#and to be fair it is a combination of three projects

[lazywitchling]

“Jes, what do you have?”

A NEW PROJECT!!!

“NOOO!!!”

[enhaflixer]

campus crush!sunghoon x f!reader

stats class. keep ur glasses on when u fuck me. statistical analysis with ur tongue. thats abt it. sunghoon word porn ngl ENHA HARD HOURS (kinda) 18+ MDNI

-

You're late. Again.

The digital clock on your phone reads 3:10 PM as you sprint across campus, your backpack bouncing against your spine with each step. Statistics seminar started ten minutes ago, and Professor Clarke has definitely noticed your absence by now. Not that it's unusual—you've made it a habit to burst through those doors at exactly ten minutes past, a whirlwind of apologies and bright smiles.

"Sorry, sorry!" you announce as you push open the computer lab door, slightly out of breath.

Twenty pairs of eyes swivel toward you, but Professor Clarke doesn't even look up from his laptop at the front of the room.

"How kind of you to join us," he says dryly. "We were just assigning semester project partners."

You flash him your most charming smile as you slide into an empty seat. "Perfect timing then."

A few people laugh. You've mastered the art of diffusing tension with humor, of making your tardiness seem like a quirky character trait rather than a genuine inability to manage time. It's gotten you this far in university.

"As I was saying," Professor Clarke continues, "this statistical analysis project will count for forty percent of your grade. You and your assigned partner will select a dataset, develop a hypothesis, and use STATA to analyze your findings." He gestures to the complex statistical software displayed on the projector screen—the same software that has been giving you nightmares since week one.

You glance around the room, hoping you'll be paired with Olivia or Zara—friends who wouldn't mind carrying the team if necessary. But when Professor Clarke reads off, "Sunghoon Park and..." followed by your name, your heart does something unexpected.

It skips.

You've noticed him before—it's hard not to. He always sits in the same spot three rows from the front, always arrives fifteen minutes early, always has his notebook open at the exact moment class begins.

What you haven't fully appreciated until now, as you turn to locate him in the room, is just how devastatingly handsome he is. His dark eyes find yours immediately behind stylish wire-rimmed glasses that give him an irresistible intellectual appeal. One corner of his perfectly shaped mouth lifts in the smallest acknowledgment, and a strand of black hair falls across his forehead when he nods at you. The combination of his reserved demeanor and model-worthy looks creates an effect that makes your stomach flip. He's the definition of a hot nerd—the kind that makes you temporarily forget about statistical analysis altogether and wonder what he'd look like with those glasses slightly askew, his usually perfect hair disheveled.

After partnering announcements finish, Professor Clarke instructs everyone to move next to their assigned partners to discuss project ideas.

You gather your things and make your way to Sunghoon's station, dropping into the chair beside him with dramatic flair.

"Fair warning," you say brightly, "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with this software. Like, none. Zero. Statistical analysis to me is deciding which café has the shortest queue."

You expect a sigh or a look of disappointment—it's what most serious students do when they realize they've been paired with you. Instead, Sunghoon's expression softens.

"It's okay," he says quietly, his voice carrying just a hint of an accent. "I'm... not an expert either."

"But you always look so focused during class," you say, gesturing to his immaculate notes.

He shrugs, the movement slight and controlled. "I write everything down. Doesn't mean I understand it all."

When he opens the STATA program and navigates through a few screens with apparent ease, you lean closer.

"Okay, so you're being modest. You definitely know more than I do."

"Barely," he admits, and you catch the faintest hint of a smile—not the polite one from before, but something genuine that makes you want to see it again. "I just know how to make it look like I know what I'm doing."

"That's an important life skill," you laugh, pulling your chair closer to see his screen better. "So what kind of data are we analyzing? Please say something fun like ice cream consumption versus happiness levels."

Sunghoon doesn't laugh, but his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners. "Actually," he says, "we can choose almost anything that interests us."

You bump his shoulder lightly with yours. "See? We're going to be great partners. I bring the wild ideas, you bring the common sense."

"Is that what they call it?" he asks, and there's a hint of playfulness in his voice that catches you off guard.

"What would you call it?" you challenge.

He considers for a moment, adjusting his glasses with a single finger pushed against the bridge. The gesture shouldn't be as attractive as it is. "Survival instinct."

You laugh, genuinely surprised. "So I'm dangerous?"

"No," he says, turning slightly to face you better. "Statistical software is dangerous. You're..." he pauses, seeming to search for the right word, "unpredictable."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one." The quiet confidence in his voice sends a small thrill through you.

Professor Clarke clears his throat at the front of the room. "I expect project proposals by the end of next week. Choose your dataset carefully—it will determine the scope of your entire project."

You glance at the clock. Only fifteen minutes of class remain.

"So, partner," you say, lowering your voice as Professor Clarke continues, "when should we meet to figure this out? I promise I'll try not to be ten minutes late."

Sunghoon's mouth quirks up at one corner. "Would you actually show up if I said 8 AM at the library?"

"Now you're just testing me," you whisper back.

"Coffee shop after class on Thursday?" he suggests instead, his voice equally quiet. "The one behind the science building?"

"Beans & Books? You've got good taste." You nod approvingly. "I practically live there between classes."

"I know," he says, then immediately looks as if he wishes he could take it back.

"You know?" You raise an eyebrow, intrigued and slightly pleased.

A faint color appears high on his cheekbones. "I've seen you there. You always order something different and then type furiously on your laptop."

The fact that he's noticed you before, observed your habits even, gives you a little flutter of satisfaction. "And what do you order, Sunghoon Park? Let me guess—plain black coffee, no sugar."

His eyebrows lift slightly. "Close. Earl Grey tea."

"Of course," you nod sagely. "Sophisticated."

When class ends, you gather your things slowly, suddenly reluctant to leave. Sunghoon stands, slinging his messenger bag across his chest in one smooth motion.

"Thursday, then," he says, as if confirming an important business meeting.

"It's a date," you reply with deliberate casualness, watching his reaction.

His expression remains mostly neutral, but you don't miss the quick blink, the slight pause before he nods. "For statistics," he clarifies, but the slight upturn of his lips betrays him.

"For statistics," you agree solemnly, though you're already wondering what other subjects you might explore together.

The coffee shop meeting goes surprisingly well. What you expected to be an hour of awkward dataset discussions turns into three hours of conversation that meanders far beyond statistics. Sunghoon, it turns out, has layers beneath his reserved exterior—he plays piano, reads philosophy for fun, and has a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard and makes you laugh harder than you have in weeks.

By the end of the evening, you've not only selected your dataset (coffee consumption versus academic performance—your suggestion, which he surprisingly agreed to), but you've also learned that his stammer appears when he's either nervous or passionate about a topic. You find both instances equally endearing.

When Friday's class rolls around, something shifts. You arrive only five minutes late (progress), and the space beside Sunghoon, which is usually empty, now seems to be waiting for you. You slide into the seat and he glances up from his notebook, the corner of his mouth lifting in that subtle way that's becoming familiar.

"You're almost on time," he says quietly, amusement in his eyes.

"Don't get used to it," you reply, but there's no bite to your words.

Throughout the class, your awareness of him is heightened—the way his brow furrows when he's concentrating, how his fingers tap thoughtfully against the desk when Professor Clarke asks a difficult question, the scent of his cologne when he leans closer to point something out on your screen.

After class, you find yourself hesitating as you pack up your things, watching as he meticulously organizes his notes.

"So," you begin, aiming for casual, "I was thinking... we should probably meet again this weekend to work on the project." You pause. "My roommate's gone for the weekend. We could use my dorm? Fewer distractions than the coffee shop."

Sunghoon looks up, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nods. "That would be... efficient."

You laugh at his choice of words. "Very statistical of you."

"I meant—" he starts, a hint of that stammer appearing.

"I know what you meant," you interrupt, grinning. "Saturday at four?"

He nods, adjusting his glasses. "I'll bring the data analysis. You bring the coffee."

"Deal."

Saturday arrives, and for the first time in your university career, you spend thirty minutes tidying your room before a study session. You tell yourself it's just basic courtesy, not because you care what Sunghoon thinks of your living space.

At precisely four o'clock, there's a knock at your door. Punctual as always.

You open it to find Sunghoon standing there in jeans and a simple button-down shirt, his laptop bag slung across his body. He's swapped his usual wire-frames for slightly thicker black glasses that somehow make him look even more attractive—scholarly but with an edge.

"You're making me look bad with this punctuality thing," you say by way of greeting, stepping aside to let him in.

"Sorry?" he offers, clearly unsure if he's actually done something wrong.

You laugh. "I'm joking. Come in."

Your dorm room is standard—bed, desk, small seating area with a loveseat and coffee table—but you've made it yours with art on the walls and plants on every available surface. Sunghoon takes it all in with curious eyes.

"I like your space," he says, and it sounds genuine.

"Thanks. Where should we set up? Desk or coffee table?"

"Either is fine," he says, that formal politeness still present even after your hours in the coffee shop.

You end up at the coffee table, sitting side by side on the loveseat, laptops open. For an hour, you actually make progress on the project. Sunghoon explains correlations in a way that finally makes sense, and you discover you have a talent for visualizing data in creative ways that makes his eyes light up with approval.

But as the afternoon wears on, the small space means your shoulders keep brushing, your knees occasionally touch, and each point of contact feels increasingly deliberate. When you reach for your coffee at the same moment he reaches for his tea, your hands collide, and neither of you pulls away immediately.

"Sorry," you both say at once, and then laugh.

"Great minds," you add, but you're distracted by how his eyes look behind those glasses, warm and focused entirely on you.

At some point, you shift positions, both of you turning toward each other to discuss a particularly complicated aspect of your analysis. Your knees are definitely touching now, and the loveseat suddenly seems much smaller than it did an hour ago.

"So if we compare these variables..." he's saying, but you're watching his mouth form the words more than listening to their meaning.

"Hmm?" you say, forcing your attention back to the screen.

He turns to look at you fully, and you realize how close your faces are. "You're not listening," he says, but there's no accusation in his voice.

"I'm distracted," you admit.

"By statistics?"

"By you."

The words hang in the air between you. Sunghoon blinks, his expression shifting from confusion to something more intense. He swallows visibly, and you watch the movement in his throat.

"I'm... distracting?" he asks, his voice lower than before.

"Extremely." Your eyes lock on his glasses, the way they frame his dark eyes, how they complete his devastatingly attractive intellectual look. "Especially with these on."

His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. "The glasses?"

"God, yes," you breathe, moving closer. "You have no idea how fucking hot you look in them."

A flush spreads across his cheeks, but there's a new confidence in the way he holds your gaze. Without warning, he pulls you forward into a kiss that has nothing of his usual restraint. His laptop slides forgotten to the coffee table as you shift closer, and then somehow you're straddling his lap, your hands on either side of his face as you deepen the kiss.

When you break apart to breathe, his glasses are slightly askew. You straighten them gently, then run your fingers through his usually immaculate hair, deliberately messing it up while keeping the glasses perfectly in place.

"You're so sexy," you murmur against his mouth. "I've been thinking about this since the first day we were paired up."

His hands find your hips, holding you firmly against him. "I find that... statistically improbable," he manages, but his breathing is as uneven as yours.

"I'll show you improbable," you whisper, grinding down deliberately. His glasses fog slightly from the heat between you, and the sight sends a thrill through your body. "So fucking hot," you repeat, unable to stop yourself.

His hands slide beneath your shirt, exploring with a surprising boldness that makes you gasp. "We should—" he starts, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” you agree, already pulling him up from the loveseat, walking backwards toward your bed while keeping his mouth on yours. “The project can definitely wait.”

