#every character is colour coded i love it

[elle-p]

[somebody-already-took-this-url]

Omg babe The Imperfects just unlocked a new scrungly! I know how you love a pathetic gay little science man 😋

[tragedynoir]

— introducing 009: CELESTIAL BODIES + [ link ]

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[not-equippedforthis]

really love characters who have varied panic responses. kirk stating himself that he does not panic outright, externally, not in high-stress dangerous situations, but instead becomes tense and level like a wound string, on-guard: mostly because his role as captain necessitates that he maintain level rationality even when facing potential death as his training as 'the guy who tells you what to do when shit hits the fan' requires, but also because his childhood experiences taught him early that drowning in the desperate haziness of panic won't help you survive. especially as kirk already follows his intuition so deeply. he learned to grasp and contort the feeling. spock is the main person who represses his emotions, of course, but kirk does it to those deep-set, personal ones (this includes how he doesn't reveal anything truly personal about himself willingly 90% of the time, only what others already know/shallow anecdotes) in a much more subtle way that's really interesting to me. certified expert at avoiding the subject as long as he isnt caught out on the lie. professional bluffer.

in terms of past or parents we dont know much!!! hes known as the heart-on-his-sleeve guy!!! like yes he yells, he gets irritated, excited, hes a whirlwind of quick-thinking and plans and intuition, he goes out of his way to connect with his crew and shows it, when he puts on a little act or bluff he puts his heart into it and clearly enjoys the dramatics so much, at times he wears his heart on his sleeve, he laughs openly and is honest to spock about what he means to him, he's very sun-coded to me in a burning, passionate way, always intertwined with the stars and seeking them out, but when it comes to genuine deep-set turmoil? we dont actually know all that much about him??? hes so full of emotion and character (i love fics where spock characterises jim's mind/bond as a whirl of colour and sensations, hes a quick thinker!!! intuitive!! lively!!!) and yet its still so outwardly surface level. tarsus iv gets mentioned like twice? so especially here where kirk gets briefly jumpscared by the creature, because like:

its subtle but his eyes. his eyesss!!!!! kirk commands with his emotions but there's always some sort of level of control to it, or he transforms them into something that spurs on others or uses them to ascertain a goal: seeing unguarded fear/distress in his eyes even if its faint and brief (in this instance) makes me go insane every single time. like!!! its such a small moment!!! he isnt even panicking!!! really, he just got jumpscared!!! its insignificant!!!!!!! but seeing a two-second flash of actual, naked apprehension is just...oughhh,,,,,,,,,

oh god, and dont even get me started on the galileo seven episode where he assumes a tense level-headedness throughout the whole thing, irritated and apprehensive but not panicking, making sure he maintains intelligent rationality, even when he has to leave them behind, but when spock and the crew are confirmed safe and the bridge is occupied the camera pans to him and his eyes look like they're fucking watering and he's so achingly relieved. don't even talk to me. im. fuck.

he shows so so much but at the same time reveals so little.

[hoverboards-and-dragons]

Me when I'm so entirely normal about this character, he so queer and neurodivergent coded<3

Your honour his religious trauma are his daddy issues, i consider him not responsible for anything he's ever done

Say what you will about the Hellaverse's colour palette but there is power in evoking an incredible emotional response by making a character's eyes like a little more orange than yellow

I wanted God to be quite a loving and gentle entity but also very motive driven, He did make these things for an intended purpose and He's not upset when they stop being useful, they just aren't a part of plan anymore so He moves on, tools break after a certain amount of uses, they get warped into new shapes, put em aside, get out something else and continue

and a favourite tool gets worn the quickest

God is surprisingly physically affectionate with archangels but it is getting hugged by mist, idk maybe that is comfortable compared to how touch adverse the rest of heavenborn culture is

Anyway both Lucifer and God have fun dialogue quirks that I wanna talk about, they both have to do with capitalizing nouns and pronouns in reference to Him

God's committing crimes against English grammar by only capitalizing references to Himself and structuring the rest of the punctuation around that, God said "the sentence starts when I show up"

Every character will inherently use capital nouns and pronouns with God in dialogue, except for Lucifer who was assigned a terminal case of disrespectful at birth and has to consciously choose to use capitals, hence him using "(Y)ou" at first but dropping into lowercase after being startled

him wanting to show his Father respect and also paying enough attention to remember about it are 2 pretty rare events especially to overlap so you won't catch him doing it very often

[amelie-isnt-french]

I'll bite.

I need to know about the red string conspiracy doc.

Sounds very fun

I have been WAITING for this. Get ready for the combined brainrot of @alice-apparently and I, you poor soul. Now, listen up, 'cause we’ve got a labrynthine twisted task of a tale to tell, and if you don’t keep up, you might get lost :)

And obviously: spoilers for tmagp. don't keep reading if you're behind 🫵🏼

First things first: anyone currently descending into paranoia? we're already there, poster children of paranoia-land, that's us. May I present the title of the wonderful conspiracy doc -

There's also a TMA conspiracy doc Ali made, fully colour- episode- and entity-coordinated. It's like 24k words and not even fully done. don't worry about it.

Which is why we're going to be super normal and low-key about the Protocol red string doc right?

of course.

As you can see above, our collaboration relies on Ali's colour coding and her making nice, structured observations of possibly important things, while I provide the Latin and cheer her on. Balance is important in a marriage.

Also included in this all-round package: character info, quotes, etc.

I've since moved on from my "Gwen is evil" theory because I simply love socially awkward, abrasive characters who are good at their job a little too much (nervously shuffles Jonathan Sims, the Archivist, further behind my back). Still the hottest bitch at the OIAR, don't @ me.

Also also, in this house we love Alice Dyer and don't trust her any further than we can throw her. what is UP with all your comments Alice? What do you know???

Anyway.

But Ames, you say, didn't you promise quotes? I did, and I'll do you one better: tmagp quotes with additional obnoxious commentary from yours truly and Ali

If you'd like to see Ali lose her shit over the red canary implications (which I fully support), hop over to her tumblr @alice-apparently and give it a read. It's delightful.

Right. Moving on from the random screenshots. Basic outline of part one of the paranoia board is a section for every episode. Ali is listening to ep7 as I write this and having a great time (not), so there's not much in the ep7 section, except for this:

Thoughts and prayers, love, thoughts and prayers.

And FINALLY, my favourite section.

This is the speculation part, time line puzzle and colour coding reference, but my current favourite is this:

She's trying to reverse-engineer the case coding in tmagp, a noble cause. Godspeed, Ali, bc that is too many numbers for my silly little brain. I only excel at criticising stupid horror protagonists aka Personal Screening:

That's all for now.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, and to send you all off, one last silly comment from me to you and the universe:

Bye!

[qwertyprophecy]

Update on The Dark Queen of Mortholme!

Phase one is now essentially completed for art, code and dialogue. Onwards to phase two; because every good boss fight needs that part where the boss gets unhinged and gains a whole new set of attacks.

I too have chosen to be unhinged and made a design for the Queen's final form that gobbles up animation work hours like nothing I've done before with pixel art.

Concept sketches under the cut:

Initially I didn't have any ideas beyond doing a more monstrous design that amps up the Queen's features and takes cues from the shapes and colours of her original spell animations. However after writing the dialogue leading up to the transformation I immediately landed on a specific concept.

The transformation is an outburst. It's a manifestation of the Queen's terror and defiance towards her approaching death. She's unraveling, and in doing so she's channeling more of her innate violent power that she doesn't usually let out. She's essentially been having a long argument with the Hero about who they believe they are. Thus far she's gotten by being all smug and detached, but now she's losing and forced to reveal more of her true self to continue.

So her final form's design should convey 1. an outburst, and 2. the unraveling of a false front. Her base design's spikes, hair and skirt all erupt out into the wilder shape language of her shadowy spell-tendrils. They can handily be used to draw the eye from all directions towards the center of her chest, where I wanted to have this cracking pattern, like something hidden inside her is coming out. It's bright as if blindingly powerful, yet the cracks make her seem more damaged and vulnerable than her base form.

Continuing with the theme of an inner self showing through, the skirt's interior is also more visible than before. The flared jellyfish-esque shape connects with the deep sea vibe of the tentacles and contributes to the drama of a nonhuman silhouette.

A big thing for the silhouette is of course the massive hands. What's the thematic explanation for those? Absolutely nothing, I just think they look cool and dangerous.

Finally, lot of asymmetry was also introduced, both to increase the visual interest of such a large sprite, and to make her look like she's really losing it.

---

A note on animating this monstrosity: I've been trying to come up with a whole lot of cheats to keep a complex sprite like this as animated as possible without spending the rest of my life making this game. Early on I decided she should float, just so her idle animation can also be a moving one.

Secondly, the sprite is cut up to pieces so that I can keep reusing the loop of the writhing tentacles while moving her hands, for example. This is not something I like doing because in believable animation, motion in one part of the body always affects the other parts of the body. Treating a character as one entire whole when animating will make them feel more tangible, but alas, it's a compromise to avoid spending a hundred years in pixel-pushing jail. Like, I would love to see those tendrils flutter around behind her as she swoops across the room for her attacks, but... it'll be a lot more reasonable to move her as little as possible and instead add oomph to her attacks with some effects animations.

Anyways thank you for reading about monstrosity, she might be a pain in the butt to move but she brings me joy

[hoedamn-eron]

bluey!

Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.

Warnings: As always, Nathan is a warning. No offence to Miss Rachel or anyone who uses Miss Rachel (I’ve personally never watched her, just needed Nathan to be a dick). Hints of infertility (from this episode of Bluey). Teeny tiny mention of parental anxiety of meeting milestones (from this episode of Bluey). Not proofread this time. Word count: 1,238 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Yet another self indulgent fic about dad!Nathan. Set in the same universe as Shut Up, Kid, but can be read as a stand-alone. This also was only meant to be a quick one shot but it turned out to be over 1k 😂.

Nathan Bateman was a fucking genius.

He built the code for Blue Book when he was thirteen years old.

He used to think himself a God. He could build realistic androids, for Christ's sake (not anymore, not since ‘The Incident’).

And because of this, he finds it hard to ‘switch off’. His brain was always moving a million miles a minute, constantly filled with thoughts of how to improve the company, and now that he’s a dad, it just added another thing to think about. And he isn’t complaining about having to think about Silas – he loves the kid, would do anything for him – but at the same time...it is just another thing to keep his brain busy.

Like today.

You come walking into his office (the door is open most days now), holding Silas on your hip, his favourite pacifier in his mouth, and carrying as many toys as you could in your other hand.

“Can you watch him for an hour, please?”

You see Nathan’s shoulders slump before you’ve even finished asking, and you ignore the spark of irritation that sits uncomfortably in your chest as Nathan turns his chair to look at you. You know he’s busy, but you’re busy too; you’ve been called in for a virtual meeting, on your maternity leave, no less, with the department heads – you know they wouldn’t appreciate a noisy baby in the background (despite the fact you want to make a point that they requested you...on your maternity leave).

Besides, Nathan doesn’t have any tight deadlines right now. He’s the CEO, he can push anything back whenever he damn well pleases anyway.

“Nathan, he’ll just sit and watch his TV show for a bit, it’s only an hour.”

Nathan sighs, and you tense at it.

He makes a mental note to make up for it later.

“Okay,” he says, and without looking at him, you walk over to the rug in his office, sitting Silas down on it before placing the toys around him, in easy reach for him.

You turn on the TV and place Bluey on, before walking over to Nathan’s desk and placing the remote on it. You give a swift, “See you in an hour,” before hurrying out to make your meeting.

Nathan gives a quick look to Silas, who – in your defence – was still, watching the TV, sucking away on his pacifier. Satisfied, Nathan turns back to his computer, his eyes drifting over to Silas every now and then before turning back to his screens. The noise from the TV fades into the background, until one particular line jumps out at Nathan.

“Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy.”

Nathan huffed a laugh through his nose. He couldn’t agree more. He glanced at the TV then back at Silas before turning back to his computer.

After a while, another line came through, causing him to chuckle again.

“Can I help you?”

“I wish you could, mate.”

Eventually, when he hears the characters talking about – what he thinks is – wanting kids and being unable to have them, he turns his full attention to the TV.

