now, with your slick nearly pooling onto your fiancé, you needed to feel him inside of you.

which was what led you tearing his briefs and slacks off completely, wrapping your hand around the girth of his shaft and taking him whole down your throat.

“oh,” nanami groaned, lurching forward as he tugged so hard against the restraints you feared he would break the bed. yet, it didn’t stop you bobbing your head up and down his length, tongue tracing the veins with your tongue like braille you were trying to decipher.

“s-slow down,” he rasped out, tone low as he struggled to maintain a semblance of his dignity, his body convulsing with need.

you did quite the opposite, feeling the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat with each filling thrust.

after another two minutes of you gagging and sputtering a mess all over his lap, the scratchy hairs at the base of his dick brushing against your nose, ribbons of his seed shot from his slit and straight down your throat. a loud groan of your name left nanami’s lips as he tossed his head back, thighs trembling under your hands that kept him down.

after licking up every drop of his cum, you let out a giggle and crawled back on top of him, immediately connecting your lips. a satisfied and fucked out smile plastered on his face as he kissed you back, holding back a chuckle at your antics whilst tasting himself.

“so you are trying to kill me,” he smirked, and you ran your tongue against his lower lip.

your hand found its way to his near flaccid dick, stroking it and you could hear how sensitive he was in the way he whimpered out immediately. you were giving him no break as you aligned his tip with your entrance and sank down, the stretch nearing painful as the pressure filled every nook.

“ngh, sweetness. t-too much,” he sighed, voice an octave higher than earlier.

you moaned in satisfaction, tossing your head back as your hands found purchase against his shoulders. once you reached the base and felt his pubes brushing against your hood, you shuddered, lifting yourself up again and dropping down to feel that sweet fullness.

“oh, ken. s-so mgggh so good,” you sighed out, tossing your head back and pushing your bosom against his face. the guy was definitely bruising his wrists as each tap of his tip against your cervix had him dizzy, the overstimulation causing each muscle in his body to tense.

“i’m g-gonna-“ you clasped a hand against his mouth and rode him faster, your mind spinning with lust.

“don’t. shut up,” you moaned out, feeling your thighs burn with the exertion.

his warm breath fanned onto your palm as his eyes rolled back into his skull beneath the eye covering. if it weren’t for you straddling him completely, he’d start thrusting upwards, but due to his restraints he was entirely submissive.

a muffled whimper left him and you pulled your hand back to see drool trickling from the seam of his kiss bitten lips, making you push forward and clasp his shoulders to quicken your pace.

“almost t-there, wait for me mmmmf,” you groaned out into his mouth as black dots began to fuzz your vision.

though he gave you an obedient nod, you could tell he was balancing precariously close to being tipped over into an orgasm. which is fine, since that coil in your gut began quicker.

“come with me,” you demanded, tugging his lower lip with both of your teeth and he obeyed immediately, stuttering out your name with a loud gasp as his member twitched inside you.

ropes of semen pushed up into your cervix, painting your gummy walls white with his seed.

the way he filled you was so delicious, it had you digging your nails into his shoulders deep enough to leave marks as you clenched so hard, a ring of arousal around the base of his cock mixed with his cum.

fucked out, you dropped your head forward and into the crook of nanami’s neck, feeling your breaths sync up as his cock stilled inside of you.

“my girl,” he whispered out, his face flushed and shimmering with afterglow. “didn’t know you were so…” he trailed off, the rare image of his lips tugging upwards.

you reveled in it, placing a tender kiss against his jaw before pulling away.

“don’t worry. i’ve got more to show you.”

[unintentionalseductress]

Livestream

Warnings: MDNI, camera fucking, just sex in general

A/n: IDEK. I was horny. *goes to horny jail*

You thought you had made it. You had convinced Kento to move to Malaysia, leaving behind sorcery for good. But of course, there came the question, how were you going to afford living there?

Even a country with a low cost of living wasn't free and you knew Kento would rather eat glass than go back into stocks and put his finance degree to use. You had savings sure, but neither of you wanted to live very frugally.

One evening, as the both of you came close to finishing your third glass of wine, you were visited by an insane thought. As Kento started pulling off your clothes, his lips tasting sweetly alcoholic as he played with your nipples, an idea came into your inebriated brain. As his mouth started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, you slurred, "Kento why don't we do a live sex stream? People pay for that kinda thing ya know."

"Do they now?" His lips latch onto a nipple and suckle, eliciting a moan from you.

"They do. I think we could do it. All we have to do is set up a cam and register on a website."

He lets go of your moistened nipple with a plop, using his spit as lube to circle the hardened peak with his fingertip as he contemplates your words as best as he could.

"You think people would pay to watch us have sex?"

"It could be really hot. We won't see any of them. But imagine us, turning on all those people, all of them getting the show of their lives because we're not shy to show them what we could do."

As you continued to dirty talk to him it resulted in one of the best nights of sex you could remember. Both of you were into it, albeit, a little shy, to explore your exhibitionism kink so openly. However, with the agreement that if one didn't like the experience that you would stop, the both of you had registered on a website and started your live stream.

That was 2 months ago. Now with almost 25 thousand regular viewers, you and Kento fucked in front of the camera 3 times a week, and the money kept pouring in. You sometimes weren't even in your home, but at exotic locations, filming from fancy hotel rooms and gorgeous white sand beaches, not a care in the world.

It beat working a 9-5 and the both of you were good at it, no doubt. From just plain fucking to how-to's and a variety of other kinks such as bondage, edging, and male chastity, the viewers kept coming in and you were rolling in money. It was a dream come true. Getting paid for having sex with your partner. What else could you ask for?

You giggle as you set up for the next stream, the second bedroom in your house being put to good use. You agreed the bed you slept in together shouldn't be used for work and converting the second bedroom had been a good choice. As Kento undressed, preparing for the next stream, you adjust the camera to make sure it has the best views of the bed, and where your pussy would be when it was time.

"Feeling all right?" He strokes your hair as he checks in with you before you hit the "live" button.

"I am," you smile back at him and give him a soft kiss. "Let's do it."

And as you lay on the bed, Kento's broad body on top of yours, 25 thousand people from different parts of the world logged in, all of them putting in their credit card information as Kento fucked you, not a care in the world.

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[ruanbaijie]

we celebrated chinese new year recently and I decided to change things up a little by running around to different places on the different days I had to dress up to take pictures!

eve: black xinzhongshi collared shirt + calf-length mamianqun

day 1: red song dynasty top + black and red rose mamianqun

day 4: black xinzhongshi mandarin-collared shirt with green tassel + black and green phoenix mamianqun (i was lowkey trying to channel slytherin vibes here cos yknow year of the snake lol)

lantern festival +1 (my company had our cny dinner on this day we missed the final day by a day hahahah): white short-sleeved cross-collared top + blue twin phoenixes mamianqun

the three Ts that are clearly my biggest weaknesses: tumblr, tattoos, and taobao

anyway did up a little video on tiktok (here) documenting my hanfu/ hanfu-inspired cny outfit evolution from 2019 to 2025 (the wonders that adult money and make up tutorials on xiaohongshu can do)! accidentally typo-ed 2019 (should be year of the 🐖) instead 🤡 side note: the song is a really cute and 火 cny song produced by a group in malaysia (our neighbours!) for the year of the snake

[guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy]

i know the end - vettel

(gif not mine @usersewis)

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

summary: Sebastian came into your life in 2015 and left in 2020 - but you fell in love with him and he just wanted a championship.

themes/warnings: alcohol, ANGST, no use of y/n, description of a panic attack, unrequited love, waxing poetic about ferrari - can you tell they're my fav team, kimi mentioned, charles is here too !! THIS IS FICTION

wc: 3.6k

a/n: someone on tumblr said that ferrari is a haunted house with a picket fence and i have never stopped thinking about it since. i have also never stopped thinking about sebastian vettel - subcategory of seb thoughts is seb in ferrari. also still open to do requests - trying out this whole fic writing thing. will also need help with organising my blog if anyone is keen :)

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60713827

Sebastian joined Ferrari in 2015. The team were ecstatic to have the four time world champion join their ranks, determined to bring Ferrari back to its former glory. 

You were working on the strategy team, fairly new but established enough to be listened to on the rare occasion. 

You met Seb in the pre-season at his factory introduction. He made his speech, charming the floor with his near perfect Italian. He popped into the strategy meeting room during his tour, a war room that had become home for you with its laptops and papers spread out. Sebastian was the perfect gentleman, shaking hands with everyone, though you thought he may have held on a bit longer with you.

The season started soon after, the entire garage working overtime. You were given the opportunity to accompany the team at races, rather than being stuck at Maranello.This is how you became Sebastian’s favourite strategist. 

You’re not exactly sure when it happened. You made a good strategy call in Malaysia, a well timed pit stop in Hungary and by Singapore, the lion knew your coffee order from the Ferrari cafeteria, ensuring to always pass you some before a long meeting. 

Falling for Sebastian was drawn out, comprised of lingering greeting hugs, good conversation at team dinners, long nights at the factory and searing glances across foreign nightclubs. 

You didn’t realise it for a while, and you wouldn’t realise it until it was too late. The attention you received was perhaps just part of Seb’s charm, and he had the whole motorsport world wrapped around his infamous finger. 

2016 brought on a winless year for Ferrari, both Kimi and Sebastian unable to make it to that crucial top step. 

You found Seb at the back of the Ferrari motorhome after a particularly tough race, hiding between tyre stacks. You overheard his PR team scrambling to find him - you slipped out to the back unnoticed, knowing exactly where he was. 

The tyre stacks were sort of a shared place for you and Sebastian, free from the prying eyes of the world. The only person who knew about it was Sebastian’s head mechanic, who accidentally stumbled upon you two sharing champagne after a podium last year. 

I’ll be there soon. Sebastian recognised your footsteps before even looking up. 

You sat down beside him, trying to find the words while he absentmindedly played with his water bottle. 

I’m sorr-

I don’t want to hear it. 

Sebastian had never snapped at you. You knew the strategy calls were bad today, resulting in an ill timed pitstop and Sebastian falling through the other. This Seb, this was completely foreign to you. 