You fall back onto the mattress, pulling him down with you, careful not to knock his glasses off as he hovers above you. They’ve fogged again from the heat between your bodies, and something about that sight—this controlled, precise man coming undone while still looking every bit the hot intellectual—pushes you past any remaining hesitation.

“Leave them on,” you insist when he reaches to remove his glasses. “Please.”

His lips curve into a smile that’s nothing like his usual restrained expressions—this one is knowing, almost wicked. “If that’s what you want,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“It’s definitely what I want,” you gasp as his teeth graze your skin. “Along with… everything else.”

There’s a playful air to each touch, a slow building of tension as you both start to peel away layers. You tug at the hem of his shirt first, sliding it up inch by tantalizing inch until he lifts his arms to help you pull it off. He returns the favor by slipping a hand under your blouse, fingertips teasing over your ribs. Every time he tries to hasten the pace, you grin and slow him down, dragging the fabric just a bit more before letting it fall away, leaving him momentarily breathless. The sound he makes—caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh—sends a thrill through you.

Time seems to blur as clothing is discarded piece by piece, inhibitions falling away with each new revelation of skin. The afternoon sunlight filters through your curtains, casting everything in a warm glow.

At some point, you find yourself above him, both of you completely bare except for his glasses, which have somehow remained perfectly in place despite everything. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him beneath you—all lean muscle and flushed skin, those wire-rimmed glasses still perched on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat between your bodies.

“You’re staring,” he whispers, a vulnerability in his voice despite the intimate position.

“Can you blame me?” You lean down, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, then another, and another, each one growing more insistent. “God, look at you.”

His hands find your hips, steadying you as you continue to kiss him, his glasses occasionally bumping against your face in a way that only heightens your desire. There's something impossibly erotic about him being completely naked except for those glasses—the contrast between his exposed body and that one remnant of his studious, put-together appearance.

"You're so fucking sexy," you breathe against his mouth. "How does anyone focus in that statistics class with you sitting there looking like this?"

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. "I could ask you the same question."

Your kisses become more urgent, your bodies moving together with increasing need. The heat between you builds with each touch, each whispered encouragement. Sunghoon's usually careful movements grow bolder, more instinctive, as your hands explore each other's bodies. His glasses, still perfectly perched on his nose, begin to fog at the edges first—just a light mist that catches the dim light of your room. But as your passion intensifies, as your breathing grows more ragged and synchronized, the lenses cloud completely.

When you pull back to look at him, you can't help but laugh softly at the sight—this brilliantly composed man now completely blinded by the evidence of your shared desire, those glasses that make him look so irresistibly intellectual now rendered useless by the heat radiating between your bodies. To your surprise, he laughs too—not the polite chuckle you've heard in class or the soft amusement from your coffee shop conversations, but a genuine, uninhibited sound that seems to come from somewhere deep inside him. It's rich and warm and completely unguarded.

"I can't see a thing," he admits, his voice husky with desire and amusement. His hands find your face despite his temporary blindness, thumbs tracing your cheekbones with unexpected precision. "But I don't need to see to know exactly where you are."

"Is that so?" you challenge, your breath catching as his fingers trail down your neck, across your collarbone, mapping you with deliberate attention.

"I've been studying you," he murmurs, his touch making you shiver despite the heat between you. "Memorizing. Analyzing patterns." His hands continue their exploration, finding every sensitive spot with remarkable accuracy. "It's very... statistical."

You laugh against his mouth. "Only you could make statistics sound sexy."

Through the fogged lenses, you can just barely make out how his eyes darken at your words. "I have other statistical terms I could demonstrate," he offers, surprising you again with his boldness. His accent becomes slightly more pronounced when he's like this—another detail you've grown to cherish.

"Show me," you whisper, and he does—his hands and mouth conducting a thorough analysis of cause and effect, of stimuli and response, until you're clutching at his shoulders and gasping his name. All while those fogged-up glasses remain perfectly in place, the final vestige of his composed exterior while everything else between you unravels into glorious chaos.

You’re already bare beneath him, skin flushed from teasing and anticipation, but the only thing still clinging to his body—those damn glasses—make it so much worse. Or better. Definitely better.

Sunghoon hovers over you, gaze dark behind the lenses, lips swollen and slightly parted as he takes in the sight of you. You should be embarrassed at how wanton you must look, legs spread for him, body already trembling, but he’s the one who looks wrecked. His composure is gone, shattered somewhere between the desperate kisses and the way you dragged your nails down his back.

His lips quirk. “Still want me to leave them on?”

“Don’t even think about taking them off.”

His smile turns wicked, and then he’s moving—kissing, sucking, trailing his mouth down your body with purpose. His fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you wider, and then he’s right there—close enough that you can feel the ghost of his breath against you, the heat of it making your stomach clench.

He doesn’t start slow. No teasing, no light flicks of his tongue just to test the waters. Sunghoon eats you like he’s been starving for this, like he’s been waiting for the moment he could taste you, drown in you. His tongue is hot and relentless, curling against you just right, pressing where you need him most, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body.

But what really undoes you is the feeling of his glasses pressing against your inner thighs, the cold metal contrasting with the heat of his mouth. Every time he moves, every time he adjusts his angle, the frames shift against your skin—slightly rough, slightly smooth, a reminder of exactly who is between your legs and how absolutely ruined he’s making you.

You fist the sheets, hips jerking up into his mouth, but he pins you down effortlessly, a strong arm wrapped around your thigh to keep you exactly where he wants you. He groans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations shooting through you, making you gasp his name.

“Fuck, Sunghoon—”

His response is a low hum against your clit, and your whole body shakes. You feel the damp heat of his breath, the slick slide of his tongue, but more than anything, you feel the weight of those goddamn glasses as they drag along your skin, fogging up even more, smudging against your inner thigh every time he moves deeper, harder, sloppier.

The sheer filth of it makes you clench around nothing.

Sunghoon notices, because of course he does—because he’s been studying you this whole time, memorizing what makes you gasp, what makes your thighs tremble around his head. And he’s smug about it, too, because when he pulls back just enough to glance up at you, lips glistening, glasses just barely slipping down his nose, he smirks.

“You like that, don’t you?” His voice is raspy, breathless, wrecked.

You don’t even try to deny it. “Yes—God, yes, don’t stop.”

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens, and he doesn’t make you beg for it. He dives right back in, tongue flicking, sucking, his grip on your thighs tightening as you lose yourself completely. The drag of his glasses, the precise way he adjusts his angle to push you higher, the way he groans into you like he’s getting off on this just as much as you are—it’s too much.

The coil in your stomach snaps hard, pleasure crashing over you so intensely that you barely realize you’re pulling at his hair, moaning his name like a prayer, like you might fall apart completely if he stops.

Sunghoon doesn’t stop. Not right away. He works you through the aftershocks, his tongue slow, methodical, lazy in a way that makes you shudder from overstimulation. Only when your body twitches beneath him does he finally pull away, chin glistening, glasses fucking ruined.

You’re still gasping when he crawls back up your body, hovering over you, his mouth right there, his glasses so close you can see the way they’re fogged-up and smudged with sweat.

When you finally collapse beside each other, spent and satisfied, his glasses are askew once more. You reach over to straighten them, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm.

"So," you say, when you've caught your breath, "should we tell Professor Clarke we've found an interesting correlation to study?"

Sunghoon laughs, the sound free and unrestrained in a way you hadn't heard before today. "I don't think this is what he had in mind for the assignment."

"His loss," you murmur, snuggling closer. "I'd say our statistical analysis was very... thorough."

"We should probably actually work on the project at some point," he says, but makes no move to get up.

"Tomorrow," you promise, running a finger along his jawline. "I think we need to collect more data first."

His eyebrow raises above the rim of his glasses. "For the sake of academic integrity?"

"Absolutely," you agree solemnly, before dissolving into laughter.

The statistics of probability have never been so compelling.

-

Over the next few weeks, your statistics class takes on an entirely new dimension. What was once your least favorite part of the week has become the highlight—not because you've suddenly developed a passion for data analysis, but because of the subtle dance that unfolds between you and Sunghoon twice a week in that computer lab.

The Monday after your "study session," you arrive to class five minutes early—a personal record. Sunghoon is already there, of course, and the moment he sees you, his ears turn slightly pink. When you slide into the seat next to him, now officially your spot, he gives you a small smile that feels like a secret.

"You're early," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"I had motivation," you reply, letting your knee brush against his under the desk.

His eyes flicker to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to his notebook. "I hope it wasn't just for... statistical analysis."

"Depends on how you define statistics," you whisper just as Professor Clarke calls the class to order.

Throughout the lecture, you're acutely aware of every movement Sunghoon makes—how he adjusts his glasses when he's thinking, the precise way he takes notes, the occasional glance he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking. Halfway through class, you deliberately drop your pen between you. When you both reach for it, your fingers touch, and he doesn't pull away. Instead, he hooks his pinky finger over yours for just a moment before handing you the pen. The small gesture sends a flutter through your chest.

After class, you walk together to the coffee shop without needing to discuss it. Somehow, it's already become your routine.

"How's the dataset compilation going?" he asks as you find a small table in the corner.

"That's what you want to talk about right now? Really?" You raise an eyebrow.

A faint smile plays at his lips. "We do have a project due in three weeks."

"Always so responsible," you sigh dramatically, but there's fondness in your voice. "It's going fine. I've got the coffee consumption survey data from about fifty students so far."

He nods approvingly. "That's a decent sample size for our purposes."

When your drinks arrive—his Earl Grey and your excessively complicated latte—you notice something different about him. He's still quiet, still thoughtful, but there's a new ease to his movements, a softness around his eyes when he looks at you.

"What?" he asks, catching you studying him.

"Nothing," you say, then reconsider. "Actually, not nothing. You seem... different."

He takes a sip of his tea, considering. "I feel different," he admits after a moment. "With you."

The simple sincerity of his words catches you off guard. For all your flirtatious confidence, his straightforward honesty disarms you completely.

"Good different?" you ask, suddenly feeling shy.

"Very good different," he confirms, and beneath the table, his foot rests against yours. Not by accident.

By the third week, you've fallen into patterns that blend the academic with the intimate. Your Tuesday and Thursday afternoons are devoted to actual project work—usually in the library where the public setting keeps you reasonably focused. 

Your Saturday “study sessions” in your dorm room are significantly less productive in the statistical sense, though you joke that you’re certainly collecting plenty of data on other variables.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes every time you say it, but you know he loves it—loves how eager, how shameless you are when it comes to him. Because every time you spread your legs for him, every time you drag him into another compromising position, he never tells you no.

Case Study #1: The Textbooks

It starts with an innocent enough setup—Sunghoon sitting cross-legged on the floor, back against your bed, flipping through a statistics textbook while you sit across from him, pretending to study. But it’s boring. He looks too good in his glasses, sleeves rolled up, the slightest furrow in his brow as he concentrates. And before you even realize you’re moving, you’re crawling into his lap, straddling him right there on top of the book.

He barely has time to exhale your name before you sink down onto him, making both of you groan.

The hardcover digs into your knees, the pages creasing beneath you, but you couldn’t care less. Sunghoon is buried inside you, stretching you open, warm and deep and perfect, and the only data you’re analyzing is how his breath stutters when you roll your hips just right.

“Fuck, you’re unreal—” he pants, hands gripping your waist, watching you through the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses as you use him, ride him slow, grind on him like you want to ruin him.

You do. You want to wreck him just as much as he’s wrecking you. The friction, the delicious drag, the way his hands squeeze your hips to urge you to go faster, harder—it all shreds your self-control.

By the time you both come undone, gasping and clinging to each other, the textbook beneath you is thoroughly creased, sticky, ruined. Neither of you even bother looking at it.

Case Study #2: The Desk Chair

Another Saturday, another useless attempt at studying.