“What the fuck are you watchin’?” Nathan asks before standing and slipping his hands in his pockets as he saunters over to stand behind Silas.

Nathan stands and watches the family of cartoon dogs; Bluey and her sister, Bingo, and their parents, Chilli and Bandit. He watches with a furrowed brow for a moment, wondering how this was his son’s favourite show (it was probably all the colours). And he guesses the theme tune was a little catchy. And sure, Silas didn’t quite understand it, but the dialogue was funny.

“This is better than some of the other shit you watch,” Nathan said, bending down and picking Silas up, without taking his eyes off the TV. “That whiney black bunny you watch? Hate him. The Teletubbies? Also awful. I don’t understand why your mom thinks it’s a classic.”

Silas made a small noise around his pacifier and pointed to the TV.

“Yeah, she your favourite?” Nathan asks, looking at Silas. “What’s her name again? Bingo?”

Silas makes another noise, almost as if confirming with Nathan, still pointing at the TV.

Nathan nodded anyway. “Okay, okay, gotcha.”

After a moment, Nathan stood holding Silas, the two of them watching Bluey together.

Your meeting overran.

By nearly 45 minutes.

Nathan was going to be pissed.

You speed-walk to his office, ready to blurt out an apology (even though it wasn’t your fault the meeting went over), but you stop mid step when you hear Nathan say to Silas, “I think she’s sleeping with the neighbour.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you hear him, then Silas babble back.

“Oh yeah, you agree? They’re too friendly, right?”

You slowly walk into the Nathan’s office, seeing him standing with his bank to you on the rug, holding Silas in his arms as they watched Bluey together. Nathan was lightly swaying, almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.

You sucked in your lips, holding back a laugh. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You better not turn out like Muffin, she’s insane,” Nathan said. “I’ll love you regardless, but still.”

Your heart skipped a beat, like it did every time you heard those words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Nathan had never said ‘I love you’, but he…struggles…to express his emotions that aren’t irritability or exasperation. But with Silas, it came naturally to him. He never failed to say ‘I love you’ to his son (of course, Nathan does say it to you, but he understands you’re a ‘full-grown adult who can identify acts of love’; his words).

You’re brought out of your reverie as a new episode of Bluey started, the theme music kicking in. Your eyes widen and you laugh quietly as Nathan starts lightly jumping around to the music, Silas laughing and kicking his legs excitedly.

“I’m watching the footage back to this,” you say.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nathan says, jumping as he whirls around to look at you. “Announce yourself, would you?”

“You, uh…” you say, still grinning. “You watching Bluey?” you look at Silas, who smiles at you and kicks his legs in excitement. “You watching Bluey with dada? Does dada like Bluey?”

“This is fuckin’ great,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “So much better than that Miss Rachel, or whatever her name is. She’s fuckin’ annoying.”

“Excuse me, she’s very educational!”

“She’s overdoing it. The kid will learn to talk fine with just us.”

“His first word will probably be something inappropriate,” you say. “Like fuck. Or asshole.”

Nathan doesn’t reply as he turns back to the TV. You come and stand next to him, watching the episode with him. It’s the one where Chilli was telling Bluey about how she was worried that Bluey wasn’t going to meet her milestones, but Coco’s mom had told her she was doing an amazing job. It was one of your favourite episodes.

“I’ve been stood here for an hour watching these,” Nathan said quietly. “It’s nice.”

“Just standing and swaying with him?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” Nathan said simply, not expanding.

You nod, before leaning against him a little. You feel him push back at you.

You stand together and watch a few more seconds of Bluey before you ask, “So you think Chilli and Lucky’s dad are going at it?”

“Oh they definitely are.”

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Most memorable items of clothing in bl series in 2023

In order of their airing/me watching them:

I'm thankful I've gotten into the habit of noting which shows I watch and when otherwise I wouldn’t be able to remember. As it is, first on my list is Bed Friend, which kind of sets the tone for this post since it features the best and the worst outfit choices for Uea. The waffle robes and cat ears vs the fake sleeves shirt.

Next is a quick shout out to Por in My School President, since the show started in 2022 but did finish in 2023, and basically all of his outfits. The man is a style icon. But this stripy polo shirt takes the biscuit for me. I need to have it.

On to Moonlight Chicken and this one is a combined effort between Heart and Li Ming. @telomeke prompted me to write a little about it, but essentially the two shirts together are saying 'you're my other half'. Urthe / Tomato sauce.

The Gloves! Need I say more? (Alright, for those of you who don't know - how could you not?! - they're from Chains of Heart).

And now not strictly an item of clothing but an accessory, the most straight ankle bracelet you'll ever see in a thai series. Totally platonic, not gay AT ALL. In Midnight Museum.

In July the different Thai production companies took stock of three versions of the same stripy linin shirt – the cream long-sleeved, the brown short-sleeved, and the charcoal short-sleeved - and proceeded to clad every actor they could in one of them within a three and a half month period (six shows*, eight different characters). We had couple-shirts with both Kawi and Pisaeng and Mew and Top wearing them, and Namneua in Wedding Plan wore all three. (*Step by Step, Be My Favourite, Hidden Agenda, Wedding Plan, Love in Translation, and Only Friends).

Staying in July for a while, and speaking of weddings, Kawi rocked on up to Pearmai and Not's wedding in Be My Favourite in this brown houndstooth shirt and black pants outfit - an almost exact replica of Ray's outfit in the original pilot trailer for Only Friends. I waited with baited breath to see if Ray would still wear the outfit in the actual series...and he did! Not only that, I then realised Uea had already worn it in Bed Friend earlier in the year.

In a surprising turn of events, Be My Favourite – and Krist – turned out to actually be Quite Good. Perhaps distracted by Krist's puppy eyes, we weren't entirely ready for the first appearance of the Dudes shirt – itself a wonderful comment on the narrative since Kawi was figuring out his feelings for Pisaeng – but it was a delight to see it again on Nick in Only Friends, and offering a different narrative comment.

This next one may only be notable for me, but when I was doing my dedicated scan through of oh so many shows to collect items for the communal wardrobe, I noticed this sand and grey sweater amongst the many other items of shared clothing which appeared in The Warp Effect and then very briefly on Pisaeng in Be My Favourite. Not long after, the trailer for Last Twilight dropped and I spotted it again immediately. I've also since noticed it in a speed scan of The Shipper. Not only do I think it's a pretty neat sweater, but I loved the effect it gave in Last Twilight, which I wrote about at the end of this post.

This is getting long but I'm going to keep going (this might be the only 2023 wrap up I do so I'ma make it count).

If you've been following me for a while (or since the BBS days), you’ll know how rabid I go when I see a pair of the yellow-soled Mustard brand shoes in a show. The most recent being in Hidden Agenda worn by Zo…but they're not the ones on this list. Oh no, it's Joke's blue-soled shoes which made me sit up and scream this time...meaning even their shoes were colour-coded in this show. Oh how I wish I could buy a pair of each.

There were many fabulous outfits in Laws of Attraction (especially Charn's) but Tanthai's green rope shirt wins out for me. Green seemed to be used in the show to represent the lies and secrets Tanthai was forced to keep because of his father, and he was metaphorically bound and trapped in these lies and his life. Ah perfection!

I've mentioned a lot of brilliant items but there have also been many awful ones, and the one I can't seem to stop thinking about (or horrifying over) is the Droopy Tits shirt (or Nipple Protector, whichever way you want to call it) which first appeared in Dangerous Romance and then The Jungle just three days later. I'm surprised we haven't seen it again to be honest, but I imagine if we get more spoiled rich kids we probably will.

These next two aren't specific items but more of a shout out to the whole wardrobe design of the shows.

First, Only Friends, with Mew and Ray's transformation to Ray and Sand's (respective) wardrobe choices, as well as the inversion of colours to highlight differences in relationships, and the use of colour-groupings to separate characters (<- a post i have yet to write). I wish I could write more about it…but life is just too busy to give it the time it needs.

The second is, of course, Ai Di and Chen Yi in Kiseki: Dear to Me with how they always share a colour in their different outfits. @respectthepetty details this perfectly here, so I don't need to. I am however still feral about these two and can't wait to do a full re-watch of the show.

And lastly, much like Baseball Mom in Bad Buddy two years ago (and to be honest many of Pat's other shirts), Aof recently gifted us another absolutely ridiculous but brilliantly poignant t-shirt slogan in Mhok's Fart Proudly shirt in Last Twilight, which I went into detail about here. Just A+

Thanks for sticking with me through all that! Any others that stood out for you or that I missed?

[sanctus-ingenium]

any tips or stuff youve learned along the way on making a headworld "series bible" of sorts?

discord categories & channels (ft. the old working title of Where Hate Rules because i forgot to change it). i have a discord server with just me in it where I have a channel category for each writing project.

scroll down for a spreadsheet data blast

General - image dump, place to throw in new ideas so I don't forget them, plot points, etc

Worldbuilding - this is for stuff that's set in stone, not vague concepts. maps, diagrams, etc (i have a lot of diesel engine block diagrams and celestial illustrations in there as well as every holy beast)

Character log - literally just a list of characters. put in every character in the same format (i.e Name, Age, Profession, Physical Description, Hometown)

Writing Place - for prose. I write in libreoffice but when I'm out of the house on mobile or just doing test paragraphs they go here because I'd rather kill myself than use google docs ever. Each new piece of writing has an easily-searched title.

After this I have a channel for every main character. In here I put art relating to them, backstory, motivations, any random thoughts I have about them and so on. You don't wanna see how many of these I have for my Inver channel category lmaoo.

No, there are better ways to visualise Inver's absolutely massive series bible!

Discord is obviously only useful if you're online and I don't like storing so much shit in the cloud. And what if I need rows AND columns?

man i love spreadsheets. zoom in and get a load of that sweet sweet fossit guide.

this is me kissing microsoft excel with tongue to produce a datasheet about the modern-day ranger barracks in Inver (year 2017, Pascal's time) but any spreadsheet program will do. Even (gag) google sheets. I made this because in the modern era, rangers are ecologists! They participate in land management as well as faery relations.

Okay so. First thing you want to do is freeze the top row so that it remains in place when you scroll. Then populate the boxes. Here, each ranger organisation (column 1) is given its own bg colour based on its main tartan colour so visual reference is easy. The characters tab is similar - frozen top row with basic categories, then a colour-coded list of rangers.

I have one of these for 1800s Inver as well! Luckily I only had to do the habitats once since they didn't change much over the years.

Hopefully that helps?? Basically: if you're lazy and need to generate ideas and data on the go, pick discord. If you want to be more specific, make a spreadsheet or 6.

[whumpbby]

Tbh i really hate when ppl act as if Jiang Cheng was "rotten from the start" and never actually cared about Wei Wuxian as a brother. Like, in the latter's case we can see he cares very much but that care is very much mixed in with many negative feelings, it's like when you love someone but they hurt you but you still love them, you want things to go back to the way they were before but they can't and they won't. On the former it's pretty much canon that he was an ok if high strung young man and losing everyone he ever loved in very close proximity to each other is what made him be the way he is today, he's not evil (he'd be hotter if he was) he's just angry and bitter for very valid reasons

I think it takes an extreme case of Protagonist Bias to think that. And not even following the actual protagonist's thought process - just being biased on their account in some sort of a projection. Kids these days got to used to having their bad guys colour-coded.

People are so desperate to cast a villain to the Happy Couple they will grasp at any straw to justify their opinion. They will ignore every piece of text that explains in detail why things are happening and why he's acting the way he is - even to the point of ignoring the protagonist explaining what happened and how. They will literally ignore the protagonist they're wanting to stan just so that they can have their villain. Wei Wuxian needs to be massively nerfed and woobifed for the whole shitshow to start making sense. Literally, a man with no agency! Poor helpless victim! The poorest little baby, no one suffered as he did!:(

Meanwile, Jiang Cheng's biggest sin in the novel?

He's not nice.

That's it. He tried to protect Wei Wuxian from his mother. He did all he could to bring Wei Wuxian home after the war against his best interests. He walked away from Lan Zhan being a dick when he could have easily caused him problems. He only ever fought Wei Wuxian when it was either staged or he was attacked first (in the much brought up ancestral shrine scene that people don't seem to have actually read).