Seb stood and left, sparing no further glance at you. It was a punch to your gut. Did he blame you? Drivers were always temperamental, that you knew, but Sebastian had always been nothing but kind and mature with you. 

Your body went into autopilot mode, packing up what you can before the team debrief. 

Sebastian barely spared you a glance as everyone settled in for the debrief. Perhaps a sign that he calmed down during media duties, but you knew better than to play detective with another man’s emotions. 

Strategy seemed to be the biggest issue to tackle with your boss taking the lead. You half listened, taking notes occasionally until he mentioned your name. 

One of the plans you brought up in pre-race meetings was bold and daring. It was entertained, but ultimately shoved aside for what ended up happening during the race. However after witnessing what happened in the race, it would have gained the team some higher positions. 

Ferrari is a team, one where we win and lose together. Every aspect is just as important as each other. Admitting mistakes and learning for them is how the team gets stronger. 

The strategy admission had Sebastian sneaking glances at you for the rest of the meeting. You felt it, but you weren’t exactly ready to forgive yet. 

You returned to your home in Maranello without so much as another word to Sebastian. You were, however, greeted by a bouquet of peonies on your dining table, along with a note from the man you were so desperately trying not to think about.

By 7PM the same day, you and Seb were sharing a blanket on the couch and watching a romcom, having devoured pizza and now working your way through a giant bag of chocolate wafers. 

Unfortunately, Seb knew the way to your heart. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you realised that you never shared a conversation with him about Sunday and an even scarier thought, you had forgiven him. 

2017 saw you and Sebastian grow even closer. Movie nights at your apartment became the norm and Seb often took you to dinner on race weekends, despite your protests that the dinners were too fancy. He had to spoil his favourite strategist would always be his response. 

Sebastian returned to the top step of Monaco that year, the Italian anthem blaring across the track along with a chorus of devoted Tifosi. He sneaked off after the celebrations, pulling you with him to the tyre stacks, champagne bottle on the other hand. 

Seb passed you the bottle and you took a large sip, pushing down the thought that his lips were on it mere moments ago. 

Are you coming to the afterparty?

Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear? 

No party dress packed? Ye of little faith. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved the bottle back into his hands. The endless banter and teasing simultaneously made you forget about your feelings for Seb but also made you fall harder for him. 

Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He kissed your cheek and walked away. 

Cheek kisses weren’t new for Seb, having evolved from greeting hugs long ago. But “take care of it”? Well, he better not be doing what you were thinking. 

You returned to your hotel room to a large black box on your bed, an extravagant red bow tied around it with a handwritten note, definitely scrawled on by a tipsy Seb. 

The box revealed a red dress, and on top of it, another small box. You opened it and out dangled a small necklace with a heart charm. Engraved on one side was the number 5. Sebastian. 

Sebastian knocked on your door two hours later, dressed sharp and ready for the night ahead. He took you in, the dress he picked out was the perfect fit against your skin. There was however, one missing detail. 

The necklace? 

It’s a bit much, no?

Nonsense. 

Sebastian walked into your room and spotted the necklace on the bed. He took it out of its pouch and motioned for you to stand in front of the mirror. He stood behind, putting the necklace on you. His fingers ghosted over your neck, raising the tiny hairs on your skin. 

Team number 5. 

Sebastian kissed the side of your head and his fingers trailed down your arm to grab your hand. You followed him out in a daze to the elevator. 

The dim light of the elevator and Sebastian’s intoxicating cologne enveloping the cramped box. The elevator dinged, letting in more people. The sound woke you from whatever spell Sebastian cast. You counted down the floors until you had to leave the warmth of Sebastian’s side and his calloused hand around yours. 

Ground floor. The air was clearer as you exited the bubble - reality. Because despite everything, Sebastian wasn’t yours. He is Ferrari’s. You are Ferrari’s. For now, sharing a home would be enough. 

You never left Sebastian’s line of sight all night. Between partying with your girlfriends, sharing a drink with your boss and a few dances with Seb, the clarity in the haze of the club was Sebastian. 

As the night began winding down, Sebastian approached you at a booth. He was holding a mystery drink and his pupils were blown wide. He began blabbering about something Kimi did, the Finn possibly to blame for Sebastian’s current state. You took one look at him and began arranging a cab back to the hotel. 

You managed to drag a half asleep Sebastian back to his room. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you filled up a water bottle. You came back and found him spread eagle on the bed. At least he took his shoes off. 

Goodnight Seb. 

You were halfway out the room when you heard it. 

I love you.

You froze. Looking back, you saw Seb snoring peacefully, hugging a pillow to his chest. No, he’s drunk and sleeping. It wasn’t for you. It could’ve been for his bed for all you cared for. It didn’t matter, despite your heart wishing it was for you.

2018 was another successful year for Ferrari. Sebastian came home with five wins that year, placing second in the drivers standings and Kimi in third. All in all, you were quite proud of the team’s efforts that year and you knew you could unlock more of that potential. 

However, you could feel something bothering Sebastian. An itch that had been present all season. You had asked a few times, but Seb always insisted it was nothing. You knew Sebastian well enough by this point. You could read him, to an extent. But if he truly wanted to hide something, you would be helpless at getting it out. 

Sebastian invited you to stay at his farm in Switzerland for a week during the winter break. You happily obliged, having not seen him since wrapping up in Abu dhabi. You could use the tranquillity of farm life for a bit. 

Your days there were spent helping Sebastian with the animals. He taught you horse riding and you taught him baking. You let yourself get lost in that life, if just for a mere moment. Perhaps in some alternate universe, this was your home with him, that you weren’t only playing house for a week. 

You and Sebastian were laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sharing a bowl of attempted smores. It was your last night there before you had to jet off back to Maranello to begin pre season work. 

Seb got quiet, not exactly rare but it was different when something was on his mind. 

Would you ever leave? 

Leave where?

Ferrari.

No. Ferrari is home. 

Sebastian hummed, adding nothing more but deciding to bite into another smore. A bit of chocolate dripped onto his chin. You chuckled and wiped it off with your thumb.

Besides, you don’t need to worry about that new French kid. You’re still my favourite, world champion. 

Sebastian laughed, but you missed the melancholy in his eyes and the smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

Being a Tifosi came with many highs and lows - any balding Italian man can tell you that. It was felt even more within the team, especially for Sebastian this year. 

2019 saw the meteoric rise of Charles Leclerc, the predestined. He cemented his place as not only the future of Ferrari itself, but of the sport as well. 

Charles was full of energy and light. You grew fond of the kid and it was nice to have his company amidst the turmoil surrounding the team that year. 

You went into that year determined to get Sebastian his championship he so desperately craved. You were instead met by cheating rumours, bad calls, power shifting and well, an increasingly frustrated Sebastian. 

Sebastian who has been chasing that championship feeling for years. Sebastian who bleeds Ferrari red. Sebastian who is determined to bring the team back to the top. Sebastian, who is not quite yours, but you devoted your red heart to. 

Perhaps that’s how you ended up in this position. 

Sebastian pulled you into his driver’s room after a race. The habit has raised a few eyebrows from passing crew, but none have said a word. 

Nothing ever happened anyways. 

Seb would sit you on his couch and you’d listen. Listen as he rambled in a heinous mix of German, Italian and English. Listen as he let out his emotions after a race and all the lows he went through that weekend. 

You’d bring up some of these points to relevant crew members. It would be worked on and by the following race, it would be better. But it was never enough for Sebastian. 

You understood, he was supposed to bring Ferrari back, follow in the footsteps of his mentor and hero. It was an immense pressure and responsibility that has been carried for years. Now, the Italians have put their faith in his teammate, throwing him aside like an old toy. 

It was draining for you too, being subjected to this almost every weekend. It wasn’t your burden to bear, but this was Sebastian. He is still Rosso Corsa, and you weren’t one to deny a cry for help. 

Singapore rolled around, one of Sebastian’s favourites. He crossed the line in first place that night. You haven’t been so happy in months. 

Sebastian found you at your desk after media duties. You were still on the adrenaline high, but the tiredness began seeping back into your bones. You knew you weren’t sleeping well, the stress of the season getting to you and your eyes looked darker than ever. For Ferrari, the pain was always worth it. 

Come out tonight. 

Seb, I feel dead. 

And the race winner is personally inviting you. 

You could never resist him, which is how you have an extremely plastered Seb on your arm as you walk back to the hotel. Apparently being part of Team 5 also meant babysitting when he’s had one too many. 

I LOVE FERRARI! I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE! FORZA FERRARI! 

Sempre. 

May 2020. F1 was still on the break. The only place you went was your home in Maranello and occasionally the factory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian in months and to be honest, you haven’t heard from him as much as you wanted to. 

Then, the announcement. Sebastian Vettel to leave Ferrari by the end of the 2020 season. 

It came as a shock to you. Seb’s contract was up for renewal, you knew that. But he never said anything about leaving, at least, not to your face. And to find out from Instagram, rather than from the man himself, that was a whole other issue. 

You left several messages on Seb’s number over the next week, all remained unanswered. You knew he was a bit of a recluse sometimes, preferring quiet company over the glitz and glamour other drivers seemed to surround themselves with. Ignoring you however, that was unheard of. 

You asked some of Seb’s mechanics, but none have heard from him. You even asked Charles, but all he received was a polite thank you message. 

After a while, you gave up on contacting him. You knew better than to beg for a man’s attention, even Sebastian’s. It broke your heart to walk away, but you had to keep pushing and Ferrari needed to keep pushing. 

Red Bull Ring, Austria. The first race back was a much quieter environment than what you’ve been used to. Despite wanting to stay in Maranello, mainly to stay safe but also to avoid a certain German, your boss wanted you at the races. Who were you to deny the call of the Prancing Horse. 

You ignored him all weekend, refusing to make eye contact or be in his general presence at all. It was perhaps a bit petty, but you deserved to be after the last two months. 

Charles placed P2, a great result from the team for the first race back. You chatted to him at your desk after the race. Charles was a young man that had raw talent, immense passion and was wise beyond his years. You were lucky to call him a friend. 

Mid conversation, Charles glanced behind you. You knew exactly who was standing there, but he could wait his turn. 