Sunghoon’s seated at your desk this time, one leg lazily spread, hand bracing his forehead as he tries to focus. But you’re kneeling between his legs, and the moment you reach for his zipper, his entire body tenses.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And?” You tug his pants down just enough to free him, palming his length, watching him harden in your hand as his breathing turns shallow.

He leans back, exhaling sharply when your lips part and you take him deep. His hand finds the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as you swirl your tongue around him, tease him, make him fall apart.

His glasses slip down his nose as he watches you, half-lidded and dazed, jaw slack as you take him deeper, sucking, hollowing your cheeks, making obscene little noises that drive him insane.

He trembles when he finally spills down your throat, groaning your name, head thrown back against the chair.

And the moment he catches his breath, he drags you into his lap, flips you onto the desk, and fucks you stupid.

Case Study #3: Against the Window

Another week. Another “study session.” Another location.

This time, you find yourself pressed against the glass of your dorm window, palms splayed, breath fogging the pane as Sunghoon pounds into you from behind.

The curtains are open.

You don’t know if anyone can see—if someone walking by on the street below can look up and spot your bare body, the lewd way you’re bent over, Sunghoon’s hands gripping your hips as he drives into you with punishing force.

But you don’t care.

All you care about is the way he grunts into your ear, his glasses slightly askew, one hand slipping down to rub your clit, making you jerk and gasp his name as pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“Keep your eyes open,” he growls, voice thick with lust, dragging his lips along your shoulder. “Look outside. Look at what a mess you are.”

Case Study #4: The Shower

It’s late, and you should be asleep. But instead, you’re pressed up against the tiled wall of your tiny dorm shower, water scalding hot, steam curling around you as Sunghoon lifts you up, holds you against him, and fucks you slow, deep.

His glasses are gone, finally.

They’d fogged up the moment he stepped into the shower, and the second you’d made a joke about it, he’d taken them off and set them on the sink. But you don’t miss them too much—not when his mouth is on your throat, sucking bruises into your wet skin, not when his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you in place as he rolls his hips into you with exquisite precision.

You come twice before you finally stumble out of the shower, exhausted, dripping, completely spent.

And the moment you walk back into your dorm room, still naked, Sunghoon picks up his glasses, slides them back on, and gives you a look that tells you he’s nowhere near finished with you.

Case Study #5: The Floor (Again, Because You Can’t Stop)

At this point, you don’t even make it to the bed.

You’re both desperate, panting, **clawing at each other like you can’t stand the idea of being apart for another second.**The moment Sunghoon pushes you onto the floor, you’re already wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down, gasping when he fills you in one smooth thrust.

It’s fast, dirty, messy.

He grits out your name, one hand bracing beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, holding you open as he slams into you, pace brutal, relentless. The carpet burns on your back will be worth it.

He loses his glasses at some point, but you don’t even notice—you’re too busy coming apart beneath him, clawing at his back, moaning his name like you’ll never get enough of him.

Maybe you won’t.

Because the second you catch your breath, still tangled up in him, you’re already thinking about where you’ll fuck next.

What surprises you most is how much you enjoy both versions of your time together. The project, which should be tedious, becomes engaging through Sunghoon's perspective. He has a way of finding patterns in chaos that makes even the driest data seem fascinating. And through your influence, he's learning to approach problems more creatively, to see beyond the rigid frameworks he's always relied on.

"What if we visualize it this way instead?" you suggest one Tuesday, sketching a completely unorthodox chart on the margin of his meticulously organized notes.

His initial reaction is skepticism—you can see it in the slight furrow of his brow—but he considers it longer than he would have three weeks ago.

"It's unconventional," he says finally.

"But?"

"But it might actually work better for presenting the correlation," he concedes, and the smile you give him is so bright it makes the student at the next table look over.

In class, Professor Clarke notices the change in both of you. Your questions become more insightful, Sunghoon's responses more animated. When you present your initial findings mid-semester, the professor actually seems impressed by your unusual approach to visualization.

"An interesting methodology," he comments, adjusting his own glasses in a way that reminds you of Sunghoon. "Unorthodox, but effective."

You beam at Sunghoon, who ducks his head slightly but can't hide his pleased expression.

After class, he catches your hand as you're packing up—a gesture he would never have initiated before.

"We make a good team," he says quietly.

"The best," you agree, squeezing his fingers before reluctantly letting go. Public displays still make him slightly uncomfortable, and you respect his boundaries.

-

It's during a rainy Friday evening in your dorm room, six weeks into your relationship (though neither of you has officially labeled it as such), that something shifts again.

You're sprawled on your bed with your laptop, Sunghoon sitting at your desk reviewing your latest statistical findings, his glasses reflecting the blue light of the screen. Classical music plays softly from his phone—another new development. He's been gradually introducing you to his favorite composers, and you've found you actually enjoy the background music while working.

"Your scatterplot is missing a data point," he says, turning to look at you.

"Mmm, probably deleted it accidentally," you reply, not looking up from your position. "Is it important?"

"All data points are important," he says, but there's amusement in his voice rather than criticism.

You roll onto your back, laptop balanced on your stomach. "That sounds like something that would be on a statistics department t-shirt. 'All data points matter.'"

He laughs—a sound that's become less rare but no less thrilling to hear. "I'd wear it."

"Of course you would," you tease. "With your glasses and a pocket protector."

He makes a face at you. "I don't own a pocket protector."

"Yet," you add with a grin.

He shakes his head, turning back to the screen, but you catch the smile he tries to hide. After a moment, he speaks again without looking at you.

"My parents want to meet you."

You sit up so quickly your laptop nearly slides off your stomach. "What?"

Now he turns, his expression a mixture of nervousness and something softer. "I mentioned you during our weekly call. Multiple times, apparently. My mother... noticed."

"You talk about me to your parents?" You can't keep the pleased surprise from your voice.

He adjusts his glasses, a gesture you now recognize as his tell when he's feeling vulnerable. "It seems I do."

"What do you tell them?" You set your laptop aside, giving him your full attention.

"That you're brilliant in ways I'm not. That you see solutions I miss." He pauses. "That you make statistics class the best part of my week."

Your heart does that skipping thing it did the first day Professor Clarke paired you together, only stronger now.

"Sunghoon Park," you say softly, "are you saying I'm statistically significant to you?"

His expression turns serious, though his eyes remain gentle. "With a p-value approaching zero," he replies, and though it's phrased as a joke, his tone makes it clear it's anything but.

In statistics, a p-value approaching zero indicates an extremely high likelihood that an observed effect is real and not due to chance. It's the closest thing to certainty that statistics allows.

You cross the room to where he sits, gently taking his face between your hands. His glasses are slightly smudged, and you resist the urge to clean them, focusing instead on the eyes behind them.

"So," you say, "when do I meet these parents who raised such a statistically significant nerd?"

He laughs, pulling you into his lap in a move that would have seemed impossibly bold from him just weeks ago. "They're visiting next weekend. Dinner on Saturday?"

"I'm there," you promise, sealing it with a kiss.

-

The day of your semester project presentation arrives with an unexpected lack of anxiety. You're prepared—more prepared than you've been for any academic presentation in your life. Partly because the subject has actually become interesting to you, but mostly because working on it meant spending hours with Sunghoon.

You stand beside him at the front of the class, watching him explain your methodology with a confidence that wasn't there at the beginning of the semester. His voice is still quiet, still measured, but there's a strength behind it now, an assurance that comes from truly understanding his material. When he gestures to your creative visualization on the screen, there's a hint of pride in his voice that makes your chest warm.

When it's your turn to present, you catch him watching you with undisguised admiration. You explain the correlations you found between different types of coffee consumption and various academic performance metrics, throwing in jokes that make the class laugh and complex statistical terms that make Professor Clarke nod approvingly.

"And in conclusion," you finish, "we found that while caffeine consumption generally correlates with improved academic performance up to a point, the type of environment in which the coffee is consumed may be an equally significant factor."

"Furthermore," Sunghoon adds, stepping forward to stand beside you, shoulder to shoulder, "we discovered that the companionship variable—whether students studied alone or with others—showed the strongest positive correlation with both satisfaction and performance outcomes."

His eyes meet yours for a brief moment, and you know he's not just talking about the data anymore.

When Professor Clarke gives your presentation an A and commends your "complementary analytical approaches," you resist the urge to high-five Sunghoon in front of everyone. Instead, you wait until you're outside the building, then throw your arms around him in celebration.

To your surprise, he lifts you slightly off the ground in his enthusiasm, spinning once before setting you down, his face flushed with excitement and mild embarrassment at his own uncharacteristic display.

"We did it," he says, adjusting his glasses which were knocked askew by your hug.

"Was there ever any doubt?" you reply, reaching up to straighten them properly. "We're statistically significant, remember?"

His smile softens, and right there on the path outside the statistics building, with students streaming past on their way to other classes, he kisses you without hesitation or self-consciousness.

"What was that for?" you ask when he pulls away, delighted but surprised by the public display.

"I've been collecting data," he says, his eyes crinkling behind those glasses you've grown to love, "and I've formed a hypothesis."

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And what hypothesis is that, Mr. Park?"

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you begin walking toward the coffee shop that's become your place.

"That I'm in love with you," he says simply. "And unlike most statistical conclusions, I'm one hundred percent certain."

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. "That's a bold statistical claim. Absolute certainty is rare in your field."

"I have compelling evidence," he counters, and the confidence in his voice, so different from the hesitant student you met months ago, makes your heart race.

"I might need to review your data," you tease, though your voice catches slightly.

"Extensive observation over time," he begins, stepping closer. "Consistent results across multiple variables. Reproducible effects." His voice drops lower. "Significant positive impact on all quality-of-life metrics."

"Very scientific," you murmur, your hands finding their way to his chest.

"I thought so," he agrees, his eyes serious despite the playful exchange. "So my conclusion stands."

You rise on your tiptoes, pressing your forehead to his. "Well, as someone who's conducted a parallel study, I can confirm your findings. The evidence suggests I'm in love with you too."

His smile, rare and full, lights up his entire face. "Independently verified results. The best kind."

“Should we celebrate this breakthrough with coffee?” you suggest, already knowing his answer.

“I was thinking maybe we skip the coffee today,” he says, surprising you again. “I have other hypotheses I’d like to test.”

“Professor Clarke would be shocked at your dedication to statistical research,” you laugh, letting him lead you in the direction of your dorm instead of the coffee shop.

“Some variables,” he says with newfound confidence, “are worth studying in depth.”

You lean in close, pressing your lips right against the shell of his ear, and whisper the kind of filth that would make even the most shameless person blush.

“Then why don’t you pin me down the second we walk through that door, shove your face between my legs, and eat me so fucking good I forget my own name? And when I can’t take anymore, you’ll flip me over and fuck me like you’re trying to imprint yourself inside me—deep, rough, until I’m crying and drooling on the sheets, too dumb to do anything but take it.”

Sunghoon stops breathing.

You feel the exact moment your words hit him—his entire body locks up, his grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear his teeth grind.

His glasses fog immediately.

A strangled noise escapes him, something between a curse and a choked groan, and then he’s moving.

Not just moving—dragging you, fast, purposeful, like a man on a mission.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath, voice wrecked, dangerous, and it sends a thrill straight through you.

By the time you reach your dorm, he’s already reaching for the door handle, barely keeping himself together, and the second it clicks shut behind you—

You know he’s about to make good on every single word you just whispered.

That, by any metric, was statistically significant indeed.

