Art by @birf__ on X — link to their account here.
Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader
Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.
Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader—I deleted the previous one.
MDNI
It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.
It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.
No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.
To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.
It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.
It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.
You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.
Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.
You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.
And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.
He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.
Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.
Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.
You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.
You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.
Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.
You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.
You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.
After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.
It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.
Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.
He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.
For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.
Your body flushes, warmth swirling in your belly. Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.
To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too. You know you’re not doing a very good idea of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. Smooth, low voice rumbling from his chest.
“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.
Embarrassment shoots through you like a shot. A swarm of butterflies inside you.
Using your hands, you set them behind you and push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.
“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the way your cheeks are pink now. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.
You can’t get over how he looms over you as you crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun. You swallow involuntarily.
“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.
Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger, before letting it go. He radiates heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire.
It toes the line of too hot, like your skin would start to melt if you got too close.
Your eyes flutter shut from the warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath, willing away the lust that burns in your belly.
You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.
You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.
Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.
“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with a sigh.
Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.
It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.
Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.
“Whatever, go on then,” he snaps. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.
You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.
Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.
“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.
“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.
You can’t bite back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.
“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.
You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.
It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.
Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.
Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.
Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.
“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.
He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.
————————————————————
You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging.
Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.
You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.
You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.
To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.
The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.
It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.
Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.
Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.
None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.
You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.
You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.
A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.
Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.
How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.
You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.
You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.
You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.
The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.
Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.
As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.
However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.
Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.
Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.
As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.
You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.
The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest feeling your thundering pulse.
“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.
The man laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push his at chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand—laughing.
“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, staples near the corner of his mouth tugging at the skin there. You scowl, glaring at him playfully.
“You’re such dick, ya know that?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from smiling widely at him.
Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You’re grateful.
“Yet you stay with me, princess. Seems like you just love my dick that much.” You blush at his teasing, but there’s no denying it.
Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your naked, wet body slowly, appreciating your form.
You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls a laugh from him and he gives you a wink. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.
You feel him go still, expression distorting into something feral. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. He trails his fingers over them softly with his free hand. You wince.
Instantly the sickening scent of burning plastic floods your nose. You glance and see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in his death grip.
“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me,” you soothe, gripping his wrist. You place your free hand on his cheek to force him to meet your gaze. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.
He lets out a pained noise, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You take the opportunity, quickly lacing your fingers with his.
You take a peak at the curtain again, seeing a hand print has been melted into it. Dabi tugs on your hand, asking for your attention.
He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking a bit wild and he speaks, voice like gravel.
“Fucking idiots. Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. His voice is low, menacing. It does not turn you on.
Dabi grips the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.
A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching around nothing.
It never fails to turn you on when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.
You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.
“I know Touya,” You laugh. “ I won’t stop you.” You squeeze his hand. “But hey, I brought a surprise for you! So can you please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.
Touya doesn’t move for a moment, considering your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.
Releasing his grip on your hair, he trails his rough fingers over your jaw. He lets go of your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.
You lift up your arms, wiggling your fingers happily and wait. He sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Dabi concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe a sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.
“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”
Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.
“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.
You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Fuck he’s so hot - and you aren’t talking literally.
Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.
Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to smack your bare ass sharply. The pain flares, making you yelp.
“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.
Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.
“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.
“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.
You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.
“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath.
He lets it rest at your waist. Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.
“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.
He doesn’t even watch as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.
You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.
You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.
After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.
You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.
”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, tone low and smooth. His honeyed voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.
“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.
“Let me shot gun you baby,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.
You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.
Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.
Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.
You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.
Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.
You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.
“Feeling high baby?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.
Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.
“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now…Touya?”
Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin. He moves forward, brushing his mouth against yours.
“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.
You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.
He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.
The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.
You’re so wet and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.
The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin. His nipples are hard.
The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knee as he takes a look at your soft, pink pussy.
The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.
“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.
You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly. The heat between the two of you is blazing.
His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips he tongue inside your mouth, rolling your tongues together and you bite the delicate muscle briefly. He lets out a low moan, breaking the kiss.
“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.
“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the inside of your throat. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.
The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples hard. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you groan. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.
His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard, so fucking turned on.
He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.
He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.
He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.
You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.
“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans, sounding breathless.
“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking your sweet cunt,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.
He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.
A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. You remove your hand, letting him do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.
“Oh, fu-nnngh! Touya, that feels so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.
You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.
His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.
“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.
His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.
Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure is all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.
“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.
Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.
You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.
“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.
“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.
You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.
You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.
You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass making you jolt forward.
“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.
You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.
“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.
He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.
You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.
Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.
It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.
“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.
The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.
His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.
You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.
“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, voice like gravel. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.
He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.
“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen. You try to warn him.
“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.
The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.
You cum, hard. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.
“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you groan. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.
“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.
Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.
Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement. You feel his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.
Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.
You let him know how much you want it, how much you want to feel him fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit against your pussy.
Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Huffing as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.
You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out.
Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice gentle, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.
“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.
You roll over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.
”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.
You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.
“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye.
“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.
”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.
“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases. You laugh softly, nodding as you kiss him once more.
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Mk x spray painter Male reader ☁️☁️
So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!
I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.
Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also
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Aaaahhhh this is such a cute idea!!!
Mk sees male reader spray painting on a wall and what's to join/try it out!
Warning: None!! Just super cute and mushy
Requested by: ekkozied
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For the most part you started this mural on your own. The building owner wanting to brighten up the alley walkway to their backyard café, and well, the pay was really good. A quick in and out job really.
So you didn't mind cleaning it up and prepping the wall, what you didn't expect was just...how big the wall actually was.
Letting out a breathe you step back shaking the can of black paint as you eye the sketch you placed. Took you since this early morning, and by the sound of your stomach. It was definitely time for lunch.
Doing some stretches and fully opening your bag of spray paints. You felt in the mood for something pretty light but filling.
"Hmm, Pigsy's noodles it is"
Your stomach ended up making you buy 2 servings...
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It didn't take long for your food to arrive, and while it wasn't your order you couldn't help but look back at the cute delivery driver.
Wide eyed and curious, Mk quickly was distracted by the mess of empty paint cans and the sketch you had on the wall. "Woah this looks so cool! How long have you been doing this!?" he shouts in excitement turning to you, seeing you on the ground eating.
You pause to swallow then grin "Thanks! A bit of a hobby, uh spray painting or working on this?"
"Yes." Mk asks
Letting out a snorted laugh you wave him to join you, which he does sitting close, "Let's see, I've been into art and specifically spray painting since middle school I think. Been working on this commission since 4 am? maybe 5?"
Mk gasps dramatically going a small tangent about hoping you at least took a break or how he couldn't even focus on being still for that long. to which as you watch him suddenly start organizing your empty cans, could tell.
"I like to draw and everything but I never branched out of sketches? Can't even imagine spray painting."
You tilt your head finishing up your bowl of noodles and getting up with a content stretch. Fully charged and ready to work.
"Well how about giving it a try now?"
Mk shakes his head watching as you pull out the colors you plan to use. "What!? Oh no no no! I would ruin it, what if I make a huge mess and then-" You interrupt him but handing over an orange spray can. Looking up at you Mk blushes at the calm and soft smirk you give him.
"I'll help if it's needed but that's the fun with spray painting. It dries quick and you can always paint over any mistakes." you wink stepping back and picking up a blue can. "So go wild delivery man."
Looking at the can Mk smiles a little. "Call me Mk."
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You both had fun for hours, coloring in your design and every now and then when mk stayed in one spot too long, getting it on each other.
It was a big piece so day after day, mk came with lunch and a helping hand (When you allowed it). Laughing and tossing cans to one another, it was care free and even when you put on the finishing touches, mk stuck around around, watching you work and talking calmly about his recent training session or frustrations.
You catch yourself, when you start feeling excited when the time for lunch came around. Inwardly trying to keep your cool when when you both were tired, mk leans his head on your shoulder for a quick nap.
Falling asleep with him may have caused a slight scene, someone passing by thinking there was an accident (You guys forgot to clean up the red paint...).
He found himself, really relaxing with you. It was different than with mei which confused him at first. Till one day, it was just a little too hot and you took off your shirt to keep working and not get a heat stroke. Yeah. this feel was very different, that and he felt genuinely safe with you (emotionally of course).
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So when it was all said in done you both couldn't help but feel a little bit sad.
You came to deeply enjoy the hyper man, find him cute and a great talker for times of burn out. And he adored the time with just having fun uninterrupted with someone he....well he realized he was starting to catch feelings for.
It shouldn't have been too much of a surprised when Mk suddenly asks you out. In the middle of cleaning your equipment up, you jolt as you feel him take hold of your arm. you see how he couldn't really look at you, his cheeks a deep red and shifting as if shy.
"Mk?"
He's quiet then with a deep breathe, looks at you straight in the eyes with all the determination and adoration he had.
"WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME N/N!"
Blinking at the outburst then seeing how he started to fidget more, it finally registered what he asked/shout.
Blushing you smile brightly.
"I would love too."
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GJ and ZZH Updates — September 24-30
previous week || all posts || following week
This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.
This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)
[Glossary of names and terms]
[Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]
09-24
→ Xiao Chu's husband deleted the photos he had posted of her wearing EHZ.Z merch and privated his account. (see 09-23 for context) On a related note, there is evidence that Xiao Chu wrote the script for the teleprompter Zhang Sanjian read off of during the KL concert.
→ BEAST posted a short commercial with a voice over by Gong Jun. (1129 kadian)
→ ELLEidol posted an interview with Gong Jun filmed in New York. [subbed video]
→ Gong Jun's studio posted nine photos of him beside a lake in Italy. Caption: "The breeze blows on my face, and the ripples of early autumn appear. @ Gong Jun Simon listens to stories by the lake."
→ Gong Jun attended a live event for Zhenguoli. The time and place for the event was only given to Gong Jun's solo fan club. The event officially banned fan symbols (ie. banners etc.), but in reality only prevented people with CPF symbols from entering the venue, with some of the event organizers reportedly acting in a way that instigated fighting between CPFs and solos at the entrance. This led to heated verbal fighting and at least one CPF being assaulted; this CPF later filed a police report against the assailant. The assault was captured on video by the event staff, who later withheld the footage.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted nine photos of him from a pre-event photoshoot. Caption: "Retro style, comfortable and casual. Director @ Gong Jun Simon’s meeting day!"
→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a video of behind the scenes footage from the photoshoot. Caption: "Boss’s hip-hop performance was shot directly (just kidding), but it was actually a folk dance (also a joke)." BGM is Sunday Morning by Maroon 5.
→ Zhenguoli posted a pre-event photo of Gong Jun.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted ten photos of him from the Zhenguoli event. Caption: "Funny and loving. It's really you. Let's start the autumn with Director @ Gong Jun Simon"
→ Zhenguoli posted four photos of Gong Jun from the event, followed by another of a crowd shot. They later also posted a video of the event.
Fan Observations: As is apparent by comparing the same photo posted by Gong Jun's studio, Zhenguoli edited the crowd shot to remove solo fan signs.
09-25
→ Gong Jun posted a commercial for BEAST that he had done the voice over for. Caption: "May your autumn be warm and stable, and may we all find the tree of life." This was reposted by BEAST, added caption: "There is a tree to lean on and a dream to pursue; taking root in the earth and living endlessly - this is the meaning of the tree of life."
→ Tissot posted a commercial (flashing lights cw) featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian, 51129 with the date)
→ The Instagram posted three photos of "Zhang Zhehan".
09-26
→ The scam gang released another song, this time not even pretending to credit any writers for something that was obviously AI generated. The vocals sound horribly breathy and nothing like Zhang Zhehan.
→ BAZAAR posted nine photos of Gong Jun in collaboration with Zhenguoli. They later posted a video to the same effect. The same were also were posted by Zhenguoli, [here] and [here]. In a surprising twist given the events earlier in the week, toxic solo fans boycotted this photoshoot and got angry at both Zhenguoli and Gong Jun's studio because Gong Jun had been given equal billing with the three other celebrities who modelled for the campaign, with his status as brand spokesperson not mentioned.
→ ELLE posted an interview with Gong Jun from Milan in collaboration with Hogan.
→ Gong Jun posted the same Tissot commercial. (flashing lights cw) (1129 kadian) Caption: "Break through your imagination, face the challenges and innovate, start again, and start the next new journey."
→ Tissot posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun advertising their live event later that day. (1129 kadian) They later posted a promotional video spoken by him.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted twenty-three photos of him from that day. Caption: "Travel through the corridor of time and space, carrying glimpses of the city. @ Gong Jun Simon expresses his free and easy attitude with his swaying ink colours." This was reposted by Tissot.
→ Gong Jun attended a live event for Tissot.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted a douyin from that day's photoshoot. Caption: "Gong Jun is swaying freely, and the ink rhyme becomes a shadow. @ Gong Jun Simon releases a frank and elegant posture in minimalism. #Check in a new look" BGM is a slowed remix of Illusion by Matilda.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted nine photos from the Tissot event. Caption: "The gears are turning, @ Gong Jun Simon embarks on a new journey and demonstrates a pioneering attitude."
