#but i feel this describes his character well

[pixiiipie]

Hi there, me again. 😅 so I’ve recently become obsessed with Sampo from HSR and I don’t really see a whole lot of writings for him. So, I figured I’d request it. It can be subby or just platonic, I genuinely don’t mind.

to betray my customers, i charge extra~

includes || sub!sampo | dom!reader | gn!reader | reader described as having a cock but could be seen as a strap | reader is a little mean but the ending is sweet | sampo is called a slut and whore | reader is called master | sampo has a crush on reader (u probs do look at him <3) not proofread!!

hello you :) i’m so so glad you’ve finally discovered sampo he was one of my first characters when but i stopped playing after i got kafka. so, i’m hoping my quick refresh of content will help me write this. obviously, we gotta fuck this sweet boy <3

“if that is all you require of the esteemed sampo koski, then i shall be taking my leave.” sampo said in his usual manner and flair, even going so far as to kiss your knuckle with a wink. he’d just finished carrying out some jobs for you and was only sticking around to collect the remainder of his payment. half now and half when the job was finished of course.

“until next time, tah-rah~!” with a bow, sampo turned to leave before your voice cut through his theatrics.

“wait.” you called, plain and simple but halting him immediately. the relationship you and sampo had was… complicated to say the least. you were well acquainted to the point where he’d complete tasks you’d assign him to for a much cheaper price than he’d charge others and even not charge you at all for smaller, easier things (maybe he’d try his charm and ask for a kiss instead- which you’d always indulge him in). truthfully, he was absolutely infatuated with you. sampo would do anything for you even if you refused payment.

“my dear sampo,” you began. your voice, although seemingly sweet, was laced with poison. sampo couldn’t help but take an unnatural deep breath trying not to show he was nervous and remain cocky. “i heard a little something from someone that piqued my interest. word travels fast as you must know.” you closed the gap between the two of you where you could just about feel his breath on you.

“ah that’s probably just some gossip to pass the time. you know how bored and lifeless people get. even i’ve spread a few rumours to liven things up and i’m preeetty sure they’re still going strong. meaningless chatter my darling y/n, meaningless chatter.” sampo mused trying to avoid whatever you’ve said coming into light and potentially screwing him over.

“a little birdie told me, that you encourage betrayal of your customers as long as they pay extra.” you say mindlessly playing with a longer strand of his hair.

“well- now now i wouldn’t say i encourage it per say and that doesn’t go for everyone i do business with. for instance! sampo koski would never do anything that goes against you that’s just plain wrong and against my moral code.” sampo explains although it comes out a little faster than he’d liked. you wondered just how many close calls he’s had if he’s this bad at excuses.

“you’re a bad liar sampo.” you whisper in his ear taking note on how his breath hitches and he presses his lips together. “and, so is your body. what’s this?” you adjust your knee so it’s pressed lightly over his growing bulge which, in turn, made sampo gasp sharply and immediately cover his mouth. “just.. just very happy to see my favourite customer.” sampo tries to play it off with a wink but to no avail. his voice was failing him pitifully.

“hmm how about an exchange for this new information? you keep me protected in exchange for me helping you out.” it was almost as if you had swapped roles. with one hand, you held his face and kept him looking at you while the other snuck through a gap in his clothes to hold his waist. sampo was desperately trying to hold onto his snark but it was hard when he wanted needed this moment that he’d been so patiently waiting for. “exchange gladly accepted.” he said with a smile taking your waist and pressing you against him more.

———

“oh sampo i can tell why everyone keeps coming back to you.” you say adjusting his legs so you can reach even deeper into him. sampo was seeing stars, blown away by the fact his fantasies were finally coming true. he’ll easily keep coming back to you for more than jobs now he’s had a taste of your cock. a taste wasn’t enough to describe this it was more a five course meal he’d never become full from.

“mgghh-! f-fuck mmMhmhmhm! no one can qui-quite get enoughhh offf- aH-! sah-sampo mmM-!” sampo moaned trying to fulfil your request and put on a show for you. he was stripped of all his clothes apart from his top, which lay undone but still over his arms underneath him, and lay on his back taking your cock like such a good boy. as instructed by you, his was to keep his hands pressed under his back.

“i wonder… do you do this with many people mr cold feet?” you ask slowing your movements to allow him to think. sampo only nodded with an attempt at a smirk between whimpers. this was only half true. sure, he’d fucked around a little for information but it was never like this. a quick handjob under a table, head in an ally but he was never on the receiving end.

“i thought as much. you’re never fully satisfied are you, whore?” your last word stung but sampo was quickly learning that he had a thing for pain. “you do remember why i’m doing this don’t you sampo?”the switch to his name caught him off guard and he’s not sure if he was turned on or disappointed by this. again, he nodded. “use your words.” you swore he whimpered at your change of tone and it was difficult for him not to cum from this. “s-so i’ll hnnngg-! i’ll protect y-ya!” sampo squirmed as your hands carelessly roamed his body and grazed over his nipples.

“mm almost,” you began as you leaned towards him, talking into his ear. “it’s easy for you to say you’ll protect me but how can i know you definitely will? if i have this dirt on you, it’ll make it that bit harder for you to betray me.” you punctuate your words with harsh thrusts that probably made it harder for him to understand and take in what you were saying. “nn-no ne-aH-! never hnnggh betray y-you! neva-ah! m-masterrrr” sampo almost cries, wishing he never made that stupid slogan for some extra cash.

“but look at how well you take me. makes me think that even if i did expose you, you’d like it. everyone would know what a slut mr cold feet is and they’d all want a turn with you and fuck you like the whore you’re clearly proving to be.” to compliment your words, you lazily dragged your hand up and down his aching cock causing him to buck into your hand and almost curl in on himself.

sampo doesn’t want you to tell everyone but only because he only wants you to fuck him like this! he wants to prove that he can be a good boy and allow the chance that maybe you’ll do this to him again. you’re the only master he wants and he would never betray his master. it was all too much. sampo was almost at his limit.

“plu-pluheeseee g’nnah c-cumm hnnggg!” desperate to reach his high, sampo began subconsciously grinding onto you and trying to match your thrusts to force you deeper inside. watching him, you grab his hips and help him working faster and deeper inside. “such a polite boy. everyone likes a good boy don’t they?” you ask wondering how foggy his head has gotten.

“mmgnmmm! g-good boy ‘mma g’boyyy.” he almost shouts as if he was trying to prove your previous points wrong. “you’ve satisfied your customer greatly sampo. you can cum.” you say pressing a kiss to his cheek where a tear was running down.