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @naurwayyyyy @bloomiize @zzhengyu @annybah @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4 @starniras @wonuziex

[mariacallous]

The first thing to say about the hate and scorn currently directed at the mainstream US media is that they worked hard to earn it. They’ve done so by failing, repeatedly, determinedly, spectacularly to do their job, which is to maintain their independence, inform the electorate, and speak truth to power. While the left has long had reasons to dismiss centrist media, and the right has loathed it most when it did do its job well, the moderates who are furious at it now seem to be something new – and a host of former editors, media experts and independent journalists have been going after them hard this summer.

Longtime journalist James Fallows declares that three institutions – the Republican party, the supreme court, and the mainstream political press – “have catastrophically failed to ‘meet the moment’ under pressure of [the] Trump era”. Centrist political reformer and columnist Norm Ornstein states that these news institutions “have had no reflection, no willingness to think through how irresponsible and reckless so much of our mainstream press and so many of our journalists have been and continue to be”.

Most voters, he says, “have no clue what a second Trump term would actually be like. Instead, we get the same insipid focus on the horse race and the polls, while normalizing abnormal behavior and treating this like a typical presidential election, not one that is an existential threat to democracy.”

Lamenting the state of the media recently on X, Jeff Jarvis, another former editor and newspaper columnist, said: “What ‘press’? The broken and vindictive Times? The newly Murdochian Post? Hedge-fund newspaper husks? Rudderless CNN or NPR? Murdoch’s fascist media?”

These critics are responding to how the behemoths of the industry seem intent on bending the facts to fit their frameworks and agendas. In pursuit of clickbait content centered on conflicts and personalities, they follow each other into informational stampedes and confirmation bubbles.

They pursue the appearance of fairness and balance by treating the true and the false, the normal and the outrageous, as equally valid and by normalizing Republicans, especially Donald Trump, whose gibberish gets translated into English and whose past crimes and present-day lies and threats get glossed over. They neglect, again and again, important stories with real consequences. This is not entirely new – in a scathing analysis of 2016 election coverage, the Columbia Journalism Review noted that “in just six days, The New York Times ran as many cover stories about Hillary Clinton’s emails as they did about all policy issues combined in the 69 days leading up to the election” – but it’s gotten worse, and a lot of insiders have gotten sick of it.

In July, ordinary people on social media decided to share information about the rightwing Project 2025 and did a superb job of raising public awareness about it, while the press obsessed about Joe Biden’s age and health. NBC did report on this grassroots education effort, but did so using the “both sides are equally valid” framework often deployed by mainstream media, saying the agenda is “championed by some creators as a guide to less government oversight and slammed by others as a road map to an authoritarian takeover of America”. There is no valid case it brings less government oversight.

In an even more outrageous case, the New York Times ran a story comparing the Democratic and Republican plans to increase the housing supply – which treated Trump’s plans for mass deportation of undocumented immigrants as just another housing-supply strategy that might work or might not. (That it would create massive human rights violations and likely lead to huge civil disturbances was one overlooked factor, though the fact that some of these immigrants are key to the building trades was mentioned.)

Other stories of pressing concern are either picked up and dropped or just neglected overall, as with Trump’s threats to dismantle a huge portion of the climate legislation that is both the Biden administration’s signal achievement and crucial for the fate of the planet. The Washington Post editorial board did offer this risibly feeble critique on 17 August: “It would no doubt be better for the climate if the US president acknowledged the reality of global warming – rather than calling it a scam, as Mr Trump has.”

While the press blamed Biden for failing to communicate his achievements, which is part of his job, it’s their whole job to do so. The Climate Jobs National Resource Center reports that the Inflation Reduction Act has created “a combined potential of over $2tn in investment, 1,091,966 megawatts of clean power, and approximately 3,947,670 jobs”, but few Americans have any sense of what the bill has achieved or even that the economy is by many measures strong.

Last winter, the New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, who has a Nobel prize in economics, told Greg Sargent on the latter’s Daily Blast podcast that when he writes positive pieces about the Biden economy, his editor asks “don’t you want to qualify” it; “aren’t people upset by X, Y and Z and shouldn’t you be acknowledging that?”

Meanwhile in an accusatory piece about Kamala Harris headlined When your opponent calls you ‘communist,’ maybe don’t propose price controls?, a Washington Post columnist declares in another case of bothsiderism: “Voters want to blame someone for high grocery bills, and the presidential candidates have apparently decided the choices are either the Biden administration or corporate greed. Harris has chosen the latter.” The evidence that corporations have jacked up prices and are reaping huge profits is easy to find, but facts don’t matter much in this kind of opining.

It’s hard to gloat over the decline of these dinosaurs of American media, when a free press and a well-informed electorate are both crucial to democracy. The alternatives to the major news outlets simply don’t reach enough readers and listeners, though the non-profit investigative outfit ProPublica and progressive magazines such as the New Republic and Mother Jones, are doing a lot of the best reporting and commentary.

Earlier this year, when Alabama senator Katie Britt gave her loopy rebuttal to Biden’s State of the Union address, it was an independent journalist, Jonathan Katz, who broke the story on TikTok that her claims about a victim of sex trafficking contained significant falsehoods. The big news outlets picked up the scoop from him, making me wonder what their staffs of hundreds were doing that night.

A host of brilliant journalists young and old, have started independent newsletters, covering tech, the state of the media, politics, climate, reproductive rights and virtually everything else, but their reach is too modest to make them a replacement for the big newspapers and networks. The great exception might be historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose newsletter and Facebook followers give her a readership not much smaller than that of the Washington Post. The tremendous success of her sober, historically grounded (and footnoted!) news summaries and reflections bespeaks a hunger for real news.

[spoiledblogif]

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This is the development blog for the interactive fiction called "The Second Sight", which you can find on itch.io at the link above!

This is my first IF project, although I've been writing original stories and fanfiction for years.

I've included the story description and character profiles from the itch page below the cut.

This blog will be a combination of development info, images and music that I associate with the story, and other musings.

Fair warning, there might be spoilers from the latest chapters here, so I recommend catching up before reading too far.

Asks and submissions are always open.

LAST UPDATED: 03/22/25 (Chapter 7)

(Content and trigger warnings at the bottom.)

You’re an urban legend in a county full of them.  When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.

Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers.  You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons.  You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.

However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.

✤✤✤

The Second Sight is an urban fantasy story, where you step into the role of a psychic whose strange powers have always separated them from others. Those same powers will drag you down the rabbit hole and into a world that is both familiar and foreign to everything you know. A world filled with magic, witches, fae, demons, and the unknown.

You can immerse yourself in the story by customizing your protagonist's general appearance, choosing how they interact with others, and whether you lean on logic or intuition to problem solve. There are three love interests planned (more may be added depending on player reception and feedback), the genders of which will be selected by the player upon meeting them.

Characters

Jacob Carter

Age: Late forties

Race: Human. Definitely.

Gender: Male

Temperament: Carter radiates grizzled, old bastard energy and despite being the least paternal person in the world, he is your adoptive father. While harsh and aloof on the surface, he is also fiercely protective of you and has bent over backwards to give a decent life to a kid that isn't even his. He doesn't talk about his life before coming to Herman County and you haven't asked him, though that might change soon enough...

✤✤✤ Renard/Rowan

Age: Appears to be in their late twenties or early thirties

Race: Human. Maybe.

Appearance: Tall and slender, white-blonde hair, and gold eyes.

Temperament: Playful and witty, talking to R always feels like a game of cat and mouse and you can never be sure which role is yours. Part sad clown, part trickster, and always maddening to work with, the only things you can be certain of with R is that they probably know what they're doing. Everything else is up in the air.

✤✤✤

Zander/Zora

Age: Late twenties/Early thirties

Race: Human. Mostly.

Appearance: Umber brown skin, black locs, grey eyes 

Temperament: Gentle and resolute, Z isn't what you imagine when you think of an agent of the mysterious Magic and Anomalies Bureau. Kind, soft-spoken, and exceedingly polite, Z is Carter's former apprentice and something about them puts the old man on edge.

✤✤✤

Unknown aka "The Kestrel"

Age: ???

Race: Definitely not human.

Appearance: Tall, beautiful, elegant, with black hair and blue eyes.

Temperament: The Kestrel is a complete unknown. It's impossible to say whether they are a lethal ally or deadly enemy, but either way they are a powerful dreamwalker. You don't know how long they've been watching you, but you're willing to bet that it's been longer than you're comfortable with.

✤✤✤

This story contains sexually suggestive material, violence, talk of abductions and abuse, and mature language. Not recommended for those under 18.

(All visual elements were made using Canva's free assets.)

Join me on Tumblr @spoiledblog

Join me over on Patreon

Join the discord

[flowercrowngods]

just some stobin projection i had to get out of my system

cw: intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation (linked to intrusive thoughts, discussed not in detail but bluntly) . still largely a hurt/comfort (but the comfort is having people to confide in, not solving the problem)

—————————————————————————

“You’re pretty quiet over there,” Steve tells the ceiling as he takes another hit. His head is growing heavier on the pillow, his body anchored to the bed so firmly and comfortably, he couldn’t move and look at Robin even if he tried.

But he doesn’t need to look at her, because the scenery is familiar. He’s starfishing on sheets that are so much softer than the ones he put on his own bed last week, the smell of laundry detergent so distinct and intense it wafts around him and mingles with the sweet-stale smell of the weed he’s smoking. It also smells a bit like Robin even though she’s all the way over there, sitting in the window; knees drawn to her chest so she can scribble and doodle on her new light-blue Chucks.

Three of his favourite things combined like this — Robin, getting high, and clean sheets — Steve feels pretty damn content.

It’s just that Robin is quiet. She’s been really quiet all day. Most of the week, even. Granted, quiet for Robin means something different than for most other people, but Steve is fluent in whatever language they’ve instated between them. Her rambles are more stilted, ending in the middle of a sentence and leading nowhere when usually she would explode if she left a thought unmentioned and a sentence unfinished. She chews on her lips instead of griping at people that annoy her, she seems stuck in her head in a way that can’t be solved by narrating her every worry, and most of all she talks slower. Almost in the pace of common people.

And now, sitting in the window of her favourite guest room in this abandoned palace that is his home, she’s actually silent. Not even singing along to Kim Wilde. Not even a hum.

Hence the question.

“Robbie? You okay?” More silence. “S going on?”

“Nothing, it’s… just very loud in my head.”

Steve hums, because this isn’t news to him and he knows that she knows that, too, so maybe there’s more to come. Or maybe not. Maybe this isn’t even the right moment to ask loaded questions.

“Does it ever get, like, super loud and super horrible in your head?”

Or maybe it is the moment, apparently. He rolls his head to the side to look at her. She looks kind of ethereal like that. The lights are out in his room, there’s only the glow of the joint and a little blue night light just beside Robin. Steve doesn’t even remember where that came from, but it’s always in here, always waiting for them.

It makes him smile despite her question.

“Kind of,” he says, his tongue weirdly heavy in his mouth now that he’s shifted his head, and he wants to roll back but he also wants to keep looking at Robin and their little blue light. It’s his favourite thing. His favourite person. Who’s talking again.

“I mean, not in the monster-fighting-trauma kinda way where you remember that hey, maybe actual children shouldn’t be out there saving the world because stupid grownups messed with the wrong other stupid grownups and fucked up big time but refuse to take responsibility. Not in that way. Though that is a fair way. I mean… Never mind.”

Steve does mind. He always minds. Even when he’s comfortably high, incapable of moving anytime soon and suspended in space and time like he is right now, his eyes fixed on a few strands of Robin’s wild hair that move gently in the breeze that makes her break out in goosebumps every couple of minutes.

She’s not looking at him, but that’s okay. Maybe it’s better like this. Loaded questions don’t like direct eye contact.

“You mean?” he prompts gently after a while.

She sighs, burying her chin between her knees, the movements of her pen stilling. Another way for her to be quiet.

