#Labeling Machine Selection

[technogenenterprise]

Discover Different Sticker Labeling Machines for Industries

Labeling plays a crucial role in various industries, including pharmaceuticals, food and beverages, cosmetics, and chemicals. Proper labeling ensures compliance with regulations, enhances brand visibility, and improves efficiency in production lines. With the advancement of automation, sticker labeling machines have become an integral part of industrial packaging. These machines streamline the…

[circeyoru]

Breaking Up 101 = Requested

The Request

[Mafia Boss!Sung Jinwoo x Completely Opposite Lover!Reader - Mafia AU]

Weakness is something that everyone has―even the most powerful, strong, and influential people. For some, a weakness is something to use to threaten another, while others might not even have one to speak of, then there are those that have more than one, maybe a whole list. Who knows. But how does one handle his or her weakness? Protect? Hide? Shelter? Destroy? Ignore? Now, that could create many scenarios and potential outcomes.

Picture the big bad. The worst of the worst. The coldest and cruellest in the neighbourhood. The mightiest and most important in the Underworld. The one person who controls an entire domain of the country with the pure power and might of his strength and fearsome aura. The one person that everyone once disregarded as the weakest and most insignificant when he came from a well-known morally good family and was the heir. The one who rose in power and influence like flipping a switch. The one who was said to be emotionless and bloodthirsty. How would you handle being that big bad’s weakness?

You pouted as you stared at the plushie in the glass box. The claw moved as you directed and descended into the pile to grab something. There, it grabbed onto one of them but quickly dropped it back into the pile within seconds and rolled a bit closer to the exit that would let you claim your prize. If you had powers, you want telekinesis right now so that you wouldn’t have to waste your money. Well, it wasn’t your money per se, but― Hold up…

When your train of thought went back to a familiar pattern, your head snapped to the side that would shame horror actors and actresses. The figure next to you flinched at attention with a twitching smile, already aware of the issue you’ll bring up. Your glare changed its target from the plushies to your supposed guard entertainer. Though there was another name you’ll label, “Mister time-staller,” You gave him an innocent and threatening smile. “Where oh where is your boss, hm?”

“Boss had something to handle urgently…” Beru, the killing machine and menace of the Underworld―infamous assassin that gave the government and officers an early grave when encountered, was reduced to a mere plushie holder. Right at this moment, he was the receiver of your impatient and cute complaint wrath. “Boss said you can do anything while waiting for him to arrive.”

You raised an eyebrow at him; a thought came to mind. “Anything?”

“Anything.” Beru nodded confidently.

“If you say so.” You showed the assassin your open palm, “Give me your phone.”

Elsewhere, in a dark and damp underground basement area, guards in black uniforms all stood at attention, and posh was surrounded all sides of the room. Some of a more diminutive and leaner stature wore a mask that mimicked the mouthpiece of a helmet from a suit of armour―The Knights Family, others with a bigger and buffer build covered their face with an animal or insect-based mask―there were the more noticeable families; The Frost Family and The Skitter Family. Of course, many more families within this powerful mafia weren’t present.

Then, there were the two unique guards among the group. It was debatable to the outsider which one was the ‘Underboss’ or ‘Consigliere’ as each of the three (not two because one was stationed elsewhere, wink, wink) were equally important and essential to the boss. There was the ‘Capo’ of The Knights Family, Igris who was infamous for his use of bladed weaponry and having incredible wisdom and insight to aid in his boss’ ascend for he had been with the boss since the beginning. The strongest candidate for ‘Consigliere’ and the one from a fallen mafia but now follows the new boss under the selection of his former, Bellion who was built like a tank and unrivalled in brute force and power.

Standing on top of such an impressive group of people was the boss, Sung Jinwoo. Like a snake shedding its skin, he was nothing like the former weakling he was. He was the unmoveable boulder that people must bend to and watch out for, not that insignificant pebble on the side of the road. To ensure his family’s safety and survival, he had to turn to the world’s darker side. He was taken in by a fallen mafia boss who was hunted by the others who were once his comrades in arms against the light. He has proven himself challenge after challenge after challenge that he deserved power and status. He will gasp at anything that could save his mother from the hospital. Even being the shadow everyone now fears and shivers at the thought of him.

“I don’t care why you betrayed me. Just tell me where and who you send that information to.” Jinwoo’s eyes bore into the lying figure on the floor under a puddle of his own blood and wheezing softly from the wounds all over his form. From that poor soul’s perspective, the lighting gave Jinwoo’s eyes an ominous purple glow and his shadow appeared neverending. Jinwoo looked like the judge of Hell with his black clothing from head to toe, that handsome appearance that would make men green with envy and ladies melt into the ground was haunting his very core. Or he could be near death and hallucinating Jinwoo’s otherworldly aura.

“...I… I can’t tell… I was framed…” The man breathed out in gasps as if he were underwater, lacking oxygen. “There’s a traitor… in your mafia…”

A dark chuckle shook the man’s core. The man heard that this frightening boss was young compared to the others. He heard that this cruel boss was all brute force and murder with no tact. He heard that this powerful boss lacked experience and was an easy target for rumours and sways. Yet why the moment his near lifeless eyes met with those cold chilling pair staring down at him with disapproval from highup did his instincts telling him every one of those beliefs were just… a lie?

“I… I can’t…” Tears wanted to flow down his eyes in dispair. He was nothing in the grand scheme of things. It was disposable to the ones in power. He didn’t have information of what he was getting himself into nor why he was needed to do it. It was just an order and that’s that. Complete the mission and return to live another day until the next order. Or, fail the mission and face death by whoever will be his judge. 

The other with the same mission and order as him had already suffered their fates. Their bodies scattered all around him, mixing their blood with his, men or women all weren’t met with any form of mercy. Some were cut down like butter with Jinwoo’s trusty daggers, some were devoured by tigers and wolves the mafia trained and kept around, then there were some that died with their heads detached from their bodies for threatening harm upon Jinwoo’s weaknesses. 

“I really… don’t… know…” If he had known something―anything―he could would have given it up for his life was more important to loyalty when he was being thrown away and subjected to such torture. Sung Jinwoo, the boss of the infamous Shadow Mafia, wasn’t human; he was the god of death to everything and everyone that crossed him. “Please…”

Just as Jinwoo was about to speak, a familiar ringtone cut through the silence and everyone stared at Jinwoo’s coat pocket. The man blinked and shifted his dagger from one hand to the other, he fished out his phone and read the caller. There was a brief unnoticeable sigh of relief before he took the call, “I told you, no amount is too big, just continue to stall some more time before I can make it there.”

The silence after Jinwoo’s words made him listen closely to the background sound. There was the loud music from what he recognized as the tune from the arcade you’d frequent to go through the pain of trying to get one plushie or whatever was inside when he could have just brought them all. “Where’s the fun in that?” You once exclaimed in his face and pushed him into the hot seat to get your prize. When the prize did―finally―fall down and you were clinging to his side with a koala from sheer happiness, it was worth all the trouble. But he fixed the scam he noticed while playing, the shop owner had her life flashed before her eyes.

“Beru?” Jinwoo asked. There was no way Beru would be in an arcade alone. Issue was… He couldn’t hear you at all in the background. No usual scolding at the machine or begging the claw to hold onto your prize. Nothing. “Beru, if you do not say anything I’ll―”

“Sung Jinwoo!”

Everyone―and I mean everyone in the room―flinched from the volume. Even the idle guards and the two right-hand men of the boss flinched. As for the guilty man himself? Now only a few people on the planet have the right and authority to call this crazy boss by name, not to mention shout his name in his face so freely. Even without that right, by voice alone, Jinwoo knew who was on the other end.

“Love, why do you have Beru’s phone?” Jinwoo immediately cleared his throat to make his voice gentler and turned his back to the confused dying man on the ground. His other hand played with his dagger as he tried to find ways of calming your anger. “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?” 

“Aren’t you smart to have our meeting place be in an arcade!?” He could imagine the puffed-up cheeks while you scolded him. “I have been playing, no, waiting for 2 hours! Where are you?!”

Jinwoo chuckled at your blunder, as he thought, you couldn’t resist the claw machines. His head turned to the side to eye down at the mess he made. Had he really been taking that long while he kept you waiting? “Love, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need! We’re done! I’m going home and you never show your face in front of me again!” And the phone was hang up.

Doo… Doo… Doo…

Igris and Bellion looked at each other with wide eyes while the other guards all shivered. Not just because of their boss’ growing murderous aura, but also because of your words. If anyone could save them from their boss’ wrath, it was you. You were basically the unofficial boss since Jinwoo treated you like royalty, you were usually dubbed the Mini-Boss. Anyways, back to the situation at hand, everyone was in for some form of pain.

Within the few seconds of Jinwoo turning around, he threw the dagger at the man and pinned him back into the wall that was a few meters away. It pierced his heart and he was dead on the spot right then and there. Jinwoo turned back to his men, “Right now. Top priority…”

Everyone fell to their knee and bowed their head as they waited for their order.

“Get me everything that my beloved ever wanted.” Jinwoo glared down at them and promised. “Meet me in front of my darling’s place in two, no, one hour. Go!”

With that, everyone scrabbled to get out of the basement and immediately worked to regain your favour. Jinwoo kicked a head into another wall and instantly shattered it into a splat of broken bones and mushy flesh. You were his light, his saving grace, his everything. There was no way he would give you up from just a mere phone call. Even if it were something you wanted and done face-to-face, he still wouldn’t give you up for anything.

He headed to a flower shop as he carefully ordered your favourites and had the staff working much more diligently to make you the most perfect bouquet you’ve ever seen, even better than the previous one he sent you. From the paper’s colour to its pattern, to how the ribbons should be tied, he wrote down carefully on the plate surrounded by flowers ‘I’m sorry’ in cursive. He learned these random and trivia knowledge for you so he would know what was best for you on different occasions. After all, you deserved nothing but the best of the best in his eyes. 

At first, he envied how your life was so bright and light. He envied your freedom and words that proved you were ignorant of the darkest in the world―in human beings like him and his rivals that he crushed. How you effortlessly took him in from the rain after a mini mafia spat. As you said, he looked like a drenched-kicked puppy in the rain when you walk past him. He was just waiting for Beru to pick him up in his car. Though, you amused him and he let you take him back to your home. You gave him hot chocolate like he was a kid and had him dressed in an oversized hoodie and pants you accidentally ordered the wrong size. Then you two were watching a movie together.

You were so defenceless and innocent, you asked no questions and just showed him kindness without asking anything. You did ask him to clean up after himself when he had a mess, and make himself at home, but that was all there was to it. Even when Beru came to pick him up, you assumed he was friends with Jinwoo and immediately had him join the movie night since you were lonely when your friends were all busy with their studies. 

Another meeting and another chance encounter, then you two were dating. When you accidentally found out about his identity as a mafia boss, you hugged the him that was drenched in blood and held daggers in each hands. You cried for his lost childhood and innocence like you were his past self and emotions he locked away. He dropped his weapons and walls for you and hugged you close to his chest. You were a gift in his life. You were his saviour. You were his human self that would have been if he didn’t embrace the darkness.

So no matter what, he can’t give you up.

Jinwoo’s heart beat a million times per second, he felt as if he was a criminal being trialled by a merciless judge. He was the one up on the chopping block. His men were nowhere to be seen, but he couldn’t afford to wait any longer, every second lost was another chance wasted to win you back. His hand hovered over the fingerprint lock on the door, it had yours, his and some of his top men registered, but would he still be able to get in? Have you already removed his print from it to shut him out?

He’ll admit, his line of work was brutal and unpredictable. There were many dates where you waited for him to arrive for hours until he had to cancel altogether and get one of his top three to escort you home. You had been patient with him and this was your breaking point. Perhaps, you didn’t want an unfaithful lover like him, or you had better choices from the people flocking to you like moth to a flame. His hovered hand shook as the thought and reality of you leaving him could be a possibility.

Yet when it all came down to it. He rather you be happy in your life than suffer under the waves of your tears. He couldn’t lock you up and hide you from the world. You deserved to be dancing under the sunlight and singing melodies that enchanted anyone lucky enough to hear. You deserved it all, but he might not deserve your smile and laughter directed at him.

Beep!

The sounds of the lock unlock rang in his ears, his eyes widened in shock and surprise. His muscle memory clicked in place and his hand pushed open the door, his feet gracefully kicked off his shoes and nudged it to the side. He entered the dark apartment and closed the door behind him. He thought you might be in your room, you turned off all lights when you were in your bedroom to save money when he told you many times he would pay for it all cause you would bump into things in the dark. His hand moved to the switch and turn on the lights.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

“Happy birthday!” Voices all bombarded his ears.