But he's not nice about it. He's not even stoicly stiff like the ever-amazing Lan Wangji (who only ever cared about one thing in his life, and it's the man he wanted to fuck roughly in the bushes-_-).

It was barely a decade from having his whole extended family horrifically murdered, so obviously he should be fine by this point. (We can ignore the main plot of the decade-in the making-revenge-plot, that's not important, that's not a theme at all!) At least he should learn to repress his trauma! Because that ended great for the protagonist, right?:)

You need an intense case of lack of comprehension to miss the fact that, until the very moment of the Core Reveal, every bit of information Jiang Cheng had available to him pointed directly to Wei Wuxian being at fault for the tragedy his life became. The only doubt cast upon that conclusion was the spark of love that he could not kill. JC trusted Wei Wuxian for as long as he could. He trusted him - against a myriad of signs that he maybe shouldn't have - until the man killed his brother in law.

That's where any sane person would stop and reconsider.

And yet he was still willing to be convinced otherwise - until his sister died in his arms.

Like, this is what it took for JC to snap.

If someone says that Jiang Cheng was "rotten from the start" that only tells me they have skipped the whole fourth of the book that tells us in detail why Jiang Cheng wasn't a bad kid and how much he loved his family and Wei Wuxian. It tells me that they are here only for the romance and can't see anything else, certainly not character development (why would they? Wanxian don't develop throughout the story in any impactful way except of "oh, hey, we can be together and not care about anyone else - just like we did it before, but now with fucking included!"). It's like people who don't read books cannot comprehend the fact the author thought about this shit and put it there on purpose. It's not something that just happened to fill the pages between the Romance bits for the word count. That's, like, the actual meat of the story? These people have the critical thought capacity of a fucking tiktoker-_-

The author is telling us: look at these kids that were raised in a broken family and how it affects them as teens and young adults. How it affected their relationships with the people they love and demolished their self-worth. Look how a broken family can leave it's children scarred for life!

The idiots online: one is an innocent angel that never did anything wrong and the other an evil, selfish and hateful brat, got'cha! I am very smart!

-__-

[philcoulsonismyhero]

A thing I've been thinking about a lot as I've been obsessively re-listening to the Rivers of London books on a loop and putting colour coded bookmarks into my paperbacks (in short, being Extremely Autistic about the series) is just how interesting it would be to explore what it would be like to be an autistic wizard in that 'verse.

Like, take vestigia. It's a whole extra category of sensory impressions on top of everything else that you're picking up on, and you only get more sensitive to it the longer you train for. Peter wonders at one point if Nightingale isn't just straight up listening to the magic of the city in order to find out about cases, and even if he isn't doing that he's still got to be picking up on a Huge amount of sense impressions from the magic around him. Would an autistic practitioner be even more sensitive to vestigia? Just how much of a sensory overload trigger would it be, given that it's not a true smell/sound/whatever? Do really skilled practitioners like Nightingale ever get overloaded by just how much they can sense? Would an autistic wizard have to train themselves to shut out their sense of vestigia so they didn't get overwhelmed?

And then there's how you learn magic in the first place, which is a lot of repetition, doing the same thing over and over again until you produce an effect, and then continuing to repeat it until the effect becomes consistent. And you build spells by learning more and more formae, memorising them in the process. Which sounds to me like Such an autism-friendly way of learning to do anything, I fucking love repetition and memorising huge amounts of information.

Also, it's pointed out a bunch of times that Nightingale has almost scary levels of focus. In Broken Homes he spends ages watching CCTV footage, and then a full half hour just staring at the dog batteries at Skygarden. And it's pretty obvious that his level of obsessive focus is what's made him such a powerful wizard, since he's willing to put in the hours of practice, so autistic obsessiveness would be useful too.

(Sidenote, but I'm not sure if I actually think Nightingale is a character I'd read as autistic. He's definitely got a bunch of traits in the right direction, like the single-minded focus, the scary levels of concentration, the things he's very particular about and the way he can miss Peter's sarcasm sometimes, but in his case I think it's more just his personality and training and age, plus all the trauma. But I do think it would be a fun possibility/what-if to explore.)

And when it just comes down to it, I don't think I've ever encountered a magic system that appeals more to the specific way that my brain works than the RoL one, it seems like it would be So fun to learn. Even, tbh especially, the Latin and all the other studying that's also involved. So it does rather entertain me that I've gotten really autistic over a book series that has such an autism-friendly magic system, it feels Good and Correct.

Although. Ben Aaronovitch. My guy. Give me a list of all the formae and how they work, I am Begging you. I've never wanted an in-universe textbook tie-in book as much as I do for this series and Eventually I'm going to get my hands on the TTRPG book and obsess over every little detail of how they've interpreted the magic for that.

[mizgnomer]

A collection of Ten and TenToo

Excerpts from Doctor Who Magazine #398, as reported by Benjamin Cook:

It’s Monday, 20 March 2008.  A man who looks like David Tennant paces around the Dalek Crucible.  This man is Colum Sanson-Regan.  He’s Irish, not Scottish, and he only looks like David from behind, really.  But that’s good enough.  He’s sporting the brown pinstripe suit, while David - the real David - wears the blue suit.  All day long, the lead actor and his double have been dashing off every half hour or so, to swap costumes.  Each scene is shot once with David in the brown suit, and then once again with him in the blue.  Colum likewise.  Logistically, it’s a nightmare. How is David keeping track of which Doctor is which?  “Well, obviously, the colour-coding is a clue,” he laughs, “but I know what you mean - are they two distinct performances?  Well, slightly.  There are different thought processes going on.  And I’ve underlined them in different colours in the script, which is a big deal.  It shows I mean business!  They’re different characters, but they’ve both got to be the Doctor.  It’s the same character, but it’s not.  It’s a tricky one, because Rose, at the end, you want to feel that she is left with the person that she loves, but also that she isn’t.  It’s quite a subtle, ambiguous ending for Rose.” Which suit does David prefer: the brown or the blue?  “I change my mind, actually.  The blue suits are getting a bit baggy,” he says, “but we’ve got some new ones coming in, which is great.  If you look at the brown suit now, it’s beginning to get a bit tatty.  But I don’t mind that.  I quite like a bit of tatty.”  And did he enjoy getting naked in the TARDIS in Journey’s End? DWM can’t imagine so.  “No, not really,” he confirms.  “It came at the end of a long shoot.  You don’t exactly have a chance to go to the gym when you’re filming Doctor Who every month, so it wasn’t ideal timing.  But it was very quick.”

Bonus: David Tennant and Colum Sanson Regan, David's stand-in for whichever Doctor he wasn't currently playing

[mysafehaneul]

III.AQUAMARINE

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 11K+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, (obviously lol), Fluff, Smut (in future chapters not this one).

This is my original work for free consumption because fuck capitalism but please do not steal it. All characters are original except The members of Seventeen, I do not own them. This is purely a work of fiction with no similarity with real life whatsoever, If any incident feels familiar, That is purely a coincidence. Please drop your feedback as it helps me feel motivated and improve. Happy Reading!

Previously On:

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Ties That Bind

10 years ago

Amidst the soft echoes of "My Happy Ending" by Avril Lavigne drifting through the air, the door to your sanctuary swung open, revealing Noel, the skip in her step mirroring the rhythm of the song. Your room, a canvas of organised chaos, boasted a planning board adorned with colour-coded sticky notes, and your bed was a collage of strewn books. Perched in the right corner, you toyed with the lamp's switch, casting light on the pages of Dan Ariely's wisdom.

The lamp flickered in your hand, and your eyes glanced up to welcome Noella, who promptly flopped onto the bed with enthusiasm matched only by her disregard for the comfort of your books. A wince flickered across her face as the novels' edges dug into her spine, prompting her to readjust her position with an exasperated whine, "I ammmmmmm boreddddddd."

You remained engrossed in your book, barely sparing her a glance. "Then watch TV."

"Already did."

"Workout?"

"Too lazy."

" Homework?"

"I'm not that bored."

An attempt to snatch your book from your grip met your swift evasion, and a glare sent a clear message of personal boundaries. Her pout, however, was unwavering as she growled in frustration, "Argh! I hate midterms. You know, in moments like this, I feel like becoming a white picket fence housewife isn't that bad of an idea."

A chuckle escaped you, teasing. "No one's stopping you. In fact, your father would be more than willing to arrange that for you."

Rolling her eyes in a dramatic fashion, she responded with a healthy dose of sarcasm, "Haha, very funny."

An unspoken understanding danced between your laughter-laden voices, and your I-know-you-know look exchanged effortlessly. But Noella was not done, not by a long shot. With an air of whimsy, she expressed, "I want to marry the person I love, not for some business deal! You know, I want a wedding like, you know, that book Mamma Mia."

You responded with a hum, fully aware of her penchant for planning and envisioning every detail. "You've already planned your entire wedding, haven't you?"

Propping herself on her elbows, she fixed you with a look of pure shock. "You have not."

A shake of your head was your honest reply, and your gaze remained locked on the page, your fingers fidgeting with the edge. "No, I prefer living in reality."

Noella dropped back onto the bed, her gaze transfixed by the ceiling fan. The contemplative air clung to her as she murmured, "Say, Y/N, have you ever been in love?"

A huff escaped your lips, and your fingers are now tapping rhythmically on the page. Tilting your head, you offered her an experimental smile. ''Maybe I don't know."

As though a spark ignited spilled gasoline, Noella's blue eyes glinted with curiosity. "Oh my god, tell me! In a heartbeat, her hand grabbed yours, the book tumbling onto the bed as she leaned in. "Who was it? How did it happen? Do I know them?"

You offered a mischievous grin, your words dripping with playfulness. "I'm not telling you who it is."

The puppy-eyed look she gave you was as predictable as the sunrise. "It happened recently, or is it a past flame? Do I know them?

"Noella," you admonished, "I'm not spilling the beans that easily."

Undeterred, she pouted, "Y/nnn! You sneaky bitch, you're killing me here''.

The chime of her Nokia Ericsson pierced the air, interrupting her sentence. With an apologetic smile, she excused herself to attend to the call. Left to your own devices, you rested your head against the headrest, a sigh escaping your lips, the book momentarily forgotten.

Noella reappeared, her presence leaning against the door frame. "Get ready, loser. Vernon called; he's throwing a party."

A roll of your eyes conveyed your reluctance, and you offered your excuse, "Sorry, boo, I, or rather 'we,' have an assignment due on Tuesday."

"Live a little, will you? Her voice was a coaxing melody, her hands finding your shoulders, her eyes capturing yours in a determined gaze. "What will you tell your kids about your college life? Come on, everyone will be there—Nicole, Adam, Humza, and even Joshua will be there! Even if I go somewhere, he'll be there to accompany you. Please... pwease." She gave her best puppy eyes, coupled with rapid blinking—a formidable combination.

The mention of Joshua's name stirred a subtle tremor in your heart—a rush of memories and emotions quickly masked by a practiced demeanor. "Fine," you relented with feigned annoyance.

Her triumphant giggle filled the air as she danced out of the room, a chorus of "We're going to have so much fun tonight" fading into the distance.

In the wake of her departure, you closed your eyes, feeling the echo of her laughter linger. Emotions danced within you, a complex symphony of moments past and the unknown future. And amidst it all, a single name echoed—an enigma you dared not fully unravel—Joshua. .. It's been a mere 20 minutes since you both stepped into the party, and as every college party goes, bottles and drunks linger in every corner. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol. You found yourself near the pantry, seeking refuge from the chaos that surrounded you. The pounding beats of Kanye West and Usher reverberated in your ears, each note tearing at your eardrums. The scene was a sensory overload, with over-the-top PDA and borderline explicit displays of affection vying for attention on every available surface. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze fixated on a loveseat by the unlit fireplace, two figures locked in what appeared to be a heated exchange of passionate kisses.

A presence sidled up next to you, the intrusion barely registering in your consciousness. Without bothering to look, a casual comment reached your ears: "Are you into exhibitionism? The voice, familiar yet distant, belonged to Jeonghan, Joshua's closest friend. While your interactions with him had never been extensive, there was an ease in your exchanges that allowed for conversation to flow.