“Do you ever just… have your brain trying to convince you that you’d like to sort of… be dead? And then it’s trying really hard to provide you with images and thoughts and scenarios and they all feel, like, very real? And then you get nauseous because your body’s catching up with what your brain is doing and in between that you’re just kinda… There? Trying to make money, do homework or hang out with your friends?”

Steve thinks about it — really thinks about it because thinking horrible thoughts is kind of hard right now, but he honestly can’t remember if he’s ever wanted to be dead in that way. Doesn’t really sound like him either.

He shakes his head even though she’s still not looking. “No. I don’t think so.”

Silence comes back, but now he imagines that the silence means something different for him than it means for her, and now he doesn’t want it there.

“You wanna die, Bobbie?”

She shakes her head, and Steve is glad he’s looking so he can commit that to his memory forever — or until his brain gives out on him, thirty years give or take. It’s a pretty damn short time for a forever, but it’ll have to do.

“No,” she says after a while, her voice hoarse and flat. “Don’t think I do, not really. It’s just… I kind of want people to know. Not to worry, not to fear, just to know. So they’ll know that there’s this, this marathon of a suicidal teenie show on in my head, and the volume is really loud and I can see the flickering lights of the TV on, but I’m not looking. I’m not watching, I choose to watch out of my own two eyes and see what’s real, what’s up. But sometimes the TV grows louder and I can’t ignore it and I have to go look and what if one day I can’t get away from it again and these images become real? And then I won’t even know because reality is funky like that in the way that it’s created and not existent, and… I just… I think I want people to know.”

She sniffles and wipes at her face, but Steve can see she’s not crying. He keeps watching her because she’s not done yet. If she were done she’d not lean her head back against the window frame. If she were done she’d turn her face and look at him, waiting for Steve to make it better. Allowing him to try.

“It’s stupid, though. And embarrassing. We’ll probably all die in another dimension before I graduate from high school, and I’m out here worried that at the end of my days, people will only know me as Robin Buckley, Was Alive, rather than as Robin Buckley, Stayed Alive. Because it’s really… really goddamn hard, Steve.”

And now she’s looking at him, and both of their eyes are burning.

“How stupid is that?” she whispers, self deprecating in that way she usually reserves for her more judgmental days.

“‘S not stupid,” Steve says, wishing he were a little less high. Or perhaps a little more. “It honestly kind of makes sense, y’know, with everything else I know about you. It’s pretty on brand.”

It gets a laugh out of Robin that seems to startle her as much as it delights him, and she wipes her face again before looking at him; her cheek resting on her knees. They’re perfectly aligned; it’s the rest of the world that’s upside-down and tilted sideways.

“Gee, thanks,” she says, but there’s a blue little smile on her face.

“I like that you told me that,” Steve continues. “I hate that it happens, it must suck real bad, but… Hey, at least this way I can try and make sure that in the end, everyone will know how annoying you are, not just how… sad.”

“You suck,” she says, deflating. But it wasn’t the wrong thing to say. “Thank you.”

Steve shrugs and watches as Robin comes over to lay down on the bed right beside him and finish the blunt he abandoned halfway through.

He reaches out to take her hand. She squeezes real tight.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promises. “Always.”

She doesn’t answer, just takes a hit that’s a little too long, a little too deep, and he knows the game. He showed her, after all.

“Will you tell me? Next time the movie marathon’s on too long, too loud, too much?”

Another silence, another hit, sharp orange lighting up her face a little eerily.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Probably not.”

“That’s okay.” And he means it. He’ll probably know again anyway. “I’ll still be there.”

He’s protected her against Russian torture and interdimensional monsters. He’ll hold her hand in his bed and fight the monsters in her head, too.

[the-colourful-witch]

Artsy Update :)

Hi everyone, it has been a while since I posted. I've been incredibly busy with a few high-demand projects for which deadlines are approaching swiftly.... *send help please* However! I did continue the Valentine's Day couple series. Here are the final three sketches I did:

Hinny, Jegulily and Jegulus <3 I have to say that while I enjoyed doing these sketches, this style is not exactly my thing :) I love doing character line-ups and story illustrations more, but trying different poses and practising new colour combinations was a lot of fun. I had a blast :) I'm sorry if your favourite ship hasn't been drawn. I could only do a few in the time I had. But there's always next year! <3<3<3 As for the other things taking up my time at the moment... I have a big deadline for a picture book I'm working on. Only five more weeks to finish. When April comes, I'll (hopefully) be done with it and then I'm taking a teeny tiny holiday to rest and gather energy for new projects! I might actually leave the house for that... :)

The other big thing was my first art market of the year! I had a stand at Fantasy Fest in the Netherlands last weekend. I prepared a lot for it, making new prints and stickers and even creating some brand-new artwork :) The result was a booth filled with colourful goodies! I sold a little less than I had hoped for during the weekend, but I did have a lot of great conversations and managed to put a smile on people's faces with my art. And that is the most special thing in the world <3

I loved my little booth. The lighting was great and I had some lovely neighbors with whom I chatted all weekend. My mum also came to help for a day and she stood in front of the booth to play the very convincing 'interested customer', drawing in some more curious onlookers :) I love her, she is my number 1 supporter <3

Now, these are some of the new (and older) products I designed for this fair:

This is the Fantasy Characters collection: a series of 12 fantasy characters in a cool set! I made these specially for the fair and had so much fun with them. I picked out a nice paper, got to design a cool border to tie the whole thing together and even wrapping the sets in a colourful label was so so fun to do! I will definitely do more projects like this in the future. It's the best!

I created a bunch of prints from some of my traditional artworks. Most of them come from the book of fairytales I illustrated last year. They were a hit! Especially the map. That one was my bestseller :)

And of course, I had to add fanart, too. I sold a couple of Marauders band posters. That made my day. It was so cool to meet fellow fans :) (All of these are available in my shop, by the way, in case you're interested :)) Last, but not least: I made STICKERS! In January, I bought a Cricut machine for the first time and after postponing for a month to learn how to make it work, I managed to create these sticker packs:

They are my favourite new creation. It's so cool to be able to make my own stickers! I have four sets: Toads and Toadstools, Owls, Ollivander's Wand Shop and the Stars and Moons doodle sheet.

The little stickers are super fun to fill in empty spaces in your journal and the big ones are a showstopper for any surface. I already stuck a bunch of them on my planner, phone and sketchbooks... I have no shame. This is the best thing I ever made :)

I had a lot of fun!

I am looking forward to more cool art in the near future. I have one more project to finish. A picture book that has been a rollercoaster and not in a good way... I'll be happy when I've got my work done on that. It's still going to be a lovely book, it was just the publishing house that I had some trouble with. I will share something on the book whenever I can :) Right, I'm going to stop yapping! If you made it all the way to the end, thank you! You're amazing! Hugs, Fleur

[gnomey22]

Stellar the Hedgehog Analysis

Just got home from watching the third Sonic movie, and since it focuses so much on Sonic and Shadow's relationship, I thought it'd be the best time to do something I've wanted to do for a while - drop an incredibly long post about my thoughts on @emthimofnight's Sonadow fankid, Stellar the Hedgehog.

And before I say anything more, here's a link to her ref sheet: https://www.tumblr.com/emthimofnight/747427162447118336/name-stellar-the-hedgehog-age-varies-based-on?source=share

A lot of the time, Sonic OCs have been passed off as "cringe", due to the unfortunately well-known ones, but the actual community is full of some of the most dedicated lore-makers and designers I've ever seen, and I'm not even someone who knows Sonic that well! I've done a fair bit of research on the series, but I've never played the main games for myself. I just stumbled onto Stellar while I was mindlessly scrolling, and as I checked out all the posts regarding her, I realised I'd found one of the most intricate, passionate fan creations I'd ever seen, and she's been living rent-free in my head ever since.

Now, for the meat of this post: My analytical thoughts on her. Let's break it down into categories:

Design and Personality:

I'm no expert on character design, I've barely even tried to do it myself (outside of my over-designed Miitopia OCs), but Stellar is absolutely striking. Her fur colour is a clever blend of Sonic's blue and Shadow's black, a dark blue resembling space, with a splash of red thrown in to add to the Shadow of it all. She has stripes as well, but as opposed to Shadow's slashing shapes, hers are more bendy, twisting into the form of a star. Inhibitor rings are strapped to her sneakers, a very poetic combination of her dads' getups, but she's also got her knee and elbow guards, a little touch of her own that links in with her fighting style, and also represents the constant protection around her which I'll get to later.

She's extremely star-coded, from the name to the space colour to the fur markings, and I think that was the perfect direction to go. Stars feel ethereal, but entirely grounded at the same time, a cosmic entity we can look towards at any point. Stellar is much the same, she contains an absolutely incredible power, taking after two previous incredible powers, but her personality is so warm and cheerful, and her very existence is what brings Sonic and Shadow together.

And that's the other point I want to make in this category. Stellar actually has three older siblings who died before they were born (I'll get to that), and they're essentially a sliding scale of Shadow's genes to Sonic's genes. Void is almost entirely Shadow, Andromeda has a bit more Sonic, Polarity is more Sonic than Shadow, and Stellar herself is the only true balance. That's a good word to describe what she represents, balance. Sonic's kindness combined with Shadow's anger, Sonic's showboating combined with Shadow's self-confidence, with her own bubbliness and grace added on top. Everything about her design, just like her role in the "SonDADow AU", simply clicks together.

Background Lore:

As someone unfamiliar with the history of the Sonic fandom, I'm not sure how common the "Sonadow fankid made in a lab" trope is. I know Stellar was not the first, and it'd be unreasonable to assume she was - but I'm willing to bet that Emthim has the very best exploration of the concept.

The failed siblings, for a start. That's a dark turn to take off the bat, the idea that Project: STELLAR has been attempted so many times, and still hasn't been shut down because these people are so desperate to put more insane power out into the world, but it really does set the tone for what's going on here. Stellar, just like Shadow, isn't being viewed as a genuine lifeform despite her title, she and all her siblings were a piece in the puzzle for a bunch of self-absorbed scientists trying to recreate a project that was inhumane from the start. Shadow is frequently pictured as struggling to cope with the knowledge of this project, and of the failed siblings, as it'd very obviously strike a lot of nerves. Sonic reminds him to move forward, though. Just like he always has.

That's another incredible aspect of all of this - Sonic and Shadow being forced to parent together despite being not-very-close-friends before this point. The little interactions displaying their bickering about how much influence each of them have had on their daughter, and constantly fumbling on taking care of her because all three of them have overpowering abilities that completely change how they go about their lives, give so much life to the relationship depicted between them all. Stellar is never outright told about her origin, because Sonic and Shadow want to keep her out of that life, and that level of protection being shown both warms the heart, and fills it with a sense of dread for when she'll find out, because it's (realistically) not a perfect strategy. This all adds so much to the idea that they were haphazardly thrown together by the circumstances of Stellar's very existence, and the duo of hedgehogs are just trying to make do.

Stellar as a sort of "dark star", in her ultimate form or Villain AU, is a concept that really ties it all together. She originated from an evil cause, something that only exists to cause unparalleled destruction, and yet her good will and sense of justice shines through no matter what. You can tie aspects of the same theme to both of her parents, but it's wholly concentrated in her story.

Powers and Abilities:

She's a figure-skater. That's pretty much the whole reason this category exists, I really want to break that down for a second.

The duality of ice skating is one-to-one with the duality of Stellar, in my eyes. It's a graceful, beautiful, typically feminine activity, but it's incredibly easy to cause damage with those blades, and strike the sickest poses on your foes. Stellar has a clearly-defined soft side to her, she's very sweet to the people she cares about, and has that all-encompassing energy only a child of Sonic could possess, but just as much as that, she will rip and tear through someone at a moment's notice if they piss her off, she's got that impulsiveness to her, and we all know she's got the power to back it up. She can be either of these things at any moment, the artistic blade always has an edge to it, and the contrast is no contradiction - She simply is all of her.