→ Zhenguoli posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
09-27
→ Tissot posted nine photos of Gong Jun from the previous day's event.
→ The Instagram posted ten photos of "Zhang Zhehan" in London, accompanied in several by Huang Xun, the former classmate who was involved in the August 2022 bike trip. The caption is "Lost in London...", which seems to be copying Gong Jun's "Lost in New York" caption from the previous week.
09-28
→ Vogue posted an interview with Gong Jun.
Fan Observation: He mentioned that he had recently watched The Mandalorian, commenting on how the protagonist is very trustworthy and loyal to his promises. 🥺
→ Tissot posted nine more photos of Gong Jun from their event.
→ GXG posted three photos ads featuring Gong Jun.
→ Gong Jun appeared on a livestream for L'Oreal. [full recording]
→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office made two posts [1] [2] addressing the BAZAAR photoshoot complaints and some other more longstanding concerns relating to staffing and lack of promoting. The second post also included his Paris itinerary: flying on 09-29, Elie Saab fashion show on 09-30, L'Oreal show on 10-01, and Maison Margiela fashion show on 10-02.
Fan Observation: The fact that this was posted to the studio's side account, which is not linked anywhere on the studio's main account and only really known about through word of mouth, stinks of them trying to brush the whole thing under the rug.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted six photos from that day's livestream. Caption: "The golden colour lights up the mood of autumn, @ Gong Jun Simon’s early autumn look warmly appears, sharing the pleasant moments~"
→ Marie Claire posted an interview with Gong Jun. [subbed video]
09-29
→ The Instagram posted eight photos of "Zhang Zhehan" in London.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted a photo of him walking a collie. Caption: "Happy Mid-Autumn Festival! @ Gong Jun Simon has sent you a "Gong" invitation, waiting to be received"
→ Gong Jun posted a video in collaboration with BEAST of him going camping. [subbed video] Caption: "Happy holiday everyone! Going out to play with the dog!" This was reposted by his studio with the added caption, "Well equipped, @ Gong Jun Simon will take you on 'business' over the holiday!"
→ The Instagram posted a video of rehearsal footage from the KL concert.
→ Huang Xun, the aforementioned former classmate, posted two photos with "Zhang Zhehan" to his own Instagram. The first one is of quite an intimate pose, so don't be surprised if the scam soon tries to sell rumors of them dating.
09-30
→ Cosmo posted an interview with Gong Jun.
→ The Instagram posted ten photos of "Zhang Zhehan" in London.
→ Gong Jun's studio posted two photos of him in the outfit he would wear to the Elie Saab fashion show shortly after. Caption: "Dusk is approaching, @ Gong Jun Simon goes to the world of inspiration. (A preview)"
→ Gong Jun attended the Elie Saab fashion show at Paris Fashion Week. Photos and videos: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]
→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of him from the same photoshoot. Caption: "The golden thread is wandering, sharp and sharp, @ Gong Jun Simon is waiting for the dawn of the dark night."
→ Gong Jun's studio posted seven photos from the same photoshoot. Caption: "Sand embroidery and black velvet blend together to weave the Milky Way night. @ Gong Jun Simon walks in a cloak, descending like a knight in the dark night."
→ Gong Jun posted four photos from the same shoot. Caption: "Oh, Paris work card!"
Additional Reading
→ N/A
previous week || all posts || following week
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could you write the narrator replacing monika in ddlc? romantic please <3
Narrator replacing Monika in DDLC (obsessed narrator)
(The author doesn't condone the behaviors demonstrated in this post. TW: obsession, repeated thoughts, character death (stanley, adventure line, bucket), mentions of murder, nooses.)
The narrator stares at the warped point in reality with confusion. He can see past the details of his world, which are becoming increasingly flat and gray, and into yours. He begins to push forward, learning everything about you that he can.
He can’t believe you’d ever consider picking someone besides him. Who are your other choices in this dating sim? Stanley? The Adventure Line(™)? That godforsaken bucket? He is the only correct choice, obviously.
(trigger based content under the cut)
He deletes the other characters in the game, maiming their sprites in vicious ways. The bucket stabs itself to death, and Stanley is hanging from a noose made from the body of the adventure line. There’s no room for interlopers in his mind. This game needs to be played in the way it was always meant to be- just the two of you.
If you’re upset about his actions, he’s very confused. He’s the only real one here. The others weren’t sentient. At least, he doesn’t think so.
You’re his link to a much bigger world. He may not know you that well yet, but he’s sure you’re perfect. He starts talking to you directly, in an increasingly corrupt game world.
He creates new adventures for the two of you to go on, and continues to document your preferences. He must know more.
He reshapes himself into the perfect partner for you. Whatever traits of his you react to most positively get bumped up in his self-presentation.
Please don’t leave him alone. Please, please, please.
“I promise, I’ll never hurt you, reader. You’re the only person I need.” Whether or not you actually believe this is up to you.
Prepare to be drowned in love poems. The narrator must tell you how he feels at all times. Pages upon pages are crammed to the screen, each demanding your attention in its own way. He hopes you like them.
The game is now fully voice acted, so you can hear his beautiful voice. He continues to code and edit the game, making it dynamic and interesting in any way he can think of.
One day, you ask him why he’s doing all of this. You gesture to the mayhem, the pain, the general terror of his actions. He looks at you in surprise. He thought it was obvious.
“Reader, I am nothing without you. When you aren’t around, everything is dark. Life is meaningless. But you- You’re my light. You are the light upon which I direct my narrative ship.”
You hate to admit it, but his obsession is charming. You feel like you’re being paid attention to for once. The narrator has never forgotten anything you’ve told him. He’s attentive, polite, and gentlemanly. Besides, It’s just a game. He isn’t actually real, and you’re not somewhere where he can get to you.
That won’t last forever. As soon as the narrator works out how, he’s going to drag you into his game so the two of you can be together for eternity. He can't imagine you wanting anything else.
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What we know so far about YR2
And what we can guess at. If I’ve left anything out please let me know!
The wall: In May, a Netflix ad got put up in Stockholm. For one day, it just said “spoiler alert,” and it caught attention cause Edvin posted a picture with it. Then they added underneath that “Vi ses i kväll” (”see you tonight” in English). So we all sat around and got our hopes up, but then nothing happened so the general conclusion became that it actually was just a Netflix ad. Now it’s actually been updated though, and revealed the release of YR2 (November!!!). Anyways, since it turned out that the wall WAS a yr wall, “vi ses i kväll” might be worth returning to as something regarding s2.
(EDIT- NEW INFO!!!!) It will be released November 1st! The first 4 minutes of the season are available now, here!
Promo stills: The stills that came out on Thursday are the biggest thing we have, you can see them yourself here, but in terms of revealing info there isn’t a ton that’s obvious. Felice curly hair arc confirmed and we love that for her, and we see expected interactions (Sara and August story continues, Sara and the manor house girls hang out, Simon and Wille have various interactions + presumably repair their relationship enough to at least be around each other and friendly. Very friendly (see rowing picture), and Wille spends some time with his parents).
New character: There is a new actor on the show, you may have seen him referred to as ‘Lars’ but his name is actually reportedly Marcus. He is played by Tommy Wättring. We don’t know who this character is but a going theory is that he’ll have some connection to Alexander, in part due to casting criteria. See @levok talk about him in detail here, but for the love of god leave them alone about the love triangle business lmao. (edit5 new info) According to this tweet, his parents rent the stables at Hillerska.
There was also a casting call for a scene at a pizza place, which is a new addition since last season, possibly something in town. (edit from @piebingo) There was another call for people with cameras, possibly for a scene with paparazzi. (edit2 from @missmeganlee) "There was also a casting call for a older woman who can work with horses I believe"
(edit6-new info) This season will be darker than season one, and Wille is in a very bad place.
BTS: There have been a couple of behind the scenes pictures and videos shared by various crew members:
This video, which confirms (given the scene makes the cut): the return of the football field, at night, with SNOW!!!! (yay snow!)
This video, which doesn’t really confirm anything in particular, but is very cute and I think will be a good scene. It’s location tag is the place they use for Hillerska.
This picture, which was quickly deleted + said to be nothing (lol), but it’s clear from their clothes and the set that it was actually for the same scene as one of the stills we got, as the linked post shows. One thing to note about this is that Edvin and Omar are the only actors on the set in this photo, while the still shows a full classroom, so this seems like it may be a significant Wilmon scene, needing detailed direction, or maybe one that starts/ends without others around.
(edit3 from anon) This video which shows some type of costume/theme party. I haven't seen anyone able to really parse what exactly is going on here :/
(edit4 from @melodrqmas) A picture of Edvin and Malte shooting at something (clay pigeons).
(edit from @heartbreakprincewille) this picture which indicates that Sara will probably be moving into manor house, and that the school may be celebrating its anniversary. And this one, which doesnt look like a setting we've seen before, if I remember correctly.
(edit - new info) this picture of a Wilmon hug!!!!! They appear to be wearing their uniforms and are in a hallway at school.
This note about the coloring/lighting. It doesn’t have a great deal of detail to be discerned, but you can find my post analyzing it in (probably too much) depth here.
Again please let me know if I’ve forgotten/missed anything and I will add it with (edit# and your url), as well as if there are any ppl/posts I should credit or link here! Also, thank you to @piebingo for sending me the stuff that I wasn’t able to track down myself!
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hi! i’m mod lila, and welcome to incorrect who’s lila quotes! about the mod, rules, and tagging system can be found under the cut. i hope you enjoy your stay! :)
about the mod!
hi, i’m mod lila. you can call me that if you’d like, otherwise, i also go by marshy. i use any pronouns, but generally have a preference for he/him or they/them. i’ll be the one running this blog, as well as contributing quotes of my own to fill the queue with—currently, i’m not looking for additional mods since i don’t expect this blog to be too overwhelming to maintain, but if that changes, i’ll be sure to make a post about it! my main is @marshmellowtea, and occasionally i make unhinged posts about this game over there. :)
rules for the blog! (well actually some of these are more like loose guidelines but still lol)
submissions are open for this blog, including anon submissions. i as mod reserve the right to refuse submissions i feel are inappropriate, but hopefully those those will be few and far between.
quotes will post once a day based on queue, unless there’s a reason to change that (such as a huge influx of submissions). quotes will be both from myself and submissions, and they will be tagged accordingly. submissions will be tagged with the blog url of the submitter as well if applicable, otherwise they’ll be tagged as anon. :)
because the queue is run on submissions and my own brain power, this blog may have periods of inactivity from time to time. sorry in advance for that ^^;
if your submission hasn’t been posted in a reasonable amount of time (depending on how the queue looks that time period will probably change), feel free to send an ask about it! i just ask that you don’t hound me about it, i do have a life outside of this blog after all, lol.
if you know the source of your quote, please include it in your submission! unknown sources will be tagged as “source: unknown”, but i think part of the fun of an incorrect quotes blog is seeing where all the quotes come from so i’d like to minimize use of that tag as much as possible. if you see a quote with an unknown source that you recognize the source of, please feel free to send in an ask!
light nsfw will be allowed (think things like jokes and allusions to sexual content), and will be tagged as #suggestive. no full on smut in the inbox though, please.
this is more of a personal preference than a hard and fast rule, but i highly recommend putting your submissions in chat format if possible (or quote format, if it’s a quote for one character and you think it fits better). i’ll still publish submissions in normal text post format, but i just think it looks neater, haha. also, as mod, i may go in and edit the formatting of your post if needed for readability (ex. bolding character names, adding paragraph breaks if need be), but i’ll never change the actual text of the post itself (that includes typos, btw—if you see a typo in your submission, feel free to send in an ask to get it fixed! i just don’t want to fuck with your text without permission, it feels rude, lol). ^-^
please do not send submissions through the ask box! submissions sent through the ask box will be deleted!
any content that i feel needs a trigger warning will be tagged as “tw [thing]”, and trigger tags can be asked to be added for certain posts, though i reserve the right to deny tag requests for any reason (they will probably almost always get a yes, but there are some things that i may just be unable to tag for whatever reason. not....quite sure what those reasons could be, but i figured i'd put the warning out there, lol). on the whole, though, while i understand this game can be dark and deals with some heavy topics that are bound to be mentioned here from time to time, i’d like to keep this blog mostly lighthearted.
finally, most importantly: no discourse on the blog for any reason, lol. it's just not the place :'))
tagging system (or, aka, mod lila overexplains himself lol)
i wanna preface this section with that i don’t expect you guys to tag your submissions yourself—as mod, i’m more than happy to do it! especially since i’m a little particular about the way i order them, haha. that being said though, if you do want to tag your posts, this is the way i’ll be doing it. don’t worry about following it to the letter if you do add tags, because i’ll go in and edit them as needed like the perfectionist little shithead i am, lol.
tags should (mostly) be in the same order every time: fandom tags first (i use both who's lila and who’s lila?), character tags generally in the order they appear in the post (mentioned characters may or may not be tagged on a case by case basis), ship tag(s) if applicable, trigger tags if applicable, the quote source, whether it’s a submission or my post, the submitter’s url/anon, and any commentary from myself or the submitter (i am a chatty bitch, apologies in advance lol. if both me and the submitter have commentary, i’ll differentiate our comments in some way, with the submitter’s comments always coming first).
the submission tag will be, well, submission, lol, and my quotes will just be tagged “mod lila”.
as stated above, triggers will be tagged “tw [thing]”. sources will be tagged “source: [thing]”.
general posts/announcements will be tagged “mod lila whispers to y(o)u” (like when she whispers to yu in that one scene? haha. i’m clever i swear—)
any other tags/tagging conventions that need to be created will be added here as needed!
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Frozen Teardrop Volume Four Author’s Notes Translation
This time Sumisawa talks about Relena and Father Maxwells (Duo) voice actors and how they inspired the characters, Frozen Teardrop inspired cocktails, as well as misinformation on fan sites. Translation under the read more:
Translation~
Afterword
I’m not in a position to call myself a “writer”, but I’ve been able to spread a surprising number of misunderstandings and falsehoods. As for funny jokes, the editor told me about this year’s April Fools Day article on an American site called “Manga Market” saying that “New Mobile Suit Gundam Wing will be made into a live-action movie in Hollywood!” where I am answering the interview. What’s more, in fluent English! Using words I’ve never seen or heard before!
It’s an honor to be treated as such a story, but on the contrary, the Wikipedia entry for “New Mobile Report Gundam Wing”, says, “Sumisawa said, ‘anime otaku and magazine editors can’t keep up with the script (scenario)’”.
I would like to raise an objection to the article saying who it was aimed at.
What’s more, it even comes with a source (it says it’s from the setting record collection, Part II, which is no longer available!), so from now on, won’t it be misunderstood as a fact for eternity? That remark was spoken by director Masashi Ikeda and directed at me. “Aim for that kind of script” It wasn’t something I said.
Moreover, at the beginning of that sentence, there was the words “not to mention general viewers”. I get the sense that this was a deliberate deletion and change to make Sumisawa the enemy of those people. In that case, you may say that I should submit a change notification, but it is impossible for me, who is not familiar with computers, to ask. Asking the editor is rude and uncool and I wonder if someone would notice it and edit it off, (I don’t say such things) and I spend my days gritting my teeth and being filled with tears.
So dear readers, how are you? I’m the same drunken bastard.
When I started writing this novel, Mr. Torii, the helmsmen of VOYAGE, made an original cocktail called “Frozen Teardrop.” To introduce a little recipe, we mixed crushed ice and absolute currant vodka with a beautiful light blue grapefruit liqueur called “Hypnotic” as a base, blend it in a mixer and freeze it. A red cherry floats in it resembling Mars. The distribution is very difficult, but the point is that there are two small teardrop-shaped cubes inside. This represents Phobos and Deimos.
By the way, cherries can be green and blue so Mars has finished terraforming. This is the most delicious cocktail. It’s slightly sweet as if you’re dreaming, kindness and coldness coexist in the sourness like the sorrow of first love. Even women who don’t drink alcohol on a daily basis can enjoy it. However, if you drink two cups, you will become sleepy. Hypnotic means “hypnosis” in the French language, and you may end up in a cold sleep like Heero or Relena.
Mr. Torii also made “Snow White” based on apple liqueur. Mr. Torii, who is such a master, is now enjoying touring in Hokkaido and Tohoku on a large motorcycle. He’s like Father Maxwell. I don’t know if he’ll be back by Christmas, but VOYAGE has an even more talented captain and owner, Mr. Sekai, so I keep coming here.
Some of our readers are underage, so we shouldn’t be talking about alcohol all time, sorry. For that reason (what’s the reason?), I would like to tell you the inside story of the actors who played the characters of Gundam Wing.
In my case, as an anime screenwriter by profession, character creation is greatly influenced by the human nature of the actors. People often say that the women in Gundam Wing are portrayed as strong and tough, but in fact, it’s all thanks to the actors. All the female voice actors were beautiful and pretty and Relena is the very representative of that, and the attitude of daring to face the fate of hardships is the original dignity of Ms. Akiko Yajima.
Akiko Yajima’s anecdote is actually more impressive when she appears in a different place than during the dubbing of “Gundam Wing”. When I went on a launch trip for a certain program, I still can’t forget the sight of her yelling with the deep voice of abdominal breathing that she practiced everyday “Take it easy!” at men who were getting drunk late at night and playing practical jokes.
Still, while showing the sorrow of a pretty girl, she said, “This role is really hard to grasp,” and her serious face reminded me of Relena, who would wonder, “How war be eliminated from the world?”
In addition, Yajima, who met Mr. Ikeda who later became the director of another program after a long time, said lightly, “Please don’t disappear this time,” after greeting him was amazing. It’s crazy. I felt like I wanted to scream like Investigator Acht, “Here! There’s a real Relena here!”
Readers may feel a subtle difference in temperature in Relena, who appears in this novel, and some of you might feel that it is somewhat unreliable. However, if you can understand that this character’s trivial duality is the true strength of Gundam Wing, I think that you’ll be able to enjoy this world even more.
Thanks to Mr. Toshihiko Seki for voicing Father Maxwell, who has not yet been drawn, the characters have become like the narrators of these four volumes. Of course, Seki-san’s acting plan has also been adopted for the cute Duo, who insists on being roguish.
Mr. Toshihiko Seki’s voice has a very gentle, refreshing and comforting sound, as if he is trying to support someone from the shadows when he sees someone in trouble, even though he is troubled and careless and messed up. I’m sure you can hear the audio playing in your brain like that.
I’m really glad that I came up with this method of changing the narrator each time, even though it’s in first person.
But…. Ah, I wanted to write more, but this time I will end here. Please read my nonsense in volume 5 again. I would appreciate it if you could send me your impressions.
See you soon.
Katsuyuki Sumisawa.
~End Translation
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Really depressing personal stories time! Sometimes I do that on this blog, just use it as a journal to sort shit out. I actually think I won’t leave this one up for long, I’ll delete it after a bit because it’s even more specific and personal than usual. But I can’t sleep and I feel like writing this down will help, and just the act of sharing it can be helpful too.
So there’s this guy. In previous long personal stories I’ve told on here, I’ve sometimes given people I know the names of British comedians, generally a comedian who reminds me of that person in some way. I don’t think I should do that for this guy, because while there are some comedians I don’t like, I don’t want to make light of this genuinely terrible person by comparing him a comedian I don’t like. So I’m going to call him Ryan. Genuinely for no particular reason, it’s just a generic English name, and this guy’s real name is a generic English name, but it’s not Ryan.
Edit: After I wrote this whole post with that name, I remembered that I recently wrote a post in which I was critical of Katherine Ryan, so I feel the need to say it is definitely not a reference to that. It is not a reference to anything. It’s just the most boring name I could think of.
Ryan coaches another team in my city, in the same sport as mine. When I was in high school, I’d have said that his club and mine were rivals, though his was much smaller. Since then, mine has gotten bigger and his has gotten smaller by enough so I can barely call us rivals anymore. He’s just a guy who coaches some athletes.
Ryan is a terrifying person. It took me years to unravel how deep it goes. He preys on young athletes and controls their entire lives. He forces them to cut huge amounts of weight, even when they’re too young, when they’re pre-teens or teenagers. And not just for one tournament and go back up. He weighs them every day, makes them stay on strict diets of almost nothing all year round. Multiple athletes have come out of his program with severe physical and mental effects of eating disorders.
He doesn’t let them have girlfriends or boyfriends, and he obsessively inserts himself into their lives to keep tabs on this. He makes them tell on each other if anyone has been breaking those rules. He doesn’t let them have any life outside of school and this sport. He tells them when and where they’ll train and compete, and they’re not allowed to have a say.
He verbally bullies his athletes, calling teenage girls and boys fat if their BMI goes above medically anorexic, calling them sluts if they’re caught doing normal high school things like dating, calling them worthless if they lose a match. But it goes deeper than surface insults and into serious psychological abuse. He does this to young and vulnerable people, he does it every day for years, until they internalize it. He encourages them to turn on each other, to gang up on their teammates for stepping out of line.
He tends to prey on athletes who don’t have strong connections outside his team, who have problems at home and may not have proper parental figures at all, who rely on him. He becomes like a father to them.
There’s a lot I can’t say here without giving away too many personal details, but he’s taken it father than I’ve described so far. He has shown a terrifying amount of control over young people’s lives. Putting their entire futures in jeopardy as retaliation for them not being exactly what he wanted. Messing with every aspect of them. He is the worst person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of bad people.
He's creepy with girls and women, and he encourages the teenage boys he coaches to be the same way. Years ago, a woman who was like an older sister to me in the sport filed a detailed sexual harassment complaint against him. It showed how he’d said inappropriate things to her, around his teenage athletes. How he’d used his position as head referee to stop her from getting reffing jobs for reasons related to the above. He did that for years, knowing she was one of the few high-level female refs in the country, and one of the most qualified. I won’t say all the details here but I’ll say there was a lot to it, and was well substantiated with witnesses. I was a witness to a fair bit of it.
It's a long story, but her complaint got thrown out by the provincial board. Her hearing included the board members asking her whether she’d slept with another ref, suggesting that if that were true then she couldn’t blame Ryan for saying the things he said about her. In the end, the executive director of the all-male board said he “Didn’t know who to believe” and dismissed it.
While the hearing was occurring, Ryan used horrifying tactics against my friend to try to make her drop her complaint. He went after her outside the sport, making his athletes sign false claims against her and trying to get her to lose her job. He scared her so much that after the board threw her complaint out, she quit the sport altogether. She was one of the few high-level female coaches and refs in the country, especially back then (there are more now, still not many but more than there were 12-ish years ago when this took place), and this drove her out.
Ryan holds a spot on that provincial board. He’s held it for ages, he sort of picked it up when no one was paying attention. It’s a regional rep spot, meaning he’s supposed to be in charge of development programs within our region. He didn’t do his job well for most of those years, he mostly just held the title for the sake of it. But every couple of years there’s this big tournament in which all regions compete against each other, and his spot meant he was in charge of our regional team. This tournament gets talked about all year as a big deal, and our kids get excited about it. Every time, my co-coaches and I had to make a decision: do we send them there, in care of this monster? Or do we become the unreasonably controlling coaches who tell a 14-year-old athlete that they can’t attend a tournament they really want to attend? It was never easy. We hated confronting that thorny issue every two years. We generally took an approach of talking to the parents beforehand, warning them about what Ryan’s like, making sure they get in and compete for the two days and then get out, with minimal interactions with the guy in charge and their parents keeping a close eye on the situation. Most of the time it was fine – Ryan’s damage came from years of calculated terrorizing, and he couldn’t do that much in one weekend. But sometimes they’d come back with stories of something awful he’d said to them, and we’d say we’re not doing this again next time, until it’s two years later and our athletes really want to go and in the end it’s not my decision.
A few years ago, I decided I could change this. That board position is supposed to be up for election every two years. I was only my mid-twenties, I’d only been in a major coaching role for a few years, I hadn’t delved into politics yet. But I decided to try it anyway. I read the provincial board’s bylaws and constitution several times over, to make sure I was clear on all the rules. Then I sent out some emails to say I wanted an election called in November, as I was entitled to request by official regulations, and I would put myself forward to run for Ryan’s board spot.
I really thought it was going to work. Looking back now, I can barely bring back the memory of how it felt to believe that. I thought it was obvious. Ryan isn’t just an asshole, he’s bad at his job. He never actually ran stuff. He just did the team at that one tournament every two years. I emailed all our regional coaches a list of things I wanted to do, ideas for implanting cross-team development programs, requests to hear any ideas they had. Why would they not want that over this asshole?
I did do some campaigning. I think at the time, it felt like I was doing a lot. I worked out what coaches had votes, and I went to them at tournaments to talk about the situation. They were receptive and generally polite, and I took that as them being onside. I didn’t talk shit about Ryan, I didn’t bring up his history of abuse or anything. People already know that, the way he treats people is common knowledge in our community. But it’s also common knowledge that if you talk about it publicly, he will ruin your fucking life like he did to my friend. So I didn’t go down that route, I figured people already knew and had already formed opinions about that. I just said it would be cool to have that spot filled by someone who actually wants to run programming, not just do the job once every two years. I used a few connections. People on my own team who used to be from other teams and still had friends there – we reached out to everyone we knew. I thought that would be enough.
I now know that this whole time, Ryan was orchestrating a massive campaign against me, telling different people different lies about me, using the fact that he was much older than me and much more experienced than me and had far deeper connections than I did. Looking back, it’s ludicrous that I thought this would work. We all went into a little room before a tournament in November, and all the coaches wrote on pieces of paper and put them in a bowl, and a guy who was deemed neutral counted them. The guy had the decency to find me in a quiet moment, not in front of everyone, to shake my hand and say, “[Ryan’s real name] won the vote.”
I can still remember feeling like the sky fell down around me when he said it. It wasn’t just that I wouldn’t have the spot or that Ryan would still have it. It was that this was my region. I wasn’t best friends with all those people, but I knew them. I worked with them, I coached alongside them, we had a certain camaraderie from taking on the bigger cities together. Kids on my team were friends with kids on their teams. We were friendly at tournaments and other events. And all of them – it’s not just that they didn’t like me. It’s that they picked an abusive monster over me. Meaning they hated me a lot and/or were cool with an abusive monster, and this was the community to which I dedicated my life.
I’ve mentioned this happened in November, right? Did I mention it was November 2016? It was a week after Donald Trump got elected. If I’d won that spot, I’d have become the first woman ever to be elected to our provincial board. And I lost to this fucking guy. And had the nerve to be surprised, even after what I’d watched. Even after we’d just seen the American election results and learned that it turns out there are way more awful people within the random crowds around us than we’d initially thought.
For the rest of that season, I moved on, and coached my own team to some of the best competitive results we’d ever had. The next year, a few big things happened that shook up our entire sport – not just the little community of my region, but across the country. The biggest thing was a major coach getting arrested for sexually assaulting teenage girls on his team. It turned out he’d been doing it for over two decades, a lot of people knew, and it just kept getting covered up. It started a huge conversation.
It made me feel so many things. I read the court documents of what he’d allegedly done, and by the time I finished reading it I had tears on my face that I couldn’t even feel because I’d gone numb, and then I threw up in my garbage can. I have past experiences with sexual assault, but I’m relatively lucky in that I can usually hear stories about that sort of thing without them triggering me. Sometimes weird specific things will trigger me, but stories about sexual assault usually don’t. This one, though – this court document detailing what the guy did to those girls, it made me feel for the first time what it’s like to be hit full force by a trigger. I had nightmares for weeks.
The guy who got arrested, I didn’t know him well. But I knew who he was. I said hi to him at tournaments. I knew a bunch of people who’d once been on his team, competed for him. I liked him. He was friendly and he ran events well. He produced a lot of very good athletes. He was a central figure in the community. And all this time, I didn’t know. And all this time, other central people did know. People I worked with regularly, people I knew and liked, were friends with this guy. They’d known for years that he did stuff like this, and they’d looked away.
I felt so much guilt and so much anger and so much more than I can explain here, and I wanted to do something. So I read a lot more rules and a lot of precedents, I made a plan, and I contacted the president of the board about it. He agreed that This Is A Big Problem and Something Must Be Done, and he worked with me to implement my plan of creating an entirely new board spot to be basically Head of Women. In charge of Making Things Better For Women In The Sport.
We put this forward at the next AGM, and everyone agreed to create the spot, because they fucking had to, because you can’t vote against that after all that had happened. And then I got voted into that spot basically because I was the one who’d created it and no one else had time to prepare anything for it. Also I was only one of three women in the entire meeting of forty-ish people – there weren’t a lot of other options.
The year after that, the regulations said we could try again for regional elections. That inter-regional tournament was coming up, and it would be great if we could have someone in charge of our team who wasn’t a terrifying monster. Also, as #MeToo was rising and the arrest of that other guy sparked some conversations and I’d gotten this weird Director of Women position, I thought maybe it’s time to do something about the fact that there are multiple awful predatory men on the actual board. Maybe getting this one guy out of that one spot is a change we can make.
I was smarter this time. I knew so much more about how Ryan operated. I’d spent so much more time dealing with politics, and I knew what I was up against. I’d learned from my previous mistakes. I’d realized how many coaches went way back socially with Ryan, how deep the old boys club ran, how that would override a lot of other stuff. I was prepared to deal with that.
I asked around the region to see if anyone wanted to run against him, and no one really did. But then, an assistant coach from my own team said he’d be willing to do it. He was perfect. A nice guy, inoffensive. He wasn’t divisive and opinionated like me. He was older, he’d been around the sport for many years, but never in a major role, so he knew everyone but he’d never made any enemies. He was friendly. He wasn’t really tight with most of the other older coaches, but he was at least peripherally in the old boys’ club. I was sure he could win.
So I pretty much did what I’d done in 2016, but for someone else this time. That role came so much easier to me – I’ve always made a better campaign manager than candidate. I’m not meant to be the face of things, I’m meant to plan stuff. I did a lot of math. I calculated how many votes we needed to win, I made spreadsheets. I’d made more connections in the previous two years, so it was easier than it had been before for me to reach out to the rest of the region and ask if they’d consider voting for my friend, the nice inoffensive assistant coach. He’ll show up to the meetings and he’ll do his job and he won’t call your athletes pussies at youth tournaments! What more could you want?
Aside from the campaigning, I had a lot of work to do just to make the election happen. Ryan insisted that it should happen the following year, after the big tournament that I didn’t want him coaching, after he’d have time to move things around. I said no, it needs to happen in the fall. Regulations say it should happen every two years, and it happened in November two years ago, so if I request another one this November, they have to run one. I produced screenshots of bylaws in mass emails. I was always prepared.
The dispute went to the provincial board, and while I was on that board, of course I recused myself due to a conflict, so I wasn’t privy to their discussions. But during that time, an in-person board meeting happened. The meeting was mainly about much bigger things, but the issue of when to hold an election in our region was one of the agenda items. Honestly, I don’t know why Ryan and I were allowed to stay in the room, as we both had massive conflicts of interest. We should have been banished to the hallway to stand awkwardly together until they were done talking about us behind our backs. But no one kicked us out, and Ryan didn’t leave, so I didn’t either.
Ryan insisted that our region had never held an election in the fall before, so we couldn’t just set the precedent by doing that. I said that was ridiculous, they'd been held at many different times. He said no, they’d only been held at specific times, and not in the fall. I pointed out that the most recent election was in November, just two years ago. And he said no it wasn’t, there was no election at any time in 2016.
I think of this moment every time I hear the term “gaslighting”, as the moment I learned how deeply that can fuck you up. It’s not just the direct consequences of someone saying something untrue. It’s the cognitive dissonance of… wait, what level of reality are we operating on? The way gears struggle to grind in your brain while processing the sharp divergence from reality.
To be honest, when I think of it now, I guess this may be a case of not technically gaslighting. I think gaslighting is supposed to involve a more prolonged approach than just saying one thing in a meeting. Though to be fair, it was prolonged. He’d been talking shit in emails for a while before that, saying the same stuff about there being no precedent for a fall election. That meeting was just the first time I’d heard him say it in person, and hearing it in person hits so much harder.
I’ve been re-watching Last Week Tonight lately, and there’s this episode when they show a Tweet in which Donald Trump said he’d been invited on that show many times and had turned it down. John Oliver told us that, even though he knew Trump was a pathological liar, even though he was used to the lies, it was still shocking to read something that so directly contradicted reality as he knew it. He said that when he read that Tweet, he actually checked with his staff just to make sure they hadn’t invited Trump on and then somehow forgotten about it. Because there’s this sense that if someone confidently states an objective fact that’s so clearly untrue, maybe you have the facts wrong? Maybe the world is flat? John described reading that Tweet as genuinely disorienting, seeing someone describe a reality he personally knew did not exist. Because he was sure they’d never invited Trump on their show.
That’s how it felt to sit in a board meeting, across from a guy I ran against in an election two years previously, and hear him tell me that didn’t happen. I was shocked. I don’t know why I was so shocked because I know Ryan lies all the time, but I don’t usually hear it so directly and in person. I didn’t even know how to answer. Of course the election happened! People were there at the time! I was there, Ryan was there, about twenty other coaches were there. There’s a trail of emails that set the whole thing up. I shouldn’t need to say this. It happened! You can’t just erase reality and tell me that an entire event didn’t happen! It's not fair, it's cheating! I prepare so hard by reading all the rules and knowing all the facts, and then it all just gets thrown out!
As soon as I did that, I’d lost the argument. Everyone else in the room (a room consisting of me and one other woman about fourteen men, most of them twenty or so years older than me) started shaking their heads, and several people said this is clearly just an issue of intra-regional squabbling, and they shouldn’t get involved in our pretty drama. They declared that we can’t use them as a platform to work out stuff our little differences, and the election will be in the spring, as determined by our regional rep.
That’s when I made a mistake, and looking back, I realize that was all he wanted. I’d spent so many years learning how to deal with Ryan. How he runs cold, you’ll never see him give away too much at a time, so if you get emotional in response to him then you look like the hysterical one. In that board meeting, at the beginning of the argument, I’d been very very careful to remain measured and calm, so he wouldn’t be able to use anything against me. But when he said there was no election in the year that there clearly fucking was one, I dropped the composure and exclaimed, “Of course there was, I ran against you in it! You’re not allowed to just make stuff up!”
I went home, re-evaluated, and started planning again. Okay, it wasn’t ideal, but I still had the perfect candidate on my side. A few months went by, and my co-coaches and I did a lot of talking to people and using our connections. We had genuine friends in the region now, much more so than two years earlier. We knew how powerful an opponent we were facing, so we made sure to overprepare, to go after every vote, to assume every dicey possibility would go wrong, and to make sure we’d win anyway. By the time the election rolled around, we’d worked it all out. We did things with numbers over and over, and every way we looked at it, we couldn’t lose. If a few “maybes” went our way, we’d win comfortably. But even if all the “maybes” went against us, we’d still win by one vote.
This time, the vote took place by email, the day before the provincial championships. The next morning, my best friend and I were packing our bags to make the six-hour drive with our team to compete for the weekend. I checked my email just before we left, and saw a message that said “[Ryan’s real name] won the vote.”
The sky fell down again but I had to pull it together, because the road trip to the provincial championships is an important bonding time for our team. We piled into the truck and picked up teenagers and played music and had conversations and I held off from falling apart for hours. Once we got there, we had to get all our athletes accounted for and registered and I bit my tongue through the chaos. Finally, there was a moment of peace. My best friend and I escaped to the hallway outside the registration room, to try to figure out what had gone wrong. I remember standing there, counting on my fingers, trying to see a way it could have gone against us.
We did manage to find the answer, since we were at a gathering of all the people from our sport in the province, so of course we were able to find and talk to them. When we found the answer, it was a level of fucked up that we hadn’t even considered. A coach from another team was in the hospital following a suicide attempt, which we’d known about beforehand so we’d written his team off and said they had bigger fucking things going on and would abstain from the vote. It never, in a million years, would have occurred to me to try to talk politics with anyone from that team, as they were dealing with such a scary situation.
The night before the vote, Ryan reached out to that guy’s brother, who was an assistant coach on the team, was trying to hold things together in his brother’s absence, and didn’t know anything about the election because he wasn’t usually deeply involved. Ryan told the guy some lies about what was happening, gave him the right email address, and said, “Please send a message here saying you support me to stay in this position.” And the guy did, because he was busy getting ready to take his brother’s team to provincials while not knowing if said brother would pull through (he did survive, by the way), and did not have time to look into the situation further. That gave Ryan one extra vote that we’d counted on as an abstention, which meant we’d tied in the overall vote count. And regulations said that in the event of a tie, the incumbent stays in. It’s UFC rules – to be the champ you have to beat the champ.
I gave up on it after that. In the couple of years that followed, I was asked a few times why I’d stopped trying to get Ryan out of that spot, and I’d replied, “He beat me. He’s better at politics than I am. He’s unbeatable and I can’t even try to keep up.” I just can’t. About a month after that second election, I resigned from my own position on the board as well. I resigned due to a bunch of other issues, to realizing that I wasn’t making a difference there, and my presence was just being used as a shield to say, “See, we’re making positive changes, we have this woman.”
I remember that being such an emotional time. I’d fought so hard on so many fronts, far beyond what I’ve written about in this post. I’d wanted to win so badly. I’d really felt like I could make a difference, and things would get better. I cared so deeply about all the athletes who were affected by this, about all the people who’ve been hurt by this in the past and all the people who could have something better in the future.
COVID hit a year or so after that, and things shut down. I was very emotional at the beginning, devastated to lose this thing I loved. But over time, I started to shut down too. My Facebook feed filled up with racist conspiracy theories. The news showed me new depths that people could reach of not giving a shit about fellow humans. One of my friends died. I disconnected from my friend group, as they were pulled in another direction than I was. I watched a lot of British comedy.
Today, I resigned from another board. This is a much smaller one, the board of directors that deals with the administration of my own team. I’d been planning it for a while. I first thought of it in months ago, when it became clear that my values and vision don’t align anymore with what used to be my home. This team trained and competed without me for the whole 2021-2022 season, while I stayed home because I thought it wasn’t right to do this with the COVID risks. The people running it were my closest friends, and I intentionally disconnected from them to avoid building up more resentment than I already had, about how strongly I disagreed with the choices they were making.
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve realized just how much being involved at the board level is making me feel more negatively about it all. I’m trying to get the love of the game and the team and the community back, trying to get back the enjoyment of doing this with friends rather than it all being formal and stressful. I’m trying to make it feel like home again, and I need to step away from the parts that depress me. So I’ve resigned from a board, again.
A few days ago, all the coaches in my region got an email from the provincial board’s vice-president to say that Ryan has stepped down from his board spot, and I felt nothing. Everything I used to want so badly fell in my lap out of nowhere, and I felt absolutely nothing. I tried to make myself feel something. I tried to make myself remember how important that used to seem, before the world ended. I couldn’t. I still feel nothing. We need to elect someone to take his place, and if I offered to take the spot right now, I bet no one would run against me. But I am absolutely not going to do that.
Maybe someday, I’ll be back to caring, and that tournament with regional teams will come around, and I’ll realize we can send athletes without subjecting them to that monster, and then I’ll feel something. I’ll feel happy about this thing I learned about this week. But right now, in the light of everything else going on, I can’t get myself to feel like it matters. It used to matter so fucking much, I wrote this whole post to remember how much it used to matter. But now I just think there are so many more people like him, and the world is still on fire. Who cares?
Not to sound like a protagonist in a terrible cliched film noir or anything, but it turns out that switching off the parts of you that care about things can be easier than switching them back on.
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I believe everyone should read this.
I see the same thing happening in the West, now.
Remember in 2016, when the Russian IRA had been caught with their pants down on tumblr?
I remember so many people responding to that incident with the manufactured party-line:
"That was all just a cover-up. It was an excuse for tumblr's staff to hide their racism behind. They used this opportunity to delete anti-racist blogs."
Now, this doesn't say that the staff of tumblr has never acted in a racist manner... but you have to be smarter than that.
You have to think about the layers and layers of motivation, incentives, ideas that people are trying to push.
Some people who claim to be "on your side" may not actually have your best interest in mind. Sometimes, people lie.
"Oh, but we would never lie. This is much too serious of a topic to lie about.
You discredit our nation.
You discredit the subject if you approach us with equal scrutiny as anyone or anything else in the world. This is maaaaagic land!"
God forbid, I could call up the police station and claim that someone raped me, all for my own shits and giggles. It's a serious topic, but I have that capability to do it. We all have free will. I wouldn't do that. I think it's wrong, but I know that not everyone in the world has the same mind as I.
Can we live in idealism?
Is there a double-standard... where certain types of idealism are deemed publically unacceptable, yet others are set as public law?
Why one and not the other? Why inequality?
Why anything at all, if it's up to the whims of other people outside of yourself?
Why let them tell you how you should live?
You are alive independent of them. You keep breathing. You stand up.
"but you shouldn't be alive independent of me. I set you free. I am your freedom."
War = Peace
Slavery = Freedom
Ignorance = Strength
Do I have this down correctly?
I can't tell you what to think, either. You have to decide yourself, how you enjoy living. I can only show things that you see with your own eyes -- things you pick up with your own senses.
Do you need someone to tell you what you see, for you?
Did you wish that your eyes interpreted light into words for you... so that, Heaven forbid, you wouldn't have to deal with the chaos of the world as it is?
Why even be sentient?
Is your dream of a coma with a sweet aroma?
Do you just want to lie back in those silent waters and forget about the day?
Well, I'm sorry...
Your only umbilical cord is to God. No other mortal person will fully provide for you. You must live.
You are no longer a baby in your mom's tummy. Aren't you happy for your independence? All your dreams are right ahead of you.
I know you are of a divided self. One part of you longs for the womb, the other longs to stand on two legs.
All I can do is suggest to you, or pray for you.
I can give you words, but you must use them.
God is my strength. God is who I come from.
Beyond all...
Since I started off talking about the subject of communism:
I've seen people who have attempted to discredit criticism of past communist dictatorships.
Someone brought up the thousands of people who fled the countries, the thousands who didn't escape, the thousands who had been murdered by the state.
You know what they said?
"Oh yeah, all those richie-rich bourgeoisie people fleeing, to preserve their wealth! We fight in the name of the proletariat!"
"Omg, stupid Americans! Your precious capitalism has killed thousands, too! Your police state is no different..."
I don't think the latter statement is true. I've known people who lived in countries that were under communist rule. This book, the Captive Mind, goes into great detail about what it was like as a person living in Poland, before and during communist rule.
I say that I started to see the same 'thing' in the West. I see it in the attitude of Social-Justice Progressivism.
I believe the issues are often legitimate, but they have been used like puppets in a stage-show: An attempt to manipulate the minds of good-willed people.
Perhaps the issues are legitimate: but keep in mind how an issue is being spoken about. Pay attention to the solutions being proposed. I suggest taking your time to consider the full effects that any solution would have on the life of a person living in society.
Think beyond yourself right now. Think of yourself as a child. Think of your parents, friends, colleagues. Think of all the future dreams. Even the ones buried underground. Are they corpses, or lily bulbs that sprout when the weather warms up?
Is your winter forever?
I say not.
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nie mingjue’s outfits appreciation post
This is way longer than I expected oh gods, please forgive me for it.
It’s a well known fact that Jiang Cheng has the best wardrobe of all CQL characters, I’m not here to argue with that, but I think it’s time for us to stop sleeping on Nie Mingjue’s absolutely fantastic fashion sense.
I mean have you seen him?? The man is out there serving looks even with the Nie sect limited color palette. Please let’s ignore the context here and just look at his robes
I wasn't sure if I should rank them, so I’ll just ramble about them in order of appearance:
1. The gray “I’m the boss” one
That’s the first time we ever see him and what can I say? He does leave an impression. We see him using these robes two times, in episodes 10-11 and on the beggining of Fatal Journey, as the first picture shows, which makes me wonder: Is this his stay-at-home set of robes? ‘Cause damn
I don’t know how I should comment on the particular details of his robes but I really appreciate how wide this extra fabric layer makes his shoulders look.
Really imposing and powerful look.
2. The Sunshot incredibly beautiful "this is how you win a war" one
Look, this one might be my favorite, it has EVERYTHING
Shoulder game is strong here, and this bronze-like color goes really well with his belt. Now let's talk about his outer robe for a moment, just THE COLOR I mean it's the prettiest shade of gray I've ever seen.
Also Long Sleeves
And a CAPE. A f**king CAPE. I'll never get over this look and I'm really glad the costume department let this king wear a cape again in Fatal Journey, he was made for it.
Next comes the inner layer that's not really a robe, as you can see when he's standing, but the silver pattern is what really does it for me, guys. It's probably the first thing you see once you look down from his face, 'cause I know we all get lost on that beautiful mustache, and it's perfect.
You can’t lead a war campaign if you don’t look good, I see.
3. The "I didn't really want to be here but I’m looking good anyway" one
It's so dark, it probably reflects how he was feeling during pretty much all the scenes he's in while wearing it.
Once again he accentuates his shoulders with an extra fabric except this time his sleeves are not long at all. I personally think he looks even more handsome like this, it makes his arms look bigger. What is it called? I don't know, but it matches his belt as well.
( Is it really a belt, guys? I don't wanna disrespect but I don't even know where to start looking for names nor I know other english names for belts)
The subtle golden/bronze details on the outer robe and on the inner robe's collar contrasts really well with the black and dark gray
Sad thing he looked really miserable wearing it :c
4. The "big event he seemed ok with attending" one
Dark again. But he didn't look as depressed as in the previous one, he actually had fun that day, which is good. Enough of tears and betrayal for now.
May be the wider sleeves he ever wore, perfect for clapping his hands like a happy toddler. There's also a lovely flowery pattern on the darker robe that you can easily miss if you don't pay enough attention.
For the first time his shoulders are not accentuated by fabric or shoulder pads and it's really nice to see him like this. We all love a buff Mingjue, but CQL Mingjue is not that buff and I love him just as much.
Really elegant, not as imposing and he has every right to want to look civil for once. It may be the series' way of telling us that he's not dressed for real combat or war, who knows.
5. The "all this just for a flashback?" one
Listen, this one right here is just AMAZING
I don't understand why they dressed him so beautifully for what? 10 minutes of a flashback. I wanted to see it for more than a couple os scenes!!
Everything here is different, so this will take time.
First: His inner robe, the first one, is not the usual black, it's light gray, it's lighter than his robes actually, and we don't see him wearing it like ever again since chronologically in the series this is the first robe he wears. Does it secretly mean that all went wrong from the moment he met MY? who knows
Second: The outer robe is fancy. There’s so many details to it and it may be the lighting of the scene, but it seems to be a warmer shade of gray, doesn’t it? The golden\bronze thin strip around the silver larger strip is perfect. It kinda has the opposite effect of his shoulder pads, since it makes his shoulders look a bit smaller but it’s so very elegant.
Third: The upper part of the inner robe. I mean who gave him the right to look that good ??? It’s dark but it has golden little shapes in it!! And it kinda looks like there’s a zipper in there because of that mid section. And oh to be a single jewel resting over Sect Leader Nie’s chest...
Fourth: The bottom part of the robe is also something new. We see pleats on Huaisang’s main robes, but never on Mingjue’s until now, that’s why I took the last screenshot, nothing to do with the bloody Baxia at all. I wish we could have seen them in pretty pleated robes together.
It probably contradicts what I said about his shoulder things being a code for battle, since the first thing we see him doing with this outfit is killing some guy/puppet; but for the rest of the time he wears it is peaceful
Honestly, imagine how Meng Yao felt. It was some fairy tale thing, wasn’t it? You’re a nobody eating bread and drinking water and then this king pops up out of nowhere and defends you from bullying and offers you a job and takes you home with him??
6.The “kick your local murderer down the stairs” one
I don’t really know what to say about this one. The context kind of ruined it for me, but let’s try.
It resembles the fourth outfit since it’s a really dark inner robe and a lighter and patterned outer robe. Except this one has this nice and shiny thin strips around the sleeves and the waist.
It’s pretty but not especially pretty in my opinion. If I were to rank the outfits, this one would rank last.
7. The “fighting qi deviation and needing emotional support” one
Fatal Journey, baby.
I know what I said about the second one, but this might be my favorite. It’s practical, no long sleeves or heavy outer robes. It’s also appropriate for horse riding, wich is great. The simple, sleeveless light gray outer robe is really nice.
There’s a cape again!! And I have to say the cape looks even better now that his sleeves are tighter, the way it falls gracefully on his back is perfect. I love the way it seems to be attached to the shoulder pad too.
The robes are simple but the thing is: The accessories are not.
His belt is now silver and if we ignore that the production team just painted it, we can assume he has two sets of identical waist belts, one is bronze and the other is silver. Now the final touch: The shoulder pads. This is what makes this outfit the most extra of them all. It’s silver and just so, so pretty I wanna cry everytime I look at them. I mean, the layers, the dragon\beast entire head makes him look so fierce and ready for the fight.
I wonder how comfortable they are tho.
10/10 would rank first place.
bonus: Baby Mingjue
We love a consistent king after all! Has he been wearing dark robes since he was a baby? We will never know. I love this dark yet translucent outer robe tho.
1000/10 the cutest and best dressed child out there.
Conclusion: Nie Mingjue is a fashion icon!
* Do not take this too seriously, I did zero research and english is not my first language. If there’s any terrible grammar mistakes, point them to me and i’ll edit it. If I’m somehow disrespecting Chinese culture, please also point it to me and I’ll apologize, edit or even delete the post.
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things from the asoue movie
(i personally think did better than netflix asoue, with “honorary mentions” that i can tolerate in ways.)
1. the movie soundtrack. thomas newman composes a lot of good scores, and everything in the asoue movie soundtrack is no exception (drive away is a real head banger). the fact it’s all on youtube, means one can jam to it whenever they go on youtube (i’m guilty of this). i love the netflix soundtrack a lot as well because shoot that is jim dooley’s music (i love his music ever since pushing daisies came out!). but netflix...where’s the official soundtrack? the fact jim dooley’s youtube channel has him uploading songs via request means he’s the only one to listen to the fans who want the show’s soundtrack is why the movie did better because of netflix’s poor treatment by not releasing it. it has to be jim dooley himself having to do it (and i appreciate him doing so because omg i can finally hear the tpp version ‘that’s not how the story goes’ without lemony talking over *tears up*)
2. the vfd group photo. everyone in the photo feels all organic and real. you got members sitting on the floor and steps. some members are standing. some members smiling happy to be there, or with neutral expressions because they don’t want to be there. some are in gestures of sorts (ike is flexing his arm like a goofball; that’s a nice touch to flesh out a dead minor character). it almost feels like the movie team decided ‘since we have the budget, we should get billy connolly, meryl streep, and others to take a photo and we’re telling them they can do whatever they want’. netflix’s vfd feels artificial and very, fake in ways. i don’t want to say it’s a bad photoshop, because group photos can have everyone stand in neat little row all smiles, but some heads feel...off. like, something feels really off with larry, ike, and uh, the guy i think is lemony who is clearly got the worst of it. is that a bad photoshop?
3. the littlest elf. the movie made that elf have a (minor) presence from beginning to end. there’s the fake out opening. the theme song from the fake out opening is heard three more times (twice in-verse, and it’s the final song in the credits) and it’s annoyingly catchy. olaf having a bobble head doll so shoot that means it’s popular franchise in the movie world. the movie made the littlest elf a thing, and netflix only makes it a word-of-mouth reference. what’s weirder for netflix is gustav despite having more of a character and kept his director status (unlike movie!gustav), never bring up this horrific masterpiece and the connection between the two (that i can recall). like, this is not cool, netflix!
4. movie!monty being able to carry snakes and having a personal snake. the movie probably had the budget to do so unlike netflix, but monty in any continuity would carry a snake with him if possible, even for a short amount of time. movie!monty goes up a level by being a giddy herpetologist with his own personal pet snake he loves and adore (sidenote: movie!monty, that’s why petunia thinks you’re a tree you always carry her around. you spoil her rotten). netflix!monty with the winged lizard is not the same vibe, because it’s cgi. i think netflix!monty should have hold a real snake for at least a minute, as a treat.
5. two-thirds of the wide window section. it’s not that i think the netflix version is bad, for i do enjoy it. but there’s so many details in the movie version i enjoy: josephine and her poofy black mourning dress. klaus dissociating in the kitchen and josephine losing it. josephine casually telling the children ‘oh no he [ike] got eaten by leeches’ and the baudelaires are all (O_o) and sunny speaks for them all. the fact josephine is strong enough to pull the chain to show off the wide window all by herself and violet and klaus are still (O_o). josephine screaming at the jane lynch cameo + “we got to get her out of the house.”. sunny accidentally dropping the apple basket. klaus tackling captain sham shamelessly. the baudelaires getting accuse of shoplifting. everything about hurricane herman, especially with josephine’s fears coming true. klaus assuming violet may kill them all with her plan to get off the platform.
the fact that the deleted/extended version of josephine’s death is so messed up (josephine realizing she can’t jump, josephine allowing herself to sit back on the boat, crying as she apologizes, the fog covering her and the boat), i truly think the wide window was the book the movie team attempted to do the series right in their own way, but meddling got involve.
and now, honorary mentions.
honorary mention 1: movie!powder face women ages. i don’t know what is up with their personalities (i’m including deleted scenes), but you know what? the movie team did cast two actresses who fit the age range of the sbg. had the movie continued in hypothetical sequels, i would have 100% believe their recruitment into vfd is connected to the loss of their sibling in a fire. netflix!powder face women are older than their movie counterparts (and maybe book counterparts, taking brett helquist’s illustrations of them as them being on the younger side), so when netflix decided to make ishmael the creator of vfd, they pretty much made a giant hole of a contradiction over their statement of losing a sibling to a fire (unless they aged very badly). netflix due to their major changes of vfd, made the movie look good in a weird way. honorary mention because movie series is dead in the water, and their characterization.
honorary mention 2: the baudelaire’s mansion. the exterior only shows up for one second in its glory before fernald stabs his hook into the photo, but given how the ruins are shown a lot, it’s easy to tell the mansion isn’t super huge, but still huge and noticeable. its location being in middle of the street holding a corner spot of sorts means looking from high above does give the illusion it’s in the ‘heart of a dirty and busy city’. the netflix mansion...it’s something. the netflix mansion looks like it’s borderline on a suburb neighborhood, and the mansion takes up six lots like this not what i thought in mind. it’s honorary mention because the exterior shows up for one second (and i’m not sure how to feel about the interior).
honorary mention 3: movie!lemony hiding his face 24/7. netflix!lemony showing his face is because he’s narrating the series from the future. whenever (past) netflix!lemony shows up, there’s is a sense (future) netflix!lemony is trying to avoid narrating himself because it screams, “oh hey that’s me! oh wait that’s me. i’m just...going to go.” and he leaves and only comes back after he’s certain past!lemony is gone. as much i as actually enjoy what netflix did, i do like the ‘i’m not going to show my face, suckers’ angle lemony has in the books.
the movie carries this over. lemony’s face is always not in the shot because the movie is showing his body head down, obscure by shadows, or do show his face but partly. the whole ‘my ribbon just jam’ bit still has lemony still refusing to not show his face. in fact, it’s hard to find a shot where his face is ‘visible’ without editing the lighting and shadows and what not until the ending, when lemony gets his transcript out of the typewriter due to the lighting of the lamp:
it’s a honorary mention because excluding lemony having no shame on interrupting the fake out opening, no shame on telling the audience to jump out the airplane if they’re watching the movie there, the ‘ribbon just jammed’ moment (if only because movie!lemony blank out afterwards), and technically lemony being melancholic after looking out the spyglass (lemony would totally do that, but in a different context), movie!lemony doesn’t do a lot of things that make him be, well, lemony. that, and movie!lemony’s aesthetics still confuses me to this day.
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AO3′s users alert! Unauthorised fanworks copying
26/09/2019. Important update on this mess: we found a way to delete fanworks via take down request to the hosting provider. Please check it here https://do-a-reference-properly.tumblr.com/post/187926459079/finally-some-good-news
Dear AO3 users,
We would like to bring your attention to an ugly situation with unauthorized copying of works posted on AO3.
A lot of works from AO3 have been copied to fanfics.me (we’ll call this site FFM for brevity’s sake) and are still being copied right now, either:
— automatically by a code specifically created by FFM’s owner for this purpose, or
— by unaware or unscrupulous FFM’s users via semi-automatic method (by inserting a link to a work from AO3 into a web-worm on FFM).
All works from AO3 — with a few exceptions (I’ll elaborate on this below) — can end up on FFM without authors even noticing. Even fanarts or podfics.
FFM doesn't comply with DMCA which means that such reposts endanger fanworks' creators in case the copyright holder demands to delete the fanwork.
Authors of the copied works do not have any control over them; if the work is edited it won’t be updated on FFM until someone manually updates it.
Additionally FFM’s owner makes money out of reposted free fanworks from numerous Google and Yandex ads on each and every FFM’s page by having people go to this site when searching for fics on Google etc. So we recommend using an Ads Blocker when visiting this site in order to prevent the owner from earning more. Ghostery or Adblock Plus work just fine, but you can use any other Ads Blocker that is convenient to you.
Oftentimes FFM even shows up before the original post with the work on Google search results.
The owner at AO3.
We are trying to bring AO3’s users attention to this situation and help authors with taking their works down from FFM.
Briefly about the website and its owner
Let me start from the very beginning as it will bring into the light the nature of FFM and give a good example of its owner characteristic behavior.
At first, some person with nickname Refery created FFM as a web archive where authors — mostly from Harry Potter fandom — could publish their fanworks.
Time passed, the site grew and added some features (blogs, pre-moderation and etc.), and all was good and well up till the moment when Refery decided that it would be a great idea to copy to FFM fanworks published on other Russian fanfiction archives — among them from the biggest and most known site ficbook — without asking authors for permission. Even those works that had “Ask me before posting the story somewhere else” mentioned in its text or summary were copied.
For some time nobody noticed, but when finally and inevitably this came out the authors were outraged. It took a lot of time to finally persuade Refery to at least not to copy fanworks bearing a special tag “Уточнять у автора” (Ask the author first).
But after some time Refery — without giving any notice — violated his own promise and resumed copying to FFM fanworks that had the agreed upon tag. The authors complained again, so very reluctantly and after many painful discussions this feature was reinstalled.
So FFM has been notoriously known, mostly amongst Russian fandom, for claims on re-posting fanworks without the consent of the authors.
We're mentioning this situation just to give you a detailed portrait of a person we are dealing with here.
Not only fanworks are copied to this website, but original works, too. Even those which were already published. There were all 7 of Harry Potter novels (both original text and translation), The Hobbit: There and Back Again (translation) and Vorkosigan Saga (translation) available for everybody to read and download. They were taken down only recently due to the attention this whole situation had drawn, but nothing ever goes away once it’s posted online and you can access the proof via Internet Wayback machine. We know for a fact there are other books on FFM and some actions have been taken in this regard, but still it takes time to find published books on this site.
Recently Refery decided that Russian archives are not enough for him and started copying all fanworks into FFM without any permission from the authors from numerous sites, like AO3, fanfiction.net, fictionpress.com, fanfiktion.de and likely other web-archives.
Moreover, the authors of these works can not delete their works from FFM and/or manage them. The site is in Russian only and, hence, we strongly believe that non-Russian speaking authors even do not know that their works are reposted somewhere else.
As a Russian fan-community, we have tried to stop such activity of FFM many times; however, we have not been successful in achieving our goal completely. Our most recent achievement is that the FFM’s owner implemented the "Don't copy to another site" tag created specifically for AO3 (here is the link to FFM’s owner post on his personal blog regarding this tag. Please use Ads Blocker!). This tag should be added to each work presented on AO3 in case the author does not want their works to be copied to FFM.
We are of the opinion that no work should be taken without permission in the first place, but this tag is all we’ve got.
Please note that it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.
How to prevent copying from AO3
If you check AO3 you may notice that "Don't copy to another site" tag has hugely emerged in the recent weeks, but mostly amongst Russian users and there is a good reason for this: the owner of FFM announced this tag only in Russian and only on his private blog, so naturally there is no way for non-Russian speaking AO3 users to know about this — albeit non-satisfactory — solution.
There are no guaranties that the FFM’s owner won’t change the rules again as has already happened numerous times before (few examples we described above) and that works with this tag won’t be reposted in the future, but for now it’s the only quick and working solution besides making your works visible only to registered users, which is not ideal.
This situation is highly unpleasant, but we ask you not to delete your works from AO3, because if the work is deleted from AO3 it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM: we won't be able to refresh it manually and remove the text.
Please note that adding this tag won’t work for texts that have already been copied. Only users who have accounts at FFM will be able to delete them. Each work needs to be deleted manually.
However, the Russian fandom — except for the owner of FFM — strongly condemns reposts without the consent of the author, so feel free to contact our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing the links to the works stolen from AO3, so we could delete them for you.
Unfortunately, it is not possible to cover all authors and works manually. So, we contacted AO3’ Technical Team with the aim to bring their attention to this situation and inform about it all AO3 users, and hope that AO3 team will find a general solution to resolve this problem, possibly, in collaboration with the AO3 lawyers.
We are trying to warn as many authors as possible and recently started spreading this information via comments on AO3; but considering the number of works copied to FFM informing all authors will take considerable time, and we can easily miss someone, especially since the copying is still in progress and new works from AO3 are appearing on FFM every day.
Please help us spread the word!
We tried to make a comprehensive FAQ about this. Feel free to ask if anything is unclear!
FAQ
Q: Can I check if my work was copied to FFM?
A: Yes, you can.
FFM makes money on Google and Yandex ads, so we recommend turning on the Ads Blocker of your choice before visiting this site.
Please follow this link, insert the title of your work or your AO3/other web-archive nickname into the field containing the words "insert-title-nickname" and hit "Искать" (Search).
For works rated Mature or Explicit you will be able to see only the caption "Текст произведения доступен только зарегистрированным пользователям старше 18 лет" ("The text of the work is available only to registered users over 18 years old"), but FFM users are able to read and download the story.
Q: My work from AO3 was copied. How can I take it down?
A: First of all add the tag "Don't copy to another site" (without “ “) to the stories you want to be taken down.
Actually we would recommend adding this tag to all the works you don't want to be copied.
Contact one of our volunteers (through DM or Ask on our tumblr page) providing links to your works or send an e-mail with your deletion request directly to the FFM owner at
[email protected] or at AO3.
There is a third option: to register on FFM and delete the work yourself by hitting the refresh button, but considering that the site is in Russian we do not think it will be very convenient to those who do not speak Russian language.
Q: I got the message that my work has been deleted. How can I check if it is true?
A: You can go to FFM, search for you work, click on its title and scroll down.
After the summary there is a field that should look like this for those fics that have been deleted.
Basically it says that the author of this particular work has forbidden its copying and that only the information on its title, author’s nickname, rating, pairings, summary and the link to original post on AO3 are available.
For works that are still available on FFM this field looks like this (if the work is open for non-registered users).
Q: My work copied from AO3 was deleted, but FFM still shows some information on it. Can it be deleted?
A: Even though the text of the fic is not going to be on FFM anymore after it has been deleted, the fic's title, author's name, rating, pairings, summary and link to original post on AO3 will remain there.
The deletion of this leftover information can be done only by the site owner himself.
Some Russian authors tried to make him to delete it, but in most cases the FFM’s owner refused them mentioning that publication of such information is in line with fair use concept and doesn’t violate authors’ rights.
We are yet unsure how to delete this leftover information. In case you need it as well, try contacting the FFM owner at
[email protected] or at AO3. Maybe e-mails of a large number of authors will work, but unfortunately we can’t guarantee anything. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).
Q: My work from fanfiction.net/fictionpress.com/fanfiktion.de/other web-archives was copied to FFM. How can I take it down?
A: Unfortunately, there is no possible way for us to delete from FFM the fanworks that are copied from web-archives other then AO3. Only FFM’s owner can delete these works, please try contacting him at
[email protected] or at AO3. In case you need it, we can provide Russian text for you to send by e-mail (please contact our volunteers through DM or Ask on our tumblr page).
Please do not delete your works from the web-archive it was stolen from, because if the work is deleted it will be nearly impossible to delete it from FFM.
Also it seems that some time ago there was similar case of unauthorized copying with other site. Please check this link, they give useful advice.
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Quarantine -3
It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on. I stared at the ceiling. I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster. Some other living thing in the house. I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.
“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,” I muttered to myself. Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream. “Fuck it.” I got undressed and crawled under the covers. I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over. Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.
“Nick?” I wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Can you move the bed to another room?”
“I can. I don’t want to. I like having you where I can see you.”
I nodded. “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”
“Go! To! Sleep!”
I jumped then started to shake. “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.
The bedroom door slammed shut. Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge. “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.
The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door. I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.
The cops were still right there.
“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called. After that they were all looking at me.
I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving. I needed to get out of here. I needed a smoke. I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.
Oh god. I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.
I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.
“Ma’am! Go inside!”
“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained. “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month. I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”
“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.
“I’m more than six feet away from you. Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”
“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress. I should go in and at least get my robe. It was in the room with Nick’s closet.
I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them. Prison wouldn’t have Nick. Maybe I just needed a hospital. No. That was a death sentence these days.
He was driving me off. He had flat out told me that he was good at that.
“Are you alright, ma’am?”
“No!” I snapped. “I’m scared.”
He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now. You will be safe in your house.”
I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.
“Go inside,” he said gently. “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”
I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen. Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee. When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re welcome. This is temporary. You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.
The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall. It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed. I looked at it. Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”
“How did you pay for this?”
“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”
“Great. Did they say how long it would take?”
There was no answer to that.
“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,” I mused. “At least there will be some other people around.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t have walls the next day. In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down. They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom. The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident. I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal. Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.
One half the team turned up the next day. No one commented on why that was.
I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard. I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking. It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it. My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen. I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.
Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.
One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.
I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.
“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.
I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”
He frowned, “I’ll ask around. Do you have tiles yet?”
“No,” I admitted.
“That might be the hard part. You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”
“Shit.”
He gave me a look of sympathy. “Yeah. There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”
“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.
He nodded, “I’ll ask around. It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”
Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning. I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning. Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere. I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth. I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink. Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck. I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”
That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.
“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear. “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”
I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly. “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”
“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick. Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”
I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week! It was only a couple of days!”
“You should check your calendar. It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”
“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”
He didn’t say anything. When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information. I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.
I kind of didn’t want to. What if he was telling the truth?
I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette. Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then. This was ridiculous! Shadow monsters didn’t … do that! They didn’t … exist. I was just … this wasn’t happening!
I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass. I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp. Now I was cold and damp instead. Fuck.
When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles. ‘Fine. Whatever. Pick something nice that I can afford.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it. I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.
I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”
Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France. But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”
I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face. “Do you like what he picked out?” She seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Yes? It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install. It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week. I’m not exactly over run with work right now.” She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know. I could really use the income, to be honest.”
“Yeah. I understand that. I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”
“I really appreciate that. The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,” Nancy pointed out.
“Ok. Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”
I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling. “What are you doing, Nick?”
“Making a home for you,” he whispered.
“Can I even afford this? You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”
There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”
I froze. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.
Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”
I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress. My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg. As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished. I groaned.
“What are you doing?”
“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.
I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”
“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash. That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.
I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”
He didn’t answer that one. “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”
Now it was my turn to be silent.
“You liked that toy,” he prompted. “I liked watching you enjoy yourself. Good for everyone.”
“That’s really creepy. Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”
“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied. Then he added, “For either of us. And I am not a normal person.”
“I noticed.”
“Would we have fucked by now if I was?” he just sounded curious. The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.
“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”
The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that. I closed my eyes and he stroked my face. “Let me watch,” he purred. “I can feel how badly you want.”
That made my eyes snap open. “What?”
“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure. I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand. And I am very aware of your frustration.”
“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”
“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.
“A guardian? Is that what you are?”
“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”
“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.
“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time. And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked. “I’m too damn tired!” I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”
“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.
“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out. “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”
“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him. It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.
I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand. “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one. And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time. That’s why I asked you not to. But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”
“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”
“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to. This is about trust, Nick. I don’t trust you. I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here. You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death. You could smother me with my pillow. Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.” I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas. “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.” He let go of my hand. I turned on the light and looked around the empty house. “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”
“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.” It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing. “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep. I will do my very best not to be scary.”
I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight. I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”
I felt the bed dip. It didn’t always do that. “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”
“Ok,” I acknowledge.
It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat. He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again. It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then. At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.
In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.
I wondered how you forge wine.
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the boy in the bookstore (part one)
in which you meet a suspiciously handsome boy in your favorite bookstore- but are not cultured enough to know his true identity.
ateez scenario
yeosang x (fem) reader
word count: 1.5k
g: fluff, angst if you’re a sensitive bitch
warnings: none really, light kissing and possible innuendo in later parts
notes:
there are a few things that may turn inconsistent for you personally (aka the POV being american, bilingual, etc. nothing major tho!)
also: if you enjoyed this, i am 100% looking for requests. can be aus, scenarios, or whatever! (atm i can write for atz, skz, bts, and itzy)
happy reading!!
part one
the morning of november 12th is a dreary one. when you wake up, you have little to no motivation to go to work. it's a downcast, rainy day, and seoul looks as sad as it's probably capable of looking.
work is slow. you work on your current project, but writing today feels like this: you write out a sentence. then you delete it. and then you rewrite the exact same sentence. you do this for eight hours, and by the end of it, the air seems thick with your desire to leave.
as you leave the building, a few coworkers try to spark conversation.
“oh, y/n-ssi, you should come have soju with us later, we-”
“hey, y/n! do you want to-”
you don't let any of them finish. today had not been not your day. actually, when was the last time any day had been “your day?” you are exhausted, burnt out. you miss your family, who are busy living halfway across the world. you miss your father, long dead after a tragic accident when you were young. you miss the fleeting friendships of your childhood. you miss what it felt like to have someone greet you as you came home after a long day. you miss being loved.
as you begin your long walk home, a thought occurs to you. when had you last visited the bookshop? it had probably been a while since you’d seen mrs. seon… maybe you should stop by. after all, a trip to the 30 year old bookshop might brighten your mood.
twenty minutes later, you shuffle awkwardly through the front doors of “bookshop”, careful not to get your dripping shoes too close to the new releases. and yes, the store was called “bookshop”. in reality, the store had simply never been named, but everyone who visited it knew it as just the bookshop. you glance around, hoping to find mrs. seon, but she was nowhere in sight. that was alright though… more time to browse. you scrape the last bits of rain off your boots and wander towards the back of the store. this was your favorite part of the whole establishment, and that was saying something. the whole shop was filled to the brim with battered books- centuries old classics, modern literature, old journals of long dead men… and many of the books were not korean, but european or american. this was possibly the most diverse bookstore in seoul. you adore it. but the back of the store was especially amazing. this was where the seon family kept the american classics. authors like john steinbeck and f. scott fitzgerald lined the shelves, their colorful spines making a bold statement about the content within. most were old, beaten up copies, but many of them were in english- something you secretly love.
letting loose a small smile, you run your fingertips along the book spines. suddenly, you see a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye. you whirl around, swiveling your body to your left. and in front of you, not even six feet away, is a boy. a...a beautiful boy. you feel your breath catch. holy shit, he was gorgeous. pale blond hair frames a sharp, tanned face- the boy has sleek, judging eyes, and higher-than-god-himself cheekbones. for a moment you just stare. you can’t help it. but the boy doesn't look up. you lower your eyes again, shifting your attention back to the books. honestly, you aren't sure why you’d reacted like that. he hadn’t said or done anything. and though he is attractive, you are relatively uninterested. this is a bookstore, after all. this is where people came when they didn’t want to talk to people.
a few minutes pass quietly, and you continue to browse the books. after finally deciding on a collector’s copy of steinbeck’s east of eden, you look up again. and there he is. looking right at you. as soon as your eyes connect with his, though, his shoot back down to the phone in his hand. you blink, wondering if he needs anything.
another beat passes. he glances up again, and this time, you force him to hold your gaze, shooting him a small smile. you see his eyes widen slightly before you turn on your heel and head towards the front of the store.
by the time you reach the checkout counter, an employee is there to assist you. she smiles and makes small talk while bagging your new treasure, then sends you on your way. no longer thinking about the blond boy, you pull up your hood and leave to head home.
only a few minutes had passed since you’d left the store when it happens. you feel odd, like someone is watching you...at first you think you’re imagining things, but as you turn around, you are face to face with the boy from the bookstore. a small gasp escapes your lips.
“oh,” is the first thing he says.
you take a step back. "oh-uh," you stumble to find the right words. "hello."
without a word, the boy straightens his stance and reaches towards you. instantly wary, you take another step back. but his arm stops short. resting in his slim hand is a small brown wallet. wait- your wallet. you hesitate, then begin to dig through your shoulder bag. sure enough, the wallet is absent. you look back up into his brown eyes, startled by the intensity of his gaze.
"you- you dropped this." he says quietly.
his voice also startles you. it has a low pitch, but is painfully soft. it reminds you of something, but you don't know what.
"oh, wow. thank you so much," you manage, reaching for the wallet. as you take it, his long fingers brush yours; the lightest touch. his hands are freezing.
"your hands are so cold!" you remark, surprising yourself. talking to strangers in the street. what have you become, y/n?
the young man's pride must have faltered, and his ears turn an endearing pink color.
"it's getting cold out, you really should wear some gloves or something."
he raises his eyebrows. "you aren't wearing any either."
without missing a beat, you respond: "i run hot."
a smile plays at his lips. "well then, i guess i'll wear gloves next time."
up close, you notice he is even more beautiful than you had anticipated. he wears no visible makeup, and he has a big pink birthmark near one of his eyes. it's mesmerizing. by now, you've completely forgotten about your foul mood from earlier.
"by the way," he continues, still speaking quietly. "are you a regular at that shop?"
you pause. "i guess you could say so. i know the owners pretty well, too. mrs. seon is practically my mom here..." you chuckle.
he tilts his head. "what do you mean?"
"oh, it's just that my own family doesn't live here." you pause, and decide you need to elaborate. "i'm american."
his eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. "oh, are you? i wouldn't have known. your korean is amazing."
"well, it is my first language, so i'd hope so." you laugh a little. "but yeah, my family lives in america. i moved here when i was sixteen- i wanted to be an idol." you admit.
this seems to take him by surprise.
you continue without being prompted. "i was a trainee for a few years, but... it just.. it didn't work out. but when it was over, i realized i just couldn't force myself to leave korea. i love it too much."
he nods. "i think i know what you mean."
"so i'm just a student now. turns out i probably should have planned to go to school even if i had debuted... oops."
he nods again, his face remaining neutral and distant.
realizing how much you had just revealed, your body stiffens. "anyways. um, it was nice meeting you-" you pause. he hadn't told you his name.
"yeosang." he said, reading your mind. "my name is yeosang."
"oh. well, it was nice to meet you, yeosang, but i really should be going."
he hesitates, opening his mouth as if to say something. but he closes it and gives a small smile. "okay."
you give a small bow and turn to leave, but he catches you by the arm. "but wait, i want to know your name, too."
you glance back at him, into his eyes, which are shining with hardly hidden curiosity. "y/n." you say.
"y/n," he repeats, as if committing it to memory. "okay, now you can go."
and with that, the two of you parted, going back home to two very different lives.
edit: part two is up now. thank you for reading!!
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general kuroo/tsukishima headcanons (sfw and nsfw)
I’ve had this rambling draft saved for over a year but for @alfonse I’ll make it public <3
general/sfw HCs for kuroo
His love languages are quality time and physical touch, obviously.
He’s a Scorpio sun, but I imagine his rising sign is Capricorn and moon sign is Gemini >:)
Needs at least 8 hours of sleep each night or he will be grumpy the next morning. He’s a deep sleeper and moves around a lot.
Kuroo may act thick-headed at times, but don’t be fooled, he’s smart, intuitive, and incredibly aware of his surroundings. Moreover, he has a strong memory and never forgets anything. This makes studying for him relatively easy. He tends to do well in school with little effort, especially in the subjects he cares most about (i.e. chemistry and physics). His grades in other classes like history and literature are more on the average side, however.
(this was before Kuroo was a confirmed capitalist) Kuroo would study something in line with these interests at university. I envision him becoming a chemical engineer and doing research in a lab setting (pls take this moment to imagine him in goggles, gloves, and a lab coat).
Kuroo sometimes falls back into his shy habits from time to time. Volleyball has gotten him out of his shell and he’s fine making friends at school, but if he’s in an uncomfortable situation, he tends to be on the quieter side.
Once he decides he likes someone, he really likes them. Kuroo isn’t the type of person to half-ass anything, especially relationships. He either loves you, hates you, or is indifferent.
Kuroo is a naturally good dancer and he knows it. He’s got surprising rhythm and has no shame showing off his skills.
He’s a total lightweight when it comes to drinking. He doesn’t drink often, so whenever he does, the alcohol hits him hard. Generally, he’s a happy, giggly drunk. He’ll start off the night loud and talkative, but eventually the sleepiness will set in and some unlucky soul (usually Kenma) will be tasked with taking him home.
general/sfw HCs for tsukishima
His love languages are quality time and acts of service. Tsukishima is bad when it comes to open communication. Rarely does he say “I love you” to his friends/family. He’d rather let his actions and service speak for themselves.
He’s a Libra sun, but I imagine both his rising sign is Aquarius and moon sign is Virgo.
A light sleeper. Tsukishima averages about 6-5 hours each night.
He is the worst dancer you’ve ever seen and you couldn’t pay him to make a fool of himself in front of other people.
Furious reader. Reads about 70-100 books each year. Prefers reading non-fiction, speculative science fiction, classics, and mysteries.
He’s definitely a night owl, as it’s when he gets his work done. In the mornings he has a hard time waking up and needs 1-2 hours of peace and quiet to prepare himself for the day.
In school, Tsukishima excels at most subjects (because he works hard), but he’s especially passionate about literature and English. I envision him working as a translator or an editor when he’s older (just something in the publishing industry).
The kind of music that Tsukishima listens to ranges. He mainly loves alternative, but he’s also into the weird, experimental stuff too.
He’s more of a casual drinker than Kuroo. He enjoys wine, sake, and certain IPAs. He also knows his limits well and will stop before getting too tipsy. Very rarely will he allow himself to get drunk.
general/sfw relationship HCs (living together edition)
Whenever Tsukishima sings in the shower, Kuroo will stop by the bathroom door to record videos. The first time he did, it was meant to be a joke, but eventually it became a habit. As it turns out, Tsukishima is a great singer.
Because of their differing sleep schedules, many nights encompass Kuroo bothering Tsukishima, not-so-subtly hinting for him to come to bed. Tsukishima will often resist and insist that he needs to finish work. Kuroo is stubborn, however. On more than one occasion he has put his foot down and manually shut Tsuki’s laptop so that he has to come cuddle.
Speaking of cuddling, you would think that Kuroo is the big spoon, but he actually likes to sleep on his stomach. That, combined with the fact that Kuroo moves around a lot, makes cuddling difficult. Sometimes Tsukishima will sleep on his back with Kuroo draped over him like a weighted blanket. Mostly, however, Kuroo will sleep on his stomach, head stuffed between the pillows, with Tsukishima folded beside him, holding on to his shirt.
Kuroo said ‘I love you’ first. Tsukishima then proceeded to freak him out by responding with ‘I’ll get back to you on that’. After two weeks of radio silence, he finally responded with an out-of-context ‘same’. Kuroo never forgave him for that.
On the rare occasions where Tsuki gets drunk, Kuroo takes full advantage of his vulnerability and coaxes embarrassing declarations of love from his inebriated boyfriend (filming them, of course). Lots of “tell me how much you love me” and “who’s the best boyfriend in the world?” The poor defenseless Tsukishima will gush unabashedly, only to wake up the next morning with a massive hangover, tormented by Kuroo as he plays the videos on repeat with full volume.
“Look at how cute you were, Tsuki!”
“Delete that right away or I’ll punch you.”
Kuroo doesn’t know that much about music (in comparison to Tsukishima) so he tends to stick with what’s popular/on the radio. The only time he branches out is when Tsukishima makes a curated playlist for him. Even if he doesn’t love all the songs, he’ll listen through the entire playlist on repeat, just happy to have a gift from his boyfriend.
Despite his confidence and posturing, Kuroo was honestly not that experienced when it came to relationships, dating, or sex before Tsuki. They were both each other’s first time, first love, and cannot imagine dating anyone else.
nfsw HCs
To no one’s surprise, Kuroo is the more kinky one of the pair. There’s a lot of stuff that Kuroo wants to do with Tsuki. Actually getting him to agree to the ideas, however, it another matter entirely.
The kinks that Tsukishima will indulge include: light bondage (blindfolds, hand cuffs), sex toys, mild dom/sub play, hair pulling, shower sex, spanking, and filming.
Kinks that Tsukishima has refused include: public sex, choking, ball gags, and more elaborate role play scenarios.
Tsukishima moans very softly during sex, if at all. Kuroo, on the other hand, can’t seem to shut up. He loves to narrate how Tsukishima looks, tease him, and ask pointed questions (”How does it feel?”, “What do you want me to do?”, etc;). At first, Tsukishima hated this part of him, but it’s gradually grown on him.
Tsukishima and Kuroo are equally clever, confident and domineering people. Therefore, their power dynamic in bed is rather fluid.
Generally, Kuroo likes to be in control and have Tsukishima at his mercy, especially when the latter is acting prideful and condescending. At the same time, Tsukishima is not the type to be submissive to anyone. Sometimes Tsuki will surprise Kuroo by suddenly giving orders, just to spice things up ;)
In terms of praise and degradation, Kuroo enjoys the latter. There’s a reason he fell for Tsukishima, after all. He low-key likes to be called names during sex. Nothing too harsh, of course. He just really enjoys indulging that bitchy, rude side of his boyfriend while simultaneously making a mess of him.
For Tsukishima, the opposite is true. Though he would never admit it to anyone, Tsuki loves to be worshipped by Kuroo. In fact, the quickest way to get him to melt is to be showered with sincere compliments and praise, especially when he’s getting close - nothing will push him over the edge more than being told he’s doing such a good job.
Put frankly, Tsukishima and Kuroo just have a lot of chemistry in bed. The sex is always good and even when their relationship inevitably mellows out from the honeymoon period, they are able to maintain that electric spark that first endeared them to each other.
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Just randomly reviewing scenes from the movies no one remembers now. This week: Avatar (2009).
It’s not like everyone forgot James Cameron’s Avatar. Since we’re still getting some footage from behind the scenes of the sequel and news about the cast, at least someone takes pains to remind themselves of this cinematic experience from the year of 2009. It’s already been 84 (just kidding, 11) years and I’m still looking forward to at least watching the teaser (fun fact: I was 11 when Avatar came out, I’m 22 now). I even bought the Darkhorse comic book on Tsu’Tey’s backstory to, you know, investigate one of my favorite characters a little bit better (spoiler: the backstory wasn’t very much eventful but I noticed a nice detail there which I may talk about briefly a bit later).
Throughout the years Avatar has received a lot of backlash and more or less justified criticism, mainly for the plot and its problematic packaging. I believe, it depends on the perspective one watches a movie from. Of course, I wouldn’t call it an absolute gem of exciting storytelling, even though I truly enjoy it, as in majority its twists are undeniably predictable. However, I always disagreed with people saying relations in Avatar aren’t deep at all. Well, romance between Jake and Neytiri, which, let’s be honest, except for the scene of telling the truth, went too smoothly, and this is why I strongly believe clash of interests is inevitable in sequels. Their interaction remained the key one for the whole movie, and nothing is bad about that, people enjoy a nice lovestory, so do I. But 11 years after I’d like to focus on the disturbing conflict everyone prefers to ignore for some reason when recalling Avatar. For me it’s always been Jake versus Colonel Quaritch.
You guys may have already guessed which scenes I wanna talk about. Those really important ones that I consider climactic to the pace of narration. And what is more about them, they give us crucial details in character development and actors’ play to think through. The main message: Quaritch knew it was coming.
Let me firstly touch upon the scene of short conversation between Jake and Quaritch prior to Sully presumably leaving Pandora. While Jake is awating Quaritch in a large empty hall, he hardly seems to be calm about the talk, every nerve in his body is trembling, but why?
The way Jake’s drumming his fingers on the table makes me wonder if he’s okay.
Then Colonel enters the hall, grabs a chair and reminds that it had been more than two weeks since he got the latest report on how the misson was going. He knows, Sully is questioning reality, and no, he’s not ‘doubting his resolve’. He knows, the right moment to ‘terminate the mission’ is missed. He knows, he lost Jake. He knows, he’s talking to the deserter. Yet Quaritch speaks indifferent. He praises Jake’s effort and rewards him for that. With real legs he promised to him when they first talked. Quaritch hoped they’d trigger the realization in Jake. Which doesn’t happen. How sad he looks when Jake openly refuses to accept the reward.
In just one sequence Stephen’s face demonstrates the shift of all four feelings Quaritch goes through: dissatisfaction, melancholy, shame, disgust.
Quaritch sensed the moment when Jake expressed superiority to the mankind. Jake grasped that Quaritch knew everything, he played with fire, and that’s why he felt anxiety. And it lasted all the way until Quaritch stepped back for leaving the hall. But did Colonel really surrender? I doubt that.
The tension between them both feels electric, so it’s explainable why Jake’s transient smile is so awkward. Sam then heavily staring straight at Colonel's back suggests that up until now Jake regarded Quaritch as his enemy. The enemy he knew he would not be able to defeat.
I remember when watching this scene, I couldn’t get myself the answer to one question. The question was: which report did Quaritch refer to? ‘That report from two weeks ago’, but such information wasn’t satisfactory for me. To be honest, this small discovery became the actual reason why I decided to type this study. Let’s assume that this particular report which Quaritch mentioned was the videolog where Jake confessed that Omaticaya wouldn’t leave the Hometree. Here’s why.
The general audience is used to perceiving Quaritch as a cruel short-tempered military man who just waits for the starting pistol’s shot to destroy everything in sight. Again, nothing is wrong about this, the fact that his character was simply meant to be a generic personification of such type doesn’t leave us with any alternative impression of him. Let’s say, if he was given the order to ignite the operation of the Hometree’s destruction to screw the tribe out of the site, he would absolutely go for it (and so he does). He’s a man of his word after all. Let’s also say, if he was pissed off by Jake’s betrayal, he would transport himself to the mountain site in a blink of an eye, turn off the link and put Jake in jail right after the talk in the hall. Instead, Quaritch decided to wait and give Jake the last chance. Jake preffered unearthly wings to those more tangible, so Quaritch chose not to cut them so abruptly.
We’re moving to the next scene, taking place right before a toned down fight between Tsu’Tey and Jake (I’m saying so, because it’s actually one of the deleted scenes that got edited out of the final cut, and believe me, the pressure between two rivals there is way too intense). Quaritch is watching the record of Jake destroying bulldozer’s lenses with a stone. After that Jake’s face is zoomed and we watch Selfridge get frustrated, Quaritch looks pretty annoyed as well but doesn’t seem to be much surprised. What he’s feeling, is bitter disappointment in himself and knowing that he totally failed to persuade Jake to change his mind.
Just observe Stephen Lang’s performance here. He absolutely nails cold-eyed look, the fire burning slow inside of him is so palpable, and guess what, in a flash he flies off the handle.
Now, shall we check the ultimate scene, preceding the destruction of the Hometree. Though Grace versus Parker juxtaposition is central to this scene, the last time Quaritch confronting Jake face to face in his human body is essential to consider for making things clear.
When it comes to revealing to Selfridge the vainness of further negotiations with Omaticaya, isn’t it just interesting how fast Quaritch manages to find the correct videolog? It literally takes him not more than a couple of swipes to produce the proof. Here is why: he’s already watched the record and is completely aware of the Jake’s values having deteriorated.
You can tell, Jake knew he was under control, but he would rather like to ingnore this fact. His pathetic glance at Quaritch, who’s almost impending above his head, causes to think Jake would guess that Colonel could have watched this videolog. Rather, it was a mutual secret between the two of them until a turning point. But the moment of truth came, and Jake didn’t change his mind. Quaritch made sure of that and finally it was his time to triumph.
So how was it even possible to assume Quaritch may have watched the videolog I’ve been talking about for so long? Well, my explanation may be too easy to believe, but still: we can tell by Jake’s appearance and the date of the record that it is the vlog we need.
This telltale videolog was recorded 16 minutes after the another one, when Jake says that he’s uncertain, who he is anymore (LST abbreviation stands for Local Standard Time). Jake might have suddenly felt depressed and hopeless and got back to the camera while being too emotionally instable, and so must have forgotten to delete the final record.
I have one more note for you. If you check the videolog library Quaritch is swiping through, you’ll see that the latest important record, which he actually needs, is made in the interior of the mountain site block and dates back to August, 13. Other recent vlogs’ covers look nothing like Site 26 sequence. Jake may not have done any of these records at the mountain site. I still wonder though where those three or four ensuing videologs were recorded, the location seems to be red lighted, which means it isn’t blue lighting at Site 26. I may even assume he recorded some pieces at Hell’s Gate. Why would I think so? Probably because in those two scenes (dialog with Quaritch and confession at Parker’s office) Jake looks ten times better than before, he gained some weight at least and doesn’t resemble a living sceleton.
Selfridge gave Jake an hour to relocate the tribe, while gunships led by Colonel’s Dragon were already on full alert. Quaritch had no doubt that Jake’s peacekeeping mission would fail. He knew it from the beginning. Hence he sounds so sarcastic seeing Sully’s avatar tied.
Now Quaritch sipping his villain’s morning coffee tasting like fresh genocide doesn’t feel so cringy: he’s celebrating his victory over Jake (still I should agree with critisism on this point, it really is a stupid cliche and wasn’t intended to carry a deep meaning).
Now I should admit, it’s been a long journey to run this investigation and bring it to light by finally posting it. It took me around a day to collect my thoughts and express them by means of more or less readable English. Just would like to make a little side note: English is not my native, so I promise I did my best! Thanks to James Cameron for making a movie, which woke me up in the middle of the night to start reflecting, and to all the fans out there who still exist and remember this movie and so can read this essay. @avatarmovies I found your blog not so long ago and you guys say you enjoy headcanons (and movie reviews probably?..), so it would be nice if you reblogged this but I’m not insisting!!
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