“thhh-thaahnk you!” he slurred over and over as he came over his stomach with a high pitched whine. you gently helped him ride out his orgasm and watched how his hands dug into the blankets underneath him. he really was good. they never moved from where you instructed him to keep them. before you pulled out though, you had to do one more thing. you took your phone and held it above him, making sure to capture the full image of sampo lay blissed out, covered in his own cum and with a cock buried deep in his ass.

“smileee.” you say almost mimicking his usual sing song voice. to your surprise, he followed your instructions and even stuck out his tongue to sell the image more. leaning down to kiss his chewed up lips, you tell him that you were only kidding as you slowly and carefully pull out. it was only to make him believe that you really had dirt on him and it wasn’t another rumour. it would make him think twice before doing anything knowing that you had a picture of him in this state (and probably download so he could never truly delete every trace of it).

“you’d let me?” you ask moving some stray strands of hair out of his eyes and letting your hand rest on his cheek. sampo only nodded and kissed your palm. “i want you to trust that i would never betray you.” his voice (although a little hoarse) was serious and a stark contrast to his usual tone. “if havin’ that will give you peace of mind, that’s okay.” he smiles up at you with genuine earnest. “you’ll never have the chance to use it anywhos.”

“you’re m’favourite customer. i only want you. i love you.”

“pleasure doing business with you sampo, my good boy”

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3

[lcvemiyuki]

“crossed lines” | tsukishima, hq

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི - "the walls" by chase atlantic

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: he thought he knew the answers to everything and made sure to map out his every action. yet, none could rationalize the way you made his insides churn with a burn of conflicting emotions

warnings: suggestive (no smut!), enemies-to-lovers (they dislike each other), college student!tsukishima, swearing, fem!reader, lots of tension, pov switching

character(s): tsukishima

word count: 1518

a/n: heavily inspired by that riff part in 'the walls' by chase atlantic (had to listen to it a million times to perfectly describe it as in my head lolol)...this is my 1st time writing something so intense AHHH, i hope you like it!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Tsukki, wait!” Yamaguchi’s voice echoed into the rain-soaked street, the downpour muffling his words to a mere whisper against the relentless pattering of raindrops on the cobblestone pavement. 

“She’s such an idiot,” Tsukishima muttered under his breath, his annoyance palpable in the tightness of his voice as he followed your retreating figure, a lone silhouette against the cold, relentless rain. Yamaguchi had just relayed the latest news about your on-again, off-again boyfriend. The twitch in Tsukishima’s right eye, a clear sign of his irritation, was hidden by his black-rimmed glasses, but the tension in his body language was unmistakable.

He couldn’t believe you were storming out from the dorms into the darkness yet again. 

An invisible force pulled him in your direction, but instead of a gentle tug, it was more like a high-speed collision. The more Yamaguchi detailed the fiasco with your so-called “Mr. Perfect,” the tighter Tsukishima’s fists clenched until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. When he finally released his grip, deep red nail marks were etched into his pale skin. He didn’t hear his friend’s confused questions; all he could hear was the ringing in his ears and the pounding of his own heart in his chest, like a desperate drum seeking his attention as he followed after you.

When he finally caught up to you, he reached out, his hand hovering just above your shoulder before he firmly turned you around to face him. 

Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, a testament to the pain you were feeling, and your hand instantly rejected his touch, aggressively shrugging off his hold. 

“Are you seriously thinking about taking him back?” His voice cut through the thundering rain, raised just enough to be heard over the downpour. You scoffed in disbelief, tightening your grip on the baby pink umbrella, trying to recompose yourself.

“And what’s it to you, huh?” you snapped, your voice wavering with emotion as you lifted your chin defiantly. 

If this day could get any worse, it had to involve seeing his annoyingly, fault-finding face. He always acted with judgment and you knew he looked down on your every mistake. And what made it worse was that his opinion always spoke some cut-throat truth you couldn't swallow.

Now here he was, sticking his nose into your business and voicing his input.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” His eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with disdain. “It’s pitiful.”

His t-shirt clung to his body, soaked through, but the heat of the moment kept the shivers at bay. You were infuriating, and he knew the feeling was mutual.

So why did he feel compelled to chase after you?

He should be sneering at your stupidity. Yet, here you were, crowding his thoughts, his vision, everything.

His insults only fueled your anger, the words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. Yet, beneath the rage, a sliver of fear crept in—fear that he might be right. It was the unspoken truth that gnawed at you, the one everyone else probably thought but never dared to voice. But Tsukishima, with his sharp tongue and piercing gaze, had no such reservations.

If Tsukishima excelled at one thing, it was his uncanny ability to read you like an open book. He knew you too well, his eyes always catching the smallest, most insignificant details that he would mercilessly call out. Every comment was a well-aimed dart, hitting precisely where you were most vulnerable. It was infuriating how effortlessly he could unravel you, laying bare your insecurities with a few well-chosen words.

You clenched your fists, feeling the sting of his remarks, the heat of your anger battling the cold edge of your fingertips. His words echoed in your mind, a relentless reminder of the truths you tried to bury. Despite the fury blazing in your chest, you couldn't shake the nagging thought that he saw you more clearly than anyone else ever could. And that realization, more than his biting words, left a pit in your stomach.

The truth made you want to scream out into the looming darkness.

“Pitiful?” you questioned as your feet stepped down the curb, “if I’m so pathetic, then leave me be. Go project your judgment onto someone else other than rubbing it in my fucking face” you spat out harshly.

You didn’t want to deal with him tonight, not when you felt the weight of his words slowly sinking into your pores. You turned around to flee, but Tsukishima’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait.”

You paused but didn’t turn back. His voice, though steady, carried an intensity that made your heart race—a quiet before the storm that left you both anxious and drawn in.

“Why do you care so much?” you mustered, your voice cracking slightly as you tried to stand your ground. When there was no response to be heard, you hesitantly turned around once more.

And the sight was maddening.

His blonde locks, usually slightly short, now stretched longer down his forehead, the rain streaming down his face. Although his whole body was soaked from head to toe, his expression remained unchanged. He looked on toward you, eyes darkened and burning holes in your body. His head tilted slightly as if he was trying to piece together what you were thinking—or maybe, reanalyzing his own.

“Tsukishima, why do you care?” you demanded once more.