On top of that, I want to talk more about the dark/collapsing star form. The idea that she possesses such capacity for destruction, which could take her over from the inside out, that would leave her loved ones desperately reaching out to find that shining star - it has not left my mind since I first saw it. It's one of the most compelling narrative devices anywhere in this AU, there's so much potential in a character like Stellar, making an impact wherever she moves, becoming shrouded in the colossal darkness that still plagues her life no matter what she does. As for the specific piece that drew me into this form so much? I'll link it in the final category.

Camellar:

https://www.tumblr.com/emthimofnight/742720101897437184/some-sketches-illustrating-the-relationship?source=share

The first image in the set is the one I was just referencing, but I'd be retreading ground by talking about it, so I'll focus more on their relationship in general.

I love how it's so "mutual pining childhood friends"-coded, while also straying a decent bit away from the common tropes. Only Camellia has the feelings bouncing around her head like a DVD logo every moment of her life, because Stellar doesn't actually comprehend it at all, despite feeling much the same. True to her nature, she's so focused on building positive relationships with people that she doesn't recognise some of the intricacies of what the relationship is truly like, or what she truly feels herself. She's at her softest around Camellia, due to their long-lasting affection, but she's also at her fiercest when she gets protective. Camellia brings out every aspect of her personality in a way no-one else does... and certainly not a dishonest rival.

Rocket is my absolute favourite addition to the Camellar dynamic because he throws such a gigantic wrench in everything. His relationship with Stellar has none of the safety that Camellia's does, he's all about the thrill of it, feeding into the inexplicable attraction without thought of whether it'll hurt in the end or not. Initially, this is all one-sided on Stellar's side, eventually becoming one-sided on Rocket's, and either way, it brings about a vindictiveness in Camellia she usually isn't prone to, because just as much as Stellar is looking out for her, she's looking out for Stellar - in a variety of ways. She wants what's best for her, but she's also throughly convinced that it won't be anyone other than herself, and she's also right, especially since Rocket's such a prick at the end of the day.

The truth is, the reason Sonic and Shadow work is that they can keep up with each other. Both of their life stories are about becoming as free of a spirit as they can be, tossing aside everything thrown in their path to become confident in themselves and what they stand for. Stellar and Camellia are much the same. From an aesthetics and basic dynamic standpoint, there's more comparisons to draw between them and Sonamy, but in that case, it's entire game's worth of miscommunication and problem avoidance. In the case of Camellar, they're significantly more head-on with everything, they're both incredibly blunt about their affection, it's just that the romance aspect is lost in translation on Stellar's side. Not like that's the part that really matters, it's the mere unbreakable bond. The one that gets a princess desperately reaching out through a collapsing star for its heart. The one that gets a shining star to settle down for a moment.

Closing Thoughts:

This post definitely didn't cover everything. So much about Stellar is whirring around my brain at any given moment, I have no idea how I'd manage to jot it all down in a comprehensible and complete format, but this is what I've got. A post that hopefully shows just how deep my appreciation for Emthim's work goes, and how talented of a creator I believe her to be. Thank you for reading.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Given what recently happened with the billionaire owners of The Washington Post and the Los Angeles Times preventing their editorial boards from endorsing Harris for president, it seems this excellent column by The Guardian's Rebecca Solnit is quite appropriate. Here are some excerpts:

The first thing to say about the hate and scorn currently directed at the mainstream US media is that they worked hard to earn it. They’ve done so by failing, repeatedly, determinedly, spectacularly to do their job, which is to maintain their independence, inform the electorate, and speak truth to power. While the left has long had reasons to dismiss centrist media, and the right has loathed it most when it did do its job well, the moderates who are furious at it now seem to be something new – and a host of former editors, media experts and independent journalists have been going after them hard this summer. Longtime journalist James Fallows declares that three institutions – the Republican party, the supreme court, and the mainstream political press – “have catastrophically failed to ‘meet the moment’ under pressure of [the] Trump era”. Centrist political reformer and columnist Norm Ornstein states that these news institutions “have had no reflection, no willingness to think through how irresponsible and reckless so much of our mainstream press and so many of our journalists have been and continue to be”. Most voters, he says, “have no clue what a second Trump term would actually be like. Instead, we get the same insipid focus on the horse race and the polls, while normalizing abnormal behavior and treating this like a typical presidential election, not one that is an existential threat to democracy.” Lamenting the state of the media recently on X, Jeff Jarvis, another former editor and newspaper columnist, said: “What ‘press’? The broken and vindictive Times? The newly Murdochian Post? Hedge-fund newspaper husks? Rudderless CNN or NPR? Murdoch’s fascist media?”

[See more excerpts under the cut.]

[...] They pursue the appearance of fairness and balance by treating the true and the false, the normal and the outrageous, as equally valid and by normalizing Republicans, especially Donald Trump, whose gibberish gets translated into English and whose past crimes and present-day lies and threats get glossed over. They neglect, again and again, important stories with real consequences. This is not entirely new – in a scathing analysis of 2016 election coverage, the Columbia Journalism Review noted that “in just six days, The New York Times ran as many cover stories about Hillary Clinton’s emails as they did about all policy issues combined in the 69 days leading up to the election” – but it’s gotten worse, and a lot of insiders have gotten sick of it. In July, ordinary people on social media decided to share information about the rightwing Project 2025 and did a superb job of raising public awareness about it, while the press obsessed about Joe Biden’s age and health. NBC did report on this grassroots education effort, but did so using the “both sides are equally valid” framework often deployed by mainstream media, saying the agenda is “championed by some creators as a guide to less government oversight and slammed by others as a road map to an authoritarian takeover of America”. There is no valid case it brings less government oversight. [...] Last winter, the New York Times columnist Paul Krugman, who has a Nobel prize in economics, told Greg Sargent on the latter’s Daily Blast podcast that when he writes positive pieces about the Biden economy, his editor asks “don’t you want to qualify” it; “aren’t people upset by X, Y and Z and shouldn’t you be acknowledging that?” [...] It’s hard to gloat over the decline of these dinosaurs of American media, when a free press and a well-informed electorate are both crucial to democracy. The alternatives to the major news outlets simply don’t reach enough readers and listeners, though the non-profit investigative outfit ProPublica and progressive magazines such as the New Republic and Mother Jones, are doing a lot of the best reporting and commentary. [...] A host of brilliant journalists young and old, have started independent newsletters, covering tech, the state of the media, politics, climate, reproductive rights and virtually everything else, but their reach is too modest to make them a replacement for the big newspapers and networks. The great exception might be historian Heather Cox Richardson, whose newsletter and Facebook followers give her a readership not much smaller than that of the Washington Post. The tremendous success of her sober, historically grounded (and footnoted!) news summaries and reflections bespeaks a hunger for real news.

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

[marvelstoriesepic]

✿ 2k Drabble Challenge ✿

Welcome, my sweet beans!! 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

This is the option of my poll from a week ago that received the most votes, so here we are now. I'm so excited for this!!

I've been feeling a little stuck in a writing slump lately, and I'm hoping this sweet little challenge will help me shake that off and get the words flowing again.

I've had such a strong start into this year and I don’t want it to end yet. This might be exactly the push I need to keep going - and I am so looking forward to creating something with and for you!! ♡

Thank you so much to everyone who voted and congratulated me for this incredible milestone!! If your choice didn’t win, don’t worry. During this poll I've been thinking about doing a writing challenge myself, so I guess you will get to see one within this year. And I know myself, so I believe I will still run a WIP poll soon because I often hit that moment where I don’t know what project to work on next.

Below you will find everything you need to know, how to send a prompt, the guidelines, and a mix-and-match pairing list to help inspire your ideas! Can’t wait to see what you come up with!

Divider by @saradika ♡

What is this?

To celebrate reaching 2k followers I will be writing drabbles (1-2k words) based on prompts that you send me. ❁ ✿ ❀

All of these stories will feature Bucky x Reader

How to participate:

You can leave your prompt in either:

✿ The comments of this post

✿ My inbox

Rules and Guidelines:

✿ I only write for Bucky Barnes.

✿ I'm sorry for this, but to participate I would like you to be a follower of my blog. This is a follower celebration post, after all, and I will only take prompts from my sweethearts. This is not meant to make anyone follow me, but I think it’s fair that way.

✿ I will not write smut, non-con, dub-con, or anything dark - please keep prompts SFW and respectful. It can be slightly suggestive but I will not go into details in that regard. (And please nothing about Bucky and reader being Exes because that is triggering for me as weird as it sounds)

✿ One prompt per follower, but my sweet mutuals can send up to three (because I love y'all and your brains)

✿ Prompts can be a vibe, a scenario, a dynamic, a little scene idea, a quote, anything you creative people come up with.

✿ You are welcome to request:

-> a small scene for a fic of mine that’s already posted

-> something I haven’t explored yet, choosing from the list below

-> something else entirely (your own idea)

✿ Feel free to provide as much detail as you wish regarding what you’d like me to write, but please remember that the story will (likely) not exceed 2k words.

✿ The deadline to send me prompts is April 20th [12pm (EST)/6pm (CEST)]

✿ I'm really not sure how many requests will come in - it could be a handful, or it could be a flood - so I may shorten or extend the deadline depending on what feels right for me and how things go. I will keep you all updated, of course!

Mix & Match AUs for Inspiration:

Pick an AU for Bucky + one for Reader (or make up your own)! Combine them however you want, and give me a prompt to go with it.

You do not have to give me a pairing at all, or choose one from this list! This is simply to provide you with a few suggestions and perhaps spurt some ideas. If you prefer to create something yourself, then you are, of course, very welcome to do that ♡

If you have some more ideas for those pairings, then I would happily take those and add them here. Please let me know in the comments, so if I should miss something, others can see it too.