His eyes blinked repeatedly until he adjusted his sight to the lighting. His form froze and his eyes stared at the scene before him. The living room was decorated as a party would have, with ribbons all over the place and a banner at the center that said ‘Happy Birthday, Sung Jinwoo’ with a little heart at the end. Then there was his family and you wearing party hats while holding mini confetti cannons, the colourful paper and plastic pieces where all over him and the floor.

“I think brother’s in shock, should I send him to the hospital?” Jinah, his sister, snickered.

“Dear, I don’t think it was that.” His mother sighed, scolding you momentarily, “You gave him a heart attack.”

“But aunt― mother, how else would the dummy even make it over? I waited for hours in the arcade!” You pouted and complained. 

Frankly, you all were still bickering and talking while Jinwoo was trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Birthday? It was his birthday? So you didn’t want to break up with him? Everything was fine? His eyes honed in on you still arguing with his family; the picture was so natural, as if you were part of his family. 

So, was this all planned? For him? To surprise him?

The flowers were abandoned on the floor and his arms caged you, pushing you into his chest as his face buried itself into your shoulder. “Beloved… You scared me…”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laughed as you returned the hug. “I knew you didn’t even remember your birthday when you pushed our last cancelled date to today…” You played with his hair while you eyed Igris and Bellion peeking their heads through the door behind Jinwoo with what you had them buy. “Today should be about you having fun, not working! Come on!” You let go and dragged Jinwoo into the living room to start the party. “Let’s forget you as the big bad mafia boss! Here, you’re just Jinwoo.”

“My lovely son.” His mother smiled at him.

“My stupid but cool big brother.” Jinah popped another confetti cannon in his face.

Before he could give his sister a messy hair makeover, you cupped his cheek and brought his lips to yours, “And my lover and future husband.”

“Wooow!!!”

“Congratulations!!”

Claps and cheers echoed all over.

“What?” Jinwoo was shocked with another surprise.

“Yup!” You cheekily smiled, “You’re not my boyfriend anymore! That’s why we’re breaking up! Hehe! I beat you to the punch!”

Jinwoo snapped his head at his mother and sister for confirmation and their smiles said all he needed, “I wanted to give you the perfect confession though…” His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb caressed your cheek with a soft touch as if you were made of glass. “A pity, but I’m not going to refuse your bold offer.”

You returned his gentle embrace with your own, even clung to him by the neck so you could have him bend down to your level to give him a kiss on the lips. “You will always only be Sung Jinwoo to me. You’re the only one for me.”

“And you’re the only one that can make my heart race so much.” Jinwoo smiled, his gaze gentle yet possessive, as if he and you were the only two people left in this world. You knew and he knew you knew that he could do anything for you. Even if he had to turn his back against it for your safety or happiness or both, he’d do it in a heartbeat. If you were ever gone from his life, he’d burn the world down. What good was all his power if he couldn’t protect and care for his family and you? “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You breathed, nuzzling into his chest.

“I love you more than you.”

“I love―”

“Okay, stop that cheesy romance thing!” Jinah came between the two of you, more like pulled you away from her brother since she couldn’t even push him to move for one inch when it came to being close to you. “We’re supposed to celebrate your birthday together, not be third wheels and watch a live romance film in the making.”

You blushed while Jinwoo glared at his sister for the interruption. You tugged Jinwoo’s sleeve and he immediately stopped his glaring to give you the puppy dog eyes, “Let’s enjoy the cake I made you.”

“Whatever you say, My Beloved.”

Note: Okay I promise the next one is from one of the ongoing series. I had fun writing this one~ So any comments? Or some banter you guys think would happen between these two? I'm curious.

Oh oh!! Also another trivia I wanted to know if you guys caught on. Do you know which family referred to which group of Shadows?

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @rozuburedo @ariseverdark @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme

[heliosunny]

Any plans for Luocha in the lucky egg series? :3

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Luocha x Reader

The darkness inside the coffin was stifling. Trapped in the cramped space, you tried to focus on your breathing, listening intently for any signs of movement outside. Luocha had left you here, he promised to return, but the unease crawling up your spine wouldn’t settle. The strangers chasing you both wouldn’t give up so easily.

As you lay still, your mind drifted back to how this all began.

Two hours ago.

You stood before a Lucky Egg Dispenser, eyeing the colorful selection of eggs rolling within the machine. With a deep breath, you inserted a coin, twisted the dial, and watched as an egg tumbled into the slot. The moment you picked it up, a strange feeling settled over you.

The egg was different. While most were smooth and uniform, yours had an intricate golden pattern along its shell. Attached to it was a small label: "Hatching Time: 3 Days. A great fortune awaits."

You had barely processed those words when a group of men nearby suddenly turned their attention toward you. They whispered among themselves, eyes darting between you and the egg. Then, they snatched it.

"Hey!" you yelled, chasing after them as they weaved through the crowded marketplace.

One of them, clearly in a panic, fumbled with the egg—and dropped it.

The world seemed to slow as the egg hit the ground, a crack spreading along its surface. A golden glow seeped through the fractures, illuminating the stunned faces around it. Then, with a soft shatter, the shell broke apart.

And out stepped Luocha.

Dazed, you barely registered the gasps of shock from the bystanders. He was tall, composed, dressed in elegant robes that seemed entirely too refined for someone who had just emerged from an egg. His emerald-green eyes flickered toward you, recognition glinting within them.

Without hesitation, he extended a hand.

"We should leave" he said, voice smooth and unwavering. "Now."

A loud noise outside the coffin jolted you back to the present.

Your heart pounded as you strained to listen.

Damn it, Luocha, where are you?

The muffled voices outside grew louder, more urgent. Then—a sharp cry, followed by the unmistakable sound of steel slicing through the air. A heavy thud.

You pressed yourself against the interior of the coffin, straining to hear more. Moments later, the lid of the coffin creaked open.

Light flooded in, forcing you to blink as your eyes adjusted. Luocha stood above you, his golden hair catching the dim glow of the surroundings, expression as calm as ever.

"You can come out now" he said, offering his hand.

You hesitated. Something felt…off. His robe, always pristine, had a small stain—a dark smear of blood near the hem.

The ground was littered with strange, blackened vines, their thorny tendrils twisted unnaturally. Some coiled around fallen bodies—the same men who had been chasing you earlier. Their faces were frozen in expressions of horror.

Luocha followed your gaze, then gently took your wrist, guiding you out of the coffin with ease.

“There’s no need to worry,” he assured, “They won’t bother us anymore.”

Then, before you could say anything, the coffin beside you vanished. Not folded away, not carried off—simply gone, as if it had never existed.

“…You can make it disappear?”

“Of course.”

The walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Though you were the one leading the way, Luocha’s grip on your hand never faltered—gentle but firm, like he had no intention of letting go.

At first, you chalked it up to caution. Maybe he was just making sure you didn’t get separated again. But then, as the streets twisted and turned, a realization settled in.

He knew exactly where to go.

Even when you hesitated at a crossroads, he subtly nudged you in the right direction. Even when you thought about taking a shortcut, he was already steering you there before you said a word.

It was like he had been here before.

Still, you were too exhausted to question it right away. By the time you reached your home, you were desperate for a bath, the events of the day weighing on you like a fog.

“Go ahead. I’ll prepare something in the meantime.”

That should have been your first warning.

Stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a robe, you froze at the sight before you.

Luocha stood in the kitchen, an apron tied neatly around his waist, golden hair cascading down his back. The soft glow of the kitchen lights framed him perfectly, making the entire scene look like something out of a dream—or maybe a very well-written romance novel.

The smell of whatever he was cooking filled the air, warm and inviting.

You sat down at the table, staring.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, unable to hold it in any longer, you blurted out:

“…Are you sure it’s okay that you hatched early?”

Luocha paused, then turned to you with a knowing smile, as if he had been waiting for you to ask that.

“Why?” he mused, placing a dish in front of you. “Do I seem… incomplete?”

You hesitated, watching as Luocha removed his apron with a graceful ease, folding it neatly before taking the seat across from you.

The food in front of you smelled incredible, but your mind was too tangled with questions to appreciate it fully. You picked up your utensil, poking at the dish absentmindedly.

“…You just came out of an egg a few hours ago” you said slowly, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Shouldn’t you be—”

“Weaker?” he supplied, head tilting slightly.

You nodded. “Or… at least confused about the world? Learning things? Adjusting?”

Luocha chuckled softly, resting his chin against his hand as he regarded you with amusement.

“Do I seem like I need time to adjust?”

That was the problem.

He didn’t.

You set down your utensil. “What… exactly are you?”

“Does it matter?” he asked. “Would you send me away if I wasn’t what you expected?”

“I wouldn’t just abandon you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about” he said simply.

You weren’t sure if that was supposed to reassure you.

And yet, when he reached forward and gently tucked a strand of damp hair behind your ear, you found yourself unable to pull away.

You forced yourself to eat, but the food—despite being perfectly cooked—felt tasteless in your mouth. Luocha, on the other hand, watched you with patient interest, as if studying your every reaction.

Something wasn’t right.

He hatched too early.

The label said three days. But it had only been a few hours. There was no way that could be normal.

“…You’re not completely stable, are you?” you asked, watching him carefully.

For the first time since he hatched, Luocha’s expression faltered.

Then, just as quickly, he smiled. “What makes you think that?”

“You haven’t eaten,” you pointed out. “Not once.”

"And when we were walking back" you continued, "you never let go of my hand. At first, I thought it was just because you didn’t want us to get separated, but now I think it’s something else.”

Luocha tilted his head, but said nothing.

“You needed to hold onto me. Didn’t you?”

“…You’re perceptive” he admitted, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “Yes. I need to be near you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to hatch alone.”

“What… does that mean?”

Luocha glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers as if testing them. For the first time, he looked uncertain.

“My body is formed, my mind is intact… but my stability is incomplete.” His voice was softer now. “The process that was meant to strengthen me over three days… was cut short.”

You suddenly remembered the vines from earlier—the way they had erupted from the ground, the eerie way they pulsed like something alive.

“The vines…”

“A manifestation” Luocha admitted. “A consequence of my early birth.”

"So, what happens if you’re too far away from me?"

“…I start to unravel.”

If he unravels completely… he might not come back.

A strange ache settled in your chest. Luocha wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to hatch properly, take his time adjusting—but because of you, because of what happened… he was here too soon.

You clenched your fists. This was your fault.

Luocha must have noticed your expression, because he let out a soft chuckle. “You’re making that face again.”

You blinked, confused. “…What face?”

“The one that says you’re about to take responsibility for something beyond your control.”

“Well, I did get the egg. If I wasn’t carrying it around, those guys wouldn’t have stolen it, and you wouldn’t have—”

Luocha reached out, placing a cool hand over yours.

“This is not your burden,” he murmured. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

“I promise,” you said firmly. “I’ll make sure you’re safe. If staying close to me helps you, then… then I’ll stay close. No matter what.”

“…You would do that for me?” he asked quietly.

You nodded.

“Then,” he said smoothly, squeezing your hand ever so slightly, “I suppose I’ll be in your care.”

From this moment on, you had already decided.

You would keep him safe.

No matter what.

That night, you couldn’t sleep.

Even with Luocha resting on the couch nearby, the weight of your promise pressed heavily on your chest. You had told him you’d stay by his side, that you’d make sure he was safe—but what if that wasn’t enough? What if his condition got worse? What if someone else found out about him?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A low, rhythmic sound outside your window.

Slowly, you sat up, peeking through the curtains. In the dim glow of the streetlights, you saw three figures approaching.

They carried a strange device—a handheld scanner with a pulsating blue light. It emitted a faint hum, and every time it pointed toward your house, the beeping grew faster.

Your head whipped toward Luocha. He was still lying on the couch, eyes closed, breathing even.

You turned back to the window just in time to see the figures move toward your door.

—Bang! Bang! Bang!

A loud, deliberate knock.

Before you could react, Luocha’s eyes snapped open. As if he felt it too.

"Stay quiet" you whispered, already reaching for him. "We have to—"

The door burst open.

Three strangers in dark uniforms stormed in, their faces obscured by helmets. One pointed the scanner at Luocha, and the device let out a high-pitched screech.

"Found him!" one of them barked.

Everything happened too fast.

Luocha moved but the moment he tried to stand, his body wavered. His balance faltered, his breath hitched, and for the first time since he hatched—

He looked weak.

The strangers rushed him, and before you could react, they forced him to his knees, metal cuffs snapping around his wrists.

"Wait! Stop!"

Luocha struggled, but his movements were sluggish, his body trembling slightly. The vines from before—they didn’t appear this time.

He was too weak to summon them.

“Let him go!” you shouted, stepping forward—only for one of them to shove you back.

“We don’t have business with you,” one of them said coldly. “Stay out of this.”

“If you take him, then take me too.”

“…What are you thinking?”

“You said you needed to be near me, right?” you said, “Then I’m not letting you go alone. Wherever you take him, I go too.”

The strangers exchanged glances.

“Fine.”

And before you could react, a sharp pain struck the side of your neck.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the sterile scent of antiseptic. The second was the sound of machines surrounding you.

You sat up too quickly, dizziness crashing over you, and a firm hand caught your shoulder.

"Careful"

Your vision cleared, and you found yourself staring at a man in a lab coat. He was tall and sharp-featured, with silver-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His ID badge read Dr. Erhardt.

"You've been unconscious for a while," Dr. Erhardt continued, letting go of your shoulder once he was sure you wouldn't collapse. "I imagine you're full of questions."

Your mind was still sluggish, but one question burned through the haze.

"Luocha," you breathed. "Where is he?"

"He's… stable. For now."

"I want to see him."

"Follow me" the scientist said, turning toward the door. "But first, I need to show you something."

Dr. Erhardt led you through a long, dimly lit hallway, walls lined with screens displaying fluctuating energy levels.

"Luocha is different from anything we've encountered," he began, gesturing to one of the screens. "His energy output is—frankly—unnatural."

You looked at the screen. At first, it just showed shifting graphs and numbers you didn’t understand. But then, as your eyes focused, you noticed something off.

His energy readings weren’t just high.

They were unstable, fluctuating in erratic patterns, constantly shifting like they didn’t belong in this world.

"...What does this mean?"

Dr. Erhardt exhaled, crossing his arms. "It suggests that Luocha isn't just some unusual being. He might be an entity from another timeline… or another universe entirely."

Another universe?

"But—he hatched from an egg" you murmured. "I saw it happen."

Dr. Erhardt nodded. "Yes, and that makes it all the more fascinating. Something, or someone, sent him here. But because he hatched too early, his body is incomplete."

Before you could ask more, Dr. Erhardt gestured toward a reinforced observation room ahead.

"You wanted to see him, didn’t you?"

Through the glass, you saw Luocha. He was sitting in a chair, strapped down, wires and electrodes attached to his body. His usually pristine appearance was gone—his golden hair clung to his face, damp with sweat, his breathing heavy.

His hands clenched at the armrests, knuckles white.

And despite the calm expression he always wore—he was in pain.

"What are you doing to him?"

Dr. Erhardt didn’t look away from the screen. "Testing his limits. Observing how long he can remain stable before his body begins to break down."

Then, through the glass, Luocha shifted slightly—his emerald eyes slowly lifting.

He was looking straight at you.

Luocha wasn’t resisting. He wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t calling for you. Because he had already decided to endure every single experiment they put him through. All for one purpose.

To obtain a proper body.

One that wouldn’t unravel.

Days blurred into weeks. The experiments continued, each one pushing Luocha closer to his limit.

You stayed even when it was painful to watch. Even when he refused to look at you sometimes, as if ashamed that you had to witness his suffering.

Dr. Erhardt often warned you.

"He’s growing stronger. Faster than we predicted."

"If he ever decides he no longer needs this place…"

You didn’t want to think about what would happen.

The screaming started at midnight.

You woke with a start, alarms blaring through the facility. The stench of blood was thick in the air. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallways—panicked, fleeing.

You barely had time to stand before the power cut out.

Red emergency lights flickered on, casting the walls in an eerie glow. You stumbled into the hallway, heart hammering in your chest.

A figure emerged from the darkness. Golden hair, green eyes, glowing faintly under the emergency lights. There was no more hesitation in his steps. No more exhaustion weighing him down. His presence, once fragile, now felt overwhelming.

Around him, bodies littered the floor, blood splattered across the walls, and broken machinery sparked uselessly.

This place—his prison—was no longer needed.

So he destroyed it.

"Luocha…"

"There you are.." he murmured.

Before you could answer, gunfire erupted.

Survivors- scientists, guards, anyone who had escaped his initial massacre were taking their last stand.

"Get rid of them!"

The moment the words registered, you felt the burn of a bullet tearing through your side, before you could hit the floor, Luocha caught you.

The pain in your side vanished instantly. You inhaled sharply, looking down to see the wound closing before your eyes.

Luocha had healed you.

And then, before you could even process it, he turned his gaze to the remaining guards— He raised his hand.

Vines—those same unnatural vines from before, but stronger, more controlled—erupted from the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

The guards barely had time to scream before they were ripped apart.

In mere seconds, the facility was silent once more.

Luocha exhaled, lowering his hand. He turned back to you, as if nothing had happened.

"I will not allow you to die." he murmured, brushing blood from your cheek with his thumb.

The facility was gone.

By the time you returned home, the scent of blood and metal still clung to you like a curse. Your mind was numb.

Luocha, however, was perfectly composed. As if the events of that night had never happened. As if he hadn’t slaughtered an entire facility full of scientists and guards.

You weren’t sure what scared you more—the massacre itself or how easily he had moved on from it.

Now, he was here. Living with you again.

And despite everything, he acted as if nothing had changed.

At first, you tried to pretend things were normal.

Luocha still followed you around the house like before, still cooked for you, still smiled that soft, unreadable smile whenever your eyes met.

But there were differences.

For one, he no longer seemed lost.

Gone was the quiet hesitation, the subtle instability that had clung to him after hatching too early. Now, he moved with a grace that was too perfect. His every step, every action was calculated, efficient.

It was as if he had finally become whole.

One evening, as you washed the dishes, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

He was sitting at the table, reading a book—one he must’ve picked up while you were out. His long fingers turned the pages slowly, as if savoring every word.

But then, you noticed something.

He hadn’t turned a single page in ten minutes.

You set the dish down, drying your hands. “Luocha?”

“…Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Staying,” he said, “Watching what I’ve done. Seeing what I’ve become.”

So he noticed.

"I…"

“…No,” you said softly. “I don’t regret it.”

“You always were a terrible liar” he murmured, turning the page at last.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were lying.

But if staying by his side was a mistake—

Then it was one you would continue to make.

----

Luocha was never meant to stay hidden.

He had endured the experiments, endured weakness—but now, he was something greater. And greater beings did not live in the shadows.

Luocha understood that ruling through fear alone was foolish. No—he would shape the world itself.

One night, he spoke to you about it.

You had been watching him from across the room, trying to piece together what he had been doing in secret—when he simply set down his book and met your gaze.

“I will not stay here forever” he said, his voice calm. “This place—it is temporary.”

“What are you saying?”

Luocha stood, walking toward you slowly, as if giving you time to absorb what he was about to say.

“I will take what is mine,” he murmured. “An empire. One that will not shackle me. One where you will never have to run again.”

“An empire…?”

He reached for your hand, fingers gentle yet firm around yours.

“This home of yours,” he continued, voice soft, “I will sacrifice it if I must. If you wish to stay, then we will build something greater.” His emerald eyes gleamed in the dim light. “A place where I do not need to hide.”

You didn’t answer right away.

It was too much.

“Luocha,” you finally said, “I don’t want that.”

His fingers, still curled around your hand, tightened just slightly.

You took a breath. “I don’t want some grand empire. I don’t want to rule, or watch you build something just to prove you no longer have to hide.” Your gaze met his, unwavering. “I just want things to be the way they are now.”

“…I see.”

He released your hand, stepping back. His expression remained calm, but something in his posture shifted.

Not disappointment.

But understanding.

And so, Luocha stayed.

For days, weeks, months—life continued as it was. He did not speak of conquest again.

He cooked. He read. He stayed by your side.

It was enough to make you believe he had let the idea go.

But deep down, Luocha never stopped planning.

He had simply adjusted his approach.

If you wouldn’t accept a kingdom built for him—

Then he would create something else.

Something that would ensure you never left him.

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Suna

This was supposed to be a career-maker.

You’d been selected to shoot the promotional campaign for the Japan National Volleyball Team’s off-season fundraiser—portraits, motion stills, and digital spreads for press releases. High-profile. High-pressure. This was the kind of assignment that could land you on the map, get your name known, secure you work for the next five years. You’d planned meticulously: shot schedules, lighting plans, subject rosters, backup batteries labeled by time stamp.

And still, you were already behind schedule because some players couldn’t grasp the concept of being on time.

Most were manageable. Bokuto was loud but sweet, Hinata actually listened, even Sakusa—grumpy and allergic to public attention—cooperated if you kept things sterile enough. You had to work around quirks, sure, but it was doable.

The only real problem?

Rintarō Suna.

Tall, smug, unbothered—he made disinterest an art form. It wasn’t just the tardiness (though that was frequent and infuriating). It was the casual disregard, the deliberate poking. Like he enjoyed watching you unravel, one eye-roll and bored shrug at a time. Like he thrived on getting under your skin.

You were halfway through setting up for his shoot—adjusting the overhead lights for the third time, irritation clawing at your spine—when the door creaked open.

12:17. Seventeen minutes late.

You didn’t look up. “You’re late.”

A pause. Then, his voice—dry, bored, and tinged with something close to amusement.

“Traffic.”

You glanced at him, eyes cold. “You live five minutes away.”

Rintarō Suna leaned against the doorframe like he’d just wandered in off the beach. Hoodie loose, hair messy, sweatpants slung far too low to be appropriate for professional media. His duffel bag hung lazily off one shoulder, and he was sipping a drink from a vending machine cup like he had all the time in the world.

“And yet,” he said, taking another slow sip, “I’m here. Aren’t you glad?”

“Take off your jacket and shirt,” you snapped, already adjusting your camera settings, fingers tight on the dial.

He blinked, exaggeratedly. “That’s aggressive.”

“No. You’re aggressive to my time.”

He didn’t move. Just gave you that flat look, the one that made your blood itch. “So bossy. Did no one ever teach you how to ask nicely?”

You dropped your hand from the camera, straightened to your full height, and glared. “Did no one ever teach you how to respect someone’s job?”

That actually made him smirk—low and slow, like he was settling into a familiar game. You watched his gaze flicker across the studio, land on your lighting setup, the gear cases lined up against the wall, the stool you’d carefully marked with tape for positioning. He took in every detail like none of it mattered.

You crossed your arms. “Shirt. Off. Or I’m switching you out with Komori and sending you to the end of the rotation.”

He gave a soft whistle. “Cold.”

“And still warmer than your sense of professionalism.”

Suna sighed like this was the hardest thing anyone had ever asked of him, but peeled off the hoodie in one slow pull. Then the shirt followed—revealing lean, cut muscle, smooth planes and sharp lines that even you had to admit photographed well. Unfortunately.

“Happy now?” he asked flatly, chest rising and falling with deliberate boredom.

You lifted your camera. “Hardly.”

Flash.

He winced, and you didn’t hide the satisfied smirk that flickered over your face.

“Consider that payback for last week,” you said, angling for another shot. “You were thirty-five minutes late and came in with an iced matcha.”

“Should’ve brought you one,” he muttered, half to himself.

“You wouldn’t survive the fallout.”

“I’d go down smiling.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“I get that a lot.”

He settled into the chair you’d positioned, slouching immediately, arms dangling over the sides like a ragdoll. You hissed under your breath and gestured for him to sit up.

He stared at you. “You’re fun when you’re mad.”

“And you’re only photogenic when you shut up.”

You lifted the lens again. Behind it, you scowled.

I hate him. The thought pulsed with every snap of the shutter.

And of course—of course—he looked like a goddamn magazine cover. But in the same fashion, he rarely made it easy for you to capture it.

Because here you were, staring down the barrel of a nightmare: the man himself, draped across the chair like it was a hammock, posture all wrong, arms sprawled like he didn’t have a single working bone in his body. Slouched so far down he could have been auditioning for the role of human puddle.

"Back straight," you barked from behind the camera, adjusting your focus ring with a little more aggression than necessary. "Stop slouching."

He didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned further into the chair, eyelids heavy with boredom, like your orders were more of a gentle breeze than direct instruction.

"Suna."

He tilted his head at a lazy angle, all dry amusement and half-lidded interest. "I am straight."

You set the camera down. Firmly. The slap of the base against the table echoed far louder than it needed to.

He didn’t flinch. Of course he didn’t. He just watched you approach like you were the most interesting thing to happen all day, which you knew damn well wasn’t a compliment. His gaze slid over your body with that practiced, bored sort of curiosity, like he was cataloguing all the ways you might explode.

You stepped into his space, squatted slightly behind the chair, and shoved a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t react. Didn’t resist. Just let you press into the muscle there and guide him upright like he was a mannequin.

"There," you muttered, voice tight. "Like that. Hold it."

A beat of silence. Then: "You touch all your clients like this?"

Your hand dropped instantly. "Only the ones who act like toddlers."

He chuckled, low in his throat, and the sound crawled over your skin like static. "That explains a lot."

You turned on your heel, ready to toss something back, but froze mid-pivot when you saw his eyes.

They weren’t where they were supposed to be. Not on the lights, or the set, or even your face.

They were on your hands.

Lingering.

He blinked slowly, like he wasn’t even pretending to hide it. And when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, there was something in them that hadn’t been there before. Something molten. Heavy. A heat that made your stomach pitch and your spine go stiff.

"You done staring?" you snapped, jaw clenched.

He shrugged, as if the motion took effort. "Didn’t say it was a bad view."

You turned so fast you nearly tripped over a light stand, heart thundering in your ears. The temperature in the studio was suddenly unbearable.

You didn’t want this heat.

"Hands on your thighs," you bit out. "Chin down. Eyes here."

He obeyed—not quickly, but without any more smartass comments. For once, the air between you felt still. But it wasn’t calm. No, it was charged. Like the moment before a summer storm—hushed, tense, humming with something about to break.

You snapped three photos. Then five. Then a dozen more. Through the viewfinder, he was a dream. The kind of subject you could build an entire portfolio around. Not because he was cooperative—God no. But because he was magnetic in a way that made you want to curse.

Every line of his body, every tilt of his head, the lazy sprawl that shouldn’t have worked on camera but did? It translated into something raw. Compelling. Something that sold.

You adjusted the lens. Moved closer. Framed his face in the shot. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared straight through the camera like he knew it would rattle you.

And then he smiled.

Not a real one. Not the wide, winning kind the sponsors loved. Just the faintest pull of one corner of his mouth. Just enough to sharpen his cheekbone and twist his mouth into something between a smirk and a secret.

Click.

The flash snapped.

You dropped the camera from your face, brow furrowed.

"You smiled."

"You looked like you needed the win."

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you checked the preview screen. And sure enough, it was perfect. Lighting. Angles. Expression.

Damn him.

You turned the screen toward him like it was a slap.

"You’re welcome," he said, not even looking.

"You’re not that charming."

"But I am photogenic."

Your teeth ground together so hard your jaw ached.

You hated that he was right.

And you hated even more that he knew it.

[fanfictionlibrary01]

AO3 Data Scraped for AI Training Dataset

What is happening, and what you can do. Check for potential edits with additions at the end of the post!

What is happening? What do we know?

A user going by "nyuuzyou" on the HuggingFace platform uploaded a dataset a few days ago - containing scraped content from AO3. HuggingFace is a very popular platform and widely used for sharing machine learning and AI models/datasets. The scraped dataset includes fics, fanart, and other fanworks - all taken without permission and intended for use in training gen AI models. You can find more information in this Reddit post.

This dataset is one of several compiled from various websites—at least seven in total. While two datasets have been removed, the AO3 one was only disabled on HuggingFace. This means that it’s not downloadable at the moment but still visible. It may also return if takedown efforts end up being challenged/reversed by that user.

Key Details

Scope: On AO3, all content with work IDs between 1 and 63,200,000 has been targeted. The work ID is the number at the end of a work's URL — for example, in https://archiveofourown.org/works/12345678, 12345678 is the work ID. You can find it by simply opening the work and checking the URL in your browser’s address bar. So, if your work falls in that range and is publicly accessible (i.e., not locked and open to everyone, including guests), it’s mostly likely included in the dataset. This dataset is currently disabled on HuggingFace, but that doesn't mean it's gone. It's only a temporary takedown as of now.

Takedown notices have been issued, but this user has also uploaded the dataset to other sites after backlash and partial removal.

There are talks in the discussion forums of potentially moving this dataset to Telegram, torrents, and/or other private channels.

HuggingFace AO3 dataset page

Other distributed sites listed here (as per a Reddit comment)

Currently deleted from ModelScope

What can you do?

Should the dataset return again and you see that your work was affected: file your own DMCA or copyright takedown notice. The uploader, in their own words, "has not agreed to take down the entire repo. At this time, the scraper has agreed with taking down art from the person who owns the copyright. That means each of you will need to request a takedown."

Instructions and a sample CSV template to list your work IDs for removal are provided in this guide. You can find more details in this announcement by PaperDemon.

Lock your works! It would limit visibility to registered users only, and is a very good step to prevent scraping or unauthorized use. To lock all your works on AO3, go to “My Works,” click “Edit Works,” and select all. Then click “Edit” and check the box labeled “Only show to registered users.” Scroll down and click “Update All Works” to apply the change.

⚠️ | Final Notes:

This user has so far shown no signs of stopping and is continuing to redistribute the data across multiple sites, even after numerous takedown requests (read more here). So, we can only recommend to be cautious and beware, lock your works, feel free to make use of takedown notices if you're unfortunately affected, and spread the word to fellow creators.

Follow up on this and get the latest updated in the Fanfic Communities Network (FCN) Discord Server!

If you have more information regarding this - e.g. if works from other sites are affected too - please reach out to us in the FCN!!

Edit (2025-04-26):

The user who has scraped the works has, upon request by another person, posted a way to convert ao3 json to markdown:

https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown/discussions/170

https://gist.github.com/nyuuzyou/b2f83669ad80a22e435728245ebcdf9f

This shows us that nyuuzyou continues to show no signs of taking down the scraped works.

Edit (2025-04-28):

A user warned that even archive-locked AO3 fics were included in a scraped dataset (most likely taken while the scraper was logged in, before they were banned or switched to public-only access). Some public works were missed as well:

https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown/discussions/213#680fcdb76d9e022324a70cf1

Edit (2025-05-03):

Hey everybody, this is a bit late, but the AO3 dataset has been permanently removed from HuggingFace: https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown. While this unfortunately doesn’t prevent it from being shared elsewhere (like torrents) nor does it guarantee any deletion of past downloads and whatnot, having it taken down from a major platform like HF is still a significant step forward. (There is more info about other sites on PaperDemon.)

So please don’t be disheartened—every action counts, and this shows that pushing back and filing DMCAs and copyright notices as appropriate does make a difference. We’ll certainly keep an eye out for more info and post updates here, but thank you again to everyone who helped report, spread the word, or supported the effort. Keep reading, keep writing. ♥️

[j5daigada]

some random observations I made in japan, which I'm posting because I found them interesting and also why not

putting them under "read more" for anyone who is interested in reading them

probably the last thing I will post related to japan...!

+18 comics/doujins usually had their own designated floors or sections, sometimes next to the shelves of safer comics, separated by curtains, if even that. In one of the stores, the line to the cashier was formed through the +18 section of the store. The floor for +18 comics was commonly labelled as "doujinshi for men" (and the floor for BL, sometimes bara too, as "doujinshi for women"). All the comics were covered in a plastic film, so you couldn't read them or even check what was inside; a bit tricky when trying to figure out if they contained what you wanted...!

Subways were super packed sometimes, but even then it felt like you had your own small space. There were also trains for women only, although apparently that was only enforced between 7-9 am, since after that time window everyone was just using them no matter how packed they were.

Many anime ads and posters in subways and stations. Many gacha and vending machines too (I got an oreo-flavored ice cream cone from one of them, I liked it).

The food was really good, I'm gonna miss it... It was very affordable too, as I could get a meal with a drink for ~1k-1.2k yen (which translates to around 6-7 euros or USD), which a lot of the time could keep me full for the rest of the day. Filled onigiri only cost around 100 yen, which is like 0.6 euros or USD. The only thing I didn't like super much was nori in ramen, since I found the taste too seawatery (although in onigiri it had a very neutral taste). Miso soup tasted pretty good, although the smell was pretty strong. Mochi is probably the softest thing I have touched.

At some convenience stores, they had a touch screen on your side of the counter where you had to select your payment method and whether the cashier had checked your ID for alcohol... kind of a minor point, but it was funny how I was the one needing to confirm that.

Many stoplights for pedestrians had visible countdown timers.

I know students wear uniforms, but I didn't realize kindergarteners/elementary school kids(?) also had color-coded hats until I ran into a couple different groups of them with their supervisors at a park.

Akihabara had a lot of girls outside advertising their maid cafe. I visited one with my friend and it was a pretty fun time, although there were a bunch of extra fees.

Surprisingly many people wore short skirts with bare legs despite it being December and +5C on some days. I don't think anyone would do that here where I live when it gets cold.

The toilet paper was super thin, probably about 3 times thinner than here...

Streets were super packed, especially on weekends. I don't think I've ever seen this many people in one place at the same time before (considering my country is very sparsely populated). Navigating through crowds of people was not too much of a problem though.

Many restaurants accepted foreign cards, but some didn't (such as one local burger joint). Usually they showed all the payment options outside the restaurant. Many restaurants also showcased wax versions of their meals outside, which was pretty handy for finding something you wanted to eat.

[little-one-eyed-monsters]

Smart Boom's Diary No. 3: They did a freakin' escape room and it was HILARIOUS from start to finish 🤣🤣🤣

Petition for all BL couples to do scary escape rooms. There's no proof of relationship more genuine than seeing how your ships treat each other in a life-or-death scenario 😅

Toxic fandom culture is out here duking it out about "alpha-omega male labels" and "top-bottom discourse", as if proving one or the other makes their ships better. Why can't we just enjoy watching a 185 cm, pro basketball player-sized manchild hide behind the one guy we've been baby-fying with cat ears for the past ten weeks? 😅

Smart's also a baby, you guys. The lesson here is we can all be baby. Why are we all fighting for dominance here? We can just admit we're scared and go find ourselves a Boom-sized shield.

Also, I do NOT feel sorry for Boom one bit. He chose the freakin' game. Smart warned him he'd be absolutely useless in a scare-fight, so Boom good luck solving this on your own while Smart cowers behind you 😅

(Sidenote: I have a feeling production asked them to choose the scary one. I felt like Boom was leaning towards choosing the easier rooms at the beginning, but camera cuts off and when it returns he selects the most popular horror game instead. To their credit, Boom did admit that he didn't mind scary games, and was the only useful person in that team 😅)

Well, I did feel sorry for Boom when he had to go through that Final Destination-esque MRI machine because Smart admitted he was claustrophobic:

Sorry Boom, no princess treatment here. You're literally the eldest in that room. You're the sacrifice 🤣

I love that Boom couldn't believe Smart was sacrificing him to the MRI machine TWICE, the abandoned tunnel, AND that separate patient's room in the span of an hour. Dude did every obstacle course in the name of his adorably shaky manchild. And Smart really out here showing us that no one should get special treatment when you're trying to survive a deranged murderer. Love that for them. 🤣

Last one, see this promise Smart made before locking Boom in that creepy MRI?

All men do is lie 🤣🤣🤣

(I'm just kidding, please don't cancel me fellow SmartBoomers 🙈)

[magic-shop-stories]

hiiii!! i love your writing and i think you’re absolutely amazing!! :)))

i wanted to ask what do you think yoongi would actually be like around his partner on a day to day basis like their normal routine? cuz a lot of people describe him as this cold and closed off person and a lot of people write him that way, but i feel like he’d be an actual big softie, esp around someone he’s comfortable with, i feel like he can be loud and clam as he wants to be i can never see yoongi as this cold man 😭 lol but what do you think?? in so curious about your response!!

(p.s. you’re genuinely my fav writer)

💌 Reply:

HI THERE💙 First, THANK YOU for this sweet-as-hell message... you made my tired little heart do a backflip 🥺 and I am so sorry this took ages; life’s been… a lot lately. BUT! I’m 1000% with you! Yoongi isn’t cold, he’s "selectively soft"... like, he’s the human equivalent of a grumpy cat who only cuddles ONE person but will scratch anyone else who tries to pet him. 😭 My take: he’s guarded, not icy. around his partner?... total marshmallow. He’ll grumble about “disgusting” PDA but hold your hand under the table at dinner. He’ll call you “annoying” for sending memes at 3 a.m.… then reply with a 10-minute voice note dissecting them. And YES, he’s loud... (sometimes) argues with the TV during basketball matches, sings your favourite songs in the shower, and laughs like a windshield wiper when you tickle him. 🖤 also… same. Lot of people, especially my bf's parents think i’m “calm and shy” but my friends know I’m a loud chaos gremlin who would do anything for them - ignoring social anxiety (like walking full confidence mode in a bakery, asking if they sell rubber boots - just for fun) - maybe that's why he's my bias... Yoongi’s that friend who’s silent at parties but sends you 47 texts about his new plant’s emotional needs. Privacy ≠ Coldness... it’s just love on HIS terms. ANYWAY, I got a little overexcited and wrote a *few headcanons of this... he’s a soft, salty, secretly clingy legend who will fight the microwave if it beeps too loud. THANK YOU so much for trusting me with this ask – c -

MIN YOONGI (SUGA) DAILY ROUTINE HEADCANONS  X PARTNER

MORNING

-“I’M A CAT, NOT A CEO”- or -“I’M NOT A MORNING PERSON, BUT YOU MAKE IT BEARABLE"-

Wake-Up Time (9:30 AM)

Yoongi stirs awake like a disgruntled cat

wakes at 9:30 a.m. after 7 hours of very specific sleep

= blackout curtains, white noise, 2 pillows minimum

burying his face in the pillow to avoid the sunlight creeping through the curtains

his first coherent thought is always: “Why does the sun hate me?”

first words: “Coffee. Now.”

if you’re still asleep, he’ll freeze mid-stretch

holding his breath to avoid waking you

he fails, because his elbow always knocks over the water glass on the nightstand

you crack one eye open to see him crouched on the floor?

he's swiping at the spilled water with a sock

“Go back to sleep."

cheeks pink

“This is… hydration therapy for the carpet."

REAL Coffee Ritual (9:45 AM)

shuffles/ tiptoes to the kitchen

hair sticking up in three directions

slams the coffee machine buttons with the intensity of a concert pianist

Loudly

because subtlety is for people who don’t have a Grammy

while it brews, he leans against the counter, squinting at his phone

you find him half-asleep standing up

his forehead pressed to the fridge

coffee pot beeps

he jolts awake

“I was meditating.”

later brings you a mug with a scribbled sticky note: “70% caffeine, 30% my soul.”

Breakfast (10:15 AM)

Yoongi’s ideal breakfast is whatever requires zero effort

maximum efficiency

he’ll eat cereal straight from the box or gnaw on a banana like a raccoon

if you mention craving kimchi jjigae, he’ll sigh dramatically

then spend 20 minutes digging through the fridge

burns the rice - Again

you poke the charred crust?

he crosses his arms

“It’s fusion cuisine. Carbon is a flavor.”

you both end up ordering delivery

he saves the burnt rice in a Tupperware labeled “Hyung’s Art™.” (just to annoy you a bit)

but if you’re sick?

suddenly he’s a Michelin chef

“I watched a YouTube video. Sit.”

presents you with seaweed soup that’s perfect

Pre-Studio Routine (10:45 AM)

disappears into the bathroom for his “productivity ritual”

= brushing his teeth while blasting Agust D’s “Daechwita” at full volume

mirror fogs from his aggressive air-conducting

you catch him mid-headbang

toothpaste dripping down his chin

he pauses, deadpan

“What? The dentist said to brush for two minutes. I’m being thorough.”

DAYTIME

-“I’M WORKING, BUT I’M ALSO JUDGING YOU”- or -“I’M BUSY, BUT I NOTICED YOU”-

Studio Hours (11:00 AM – 5:00 PM)

Yoongi’s studio is a sacred cave

empty coffe cups, MIDI controllers, and a single framed photo of your family dogs (because I'm 100% sure he'd have more than one if he had a partner)

texts you sporadically or every 90 minutes without context:

“Lunch?” (translation: I forgot to eat) “This kick drum sounds like a dying robot. Fix it.” (attaches a 3-second clip) “Why is the sky blue?” (he’s been staring at a synth preset named “Azure” for too long)

you drop off a lunchbox?

he’s so engrossed in a track that he doesn’t notice you until you wave a mandu under his nose

“Oh. You’re here.”

takes a bite mid-note

“...Not bad. Did you poison it?”

proceeds eats the whole thing

Studio Visit (3:00 PM)

if you stay, he lets you lurk, giving you his hoodie

plays you a demo he’s been obsessing over

stares at your face like a scientist awaiting a breakthrough

you hum a melody suggestion?

he rolls his eyes

“That’s… basic.”

two days later, you hear it in his new track

you call him out?

he mutters: “Coincidence.”

casually mentions he produced a track for PSY

when you freak out, he shrugs

“He’s cool. Liked my jeans.”

“Break Time” (4:30 PM)

drags you to the convenience store under the guise of “needing air"

translation: he wants strawberry milk and someone to rant to about the music industry

debates the cashier about the ethics of pineapple on pizza

slamming a bag of shrimp chips on the counter (but soft)

you find a pineapple juice in the grocery bag later

“For research."

drags you to the rooftop

translation: 10 minutes of him ranting about a synth plugin while stealing your fries

EVENINGS

-“LOUD, SOFT, AND UNFILTERED”-

Dinner (7:00 PM)

Yoongi’s cooking skills are much better than he'd ever admit

but also has a few things he just hates making

he’ll attempt kimchi fried rice if you’re sick

smoke alarm sings backup

serves you a charred lump with a side of cucumber slices cut into hearts

“Eat. Now.”

lets you feed him spicy tteokbokki

despite his “delicate palate”

sweats magnificently

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Post-Dinner Chaos (8:00 PM)

challenges you to Mario Kart or any other game you like playing

then loses spectacularly

“Rematch. Now.”

when he finally wins, he does a victory lap around the couch

“Bow to your king.”

you catch him practicing rainbow road alone at 1 a.m.

“Training."

ears red

next day, he beats you by 0.2 seconds and frames the score screen

Quiet Hours (10:00 PM)

reads webtoons/weverse posts; watches videos etc. with his head in your lap

snorting

“This guy’s a worse rapper than Jungkook.”

you stroke his hair?

he pretends not to purr

falls asleep mid-sentence

phone dropping on his face

you snap a photo

he wakes up, sees it, and deletes it

but not before setting it as your contact photo

NIGHTTIME

-“I’M A CAT, NOT A ROMANTIC”-

Skincare Saga (11:00 PM)

11-step routine (he gatekeeps) = a sacred ritual

applies serum with the precision of a heart surgeon

you mock him?

he retaliates by slapping a face mask on you

“Now who’s glowing?”

you catch him using your expensive eye cream

“It was… expiring”

LIES

next day, a new bottle appears in your bathroom

Bedtime (12:00 AM)

hogs the blanket

pulls you close so your icy feet press against his calves

“You’re like a yet” “A what?” “A yeti. But smaller.”

mumbles half-asleep

“Marry me? Oppa needs health insurance.”

you laugh

he pouts

“Joking. …Mostly.”

HIS LOVE LANGUAGE

-“DON’T MAKE ME SAY IT”-

ACTS OF SERVICE

-“DON’T THANK ME. JUST LIVE.”-

his love is a silent, relentless doing

he won’t write sonnets

he’ll rewrite your life to make it easier

Tech Savior

your laptop dies mid-deadline?

Yoongi confiscates it with a grunt

returns it 3 hours later with a new SSD

pirated Windows license (“Don’t ask”)

sticky note: “Backup your files, dumbass.”

you try to hug him?

he dodges

“It was boring. Needed a break from genius.”

then kisses your forehead

remembers your allergy meds better than you

“Take it. Now. I’m not nursing you through a sneezeocalypse.”

Protector Mode

at a party, a drunk acquaintance sneers:

“Your partner’s awfully quiet.” 

Yoongi steps between you

voice glacial

“And you’re awfully loud. Funny how that works.”

later, he drags you to a fair (not because he wants to be there but he knows you like it)

“Let’s drown out the idiots.”

wins you a mangled plushie and calls it “therapy”

Ultimate Gesture

you mention wanting to learn piano?

next day, a piano appears in the living room

“It was free."

LIES (you find the horredous receipt later)

when you play a shaky rendition of “Spring Day,” he records it secretly

uses it as ambient noise

PHYSICAL TOUCH

-“I’M NOT CUDDLY…FINE, I’M CUDDLY.”-

Yoongi’s touch is rare

it's mostly on his turns

tho deliberate, and electric

= a language he speaks only with you

Workaholic Affection

you find him slumped over his desk

forehead dented by MIDI keys

he doesn’t wake when you drape a blanket over him

but his hand snakes out to grip your wrist

“Five more minutes."

you sit cross-legged on the floor

his thumb brushing your pulse until his breathing evens

The Yoongi Glomp™

after a brutal week, you collapse on the couch

he wordlesssly flops on top of you

limbs splayed like a starfish

“Charging."

mutters into your neck

his weight is a lead blanket

but his fingers trace idle circles on your hip/back/side... everywhere

leans his full weight against you when tired

“You’re comfy. Don’t move.”

plays with your hair while brainstorming lyrics

“It helps… science.”

Public Exception

at a crowded event, you sway on your feet

Yoongi materializes beside you

palm pressed to the small of your back

“Eat something."

hisses, steering you toward the buffet

his hand stays anchored

pinky hooked in your belt loop

ARMYs later dissect the photo: “Why is Suga glaring at that samosa?!”

ROASTS AS LOVE LETTERS

-“YOU’RE LUCKY YOU’RE PRETTY.”-

Yoongi’s insults are love poems in disguise

= sharp, specific, and weirdly tender

Breakfast Roast

you burn toast

he sniffs

“Congrats. You’ve invented charcoal.”

he slathers it in butter and eats the whole thing

later, he buys a toaster oven “for humanitarian reasons”

Compliment War

you call him “cute”

he recoils

“I’m a wolf.”

next day, he texts: “Your face is… acceptable.” 

translates to: “You’re the moon, the stars, the...” 

nope.... he’d rather die than let you have evidence

Emergency Sarcasm

you cry during a movie

he freezes

“If you ruin my hoodie, I’m billing you.”

he pulls you into his lap and lets you stain his shirt

“Drama queen."

whispers, wiping your cheeks

QUALITY TIME

-“YOU’RE LESS ANNOYING THAN MY SYNTHS.”-

Yoongi’s version of romance: existing together, no performative fluff

Parallel Play

you read; he produces

hours pass in silence until he spins his chair around

“Listen to this.”

it’s a melody that mirrors the book’s climax

“Coincidence."

it’s not

Errand Partner

drags you to Home Depot for studio cables

you mock his obsession with “gold-plated connectors"

he retaliates by comparing your sneakers to “grandpa slippers”

you leave with cables, tulip bulbs (“For the vibe”), and matching keychains he “didn’t” buy

Midnight Musings

wakes you at 2 a.m.

eyes wild

“I figured out the bridge."

plays a track so raw it steals your breath

“Well?” he demands

you say nothing

just kiss him

he scowls

“Distracting me won’t work.”

it does

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

-“…SHUT UP.”-

Yoongi’s verbal love is a rare gem

buried under layers of grump

Accidental Confession

you help him translate English lyrics

stares at your scribbles

“You’re… not useless.”

high praise

Drunk Honesty

at a staff dinner, soju loosens his tongue

slurs into your ear

“Your brain’s sexy. Stop laughing.”

next morning, he claims amnesia

you have a voice memo

Ultimate Sacrifice

you overhear him ranting to Jungkook

“Of course I love them. They’re my… favorite person.”

when you barge in, he chokes

“You... heard nothing.”

but at the break, when alone, kisses you senseless

SECRETLY SOFT MOMENTS

"ACCIDENTAL" NAP CUDDLES

I think he acts like he hates being called cute

but after pulling three all-nighters in the studio, he’ll stumble home

collapse facedown on the couch

unconsciously drags you into a koala grip

when he wakes up, he’ll deny it

“You latched onto me”

he’ll grumble

even though his hoodie is still bunched in your fist and his cheek bears a crease from your shirt buttons

his phone buzzes with a studio alert

he silences it

tucks your hair behind your ear

“Five more minutes.”

falls back asleep

you count his eyelashes - he knows

"I SAW THIS AND THOUGHT OF YOU" GIFTS

they’re never wrapped

never labeled

just appear where you’ll find them

a limited-edition vinyl of your favorite indie band in your tote bag

single persimmon on your desk during a stressful week

“They were out of apples.”

drove 30 minutes to the farmer’s market

USB drive labeled “DO NOT OPEN” left on your pillow

it’s a playlist of piano covers he recorded of your favorite songs

RARE VERBAL VULNERABILITY

slips out when he’s half-asleep, tipsy, or distracted

Post-Concert Murmur

sweaty and buzzing from adrenaline

presses his forehead to yours

“You’re my… home base. Don’t tell anyone.”

Mid-Soba Slurp

“… glad you exist.”

stabs a dumpling

“Eat.”

After a Nightmare

shakes you awake

breathing ragged

“Stay. Here.”

doesn’t let go until sunrise

EMBARRASSINGLY EARNEST DANCE

he’ll swear he’s “rhythmically challenged."

after his first Grammy win, he slow-dances with you in the hotel hallway

humming off-key

“Don’t laugh. We're celebrating.”

catches you dancing to “SEXY NUKIM” while washing dishes

joins you with exaggerated shoulder rolls

“What? It’s exercise.”

"I NOTICED" MOMENTS

you mention loving a long-dead poet once

he hunts down their first edition book

leaves it on your nightstand with a note: “Page 42. You’ll get it.” 

it’s a poem about quiet love

remembers your childhood fear of thunderstorms

during a storm, he “accidentally” schedules a power outage movie marathon

“Coincidence. Guess we have to cuddle.”

UNEXPECTED PUBLIC DISPLAY

Yoongi hates PDA

but sometimes, when the world feels too heavy he does ot

links pinkies with you under the dinner table while arguing with Jin about kimchi recipes

at a red carpet event, he tugs your earring straight and lingers

thumb brushing your jaw

paparazzi photos trend for days

he refuses to explain

"CHILDHOOD YOONGI" GLIMPSES

shows you a photo of his 10-year-old self holding a toy keyboard

“I was… cooler then”

he wasn't

teaches you his hometown dialect

“Say ‘I’m hungry’ like a real Daegu kid.”

laughs so hard he snorts

lets you wear his pre debut scarf

“It’s vintage. Don’t ruin it.”

he secretly loves it

DEFENSIVE AFFECTION

you get sick

he buys every medicine in the pharmacy

arranges them by symptom

glares at your fever

catches a staff member teasing you

interrupts their meeting

“Apologize. Or I’ll release your karaoke footage.”

"YOU’RE MY PERSON" RITUALS

lets you pick his hair color

“Gray? I’ll look like a grandpa.”

does it anyway.

shares his headphones during flights

playing his unfinished demos

“Don’t fall asleep. Feedback.”

you do

he doesn’t mind

whispered truths in the dark

“I’d burn it all down for you. Don’t ask me to.”

[vergess]

Please, please explain how to install and use linux like I'm 5 years old. I'm so sick of windows adding AI and other bullshit to my already struggling elderly laptop but I'm really not good with computers at all so I have no idea where to start with Linux.

Okay, so, I'm going to break this down into steps I would give the average tumblr user first, and then if any of them are confusing or use words you don't understand, ask me and I'll explain that step in greater detail.

Step 0) BACK. UP. YOUR. SHIT.

NEVER EVER EVER CHANGE YOUR OPERATING SYSTEM WITHOUT A COMPLETE BACKUP OF ALL YOUR FILES.

Step 1) Learn your machine. You need to know:

How much RAM you have

If your processor is 32 or 64 bit

How big your hard drive is

On windows, you can find out all of this by going to the start menu, typing "about" and opening the first result on your system instead of the internet.

For additional instructions, visit this page.

Step 2) Pick your Linux.

There's like 10,000 kinds of Linux, each tailored to particular functions that the end-user (that is you!) might want to have. The sheer amount is very daunting, so first I'm going to give my suggestions, then I'll explain how to pick for yourself.

For Mac users, I suggest Kubuntu. For windows users, I suggest Mint Cinnamon. If your laptop is really REALLY old, I recommend Sparky Stable, which is the lightest weight Linux I would ever suggest for a new user. In every case, download the version suited to your processor (32 bit can be labelled "x86" or "32 bit"; 64 bit is always labelled "64 bit").

If you want to try a different type of linux, you'll need to make sure your laptop meets the "minimum specs" or "system requirements." These numbers tell you how much RAM, processor and hard drive space the linux will use. (That's why you needed those numbers at the beginning.)

Step 3) Collect your supplies. You're going to need:

An ISO burning program compatible with your current system, like Balena Etcher.

A copy of the ISO file for the Linux you want to use.

Your laptop.

An 8gb or larger USB flash drive.

Step 3) Make a bootable USB drive

Install Balena Etcher, hitting "okay" and "next" when prompted. Last I checked, Etcher doesn't have adware attached, so you can just hit next every time.

Plug your USB drive into the laptop.

Open Etcher.

Click "flash from file" and open the ISO file with your Linux on it.

Click "Select target" and open the USB drive location. Hit the "flash" button. This will start writing all the linux installer data to your flash drive. Depending on the speed of your machine, this could take as long as 10 minutes, but shouldn't be much longer.

Step 4) Boot to the USB drive

This is, in my opinion, the trickiest step for a lot of people who don't do "computer stuff." Fortunately, in a rare act of good will, Windows 10 made this process a lot easier.

All you'll need to do is go to settings, then recovery, then advanced startup and pick the button labelled "use a device."

This tutorial has images showing where each of those is located. It's considered an "advanced setting" so you may get a spooky popup warning you that you could "harm your system by making changes" but we're not doing anything potentially harmful so you can ignore that if you get it.

Step 5) Try out linux on the flash drive first.

Linux installs using a cool little test version of itself that you can play around in. You won't be able to make changes or save settings, but you can explore a bit and see if the interface is to your liking. If it's hideous or hard to navigate, simply pick a new linux version to download, and repeat the "make a bootable USB" step for it.

Step 6) Actually install that sucker

This step varies from version to version, but the first part should be the same across the board: on the desktop, there should be a shortcut that says something like "install now." Double click it.

Follow the instructions your specific linux version gives you. When in doubt, pick the default, with one exception:

If it asks you to encrypt your drive say no. That's a more advanced feature that can really fuck your shit up down the road if you don't know how to handle it.

At some point you're going to get a scary looking warning that says 1 of 2 things. Either:

Install Linux alongside Windows, or

Format harddrive to delete all data

That first option will let you do what is called "dual booting." From then on, your computer will ask every time you turn it on whether you want Windows or Linux.

The second option will nuke Windows from orbit, leaving only linux behind.

The install process is slower the larger your chosen version is, but I've never seen it take more than half an hour. During that time, most linux versions will have a little slideshow of the features and layout of common settings that you can read or ignore as you prefer.

Step 7) Boot to your sexy new Linux device.

If you're dual booting, use the arrow keys and enter key to select your linux version from the new boot menu, called GRUB.

If you've only got linux, turn the computer on as normal and linux will boot up immediately.

Bonus Step: Copy Pasting some code

In your new start menu, look for an application called "terminal" or "terminal emulator." Open that up, and you will be presented with an intense looking (but actually very harmless) text command area.

Now, open up your web browser (firefox comes pre-installed on most!), and search the phrase "what to do after installing [linux version you picked]"

You're looking for a website called "It's FOSS." Here's a link to their page on Mint. This site has lots and lots of snippets of little text commands you can experiment with to learn how that functionality works!

Or, if you don't want to fuck with the terminal at all (fair enough!) then instead of "terminal" look for something called "software manager."

This is sort of like an app store for linux; you can install all kinds of programs directly from there without needing to go to the website of the program itself!

[smallmariofindings]

Unused world select screen found in the files of New Super Mario Bros. Unlike the finished game's world selection, which uses static sprites, this screen treats the icons as objects in 3D space that can be moved and rotated in the manner shown in the footage.

Note also that the icons included in this screen depict early world themes that no longer match up with the finished game, such as a prehistoric world and a world labeled "machine" (represented by the steel orb).

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: Skawo

[purerae]

teehee first ask thing :3c

i work at a movie theater and it sucks, literally the only thing that keeps me going is pretending someone going to see movies just to interact with me. tbh whenever i scan someone ticket and they’re cute, i’ll try to be at their theater whenever the movie end just to tell them “have a nice day!”

do what you'll want with this, i just wanna share my delusions ^^

hihi omg this is so cute, i wrote a little something about it !!

(i wrote this at like four am on a googles doc and didn’t proof read — pls forgive me for the kinda lame writing ;;;)

You’re tired. Extremely tired. If you got a coin for how many times somebody had asked you a stupid question — you’d be able to quit your job by now.

The smell of popcorn and off brand candy lingers in the air; you feel sick to your stomach as you look at the clock. 3 more hours of your shift left, god, you close your eyes for a solid minute — imagining yourself in your nice warm bed away from all the noise, smell and buzzing food machines.

Fortunately, it seems as the flurry amount of people had dispersed after the screenings of the new trending movie had stopped at a certain time. You hum a sigh under your breath, the theater was almost empty, You prayed to whatever was listening to you that a group of teenagers wouldn’t just burst in and charge towards your counter.

You decide to pass off some time by restocking the candy shelves by your desk, grimacing at the overpriced labels when you suddenly hear a small cough.

Looking up, you notice a very familiar customer beaming at you with a big smile. Their eyes light up, and you can't help but change your tired expression to one that matches theirs.

“Hey! How’s your shift going Y/N?” The man smiles, fidgeting with his hands as he eagerly looks at you.

“Good as a shift can get Matteo, how’s your day going? This is the third time you came this week — Must’ really like movies.. new world record huh?”

You respond back, with no malice in your tone, exchanging banter with your favourite customer. He comes so often to the theatre, that you guys are already on first name basis.

Honestly, the only reason he was your favourite customer was because of how how nice and pleasant he was to chat too.

Matteo would arrive with a warm smile, always making a beeline for whichever counter you were working at. You guys would chat about the latest releases, obscure indie films, and laugh over the messiness of children running around.

You’d remember the first time he came into the movies with his friends, his eyes would linger on you every now and again whilst ordering — you never really paid any mind to it.

Matteo raises his eyebrows as you question him. “…Really like movies?” A pause between the two of you as you nod awkwardly, before his eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh yeah— yeah! I love movies hahaha…! Movies are great.. awesome, spectacular, so fun!!” He says laughing, wiping his eyebrow and grinning extremely wide.

Rapidly changing the subject, Matteo places one of his arms on the counter. “The movie you recommended to me two days ago was so funny! I loved it, anything new for me today?”

To be frank, you could not recall what movie you told him to watch, and you doubt you even watched it yourself! However, seeing the gleam in his face — you didn’t have the heart to tell him so.

You shift your head slightly to see behind Matteos head, the small list of movies that were going to play soon. Selecting the most cool sounding one, you look back at him.

“There’s a movie called ‘Argan Gate’ that came out recently in theatre 3?”

His smile becomes even more radiant (which you didn’t know could be possible) as he looks through his bag, “Sounds perfect! I’ll take a ticket!”

Matteo hands you his money, your fingers brushed slightly, The man freezes as he just stares at your hands for a solid few seconds before zoning back in with flushed cheeks.

“…I’ll tell you how the movie was after, see you at your next shift?” He says with a flustered look. You mutter a small okay with a wave as he walks to the movie screening.

You wonder for a second on how he’d know when your next shift is, and why he watches every single thing you recommend him. Pausing as you stare at his back with a narrowed gaze before you shrug your shoulders, going back to restocking the shelves

‘He must just really really love movies.’

[beardedmrbean]

Michaels is hoping to sew up the business of fans who frequented the fabric and craft chain Joann, which has folded all of its stores after filing for bankruptcy.

Michaels has acquired Joann's intellectual property and private label brands – including the Big Twist brands – the craft retailer announced Thursday, June 5.

Michaels will expand its fabric, sewing, and yarn assortment by adding more than 600 products including Brother and Singer sewing machines, Oliso Smart Irons and needle crafting kits from DMC and Loops & Threads.

"This acquisition allows us to better serve both new and existing customers, respond to rising demand across categories, and build on our momentum as the destination for creating and celebrating in North America," said Michaels CEO David Boone in a press release.

Michaels unfolds bigger move into fabrics: What customers can expect

The Joann's acquisition meshes with Michaels' evolving consumer interests. Over the past year, more customers have been searching on Michaels.com for "fabric" and "sewing," according to the company's announcement.

Recently, Michaels has increased the fabric assortment in more than 680 of its stores and plans to do so in 280 additional stores this year, the company said. This month, the retailer, which has more than 1,300 stores in 49 states and Canada, is also expanding its sewing supplies.

Also growing: Michaels' yarn assortment – set to increase by 25% this year to meet shoppers' demands. Starting this month, Michaels will begin offering 60 new Loops & Threads yarns in stores and online. This summer, yarn collections from Bernat, Lion Brand and Red Heart will be available.

Products from Joann brands such as Big Twist Value Plus, Big Twist Twinkle, Big Twist Posh and Big Twist Baby Bear will be available in-stores and online later this year, according to the company.

Joann, which had operated about 800 stores, began closing them after filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in January 2025, its second bankruptcy filing in less than a year.

Michaels, which began wooing Joann customers in early May, has also created a dedicated landing page for those shoppers to make it easier for them to find products and know the latest updates.

"We're honored to have the opportunity to welcome Joann customers into our creative community and are committed to delivering the selection, value, and inspiration they are looking for at Michaels," Boone said in a statement.

[doctorwilliamcorbin]

[Corbin stares at the screen, eyes wide as the computer freezes. Glancing to the laptop beside it to see it’s in the same position.]

[He stared speechless as the voice grated on his ears before he growled and gave a swift punch to the computer screen, not causing enough damage to destroy it, but just enough to crack the screen of the old thing.]

Damned. Machines.

[Corbin snapped, unplugging the laptop from its outlet on the wall, shutting it off as the message finally stopped looping. The computers speakers broken from his hit to it.]

[Huffing softly for a moment, Corbin inhaled deeply before exhaling. A smile forming with wicked eyes.]

[He stared at the little figure, narrowing his mismatched eyes. Skin, not his own, wrinkling slightly with his furrowed brows.]

… you pests will regret EVER finding him. Ever loving him…

I’ll show you just how much of a danger he is to himself and his “family”.

[The doctor snarled, walking back to the broken computer and giving it a hard reboot. Once the message was cleared and the virus taken care of, he opened a few files, a few lines of awfully familiar coding…]

[Scanning through them, he stopped on one labeled “Sirius.Star.Override: Protection.” And double clicked it.]

Are you sure? Starting this action may override current active code and cause fatal harm to surrounding persons. Please clear the area before selecting “Yes”.

[ ] Yes. [ ] No.

…

[✔️] Yes. [ ] No.

Starting “Sirius.Star.Override: Protection.”. . .

Please stand back from the animatronic.

Please stand back from the animatronic.

Please sta—

[Corbin smiled at the cracked screen of his. Humming quietly. He knew it’d take a few hours before anything happened… oh, but when it did… hopefully nothing of… importance… was around.]

[elexuscal]

An Educational Experience

A ficlet prompt by Gamebird [for some reason tumblr will not let me @ you directly, sorry]: Three is very intimidated by ART, but it somehow gets to the point where it can ask it about educational modules. How did that conversation play out?

======

"Perihelion?"

Yes?

I had prepared what I was going say. Preparation was wise in unfamiliar situations. Yet despite my preparation, I did not speak. Somehow could not. Wished that my buffer could offer an appropriate response.

0.5 seconds passed. 1 seconds. 2 seconds. 3 seconds.

If my governor module were still active, it would have demanded a response.

The Perihelion is not a governor module. It is nearly as unforgiving as one. (Nearly.) I brace for the demand to continue speaking, but it does not come.

After 9.8 seconds, I say, "I am not prepared to operate as a free agent."

No, it agrees.

Muscles in my back move reflexively. I unclench them. Perhaps communicating via the feed will be easier. My modules lack protocols for existing outside the context of Barish-Estranza. It would be helpful if there were alternative protocols I could utilize instead.

I can provide you with my own crew's standard operating procedures.

That would be helpful, thank you. I had found that statements of gratitude were still advisable, even without governor module compulsion to be respectful to (most) clients. It seemed even more prudent considering what I was going to ask next. If there were any other documents similar to HelpMe.file, that would also be useful.

I am afraid that we are rather lacking in other personnel memoirs from rogue SecUnits.

Sarcasm is a common communication device, which I have seen hundreds if not thousands of humans use. In Perihelion's case, it seems to compose of approximately 70% of its communication strategy.

I am aware of that. (I attempt to keep any frustration or other negative emotions I may be feeling out of the feed; I almost certainly fail.) I seek other informational texts and documents to supplement my educational modules.

Perihelion's feed shifts with a new emotion; excitement, perhaps, or interest. Something like this?

Suddenly I am staring at The Perihelion's full media library. No, not full, I realise after a moment of reflection; this is a curated selection. Documentary films and serials, audio-explainers, academic texts, and other books, all labelled #Educational.

They hold potential answers to all my questions.

If I could find them. With over 17,000 items, I do not know where to begin. I do not know how to even begin constructing a query.

"Thank you, Perihelion," I say. "On further consideration, I will begin by reading your crew's operational procedures."

Wait, Perihelion says, and then 0.07 seconds later, please. Apparently it is capable of using courtesy terms, if it wants to. That was too much selection. Try this. The media library refreshes. Now there are only three options; all mid-length educational serials. Do any of these interest you?

The three titles listed, including their summaries, are:

Building Ourselves Up From dams to space-stations, farms to terraforming facilities, how do engineers build the machines that keep society ticking?

Seeking The Final Horizon For millennia before we ever left our birth planet, humanity marvelled up at space. Take a tour of the cosmos, exploring moons, stars, black holes, nebulae, and more.

Suds! The Dirt On Soap Water, fat, and ash. That sounds gross, but we rub it over our bodies every day. Learn about the many ways soap is made and used across the universe.

I consider. They are all so different. How could I choose?

But I must. There are only three of them. It is a reasonable request.

The first documentary, on infrastructure, is clearly the one most related to our current situation. We-- by which I meant, the crews of The Perihelion and the Preservation ship Safe Harbour-- are assisting the humans in rebuilding their infrastructure. But judging from the demo footage next to the documentary's description, this serial was composed to many shots of coordinators, tunnels, and walls.

I had seen a great deal of corridors, tunnels, and walls since initial deployment.

In comparison, the soap documentary intrigued me a great deal. I like soap. Or I like The Perihelion's soap. It did not sting on the skin, but felt gentle and soothing. It came in a variety of shapes and colors and textures. Every time I showered, there was a new option to try. But this was such an unimportant thing to learn about.

Finally, there was the space documentary. I had some basic knowledge regarding space science, but nothing more. I could see how this knowledge could be relevant. And The Perihelion was a deep-space research vessel. It would most likely be pleased if I selected that option. In fact, perhaps, as I thought of it, the choice may have been a test to see if I would make the correct selection.

"Seeking the Final Horizon, please."

Did you only pick that one because that was the one you thought I'd like?

I do not answer. I had not wanted to lie outright. I realise belatedly that my silence may as well be as good as a confession.

You can select something else if you prefer.

I do not know if I would like to. I already decided. Surely that is sufficient?

Never mind, the transport says, indulgently. You can watch the others afterwards, if you are still interested.

The documentary begins playing. I sit down on the soft bunk. Because there is nothing gained from standing up now, and because I can. I watch the first two episodes. They total to 85 minutes.

I had known before that space was vast. I had known that large objects exerted a gravitational pull. I had know that same gravitation pull created worm holes. I knew that wormholes were necessary for faster-than-light travel between systems. I had known all of that, yet this documentary weaves it all together, so that it is no longer disparate facts, but a single cohesive explanation.

I had not known that space could be so beautiful.

[skylermadness]

Snack Shenanigans [A Side] (Scott Howl TF/TG/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: October 27, 2023)

Wow, it's been about a year since the last time I wrote an FtM TF/TG and so far both FtMs I've written back to back are into werewolf characters. I've been itching to write out another Scott Howl FtM for a while now so I decided to finally get off my butt and actually write one! I'm trying to go back to more simplistic plots and such so the set-up and such is a bit short but I don't mind it. I'm just glad to provide more jock character FtMs in the world. It's a fun little subgenre that there just isn't enough of! On a more interesting note, this is the first time I managed to complete a second self-imposed challenge on myself: giving a story an alt! This was an idea that I thought worked for multiple characters and decided why not reuse it for an alternative version of the story into a different story! If you want to read it (which is a TF into the character Gunzo from Tokyo Afterschool Summoners). That'll be uploaded later this week.

   One of the more prominent constants when it came to Madison's daily trips to her college campus were her visits to the cafeteria vending machines. And more often than not whenever she did she would typically buy the exact same thing from the machine’s array of snack foods. Most of her freshman year in college was spent buying out the machine’s mini-sandwich cookie stock, but she eventually grew tired of those and switched over to either chips or chocolate bars depending on her mood that week. With all things considered her trips to the vending machine were short, simplistic, and unchanging.

   That was until today anyway. Madison found herself staring through the machine’s glass in curiosity, her eyes instantly scrutinizing a change in the machine’s selection. Usually the item labeled 206 was some random bag of chips whose brand she didn’t care to memorize since it wasn’t the kind she ordered. However she knew that what occupied that label wasn’t the brand she didn’t remember. Rather it seemed to be something new and unfamiliar to the woman.

   The bag was simply labeled Scott Snacks with a fairly simple graphic of a bunch of potato chips with what she presumed to be the bag’s mascot (a thick bearded and fluffy haired man) giving a thumbs up. On one hand, the bag did look fairly generic. Then again most chip bags have that feel so it didn’t fully matter to Madison. She couldn’t really discern any other details from the bag such as flavor, but at the same time the graphic gave the vibe of either something plain or something cheesy. Neither prospects were ones she was against, especially since in the end all of this was just an excuse for her to deaden her appetite for the remainder of her classes. 

   With her mind made up Madison made the order with the vending machine. A satisfying thunk could be heard as the bag was pushed forward off the conveyor and into the machine’s pick-up box. She always despised when things got stuck in the vending machine, it was always a slightly embarrassing hassle…

   Successfully retrieving her snack, she idly placed it into her backpack before hauling it onto her back and making her way out of the cafeteria. Madison disliked eating around other people she was unfamiliar with, the woman much rather preferring to find a nice quiet seat on one of the hallway benches and eating whatever she retrieved there. A short trek and a turn would lead her to her favorite spot of solitude (barring the occasional person who would walk out the elevator beside the bench). Placing her backpack beside her as she took a seat she removed the bag of unfamiliar chips from its confines and opened it. Casually she leaned her back against the wall behind her, finally opening the bag of chips and taking one out.

   Considering the unfamiliarity of the situation, Madison had deemed it necessary to eye up the singular chip for a good few seconds. Standard looking potato chip, orange dust that denotes a cheese flavor, some flecks of salt. Although as these exact terms roamed through her head she realized that she somehow sounded like some kind of chip elitist. So in the end she just disregarded her concerns and placed the chip in her mouth.

   …yup, very cheesy. Even has a bit of a meaty aftertaste as well. It wasn’t actually that bad. Perhaps this was a sign she could add a third snack into her vending machine rotation!

   With those thoughts in her mind Madison continued eating, the woman blissfully unaware of the changes starting to form on her body as she did. It was rather isolated at first. The fingers on both hands slowly got thicker, ends and nails getting more blunt with each passing second. This evidently continued as her fingers continued to grow in thickness with a similar shift in size quickly jumping to the hands themselves. A firm meatiness steadily accumulating within each hand; larger, bulkier, seemingly more powerful in appearance.

   That wasn’t the weirdest part of this transformation however. That came when something coarse started to poke out of the back of her hand. It was short at first with what looked to be follicles only millimeters in length, but it didn’t take long for them to grow out and quickly overtake the backs of each hand. What had rapidly sprouted from each hand were large amounts of dark brown hairs. This new development practically gives a more defined masculine feel to her already larger and almost blockier hands.

   Evidently this supposedly masc appearance was one that would quickly spread beyond her wrists and beneath the sleeves of her sweater. Her musculature was the first that began to get affected. A mild heat surged through them as a steady thickness slowly burgeoned within each arm. Raw strength building up in each limb and filling their once slender appearance with a now dense and much more powerful look to them. It wasn't long until the sleeves of her sweater began filling out and the outlines of her muscles etched into the fabric.

   The warmth in Madison's arms only grew more prominent as well with the hairiness of her hands quickly trailing up to her forearms. Heavy amounts of brown hairs coating their way across the back of each arm, the density of this forest of almost fur-like hairs getting more and more thick the closer it got towards her elbows. This steady increase in arm hair density would soon result in a thick tuft of arm hair that practically spiked out of each forearm. Unfortunately for the time being it would seem this major growth would remain hidden in her sleeves.

   Less dense, albeit still very prominent, arm hair growth continued as it made its way to her upper arms and shoulders to coat the outer sections of them with ease. It was also by now that some of the more major muscle groups had gotten their almost instant workout with her biceps having bulked up alongside her triceps. The broadness of Madison's shoulders increased drastically as the deltoid muscles developed and rounded out even more. By this point the almost fragile seaming of her sweater began to break, tears forming against the new brawniness of her arms and revealing bits of her new coat of hair.

   The sudden sounds of tearing finally alerted her to the changes, Madison placing the chip she was holding in her mouth before inspecting the source of the sound. Her eyes widened. "Wh-huh…? What happened to my arm?? And is that… hair…?"

   Her gaze trailed downwards, the woman inspecting one arm up until she laid eyes on her hands. "How long have they been like that!?"

   A part of her wanted to panic but something about the sight was just intriguing. She held a changed hand up in front of her, looking at the thickness and hairiness of it all. It was a little uncanny, especially with all the chip dust, but it looked firm. Strong.

   While Madison preoccupied with staring at her hand the changes in her physical form only continued. It didn't take long for everything to move beyond her shoulders. The two waves of transformation quickly crashed into each other at the midline of her chest and from there expanded even more across the woman's body. 

   The overall width of Madison's frame was probably the next thing to start changing, her form broadening out and shifting to dispel her usually skinny figure more. This type of change got more prominent as her chest became the next part of her body to get altered. While the hair continued its spread and coating her chest, the fatty tissue of her breasts began to melt off and slowly flatten them. As it did so the muscles beneath them began to grow, swelling out rapidly to the point it would almost appear that her breasts hardened into thick meaty slabs of pectorals. These newly developed muscles would quickly grow to fill up the upper portion of her sweater, her now more masculine cleavage denting into the fabric.

   The lower half of her body followed not long after as it too was changing. Her abdomen churned, bubbling almost as abdominal muscles steadily rose from her skin. They slotted out almost sequentially with row after row extending out until she had been granted a six-pack set of abs. All the while the hair that had coated her chest was cascading downwards, the coarse brown fuzz rapidly consuming her abdominal region. By this point the frontal portion of her body just looked like it had a darker shade than the back due to all this hair. And as the hair trailed to the sides she could feel her oblique muscles begin to burn a bit, alongside some cramping inside her that took her focus off her hands so she could use them to support her abdomen as she bent forward in mild pain.

   "A-agh-" she winced, the sound of her voice seeming to crack only momentarily playing in her ears. She started to realize just how tight her shirt was getting, and she presumed it wouldn't be long until everything else would change to fit whatever form she was taking. A light haze was also entering her mind, thoughts steadily becoming a little bit harder as all these changes were overtaking her form. Curiosity faded to confusion, and that confusion quickly jumped to worry as she was still conscious enough to realize she didn't want to rip out of her shirt in a public hallway.

   Madison ultimately decided to forgo her backpack and the rest of the chips to her side, then lifted herself up from the bench and hastily made her way around the hallway's corner in order to head into the nearest bathroom. Luckily it was unoccupied, so she just rushed in there and locked the door before heading to the mirror. Although it would seem she didn't notice that she had subconsciously rushed into the men's room…

   Staring at herself in the mirror she came to the slow realization of just how large she had become. Not just in width but also in height as she evidently looked a little taller, especially with the hem of her sweater rising up her body. That and the slightly prominent feel of decompression in the woman's spine that seemed to grow more and more. Then there was this building pressure at the base of her spine that only continued to grow in prominence the more she continued to stare in the mirror. That coupled with the sight of more hair growing up her neck and beneath her jaw all made for this experience to feel even more surreal than it did prior.

   Madison raised her head a bit and scratched the scruff on her neck. "A-ahh…" she let out a light breath. It felt a little good to finally scratch that fuzz after all this time. It helped clear her brain up just a bit, but it inevitably filled back up with fog. All she could do was stare at herself in the mirror and scratch herself, her only statement being, "Just… what is happening to me?" She asked that with a smile however. There just felt like nothing to distress over. Not the weird muscular form she had, or the increase in hairiness, or the fact her voice continued to shift to a point that sounded deeper and more laid-back. 

   She didn't even feel the need to worry over hearing the back of her pants suddenly split open, a tail with thick brown fur seeming to have almost instantly elongated from her spine's tailbone and freed itself from the confines of her legwear. All she did was look behind her as something in her brain seemed to click with the new appendage. She curled it up towards her and gently grabbed it with her free hand. All the while a goofy grin had formed on her face. "I have a tail now!? Cool!"

   All during this sequence of events, the changes were also making their progression down to Madison's legs. This section of the transformation mirrored that of her arms, muscle mass easily packing into both sections of her legs with a quick pacing. Thighs grew thicker with bulkier hamstrings and quadriceps, and she could feel a surge of heat flare up in her calves as they bloated up with muscle mass as well. Her height continued to increase as well, and the brown hairs rapidly rushed downwards to encompass the surface area of her legs. All of this combined contributed to her jeans feeling severely more constricted, a few tears forming in the sides as a result.

   What followed were the changes in her feet. While hair emerged from the bridge of her feet, the overall size of them steadily increased in all directions. They got wider, pushing up against the sides of her shoes easily. And they got longer, heels digging into the back of her footwear while her toes pressed up against the front. It wouldn't take very long for them to grow to a fitting proportion for her new body, their appearance having quickly altered to fit the more rugged and masculine look that Madison now was possessing. It resulted in her shoes having immense trouble containing her larger feet with a couple rips already forming across the sides.

   The last person of her physical form that remained unchanged was her face, but as Madison started to see and feel the soft pricks of hair poking out her skin she knew that wasn't going to last long. 

   "B-bro!" she casually yelled out to no one in particular, her voice now settling into that aforementioned laid-back and male cadence that had been etching into it this whole time. "Guess I'll be getting a beard next! Might as well start considering myself a guy at this point!"

   The very thought of that was appealing to him. If anything, it felt like the always correct assumption. For some reason something about this new form felt so good and so much more correct now! It was as if it should have always been him!

   He continued to stare into the mirror, a look of enjoyment on his face as he saw the brown fuzz continuing to grow out his chin. This fuzz grew thicker and thicker, and it's spread expanded across his jawline rapidly. From the middle, trailing up his sides, slowly connecting to the slight sideburns he possessed. As his beard got more dense and bushy it gained an almost spiky styling as well. All the while his jawline shifted beneath it, broadening and chiseling out into a more square shape.

   If anything it would seem Madison's entire face shifted to gain a more masculine appearance. Skull widening for a broader structure, nose enlarging slightly, a certain level of toughness formulating across his skin. Bits of his beard even poked out from his jawline and onto his face in order to grow on a small portion of his cheeks. There even came a set of even stranger changes to his head's physicality such as his ears lengthening and sharpening to a point, or the hairs on his eyebrows increasing in amount drastically to gain a similar level of spiked bushiness that his beard possessed. There had also seemed to be a level of sharpness entering much of his teeth as well.

   All while these changes occurred, his hair was in the process of shifting and restyling to fit his new body. It had already begun to shorten as his beard was beginning to grow, and it continued to do so as his beard got more prominent and his face continued to change. Slowly it went up from being shoulder length to trailing up the nape of his neck to being of equal length with his chin, and it still got shorter as time continued. All the while the waviness of it was straightened, and the dark blonde coloration was deepened to the same brown as the rest of his body and facial hair. By the time his hair got to what the transformation seemed as an acceptable length, its density seemed to shift into something fur-like before bits of it fluffed and stuck out into a thick and messy spiky style. One that he just couldn't resist running a hand through to just feel the fluffiness of his hair.

   "This is so cool, dude…" he said, watching his hair spike back up after getting run through by his hand. And the man only continued to poke and prod at bits of his body by scratching his beard, scritching himself behind his ear, and giving his muscles some good flexes. He even couldn't help from tearing open his sweater from the front to let his pecs and abs breathe. Everything about this body felt so new, but at the same time the cloud in his mind was making it seem so familiar as well.

   Shouldn't this be his body? Why was it so hard to even recall what his other body was like? Did he even have another body? If this body is so familiar it just must be his, right?!

   He could feel his eyes beginning to drift to the side in confusion. "Ooh, too many questions in my brain! Is this what happens when you think too much…"

   For some reason he really felt like he wasn't used to using his brain for extended periods of time. If he were to be honest everything about it just felt drained! Like so many aspects has been dulled down or simplified in himself. All of this was making the concept of having an identity prior to this one feel so fleeting and incorrect. He just wanted to completely disregard it as too complicated. A lot of things just felt complicated at this point.

   He braced himself on the bathroom sink, mind in complete confusion to the point he wasn't keeping track of what was going on with his clothing. His attire had seemed to finally start to shift.The sleeves of his sweater slowly lifted upwards to unveil the dense fluff of his forearms, the rips all sealed themselves while the tear he made down the middle of his shirt restitched itself to look like it was meant to be there. The coloration of the sleeves bleached to white while the wrists shifted to red, meanwhile the actual body of the sweater shifted to the same shade of red. Buttons and eyelets lined the split while a small white and red-striped collar raised from the neck. With the formation of pockets on each side of the newly shifted clothing, it seemed his sweater had altered into a varsity jacket. Meanwhile a plain white t-shirt materialized beneath it and around his body, its size being just baggy enough to still reveal the upper portion of his chest.

   Following this came the less impressive changes in his legwear and footwear. His jeans just grew a bit to better fit his legs while repairing themselves. The tear in the back also restitched to look intentional, seemingly becoming a hole for his tail that went beneath the belt loop. His shoes did go through a bit more drastic of a change, also growing and repairing while the sides brightened to a red and the soles and front became white. The cloth toughened up as the strings became straps, fully shifting his footwear into a pair of athletic sneakers. 

   The man's thoughts continued to simplify as his earlier concerns were constantly drained away. Thoughts of a former identity and life disappearing, the rising worries about them being dispelled as he couldn't even remember what he had to be worried about! All that mattered was football and hanging out with his bros after all! Nothing to worry about from that!

   It was also by this point that his identity fully solidified. Scott Howl!

   Wait, is he telling himself to howl?

   "AWWROOOOOOOOO!!!" he howled out, the sound echoing through the small one-person bathroom. Once it was all let out he opened his eyes, a nice royal blue having embedded within them.

   "Oh wait, I was just thinking about my last name!"

   One of Scott's ears flicked as he heard someone knock on the bathroom door. "Uhhh, I'm taking it this is occupied?"

   The werewolf made his way to the entrance and opened it. "Was just finishing up with… whatever I was doing!"

   The comment made the guy who was on the other side of the bathroom door somewhat confused, but between that and the fact they were facing a large hairy man with a tail this whole situation was already feeling weird. "What were you doing… howling??"

   Scott just smiled and ruffled the other man's hair. "Sometimes you just have to let one out, y'know?" He then moved past them and made his leave. The random man just watched him leave, both unaware that the burly football player's interaction with him had left an almost pitch black stain in the follicles of the man's hair that very slowly spread across it. But they just shook their head and walked into the bathroom, deciding to just disregard the strange interaction.

   Meanwhile, Scott made his way down the hall before his heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of something… cheesy? Meaty? His head turned to find a bag of chips labeled Scott Snacks beside a backpack on top of a bench. For some reason his brain registered both as his own.

   "Oh, can't forget about these!" He walked over to the bench and hauled up the backpack to his back before picking up the bag of chips. Popping one in his mouth he comments, "This'll make a great snack before practice!" before going about his day…

[xenodile]

Honestly, I don't think I can that it's just some character, I would say that fighting against transmisogyny and its effects on society is an integral part of Nikke's story on a fundamental level.

The story is, at its core, about a demographic women who are othered, discriminated, hated, and objectified just because of who they are. A point is made that only women make up this group. They are simultaneously expected to perform femininity and masculinity, yet their efforts are not recognized, ignored, or attributed to others. Most of them are immediately "clockable" for what they are, with only a select few able to "pass" as "real" humans. Society at large views them both repulsive and disgusting, but also as sex objects that exist to be used.

The women in this othered group are treated as machines, objects, and tools, yet are undeniably still human beings with all the same feelings and needs. Their lives are colored and varied, but have one thing in common, they were all someone else before becoming the person they are now. Their accounts and feelings about this vary, from seeing their "old self" as an extension of who they are now, recounting the exact moment they made the decision to be the woman they are now and are happy and proud of themselves for it, to seeing whoever they were before as a stranger, someone depressed and suicidal before she finally found purpose and pride after "the change". Others don't bother remembering their past, the person they used to be simply not mattering because who they are now, the name they use now, that is what matters.

These women are viewed as disposable, and their independence and rights are seen as inherently violent. Systems are in place to force them into obedience and compliance, and society at large sees any threat to those systems as impending doom. The state labels anyone that advocates for the rights of these othered women as a criminal.

The main character of the story is a man who sees what is happening to these women and is so horrified by it that he devotes his entire being to fighting for their rights and trying to support them, to the point that he's willing to dehumanize and sacrifice himself if it means even one of them can be happy, and one of the protagonists' main goals is to overturn the government and reform society so that these women will not be subject to this objectification and discrimination. Also he gets force femmed, instant lossed, pegged, beat up for being a "robot fucker", dom'd by lesbians, roofied, and much more.

And then we go into the individual character stories, some of which are very bluntly and transparently allegories for real life issues faced by transwomen. The ShiftUp writing team either has transwomen in it, or have a lot of transfem friends.