You finished up with Charles, giving him a hug before he left. 

You stared at Seb standing awkwardly in the doorway. He shifted on his feet, for once not knowing what to say to you. 

Please say something. 

I have nothing to say to you. You’re the one who went radio silent for months. 

I’m sorry. 

You shook your head and looked away, not wanting him to see how much this affected you. 

I didn’t know how to tell you. 

Seb moved closer, stepping into your space. He reached out a shaky hand to yours. You gripped his, you couldn’t help it. A silent sob escaped your body. 

Come with me. 

You whipped around, searching his pleading eyes. 

Come with me. To Aston Martin. 

His other hand came up to the side of your head, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears on your cheek. 

Come with me. I need you. 

His hand brushed down the side of your neck, fingers finding the necklace he gifted all those years ago. 

Team 5. That’s our home. Please. 

Sebastian fiddled with the charm. He found the engraved 5 turned around, no longer facing outward like how you’ve always worn it. 

You took Sebastian’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to it. 

Ferrari is my home. I can’t come with you. 

You dropped his hand and looked anywhere else but him. You couldn’t bear to see the tears welling in his eyes. 

Please leave. 

Sebastian walked out, hesitating at the door. He took a last look at you and left. 

You let the cries come out. Every emotion you’ve kept the last few years came out in a tidal wave. 

You felt an arm wrapping around your shoulders, recognising Charles’ hand. He helped you to the floor and let you lean against him. 

I’m sorry. 

You requested to be transferred to Maranello for the rest of the season, citing health concerns. The team was sad to see you go, many of them enjoying your company on long race weekends. 

You only saw Sebastian in passing for the rest of the year, heard about him from mechanics, through strategy feedback and once from Charles. He knew not to press, but you didn’t miss the occasional flicker of sympathy from his eyes. 

Sebastian came by the factory after the season ended, a formal goodbye to Ferrari. There was food and drinks passed around and some quick speeches made. 

Sebastian was the last to come forward. 

It has been my dream to race for the Scuderia since I was a boy. Here I stand now, as a Ferrari driver for six incredible seasons. It still feels like cloud nine everytime I get to walk into this beautiful place and be greeted by the passion from every single one of you. I thank you all for the hard work you’ve put in all these years. 

Sebastian took a breath, as if hesitating on what to say next. You found yourself waiting, a small part of you hoping for him to say something, anything that would allow you to forgive him. 

I want to say a special thank you to those who have been by my side. You know who you are. I know I haven’t always made it easy, and I am sorry for that. But I am eternally grateful for you. 

Sebastian’s eyes found yours in the crowd. You found yourself fiddling with the necklace for comfort, forcing your eyes to hold back tears. 

Thank you all. Forza Ferrari sempre. 

The crowd erupted in cheers, applauding Seb as he made his way back into the crowd. 

Your ears were ringing, vision blurry and the swell of the crowd was suddenly too much. Your feet relief on instinct, turning you around and leading you towards the exit. 

A hand found your arm as you reached the lobby. Charles. The youngster took one look at you and said something about a car and to wait. Your body curled into a ball as you heaved. 

This was it. Sebastian was leaving. Leaving Ferrari and the home you built in it, with him. And neither of you could muster the courage for a proper goodbye. What an irony, Ferrari who creates heroes and legends but two of their best and brightest are cowards with each other. 

A sleek black Ferrari pulled up to the front. The rumble of the engine was enough to push yourself to stand and stumble your way to Charles who had opened the door for you. 

You turned, taking a look at the building. Ferrari is always going to be home, but the people in it give it meaning. Sebastian left, and your sun set, but it will rise again soon. 

You were at the door and hesitated for the briefest moment. That was enough for Sebastian to come running into the lobby. 

You stood in the moonlight with windswept hair and teary eyes. From the distance, Sebastian could just make out the glimmer of the necklace he gave you all those years ago and the most important thought - you were still the most beautiful woman he ever got the chance to know. 

He loved you. Loves you. It was real all along, not some drunken stupor that he convinced himself it was all those years ago, hiding because it would be easier than to let himself fall. 

He understood. You were always by his side, and he was too late to notice it, much less be grateful for it. You can't forgive him now, and he’s caused too much harm. It would be selfish of him to keep you tethered.  

 He needs to let you go. 

Sebastian nodded at you from his frozen place in the lobby. This is the end. You touched your hand to your heart, where your necklace fell. In another life. 

[yaoi-enthusiasts]

"You, Me & Malaysia," - k. nanami

❛ ❜ kento nanami x f!reader - Part Two

❝Being married to Kento Nanami, meant a lot of sleepless nights, worried if he would come home in one piece, or if he'd come home at all. “Kento… What happened?” you whispered, trying to slide down to inspect it, but he held you tighter. “Shoko patched me up,” he said gently, brushing your hair back with a knuckle. “I just haven’t had time to take it off.” Shoko wouldn't be able to patch up a burned man, and neither could he.❞

cw ; mdni • 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. hurt. consent. smut . anxiety. almost death.

word count ; 2.5k

additional tags ; sorcerer au. married. kento almost dies in Shibuya.

main masterlist | part I | part III -end

The moment you stepped off the plane, something shifted. The air was warm and humid, fragrant with salt and jasmine. There were no sirens, no cursed energy vibrating beneath your skin. No heavy footsteps behind you. Just the sound of cicadas, waves in the distance, and the slow, unhurried rhythm of a place untouched by war. You moved into a modest but beautiful coastal house—a rental, white-walled and open, framed with dark wood and soft yellow lanterns that swayed in the breeze. The sea was five minutes away. Sometimes you could hear it from your bed at night. It was the farthest place from everything you’d known. And Nanami never complained. He didn’t say goodbye to anyone. He simply packed what little he wanted to keep, took your hand, and followed you here.

Nanami didn’t look like the man you remembered—not entirely. His face had changed. One eye was gone, the socket covered by a pale, smooth patch of scar tissue and a strip of black gauze. His body, once so precise and untouched, now bore fire-kissed reminders of the Halloween battle—up his back, down one side of his torso, and over the tops of his shoulders. But it wasn’t the physical change that made the silence between you ache. It was the way he moved. Measured. Cautious. Like he didn’t trust his own presence anymore. At night, you sometimes found him standing in the hallway. Staring at the wall. Or outside, barefoot in the sand, the moonlight kissing his scars while he lit a cigarette and stared into nothing.

He rarely touched you—not because he didn’t want to, but because he wasn’t sure if he could. He’d look at you sometimes like he was remembering something lost, something unreachable. The quiet hurt in his one remaining eye said more than words ever could. You loved him fiercely. But love didn’t always fill the space where grief sat.

Still, the two of you carved out new rituals. He woke up early to make you breakfast. Simple things—fruit, rice, eggs with soy and scallions—served on the shaded back patio. He brewed coffee strong and bitter for himself, you green tea, and brought it to you with a kiss to your temple, every day without fail. You started journaling again. He read more. Long afternoons would pass with both of you in the hammock together, your belly against his side, a book in his lap and your feet in his hands. He was quiet. But he was there. Present in a way that made your chest ache. “I never thought we’d have this,” you said one evening, curled beside him beneath a mosquito net as the waves whispered beyond the walls. “This peace.” He was silent for a long moment, then murmured, “I don’t think I deserve it.” You lifted your head, cupping his cheek. “You do. You always have.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, nodding once—but he didn’t answer.

You were eight months pregnant now. The weight of the baby made it hard to sleep, but the quiet tension between you and Nanami made the nights even harder. You hadn’t been intimate in months. Not since before Halloween. Not since the scars. The baby was conceived in a different life—before fire and loss, before hospitals and breathless panic in the dark.

You knew he wanted you. You saw it in the way he looked at your lips sometimes, in how his hand would linger a moment too long at your waist when he helped you out of the bath. But there was distance between want and action. And that gap grew heavier each day.

Some nights, your body ached—not just from pregnancy, but from need. From the weight of being touched only softly, platonically, when your heart screamed for more. For closeness. For the man who used to press you into the mattress and kiss every inch of you until you couldn’t breathe. One night, while he was drying your legs with a towel after a bath, you let out a soft, broken sigh. His hands stilled. “Is something wrong?” he asked, voice low. “I miss you,” you whispered. His hand twitched around the towel. You could see it—how he closed himself off. A protective instinct. “I’m here.”

“You are,” you agreed, gently. “But not all the way.” He set the towel aside and stood, jaw tense. He was fighting something inside him. “I’m not what I was.”

“I never asked you to be.” He turned toward the window, arms folded, as if ashamed. “I don’t know how to be close to you without feeling… like I’ve ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said, getting to your feet and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “You survived. You’re still you, Kento. I love you. I want you.” He bowed his head. His breath stuttered.

“I’m afraid I won’t be enough for you anymore.” Your chest cracked open at those words. You moved to stand in front of him, cupping his face gently. “You’re already enough,” you said, tears in your throat. “You just have to let me see you again.”

That evening, you took a walk down to the beach. The sky was navy and violet, the stars soft and scattered like salt. The moon glowed full above you, silver and bright. You held his hand. He didn’t let go. When you sat in the sand, he let you rest your head on his shoulder. His breath was calm now. The kind of calm that took months to learn again. “You’re still the only person I trust,” he said, his voice warm, deeper than before. “Even when I can’t trust myself.” You turned to look at him.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted. Still. Even now.” He reached for you. Touched your belly. Kissed your lips so softly it broke your heart. That night, you went home and undressed slowly, together. No expectations. Just rediscovery. Scars and softness. Tenderness in silence. You let him explore you again—not with hunger, but reverence. And for the first time in a long time, he let himself be seen.

The bedroom glowed in the moonlight, filtered through the gauzy curtains that fluttered with the ocean breeze. Everything smelled like clean linen, salt, and the sandalwood oil you’d started using to soothe your skin. The moonlight cast silver over the sheets, and the rhythmic hush of waves beyond the open windows made the silence between you feel sacred rather than tense.

Nanami stood by the doorway, quiet, his broad shoulders tense beneath the open collar of his linen shirt. He had just helped you change into your cotton nightdress—loose, soft, clinging slightly to the swell of your belly. But neither of you had moved since then. You watched him, heart thrumming, and finally reached for the hem of the dress. His hand caught yours gently. “Let me,” he murmured. His voice was softer than you remembered it being. Lower. Roughened by time and silence. You dropped your hand and let him take over.

Nanami pushed the dress up slowly, knuckles brushing your thighs, your hips, the underside of your growing belly. His touch was reverent, almost cautious, as though unwrapping something fragile. His breath hitched when the fabric slipped over your breasts. You were bare beneath it. You hadn’t worn underwear in weeks—partly for comfort, partly because you had hoped. Hoped for this. Hoped he would want to look at you again like he used to. And now, he was.

His one eye drank you in. Not greedily. Not lustfully. But completely. As if memorizing every new curve, every soft swell of your pregnant form. His hand lifted slowly, then rested on your belly, thumb brushing the place where your skin stretched the most. “You’re even more beautiful now,” he whispered. Tears stung your eyes. “Kento…” He looked up at you. “I’m sorry it took me this long.” You shook your head. “I was never waiting for the perfect version of you. I was just waiting for you.”

Something cracked in him then—softly, like a window being opened after a long winter. He leaned forward and kissed you.

And this kiss was different than any before.

There was no rush. No buried urgency. Just mouths rediscovering the warmth of each other, slow and molten. His lips moved against yours with a softness that made your thighs clench. His tongue traced the shape of your lower lip before slipping between them, coaxing, exploring. You gasped into his mouth when he lifted you carefully into his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down like something holy. “I’ve missed you,” you whispered, hands stroking the sides of his neck. “Touch me. Please.” He shed his shirt slowly. Then the rest of his clothes. You had seen his scars before, but this was different. He let you look. Let you touch them—one hand tracing the burn that curved over his collarbone, the old wound by his ribs. His muscles jumped slightly under your fingers, but he didn’t flinch. He watched you. You whispered over his skin with your lips, your nose, your hands. And he let you.

When he leaned over you again, he was trembling slightly—not with fear, but restraint. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said against your jaw. “You won’t,” you promised, breathless. “Just go slow.” He kissed your neck, then lower, down the curve of your chest. When his mouth closed around your nipple—aching and swollen—your back arched off the bed. The gentle suction, the flick of his tongue, sent shocks through your core. You felt alive. Touched. Worshiped. He trailed kisses lower, pausing to press reverent ones across your belly. “You’re carrying so much,” he murmured, voice thick with awe. “And still you want me.”

“I’ve only ever wanted you.” His hands slid between your legs—gentle, firm, practiced. He parted you carefully, eyes locking onto your face as his fingers dipped between your folds. You were wet.

Soaked, actually—months of unspoken desire pooling between your thighs, your body greedy for him. Nanami inhaled softly through his nose, and you saw his restraint waver. “Touch me,” you begged, hips rising into his hand.

He did. One thick finger traced the length of your slit, circling your clit before pressing gently inside. You moaned, hands fisting the sheets. Another finger followed, curling just right. He moved slowly, pumping into you with care, listening to your sounds, watching your face, adjusting his angle until your moans turned into soft, broken pleas. And then he knelt between your thighs, his head bowing low.

You gasped when his tongue touched you—slow, broad, unhurried licks over your clit, drawing pleasure out of you in waves. He feasted on you with quiet reverence, groaning low in his throat at your taste, your warmth. When you came, it was with your hands in his hair and his name on your lips. He kissed your thighs gently after, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose up over you. His cock was hard and heavy, flushed dark with need, but he didn’t move until you cupped his face. “Please,” you whispered. “Make love to me.”

He closed his eye and let out a shaky breath. Then nodded. You opened your legs wider for him, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and tenderness. Your thighs trembled slightly as he lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. He took his time—watching your face, gauging every breath, every shift of your body. And then, he began to push in. Slowly. Inch by thick, aching inch.

You gasped as your body stretched to accommodate him, the months of absence making you feel the fullness even more. The pressure was intense—but welcome—like he was re-carving space inside you that had always belonged to him. You instinctively wrapped a leg around his waist, needing him closer, deeper. Nanami braced himself on one elbow beside your head, his free hand cradling your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as he sank fully into you.

“God…” he whispered, voice trembling. “You feel like home.” You whimpered beneath him, arms clutching his back, nails digging softly into his skin. “Don’t stop. Please.” His hips began to move—slow, deep rolls that made your breath hitch with every stroke. He was careful, reverent, as though rediscovering you with every thrust. His pelvis pressed against yours, slow friction sending pulses of pleasure up your spine. Every time he bottomed out, you felt the weight of him—his length dragging deliciously against your inner walls, his skin warm and damp against yours.

“I missed this,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and wrecked with feeling. “Missed you. Your warmth. Your sounds…” You moaned louder when he angled his hips just right, brushing your sweet spot with a deliberate thrust that made your toes curl. “Yes—right there, Kento…” He shuddered at the way you said his name—like a prayer, like a cry.

He kissed your forehead, then the soft trail down to your cheekbone, your jaw. His lips found your mouth again, and this kiss was different—hungry, aching, a little desperate. He sucked gently on your bottom lip as he thrust into you again, the rhythm building with quiet intensity.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently. His lips dropped to your neck, tongue tracing over your skin before he bit down just enough to make your breath hitch. “You’re mine,” he whispered, hips grinding slowly, purposefully. “All of this… still mine.” You cried out, your body tightening around him, eyes fluttering closed as the pressure inside you built.

“Y-Yes, Kento—yours… always yours…” His hand trailed down your side, over the curve of your belly, then between your thighs. His thumb found your clit with practiced ease, circling in slow, perfect pressure. You jerked under him, body arching into the touch. He was whispering to you as you spiraled higher—soft, filthy things said with so much love: “Let go for me… I want to feel you… so perfect like this…” “Been dreaming about being inside you…” “Want to see you come with my name on your lips…” You were trembling, breath coming in fast, shallow bursts. His thrusts stayed deep and steady, his thumb moving just a little faster now, the tension in your body coiling tight and hot. And then it broke.

You came with a cry, your walls clenching around him, your thighs squeezing his hips. Pleasure rolled over you in waves, shattering and beautiful. Nanami groaned above you, burying his face in your neck, his pace faltering as your orgasm pulled him over the edge with you. “Fuck—” he choked out, thrusting once, twice more before burying himself to the hilt and coming inside you. You felt the warmth of him fill you—thick and hot—and it made your core flutter again, sensitive and overwhelmed. He didn’t pull out right away. Instead, he lied there, still joined with you, cradling you as your heartbeats slowed in tandem. His forehead rested against yours, breath brushing your lips.

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Even when I couldn’t touch you… I never stopped.” You cupped his face, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I know. I never stopped either.” And there, tangled together with the sound of waves outside and the scent of sex and salt in the air, you held each other like two people finally finding their way back home.

[brawngp2009]

"a hundred watchful eyes"

seb/nico, gen, 750 words. early 2010's, based on a prompt "53: Wings/supernatural body features", written for @25points.

In the public eye looks were everything, and if you had wings they were everything too. A lot of people said that Nico was really lucky; he's got both: angelic looks and gorgeous snow white wings, like a swan, like his father. But whenever he saw Sebastian a pang of envy pierced right through his chest.

Sebastian’s wings didn’t compare Nico’s – smaller and absolutely not as gorgeous. His wings were of golden ochre colour with white specks and black dots, like eyes. Always in control and also sort of angelic, but in a biblical sense, with righteous wrath. And where Sebastian’s wings lacked beauty; they made up for in skill, they were precise and moved silently.

Sebastian’s father didn’t have wings, no one from his family did, but everybody knew he was going to be one of the greatest because his wings were so similar to Michael’s. This was another source of Nico’s woes alongside being a son of champion, amongst other things. Sebastian was so similar to Michael in ways Nico could never be.

Nico finished third that day, Malaysia 2010, which felt amazing. Standing on the podium always felt so. And it was the first time he did it with Sebastian. Nico’s racing was always technical and consistent and he felt like he could do better than Michael even if he still scared him off track. But whilst he was about to surpass the idol of the olden days, he could sense that Sebastian was on the rise and Nico couldn’t keep up.

“May I touch your wings?” he asked quietly, when they found themselves alone in the corridors set behind the podium walls. It was not an ordinary thing to ask a fellow driver, but if Sebastian declined, Nico thought, he would just apologize and move on with his life the best he can.

“Sure!” the smile on Sebastian’s face could illuminate a night race. “But only if I can touch yours,” he chuckled, unzipping his overalls.

Managing the wings as a racing driver was a whole another ordeal. They looked frail, much like the racing cars themselves, but as well as the cars they were actually very sturdy and most importantly very powerful. Not all drivers even had wings, but most of the champions did, and it was an unspoken rule of sorts that the champions have wings. Simple as that. Out of champions who raced alongside Nico only Lewis didn’t have them.

Every driver who had wings coped in different ways, and as Sebastian took the top half of his overalls off, Nico could see the slits cut neatly in his nomex undershirt and his little ochre wings threaded through them and folded neatly over his back. There were no restraints other than overalls.

“You don’t tie them to your body?” Nico asked, watching Sebastian roll his shoulders as his wings twitched and unfolded in front of him. A hundred watchful eyes staring right into Nico’s soul.

“No, why would I?” Sebastian laughed, and the golden feathers shuffled as if his wings were laughing too. “You can touch them, they are nothing special,” the wings calmed down as Sebastian waited for the touch.

The feathers were firm, but soft and seemed almost warm to the touch. They were tucked in very neat rows and Nico could tell that Seb takes very good care of them. He hummed as Nico stroked the feathers slowly and carefully. Sebastian didn’t tie them and they didn’t bother him. How strange, Nico thought. His own wings were often causing more trouble than he’d like to, shifting and wrestling their way out, and that’s why he had to tie them to his body sometimes with extremely soft custom made belts.

“Thank you,” Nico said quietly, taking his hand away, even though his fingers still longed for the touch. They are very beautiful,” he added, rubbing his palms together to get rid of the soft sensation, to forget how the touch of Sebastian’s wings feels.

“No problem,” Sebastian smiled at him, but kind of shy this time, not a blinding beaming smile, but still illuminated and glowing. “They are not a match to yours though,” he chuckled, watching as Nico undid the zipper of his overalls.

“Yeah, they are not,” Nico answered as he went through the ordeal of taking the top half of the overalls and nomex undershirt off and proceeded with undoing the belts that kept his wings close to his body. And maybe it was never about the wings.

[seneon]

Hero!Dabi x k-pop idol!reader 🙏😫

★ the hero boyfriend and idol girlfriend, dabi.

the all-knowing dabi of the top ranked pro heroes. would the world be in absolute calamity when it knows that he's in a soul-tied relationship with the all-knowing k-pop idol— you? will the world come to accept the unexpected or fear and twist the unexpected?

first time the occurrence was made public was during one of your concerts— a tour around all of southeast asia and this tour was held in the city of kuala lumpur, malaysia. not long after your group began your show, villains have wreaked havoc upon the venue. god forbid that you are just like the other citizens there, for the villains have targeted your poor soul who is of innocence.

as you were hauled into the air from the stage below, the tentacles or arm or a slime-like thing of the villain was burned off with precision. and there you see the angered face mixed in with a cocky smirk that was carved at the corner of his lips.

gravity was never your friend. so you start to fall. but thank heavens, your super awesome pro hero dabi caught you just in time before you reached the ground and was about to plunge to death.

"touya!" you exclaimed and embraced him in primal fear, feeling his arms wrapped around your form as he leaned into you and gets a swift sniff of your hair. "you okay, y/n? sorry i was late. malaysians are demanding protection everywhere the moment i stepped in."

you pulled away and nodded, adding on a little hum. "m' okay. why are you here anyways?! you're stationed in japan!"

touya, hero name dabi, shots you a mischievous smile. "just wanted to see my girl perform in her first seasia show. you're doing great by the way. absolutely gorgeous. i'd snatch you off the stage and savour in your beauty but that'd ruin your group's show."

"weirdo. thanks for saving me. love you lots, touya," you chuckled and then cameras clicked. but nothing was ever confirmed by either you nor the hero. it'd be better for everything to just be rumours than to indulge in everyone's fantasies anyways.

note. this idea is way too good to not write 😳😳

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[libraryofloveletters]

The Same Shade Of Red

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: monza 2020 (double dnf for the boys in red), so much angst sorry, redbull comparisons for seb, the magic that is monza, the disaster that is ferrari and their team, talks of seb's races in monza, a few harsh/sad thoughts from seb, mentions of retirement, charles's crash in monza 2020, mentions of the pandemic, reader is the most loving wife to which seb is her perfect match, britta is sooo over you guys after years of this.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: would I be me if I didn't take monza race weekend and turn it into an ode to seb? no. ferrari seb you will always be my most beloved and fuck you ferrari for hurting my husband fr. (also this gif is so sexy I can't explain it. well I can but I will be banned from tumblr dot com)

---

Monza held a special place in the heart of your husband, in yours and in anyone that was a part of the Vettel family.

Sebastian had proven his worth, winning his and Toro Rosso's first ever Grand Prix in Monza during the 2008 season.

It was no different when he moved to Red Bull from Toro Rosso, his era of dominance brought him win after win and two of which were in Monza; the home of Ferrari.

Ever since that first win, Sebastian held a special love for Monza, as did you. There's something magical about the place; it might be the atmosphere or the fans but it has always been good to you and Seb. Whatever it was, it was nothing if not remarkable every single time.

The Tifosi held their drivers to the highest of standards, some would say next to God. Something happens to Italy when motorsport comes to town; everything changes and every single person you meet is so passionate. They live and breathe for Ferrari, they'd die for their drivers if it meant they could see them on that top step.

When Sebastian moved from Red Bull to Ferrari, he counted down the days to Monza.

It had always been his dream to drive with the red team, just as his childhood hero and friend, Michael, had done. Sebastian's first year with Ferrari was the epitome of picture perfect.

Despite coming in P2 behind Lewis and Mercedes, being on the podium at home for Ferrari meant everything to the German driver. This wasn't the first time he had gotten on podium for Ferrari, in fact he had already won twice with them that season; in Malaysia and then again in Hungary.

Monza was different; magical, special. There was something in the air, the energy was indescribable. Sebastian grinned, waving to the team from the second step.

You smiled, watching as your fiancé at the time hummed along to the Italian anthem, a country he quickly counted as his second home.

Sebastian was the king of the world that day, even though he hadn't won.

He had returned to the garage with the biggest grin on his face, trophy in one hand and the bottle of champagne in the other. He passed them over to his engineer, making a beeline for you. The man's covered in champagne and sweat and confetti, and he smells like gasoline and engine oil but he picks you up, squeezing you tightly.

You remember telling him how much you loved him and how proud of him you were. Sebastian responded with a kiss, you can taste the champagne; a familiar taste that slowly became more scarce as his days with Ferrari went on.

Unfortunately, things took a bit of a downwards dip for Sebastian after that. He was hungry to win, he was constantly in a fight for the championship every year and it was killing him that he wasn't there yet. Yes, he had won races with them and broken every record he could possibly break but if he couldn't achieve the one thing he really set out to do, the one thing he had always dreamt about, then what was the point?

Monza seemed to always have Sebastian in its grasp, tricking him as the years went on. He almost always was there, he could reach out and touch the win and yet, it slipped through his fingers. Winning in Monza meant more to a Ferrari driver than winning in Monaco would - unless you were born and raised there like Sebastian's teammate, Charles.

You were the king of the world if you won there; your name written in the history books from now until the end of time.

Sebastian longed for his name to be in the book of the greats; Sebastian Vettel, Monza race winner.

A dream that slipped through his fingers as did his hope of winning the championship with Ferrari.

After coming in P2 in 2015, things just kept getting further and further from the finish line for him. P3 in 2016 and 2017, P4 in 2018 and last year was the final shove before the cherry on top this year; P13 while his new teammate, Charles, stood on the top step as race winner, basking in the magic that is Monza.

He was happy for him, beyond happy actually and any win for the team was great but oh how he wished that was him.

Now you're back in Monza, the season had been delayed due to the pandemic and this was the first race you had been able to join him for all season. It was weird being there with the track empty; just the teams and the occasional celebrity guest that was rich enough to pay their way in.

The car has been giving Sebastian a hard time all weekend, practice was shit and he placed P17 in qualifying. It wasn't a good weekend for your husband.

"Be good," you told him while he was getting ready for the race. Sebastian nods, a witty remark about him always being a good boy slipped past his lips and you waved him off, your cheeks red as you walked back to the garage.

Watching him start from the back of the grid was breaking your heart, you knew he could manage much more than that but it's the stupid car that was giving him trouble.

He barely got a grip on the car before he drove off and into the blocks that were in the run off area. Your brows furrowed as you watched him speed through the blocks, his voice coming through the headphone - "brakes failed."

Your heart drops, eyes fixed on the screen as Seb pulls the car into the corner as best as he can without disrupting the race. He finds his way back to the garage after the marshals come for his car, Sebastian gives your hand a squeeze as he passes through and into the back hallway to his driver's room. You figured you'd give him space to cool off and you stayed in the garage to watch a bit more of the race.

It was barely 20 laps later that you saw the other Ferrari slide into the wall. To no fault of Charles, the car had understeer which caused him to lose the back half and send him into the wall. You stood there, waiting to hear if Charles spoke before you took your headphones off.

Once you hear that he's okay, you step out of the garage and make your way to your husband's driver room. You knock on the door, peeking in before he answers.

Sebastian gives you a sad smile, you can feel your heart breaking as you step in and shut the door behind you. He's sitting on the bench and you walk over, joining him.

"Charles is coming in."

"What? The race isn't over, is it?" Sebastian looks over at you before glancing out the window. You shook your head, "it's a red flag now, Charles' car has understeer, went into the wall."

"Is he okay?" He asks and you nod, "he's a little shaken up but he'll be okay."

Your hand finds your husband's, interlocking fingers. "I always admire that even when you're going through it, you still look out for others."

"I know what it's like to be in his position, it's tough."

You hum, glancing down at the racing boots that were tossed to the side, Seb's sock clad feet slide back and forth over the floor. "You know what happened today wasn't your fault, Sebastian. It was mechanical."

He's quiet for a bit, nodding at your words. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, baby."

You look over at the man, "of Ferrari or of racing?"

"Both," he answers truthfully.

Sebastian and Ferrari had come to a mutual agreement - a publicity term - that they would not be renewing his contract. You weren't opposed to it, you knew it was killing your husband to go but if Sebastian was good at one thing, it was that he knew when it was time to go, he had to go. He wanted to win with them, you think a part of him still held a tiny sliver of hope that he would find his way back to the top step as champion of the world but he also knew being there was killing him.

Mentally, physically, emotionally; he couldn't bear the pressure of staying there any longer.

"It's just a few more races, love. You can do it."

He nods, "I know but.." "Don't even go there," you tell him, shifting to face him. One of your legs hanging off the bench as the other folded in front of you.

"Monza's special, you know that." He says, "I just.. I feel like I failed." He sighs, his head hung and if your heart wasn't already broken, it was broken now.

It was days like today that made you hate the team that your husband so dearly loved.

"You didn't fail, you never failed them, Sebastian." You squeezed his hand, the man looked up at you. Your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, your thumb rubbing over the few days old stubble on his cheek. "If anything, they failed you."

"You have the talent and the skill, and the drive to win and to be a champion; it's them, babe. They couldn't give you a car that was worthy of you, you can't blame yourself for that." You look at your husband and the man sighs again.

"I should have been able to, though. Been able to get the best out of the car."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Seb, c'mon. Be for real right now, it's their shitty ass car, it's not your fault. You know Lewis's car is basically a rocket ship, plus it's not like your strategies are A1 over here."

Seb tosses you a glance, a look of disapproval on his face. "You're so not helping right now, darling."

You raise your hands in surrender and your husband smiles - his first genuine smile all weekend. You smile back, holding his face again. "I love you, Sebastian."

"I know," he grins and you shake your head, laughing. "This is usually the point where you say I love you back."

"Oh, sorry." he chuckled, "I love you, y/n."

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss. "Good, now come on. You need to get dressed, go check on your teammate," you patted his thigh, getting up to find a shirt for the man. In the meantime, Seb pulled off his race suit and fire proofs, slipping on a pair of shorts.

"Do I really have to go?" He sits on the bench again, shifting to lay down, his arms tucked behind his head. You roll your eyes, looking through the small cabinet off to the side. "Yes, you know they'll make you out to be a villain if you don't."

"And if I wanna be a villain ?" He asks, looking over at you.

You sigh, tossing the shirt at him, "Sebastian, don't start with me right now."

The man laughs, dropping the shirt on the bench before standing up. Sebastian grabs your hand, pulling you flush against his chest. "Ew," you fake a gag, "you're sweaty."

He smiles, ignoring your comment. "I don't know what I'd do without you, I can't thank you enough for being here for me all these years."

Your hand rests on his jaw, giving him a kiss before smiling at him. "You don't need to thank me, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat but.. if you do wanna thank me, you can buy that purse I liked."

"Show me when we get back, you can take my card and order it."

"I was joking," you look at him, and Seb shrugs. "It's the least I can do to thank you for being the perfect wife."

"It's easy to do when I have the perfect husband," you smile, kissing him again. There's a knock on the door, causing you both to look in the direction of it.

"When the two of you are done being perfect, you're needed for press, Sebastian." Britt's voice from the other side of the door, making you both laugh.

Seb gives you one last kiss before grabbing his shirt, "I'm coming!" He calls to her, pulling it on. He was on his way out but you stopped him, grabbing his hand.

He turns back, looking at you as he waits to see what you wanted. "I'm proud of you, no matter what," you tell him.

Seb nods, smiling at you. "I love you."

---

taglist: @dragon-of-winterfell @benedictscanvas @elisaa-shelby @hnmaga-blog @czechoslovakiandisco @dr3lover @troybolton14 @Lovingroscoee @compulsiveshit @somanyfandomsbruh @damnyoulifee @barzysreputation @vickyofalltrades @yeolsbubbles @barzysreputation @thybulleric @valkyrie418 @ricsaigaslec @idkiwantchocolatee @sessgjarg @molliemoo3 @bisexual-desi @sunf1owerrq @alwaysclassyeagle @coldmuffinbanditshoe @sillybananamaker and @oconso cause she was fucking with the preview I sent her

[simazinblr]

Malaysia stared at her phone screen, her finger hovering over the “decline” button. Andrei’s name lit up the screen. They had been at odds lately, more so on Malaysia's part. She sighed, then swiped to answer before she could talk herself out of it.

Malaysia: Hey. Andrei: Hey, baby, I just wanted to check in. Thought maybe you’d changed your mind. Malaysia: Didn’t change my mind.

Malaysia leaned forward, grabbing the wine glass from the coffee table.

Andrei: I know you told me not to come, but Malaysia… I just don’t like the idea of you being alone right now. I have one day off, and I want to be there for you.

She sighed, setting the glass down a little too hard.

Malaysia: You don’t get it, Andrei. I don’t need you trying to fix me. I’m grieving. And I don’t need you telling me how to do it. Andrei: I’m not trying to control how you grieve. I just worry about you. You’ve been drinking a lot more, and… putting yourself in situations that aren’t safe. I just want to make sure you’re okay.

Last week, Andrei found Malaysia dancing on top of the bar, which upset him. She thought it was just harmless fun, but he’d been worried about her drinking and partying for weeks. The bar incident pushed things over the edge.

Malaysia: I’m fine. You don’t have to babysit me. Andrei: It’s not babysitting. You know that’s not what this is. Lay, you’ve been shutting people out. Your friends, your family… me. Malaysia: I’m not shutting you out. I just…need space. Why is that so hard for you to understand?

Andrei hesitated.

Andrei: If you need space, I’ll give you space. But, let me come next week. You don’t have to go through this alone, Malaysia. You know I love you and Ben.

She caught her breath when her son was mentioned. It was the one thing that always cut through her anger and defenses.

Malaysia: Next week… maybe next week. Andrei: Okay, baby. I’ll be here when you’re ready.

Malaysia ended the call without saying goodbye. She sat there for a long time, staring at the glass in her hand. She wasn’t ready to see Andrei, but maybe next week she’d be in a better headspace.

[sunbeamah]

Would you consider the making a fic where the Kusozu Brothers react to Canon or meeting canon?

I'd just like to sincerely apologise for how long this took, I truly am so sorry. I started writing as soon as you sent this, and went through about seven drafts before I realised that I'm really not good enough to write ten characters meeting alternate versions of themselves-- so I hope you'll accept Sukuna's Exploits in Canon and the headcanons beneath the cut!

Choso

Choso hates almost everyone in canon.

He hates the coach from episode 1;

"Why is he, as a schoolteacher, blackmailing students, making bets with them and changing what club you signed up for??? CREEP!

Megumi,

"Why does he have to be in this?"

Sorcerers,

"EXECUTED?!"

Gojo,

"IN HIS BASEMENT??????"

Nobara,

"You're not an idiot, Otouto, don't listen to her."

Junpei,

"If he just listened to you (Yuuji) he wouldn't have traumatised you by dying!"

Todo,

Now at first he liked Todo. He knows that's Yuki's younger brother for one, and on top of that the first thing Todo does is try to beat Megumi half to death

"Omg I love that kid."

When Yuuji and Todo fight, things start to slip a bit..

"I like that kid way less now."

And when Todo calls Yuuji brother.......

"I hate that kid now. Who does he think he is? I'm your big brother. Not him. You already have Eso, why do you need another tall, tan, muscular brother??"

Yuuji: Well--

Sukuna: Well nothing, whip me out, I'll show him whose 'buraza' you are.

Choso likes Nanami though.

When his brothers are like "??? Just like that?" he goes:

"I liked it when he said that Yuuji's the child and he's the adult. It seems like, though he;s endeared by Yuuji, he still maintains and appropriate and professional distance with him. And he's protecting you two (Sukuna and Yuuji) while we're off doing whatever it is we're doing.

Which begs the question! What are they doing?

When the death paintings are introduced, Choso is excited! And then the fight happens. Way less excited.

If they were watching JJK as a tv show, this is where Choso stops watching. They can try to make him come back all they like, Choso is NOT standing for it. Even if they get him to watch s2, as soon as he sees Gojo he's leaving.

If they made him see himself... I think he'd break the TV as soon as he struck Yuuji for the first time

And if they showed him his final scene, I think he'd weep in relief. And be excited that Yuki rocked up!

Eso

For the whole of season one, he's waiting for his debut.

"This is so boring when do we show up?"

"Imagine if Yuuji left us back in Sendai."

"If I were there Junpei would've lived. Just saying."

"UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"Bring me in I'll shut Sukuna up."

BUT! There are some highlights for him. Such as:

Nanami.

Eso, licking his lips: You reckon he's (Nanamin's) ever been outta the country?

Yuuji: Eso-nii you are NOT fucking my train bestie.

Eso: "I'll take you to Malaysia baby."

Megumi!

During the fight with Todo he's cheering him on hard out.

"Yeah get him Megumi!! Finish summoning whatever that is, I've been seeing it! Actually do it this time! 4th time's the charm! Beat his ass!!" (It's his Mahoraga fists)

Other than that, it's been a dull watch for him.

Until they appear!:

Eso: FINALLY!

Kechizu: it’s us!!!!!! Niichan why do you look like you haven’t slept in 100 years

Sukuna: Wdym, he looks the exact same

Yuuji: I hate to say it, Choso-nii, but… he’s right.

Choso: They’re not that bad.. (pulls out his phone to check)

Choso:

Choso: Oh. 

Eso: Hey wait, why are we asking why Niisan looks like that, when we should be asking..

Kechizu: Shut up

Eso: Why YOU look like THAT

Yuuji: Ooooo I love the body horror

Kechizu: !!? BODY HORROR! 

Sukuna: He looks cooler than you do.

Yuuji: I look the same though?

Sukuna: yeah exactly

And when the Yuuji and Nobara vs Eso and Kechizu fight starts:

Eso: Oooooooou we’re gonna fight, Yuu-chan! Money’s on me, this protag’s been winning too many fights lately

Kechizu: His friend literally just died. And Todo beat him up.

Eso: Still, in the end everything was fine. I’m sure once Yuuji uses his ‘I’m your brother’ cursed technique, we’ll stop fighting and everything will be A-OK!

Sukuna: Yuuji should use my power to put you down like the dog you are

Eso: Your reputation couldn’t handle how hard I’d whoop your ass

And when it ends:

Eso, mouth open, jaw dropped, flies coming out, pissed: It’s rigged. It’s rigged! I would 100% win a fight against Yuuji, and I’ll prove it right now

Unfortunately for him, by this point Yuuji is too busy being cradled by a wildly sobbing Choso.

He does NOT want to watch the show after he dies. But when he hears Gojo gets sealed and Choso's gonna show up, he makes a concession for those episodes.

Eso: Gayest death scene in the whole show, tops Junpei's by miles.

Yuuji: He's not even dead!!!!

Now he insists he won't watch till Choso's on, but when he sees Nanami's new look... Let's just say he's sat for Dull Knife.

Eso: Yuuji I love you. I love you so much. You're my babiest of brothers. I'll always love you. But for fucks sake you did NOT deserve to be the one to meet Nanami out of all of us!!!

Yuuji: ?! Kechizu did too?!

Eso: And I'm still pissed NEITHER of you introduced him to me. Like?????? Have you seen the man???????????????? When he gets back from Malaysia he'll literally be my ideal type. I hate you two.

Eso: --and so, not only would it be neglect, but it would also be legally wrong of you not to introduce him to me.

Yuuji: NO!

Eso: AND HIS NAME IS:::: ZENIN TOJIIII! (John Cena theme plays from his phone)

Yuuji: You HATED him! You hated him before this!

Eso: And now for the purposes of the show I love him! Uncle-in-law! 

Kechizu: Wow… I really should’ve remembered Nanami, huh? 

Yuuji: ENOUGH!

Sukuna: Brat, even you can admit he’s hot. Look how they drew him. It’s softcore porn, beatdown edition. 

Eso: Hey do you have his phone number?

Yuuji: NO!

Choso: Good. 

Eso: I’ll come with you to and from school next time. I should thank him.

Yuuji: BACK!!! OFF!!!

Kechizu: Yeah! Leave some for the rest of us! Yuuji and Choso: NO!

Kechizu: I thought you liked him, Oniichan!

Choso: Well yes, but… 

Sukuna: Don’t tell me your type is blonds…

Choso: I only like the one blonde…… Maybe a second one now, but–

Yuuji: CAN EVERYONE STOP HITTING ON NANAMIN?

And then Choso's episode!!:

Contrary to everyone else in the room, Eso's enjoying himself.

Eso: AND THEN HIT HIM WITH THE RIGHT HOOK! AND THEN SUPERNOVA HIM! AND THEN DIVERGENT FIST TO THE STOMACH! AND THEN SLICE HIM WITH A BLOOD BLADE! AND THEN--

By the middle-end area he quietens down out of respect for the... Mourners.

Choso, crying, can’t watch his fight scene: JUST REALISE!!! IT CAN’T BE THAT HARD!!! I HAVE A BLOOD TECHNIQUE!!!!!!!!

Sukuna: YUUJI! USE ME! WHIP! ME! OUT! YUUJI FOR FUCKS SAKES–! 

Kechizu: DON’T HIT HIM HE’S JUST A BABY!!!!!! YOUR BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eso, visibly disturbed: I think you should all step out for a minute...

As soon as he gets the sense that Nanami's about to die, he leaves.

Eso: I'm not watching that shit! Call me when Niisan gets back.

Kechizu

tries to cover the twins' eyes when there's violence

it doesn't work because, in the beginning, show!Sukuna IS the violence

Very vocally dislikes Gojo, always takes an issue with whatever he has to say or do.

Kechizu: 'ten seconds' what a creep. Sukuna'll teach him a lesson when he gets all his fingers back.

Kechizu: Executed??? What a pushover! If he's so powerful he should just kill the higher ups.

As soon as Kamo Noritoshi's name is said during the sexchange event arc, Kechizu is piping up

Kechizu: DAD???????

He's 100% convinced their father has been deaged and put into the Kyoto school

Cries when Eso dies, but is willing to watch the rest of the show because Yuuji and Sukuna are in it!

(lives to regret that^)

Interestingly enough, though, he enjoys the hidden inventory arc

cheers when Toji sells Megumi and kills Gojo, but when Kusozu Sukuna defends Geto, suddenly he has an issue with mr Fushiguro and 'see, Yuuji, this is why you need to break up with that boy'

when Sukuna starts killing people in Shibuya (indirectly after the first few kills since he's fighting Jogo), Kechizu spends 90% of the episode defending him

Kechizu: they should've just moved if they didn't want to get exterminated! What's stopping them?!

Sukuna: I'm saying!

Yuuji: THE BARRIER!

Chokes on his snacks when he sees the flashback to Kamo Noritoshi, points at the screen wildly and concocts the most batshit insane theory that Choso and Eso (who are no longer watching at this point) believe wholeheartedly

Kechizu: So you see, Dad must have a duplicate technique that requires a brainswap, and he's clearly split his consciousness between Kemo Noritoshi and Geto's body, and so he was the real mole this whole time. Ignore that puppet kid in the bath, he's a decoy.

Choso: I see

Eso: It's all coming together

Yuuji: ?????????????

Sukuna, lying: You're so right. I see it now. Are you sure you didn't write the show yourself, Keke Akusotami?

When Yuki pulls up he's the only brother other than Choso that's happy to see her

Kechizu: OH THANK FUCK! GET THEM YUKI!!!!!!!

Sukuna

Endlessly entertained by himself at first

His favourite line is Show!Sukuna's very first words: "WHERE ARE THE WOMEN? THE CHILDREN?!"

It took him 15 minutes to stop laughing and another 10 to actually process what else was going on in the show

During the prison episode he's still kind of amused when Show!Kuna just straight up kills Yuuji. The only things that irk him are:

Sukuna: I don't like how I'm lookin at Fushiguro right now.

Sukuna: 'show me something special' he doesn't have anything special

Sukuna: Why couldn't I have killed all three of them??

Doesn't like Nanami. He doesn't hate him or anything, he just has no interest in him.

(Secretly, he's been holding a grudge ever since Nanami said he didn't acknowledge Yuuji as a sorcerer)

When Junpei dies, Sukuna feels kind of bad, but only because Kusozu Yuuji is crying so hard

Sukuna: I wouldn’t laugh like that if he died. Not in front of you. Probably in private. Maybe at the funeral. If you ran off crying. Or if you didn’t then I’d do it silently. This is just overkill, really. Ha, overkill. Get it? Cause he got killed… Over top of you. But yeah I wouldn’t laugh in your face, that's crazy. Like you are now. Cause your friend’s de–

Eso: Bro..

Kechizu: Sukuna-kun I think you made your point!!

After that he's less eager to see himself.

But he still insists Yuuji "whip him out" every time there's trouble. Like when he's being bullied by the Tokyo school for coming back from the dead; fighting Todo, Hanami, making eye contact with Gojo-- all worthy of the wrath of the king of curses

When the death painting arc starts::

Eso: Oooooooou we’re gonna fight, Yuu-chan! Money’s on me, this protag’s been winning too many fights lately

Kechizu: His friend literally just died. And Todo beat him up.

Eso: Still, in the end everything was fine. I’m sure once Yuuji uses his ‘I’m your brother’ cursed technique, we’ll stop fighting and everything will be A-OK!

Sukuna: Yuuji should use my cursed technique to put you down like the dog you are

Eso: Your reputation couldn’t handle how hard I’d whoop your ass

But by the time the arc is ending, Sukuna is getting a liiiiitle, small, tiny, teensy bit sad. Mostly because Kechizu is bawling his eyes out.

Sticks around for the next arc! All the Kusozu brothers leave after the first five minutes, unwilling to watch anymore, leaving only Sukuna and Yuuji. But first::

Choso: Why do we have to see this irrelevant’s lifestory? (Gojo’s)

Eso: This perv again..

Kechizu: I hope his boyfriend dies. 

Sukuna: That��s dark. Not me. That’s sensei right there. I hope his girl friend dies. 

Yuuji: She doesn’t die you idiot she’s literally in season 1

Sukuna: And season 1 comes before season 2, I’m not the idiot here. 

Yuuji:

Hidden Inventory becomes Sukuna's favourite arc pretty quickly! It only loses its spot when Megumi appears at the end

Eso: GET HIM TOJI!!! YES!!!!!!!

Yuuji: You guys are just doing it to irritate me at this point, ‘cause there’s no way you hate him this much

Kechizu: HE DID IT!!!! HE KILLED HIM!!!!!!

Yuuji: You know he comes back, right??

Sukuna: SHUT UP BUZZKILL WE’RE TRYING TO SAVOUR THE MOMENT!

Yuuji: Choso-nii why are you pausing…

Choso: (takes a picture of Gojo’s ‘dead’ body)

Yuuji:

Hates the filler ep, wants to get back to the killing people part, that was his favourite

He's excited for the Shibuya incident, so much so that he almost doesn't notice he hasn't spoken a single word all season

He's hurling abuse at the TV during the choso vs yuuji ep, but then again he's hurling abuse at the TV no matter what episode is playing

He's convinced that if Show!Yuuji just gives him control, everything will be fine!

(He's wrong. He's so deeply wrong.)

Has the time of his life during the Sukuna takeover eps

Actually giggled (half of it was out of shock!) when Nanako and Mimiko got killed (HE WOULD! I'M SORRY BUT HE WOULD!!

Does a victory lap around the room during the Jogo fight

Sukuna: GET HIM! SLICE HIM AGAIN! FUCK THE DOCOMO TOWER! FUCK THOSE CARS! THAT'S WHAT IM TALKIN ABOUT!!!!!! NOW HIT HIM WITH THE-- what the fuck-- WHAT THE FUCK! FUUGA?!?!?! FUUGA!!!!!!!!

Sukuna: Why am I saving Fushiguro again? He's the one who decided to kill himself, how is that my problem??

He only calms down a bit once Show!Yuuji comes back and has a breakdown.

Pretends to be totally unaffected but secretly presses his knee to Yuuji's

Sukuna: all that and I still didn't get Kenjaku? Really?

Yuuji: Who's Kenjaku???

Sukuna, who got bored after his eps and looked up spoilers to pass the time: ...........

[antimony-medusa]

MCYT on Ao3 - May '24

It's that time! It's the time for numbers! I am stitching this in around meeting I have to to do today! Let's look at some spreadsheets.

Some Notes:

Two new fandoms this month! SDMP | Sleep Deprived SMP and SkyBound SMP were both new. And after being added last month, Aimsey SMP had a very good month, posting almost the highest grown in the small and micro fandoms, 18 fics.

Fics are still primarily in english, but we have three exceptions with significant spanish fics. Karmaland (779 of 896 are in spanish, from 764 last month), Tortillaland (113 of 119 are in spanish, from 110 last month), and QSMP (992 of 9,359 are in spanish, from 925 last month.)

QSMP also shows 48 fics in French, same as last month, and 519 in Brasilian Portugese, up from 463 last month. While I did not check every language this month, I checked on the languages I knew had a fic in QSMP and we see 1 fic in Bahasa Malaysia, 1 fic in Dansk (Danish), 2 fic in Deutsch (German), 1 fic in Esperanto, 1 fic in Filipino, 5 works in European Portugese, 2 fics in Polski (Polish), 9 fics in Русский (Russian) (up from 7 last month), 1 fic in Suomi (Finnish), 1 fic in Svenska (Swedish), 1 fic in Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese), and 4 fics in 中文-普通话 國語 (Mandarin Chinese, I believe). While several 한국어 (Korean) speakers were recently added to the QSMP, there are currently no fics in 한글 (written Korean).

In the small and micro fandoms, HBG finally stabilized after several months of fluctuations, showing an increase of 1. The standouts were Aimsey SMP, with 18 new fics (possibly connected to the finale), and SOS SMP, with 19 new fics. Notably, there were no negatives this month!

In the mid-sized fandoms, Evolution SMP posted another good month, going up by 27 fics, but the standout continued to be Mystreet, with 37 fics.

In the larger fandoms, we saw things sort of stabilize into what I presume is the new normal, with most fandoms posting similar numbers to the previous month. Dream SMP saw an increase of 224 fics, which seems more reasonable for a fandom of that size than last month's 113, but is still beat three of the fandoms over 5k, and again, is far below February's 591 and January's 918. QSMP posted only slightly lower numbers than last month, 421 this month in contrast to last month's 443. (Again, much reduced from February's high of 729, when they were the highest overall MCYT fandom). Empires increase of 144 was lower than the previous month's 151, but still beat the previous month's 142. 3rd life, decreasing from the high of their April Fools instalment, posted 471 fics, lower than the previous month's 553 but more than the previous month's 398. And Hermitcraft's 648 was the highest single MCYT increase, though it was lower tha the previous month's 805 and the month before's 628. The top three fandoms by increase were Hermitcraft, 3rd Life, and QSMP.

Minecraft STILL posted a deletion, as they went down by 49, but that was less than the previous month's 217, and the month before's 1,555. Video Blogging RPF saw an increase overall of 2,511, which beats the previous month's 2,330, but is down from the increase this time last year, 3,768.

[rayyanishere1]

what, another one? ANOTHER intro?!

you heard right, folks! because of new years, and my 15th birthday coming up, i've decided to make a new one! be warned, this thing is a colourful NIGHTMARE.

∆ my name is rayyan! i am but a silly teenage boy trying to live life as cringely as he can.

∆ i do tons of stuff! draw, sing, write, talk your ears off, everything!

∆ my most active fandoms are gravity falls, the hellaverse (hazbin hotel, helluva boss), and link click!

∆ my less active/retired fandoms are:

danganronpa (with the recent 2020 comeback, it may come back too!)

ghosts cbs (seriously gotta watch that new season)

big hero six (i had a hiro hamada fan account back in the day, yk!)

avatar: the last airbender/legend of korra (i was positively obsessed as a kid!)

∆ saya orang malaysia! (translation: i'm malaysian!) although, i would love to move to singapore or another less homophobic country.

∆ should've done this last time, but here's my do not interact list:

proshippers

bigots (racists, homophobes, transphobes)

bullies (those who are relentlessly mean for no good reason)

(these are just what i can name off the top of my head, anyone being weird will be blocked! like, immediately!)

∆ before i end this off, i wanna give a special shout-out to my friends! @nazchokey and @sharkiewyu ! go check out their blogs, im sure youll find something of interest (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

∆ till next year, boop oop be doop, boop!

[reimenaashelyee]

Creator's Guide to Comics Devices: November 2023 Update

The first newsletter since launch came out a few days ago! It summarises all the updates I've made in November, which includes 2 (!) new devices, a sub-device, and other site changes.

Subscribe to the newsletter to get these updates direct to your email.

New Devices:

Aside

A short comment that sits outside of a balloon or character that is not perceived by anyone except the comment maker and the reader. An aside may come from the author, usually placed outside of the panel or near the edges. (Page with examples)

Topper

A secondary row of panels or single panel that goes 'on top' of the main comic. They are typically removable and non-essential, and usually contain the comic's title. (Page with examples)

Sub-device

Markers in Code Switch

Languages are assigned flags, pictographs or other iconographic symbols. (Page with examples)

News from the Curator and Site Changelog

I'm delighted over how well-received the library has been -- thank you to everyone who has shared, commented and provided feedback! I really appreciate the enthusiasm and generosity. <3 As a comics creator taking my first formal steps into the arena of comics studies, there is still a lot to do and to read for the library. Even with 63 devices catalogued, it's only still the beginning! 

From the Interwebs

‘The Creator’s Guide to Comics Devices’ Is the First of Its Kind, an Incredible Resource for Comics Creators & Readers Alike (The Mary Sue, Joan Zahra Dark) Lovely roundup from my fellow Cartoonist Cooperative co-founder Joan setting the historical context for Comics Devices and why an accessible resource is like this is due.  

Kibbles n Bits (Comics Beat, Heidi MacDonald) An enthusiastic feature of the library in Heidi's roundup.

Shout Outs

Thank you to Ritesh, Tan Juan Gee, Samantha Philipps, Blue Dellinquanti, Ted Anderson and Hannah Pallister for their contributions. (I really need to get that credits/curator's notes page set up. That's this month's to-do) Once again, thank you to the Sequential Artists Workshop Teaching Fellowship for supporting the development of the library this month.

Updates to the Site (Nov 2023)

Added the Store page and dedicated a subsection for it on the homepage, if only to direct people to the already-existing zine that’s currently distributed by Sequential Artists Workshop and myself. I might use that page to hold things like signing up for workshops and panels if they ever happen. Added the Newsletter page so it’s easier to link to across the site and elsewhere. Opened up the page that displays all the devices on one page. Added ‘Contribution’ ‘Newsletter’ ‘All Devices’ to the sidebar. Fixed the 404 page. It suggests the Site Map for advice. Finally opened the Links page! Check out all the resources in there! Thank you to folks who have submitted feedback/contribution! I have added new example pages for Harmonious Juxtaposition/Time & Space/Pictorial Lettering/Colour Coding and a longer definition for Map Panel. Added two new devices – Aside and Topper. Added ‘Markers’ and ‘Balloon Styles’ as a subdevice to Code Switch. Finally set up the Gallery page: this is where comics pages featuring the relevant device will be catalogued. Now for the slow work of filling up the galleries…..

New in Store: The Comics Devices Quick Reference Zine Before the website launched, I produced this zine as a promotional thing + quick reference. This is a 12-page zine showcasing the devices in this library as of 2023 (not including the Topper and Aside). Perfect for students, teachers and anyone who needs a quick, in-person reference if there's no wi-fi available. Sequential Artists Workshop is selling copies for North Americans in their online store. Folks in Australia, New Zealand and Malaysia can directly contact me to get a copy. An ebook version is on the way. I will announce it via newsletter.

[runabout-river]

How Mei Mei's inclusion in the good guys' team goes against Gojo's dream - or not?

Here are some rambling thoughts on her I had for the past few weeks but first things first: I love Mei Mei as a character. She brings a high class aesthetic to the manga but more than that she brings an extreme gray morality to it and consequently complicates and enriches the narrative and themes of JJK.

I will talk about one of those complications here, namely her material nature that lets her use everyone around her to make herself richer. Her allegiance to a side is solely depended on how much she gets out of it and with that she stands in contrast with Gojo's, Yuji's and even Megumi's ethical standards. On top of that, she was the narrative foil of Nanami up until his death.

Mei Mei did a number of unethical things in the manga which include:

Accepting money from Gakuganji to turn off her surveillance while the Kyoto students tried to kill Yuji.

Doing things solely for money even it helps the good guys.

Developing an extremely depended relationship with her brother on his side, so she can have a useful tool at all times. This dependent relationship includes fostering his infatuation with her up to the edge of it becoming sexual on his part.

Killing the head of the NSS so she can keep her assets.

Especially her relationship with Ui Ui raises eyebrows for why she's not only tolerated in Gojo's inner circle but even accepted and respected. Even Nanami, whose ethical standards are high and who directly lives the ideal of caring for children and protecting them first and foremost - in opposition to how Mei Mei lives - talks about her with respect.

At first, this looks strange and extremely at odds with Yuji's good ending where he takes over Gojo's role. And it's not like Yuji hasn't seen the relationship between Mei Mei and Ui Ui, his funny faces during those instances attest to that.

But it's only that: funny faces. On one hand, it's understandable because no one except the reader saw the bed scene in Malaysia. Nothing much except suggestion happened there but this story is also told for the readers so it should've been addressed somewhere in the narrative that Mei Mei is highly manipulative of a teenager in her care (she might care for him but his usefulness to her comes first.)

While Mei Mei was mostly absent during the Culling Game arc, she came back without any changes to the Shinjuku battle. Then came the scene at the airport where Nanami talks about an important conversation he had with her. Going North or South is a Buddhistic phylosophical question, which further complicates her character that has to 90% been driven by self interest at this point.

For the narrative and themes of JJK she's a conundrum best explained by the philospohy of sorcerers that come up every so often. She's not a hero and is motivated by something other than alltruism, something that's basically expected from sorcerers, in other words she actually fits into the mold. What let's her stand out is being the most grey character on Yuji's side somewhere together with Kashimo.

But Kashimo died and the ending of JJK was one where ALL conflicts had been closed and/or neutralized in some way except for her. Her gray character was actually emphasized in chapter 269 by the flashback where she went to the head of the NSS to kill her.

So there is this strange fissure between the "overly good ending" and her coming out of it as one of the biggest winners. BUT there is also the obvious parallels with Gojo. He too went to some old people and killed them for his own gain which was his dream for a better future for sorcerers.

He had expressed the desire to kill them right from the beginning so it has always been in his character to do just that and the same can be said for Mei Mei. They're both self-serving like that and it had always been Gojo who paid Mei Mei to be on his side while she was also a friend to him and the others (Utahime, Nanami) in certain times.

But so if Gojo's dream is accepting of her then where does the fissure of her inclsuon come from? From Yuji in my opinion. Yes, he only ever made funny faces at her and Ui Ui's interactions that we - the readers - know goes a bit further than that. But Yuji is still the only character on page who acknowledges that problem. (By making Mei Mei and Nanami short-time foils to each other in Shibuya, the narrative also acknowledges this however.)

The conclusion I came to in regards to her after reading the end of JJK, is a subtextual hint that Yuji is not going to live Gojo's dream as his sensei had envisioned it but that he will improve on that dream and for example incorporate Nanami's protection of children into it but he'll also add his own vision of not being a cog in the machine (which in Ui Ui's case would be about being a manipulated tool for someone else.)

In a potential post-ch.271 future this would mean that Mei Mei would become an antagonist to Yuji at some point which would give her and Ui Ui the perfect opportunity for some character arc and growth.