𑁍 Bucky AUs 𑁍

✿ Mechanic ✿ Lumberjack ✿ Tattoo Artist ✿ Bartender ✿ Florist ✿ Veteran ✿ Store Owner ✿ Customer ✿ Biker ✿ Delivery Guy ✿ Avenger ✿ Librarian ✿ Athlete ✿ College student/athlete ✿ Park Ranger ✿ Cowboy ✿ Thief ✿ Bandit ✿ CEO ✿ Roofer ✿ Ranch owner ✿ Neighbor ✿ Roommate ✿ Doctor ✿ Pilot ✿ Shop Owner ✿ Pirate ✿ Knight ✿ Prince ✿ Bodyguard ✿ Flight Attendant ✿ Photographer ✿ Security Guard ✿ Personal Trainer ✿ Boxer ✿ FBI Agent ✿ Detective ✿ Frat ✿ Police Officer ✿ Market Stand Owner/Helper ✿ Outlaw ✿ Racer ✿ Babysitter ✿ Childhood friend ✿ Rival ✿ Stripper ✿ Best friend's brother ✿ Hopeless Romantic ✿ Grumpy ✿ Sunshine ✿ Fake boyfriend ✿ Modern ✿ Life Guard ✿ Bounty Hunter ✿ Fugitive ✿ Farmer ✿ Farm/Ranch Hand ✿ Sheriff ✿ Fuckboy ✿ Gym Trainer ✿ Chef ✿ Ex-Military ✿ Husband ✿ Archangel ✿ Witness to […] ✿ Baker's son ✿ Rancher ✿ DJ ✿ Musician ✿ Actor ✿ Movie Maker ✿ Lawyer ✿ Spy ✿ best friend ✿ 40s ✿ Winter Soldier

𑁍 Reader AUs 𑁍

✿ Cheerleader ✿ Mechanic ✿ Barista ✿ Volunteer at […] ✿ Neighbor ✿ College student/athlete ✿ […] Student ✿ Sorority girl ✿ Roommate ✿ Florist ✿ Musician ✿ (Hobby) Singer ✿ Therapist ✿ Librarian ✿ Nurse ✿ Vet ✿ Doctor ✿ Witch ✿ Nymph ✿ Healer ✿ Shop/Store Owner ✿ Customer ✿ Seamstress ✿ Time Traveler ✿ FBI Agent ✿ Detective ✿ Police Officer ✿ Personal Assistent ✿ Racer ✿ Civilian ✿ Widow ✿ SHIELD Agent ✿ Journalist ✿ VIP ✿ Babysitter ✿ Rival ✿ Enhanced ✿ Pet Owner ✿ Market Stand Owner/Helper ✿ ✿ Villain ✿ Hopeless Romantic ✿ Grumpy ✿ Sunshine ✿ Fake girlfriend ✿ Pilot ✿ Flight attendant ✿ Bounty Hunter ✿ Fugitive ✿ Medic ✿ Bartender ✿ Waitress ✿ Ranch Owner's Daughter ✿ Model ✿ Gym Trainer ✿ Wedding Planner ✿ Teacher ✿ Divorced ✿ Married ✿ Wife ✿ Childhood friends ✿ Witness to […] ✿ Princess ✿ Maid ✿ Baker's daughter ✿ Horse Whisperer ✿ Nail tech ✿ Event Planner ✿ Stripper ✿ Farmer ✿ Rancher ✿ Siren ✿ Underground Hacker ✿ Bounty Hunter ✿ Vigilante ✿ Actress ✿ Spy ✿ Servant ✿ Pirate

After the Challenge:

Once the deadline has passed and I've finished writing, I'll post a Masterlist of all the drabbles so everything is in one place for you to read through and hopefully enjoy! ♡ ♡

This gives you time to put thought into your prompt, and it gives me the time I need to write.

If you have any questions, please please please ask me. There may have been something I missed mentioning, or you’re not sure about a certain point. I'm always here to answer.

Thank you for everything! I'm so grateful to be in this space with you all. I love you, my honeybuns!! Stay save and heathy!! I can’t wait to see what you send me. 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

[frankendykes-monster]

James Gunn has stressed from the minute he took over DC Studios that no superhero movie under his watch would go into production without a completed script. Now, in a new interview with Rolling Stone, the filmmaker attributed the so-called dying film industry to Hollywood’s fatal mistake of always making blockbusters before their scripts are officially completed.

“I do believe that the reason why the movie industry is dying is not because of people not wanting to see movies,” Gunn said. “It’s not because of home screens getting so good. The number-one reason is because people are making movies without a finished screenplay.”

Gunn noted that DC Studios recently “killed a project” because the script just couldn’t get to the right place, explaining: “Everybody wanted to make the movie. It was greenlit, ready to go. The screenplay wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t do a movie where the screenplay’s not good. And we’ve been really lucky so far, because ‘Supergirl’s’ script was so fucking good off the bat. And then ‘Lanterns’ came in, and the script was so fucking good. ‘Clayface,’ same thing. So fucking good. So we have these scripts that we’ve been really lucky with or wise in our choices or whatever the combination is.” Another thing Gunn said that is working in his favor is that there is no corporate mandate from Warner Bros. to churn out a certain number of film and television projects at DC Studios. Gunn is an alum of Marvel Studios, having directed three “Guardians of the Galaxy” movies and a Christmas special, and he noted that Disney’s mandate to increase Marvel’s output amid the launch of Disney+ had a negative impact on the larger universe. Disney CEO Bob Iger has openly admitted to making this mistake.

[...]

“Batman’s my biggest issue in all of DC right now, personally,” Gunn told Rolling Stone. “And it’s not — I’m not writing Batman, but I am working with the writer of Batman and trying to get it right, because he’s incredibly important to DC, as is Wonder Woman. So outside of the stuff that I’m doing in the projects that are actively going, our two priorities are finishing our Wonder Woman and our Batman scripts.” “Batman has to have a reason for existing, right?” he continued. “So Batman can’t just be ‘Oh, we’re making a Batman movie because Batman’s the biggest character in all of Warner Bros.,’ which he is. But because there’s a need for him in the DCU and a need that he’s not exactly the same as Matt [Reeves’] Batman. But yet he’s not a campy Batman. I’m not interested in that. I’m not interested in a funny, campy Batman, really. So we’re dealing with that. I think I have a way in, by the way. I think I really know what it’s — I just am dealing with the writer to make sure that we can make it a reality.” Gunn said developing a Wonder Woman movie is “actually easier for me, because there haven’t been so many infinite portrayals of Wonder Woman — definitely not in movies, but really anywhere — that there have been of Batman.” “Every single Batman story has been told,” Gunn concluded. “It seems like half the comics that have come out of DC over the past 30 years have Batman in them. He’s the most famous superhero in the world. And people love him because he’s interesting, but also having so much of him out there can also make him boring. So how do you create that property that’s fun to watch?”

[thedreamerwithaheavyheart]

Pick a Jungkook!

What would a relationship with your bias look like??

Pile 1 (The Emperor, 9 of Pentacles, The tower Reversed) (you: strength, bias: 3 of Swords, the energy between: Queen of Cups)

Oh! This is actually quite amazing! The Emperor flew out soooo fast! There are set boundaries in this relationship. It’s stable and your bias makes you feel super secure. There will be a lot of abundance between you two! It may be from their end, your end or both. I will say there seems to be some delay or resistance to change. I sense that they may be apprehensive about you at first. But regardless you guys love to enjoy the luxuries of life! Just make sure you maintain your financial independence. Or you guys may both be financially stable and independent. It may be why you guys are so solid!

When you guys are together you feel confident! You are very sure of yourself in this relationship. At the very least you are confident in your companionship and your ability to work through any troubles that may come your way. For your bias on the other hand they may feel insecure regarding finances. They may have been taken advantage of, monetarily speaking. But the energy between you two is the Queen of Cups, so you guys may have come to an understanding about it. You two are very healing for each other, and you especially heal whatever previous trauma they may have had regarding that aspect of life. You guys give each other the freedom to just BE. The spicy time between you guys may be just as wild, care free, & PRIMAL. Oooooooo.

Pile 2(The Moon,The Hanged Man , the Hermit Reversed ) (you:2 of Swords , bias:5 of Pentacles , the energy between:7 of Swords)

Oh dear! Just based on your energy it’s giving you might have to choose between your career and personal life and honestly…I don’t think it would be worth it. I’m getting projection his struggles on to you. There will be manipulation and deceit in this connection. And that’s just from your energies towards each other.

For the actual cards I pulled… the moon came out sooooo. Lies, deception etc. the hermit reversed is not taking the time to really analyze… and the hanged man symbolizes the breaking of patterns.

I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…. Ur bias is toxic. And that may be your type OR you tend to attract a lot of those. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE look into what people present to you. It’s okay to question the integrity of things/people sometimes. ESPECIALLY when you notice habits. I’m hearing “stay vigilant”. Don’t take what lovers say at face value.

During spicy time your bias may be super dominant…but combined with your reading…I wouldn’t 😬

Pile 3(Page of Pentacles Reversed,4 of Swords,5 of Swords ) (you:8 of Pentacles , bias:The World , the energy between: 10 of Wands)

To be honest…it seems like work takes the front seat in your relationship. However, despite this, you gout try really hard to make it work. It will definitely be draining though. So please take care of yourself.

Regardless, you are committed to your bias. You guys reallllllyyyyy go out of your way to make sure you’re there for each other. Very diligent. Your bias believes you are everything they’ve ever wanted in a person. They are DOWN BADDDD. So it’s really not that there are no feelings. There are a ton of feelings. However, it may not work out in the long run due to the outside pressure and strain out on the relationship.

As for the spicy time…your bias makes sure it’s fair. It’s a mutual ordeal for them to make sure it’s a comfortable environment so there's room for you both to explore everything. You both want to discover all the different parts of yourselves and each other.

Okkkk. Well please send in future requests please & Thank you so much for reading!!!❤️❤️❤️

[averys-nightmare-zone]

since landing is closing down soon, i decided to take a quick break from SUPERSTRUCTURE (although i will be back don't you worry two fans) and made some fashion moodboards for the 14 fears from the magnus archives to accompany this post there will be some notes and insight on each collage under the cut.

the buried: the buried was really underutilized in the podcast imo. some of my favorite episodes revolved around the buried like lost john's cave and we all ignore the pit. i really hope this did it justice since jonny sims did not.

the corruption: oh my god this one was so hard to make. my google search history is full of terms like "bug infested dress", "moldy clothing" and "yucky fashion" the corruption girlies really seemed to like my last post so i felt obligated to get it right. i think i did okay.

the dark: making a black on black collage look decent is really hard 😭 I was originally going to go victorian for this one but ended up doing nu goth instead since I thought victorian fit a lot better with the end.

the desolation: this is one of my favorites. there's somthing so satisfying about combining ashy greys and black with orange it just tickles my brain. other than that, i don't really have any notes

the end: as mentioned earlier, i went with victorian mourning wear for the end. i mean queen victoria herself was in mourning and only wore black for forty years. that era is so synonymous with death it only felt fair to work its customs and fashion into my end board.

the eye: eye avatars are legally required to wear academic fashion. it just comes with the job description. i don't make the rules. have fun being jonathan sims

the flesh: this one really took me down a rabbit hole. first:, i could only find those anti-vegan shirts that your unemployed uncle wears to the family barbecue and then i came across this fashion designer and spent like an hour on her shop trying to figure out how she got her clothes to look like that. after that it took me another two hours to find all of the accessories. pinterest has been both my best friend and worst enemy over the course of this project.

the hunt: i am so sorry the supernatural gas leakage returned to my home when i made this and I age regressed into being 15 again. when i was making this i pictured it more as the trevor and julia flavor of the hunt instead of say, daisy. god breast america.

the lonely: this one was pretty easy to make once i got a handle on the color scheme. the aesthetic of the lonely has always striken me as a romanticization of the melancholy. think wanderer above the sea of fog. So i gave this one all the things i would romantasize about my life at my loneliest, which is why there's a teacup and a heart locket. the book was also a part of that, but it also doubles as a recreation of a leitner by theponderingalpaca on reddit.

the slaughter: yeah yeah i know the slaughter is supposed to be about war as well as murder, but forgive me for not making a fashion collage about military uniforms. that's really boring. i had just watched woodstock '99 before i made this though and decided to go more for that angry punk/metalhead fashion that korn was wearing in that concert. them and limp biskit are the closest we'll ever get to irl grifters bone.

the spiral: i made this moodboard twice. i know its crazy that the fear meant to represent insanity is hard to pin down, but i think i did it better the second time around. the first one read too much as regular kidcore/decora for my taste.

the stranger: i had to do this one last. i could not for the life of me figure out how to make a circus/uncanny fashion board without just doing clown fashion. i'm still not entirely sure how i feel about how it turned out, but at least the masks are cool.

the vast: vast avatars rise up!! this is a mike crew fan blog and i only wanted to base the fashion around him. he's in the top three list of guys i'm autistic about with elliott stardew valley and daniel powell from archive 81.

the web: not much to say here except if you are a web avatar you have to wear a cunty dress. it is simply non negotiable

thank you to @artmadval for giving me the idea to do this with your amazing fashion archives art, along with everyone else who went through all my yapping to get here. love yall!