Maybe it was the curiosity that urged you to repeat yourself; maybe it was the way you’ve never seen the six-foot-two man in front of you look so—disheveled.

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he took a step closer, almost unconsciously, as if he didn’t even know what he was doing. Those golden-brown eyes burned with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your heart raced as your breath escaped in a long, slow huff through your nose. Your glazed eyes locked onto his, watching tiny droplets slide down his glasses and cling to his long lashes. The heat between you was palpable; the rain felt like gasoline, fueling the raging fire.

“Why do I care?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his gaze fixated on your lips. It was as if he was echoing your words, distracted by the movement of your mouth as his eyebrows furrowed.

‘Because I burn with emotions that you sear into my whole being’

“Because you’re aggravating,” he seethed through gritted teeth, his frustration evident in the sharp edge of his voice. Yet, despite his irritation, his gaze remained fixated on your lips. 

You felt the intensity of his gaze, a magnetic pull that seemed to draw every fiber of your being towards him. 

But just as quickly as the moment had built, Tsukishima pulled back, his expression hardening once more. His jaw clenched tensely, taking a step back while his gaze shifted, trying to focus on something else. The uncertainty still lingered in the narrow space between you. 

“Just forget it,” he spoke under his breath. Turning on his heel, he walked away, leaving you standing there, frozen and stranded for answers. 

You watched him retreat, the distance between you growing with each step. Your heart pounded in your chest, a tumult of emotions circulating inside you. You thought he was leaving for good as the breath you exhaled was shaky.

But then, he stopped—standing there for several aching seconds. 

His gaze shifted among the surrounding objects as if building a barrier to contain his internal uncertainty. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, the weight of his conflicting emotions settling heavily in his stomach. Each thought rushed through his mind like a relentless torrent, creating a storm of confusion and frustration.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly why he felt this way, why he cared so much. 

The analytical part of his mind tried to dissect every possible reason, but the emotions swirling inside him defied logical explanation. 

He shouldn't have followed you out here.

He wanted to escape the turmoil, to drown out the noise in his mind.

 “—Fuck it,” he muttered. 

And something inside him snapped. 

He turned back and closed the distance between you in a few long strides; his cold hands cupping your face.

Before you could muster a word, his lips came crashing onto yours.

The kiss was fierce, filled with all the pent-up frustration and anger. His lips moved against yours with a desperate urgency, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. You responded in kind, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions. Your hands instinctively found their way to his soaked shirt. You gripped the fabric tightly as if trying to anchor yourself in the storm that was Tsukishima.

At that moment, the precarious line of his loathing finally broke. 

The intense curiosity that had simmered beneath his animosity surged to the forefront. He was engrossed by a burning desire to understand the root of it all. 

Why did you consume him entirely? 

The need for answers outweighed his self-imposed boundaries, and he crossed the line he had sworn never to.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[deathbxnny]

HI BXNNY MY LOVEEEE

hehe I'm here another time with a platonic pairing~

Once again with a fem, little sister child! reader but this time it's not a specific scenario like my recent request for Aventurine, just headcanons with Argenti (never seen you write for my man? Idk if you write him, feel free to ignore him or add another character if you don't ♡) Jing Yuan and Dr. Ratio?

TAKE CARE OF URSELFF💕💐🌻

Hey there, dear moot!! This is such a cute idea, and I'd LOVE to write for Argenti, so thank you for including him!!<3

Content: Reader is a child, fluff, unserious, big brother characters, platonic relationships, slight angst, sfw

Reader is afab here!!

((Not proofread))

》ARGENTI

Argenti saw you as a blessing from Idrila, something he was very vocal about to everyone and especially his little sister. He spoils you greatly and has an inability to say no to you. However, he often still wonders if it is right to bring you along on his journey through the cosmos in search of his lost Aeon. He knows it's dangerous and most likely could cause his death one day... but he still can't find himself leaving you behind.

Since he is such a strict believer of Idrila, you ofcourse begin to mimic his devotion in your behavior, something that means way more than words could describe to him. His heart swells with pride when he sees you recite the prayers and praises or dress the way he does. It makes his worries and doubts melt away.

With that said, you truly have him wrapped around your little fingers, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

》DR. VERITAS RATIO

His expectations for you were high and perhaps even stressful at times. He wanted you to be the best, to exceed him in ways not even he ever could. Ratio believed that what he was doing was for your own good, for your own perfect future... which, however, unfortunately meant that he often times forgot that you were still simply a child. This, in turn, just means that he'll self-reflect often and try and give you more breaks in-between classes and studying whenever you need them.

With that said, he is a busy professor and scholar, which often leads him to not be home as much as you want him to. He tries his best to find some time to spend with you however when he is home, although that's usually spent either reading books or listening to long lectures from him. He thinks that that is great bonding time for the both of you.

Ratio may not be very vocal or open about his love for his little sister, but it's obvious with how much he cares for your well-being and future, even when he can come off as mean or harsh at times. He wants you to have a good life without him one day and will make sure you're prepared for it.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan adores you greatly and doesn't shy away from spoiling you with anything you want. He often gets accused of perhaps spoiling you even a little too much from Fu Xuan, but he simply waves it off with no concern. You deserve way more than he can offer you, after all.

With that said, Yanqing is indeed your designated babysitter, much to the boy's annoyance at times. On one hand, it's because Jing Yuan trusts him way more than anyone else with you... and on the other, he knows that the blonde will learn to behave himself and slow down better with you around. Or so he thinks, at first. Once you're old enough to become best of friends with him, the days of your mischievous pranks on the general start, mainly out of spite.

Jing Yuan finds it cute and amusing until he's dowsed in water as you both run away laughing hysterically. Maybe Fu Xuan was right...

Alrightttt... I hope this was okay, dear moot!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[waitmyturtles]

Have you read any of the Thai academic papers regarding MAME's work? sometimes I feel like fandom at large has a very strong western bias towards her that borders on xenophobia in review of anything attached to her unless it's more low stakes gmmtv style stuff like wedding plan was which suits western sensibilities more.

Hi, Non! This is interesting framing you've put forth here. I want to note that I'm close with some folks, particularly @bengiyo and @lurkingshan, whose critical tastes I trust, and I can assure myself that they would not call Wedding Plan low stakes. During my Old GMMTV Challenge project, I promised myself that I would not watch another MAME show after Love By Chance and TharnType, and I've taken Ben's and Shan's urging to chuck that aside to add Wedding Plan to my OGMMTVC syllabus, which I'll get to after my summer travels. Let me take a second to sort this all out in a more sensible and chronological answer to touch upon what I know about MAME now that I'm much more read into Thai BLs and the history of the genre.

Regarding academia and MAME, I have not read Thai source material on her start and her legacy in Thai Y novel writing and Thai BL/Series Y television productions. What I am in the midst of reading at the moment is Dr. Thomas Baudinette's Boys Love Media in Thailand (Baudinette hailing from Australia), and he does get in depth with MAME's beginnings, which for me was the first primary source material that I have encountered about her background. To summarize quickly, MAME (along with individuals like INDRYTIMES/Kwang Latika, who wrote the original novel for Love Sick, and others) was part of the first crop of young middle-to-upper-class female college students who became enamored with Japanese BL/yaoi manga, as well as (in many cases) K-pop idols, and began writing fan fiction about and/or in the styles of these interests, which led to the development of the unique Thai Y novel genre.

It does seem to me, at least on Tumblr, that a good chunk of Western fandom here has written off MAME. I'm Asian-American, and I come to my hesitation about MAME from a particularly Asian perspective, so I really can't speak for the non-Asian fans about what they're rejecting. Let me at least explain what I'm rejecting, and how I've engaged in dialogue about it with critical friends here.

LBC did not have as much of what I will attempt to describe as I saw in TharnType, something that I might now call collectivist homophobia or collectivist bias. But LBC had a smattering of it, something that I smelled early on in that series. In both series, MAME seemed to approach her characters, to me, with a distanced hand of judgement that, to me, recalled the kinds of biases that my Asian parents tried to implant in me in my childhood, that I rejected throughout my young years. Queer material is so very often not good to its queer characters, and it seemed to me through LBC and TT that MAME intended to gild that lily to channel a populist homophobia that she seemed to know would resonate with a broader fanbase -- which it did, in part, because TharnType in particular was the first Thai BL with heat in every episode.

(Two things to note about my review of TharnType that I penned last year. First item to note is that Boys Love Media in Thailand had not been published yet, and I had not read primary source material about MAME. I was enraged at the time about fan theories that MAME had been a victim of sexual assault, and had therefore written her queer characters with the biased vitriol that I perceived coming from her because of that theorized past. I still think these theories are equivocating and problematic. Second item is that I heavily recommend reading the reblogs of my TT review, tags and posts and all, to see literally the spectrum of commentary of the MAME fandom/anti-fandom across Tumblr. Writing that post and reading those reblogs was a hell of a great experience.)

Just to summarize this, then -- I choose to not engage with MAME because I see under- and overhanded bias in the work that I've watched, with my Asian eyes; and I just might assume that many Westerners see the same thing. But I don't really know, because I haven't talked to that many Western fans about the depth of this.

So what does this mean for this moment in time? I understand MAME's Love Sea is airing, which I'm not watching, and I missed the boat on Love In the Air -- so I think I'm missing some critical and/or catty chatter about those two shows from the fandom because I don't have context.

But I do know there are folks out there that either write MAME off wholly, likely for similar reasons that I've listed above, and/or hate-watch her shows and post about it. To each their own.

I would not have considered Wedding Plan if Ben and Shan weren't screaming about it. I'm happy to have fewer shows on my plate, I got no time. However.

Nothing in this world exists in a static vacuum. If MAME is experimenting with tone, approach, style, and even taste regarding her shows, then more power to her. @bengiyo's post linked above about Wedding Plan is important for me to see, because I see that he's noting that parts of the fandom may have actually demonstrated real homophobic dialogue about MAME's fictional characters, which, to me, I'm like, what? Really? You got time for that? But also:

If MAME, back in 2019 with TharnType, picked up that her Thai and global fanbases were more inclined to check in with collectivist homophobia, as I'm calling it.... and now, in 2023-2024, has noted that her fanbases might be far more inclined to support real queer equality and overtones in shows, and is including those themes in her work -- can we not welcome that change in? That's why I'll give Wedding Plan a shot.

Let's be sassy and ironic for a second. Could she be making this change for da money and the fame? Sure. But -- capitalism unfortunately rules this world. Car commercials in the States have interracial queer couples parenting children nowadays. If equality talks to money, then content makers will take note. I think I'd be a hypocrite to say that MAME shouldn't make her dollar, all while she's experimenting with more equitable stances.

Last note. There's been quite the dialogue simmering these past few weeks about GMMTV's We Are, and whether or not GMMTV is stepping away from a past where many (not all, but many) of its shows explored queerness in depth. He's Coming To Me, Bad Buddy, Dark Blue Kiss (yes... the first three shows I listed were Aof Noppharnach shows, fuck), Theory of Love, 3 Will Be Free. The major GMMTV BL/GL shows that have aired recently that have made huge waves on social media -- Only Friends, 23.5, Last Twilight, and now My Love Mix-Up -- were/are helmed by branded (capitalism, hello!) pairs, and three out of four of them were flops, with MLMU already treading that territory in EPISODE TWO, for heaven's sake. (Y'all, read the reblogs on this post. Wow.) I finished a rewatch of The Eclipse weeks ago, and I'm dragging my feet on my review, because of what I think that show represents for what branded pairs end up doing to otherwise original content.

I want to posit a theory, that I'll work more on when my OGMMTVC is over, that we have living, real-time proof that the branded pair system is failing good content -- because these shows have to produce engagement snippets of these pairs, instead of more broadly penetrating artistic content. GMMTV's one-off shows with non-branded pairs, like Be My Favorite and Wandee Goodday, are FAR MORE INTERESTING content-wise, varied and inquisitive in their artistic takes on queerness. Even Cherry Magic, featuring the long-awaited return of TayNew, felt fresh, because we literally hadn't seen TayNew in FIVE YEARS. Tay actually KISSED ANOTHER DUDE, shocker!, in 3 Will Be Free. I want to go back to those days, where the pairs could act well outside of their range and their business partners, instead of being limited to the same tone and style that their pairings and their fandoms demand.

I say ALL OF THIS, because isn't it interesting that GMMTV seems to be reverting on a scale of inquisitiveness about queerness -- and MAME seems to be going in the opposite direction?

I would not have expected it. But I have found, lately, some of GMMTV's "takes" on "queerness," as in Only Friends, to be outright offensive. This corporation has become far more gunshy to let their branded pairs just be fictionally gay. If MAME wants to take on a healthier stance of equity, and to play around with more realistic depictions of what it means to be queer in Thailand, then go for it, girl. I will admittedly be watching Wedding Plan with my Asian side-eye and my smell tests for bias, but I look forward to being proven wrong about my suspicions. I want to be a responsible fan here, open to MAME's changes.

This ended up being a lot, but thank you for provoking these thoughts, Non.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 4: Shadows in the Moonlight - A Fateful Meeting at the Ball

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

„I won’t wear this. End of the discussion.”

“Are you out of your mind, sister? Prince Satoru sent this dress himself and ordered you to wear it!”

“I couldn’t care less about what Prince Satoru tells me to do.”

“Lady (y/n), please come to your senses. This is a beautiful gown and apart from that, it matches your skin tone and eyes perfectly. I am certain he didn’t choose this dress himself. Do the maid who was responsible for it a favour and wear it to the ball.”

Just to hear her voice sends shivers down your spine and calms down your pounding heart. Well, what did you expect when you found yourself reincarnated into a fantasy world with Jujutsu Kaisen characters playing the royal main roles? Definitely not Shoko Ieiri being your first maid, that is for sure.

“Fine”, you grumble.

“But I’ll only do it because of Shoko. Now get out of here, brother.”

Naoya sends a row of sickening glares your way before storming off and finally leaving you some room to breathe. This slowly but surely begins to feel like a never-ending nightmare. All you did was asking Gojo for an invitation to the ball along with a bouquet of flowers. But this?

You take out the jaw-dropping gorgeous gown that is covered in glitter, allow your hands to feel the softness of the fabric. There is no doubt in the fact that this was way more expensive than anything you have ever worn, so finely crafted that you didn’t even want to touch it when you first opened the box. But Shoko is right.

“How likely is it that the maid responsibly for choosing this dress will lose her head if I don’t wear it to the ball, Shoko?”

She eyes you and the dress up and down in silence while pouting her lips. To be honest, when you first saw her in that black and white maids dress, you almost fell out of the window. How is it even possible that she’s considered your maid in this world? Luckily for you, she at least kept her sense of humor.

“Very likely. To be exact, she might lose her head the same evening if Prince Satoru lives up to his reputation.”

“What a great way to describe my future fiancé. Would you help me put it on, then?”, you mutter.

Oh, how much you hate the thought of doing this man a favour, of putting something onto your body he has seen before. He doesn’t deserve to even look your way for how he talked to you, for how he treated you. Your impression from him in the manga definitely wasn’t wrong:

This man is nothing but a womanizer and collector of hearts.

“Didn’t you like him at least a little bit, Lady (y/n)? From what I have heard so far, it is said that he is a true gentleman and treats women with all due respect. Just not everyone else”, Shoko comments while tying the laces of your bodice.

You can’t help but huff in sheer anger and frustration. Gojo Satoru? A true gentleman? Is she really talking about the man who endangered you, who didn’t agree on marrying you? Just after you put him down in front of your whole family and threatened him with revealing his biggest secret…

Well, nobody’s perfect. But especially he isn’t.

“Let me tell you something, Shoko. This man is nothing but a philanderer, a pompous prince who thinks he owns the world.”

“But this pompous prince will be called your fiancé after tonight”, she reminds you violently.

You huff to yourself while balling your hands into tight fists and looking at yourself in the mirror. That new sensation of lavender eyes, the stinging fact that you are responsible for marrying that man you never really liked that much. But what other choice do you have? Even though you just came into this world, you aren’t dumb. Just one look into Naobito’s and Naoya’s cold eyes is enough to know they aren’t joking around. If Gojo doesn’t propose to you tonight, you will lose your life all over again. Running away? What a ridiculous thought. They’d find you where ever you go, hunt you down like the prey you are. Jujutsu Kaisen taught you that life isn’t that simple, that you cannot get away like that.

That new-gained life, the only one you might have left…

You straighten your shoulders and put a smile onto your lips so forced that your cheeks start aching. If calling yourself Prince Satoru’s fiancée is the price you have to pay for a second life, you will take it. But you’ll definitely won’t play his perfect little fiancée until the end of time. No, despite all the horrible things that could happen, despite the fact that you can consider yourself lucky for an opportunity like that, you still want to live the life you always imagined.

You will find a way out. But tonight, you have to play along.

-at the ball-

“If you don’t behave yourself-“

“Can you shut your mouth just once? It’s not like I’m a kid and didn’t listen to your nonsense the whole ride to the palace”, you interrupt your brother with a yawn.

“I think you don’t get it, sister.”

Naoya grabs your wrist so tightly that your bones feel like bursting any given minute, his cold glare piercing through you like a knife.

“If you mess this up, you will lose your head. And even though I’d love to witness that, we can use you as the wife of the prince better.”

His eyes tell you that he definitely isn’t lying, that every cruel word coming from his mouth is nothing but the truth. You swallow hard, yanking away your arm in order to escape his grasp. Fuck, this is absolutely serious. If you mess this up, if that jerk changes his opinion-

“Lady (y/n), what a pleasant surprise to see you made it on time.”

Oh. You turn around in a mix of relief and panic. It’s him.

“Sir Suguru”, you breathe out.

As fast as you’re able to walk in that pompous dress and those heels, you storm away from your brother in order to greet your new-found saviour.

“Where do you think you’re going, sister?”, Naoya hisses through gritted teeth.

“He’s a good friend of Prince Satoru, don’t you think it’s my responsibility to greet him? Now get away from me”, you bark back at him.

“What a pain in the ass”, you mumble to yourself, cheeks burning in nothing but sheer anger.

Now that you think of it, getting out of that toxic household is definitely more important than keeping your distance to Gojo. You need this evening to be perfect. Everything needs to go according to plan.

“I see you arrived with your brother”, Geto comments with an oh so charismatic smile.

“Oh, you noticed. I tried to leave him in the basement where he belongs, but he keeps finding his way back”, you blurt out before thinking twice.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror.

Just a few seconds ago, you reminded yourself to act normally, to do everything in order to make this plan work. And now…you’re insulting your family in front of Gojo’s best friend.

“I apologize, I shouldn’t have said that-“

“It’s not a secret to anyone that Sir Naoya is a truly special contemporary. What surprises me though is how a Lady like you was able to develop in such an environment.”

“Please don’t tell Prince Satoru.”

The begging tone in your voice catches Geto off guard. You, who wasn’t even afraid of a Prince while rejecting him. What is it that you fear so badly?

“I’m a man of words. Of course, this will stay with us if you wish so, Lady (y/n). Now, let’s go inside, shall we? I know for certain Prince Satoru is already awaiting you.”

“Don’t make me blush, Prince Satoru-“

“Prince Satoru, there is something important I haven’t told you yet! What do you think about talking in private for a minute?”

“Now now, Ladies. I am not allowed to leave the ball I am hosting only to have a little talk. And apart from that, a noble man like me can’t meet a gorgeous Lady without a chaperone by her side. Your reputation might get ruined and I cannot stand the sheer thought of that”, Satoru replies with his voice so sweet that you feel like throwing up.

Is this guy for real? You ball your hands into tight fists, eyes too focused on the way he stares that bunch of needy women up and down with his eyes so sparkly that they might take their clothes of any given time. Didn’t this guy tell you yesterday that he wants to marry you?

“May I say that you look absolutely lovely tonight, dearest Lady Mei?”

“You always know just what to say to make a lady blush. But I must say, you’re looking quite dashing yourself. Perhaps we should make it a habit to complement each other more often, Prince Satoru”, she purrs back at him.

Mei Mei, the so called “Lady” who shared her bed with her little brother and cares about nothing but herself as your competition? Suguru side-eyes you up and down while trying to position himself in front of the cheesy scene, but you have enough.

Nope, you can’t do this. There’s no way in hell you’ll talk or let alone dance with that womanizer. Is this the only choice you have in your life? Getting killed by your so-called family or spending the rest of your days standing next to a man who has his mind and probably his body on a new girl every week?

“Disgusting”, you hiss through gritted teeth, not even caring about the look Suguru gives you while speeding off.

What are you supposed to do? Running away and trying to hide your traces? Risking it all and rejecting Prince Gojo once again? All of those thoughts are nothing but bullshit.

Your family will find and kill you if you decide to run away. And Prince Gojo? Who know what that guy is capable of.

“Don’t mind my comment, but you don’t have to feel nervous. I am more than certain that Prince Satoru fell head over heels for you”, Suguru whispers into your ear, following you around with ease.

“Are you forced to tell that every woman he wants to have as his trophy?”, you bite back.

You definitely don’t have any nerve to think about Prince Satoru or the stinging fact that you’ve landed in that strange universe for another minute.

“Drinking. Drinking sounds good right now”, you mumble while storming towards a buffet filled with beverages and biscuits.

Cup after cup you cough down the sweet liqueur that leaves your head dizzy and mind forgetting all the shit you’ve been through for a brief second. You were alive, you died, you woke up again in this strange world and now you’re supposed to die again?  Dying or getting married to a womanizer, a man who’ll never give you the love you deserve.

“Lady (y/n), are you feeling unwell-“

“I need to get out of here. Please leave me alone for a second”, you mumble without even looking at Suguru.

You need a few minutes or rather hours for yourself. Without anyone around, without all the pressure crushing your shoulders. Your feet stumble around without a real aim, shoulders bumping into strangers over and over until your eyes finally spot an empty hallway opposite of you.

Fuck Prince Satoru and that whole new world you now live in. Right now, you need some time to get a hold on your life and all the stuff that happened those last 48 hours.

You dart forwards, almost sprint when the crowd gets sparser. You need to get away from that place, away from the stinging presence of your brother, your father and Gojo.

“I can’t marry him. But I can’t stay here either. I need to…AH!”

Sparks fly, you feel your head bump into something rock hard, your body falling straight to the cold ground. Out of instinct, you squint your eyes together and brace yourself for bumping straight onto the floor butt-first. Were you really dumb enough to run against a wall or a statue, maybe?

But you never land. Instead, you feel a pair of firm arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, slowly allowing your lids to flutter open.

Your heart stops.

Can it really be? No, that’s impossible. There’s no way in hell a guy like him would attend a ball like that-

“I think your lost, the ball is right behind you, young Lady”, he speaks out with low voice.

“Toji Fushiguro”, you mumble when your glossy eyes fixate on the scar that decorates the right side of his mouth way too familiar.

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren

@sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823

@livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom @byakuya61085

@arehzhera @ttysmfwna 

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C’mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[itsjustmylifeconfessions]

Whenever I doubt myself I remember that there are people with 0 brain cells that are writing the biggest show in the world.

Blood and cheese was terribly done. Absolutely awful writing, especially adding Alicent and Cole at the end, that was ridiculous. To make Daemon want Aemond instead of actually having him order the killing of a boy? I hate how scared they are to make team black bad people. They are all bad people, from both teams. Daemon ordered the murder of a child but these idiots don't want to make team black the bad guys, ever, so let's write him not ordering this and make it another misunderstanding, why not?

Ridiculous.

It's not just about b&c, but their refusal of making team black grey characters, from the start, is so stupid. They can't be villains, they are the heroes, good people suffering an injustice, and we can't have our heroes doing a terrible thing like this!

That is the mentality of a middle school writer working on a kid's play. If you can only write black and white characters you shouldn't be writing for asoiaf.

The interesting part of the story is that they are all doing bad things, that's why fans like the book so much, cause it's fucking interesting to see them all doing bad shit.

I'm not upset cause I'm team green, I just hate bad writing so much...

Yes I'm aware that Daemon smirked when the guy asked what to do if they can't find Aemond, probably telling them to get one of the kids instead (but not showing us this of course cause we can't have even more proof that this man is a piece of shit), but that is not the same as him actually ordering the murder of a little boy with his own words as the first choice.

They turned one of the most gruesome and horrible moments in the story into a 3 min point and run moment, with a laughable 'catching your mom having sex is weird right?' ending. This takes away all the pain we are supposed to be feeling in that moment. This takes so much from Helaena as well, what the book describes is so fucking sad and gives her character so much more depth.

I also wish they had given more for Phia to work with, she was incredible but that was a pivotal moment for her character and she deserved to be given more in that scene. And don't tell me they didn't do it like the book because it would be traumatic for the kids because yes it is possible to shoot that with and without the kids, you just have to be specific about the framing and shots you use, it's all about camera work.

Do I understand Helaena dissociation in that moment? Absolutely. Did I want to see a little boy getting his head cut off? Absolutely not, no one did, we are not psychopaths. But it does piss me off that they wrote such a pivotal scene in such a bad way, that was supposed to be red wedding levels of shock and pain, and the most shocking thing was Alicent on top of Criston (good for her tbh she deserves to have fun).

They have been terrible writers from the start, for both teams (Rhaenys in the coronation is pure comedy to me), but this to me is painful how bad it was. The only good thing about that scene is Phia's acting.

Anyway that's just how I feel about it. I have so many thoughts about this but I don't think I'll write more, so I'll just say this:

Don't give up on your dreams guys. Anyone can do it. Anyone.

[laporcupina]

Hi! I’m re-reading your SGA stories again and I really enjoy how you made Atlantis your own and populated it with so many characters who feel realized. May I ask, as someone who also writes but struggle with creating and writing OCs, how do you go about creating them and making them interesting? Is there a secret sauce?

First off: thank you! The flippant answer is that my OCs are born out of the lingering trauma of being a fanficcer in the 1990s when every OC, especially every female OC, was assumed to be a Mary Sue until proven otherwise. (Wanna know why some of my SGA stuff is still missing from ao3? Because I thought my OC-heavy stuff didn't belong on the platform. The trauma is real.) My character creation wears those scars.

The more useful answer is to (a) look around you at the people you know and (b) play to your writing strengths.

For (a) I don't mean fictionalize your friends and family, although you should absolutely borrow. Pretty much everyone you know has traits you have identified but don't necessarily think about first when thinking about them: they're funny or they're bossy or they hate vegetables or they are naturally athletic or they are so scatterbrained that they would forget their head if it wasn't permanently attached. They're good at some things, bad at others, they have hobbies and ambitions and desires and all of that factors in to how you interact with them. You send a particular picture/meme/tweet/text to some people and not others for considered reasons even if you don't think too hard about why you make those choices.

This is how you build a character: give them some traits and build their dimensions and have them interact in your world in 3-D. You don't have to do all of the development at once, but start off with a framework, say a thing they are good at, a thing they're bad at, a quirk (not A Quirk, just something notable), and something extremely human about them and see where those data points hit stuff in your story. Example: on Lorne's team, Suarez is introduced as extremely OCD about his gear, a guy who posed for a USMC beefcake charity calendar (and is very tired of getting crap about it), the team's best marksman, and the only one of the three who doesn't speak Spanish. He's the least ambitious and intellectual of the three, but that's not explicit. He doesn't like being in another galaxy and that is.

For (b), playing to your strengths is sometimes working around your weaknesses. I'm terrible at physical descriptions of people -- I can't 'see' people in my head, so I don't describe them in any detail. On Lorne's team, Reletti's blond, Ortilla's gigantic, and Suarez is apparently good-looking enough (or shredded enough) for the calendar. And that's frankly more than most of my OCs get. Nancy Clayton's only descriptor is that she dyes her hair purple. Over in the MCU, I'm pretty sure I've never given Miranda Tung anything beyond a bit of a drawl because she grew up in Greensboro, NC. So I double-down on what I can do and it works well enough. If you can paint word pictures of people, absolutely add them to your character sketches! Just, you know, don't do that thing where you write "the blond said to the brunet" because you don't like using too many pronouns. ;)

[scifimedic]

My friend, who is visually impaired, has been coming over to my place so we can binge watch 14 hours of Stargate SG-1 whenever we both have a free day.

With her being blind, she taught me how to properly describe the events on the screen in real time- which I have become quite good at. We’ve been over the SGC- how I think the briefing room feels, what the infirmary smells like, and that every planet looks like Canada.

HOWEVER- when we were watching Need together, she paused the show and straight up asked me:

“You think Daniel’s cute, don’t you?”

I said, “why do you think that?”

She said “Well, you spend way more time describing what he’s doing than the other characters. What he looks like. Even when he’s not speaking and I wouldn’t even know he’s in the scene you’re talking about that he’s not wearing glasses or doing his little self-hug thing.”

And… well… guilty as charged.

[phtalogreenpoison]

Reynie Muldoon Part 2

To start off this second post about my blorbo Reynie Muldoon, I would like to correct a former vagueness.  To credit the person who mentioned the Heart and Leader roles, I would like to give a shoutout to @sophieswundergarten!  I would also propose that this contributes to why Constance is so kidnappable and chased after, but I digress. 

So besides Reynie’s roles in the society, something that I find absolutely fascinating about him is that he is repeatedly described as a completely “average boy” and easily the most personable of the four (with maybe Kate coming as a close second in a different kind of people smarts way though).  But though he is seen as the most “normal” of the group, not everything adds up.  Before the Mysterious Benedict Society formed, he really didn’t have any lasting friends, and the only people he could maybe count as friends would be Seymour the orphanage cat (meow!), the significant portion of time he spent alone with himself, and his teacher Miss Perumal (I love her, but this is more of a mentorship/parent role).  Even considering them, one is a nonhuman animal, and Miss Perumal is not his age, certainly does not give any cool points for people his age, and has not been in his life until more recently.  But yet the fact remains that he is still able to appear friendly.  All of this is not to say I don’t think Reynie is a good person (because he really, really is a good kid), but it points to the fact that he gets his people skills from something a little more mentally ill.  And to me, that points to neglect.  As someone expected to be a golden child situations paraded out for the orphanage in certain situations, with his further development being ignored by the director until Miss Perumal, and as someone who is also able to evade his longtime bullies (for being a nerd or something I don’t remember) by seemingly being uninteresting and boring, he learns to adjust how he presents specific aspects of his personality to people.  Again, most people have different sides of themselves they show to different people, but this errs more on the side of having different masks for survival.  On a related note, as an emotionally neglected child myself, you learn that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself and cannot ask for help, contributing to Reynie’s desire to control the situation he’s in and in a weird way, forcing him to develop his leadership skills.

I feel like to some people, this could seem that I am painting him in a bad light.  I am not, merely that he is a deeply hurt child who has found certain ways to cope.  Obviously, once he meets Miss Perumal and the society, he begins to develop these coping mechanisms in a way that is healthier for himself, which really points out the fact that how people develop is so tied to what support they receive in childhood or adolescence.  Again, while the other kids have had to fend for themselves in similar ways, it is specifically this that brings out Reynie’s traits of intelligence, even though they could have developed in better circumstances.  Anyways, I am trying to say here that his ability to read a room is tied to his life experiences, which leads me to my next point that Reynie’s form of intelligence is often tied to cleverness.  For example, I heavily relate to the way that Reynie took the entrance test for the Mysterious Benedict Society, in that he viewed it as a puzzle to solve.  He did not know all of the facts straight up, but he did know how to use the information provided to him and extract what he needed out of that.  While he is also a certain level of book smart, he uses what knowledge he has available to him a shrewd manner. 

While I won’t finish in this post how this all ties in, he occasionally uses these abilities to manipulate the situation around him.  This for the most part is redirecting his bullies (considered acceptable), working information out of Mr. Curtain (considered acceptable), and later throwing the radio out from his friends (considered not acceptable).  But remember the false dream he has which causes him to fear that he would side with Mr. Curtain in the first book and betray his newfound friends?  This fear roots out of the fact that he is unsure of where to draw the line with his manipulative abilities early on, but he is ultimately different because of his care for the people around him.  While he may make mistakes, he is doing this for the people around him, and he is able to listen to others’ opinions.  He does not always think that he knows best, and if there is a better, easier way, he will probably take that route.  And as I hinted before, I do not necessarily think this is a bad thing to utilize, but the key thing that makes its usage a mistake is if he rates his opinion higher than the people he trusts.

This is all a really long way of saying that I love Reynie, and he is a nuanced individual who learns how to direct these same impulses in a far healthier way once he receives proper support, leading him to grow into a wonderful person.  I may seem a little morally gray here, but I just want to emphasize that sometimes, it is the situation that pushes a kid in a certain direction with their natural abilities.   (Next up will be parallels to Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain!  Among other things!)

[bidokja]

I was joking a while back that the actor they have playing KDJ for the orv movie was too handsome for him and a friend who's read orv was like "KDJ is actually secretly attractive!!" And I just felt my soul leave my body right then

SIGHS...

Okay. Buckle in. I'm gonna finally actually address and explain and theorize about this whole...thing.

I'm not gonna cite any exact chapters cause it's like 11:30 and I've got an 8 hour drive in the morning but I'll at least make an approximate reference to where certain things are mentioned. Also, this post is just my personal interpretation for a good bit of it, but it's an interpretation I feel very solid about, so do with that what you will. Moving on to the meat of things:

There is one (1) instance in the web novel that I know of which describes specific features of Kim Dokja (especially ones other people notice). This takes place when members of KimCom are trying to make Kim Dokja presentable to give his speech at the Industrial Complex (after it's been plopped down on Earth). This is when they start really paying attention and focusing on Kim Dokja's appearance since they're putting makeup on him; I still don't think they can interpret his whole face, but they can accurately pick out and retain more features than usual. If I remember correctly they reference him having long eyelashes, smooth skin, and soft hair. These features can be viewed as (stereotypically) attractive.

Certain parts of the fandom have taken this scene and run with it at a very surface level, without realizing (or without acknowledging at the very least) that this scene is not about how Kim Dokja looks. This is, in part, due to not realizing or acknowledging why Kim Dokja's face is "censored" in the first place, and what that censoring actually means. I think it's also possible that some people are assuming the censorship works like a physical phenomena rather than an altered perception.

I'll address that last point first. The censorship of Kim Dokja's features is not something as simple as a physical phenomena. It's not a bar or scribble or mosaic over his face. If that were true it'd be very obvious to anyone looking at him that his face is hidden. But his face is not hidden to people. They can look at him and see a face. If they concentrate on his eyes, they can see where he's looking. They know when he's frowning or grinning. They see a face loud and clear. But what face are they seeing? Because it's not really his, whatever they're seeing.

No one quite agrees on what he really looks like. And if they try and think about what he looks like, they can't recall. Or if they do, it's vague, or different each time. We notice these little details throughout the series. Basically, Kim Dokja's face is cognitively obscured. Something - likely the Fourth Wall, though I can't recall if this is ever stated outright - is interfering with everyone's ability to perceive him properly. This culminated in him feeling off to others; and since they don't even realize this is happening, they surmise that he is "ugly."

Moving on to the other point about what the censorship means: To be blunt, the censorship of his face is an allegory for his disconnect from the "story" (aka: real life, and the real people at his side). The lifting - however slight - of this censorship represents him becoming more and more a part of the "story" (aka: less disconnected from the life he is living and the people at his side). The censorship's existence and lifting can represent other things - like dissociation or depersonalization or, if you want to get really meta, the fact that he is all of our faces at once - but that's how I'd sum up the main premise of it. (The Fourth Wall is a larger part of the dissociation allegory, but that's for another post).

So you see, them noticing his individual features isn't about the features. It's not about the features! It doesn't matter at all which features got listed. Because they could describe any features whatsoever and it would not change the entire point of the scene. Because the point isn't what he looks like. The point is that they can truly and clearly see these features. For the first time. They are seeing parts of him for the first time. Re-read that sentence multiple times, literally and metaphorically. What does it mean to see someone as they are?

This is an extremely significant turning point dressed up as a dress-up scene.

---

P.S. / Additionally, I'm of the opinion that Kim Dokja is not handsome, and he is not ugly. He is not pretty, and he is not ghastly. Not attractive, nor unattractive. Kim Dokja isn't any of these things. More importantly, Kim Dokja can't be any of these things. The entire point of Kim Dokja is that you cannot pick him out of a crowd; he is the crowd. He's a reader. He's the reader. Why does he need to be handsome? Why must he be pretty? Why is him being attractive necessary or relevant? He doesn't, he doesn't, it's not. He is someone deeply deeply loved and irreplaceable to those around him, and someone who cannot even begin to recognize or accept that unless it's through a love letter masquerading as a story he can read. He is the crowd, a reader, the reader. He's you, he's me. He's every single one of us.

[specialagentartemis]

cannot believe this musical concept album gave me Real Feelings about a character from the Odyssey who appears, like, twice

[sysig]

It started with a whisper ♥ (Patreon)

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

[amplexadversary]

Ashton Greymoore: “See, this is what happens when you start externalizing every fucking problem that you have. Easy to take a look at.

There’s a bunch of people who are treating other people like, just like they’re fucking nothing, like they’re fucking pawns. It doesn’t matter what the fuck they want - they are doing it wrong, it is not hard to see.

You’re being fucked with. We’re all being fucked with; whatever the fuck they say they’re doing, that’s where I draw the g-, the line. If they had such a great idea of what the world was supposed to be and what that thing was, they could just tell people.

But instead they’re making everybody miserable. They’re killing people.

Fuck that, fuck them, and I am going to be more than happy to drop a fucking ship on them.

I’m so sick of this shit.”

-Critical Role, Campaign 3, Episode 49 1:43:02

[decoloraa]

Happy birthday to the doctor and breaker of heart ❤️ keep on slaying and making random dudes fall for you