Your voice, hidden beneath the veil of loud music, held a subtle quiver as you responded, "What makes you think that? His chuckle was laced with amusement as he took a casual sip of his beer, his eyes dancing mischievously. " You've been staring at Joshua and Noella making out for the last 5 minutes, unblinking, like you're into some peeping Tom shit. He raised his hands in a mock surrender before continuing, "Not that I'm judging—or you're in love with one of them."

Finally tearing your gaze away from the entangled couple, your eyes met Jeonghan's deep brown orbs. The burn of unshed tears stung your eyes, threatening to betray your facade. A sarcastic smile tugged at your lips, a bitter twist to the corners as your Adam's apple bobbed with the ache that had lodged itself there. Your voice wavered, laced with vulnerability, as you spoke, "So what if I am? The arch of your brow matched his curiosity, the traitorous tear breaking free and tracing a glistening path down your cheek. In that moment, you stood exposed, your unspoken emotions laid bare before Jeonghan's shocked gaze.

... ...

Present

In the hushed sanctuary of the dimly lit gym, the air was filled with the subtle scent of iron and the muted thud of sneakers against the rubberized floor. Bathed in the soft glow of ambient lighting, a lean, muscular frame was suspended from a metal bar. The absence of a shirt revealed a canvas of pale skin. Illuminated by the interplay of light and shadow, every sinew and muscle fiber was defined, etched with the story of countless hours spent sculpting this masterpiece.

(A/N: I am literally red in the cheeks as I imagine this.)

The pull-up bar strained slightly under his weight as he effortlessly lifted himself, the raw power of his biceps evident with every fluid motion. The mirror-lined wall before him reflected the dedication etched into his expression. The slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin was a mark of the exertion. In the mirror's reflection, a sight that seemed almost unreal—a carved landscape of solid abs, chiseled with the precision of an artist's hand—the lines and contours were a testament to the sacrifices made in the pursuit of physical mastery as the light danced upon the ridges and hollows. As he lowered himself, his back muscles flexed with grace, were defined, and were engaged. His breath had a steady rhythm. The pull-ups continued. His reps came to a close when Wonwoo's mind drifted back to a pivotal moment that had transpired merely two days earlier. He remembered the air of reluctance that had clung to the room, heavy with implications and unspoken desires. With each repetition, his thoughts swirled around the upcoming agreement—a binding arrangement that carried both promise and uncertainty.

Lee Chan, his assistant and confidant, stood nearby. His finger danced across his work pad, capturing Wonwoo's directives. Wonwoo spoke with the conviction of a strategist. "Chan," he directed, his words intersecting with the rhythm of his exercise as his muscles tensed and released, "keep a watchful eye on Eleanor. This marriage will be public, and her reaction will need to be managed. Chan nodded. '' As for Y/N in the contract, make sure she understands that I'm not after her shares; I want the 40% ownership of the land."

Chan's eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. "That might not be an easy sell," he responded, a hint of scepticism in his tone.

Wonwoo's lips quirked into a sardonic smile. "She's cornered and desperate. She'll acquiesce to my terms sooner or later."

Another point entered the conversation as Wonwoo continued, his focus never wavering from his repetitions. "I want full control over the construction, material choices, and our engineers leading the project."

Chan let out a resigned sigh. "They have a pre-approved design from the city hall. It won't be easy to sway them to our choices."

Wonwoo, unperturbed, shrugged off the challenge. "Her architects can collaborate with our engineers. It's a compromise."

As the rep count grew, Wonwoo switched his focus. Sitting on a bench, he paused to drink from his water bottle. "Hey, Chan," he began, curiosity tinting his voice, "what do seven-year-olds like?"

Chan's bemusement was evident as he responded, "Well, my job hasn't allowed me to keep up with that particular knowledge, unfortunately."

A chuckle bubbled from Wonwoo's chest, his laughter mingling with the sweat that adorned his body. "That's unfortunate indeed," he mused.

A change in tone ensued as Chan teased, "Shouldn't you be more concerned about breaking the news to your parents that you'll be married in less than a week?"

Wonwoo, now reaching for a towel to wipe his face, responded with an air of irony, "Ah, the model son, fulfilling every parental wish. They will be over the moon upon hearing this." As the conversation tapered off, Wonwoo's laughter lingered in the air. As Chan stepped into the corridor, the door to the gym closed behind him, enclosing Wonwoo in a world of his own.

Wonwoo, whose muscles warmed and were invigorated from the exercise, sensed the call of renewal. He strode towards his private bathroom, the sleek glass entrance giving way to a sanctuary adorned with modern elegance. Droplets of water clung to his skin as he stood beneath the refreshing spray, the rivulets chasing away both the physical exertion and the mental intricacies that had accompanied it. ...

Amid the warm embrace of your home office, with your oak shelves adorned with books arranged in the year of their publication order and the soft fragrance of lavender candles enveloping the air, you were immersed in a symphony of words—swift typing echoing your intent. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a gentle glow upon the room as you etched your thoughts onto a digital canvas in the form of an email to Rema, articulating the vital terms that needed inclusion in the contract.

Just as the hum of productivity enveloped you, a cheerful interruption arrived—a video call notification adorned your screen, and your lips curved upward instinctively. The call was from Jeonghan, and your heart fluttered in response to the anticipation that always accompanied his presence. With a simple click, your world expanded as the familiar visages of two individuals graced your laptop screen—one radiating happiness, the other adorned with a slightly pouty demeanour.

''Hi, baby boy,'' you greeted affectionately, your voice a soothing melody.

In response, a spirited wave from one side and an exuberant chorus of ''Helloooooooo'' resounded.

''You're not my baby boy, Jeonghan,'' the older of the two playfully pouted, his expression adorning a playful indignation.

''Why the sad face, baby? What's wrong?'' concern laced your words, your eyes narrowing slightly in worry.

A small pout graced his lips, and with a slight turn of his form, he responded, ''Nothing.''

''Did JJ do something to you?'' you probed gently, a flicker of suspicion entering your tone.

''Hey!'' Jeonghan exclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of defence.

''Someone didn't keep their promise''', Jeonghan filled in the blank. Your heart was attuned to the emotions playing out on the screen before you. ''Are you mad at Tante?'' you ventured, using the affectionate nickname that Noel had bestowed upon you.

Folding his arms and maintaining his faux sulky stance, Noel remained stubbornly silent, his emotions written across his features. The exact copy of his mother, you mused.

Sighing softly, you cast a sideways glance at Jeonghan, silently seeking his aid in mollifying the situation. But, ever the mischievous character, he seemed to relish the leverage he held over you, basking in his unique advantage.

With a mock grimace, you attempted to soothe Noel's spirits. ''How about I bring you the new Iron Man figurine we saw on YouTube?''

His eyes sparkled with renewed interest, and his dejected demeanour began to wane. Before an ever-excited Jeonghan interrupted, ''Oh, oh, Y/n! Y/n! My mother said that before you leave for Switzerland, could you please contact her? She wants to send a few things for Victor and me.''

Playfully rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but quip, ''Am I your free courier service now?''

Conversations flowed, creating a seamless current of inquiries and updates. You touched upon your impending return in ten days, inquiring about the nuances of daily life, the excitement of the first day of school, and the progress of Jeonghan's partner, Victor. A cryptic promise of a surprise hung in the air, a tidbit that piqued Noel's curiosity while Jeonghan playfully insisted on unveiling the secret.

You shared tales, exchanged laughter, and jestingly teased about revealing the surprise—much to Jeonghan's delight and Noel's evident impatience. A final tongue-touched tease, a farewell infused with affection, and a soft ''Bye, baby'' from your lips elicited a gentle ''Bye'' in response. The residue of the interaction lingered in your heart, a soothing balm for the worries and tensions that life invariably brought.

In the heart of your cosy sanctuary, the virtual connection may have faded, but the warmth and fondness it ignited remained etched in your spirit—a reminder that even amidst the most mundane of tasks, a cherished bond could mend even the most delicate of hearts. And for this boy, every ounce of effort, every pain, and every sacrifice was worth it—even if it meant marrying someone who more or less wants to devour one of your life's most important projects.

Leaning back in your chair, you allowed your head to find solace in the rest. Your fingers reached out to grasp your coffee tumbler, the warmth seeping through to your skin as you took a contemplative sip. A soft smile graced your lips as you relished the memory of Rema's reaction—her coffee nearly becoming a casualty of your unexpected revelation. The news that you had managed to secure a husband, none other than the enigmatic Jeon Wonwoo, within the span of a mere seven hours was certainly not something she had anticipated.

You recounted the scene with amusement, the vivid image of Rema sputtering in surprise over her coffee etched in your mind. It was as if the universe had conspired to drop this bombshell into your life, a twist you had never imagined—marrying the very person you were resolute about avoiding, especially under your parents' persistent pressure.

''So, a contract marriage? Rema's incredulous voice echoed in your memory, her disbelief mirrored in her eyes.

''Every marriage is a social contract, Rem,'' you responded, your tone holding a touch of wisdom born from your pragmatic worldview.

''Well, what are you going to tell your parents? Her curiosity was palpable, and you could almost see her eyebrows raised in concern.

You contemplated her question, your mind churning with thoughts as you weighed your options. ''Hmm, I haven't quite figured that out yet. I want to finalise the contract first before I involve my parents. I need to ensure my rational side is fully operational before any emotional tidal wave hits me.''

A burst of laughter bubbled out of you; the image of your mother's hypothetical inquiries was too amusing to ignore. ''I already know the first thing my mother would ask me,'' you shared. '' 'Are you pregnant?' ''

Rema shook her head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation, swiftly reaching for a tissue to mop up the coffee droplets that had landed on her.

''Aren't you just the epitome of decisiveness?'' she quipped, a playful glint in her eyes.

''I wouldn't have reached where I am today if I weren't, babydoll,'' you responded with a cheeky wink, your confidence wrapped in a cloak of humour. ''More work for me, Yipee,'' Rema sighed, her voice teasingly resigned.

...

...

The towering skyscrapers of the city loomed closer and closer as your car glided through the bustling streets. Your attention was momentarily pulled from the cityscape as you looked down at the file resting on your lap, fingers tapping rhythmically on its spine. Rachel sat next to the driver, engrossed in her own tasks, while Rema sat beside you, both of you reviewing the contract that held the key to your next steps.

The sleek black car smoothly manoeuvred into a private parking route as you approached the high-rise building. The transition from the busy streets to this more controlled environment was palpable. The car's engine purred to a halt, and the door was about to be opened by your driver, but before he could, a figure appeared at your side. Standing at around 170 to 174 cm tall, with an athletic physique and strong brows that hinted at both trustworthiness and experience beyond his years, the man exuded a certain aura of capability.

Your driver was momentarily beaten to opening the door as the man swiftly reached out and performed the task himself. A polite smile touched your lips as you stepped out of the car and met with his introduction. "Good morning, Ms. L/N. I am Lee Chan, Mr. Jeon's assistant."

You acknowledged his introduction with a nod and extended your hand to accept his offered greeting. The firm handshake conveyed both professionalism and a hint of camaraderie. Your associates followed suit, shaking hands with Chan. His eyes flickered over each of you with a sense of quiet assessment before he continued, "Mr. Jeon is waiting for you in his private office. Please, this way, Ms. L/n."

With Chan leading the way, the three of you entered the building. He retrieved a card from his pocket and swiped it to access the elevator. As you rode up to your destination, a subtle exchange between you and Rema took place. A single glance was shared, conveying unspoken thoughts and observations that only close friends could understand.

The elevator's doors smoothly slid open to reveal Wonwoo's private office. Chan stepped aside, gesturing for you to proceed. The next chapter of this intriguing journey was about to unfold.

The office space exuded an air of sophistication and power, with its large windows allowing sunlight to filter in and casting a soft glow on the lavender walls. A line of viper's bowstring hemp plants lined the windowsill, their vibrant green leaves adding a touch of life to the serene environment. A pristine white couch, a matching table, and a sleek chair formed a seating area, contrasting against the emerald green carpet that sprawled across the floor. You couldn't help but think, "I'm definitely not letting him decide the interior."

As you observed the room, your thoughts drifted. His back was turned to you, engrossed in conversation with his lawyer, a man with sharp features yet surprisingly kind eyes and an easy smile. "Is everyone around this guy straight out of a Vogue magazine?" you mused, noticing the effortlessly fashionable aura that seemed to surround him.

But as you entered the scene, your initial unease gave way to determination. A professional smile graced your lips as you addressed him, and you sized him up just as he often did to you. A hint of amusement glinted in his eyes as he mirrored your assessment, a silent exchange of unspoken messages.

His two strides brought him to your side, extending his hand in greeting. You accepted it with a firm shake, your resolve strengthening as you faced the inevitable negotiation. "Welcome, Ms. l/n," he said, his voice carrying a blend of formality and an undercurrent of intrigue. "Please, this way."

The meeting commenced, with both of your teams settling down. Wonwoo introduced you to Dokyeom, his lawyer, and the formalities began. As the lawyers discussed the contract, Chan and Rachel delved into their laptops, ready to alter or add new clauses as needed.

The initial clauses passed with relative ease, but it was clause 4 that sparked the first dispute. Wonwoo expressed his desire through his lawyer for control over the capital for development, citing his experience. You, however, believed in mutual consent, acknowledging his expertise but asserting that the ownership of the oasis remained under your control.

The conversation moved to the heart of the matter—the adoption and marriage clause. As the details were presented, a sense of gravity settled in the room. Rema outlined the terms, including the custody of Noel, from cooperation in the adoption procedure to custody after divorce. Your gaze met Wonwoo's in a silent exchange, challenging each other to accept the terms.

As the discussion progressed, a clause about maintaining separate personal lives and public acts of infidelity emerged. You both locked eyes again, a daring challenge in the air. The tension escalated when Wonwoo boldly proposed that he desired 40% ownership of the land rather than mere profit shares from the resort's success.

Your incredulous laughter broke the room's tension, and you couldn't help but question his audacity. "I beg your pardon," you said, catching everyone off guard. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to you, especially Wonwoo's. Amidst the surprised gazes, he requested a private moment, and the room quickly emptied.

Left alone, you couldn't help but recall the clause he had proposed. Your voice carried controlled authority, masking the fierce intensity of your emotions. "What do you mean by that?" you demanded, a fire sparking in your eyes as you awaited his explanation.

The air crackled with tension, each passing moment intensifying the gravity of the situation. The weight of his audacious demand hung in the space between you, an unspoken challenge that required explanation.

Wonwoo's gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, you could sense the undercurrent of surprise in his eyes. It was as if he hadn't expected you to react with such vigour and question his intentions so directly. His lips curved slightly, a hint of that enigmatic smile tugging at the corners as he regarded you with a mix of appraisal and amusement.

As the silence stretched on, you held his gaze, refusing to back down. The seconds ticked away, each heartbeat resonating like the drumming of your own determination. The viper's bowstring plants by the window seemed to lean in, their green leaves capturing the suspended tension in the room.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his response broke the stillness. His voice, a low and measured timbre, carried a hint of intrigue that matched the glint in his eyes. "Ms. l/n," he began, his words deliberate, "I believe in securing a substantial stake in endeavours that I invest in."

His answer, though composed, held a layer of unapologetic honesty. He was not one to mince words, nor was he inclined to sugarcoat his intentions. The room seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the energy shifting between you like an invisible current.

You leaned forward slightly, your posture conveying a mix of determination and challenge. "Mr. Jeon," your words held a touch of incredulity: "It's clear that you're driven by greed, seeking to secure every possible advantage for yourself. But your audacity to think that I have no option but to accept this, just because it concerns the fate of a child—"

Your voice, initially firm, held a slight tremor as emotions surged within you. Your love for Noel and your unyielding commitment to his well-being fueled your resolve. And in that moment, you found the strength to confront Wonwoo's audacious demands head-on.

His eyebrows arched slightly, his eyes narrowing as if assessing the fire that blazed within you. "And what exactly do you intend to do, Ms. L/N?" he inquired, his tone holding a hint of challenge, a spark that ignited the smouldering embers of your defiance.

Your lips curled into a rueful smile, your eyes locking onto his with unyielding determination. "That's where you're wrong, Mr. Jeon. I don't give up at the face of one close door, because I know there is always another way," you replied, your voice carrying a steady resolve. "I don't believe I have so many shortcomings that I must resort to a man marrying me for what I have rather than for who I am."

The room seemed to hold its breath as your words hung in the air, your stance unwavering as you faced him down. Viper's bowstrings, symbols of strength and resilience, stood tall and steadfast in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Your fingers tightened around the file on your lap, your nails tapping a rhythm that echoed the steady cadence of your heartbeat. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Jeon," you concluded, your tone carrying a mix of finality and dismissal. "But I now consider our agreement null and void."

The words reverberated through the room, a declaration that marked the turning point of the negotiation. As you rose from your seat, your eyes locked onto his one final time, a silent exchange that spoke volumes. With your head held high, you turned to leave the room. As you were on the verge of leaving, Wonwoo's sudden grip on your hand pulled you to a stop, and before you knew it, your back was pressed against the door, his imposing figure looming over you. The abruptness of the situation caught you off guard, your heartbeat quickening in response to the proximity and intensity of the moment.

His words, delivered in close quarters, held a mix of challenge and something else—perhaps a hint of intrigue. The tension in the room seemed to amplify, with the air growing thick with unspoken emotions. His scent enveloped you, a blend of something distinctly his, and the weight of his presence felt tangible.

Aren't you a stubborn wild cat, huh? His voice was low, a mere whisper that seemed to caress the air between you. His grip on your hand was firm yet not restrictive, almost as if he were testing your limits and your reactions. The spark in his eyes danced with a mixture of amusement and something darker—a challenge laid bare.

Your lips curled into a wry smile, refusing to back down even as your heart raced. "You underestimate my determination, Mr. Jeon," you retorted, your voice steady despite the closeness of your proximity. The playful banter that laced your words seemed to dance in the charged atmosphere.

His response held a trace of surrender, albeit grudgingly. "Fine, have it your way. But know this," he leaned in a fraction closer, his eyes drilling into yours. "While I might not value the 40% shares as much, engineers will be mine, and architects will be yours. But I'll be the one who approves the final design."

(Hey Alexa play Shameless by Camila Cabello)

The terms were set, a balance struck, and at that moment, it was as if the energy between you shifted. You found yourself locked in a silent exchange, your eyes locked onto his as time seemed to momentarily stand still. Noses are nearly brushing, and the electric pull between you is almost tangible. You opened your mouth to respond, to add your own quip to the conversation, but before you could, a knock on the door shattered the intense moment. The spell was broken, and the two of you stepped away from each other.

The place where his fingers had grasped your forearms still tingled, a sensation that seemed to linger even after he released his hold. As the door opened and the interruption brought you back to reality,

Chan's voice cut through the tension. "Is everything alright in here?" he inquired, his eyes shifting between you and Wonwoo. Wonwoo gave a curt nod in response. With the abrupt interruption, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Wonwoo returned to his seat on the couch, a casual demeanour replacing the intensity that had lingered moments ago. His fingers deftly unbuttoned the top button of his suit jacket, and he loosened his necktie ever so slightly. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the powerful aura that had surrounded him just a moment ago eased into a more relaxed state. The brief pause allowed everyone to regain their composure. The discussion resumed, and each point was dissected, debated, and negotiated for another half an hour.

While Wonwoo and his team provided their input, Your team, equally engaged, presented your counterarguments, ensuring that every clause and detail was thoroughly examined. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of back-and-forth, the consensus was reached. Chan printed out the final contract. The pages, filled with the intricacies of the partnership, awaited your signatures, signifying the culmination of a process that had started with a chance encounter and evolved into this intricate arrangement. With the contract laid out before you, you and Wonwoo picked up the pens and signed your names, sealing the deal. It was a significant step, a commitment that held the potential to shape your futures in ways both anticipated and unforeseen.

As the ink dried on the pages, a sense of accomplishment and finality filled the room. The tension that had simmered throughout the meeting began to dissipate, replaced by a shared understanding of the agreement you had reached. The weight of the decisions made hung in the air, a blend of determination, pragmatism, and a touch of uncertainty.

With the signatures in place, you exchanged a brief, professional nod with Wonwoo. The contract was now a binding agreement, setting the course for the journey ahead.

The meeting concluded, and the tension that had filled the air slowly ebbed away. As you prepared to leave, the private elevator once again carried you down to the parking lot; this time, Wonwoo, accompanied by Chan, came to bid you farewell. The scene felt different now. Wonwoo approached you, and the two of you engaged in a hushed conversation. In the midst of your conversation, Wonwoo's tone took an unexpected turn as he addressed you. Y/N The unfamiliarity of it caught your attention, and you responded with curiosity. ''Yes, Mr. Jeon?'' ''Please call me Wonwoo. It would be weird if my soon-to-be wife called me this formally. a notification that left you momentarily surprised before you agreed. ''Right....''

You were about to take your leave, almost approaching your car, with Rachel and Rema assisted by Chan, already seated while Wonwoo and you were talking, when his voice stopped you in your tracks. He reached for your hand with a cautious yet determined gesture. He glanced up, seeking silent permission, which you granted with a nod, his touch sending a tingling sensation through your skin. His fingers traced your knuckles as he spoke. His work was laced with a hint of hesitation. ''I apologise for my behaviour back in the meeting room, and I want to give you something. Wonwoo's hand gravitated to his coat pocket, retrieving a treasure trove concealed within royal blue velvet. The box was unveiled. Inside lay a revelation—a dazzling marvel that captured both the essence of his intentions and the enigma of his sentiments. A gasp, soft as the fluttering of a butterfly's wings, escaped your lips as the lid surrendered to your gaze, unveiling a precious secret encased in a velvety cradle.

Emerging from the depths of the velvet like a precious secret, the ring glimmered under the soft ambient light. A magnificent aquamarine, with a hue reminiscent of cerulean seas kissed by the first light of dawn, took centre stage. The gemstone possessed an almost mythical quality, as if it held within its crystalline depths the stories of ages past and the promises of futures yet to unfold.

The aquamarine, a robust 20 carats in weight, bore a rare and enchanting leaf shape. Its contours curved with an elegance that mirrored the delicate veins of an intricately designed leaf, each facet capturing and refracting light with a mesmerising dance of colors. As your gaze traversed its surface, you could almost sense the tranquilly of distant oceans, the whispering breeze through verdant foliage, and the serenity of untouched realms.

Nestled within the heart of this radiant gemstone was an exquisite diamond, seemingly suspended in time and space. The diamond's brilliance was a testament to its purity, its fiery facets contrasting beautifully against the calm serenity of the aquamarine. The union of these two precious stones created a harmonious equilibrium, a metaphor for the delicate balance between strength and vulnerability, passion and tranquilly.

The aquamarine and diamond duo was cradled within a band of gleaming gold, a testament to enduring commitment and unwavering unity. The warm and lustrous gold embraced the gemstones with a gentle touch, as if it understood the significance of the emotions woven into this remarkable piece of art.

As you admired the ring, its significance became clear. Beyond the brilliance of the gemstones and the artistry of the design, it held a narrative of its own. It was a token of understanding, an offering of reconciliation, and an expression of a promise that defied the boundaries of words. The ring was not merely a decoration; it was a bridge connecting hearts, a symbol of a journey shared, and a harbinger of the future's uncharted wonders. Wonwoo delicately retrieved the ring from its resting place. With a sense of purpose and reverence, Wonwoo's fingers gently guided the ring onto your waiting finger. To your surprise and amazement, the ring glided onto its designated spot as though fate had conspired to ensure its perfect fit. It was as if the ring had always been meant for this very moment. Bending forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to the finger that now cradled his grandmother's ring, an heirloom infused with memories and generations of love. In that tender and intimate moment, you became aware of the eyes upon you, witnesses to a scene that bore the weight of significance. The subtle click of a camera shutter seemed to punctuate the air, capturing the essence of the moment in a frozen frame. Raising your hand to eye level, you observed the ring from every angle, marvelling at the intricate details that adorned it. The craftsmanship was undeniable, a testament to the skill and dedication of artisans from a different era. The ring felt weighty with history, as if it had borne witness to decades of stories, celebrations, and moments of love. ''What exceptional craftsmanship; it must be more than 80 years old. Your words of appreciation were genuine, spoken not just to please Wonwoo but to acknowledge the inherent beauty of the heirloom that now graced your finger.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo's surprise at your approval stemmed from a memory that resurfaced—a memory of Eleanor's disdain for the ring's vintage charm. Her words about designing her own engagement ring echoed in his mind, a stark contrast to the genuine admiration you now express.

"Thank you," you continued, your voice carrying a sincere tone. "I'll treasure it and ensure it's well cared for. When the time comes, I'll return it to you, as per our agreement." Wonwoo nodded, his attention fully drawn back to the present moment.

As your car glided away, disappearing into the distance, Wonwoo turned to Chan, a sense of satisfaction evident in his demeanor. "Did we get the shot?" he inquired, his voice carrying a mixture of anticipation and assurance.

Chan nodded affirmatively. "Yes, we did." A satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Wonwoo's lips. "Good. Let's release it then. Lessen's the hassle of letting everyone know yourself."

...

The mansion's grand entrance seemed to welcome you with open arms—a sanctuary of familiarity. However, before you could fully absorb its warmth, your phone's shrill ring shattered the tranquility. Shock radiated through you as your mother's name lit up the screen. Suppressing the panic, you hastily silenced the call and composed yourself to enter the living area.

Inside, your mother's agitated pacing drew your attention, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, while your father's calm demeanour seemed to offer a stark contrast. Their exchange was a silent symphony of tension, a conversation spoken through glances and unspoken words. You entered cautiously, your gaze connecting with your mother's as she turned and faced you, her expression a mix of disbelief and frustration.

She thrust her phone towards you, her voice laden with incredulity. "What is the meaning of this?"

You took a deep breath, your resolve unwavering despite her evident shock. "Wonwoo and I have decided to get married," you stated, meeting her eyes with a sense of certainty.

Her features contorted in a mix of emotions, and she spluttered, searching for words. "But… why? Have you thought this through? You both just met, like a week ago. I know we wanted this, but This isn't a decision to be taken lightly. She paused for a moment and said, ''Wait, you're not pregnant? There was a long pause, and you looked exasperatedly at your mother's predictability. ''Are you?'' ''No Mama!''  You held your ground; your voice was measured but resolute. ''I just really like Wonwoo, and I believe this is the right choice for me."

Your father, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "Are you sure about this, Y/N? We've been the ones pushing you into this arrangement, but you shouldn't feel pressured. Take your time to get to know each other."

His words resonated, and you appreciated his concern. Meeting his gaze, you nodded. "Dad, I understand your concern. But I want you both to know that this decision is mine, and I'm willingly entering into it. Wonwoo and I have had conversations, and we've reached an understanding. I believe that with time, we can build something meaningful together." He nodded, his features softening. "I trust your judgement, Y/N. Just remember, we're here for you every step of the way. If you ever have any doubts or concerns, don't hesitate to share them with us." A genuine smile curled your lips as you felt the weight of their support as you walked towards your room.

... ...

Amidst the lush haven of the Jeon family garden, a symphony of colours and scents painted the scene. Flowers of all hues danced in harmony, while the gentle breeze rustled the leaves of tall, graceful trees. The garden was a testament to nature's beauty, a serene backdrop to your momentous discussion.

Seated in a circle under a canopy of blooming cherry blossom trees, the air was filled with excitement and anticipation. Wonwoo's parents were elated beyond words; his mother radiated a celestial happiness, while his father's eyes held a proud gleam. On the other side, your mother couldn't contain her joy either, with her childhood friend's son being the groom-to-be.

As plans for the wedding took centre stage, the four of them discussed every detail with fervor. Your mothers sat next to each other, their camaraderie evident in the way they exchanged anecdotes and shared their excitement. The garden provided a serene respite, with the soft rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds forming a soothing symphony.

However, the news of a private wedding seemed to dampen their enthusiasm. Your mother voiced her concern: "We can't have our only children's wedding like this. What will people think? They might assume the worst."

You and Wonwoo shared a knowing glance, understanding the predicament. Just as you were about to address the issue, his hand landed on your shoulder—a gesture that surprised you but didn't betray it on your face. His calm presence emboldened you.

In his composed manner, he spoke, reminding both sets of parents about the time crunch. He suggested an alternative, his words carrying the weight of careful consideration. "Considering that L/N Enterprises' 75th anniversary is just three months away, perhaps we could have a reception there. A gala that combines both events

His suggestion was met with a mix of surprise and approval. You couldn't help but marvel at his insight into the intricacies of your family's business events. His parents' agreement brought a sense of relief, and your mothers immediately delved into discussions about the grandeur and coordination needed for such an occasion.

Meanwhile, your fathers found common ground in their shared love for football, and their discussion was animated and filled with camaraderie. Seated next to you, Wonwoo seemed to be lost in thought, his phone in hand. His gaze, however, was fixed on your fingers as they fidgeted with the ring he had placed on your hand.

The subtle touch of the ring brought warmth to the place where he had touched you. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo's father observed this quiet interaction, a knowing smile curving his lips.

...

...

With only two days left until the wedding, the world around you seemed to be spinning in a frenzy of preparations and arrangements. Rachel, your mother, and Chan's assistant, Jun-min, were orchestrating a symphony of tasks on both sides to ensure every detail was perfect. Amidst the whirlwind, you found yourself seated at your desk, the file of your upcoming exhibition of rare gems open before you. However, your mind refused to stay focused, drifting away like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze.

The rapid pace at which everything was changing left you feeling as if time itself was slipping through your fingers. The days seemed to merge into one another, and you struggled to internalise the enormity of the changes taking place in your life. With a sigh, you closed the file and allowed your thoughts to wander back to a phone conversation you had with Wonwoo just last night.

His name lingered on your lips like a whisper carried by the wind. The memory of his warm and steady voice played in your mind like a soothing melody. You had called him with important news about a case and explained why his presence was crucial. And then you found yourself speaking the words that had been lingering on the edge of your thoughts.

"Wonwoo," you began, your voice carrying a mixture of contemplation and vulnerability. "I know we've signed a contract, and it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. But there's something I feel the need to discuss. Adopting Noel means that he will forever be a part of your life, at least on paper. Are you sure you want that?"

The seconds that followed your question felt like suspended time, a void where anticipation held its breath. And then his response came, each word falling like a gentle rain that quenched the thirst for uncertainty.

"You know, Y/N. His voice resonated through the line, a soft caress against your ears. When I first took over the business, I was driven by the desire to leave a lasting mark on the world. But now, it all seems like a cycle of profit and loss. And when I consider the impact it could have on his life, why not? It's not like I have to pay for childcare," he added with a touch of humour, and your chuckles danced together like notes in a melody.

The ringing of your phone cut through the recollection,disrupted by the familiar sound of your ringing phone. With a delicate touch, you picked it up, and your mother's voice flowed through the line, a cascade of concern and authority intertwined.

"Hello, Mama. Your voice held a soothing tone, an echo of familiarity.

The barrage of her words swept over you like a mother's affectionate reprimand. "Why are you still in your office? Didn't I tell you to go for your fitting? Tommy is waiting for you, and you know how crucial these appointments are."

In the midst of her words, there came a polite knock on your door, and you motioned for the visitor to enter. Rema, your confidante and partner in this whirlwind, stepped in, her lips moving silently, inquiring about your situation.

You brought the phone back to your ear, offering a hasty response to your mother's concerns. "Yes, yes, Mama, I'll be there shortly."

Her voice shifted into a higher octave, an urgent note encased in her words. "What do you mean you'll be there? Go now! Do you have any idea how much work planning a wedding takes? And on top of that, you've chosen to hold it in our residence! If it weren't for that commendable child, Rachel—"

Her voice trailed off, the echo of her thoughts leaving an invisible trail in the air. And in less time than it took to catch a breath, you found yourself transported from your office to the plush surroundings of Thomason's, often fondly referred to as "Tommy's" boutique. The pristine ambiance welcomed you, and the scent of delicate fabrics and elegance enveloped you like a soft embrace. As you stepped into the luxurious ambiance of Thomason's, Rema followed closely behind, her fingers gliding through the racks of exquisite gowns. Her voice carried curiosity as she voiced a question that had perhaps been lingering in her mind for a while. "Do you not have any other friends?"

Engrossed in your phone as you replied to a message, your response came without a moment's hesitation. "I did, but she died in an orchestrated car crash. Sooo, no, I don't."

When you finally looked up, you met Rema's shocked expression. It was as if she hadn't expected you to approach such a sensitive topic with such nonchalance. The gravity of the situation, however, gave way to a shared understanding. The corners of your lips curled upward, and her lips mirrored your amusement.

With a voice adorned by a rich French accent, Thomas emerged to greet you, his exuberance evident in his words. "Here's my bride."

You responded with a warm smile, acknowledging his affectionate welcome. "Thomas."

His excitement was palpable as he continued, "Welcome, darling. I was going blind, staring at the door for your arrival."

"Hurry, I have shortlisted the dresses for you. All you have to do is try them on, darling. Your skin... it looks like you took a private appointment with the sun."

Amused by his playful comment, you chuckled softly. "I know an amazing place."

"It's alright, Tommy. Mama has taken care of that. Where's the dress? I have a meeting at 3."

In the midst of Thomas' effervescent energy, you embarked on the quest to find the perfect dress for you. ...

You stood before the mirror in the changing room, behind the curtain. The white dress with its ethereal blue hues As you contemplated how it would look on you, the dress felt like a second skin, embracing you in an intricate dance of lace and silk. The blue hues seemed to complement your complexion, bringing out the warmth in your skin.

As you admired yourself in the mirror, you heard a subtle rustling of fabric. You heard a voice you've grown quite familiar with over the last few days. Your gaze shifted towards the entrance. You stepped down from the platform and opened the curtain. There, occupying the spot where Rema had been sitting, was Wonwoo. His presence was unexpected, and your eyes met in a momentary connection that seemed to speak volumes without uttering a single word. In that fleeting instance, you saw a myriad of thoughts cross his features, a silent conversation that left you both a touch spellbound.

Rema returned from the restroom and noticed Wonwoo's presence, her eyebrows quirking up in surprise. Before you could ask, Rema beat you to it: "Mr. Jeon? What are you doing here?"

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. "Well, what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't assist her in selecting the dress?" Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. He was here, taking a genuine interest in the moment. But you know better than to believe in empty words. You couldn't help but wonder about the real reason behind Wonwoo's unexpected appearance. Just as the situation settled in, Chan entered the scene with a suit in hand. He shot a quizzical glance at Wonwoo before shifting his attention to the empty fitting room. "The fitting room is free now." Your curiosity eased, and within a few seconds, it was raised. Wonwoo's gaze shifted to Chan and then back to you. His lips curled into a gentle smile. "Never mind, Chan. I'll leave with the suit." ''Y/N'' ''Wonwoo''  With those words, Wonwoo turned to leave. Well, that wasn't awakward at all, you thought to yourself when he halted in his stride and looked over his shoulder, catching your eyes. ''Blue really is your colour. ''Blue really is your colour'' A soft, surprised smile tugged at your lips as Wonwoo's unexpected comment hung in the air. There was a complexity to him that you hadn't fully grasped yet, a depth that went beyond the surface.

The boutique's atmosphere seemed to shift with his departure, leaving you standing there with a lingering sense of his presence. You touched the fabric of the dress; the blue hues now carry a different significance. In the midst of wedding preparations and the whirlwind of events, there was a thread connecting you and Wonwoo, and you couldn't deny its pull.

With a sigh, you turned your attention back to the dresses.

...

...

A bittersweet atmosphere settled in your room, carrying a mix of excitement and nostalgia. As the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows, why not? It was the night before the wedding. You were packing your remaining belongings in the bag. There was a subtle knock on your door, and your father quietly entered the room. There was a gentle smile on his lips and a mixture of pride and affection in his eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice warm as he crossed the room to sit beside you. The anticipation of the big day hung in the air, but in this moment, it was just you and him, sharing a quiet connection.

"Hey, Dad," you replied, your own smile reflecting the emotions swirling within you. The upcoming wedding was a symbol of new beginnings, but it also marked a chapter closing—a shift in the dynamic you had always known.

He took a deep breath, a hint of nostalgia in his gaze. "You know, I can't believe my little girl is all grown up and getting married. There was a mixture of pride and a touch of sadness in his tone. He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was affectionate and comforting.

You leaned into his touch, feeling a surge of emotions welling up. "I can't believe it either," you admitted, your voice soft. It's a lot to take in."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on your face as if trying to capture this moment in his memory. "I want you to know, sweetheart, that no matter where life takes you, I'll always be here for you. Even if it's in a different way."

A lump formed in your throat, and you looked down for a moment, struggling to hold back tears. His words were a reassurance, a reminder that even as things changed, the bond between you two remained unbreakable.

"I know I wasn't always there," he continued, his voice slightly husky with emotion. "Work, responsibilities... I wish I could've been around more."

You shook your head gently, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "Dad, you've always been there when it mattered most. You've supported me in every decision and every step I've taken."

He let out a soft chuckle, a mixture of emotions in his eyes. "I suppose I have, haven't I?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "You've taught me so much, Dad. Your strength, your wisdom... I couldn't have asked for a better father."

His hand tightened around yours, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "And I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful daughter."

Feeling a lump in your throat, you shifted to sit on the ground and rested your head on his knees. He cupped your cheek with one hand and tenderly stroked your hair with the other. The silence between you was filled with unspoken emotions, a lifetime of memories, and love. ''You know, when your mother and I got married, our situation was so complex; at that time, she settled for a compromise. But look at where we are now. But I never wish that for you. I hope you're not doing it for any other reason except for love. Love... A sad smile graced your lips as memories flooded your mind, like delicate ripples on the surface of a pond. It was a quiet afternoon, just you and Ella sitting in her cosy living room. The warm sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden hue on everything it touched. And then, as if orchestrated by fate, Noel took his first steps, his chubby legs wobbling with effort.

Your heart swelled as his uncertain movements brought him closer to his mother. Ella's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and joy, and you both watched in awe as he made his way to her. The world seemed to hold its breath, and the atmosphere was infused with an indescribable tenderness.

And when Noel finally reached his destination, his arms extended towards Ella. There was a magical connection between mother and child. Time stood still as she rushed to embrace him, holding him close in a cocoon of love. The room was filled with laughter, a joyous symphony that resonated in the air like a soothing melody. In that intimate moment, the power of love was tangible. As you reminisced about that day, a sense of melancholy settled over you. Love had left its mark on that day, woven into the fabric of those shared experiences.

"I'm going to miss you, you know," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with both happiness and sadness.

"I'm going to miss you too, Dad," you replied, your voice muffled against his pants.

He continued to stroke your hair, a soothing gesture that seemed to say more than words ever could. As the night deepened, you found comfort in each other's presence, cherishing this moment of quiet connection before the new chapter began.

The day had finally arrived, and the world around you was a whirlwind of motion and preparation. The atmosphere was charged with energy as people moved about, setting up tables, arranging flowers, and making sure every detail was perfect. Your mother had chosen a garden wedding, and the weather was on your side—pleasant with a gentle sun that lacked the usual scorching heat. The air was filled with the soothing aroma of cafe au lait dahlias, adding to the enchantment of the day.

Your make-up artist, Ashton, worked meticulously on your hair, applying final touches with the expertise of an artist. Memories flooded back as one of his assistants passed him a pin, triggering a nostalgic smile on your face. You remembered the time you had done Noella's hair for her shotgun wedding, a playful fantasy shared between the two of you.

"I'll fulfil my 'Mama Mia' fantasy at your wedding," she remarked, her tone light and teasing.

"Or maybe at your second wedding," you replied, the humour shared between friends soothing her nerves.

"Y/N!" she playfully smacked you, and your laughter filled the room, mingling with the excitement that hung in the air, calming your own jitters. You took a moment to admire your work in the mirror, appreciating the intricate details you had crafted. Leaning down, your faces aligned in the reflection, and your eyes met through the glass.

"You look beautiful," you said sincerely.

She squeezed your hand, a mutual understanding passing between you. "You too." . As if on cue, your mother's presence graced the doorway, and you saw her reflection in the mirror. Her voice wavered with emotion as she spoke again, repeating the sentiment that hung in the air.

"You look beautiful," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them back, fighting to keep her composure. "I can't believe my princess is all grown up. Where did all the time go? It feels like yesterday when you used to sneak into my room, walking in heels way too big for you and smearing makeup all over your small face."

"Mama," a lump formed in your throat as you listened to her words, the weight of your own secrets pressing on your chest. You felt an overwhelming guilt for deceiving such loving parents.

"No, no," she continued, her voice softening. "Ashton did a wonderful job, and I wouldn't dare ruin it."

A light-hearted comment about the groom's arrival shifted the mood in the room. Your mother's words struck a chord, and you found yourself anxious for Wonwoo's presence. The room fell into a hushed silence as you waited.

"Is Wonwoo not here yet?" you questioned, concern edging in your voice.

"Well, his parents and assistant are here. We're just waiting for him. Once he arrives, we can proceed," she explained, his tone reassuring.

Your mother walked closer, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. She leaned in, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry and keep calm, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for her support, and settled back down as Ashton continued the finishing touches. In this whirlwind of emotions, your mother's words were a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the excitement and anticipation that surrounded your wedding day.

... Wonwoo was late. Wonwoo's realisation of his lateness weighed heavily on him. He had never intended to be late for such a significant day, but circumstances had their own plans. As he gathered his things and prepared to leave, your driver arrived with your suitcase, a reminder of the impending days before you both moved into your villa together, taking Noel along to join your new family. He sighed and placed his jacket in the back seat, ready to make his way.

But fate seemed to have a different agenda. Just as he was about to drive out of the parking lot, a figure stumbled in front of his car—a shock that sent him slamming on the brakes. "Eleanor?" he exclaimed, his heart skipping a beat as he recognised her. Rushing out of the car, concern etched on his face, he checked on her, his worry overshadowing his own delays. She had fallen, and he gathered her gently in his arms, searching for her pulse. The realisation hit him hard—she was intoxicated beyond comprehension.

"Wonniee, please... don't... please don't leave me, baby—please. Her words were broken, accompanied by sobs that seemed to pierce the air. In that moment, he looked down at the woman in his arms, the same woman who had once held his heart within her hands. She had shattered it without a second thought, walking away in pursuit of a better opportunity, something he had not been ready to offer, both mentally and emotionally. The signs of her true nature had been there all along—the disdain his parents held for her, her behaviour towards his peers and family. The binding of love had veiled his eyes, but now it was clear.

Gently lifting her, he carried her to the back seat of his car and laid her down. She continued to mumble incoherently, lost in her drunken haze. His thoughts drifted back to you—his family, waiting for his arrival, their anticipation mounting. He imagined his father's frustration and the tension building as time ticked away.

Arriving at his hotel suite, he carefully laid Eleanor on the bed, her form cradled by the mattress. But as he looked down at her, memories flooded back—moments they had shared, the intensity of their relationship that had once consumed him. She clung to him, her actions and words fueled by the alcohol that clouded her judgment. Her lips found his neck, leaving a stain of lipstick on his collar, a stark contrast to the path he had chosen.

His gaze softened as he regarded her for a moment, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. But above all, there was a deep sense of pity. I felt pity for her, for the choices she had made, for the pain she had caused. Without a word, he turned away from her and left the room, his heart heavy with the realisation of what could have been.

His thoughts returned to you, his family, and his commitment. There was a newfound clarity within him.

...

It seemed as if time was testing everyone's patience. You stood by the entrance to the garden, where you and Wonwoo were meant to make your grand entrance together. An hour had passed, and he was still nowhere in sight. The city hall officer stood patiently in the ordained spot, with your parents and family seated on the right side. Murmurs floated through the air, adding to the growing tension. Your mother's anxiety was palpable, and your father's clenched fists and jaws revealed his inner turmoil. Wonwoo's father wasn't faring much better; his frustration was evident. Sunmi held his hand, offering a silent source of comfort; her presence was a balm to his turmoil. He was even ashamed to look over at Kaori. He never thought that he would have to witness a day like this due to his son. Kaori maintained her composure, but the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on her thigh betrayed her true emotions to those who were observant.

From your vantage point, you could see it all—the emotions running high, the impatience growing tangible. Embarrassment started to seep in as you considered what to do next. Your gaze shifted to where Racheal was stationed, and you extended your bouquet to her. Your decision was clear.

"Very well—Racheal, inform everyone that the wedding is—"

However, a familiar voice interrupted your words, booming into the room. Sorry, I'm late. Shall we, Y/N?"

The atmosphere froze; everyone's attention was now fixed on Wonwoo's late arrival. Ashton and his assistant exchanged glances; Racheal and Chan were visibly tense. Chan was on the brink of sweating profusely.

Assessing him with a critical eye, you noticed the stain on his neck—an unspoken revelation of where he had been. Dissatisfaction rippled within you, mingling with a slight disappointment as your stomach churned with unease. His jacket bore the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

''Just a moment, Wonwoo. Ashton, please wipe Sir's neck." Ashton acted swiftly, stepping forward. "Yes, ma'am," Ashton replied, tending to the task at hand. Chan fumbled for a cologne and sprayed it onto Wonwoo's jacket, an attempt to mask the scent of alcohol. After collecting himself, Wonwoo extended his hand to you, a practiced smile on his lips as if to quell any unease.

You took his hand, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of emotions—unspoken disappointment and a lingering expectation. With practiced grace, you both began your march forward, arms intertwined, heading towards the altar. . However, from the back, a voice disrupted the air, loud enough for all to hear. "Young people these days, blinded by passion, make decisions they later regret."

"Tch, my poor niece Y/n," another voice chimed in. "I told Kaori—"

Your father's sudden rise from his seat cut off the comments, his stern presence demanding silence. He cleared his throat, poised to address the gathering, and the atmosphere shifted. Just as the tension was about to escalate, the violins began to play, diverting everyone's attention. All eyes turned towards the aisle, capturing the sight of you and Wonwoo, your arms linked and your practiced smiles firmly in place. The strains of the violins wrapped around you as you both stepped forward to embrace a new chapter of your lives.

Extra: Amidst the papers and organised chaos of the office, your father was engrossed in his work when his secretary's voice cut through the air, informing him that a certain Jeon Wonwoo was waiting to meet him. He nodded and gestured for Wonwoo to be brought in, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected visitor.

As Wonwoo entered, your father offered a polite nod and a gesture towards the chair opposite him. "Please, have a seat."

Wonwoo sat down, his posture displaying a mixture of respect and determination. "Thank you for seeing me, sir."

Your father studied him for a moment before getting straight to the point. "What brings you here, Son?"

Wonwoo cleared his throat, his eyes meeting your father's directly. "I've come here with a purpose, sir. I'd like to ask for your permission to propose to your daughter."

Your father's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. ‘Did Y/N asked you?’

“I’m afraid she’s not aware of it sir’’

"And why do you feel the need to ask for my permission?"

Wonwoo's gaze didn't waver as he responded, "Because from what I’ve observed she holds you you both in high regard and I respect her and I respect you, sir. I believe that family plays an important role in a relationship, and your blessing means a lot to me."

A thoughtful smile played on your father's lips. "Interesting. And what do you want from this relationship?"

Wonwoo's honesty shone through his eyes as he replied, "I'll be frank, sir. I can't say I'm madly in love with your daughter. But what I can promise is that life with her won't be ordinary. There will never be a dull day. With her, there's adventure, challenge, and growth."

Your father's laughter filled the room, a genuine amusement evident in his eyes. "You're quite the straightforward young man, Wonwoo."

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I believe in transparency, sir."

Your father leaned forward, his demeanour serious once again. "Tell me, do you want her or what she has?"

Wonwoo's answer was unwavering, his voice steady. "I want her. Her personality, her spirit, and her presence I want her in my life."

Your father leaned forward, his expression softening. "You know, Y/n is a force to be reckoned with. She has her dreams and her own world. I won't let her be with someone who doesn't see her worth."

Wonwoo met your father's gaze with sincerity. "I understand that, and I respect her dreams. I promise to always support her aspirations and give her the space she needs."

A thoughtful silence lingered between them before your father finally spoke; his tone softened. "You know, Wonwoo, marriage isn't just about love. It's about understanding, respect, and partnership. It's about navigating life's challenges together."

Wonwoo nodded, absorbing your father's words. "I understand that, sir. And I'm willing to put in the effort and commitment to make it work."

A warm smile spread across your father's face. "You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. Determined and unafraid to speak your mind, Alright, son, you have my permission."

Wonwoo's gratitude was evident in his eyes as he extended a hand to shake your father's. "Thank you, sir. I won't take this opportunity lightly."

With a firm handshake, your father concluded, "I trust you won't. Take care of her, Wonwoo."

As Wonwoo left the office that day, he carried with him not just your father's permission but also a sense of responsibility and a newfound bond.

tbc.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Jeez bro, wonwoo you pissed the wrong girl ngl, well the brownie points he gained by this act of chivalry are in trouble. Do let me know how you liked this 11k monster.

xx

msh

[omeletcat]

ALRIGHT SO, lets talk about text boxes, in almost every game, at least any that have a good story, have a text box where you can talk to the npc's. usually its a box below the screen with at least a name and then text in the middle, but i've been thinking about them a a lot, since the type of textbox for my game would impact the overall vibe A LOT, i want every chapter of my game to have a different vibe, my plans all have different themes for each town and place they go to. meaning that i want my text box to be simplistic and not to attracting. So i went to toby fox! , i love toby fox and his overal vibe, his text boxes are very simple, it has a white outlining and just a general black and white vibe with a single image of the character you are talking too.

Deltarune does smth similair except more detailed portraits and those little thingy's at the corners. i do have to say, as much as i admire Toby fox, and love his music... i have never played any of his games because i am broke as fuck i have played a bit of a demo before but that was AGGES ago, but AS SOON as i have enough money i will try it out!

BUT i don't want to copy toby fox, so i will try and take inspo from other games i like (and also havent played because i am broke...)

That and i find the black and white vibe to be to simplistic for my maximalist mind. So then another game i LOVE the art is great i have also been listening to its music before i knew it was from a game (and i also havent played it caus i'm broke..) OMORI!!

Omori also has a very simple vibe to it but it has multiple boxes 1 portrait that changes a lot! and a thingy where you can see the name of the person you are talking to! i also remember from a random jaiden animation stream i watched where she played Omori, that omori has a lot of cutesy text animations where it moves at certain words to give of better vibes, tone and emotions to what the npc's are saying.

Then one of the games i haven't played BUT i have seen almost every ending is the class of 09, the game that inspired me to make a game, then learn how to code, and decide to work on a completely different game lol

class of 09 is way different then omori and toby fox games. it has a very clear vibe to it, the paper and all is great, but it wouldn't work for me. something i LOVE is something that isn't rly a part of the text box, but the thing behind it. the fact that you can see 2 full body drawings of the characters (the player and the npc for example, just 2 characters in this specific one tho) and basic actions, and movements gives them SOO. MUCH PERSONALITY. i love pixel art, but its hard to animate emotions into them, and especially in my artstyle. so i always thought i'd learn to make more detailed images of my characters with a bunch of different poses and smash them together like pngtuber. that way you can see the person you are talking to and it would give them so much more personality and i would be able to draw all the little things i want to add to the sprites, but can't because its to small.

i also have Stardew in mind (A GAME I ACTUALLY PLAY) as just as omori it has a portrait and a name, then a text part, it has a wood theming just like all the ui in the game, and that fits stardew Perfectly! butt i don't know what that would be for my game.

So to make a conclusion, i need to design a simple, but interesting ui, with a place for a name, text and an at least torso and up image of the person you are talking to! then i either need to choose for a single colour and outline, or i can go the class of 09 and stardew vibe, and pick a texture and a vibe that fits the game, but since every chapter will be somewhere completely different (stardew is always in the valley and class of 09 is in a school most of the time so their textures fit)

so what would be a good texture that fits the vibe of the game, has a simple texture that won't class with completelly different themes of each chapter, has a perfect way to show the npc in the frame, and just... looks good.

the theming around my game is fairly simple, a kid's soul shatters into pieces and they try and find the pieces to find out who they were and how to ended up in the spirit world, meeting different people who all have differen story's on how they ended up in the spirit world, and spiritis themselves.

i have thought about maybe theming it around stars, since it is a MASSIVE part of the lore and aesthetic of the game, in the spirit world, there is no sun or moon, and stars float around that give off heat and light to the world. so i could do a galaxy textured textbox? but i feel thats to themed.\

anyway what do y'all think!! this is a rlyyyy long post that i've been thinking about making for ages now! pls tell me what you think i should do!!

[marley-manson]

Do you have any petpeaves regarding the M*A*S*H fandom?

lol sure i'll take the opportunity provided to express a few, ty for the ask!

Overall Mash fandom is pretty awesome imo, and I actually don't have many compared to a lot of fandoms I've been in, and the ones I do have tend to apply to most fandoms anyway lol, they're staples of fandom in general.

-- The biggest one is probably the common take that Hawkeye is insecure, self-loathing, emotionally repressed, thinks he doesn't deserve love, yadda yadda yadda. This isn't really Mash specific because the bad-self-esteem-ray hits every bottom in fandom at some point lol, but it's extra grating in Mash fandom for me because to me it feels more blatantly OOC than most versions of this.

Now to be fair to fandom there are a few scattered lines throughout the series you can take out of context to justify this take, and one bad episode that provably contradicts the rest of the show (Who Knew), but I feel like you have to stretch like a gymnast to justify it and ignore 99% of the rest of the show and Hawkeye's behaviour.

And it's boring and flattens Hawkeye to a caricature of someone else imho.

-- Generally, and again this applies to all fandoms lbr, I dislike the way a lot of people need to jump to accusations of bigotry to justify their personal preferences. One example I've seen a couple of times that's absolutely bizarre to me is the take that if Klinger gets dicked down and/or feminized in fic it's because of racist fetishization. That's Maxwell Q. Klinger, the dude who wears dresses throughout most of the show and canonically grows to genuinely enjoy it. And even if he was 100% masculine, that's what a lot of fandom does to every single dude they love ever lol, all it means is that Klinger has a fanbase, which is a good thing. imo attitudes like these help contribute to non-white characters getting less fanworks about them, and while I don't think it's prevalent enough in Mash fandom to have a negative effect, I've seen it destroy other ships featuring characters of colour.

Another example is the classic bad take that if you don't ship women in het or interpret a heterosexual relationship as doomed/not romantic/etc, it's because of misogyny lol. It's not hugely common in Mash fandom but I've seen it occasionally from BJ/Peg shippers and the very occasional Margaret enthusiast.

Oh and another example is that depicting Hawkeye as effeminate is homophobia. Again, this is Hawkeye, the dude who proudly calls himself unmanly in various ways every episode and makes 50 jokes about wanting to get fucked in the ass. Frankly it's a bigger stretch to me to assume he wouldn't easily and happily adopt actual effeminate body language/phrasing and tone if he's, say, at the bar and wants to pull a top. Or maybe even just if there are no straight people around, yk? Why not? The take that writing unmasculine men is offensive is a fandom classic and usually strikes me itself as homophobic, gender essentialist, and basically just someone's masc4masc kink masquerading as an issue.

Like to be clear there is certainly bigotry in the Mash fandom, as in every fandom, and it's worth discussing, and sometimes depending on context it can even apply in the above cases (eg if a fic about Klinger getting dicked down earnestly described him as idk exotic or something, or if people who 'feminize' male characters take it to silly extremes and start writing meta about how these men are woman-coded/victims of misogyny lol) but this ain't it chief, this is people repackaging their own pet peeves in social justice language to win perceived arguments, and it's a bad vibe.

-- This one IS fairly Mash specific lol, and to be clear it's 100% harmless and just something that makes me roll my eyes sometimes because I'm not into it myself and it strips away the things I do like about the ship: the way a lot of Hawk/BJ fans headcanon BJ as much more supportive and sensitive to Hawkeye than he actually is, by taking various things he does and assuming he does them for Hawkeye, like he's constantly aware of Hawkeye's unexpressed needs and catering to them.

Yk, he wears pink shirts for Hawkeye! He grew the moustache for Hawkeye (never mind that Hawkeye hates it)! He stole Hawkeye's joke to give Hawkeye enrichment because Hawkeye loves... being upset I guess. Joker Is Wild? All for Hawkeye because Hawkeye loves being paranoid and alienating people. (The reasoning I've actually seen is that Hawkeye loves having an excuse to throw a tantrum lol). He totally comforts Hawkeye when Hawkeye is upset, they just never show it. He is devoted to Hawkeye, he'd do anything for him, ignore the episodes where he calls him crazy and ditches him while he's facing adversity. He's Hawkeye's emotional support!

I've seen it in serious meta and casual headcanons and fic where BJ just falls into role of tender, emotionally intelligent emotional support like it's an assumed part of their dynamic despite not only never seeing that in canon, but Hawkeye actually pointing out multiple times that BJ is not very supportive.

It's also a misreading of Hawkeye who is actually the emotional support of their friendship, rather than vice versa, and tends to go hand in hand with my first pet peeve: Hawkeye as an emotionally insecure, repressed mess lol. BJ goes to him when he needs a shoulder to cry on, something consistent to the point of it being a way to manipulate Hawkeye in Picture This. Not vice versa. Hawkeye goes to Margaret or Mulcahy or Sidney. The only example I can think of where BJ provides emotional support (by which I mean listening to Hawkeye's emotional concerns and offering supportive input) to Hawkeye is the end of Comrades in Arms, and it's like the bare minimum of fulfilling the typical best friend on tv role.

(I like that BJ doesn't fulfill that role tbh! It's more interesting that way, it makes their dynamic feel more unique and intriguing.)

-- Also people who think Mash got more progressive in the later seasons. I think it demonstrates a shallow understanding of the political implications of the show. Getting rid of the character with a slur for a nickname doesn't automatically equal less racist, it's just an easy thing to point to that doesn't require much critical thought. And the growing feminist concerns go hand in hand with depicting republicans, patriots, and racist imperialistic military commanders as good people.

And to be fair I sympathize with this take, I've seen it everywhere from fandom to grumbling republicans complaining about mash getting preachier to professionally written retrospectives and academic analysis lol, so it's not like I hold fandom to higher standards. The ways Mash grows more regressive are more insidious, and the problems in the early seasons are much more obvious and in your face than in the later seasons. And there will always be some debate on whether eg rampant womanizing is worse than pro-imperialism messages, though I know what side I fall on there.

But imo it still sucks that it's such a popular opinion.

-- The emphasis on found family, especially in a 'the war brought them together' sense. Any hint of gratitude that the war let them meet people they love in fic, or whatever. This is something I can't completely blame on fandom because the show itself veered uncomfortably close to this a few times too in the later years, but yeah I'm not a fan. To me the most important aspect of Mash is the fact that they all hate it there, the war is worse than hell, they're virtually prisoners trapped in a nightmare, and any of the draftees would absolutely trade those relationships for an end to the war or just a ticket home. Their friendships are less a silver lining and more a painkiller that just barely takes the edge off. I think this vibe is clearer in the first half of the show, but that's yet another reason the first half is better and more progressive politically lol. And it doesn't disappear in the latter half either, just gets a bit more muddied.

-- This kind of goes hand in hand with the above points, but I feel like it's more of an older Mash fandom issue that I encounter when archive diving moreso than a thing currently (though I do occasionally still see it these days): fans who actively like the military stuff lol. I've read fic where dog tags are kinked on/romanticized, fic that depicts draft-dodging as bad, etc. These days it's more stuff in line with the worst parts of canon, like taking Potter at face value as a Good authority figure who deserves respect because of his military experience, but yeah. Don't like that.

-- Okay that's all I got off the top of my head. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to whine lol