[putschki1969]

Hi Puts, I saw dramas news. TBH i'm totally disagree with all of those idea about "sides" "betrayal" etc concepts. From my perspective as an asian there's big difference in culture stuffs. Everyone of them, YKJ as well are just one musician. (Being able to live without messing with JP train rush hour are blessing enough LOL). they pursue nothing more than Arts. I think they has much less "self" concept nor "possession". I believe YKJ expect Kalafina's songs to be 気働き as well. :D

Hi there!!

I am not sure I completely understand what you want to convey with your message but I think I am getting the gist of it so I can hopefully provide a suitable response.

I also received a reply from @toshiroukajiura on THIS POST. It's very similar in nature to the above ask so I thought I'd include it here and just answer both in one go.

Your assumption with Yuki is so sad. Yuki kajiura is not a manager. Remember that. Hikaru is under a different management. And Kajiura invited Hikaru a lot of times. Kajiura is a soundtrack composer. Remember that.

All right, let's go...〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

All of this sounds like the two of you are trying to make excuses for Yuki. I don't know why you would "disagree" or consider it "sad" when I am simply pointing out the reality of things. Despite me saying that I wasn't sure if I could be unbiased, I think I've actually made quite fair assessments of the situation, especially in the above post. I tried my best to remain rational and look at everything from an objective point of view. Yuki Kajiura is not infallible and certainly not exempt from criticism, there's nothing wrong about pointing out certain problematic behaviours.

Common themes among those coming to Yuki's defense seem to be

that this is just a cultural thing that cannot be changed and is horribly misunderstood.

that Yuki wouldn't ever do anything petty like this because all she cares about is her art/music.

that she couldn't possibly be pulling the strings because she is in no position to do that.

I would argue that you are mistaken on all three accounts.

Re 1) Yes, their actions are indeed heavily influenced by cultural peculiarities, there's no doubt about that. None of the things we see them do are out of the ordinary for the Japanese entertainment industry. But just because these things are rooted in culture, doesn't automatically make them okay or provide an excuse. The non-confrontational approach with an emphasis on shunning, avoidance and denial, the continuous attempts at keeping things under wraps and sweeping all possible issues under the rug, the passive-aggressive behaviour towards each other with no direct insults but lots of subtle and targeted mini-attacks. Basically mean-girl tactics up to eleven. Very toxic, unhealthy and counterproductive.

This is the essence of the feud between Team Space Craft and Team Yuki. And yes, I keep calling it a "feud" for a reason. It is not a natural thing that should just be shrugged off as harmless. It is a long-lasting dispute between two parties fueled by wounded pride and fragile sensibilities. I have no doubt that Team Yuki was wronged at some point in all of this and I am sure that Team Space Craft has also felt slighted on multiple occasions but throughout all these years, both parties have just stubbornly kept this feud alive, unwilling to make any concessions that would finally resolve it. So yeah, even though I wish it wasn't the case, there are clearly "sides" in this feud and certain associations are seen as "betrayal" and get reprimanded as such. To deny this would just be ignorant.

Re 2) I used to think that Yuki prioritised her craft beyond anything else but recent events (in combination with some of her past decisions) have led me to believe otherwise. She basically abandoned Kalafina (arguably her best artistic project) all those years ago when she decided to leave Space Craft and follow Mori. Was it her prerogative to leave? Of course, she surely had her own interests in mind and thought it was for the best (it probably was, at least for her personally) but the fact remains that Kalafina and its members have had to bear the brunt of this decision and their interests have mostly been ignored. It must have been very obvious to Yuki that her departure would mean an end to Kalafina. With the girls not willing to continue the group without her but also unable to just follow her and revive Kalafina under Yuki's new management, they were faced with a dead-end and forced to make very hard decisions. So we know that the Kalafina project and its members did not mean enough to Yuki to try and arrange herself with the higher-ups at Space Craft. If we assume that all the rumours from back in the day contain at least a grain of truth, then Mori and Yuki did not leave because of some inconceivable or unforgivable thing being done to them, it was mostly petty stuff. For this reason, it is still baffling to me that they couldn't have found a way to navigate around their issues. While I would not expect the execs at Space Craft to have art and the interests of their employees as their first priority, I had hoped that Yuki at least would've felt a stronger commitment to those things, especially considering that the Kalafina project was her baby and the girls gave everything to bring her vision to life. But alas, that wasn't the case.

And even now when she claims that she's tried so much to make a Kalafina reunion possible but sadly with no success, I cannot help but wonder what exactly it was that she could have tried. It probably wasn't a proper attempt at reconciliation. Because let's be real here, I am sure Space Craft are difficult to deal with and they certainly have a bunch of outrageous demands but what could they possibly want that Yuki wouldn't be able to give them? They used to work together just fine with shared rights, shared revenues, etc. I find it hard to believe that something similar can't be recreated now (with different parameters and a little effort from both sides). Yuki is at the top of her career whereas Space Craft have pretty much reached the bottom of the barrel. Why not just be the better person, take pity on the petty old guys at Space Craft and give them what they want? There's no way that Space Craft aren't willing to negotiate something, I mean, at this point they have no other choice. They are probably not smart enough to know that they shouldn't be greedy with their demands in their lousy position but then again, their future existence is most likely contingent on Yuki making large concessions so I kinda understand that they would have rather audacious demands. My interpretation of all of this is that Yuki deliberately decides not to reach out to Space Craft due to being petty herself. If your pride is wounded, you will do a lot of things out of spite, even going as far as to sacrifice your own project.

After Keiko's exclusion from YKL, one has to once again wonder, what is more important to Yuki. Her craft and the quality of her music or her wounded pride? As I have explained in previous posts, I believe that this was mostly Yuki's decision and just a natural progression of the usual shunning process. I am willing to be proven wrong on the matter, maybe it turns out that Space Craft actually have entrapped Keiko in a super restrictive contract but for the time being, more signs point towards Yuki being behind this exclusion. Meaning, she would rather let go of the backbone of her music, instead of finding a solution with Space Craft.

By the way, I was never trying to insinuate that Yuki was completely indifferent to the members' problems. I think she does care about them, at least to some extent. We've seen her provide support on some occasions to Keiko as well as Hikaru and she has given them work opportunities but most of that was actually in her own interest so make of that whatever you will.

Re 3) I think some people may be underestimating the power she currently holds. Even back in her Space Craft days, she was left to her own devices and was pretty much given free creative rein by her manager Mori. She may not have been in charge of all organisational decisions but aside from that, she didn't have to deal with any restrictions. After leaving Space Craft, she founded "Fiction Junction Music", her very own management company. She is the head of this company so in a way, she is in fact a manager and more or less her own boss. Looking at the credit pages, FictionJunction Music is always listed as Yuki's management alongside Highway Star so we can assume they have some sort of shared management arrangement. When you check the Highway Star homepage, you'll notice that Yuki isn't listed under their regular clients, she is listed as "partner artist", this implies a peer to peer relationship. It's fair to come to the conclusion that she is the one who calls the shots when it comes to her activities and that the agency is merely there to help with formalities or to find some new jobs for her. Do they get a say in her decisions, yeah, probably but Mori strikes me as the type of guy who would gladly support Yuki's wish to exclude Keiko for aligning herself with Space Craft.

[ryuzakemo128]

Heart Of Stone Part Three

Pairing: Dbf! Joel Miller x Female Reader

Trope: Enemies 2 Lovers | Age Gap

Content Warnings: Grief, Loss, Drug and Alcohol mentioned heavily, swearing, cussing, vaping is mentioned. Your mother is a bitch. More so than usual. Female reader is getting more unhinged in her anger?

Word Count: 988

"I don't think there is anything you can do to fix this or anything about this. A snake is what you are and the blindfold comes off finally. There is nothing left for you here. Take your leave now and forever." Your lips are curled into a thin lipped snarl. The grow in your throat audible this time.

You are tired of holding back for the sake of your mother’s supposed conformity implaced upon your own heart.

Joel shifts uncomfortable under your gaze. You. The version of you that you always managed to hide beneath the polite facade has no leash. No false sincerity tied to you or your words. 

No heed is taken. Nor do you want to 'take heed' either.

This is her punishment. Every moment now. You are keen to remind her. That she had chosen this path and she must suffer through it all.

A snake with Venom is an apt choice of words to describe you now. All this hate inside you is building.

Building you into a venomous snake.

An incredibly dangerous thing.

Unleashed. Untethered. Unbothered by their feelings.

Facts don't care for the feelings of others. Now you didn't care for their feelings either.

If they couldn't handle it. They were free to leave. You weren't going to tell them or force them to stay. They were more than welcome to leave in a huff anytime.

Dangerously beautiful. Esoteric. Alluring.

For all the right and wrong reasons.

Seductive. Femme Fatale. Wynorrific.

In ways, he will never get close to. Never again.

Never gonna find a love quite like yours.

You haven't been able to sleep well lately. Your mother's presence an unwelcome intrusion to your meticulous routine. The same one you adjusted to your own sense of grieving.

You can't sleep longer than six hours at most before you are already awake again.

It used to be five hours. In the days after your father passed on. The details of his passing etched into your subconscious like a hammer and chisel to the marble surface of your mind.

Tired. So tired of everything.

Willing to hurt everyone and anyone. Perhaps the word willing is too light in this particular context. Or perhaps it wasn't the right word to describe the level of anger trapped inside your soul.

Perhaps you were far too different for them to understand in the ways you wanted to be. Too different. Too unlike your mother in terms of not quite feminine like her or not quite masculine like your father.

An in-between. A merging combination of the two sides.

No miracle came to your door. They never do. Miracles are for those who need comfort in their repulsion.

In the idea that their ideals were the only ones that mattered, and to dam the ones who chose to reject them.

Why should you apologise? What did you have to apologise for?

You weren't going to console the same woman who selfishly tore your entire life apart like it meant nothing to you.

The adults pay no heed when a child suffers through the perils and dismay of a parent's failing marriage. It's always them who gets the backlash for speaking up about how it affects them.

They are told to suffer because dam them. Damn their feelings on the matter. May they suffer in silence. They deserve to be seen and not heard.

Adults should know better than to force their problems onto their offspring. Adults who deny, deny, deny their own issues have no business raising children. To project their own issues onto them selfishly.

To place a mirror in front of their faces is what you have fully intended. They had nothing to hide from you. You have every intention on using that against them both.

Any eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Fair is fair. If they didn't like it? Maybe they should have thought better than to come back to this house again.

You couldn't wait to find a way to slice the proverbial knife inside, splitting the bone of his spine. Oh, the joy you would have to be on the brink of insatiable insanity.

Sure. You were no butcher. Sure, you had your heart set on a fine arts degree. But who are they to deny you this delicious new hobby you wish to partake in?

Can't mean nothing if you were so fucking eager to make sure he learns from his fucking mistakes.

More than a little eager.

The clenched jaw.

The fury in your eyes.

You weren't planning this.

You don't plan how your anger comes out to play either.

You were and always have been a beast wrapped inside the depths of human skin. Starved of affection. Thriving in utter darkness. Proud of the absurd amount of wrath you are about to wrought.

Joel had more of your animosity to contend with in the coming days. You were a far more gracious hostess than he had originally anticipated. Your house rules were the ones your mother had trouble swallowing.

The opportunity to revel in saying 'my house, my rules' were a delight, bring much needed glee. The kind you intent to have all to yourself. You didn’t intend on sharing such a lovely thing.

Joel and your mother are a nuanced nuisance to your inner hunger. The kind that you didn’t anticipate in having in the depths of yourself.

Your mother wasn't given an inch. If you did. She would take more than just your sense of self too. And she had taken more from you than you could ever get back.

There is no point in telling her either. She’ll only deny, deny, deny it all.

The animosity will grow as intended and sooner or later your mother will be forced to confront the kind of monster she really is deep on the inside like you always intended to force her to see.

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune