#it helps if you can give an explanation of WHY it works to split too! sometimes understanding the mechanics goes a long way towards-

[renskaji]

shameless focus

hajime umemiya x reader, wc: 1.6k, req? yes! find it here!

It’s no secret that the head of Bofurin was strong. 

He has to be, if he’s going to lead a whole high school of delinquents. Fights and turf wars are just as common as heavy physical labor for the townspeople. And he fills his role with a dedication rarely seen in someone as young as he is. 

Hajime Umemiya loves his team. 

He loves his garden almost as much. 

When you’d arrived at Furin high nearly an hour earlier, Hiragi had been relieved to see you. And not just because he’s one of your closest friends, but your arrival meant that he was free to escape Umemiya’s endless rambling about his plants. 

You didn’t mind taking Hiragi’s place as Umemiya’s rooftop company, having brought your schoolwork to do on the covered picnic table nearby. It’s almost a ritual the two of you had fallen easily into, though you’re trying not to think about how easy it is to just exist with Umemiya. 

“Ever thought about growing flowers?” You ask, calling out to your plant-obsessed friend between his explanations about why he chose each specific vegetable that he has situated in the pots. You’re focused on your schoolwork, but you’ve always been willing to split your attention when Umemiya is involved. 

“Hm, can’t say I have.” He calls back after a moment of contemplation. “I like growing food that I can share with my friends. But if you tell me what kind of flowers you prefer, I’ll try and grow them for you!” 

He’s so genuine, you can’t help but flush. 

“Umemiya, you charmer—” You start to tease him, grin on your lips as you glance up from your homework for the first time in a while, and you nearly freeze on the spot. 

You’ve always known that Hajime Umemiya was far from the standard man. He’s sweet, and kind, and gives everything his all without compromising his own beliefs. He’s also dangerously attractive, too. Half your school has a crush on him, and you know you fall into that category as well. 

Still, you find yourself at a loss for words when you look up and find Umemiya kneeling beside his garden bed, skin slick with sweat from working and t-shirt sleeves bunching up around his biceps to show off the fruits of his years of physical labor.

You realize you’re staring, but the sight before you is just too good for you to look away from. 

It’s only after he calls your name—what you hope is only once—that you snap back to reality and remember just where you are. You turn your head to the side to keep Umemiya from your line of sight, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fight against the blush threatening to expose the crush you’re already doing a horrible enough job of hiding. 

“Are you getting too warm? Your face is looking a little red.” Umemiya says in a casual tone, and it only serves to make you blush brighter. You try and regain control enough to face him, but you know the longer you refuse to meet his stare the more suspicious you’ll look, so you grit your teeth and suffer the consequences. 

You regret it immediately. Because the moment you look over at him, he’s lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat and dirt from his face. The action, which is already incredibly attractive on its own, reveals the lower part of his torso. 

And realistically, you knew Umemiya had abs. But knowing about them and seeing them in person are two entirely different things. 

In your panic to keep from reacting to the sight before you, you accidentally bite your tongue. Still, you risk another glance at Umemiya, just for a chance at seeing the muscle he’s built over the years. You’ve never felt as hopelessly shameless as you do right then. 

“Yeah, the heat.” You stumble over your words when you realize that he’s waiting for your response, a small grin curving his oh so kissable lips skyward. You need to get off the roof to regain your sanity, but no part of you is willing to walk away from the sight Umemiya provides you. “How much longer are you going to be up here?”

“I’ve got to finish repotting these plants, and then we can go somewhere cooler.” He promises. There's only about three seedlings left in the pile he gestured towards, and you think you can force yourself to focus on your homework long enough to last. “You know, it would go a lot faster if you help me. I can teach you!” 

You swear Umemiya must know what he’s doing, because he pairs his request with one of his blinding smiles, and you’re abandoning your homework at the table to join him by the garden bed before you know it. 

Once more, your attention is split between Umemiya and something you should be learning, which is troublesome, because Umemiya is supposed to be the one teaching you. But it’s impossible to focus, you think, with him so close and looking so good. Sure, he’s covered in sweat from working and he’s got dirt smudged across his jaw, but he’s giving you directions in his deep voice and his hair is starting to come loose from the gel as a result of his labors. 

And really, who can blame you for checking out the Hajime Umemiya when he’s so willingly including you in the things he loves the most?

“Did you catch that?” He asks, and you’re like a deer in headlights with your wide-eyed look. Because you absolutely did not catch anything he said after his request to join him on the ground by the plants. 

He chuckles, and you know you’ve been caught out, but there’s no time to feel embarrassed by your inability to focus as he sets his large hands over yours. He’s guiding you through the motions of repotting the seedlings—gently removing it from the original pot, carefully shaking the loose dirt to free up the roots, setting it in its new home, and filling in the extra space with new soil. It’s all strangely intimate, though you wonder if you only feel that way because you’re doing it with Umemiya’s hands leading yours. 

“There. It’s as easy as that.” He smiles proudly at you, his attention focused on your face and not the plant you’d just repotted together. “Now, what’s got you so distracted today?”

Of course, it’s just like him to not let things go when he thinks something’s bothering you. 

Now that you’re sitting so close to him, it’s harder to hide the evidence of your staring. It’s even worse when he gently takes one of your hands between his own, brushing the loose dirt from your skin. You feel yourself burning from the inside out as the gentle touch, so considerate and so Umemiya, you think you might lose your mind soon. 

In a matter of seconds, actually. 

Your breaking point comes the next breath later, when he reaches for the hem of his shirt again, pulling the fabric forward to wipe stubborn dirt away from you.

You see another glimpse of his abs, and you snap. 

“I’m trying really hard to be casual but you’re making it difficult when you look this hot!” You jerk your hand away from him, face aflame, not entirely certain you believe you actually said all that. 

There’s a few seconds where Umemiya is processing your words where you’re planning every possible escape route from the roof. Unfortunately, there’s only one viable option, and you’re certain that he’d be able to catch you before you got too far away. 

But then a grin cracks through the confusion on his face, and you’re the one suddenly left guessing which direction the conversation is about to go. 

“You could’ve just said that!” He beams. You’re not sure what he means by that, so you wait for him to continue. “I worked hard for these muscles. You can feel them, if you want. Only ‘cause it’s you, though.” 

It’s such an odd declaration, seemingly out of place in what you thought would be a normal afternoon of homework and listening to his plant ramblings, that it’s your turn to take a few seconds to process what he said.

When he doesn’t immediately rescind the offer, or laughs like he’s just joking, you slowly reach out and lay a hand on his bicep. He flexes, just to show off, and you know without a doubt that all your thoughts about how strong he is were nothing short but true. 

If Umemiya wasn’t the kindest, most honest person you knew, you might have been worried that he was only letting you feel up his arm to tease you about it. But it’s Umemiya, so you know he has his reasons, and you’re trying not to get your own hopes up as you retract your hands back into your lap. 

That doesn’t mean you stop ogling his muscles, though.

“Now, let’s finish repotting these last two seedlings, and maybe I’ll take off my shirt for you.” He grins, just a tad more of a smirk than a smile. You feel like you’ve been caught out, like a kid with one hand in the cookie jar. “Since you like seeing my abs so much.”

Oh god. He knew you were checking him out the entire time.

But for some reason, the knowledge that he knew from the start gives you permission to be even more shameless. A smirk of your own curves your lips as you reach for the next plant.

“Help me again, Hajime?”

[qiu-yan]

all of the above are plot elements i've seen be called "plot holes" in various MDZS forums and discussions.

please explain your reasoning in the notes!!!!

explanations / possible fillings for plot holes:

qin su and abortions: one major reason why jin guangyao did not call off his marriage to qin su even after finding out that they were actually half-siblings is that qin su was already pregnant by that point, as the two had had premarital sex. it seems like this problem could be fixed, though, if jin guangyao caused qin su to miscarry somehow (eg. by sneaking abortifacients into her tea).

potential explanations:

abortifacients don't work on cultivators

jin guangyao wanted to respect qin su's bodily autonomy and did not want to cause her pain by causing her to miscarry, but he also could not think of an argument that would convince qin su to willingly get an abortion.

even if the pregnancy disappeared, it was still too late for jin guangyao to call off the marriage.

wen ning agreeing to help with the golden core transfer: at the time of the golden core transfer, wen ning already cares a great deal for wei wuxian - i mean, he betrayed his entire sect by smuggling jiang cheng out of the occupied lotus pier just because wei wuxian, who was nice to him once about his archery, asked him to. meanwhile, wen ning must have known what was actually going on once wei wuxian decided to transfer his golden core to jiang cheng, given that wen ning helped wen qing with the procedure. now, to me, it seems that if you care about someone, you should not allow them to literally give essential parts of themselves away and should instead try to prevent them from acting so self-destructively. to me, it seems that if wen ning really did care about wei wuxian, then he should have stopped wei wuxian from setting himself on fire to keep someone else warm.

possible explanations:

to wen ning, [helping someone do something they're determined to do, even if said thing is self-destructive] is a bigger demonstration of love and care than [imposing your own will over theirs by stopping them from self-destructing].

wei wuxian threatened to kill himself if wen ning and wen qing didn't help him with the golden core transfer.

wen ning legitimately thought that wei wuxian would be fine without his golden core and/or underestimated the negative consequences for wei wuxian, and thus did not perceive this as a self-harming act.

wen ning cared more about getting wei wuxian's approval and keeping wei wuxian happy than he cared about wei wuxian's physical and mental wellbeing.

once wen qing and wei wuxian committed to the golden core transfer, wen ning did not have the courage to speak up against them and/or saw that disagreeing would be useless.

wen ning also wanted to know if his sister's theory would work.

wei wuxian and lying about wen zhuliu getting him: one of the major factors straining jiang cheng and wei wuxian's relationship post-sunshot is that wei wuxian is no longer able to perform many of the second-in-command duties he had promised jiang cheng he would do, but he cannot tell jiang cheng why (ie. because he no longer has a golden core) because he does not want jiang cheng to find out that wei wuxian gave jiang cheng his own golden core. however, it seems like wei wuxian could get around this by telling jiang cheng that wen zhuliu also got wei wuxian later, which is both highly plausible and would explain why wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore without suggesting any sort of transfer.

potential explanations:

wei wuxian didn't want jiang cheng to know at all that he didn't have a golden core anymore.

wei wuxian worried that any hint of "wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore" would eventually lead to jiang cheng figuring out the truth about the golden core transfer.

wei wuxian doesn't want jiang cheng to feel guilty about "stealing" wei wuxian's "chance to meet baoshan sanren and get his core restored."

wei wuxian doesn't want to think about the fact that he no longer has a golden core at all.

wei wuxian didn't think of this. (plausible given wei wuxian's personality)

wen remnants not changing their names and going into hiding: after wei wuxian busts the wen remnants out of the qiongqi pass labor camp, he sets up shop in the yiling burial mounds with himself as their protector; this way, neither the jin nor anyone else can try to harm the wen remnants, because they'd have to go through wei wuxian first. however, what this decision also entails is that all of the wen remnants are now highly associated with wei wuxian; thus, once wei wuxian's reputation goes south enough, all the wen remnants under his protection get dragged down and killed with him. it seems that some of the less high-profile wen remnants (ie. the ones who are not wen ning or wen qing) could have avoided this had they changed their names and gone into hiding, preferably somewhere far away from this part of the jianghu, instead of all sticking together in the highly-visible burial mounds. even if lanling jin and the other sects have a high amount of influence in the local area, there's still an entire world out there; they could have tried fleeing to a different country. even if this option is not possible, at the very least, it should have been discussed and shot down (with an explanation) in the story.

possible explanations:

the burial mounds were under constant surveillance, so there was no chance for the wen remnants to escape without getting caught and killed.

lanling jin's influence is so far-reaching and powerful that there was no way the wen remnants could have fled far enough to go into hiding without getting caught first.

the wen remnants wanted to keep their family name and stick together with their family members.

the option was discussed and dismissed as implausible entirely offscreen.

jiang cheng not hunting down xue yang: the story's narration states that jiang cheng is widely believed to have consistently hunted down, tortured, and killed countless demonic cultivators, specifically because he believes they could be wei wuxian resurrected. meanwhile, xue yang is fairly well known due to his incredibly public massacre of the chang sect and then baixue temple and subsequent employment by lanling jin. furthermore, after xue yang was removed from jinlintai, xue yang set up shop in yi city, where he very openly killed a bunch of people and turned them into fierce corpses; in fact, one could consider the ghost-town status of yi city at the story's start to be due in no small part to xue yang's actions. however, despite xue yang being a very well-known demonic cultivator who has continued to openly demonically-cultivate, nothing in the text suggests that jiang cheng ever tried to hunt down xue yang. this seems to present a contradiction with the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down demonic cultivators.

possible explanations:

jiang cheng already knows that xue yang was not wei wuxian, so he doesn't care about xue yang.

jiang cheng fully believes that jin guangyao successfully killed xue yang upon becoming sect leader jin, and yi city is remote enough that no mention of xue yang's activities has ever reached jiang cheng.

jiang cheng got his ass kicked by xue yang entirely offscreen and it just never came up in the story.

the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down and killing demonic cultivators are not entirely correct.

lan wangji freely ditching lan xichen at the end of the story: the story ends with lan xichen basically getting put into the blender. first he finds out that his bestie jin guangyao actually orchestrated the death of nie mingjue and super lied about it, and then he's tricked by nie huaisang into stabbing jin guangyao. he's not doing too great. yet, at the end of the guanyin temple scene, instead of checking on his brother or even offering a single "are you okay?", lan wangji immediately fucks off into the sunset with wei wuxian. given that lan xichen was relatively supportive of lan wangji during lan wangji's 13 years of mourning, to many on this website, this reads as a failure of familial duties that lan wangji goes entirely uncriticized for by the narrative.

possible explanations:

it was an intentional writing decision and not a plot hole. MXTX thinks that, because lan xichen failed to see through jin guangyao's lies, lan xichen therefore deserves to suffer, so lan wangji is morally justified in ding dong ditching him.

lan wangji did screw up here, but it's an internally-consistent writing decision, not a plot hole. lan wangji is meant to read as a younger brother character who is more used to being taken care of than taking care of others.

no lube: at the end of the story, wei wuxian and lan wangji fuck nasty in some bushes. without any lube. the lack of some sort of lubricant, at least, doesn't seem to cause any problems with the anal sex itself.

possible explanations:

cultivator's asses are self-lubricating, or at the very least repair damage at an incredibly high speed.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian was a virgin up until now so he just thinks this is normal.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian is into it.

there was lube op just forgot (plausible because i only skimmed that section)

almost every sect leader unmarried: in this sort of setting, where blood and not ability determines inheritance, it seems like producing heirs and thus securing the future of the sect/clan should be of the highest importance. however, nie mingjue, lan xichen, jiang cheng, and later nie huaisang are all unmarried, and don't seem to have any heirs either. this goes doubly for the nie sect, who know themselves that they live shorter lives due to their cultivation style.

potential explanations:

cultivators live a really long time so it's not as pressing an issue.

there are wives and heirs, they are just offscreen.

gonna be real boss i got nothing else

[razrbladekiss]

TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.

PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)

WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.

Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.

Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“

“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”

He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.

“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“

“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”

“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“

I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.

BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.

“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.

Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.

“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”

He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.

But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.

Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.

He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”

Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.

Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.

Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.

But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.

[inkandtension]

Infertile & Expecting

for: my fav @minniebbang

I hope you like this!

Paring: Hyunjin x Reader.

JYP wasn’t always what people assumed it to be. To the outside world, it was a sleek, powerhouse advertising agency dotted across Seoul’s business district, with too many interns and not enough espresso. But inside, it was chaos. And inside that chaos, there was AWs — Abroad Works, a sub-division that specialized in foreign campaigns, international collaborations, and very weird visa paperwork.

The CEO of AWs was Minho. Terrifying in his management style — pounce without warning, disappear without explanation.

Jisung was the editor sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued, and constantly muttering about how coffee should be a basic right, not a privilege.

Hyunjin was the model with chiseled features, dramatic sighs, and allergic to punctuality. Changbin handled business talks but today, he wasn’t around. Something about a family emergency, a cousin’s wedding, and a goat.

Which brought us to the meeting room on a Tuesday afternoon that smelled like rain and ramen.

Minho, slid a folder across the table to Jisung. “You’re going to the US next month. Florida. Big project. Only you and Hyunjin are here today, and you already know…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Everyone knew. If earth split open and Hyunjin fell in, Minho might ask for receipts before helping.

Jisung blinked. “Okay. Thanks?”

Two hours later, Jisung was editing a banner of Hyunjin standing next to a suitcase for an ad titled “Pack Light, Travel Bright.” He smirked and added a mosquito near his perfect jawline. Payback for last week’s snide comment.

Suddenly, the door creaked.

Hyunjin.

Big eyes. Very big eyes. The kind you make when your pride has been crushed, marinated, sauted, and served on a plate with grass.

“Can I have… one hour?”

Jisung blinked once. “What?”

“One hour. Just one. Please.”

“…why?”

“Just… come. I’ll pay.”

They ended up at a tiny dumpling shop near the station. Hyunjin didn't touch the menu. Just leaned forward like he was about to propose.

“I want to go to the US.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “And?”

“And… if you decline the offer, since Changbin-hyung is out, I’ll be next in line. Minho-hyung won’t have a choice.”

“...Why should I give that up?”

Hyunjin’s lips twitched. There it was. The ego crack.

He leaned back, groaned once, rubbed his face like this physically hurt him.

Then launched forward.

"Okay, listen. All my friends went abroad, okay? All of them. Seoul National, USC, NYU, some went to san francisco—I didn’t even know that was a real place! Every single one of them posts stories in their dumb little fake American accents like “It’s snowingg guyssss!” and “Starbucks hits different here.”

You know what I post? Selfies with cutouts of detergent brands!! I have ONE wish in life, Han Jisung. Just ONE!!"

He paused dramatically. Then said, slowly, “I want to pick up the phone and say in the most forced American accent ever: ‘I'm in Florida. It’s raining like hell. Ohhh ma gawwwd.’”

Jisung’s face remained unimpressed. “No.”

Hyunjin blinked. “No?”

“Why would I give up this opportunity for a.....joke?”

Hyunjin’s face contorted. His hands clenched. His jaw twitched.

And he whisper-screamed, desperate, The rarest word in his vocabulary.

“PLEASE.”

The next month was approaching fast, and with it, Jisung’s all-expenses-paid trip to florida, complete with fancy accommodations, American coffee, and a glorious break from office drama.

Unfortunately, “drama” had legs, a jawline, and an endless supply of turtlenecks.

Hyunjin had entered full pestering mode. Like Jisung’s success was a war crime.

He started small — delivering Jisung’s coffee exactly the way he liked it (which was suspicious in itself), complimenting his editing work “Wow, this is almost art, Jisung-ah” (he cropped the picture), and even offering to carry his tripod bag. Jisung did not own a tripod bag. So Hyunjin bought him one.

By Friday, Jisung had enough. He slammed his sandwich onto the desk and turned, half-bread, half-murder in his eyes.

“You know what? If you wanna go to the US so bad, just buy a damn ticket and leave! Not that hard!”

Hyunjin stared at him like he’d just said “jump off a bridge.”

“I can’t,” he said, voice dropping like tragic violins in the background. “I literally can’t.”

Jisung squinted. “What, do you owe someone money?”

“No.” Sigh.

“My dad,” Hyunjin began, “is deeply religious. Like...‘calls a shaman before ordering takeout’ religious.”

Jisung blinked.

“My mom too. And my grandma — don’t even get me started, she calls me ‘sin magnet.’ Anyway, this one shaman my dad adores — some guy named Master Jido or Judo or something — apparently saw my face in a rice bowl and said I have bad travel omens.”

“A rice bowl?”

“Yeah, and since then, my dad’s convinced I shouldn’t cross the Korean Peninsula. He cancelled my trip to Japan in high school, he deleted my US college applications. Said, and I quote, ‘the wind outside Korea will swallow his luck and spit him back without eyebrows.’”

Jisung stared at him like he’d just aged 15 years. “You have GOT to be joking.”

“I WISH,” Hyunjin cried, hands flailing. “Do you know what it’s like to watch your school friends post beach pictures from Malibu while you’re stuck doing toilet flush product commercials in front of a green screen rain cloud?!”

Jisung squnted his eyes, then exhaled deeply. “Hyunjin, you think I’m that dumb?” Jisung asked.

There was silence. Then—

“Because...Mr. Lee only listens to you,” Hyunjin blurted. “You say the sky’s green, he believes it! Say your grandma died, and boom — you’re free.”

Jisung paused, jaw twitching. “You want me to say...my grandma died?”

Hyunjin grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently. “YES! If I said it, he’d call the hospital to check if I was lying. You say it, he’ll send flowers, plus a free trip to fiji for your mental well-being.”

Jisung yanked himself free, appalled. “Hell no! What’s wrong with you?!”

But Hyunjin wasn’t stopping. He was already on his knees, quite literally begging on the carpet Minho once declared “imported Italian” hands clasped like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

“PLEASE!”

Jisung sighed.

“Enough diversions and lying.” Jisung snapped, getting up.

“I WASN'T LYING!”

“okay, half lying.”

Hyunjin pulled out a small blue notebook.

Opened it.

Then… lifted it up.

And hid his face behind it. Peeking from behind the page… were two guilty brown eyes. Wide. Dramatic. Trapped.

“See, man. Be honest with me. We’ve had unnecessary beef for, like, forever. You mocked my editing, I insulted your hair — that’s history. But now, suddenly, you throw away all your pride just for a wish to go to the US?”

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh and took a mighty slurp of the cold drink before him — one of those neon-colored, sugar-overloaded concoctions that looked more dangerous than hydropower. The moment the freezing hit the roof of his mouth, he jerked in his seat.

“Brainfreeze—owowowow—okay, listen,” he whimpered, eyes squeezed shut like he was physically preparing to relive a decade-old heartbreak. “I’ll tell you.”

He placed the drink down, straightened his shoulders, and began:

“There was a girl.”

Jisung blinked.

“A girl?” he echoed, already unimpressed.

“She transferred to our school when I was thirteen. A foreigner, one of the two foreigh transfer students. Always carried this clunky DSLR, like a third arm. Nobody talked to her much. But one day, my bicycle, which was a girls one, was parked next to hers and—”

“Wait.” Jisung frowned. “Why were you riding a girl’s bicycle?”

Hyunjin looked mortified. “…The shaman. He said the top tube on boys cycles was dangerous for my family lineage.”

Jisung snorted so hard his straw jumped. “Bro WHAT.”

“I didn’t question it! I was twelve!”

Jisung was full-on laughing now. “What, it was gonna erase your family tree or something?”

“Yes!” Hyunjin cried in frustration. “They said I’d never have children and the family name would end!”

Wheezing, Jisung wiped his eyes, doubling up. “Oh my God, man.”

Hyunjin glared but pushed on, determined. “Anyway. She didn’t laugh at my bike. That mattered. Most people did. Like you. she didnt laugh even when i told her.”

“She and I became…accidental friends. We never hung out alone or anything. She would laugh at everything I said. And one Christmas, I wrote her this card. It had a picture of Amelia Island on it, super random, no snow or anything — just a beach. But I don’t know, it reminded me of her. I gave it anonymously.”

Jisung tilted his head. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“She read it during recess. No expression. Blank. Next day, she comes to me, asks, ‘Did you write this?’” Hyunjin scoffed. “I panicked. Said no. Then mocked the card I made. Called it lame. Said it looked like a brochure for lost tourists.”

Jisung winced. “Smooth.”

“She didn’t laugh. Just… stared at me and said, ‘That card made me feel something for the first time this winter.’ Then she walked away.”

Jisung, now slightly invested, raised a brow. “Oof.”

“I never told her I wrote it” Hyunjin admitted.

A pause.

Jisung squinted. “And what does this possibly have to do with you going to the US?”

Hyunjin waved his hand. “Let me finish.”

Jisung looked at the half-drunk cold drink, then back at Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I can reject the offer. You’ll get the slot instead. But then... how will you convince your family?”

Hyunjin sipped the last of his drink slowly.

Looked out the window.

And grinned.

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, that infuriatingly smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes sparkled with something Jisung could only describe as unearned confidence.

“I already took care of it.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “Took care of what, Romeo?”

Hyunjin simply crossed his arms and nodded to himself like a villain finishing a chess game he started in his own head.

“Clarity” Jisung said. “Give it. Now.”

In the JYP Building, another sub-branch office buzzed with quiet chaos. HR. Finance. And there she was — the shaman’s daughter. Mid-twenties, blunt-cut bangs, and permanently unimpressed with the universe.

She worked in HR, or maybe Legal — Hyunjin hadn’t actually checked. All he knew was that she existed.

He’d found his window.

Hyunjin stood outside a quiet break room with the phone against his ear, pacing in dramatic arcs like he was rehearsing for a movie.

He called.

Ring. Ring.

Click. “Hello?” came the aged voice on the other end. The very Shaman. His enemy. His nemesis since age seven.

Hyunjin’s voice dropped into sugar-laced sarcasm.

“Hello, Master Jido. This is Hwang Hyunjin. Your favorite client's son.”

“Oh, it’s Hyunjin! What is it, son?”

“I just had a little doubt,” Hyunjin said, sweetly.

“A doubt?” the man chuckled. “Ask away, child.”

Hyunjin’s voice changed. From fake-sweet to quiet-deadly. “If I kidnap your daughter…”

“…Eh?”

“…And elope with her…”

“WHAT?”

“…Then marry her…”

“Are you—”

“…And two months later… dump her, throw her out of the house, emotionally ruin her, and disappear from the family registry…”

The silence on the line grew nuclear.

“…Then, Shaman-nim,” Hyunjin asked, voice as cold as a weather app warning, “Whose horoscope do the bad omens belong to? Mine, your daughters, or yours?”

“What do you want.”

Jisung stared, blinking. “You blackmailed a seventy-year-old spiritual consultant.”

“Gently intimidated,” Hyunjin corrected.

“With the emotional threat of fake marriage and divorce.”

“Wasn’t fake in the moment” Hyunjin said, sipping from the straw like a man who just solved world peace. “I committed to the bit.”

Jisung just stared.

“I didn’t actually do anything! I just... helped him consider some new astrological angles” Hyunjin said.

“Now, apparently the stars have changed or something. A fresh wind of fortune has entered my celestial corridor.”

“I can’t believe you dragged a whole girl into this—”

“She doesn’t even know. It’s fine. Her Insta bio says ‘Engaged to coffee’ anyway.”

“…What does that even mean—”

Hyunjin suddenly stood up and raised his arms like he’d won a national award. “San Francisco! It’s rainin' like hell, OH MAH GAWD!!!”

The cafe went quiet. Everyone turned. A kid started crying. The waiter dropped a glass.

Jisung sank into his chair, hiding his face and muttering, “It's Florida.”

You were thirteen when you landed in Korea, still jetlagged, still unsure how far Seoul was from anything familiar — your school, your grandma, the small room in Florida that always smelled like oranges.

Your dad had one rule: “No Korean boys.”

You blinked. He leaned in like he was whispering ancient wisdom.

“They’re into shady stuff. Like... gambling and prostitution.” You nodded. Not because you believed it — but because the jetlag had won, and your brain had clocked out somewhere over the Pacific.

You started school in March, jetlagged and freezing, with only two phrases in Korean: "Hello" and "I don't understand."

The only other foreign transferee was a boy named Felix, who looked like he’d been born with bubble tea in his hand. Korean-Australian, bleach-blond, and soft-spoken, he spoke Korean in scattered syllables and English with an accent that made teachers squint and classmates swoon.

You and Felix became a team by necessity. You copied each other’s homework, traded cafeteria pickles for extra milk, and sat side by side during any group project, acting as one two-headed confused foreigner.

Then there was Hyunjin.

The Korean boy who looked like he walked off a shampoo ad — with his floppy fringe and moody aura, and that stupid girls’ bicycle he parked next to yours every morning.

He tried to speak to you.

Often.

“Hi. Me am… Hyunjin… boy… I am goose pinples. No.—wait—I mean, I have the goose pinples.”

You and Felix burst into laughter so loud, the homeroom teacher glared.

Hyunjin, unbothered, nodded proudly. "Funny. You laugh. you like me."

“No,” Felix wheezed. “Because you said you are goose pimples.”

“Goose pinples happen when heart is... too loud!” Hyunjin declared, without understanding a thing.

“My English is very… constipation.” “I feel you, I have many… hormone today.” “This snack is… how do you say? Explode in mouth? Like… popsex?”

“Today is Constipation Day in Korea!” and what not.

You and Felix lost it every single time.

You never corrected him. Because he always looked so damn confident. Like the world should revolve around his pronunciation.

Felix would record some of it. You’d play it back in the dorm at night, wheezing into your pillows, whispering:

“Popsex. He really said popsex.”

But there was something endearing about him. Or maybe something tragic. You couldn’t tell.

The sun was setting. You were taking a photo of the schoolyard. He walked up, fiddling with something behind his back.

He didn’t say anything. Just dropped a card on the bench and left.

The cover was of an island. Amelia Island. Inside, written in broken English:

“You make my heart like dance. Happy marry Christmas.”

You didn’t smile.

Because it was sweet. And embarrassing. And probably from him.

The next day, you asked him, straight-faced:

You: “Did you leave this?”

Hyunjin: “What? Me? This??” (Laughs too hard. Slaps his knee.) “This very funny! Haha. Island card! Very joke.”

you told him you liked it very much. that for once you felt like someone gave you something worth keeping. His eyes widened and he was about to say something when you walked away, a bit hurt.

“No dating Korean boys” Your dad said again, while reheating soup and watching Korean dramas like a hypocrite. “Keep that in mind.”

You’d just nodded.

He didn’t know about Hyunjin. Not really. He was your friend. Mostly. Kind of. Not technically anything that violated international treaties or fatherly warnings.

Even when he gave you that Amelia Island card — anonymous but obvious — you said nothing. He denied it. Called it lame.

So you shrugged, hurt a little, and moved on.

Eventually, your parents moved again. Another town. Same country, but a new school, new skyline, new loneliness.

You never saw Hyunjin after that.

Your sister was the golden one.

She smiled brighter. Spoke softer. Her eyes watered during shampoo commercials and she once cried when a stray cat let her hold it for a minute.

So when she came to you — eyes big and trembling — and said

“Can you tell them? Please? I don’t think I can. He’s Korean. You know how Dad’ll be.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want her to be happy. But because the moment she asked, you felt it — that old familiar weight settling on your shoulders again. The one you carried through your teens, through immigration, through every rule your father ever carved into stone.

You sat on the edge of the living room couch, your fingers digging crescents into your thighs, while your father’s silence sharpened the air like a blade.

Your mother’s voice cut in, pleading — but soft, rehearsed, like she already knew the end.

“She’s never asked for anything her whole life. Let her marry him, please. We have Y/N, don’t we? When have you ever said no to her? She’ll marry whomever you ask her to, it's the least she can do.”

You blinked. Felt the ground vanish a little under your feet.

But you didn’t say anything.

You smiled. A small one. A polite one.

You didn’t know then that smile would cost you something.

The wedding was small. Rushed. A white dress borrowed. A groom with tired eyes and a job in tech. Your sister looked happy, though. For a while. With you as the photographer.

Eight months later, you were at the hospital. Premature baby.

“She’s in labor. Come if you can.”

You went. You held her hand when her husband was at work. You remember the way she looked at you — sweaty, scared, but still somehow calm, like you were the only solid thing in the room.

Then the baby didn’t cry.

And everything after that blurred into this cold, sterile memory of machines and silence and a doctor’s voice trying to be gentle.

They named him Noah. He was perfect. For ten minutes. Then he was gone.

The funeral was the kind of heartbreak people don’t talk about because there are no right words for something that brief and permanent.

Her husband blamed her for not taking care of herself while pregnant.

“You said you didn’t want kids. You remember? You told me a year ago. That maybe... you’d regret it.”

And your sister just stood there. Frozen. One hand still resting on the tiny urn in her arms.

They never recovered.

You held her until her breathing evened out. Until her voice cracked open.

And you just kept rubbing her back, trying to hold her together with hands that were already so used to holding other people’s pain.

Later, your mom pulled you aside while helping pack up some things for her.

“At least you… you should listen to your father. You don’t want to end up like your sister.”

You didn’t respond because she's right.

Years later, you’re still in Korea. Still taking jobs from strangers who don’t know your language but trust your eye. You have clients. You have your quiet little life.

But something in you had started to twitch.

A thread pulling tight.

It stirred when you saw your sister's hands shake over her tea.

It stirred loudest when you saw Hyunjin again — in that photo. The boy who once said “goose pinples” with his whole chest. Who looked at you like you were a language he wanted to learn.

It started with a hand graze.

James had bumped into you at a small book café in the quieter part of the city, apologizing so earnestly for a moment you barely noticed. “Sorry—wasn’t watching,” he said, British lilt and coffee-stained fingers holding onto a stack of art books. You glanced up briefly from your own pile of screenwriting guides, nodding once, distracted.

He returned a few minutes later, leaned against your table, and offered you a smile that held no arrogance, no performance. “You like writing, I guess?” he asked. “Or maybe just collecting intimidating books?”

You smirked at that. He sat. He talked. He stayed.

And you didn’t expect that you’d like him so much.

He was sweet. Not in the manufactured way you’d grown used to—he didn’t send flowers, didn’t quote poems he didn’t understand. But he remembered the books you liked, bought a matching notebook when you mentioned needing one, and waited outside the film school for two hours on rainy days with an umbrella and half a chocolate bar.

He met your sister. Made her laugh, even. Played card games with her in the cramped corners of the house when your father wasn’t around.

But when you finally told him—quietly, anxiously—that you wanted him to meet your father, he hesitated.

“Give me a month,” he said, voice low. “Just one month. I want to have a job by then. I want to come to him with something in hand. I know what your dad is like.”

You frowned. Not because he was wrong—but because that month already sounded like an escape route.

Still, you nodded.

You always wanted to believe the best of people.

One month turned into two. Then four.

He kept trying, he said. But you were the only one holding onto his promises anymore.

2 years later.

Your father came into your room. He had a printed photograph in his hand. A boy in a navy blue shirt, smiling politely.

“His name is Joseph,” your father said. “Son of Thomas. Studied in Delhi. MBA. Good job, salary, family, and most importantly, nice and respectful.”

You stared at the picture, you knew Joseph from church. But it wasn’t even Joseph you were reacting to—it was the sudden realization of what this meant.

He thought you were ready for marriage.

“dad” you said slowly. “I… I want to show you something.”

You opened your phone. Scrolled to the gallery. Your thumb hovered for just a second before you turned the screen toward him.

It was an image of a printed brochure for a photography course abroad.

“I want to apply for this,” you said. “I think it’ll help with my work.”

There was a long pause. He didn’t react for a full minute. Just stared.

Then, finally, he placed the photograph of Joseph on the table and sat back.

“You know I’ve never denied you anything,” he said quietly. Not angry.

“Don’t take it for granted.”

“I’m not,” you said. “I promise I’m not. I just… I really think this will help. With the way the industry’s changing, and—”

He raised a hand, stopping your excuses mid-way. You felt like you were shrinking.

He nodded once, a little stiff. Then, after a moment, rested his callused hand on your head the way he always did when you were little. Gentle, warm, still.

“Go” he said. “Make sure you do it properly.”

You smiled.

But your eyes had guilt.

Packing didn’t take long.

Neither did the goodbyes.

You kept your room clean. Hugged your sister a little tighter. Stared too long at your walls and the half-torn posters you’d never get to finish decorating.

Then came the early morning of departure.

The airport lights felt too white. Too quiet. Your sister walked next to you, carrying your hand luggage while you tugged along the suitcase. You were wearing a hoodie.

“Is that him?” your sister asked softly, referring to the guy who sat on the waiting lounge, very far away, the matching hoodie you wore was a hint.

You told her everything last night.

You nod and stop.

Right outside the terminal glass doors, you turned toward her. And your face crumpled.

“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly, voice cracking, your breath stuttering. “I didn’t mean this, I didn’t—”

You swallowed. Clenched your teeth. Covered your mouth with your hand for a second, trying not to let it shake.

Your sister didn’t say anything. She just looked at you the way she always did—waiting, quiet, gentle.

“Please” you whispered, “don’t tell them.”

And that was all.

You picked up your bag again.

And walked through the doors.

You made it through security in silence, your hoodie pulled low over your eyes, your steps heavy. The air inside the airport felt sterile—metal chairs, quiet voices, the hum of announcements you weren’t really listening to. You held onto your passport like a lifeline.

And then you saw it.

A lone suitcase just a few feet ahead, with a grayish denim jacket draped lazily over it. The chair beside it was empty.

You paused. Tilted your head slightly. Maybe the guy had gone to the washroom. You didn’t care.

You didn’t even want to care.

You sat down with a gap of one chair in between, resting your small handbag on top of your own suitcase. The weight of the flight, the course, your family, James, and everything you didn’t say sat on your chest like bricks.

A headache was already blooming behind your eyes.

You stood again, rubbing your forehead, and made your way to the tiny pharmacy stall just across from the waiting area. Bought a strip of pills, a small water bottle, and pressed your palm to your temple as you walked back.

And then you saw him.

Long legs stretched out.

Foot tapping on his suitcase and kicking it forward like a bored child playing air hockey with himself.

And then pulling it back with his heel, only to do it again.

You stared at him for a solid ten seconds.

He didn’t even notice you—he was too busy whistling a terrible, off-key rendition of some unknown classical tune. Probably something he made up.

Your brows twitched.

You moved to sit down anyway, deciding to just pretend he didn’t exist.

But the moment your hand touched your suitcase handle, he looked up.

And his face lit up like he wasn’t twenty-four years old but actually five.

A slow, mischievous grin crept onto his face. He tilted his head, blinked dramatically, then—because he had no self-preservation instinct—shifted one chair closer, leaned into your face from the side.

He pointed a finger and poked your shoulder. With far too much confidence.

“Ma’am,” he said, in the most suspiciously fake tone you’d ever heard, “have we met before? Or… are you just the reason the stars look dim tonight?”

You blinked.

Squinted.

And then smacked his shoulder with a loud thwap.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” you snapped. “Stop overacting! What the hell?! I’ve been searching the entire airport like a lunatic—!”

“I told you I was inside—!”

“You were not! You left your suitcase here like you live here. Is this a goddamn palace?! Were you taking a heritage walk or what?!”

“It’s my first time in this terminal!” he defended, eyes wide and innocent, “I got excited, okay?! It’s like a mall but worse!”

You glared. “You’re unbelievable.”

He leaned in closer, voice full of pride. “But also really good-looking.”

You deadpan-stared at him. “I’m this close to checking in my morals and leaving you in the cargo.”

“Noted.” He nodded solemnly, then grinned again. “Oh, by the way—Florida’s gonna be awesome, baby, Imagine all the white sand and palm trees and—ow, ow—okay, sorry, stop hitting me—!”

You had shoved him lightly on the chest, but he reacted like he was dying.

“Oh my God,” you groaned. “Grow a spine.”

“Oh my God,” he mimicked in a high voice, holding his chest. “Grow a spine—You hit me! I might never emotionally recover from this moment.”

You turned away, cheeks puffed in exasperation.

He leaned in again, wrapped an arm around your shoulder without asking, and pulled you in close like a clingy koala. You squirmed, tried to push him off, but he was already launching into another act.

“Milady,” he said in a terrible British accent, “I humbly beg your forgiveness. I was so very bewitched by the splendid architecture of this steel-and-concrete airport that I momentarily forgot I had a beautiful lover waiting for me.”

“‘Beautiful lover’?” you raised a brow.

He straightened, chest out like a knight. “I would doth die a thousand deaths to bask in thy gaze.”

“…Are you high?”

“I took two mints. Close enough.”

You started laughing despite yourself.

You hated that he always knew how to twist your mood—how to flip the script, to go from heavy and aching to ridiculous and warm. Like he could sense exactly when you were on the edge.

And even though you were still mad… you rested your head on his shoulder for a second before standing up.

“Come on,” you muttered, grabbing your boarding pass. “Let’s go. Before you get distracted by another vending machine and try to marry it.”

Hyunjin gasped, following you with exaggerated shock. “That was one time! And it said limited-edition banana milk—!”

You walked ahead, shaking your head.

And behind you, suitcase rolling, Hyunjin trailed after you with that same stupid smile—already reaching out to hold your hand like it was muscle memory.

This is a notice from the heavens: what in the ever-loving hell just happened ?

Flashback.

Hyunjin barely sat down at his desk when the dreaded voice pierced the air.

“Hwang Hyunjin. Office. Now.”

His eyes lifted like a man being summoned to court. Minho never calls. Minho appears like a spirit of mild annoyance and sarcastic judgment. But this? This was serious.

He stood, heart hammering, already mentally cycling through everything he might’ve done wrong—was it the extra-long lunch break last Tuesday? The incident with the bubble tea explosion in the studio? That one time he accidentally hit ‘Reply All’ and sent a crying cat meme to the entire office?

No time to wonder. He walked in.

Minho sat at his desk, arms crossed, face unreadable. Very Minho. Behind him, the screen glowed with a blank spreadsheet—deadly in its own way.

“We’re changing the face of the AWs campaign,” Minho said, without even looking up.

Hyunjin blinked. “...Okay?”

Minho leaned back. “We can’t afford celebrity models. The budget is ass. So. New idea—we pick someone from the team.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “Oh… That’s actually kinda genius. Like… relatable marketing. ‘We are you’ type vibe.” He nodded, warming up. “If we do a shoot with banners and everything, it’ll look organic. Sales will go up.”

“Exactly,” Minho said, drumming his fingers. “So now comes the real question…”

He stared straight into Hyunjin’s soul.

“Who should be the model?”

And in that moment… Hyunjin knew he was absolutely screwed.

Minho never asks for opinions. Which meant—he already had someone in mind. And he was called here, which meant—it was him.

An intrusive image assaulted his brain: A massive banner over a subway station. Hyunjin. Smiling. Thumbs up. Next to a toilet seat.

“AWs: Flushing Problems Away.”

He swallowed thickly.

“Jisung,” he blurted. “Han Jisung’s got that—like, you know—model energy. Face like a K-drama second lead, right? Like the nice one that dies?”

“Hyunjin,” Minho said flatly. “You’ll do it.”

“No—no no no,” Hyunjin stammered, waving his hands. “Minho-hyung, listen—my family’s got… issues. Yes. Terrible issues. There’s a… a spiritual curse, actually. We can’t be on printed material. It invites demons. My mom said—”

Minho didn’t even blink.

He turned to his monitor.

“Do it or resign.”

There it was. Classic Minho. Dropping ultimatums like it was Monday morning Sudoku.

Hyunjin stood frozen. He sighed. Long. Dramatic. Almost award-worthy.

He turned to the door. Put a hand on the handle. Then paused.

“Give me one hour,” he said, turning back.

Minho didn’t glance up. “Take it.”

“Your time, sir,” Hyunjin added with unnecessary formality, voice full of noble defeat.

Minho finally looked at him, eyes squinting with the exhausted patience of a man being begged to let a golden retriever run a government agency.

“What now?”

The lighting is warm, jazzy music hums faintly, and there's a rustic charm to the place. The only thing out of place is the sheer tension radiating from one side of the booth.

Minho sits like a man about to order his final meal before heading into a warzone.

Hyunjin sits like a man who is the warzone.

The waiter approaches with a notepad.

Minho: “Dakgalbi. Extra spicy. Add cheese. Double portion.” Hyunjin: “...A glass of hot water. Please.”

The waiter blinks. Looks at Hyunjin. Then at Minho. Then back at Hyunjin, silently judging his life choices.

“Hot… water?” “Yes. Plain. Hot.” “Lemon?” “No. I’m not here to feel joy.”

The waiter backs away slowly.

Minho sighs. “Are you starting or should I just punch myself in the head and save time?”

Hyunjin takes a dainty sip of his steaming hot water, wincing like it burned his soul. Then places the cup down like he’s just returned from a war front.

“Sir. I asked you here tonight because I needed to explain why I absolutely cannot be the face of this campaign.”

Minho: “Uh huh.”

“There’s a girl. She never judged me. Not when I was in my girls cycle.”

Minho freezes mid-napkin-unfold, he remembers something.

“We were 13—”

Minho cuts in, deadpan:

“Yeah. I know. You gave her a card for Christmas and it had an island on it and blah blah blah.”

Hyunjin freezes. “Wait… how do you know that?”

Minho sips his water now, mocking.

“You also asked for one hour during your job interview and told me the same sob story.”

Hyunjin seals his lips, humbled into silence. For a moment.

Then:

“There’s… more, sir. But I’ll have to go with the flow—”

Minho cuts in again, already halfway through his meal.

“Come to the fucking point. I’ll only be here till this plate’s empty.”

Hyunjin mutters under his breath:

“Didn’t know you were gonna inhale the damn dish…”

Minho: “What?”

Hyunjin (straightening): “Nothing. So—what happened was…”

He breathes in deep. Eyes down.

Minho looks pained.

“one night… I opened Instagram. And there she was. With another guy. Matching hoodies. Holding hands. At the zoo. I saw the giraffes in the background, hyung. Our giraffes.”

“You had giraffes?”

“We once watched a giraffe documentary together in the office pantry. That was OUR moment.”

Minho slows down. Just a little.

“And she was dating a guy who was a small time struggling photographer, looking for another job, and hence, I quit getting photographed out of spite”

Minho paused eating. “What”

“I archived my entire gallery. Stopped taking selfies. I haven’t touched my camera in half a year. The guy at Canon messaged me to check if I died.”

Minho tosses his chopsticks down.

“Hyunjin. During your interview, you also told me you quit riding bikes because your dad bought you a pink one. Are you the son of JYP that we should excuse your behavior like it’s performance art?!”

Hyunjin looks mildly insulted. “It had a bell shaped like a bunny. It traumatized me.”

“Okay. Shut up. You’re coming tomorrow at 7 AM sharp. You’re shooting a campaign for room spray. If you cry, I’ll make you do deodorant and drain cleaner next.”

“Sir—my aura is not compatible with room spray.”

“Neither is your soul compatible with employment, apparently.”

Hyunjin looks like a dying goldfish.

“But hyung—sir—I’m emotionally unavailable. I won’t be able to concentrate!”

“It’s not like you ever achieved anything while fully concentrated anyway.”

He stands. Leaves.

Hyunjin sits there, stunned, insulted, and still clutching his hot water like a widow.

The waiter brings the bill.

Hyunjin also starts to get up, following Minho… when—

“Hyunjin,” Minho calls without turning.

“Pay the bill.”

He disappears around the corner.

Hyunjin opens the bill and his soul leaves his body.

“Of course. I love being financially exploited right after emotional trauma.”

The lights are dim. Not in an artistic, mood-lit way. In a “someone forgot to turn on the switches” way. The studio smells faintly of coffee, industrial cleaning spray, and vague regret.

Hyunjin stands in the middle of it.

Half-dressed in an orange jumpsuit with “AROMA WHISPER™” stitched in cursive over the chest. Someone handed it to him like it was a privilege. Like he wasn’t just betrayed by the concept of personal dignity.

He’s brushing something off his shoulder. A bit of lint. A speck of despair. Maybe both.

The shirt underneath doesn’t sit right. Too stiff. The kind of material that squeaks when you move. Corporate cosplay.

His hair’s been half-slicked back, the way Minho said it would “photograph clean.” His soul, however, remains smeared across the floor.

He adjusts his collar. Winces.

The fabric itchy. The zipper mocking him. Every fiber of the jumpsuit screams,

“You used to be an artist. Now you are a mascot for air particles.”

Hyunjin mutters under his breath, eyes down.

“Room spray… Room slay. Whatever makes it hurt less.”

And then—

“...Hyunjin?”

A voice.

A very specific voice.

He freezes.

Not like, subtle stiffening. No. He freezes like a man whose worst emotional enemy just pulled the fire alarm inside his chest.

His heart flinches so hard, he forgets how to breathe for a moment.

Slowly, like in a drama that’s low on budget but high on intensity, he lifts his head.

And there she is.

HER. The girl. The she of all his tragic Instagram stalking. The one who never judged him during his Girl Cycle™. The one he once sent a pressed hydrangea and poetry-level card to.

She’s standing there—slightly confused, holding a clipboard, wearing the company vest.

She’s dressed like a part-timer in production, but to him, she looks like the goddess of Febreze herself descended from Olympus to ask why he stopped posting mirror selfies.

And then—

CLICK.

Suddenly, someone hits the main camera lights.

They beam on like interrogation spotlights. White. Blinding. Glorious.

Hyunjin flinches as it hits him in the face—full beam. But he doesn’t close his eyes.

Because hers are on him. Just her eyes. On just him.

And even though he’s dressed like a traffic cone—

Even though his ego is currently six feet under a pile of product sponsorship—

Even though his knees feel like a newborn deer’s and he knows he’s about to be told to hold a fake daisy-scented bottle next to a toilet prop—

All he can think is:

“Damn. I’m in love again.”

And this time, worse than before.

A few moments after the blinding lights switched on and his soul left his body temporarily, Hyunjin starts piecing things together.

She’s not just standing around. She’s not observing. She’s holding a camera.

No. No. No, no, no—

“Y/N,” Minho’s voice cuts through the silence like a very smug dagger, “Let’s start the shoot. Just get a couple of green mat shots for the catalogue, we’ll fix the color grading later.”

Green mat.

Green mat.

Green mat.

Hyunjin’s eyes twitch toward the green rectangle of synthetic shame rolled out like a yoga mat meant for humiliation. A little fake potted plant sits next to it. He’s told to hold the "Rain Breeze Blossom" spray bottle and “smile with your eyes.”

He doesn't even know what that means.

She’s behind the camera. Adjusting the lens.

Professional. Focused. The way she bites the inside of her cheek while testing the lighting makes him want to throw himself out of a very medium-height window.

He’s smiling in the photos.

But only his teeth are participating.

The rest of him is trying not to dissolve into a puddle on the floor and flow straight into the studio’s drainage system.

Click. Click. Click.

He poses. She shoots. They don’t say a word.

Until— It’s over.

Minho walks up, grabs the camera from her hands casually, scrolls through the display.

He stops at a photo of Hyunjin holding the room spray like it’s the antidote to his broken heart.

“Good job,” Minho mutters.

Hyunjin exhales.

“Thanks,” he says quickly, too quickly, heart blooming just a little—until Minho looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“Not to you,” Minho says, not even hiding his disgust. “To her.”

Hyunjin wilts.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling lightly, taking the camera back.

It’s worse than rejection. It’s non-existence.

You’re not sure how you ended up here.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the only room still lit up in the whole building—like it remembered you both still had things to say.

Or maybe it’s the way he looked after the photoshoot.

Like he was trying not to look at you. Like looking might hurt. Like not looking already was.

You sit across from him, the table between you unnaturally clean, like the both of you are too polite to leave even a teaspoon of mess anymore.

He’s wearing a plain shirt now. Something soft and pale and very him. His curls are messier. Looser. The way you remember them from last year’s winter, when he used to post black-and-white mirror selfies captioned with song lyrics and emotionally concerning emojis.

You wrap your fingers around your tea mug. It’s hot, but the warmth doesn’t quite reach your chest yet.

“You’re really a photographer now,” he says, half-laughing, like it snuck up on him.

You shrug.

“You’re really a model now,” you say back, with a smile that almost counts as teasing.

He groans dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.

“Don’t say that. That’s the worst moment of my professional life. I’ve peaked in a citrus jumpsuit.”

You laugh a little.

Not because it’s particularly funny, but because he’s always been good at saying things just wrong enough to be endearing.

There’s a pause. The kind you used to fill with banter, or stolen fries, or your fingers brushing his across a couch cushion when no one was looking.

Now it just hums.

“So…” he starts, drumming his fingers lightly against the table, “You’ve been good?”

You nod. Slowly.

But he notices. You don’t say yes.

And he doesn’t press.

Because he knows you.

The same way you know his silence is always louder after 10 PM. The way he brushes the back of his neck when he’s anxious. The way he always shifts his gaze to the corner of the room when he’s afraid of hearing something he wants.

He’s doing it now.

Looking away.

Like he’s scared you’ll say something real.

“So… uh. You and that guy from Instagram. You broke up?”

You raise a brow slowly, suspiciously.

“What, are you stalking me now?”

“No—I mean, no! I just—it was on your story. Publicly. With, like, the couple hashtags and everything,” he mumbles, going red. “I just saw it.”

“Stalker,” you whisper behind the rim of your mug, lips twitching.

He groans.

“I’m not—! Ugh. Whatever.”

You tilt your head, eyes sharpening just slightly.

“Yeah. We broke up.”

“Oh,” he says, a little too quickly. “Good—I mean—uh. Not good. I meant… interesting.”

Your lips quirk.

“He cheated on me.”

That wipes the color from his face in less than a second.

He stiffens.

Hands clenched into weak little fists on the table. Eyes darkening like storm clouds, like he was just given permission to go commit arson.

“Hyunjin,” you say lightly, “You look like you’re gonna punch someone.”

“No,” he says, deadly serious, “Just… imagining kicking him into a trash can and sealing the lid shut.”

“Tempting.”

“If you give me his workplace location, I swear I can pull up with a bat and an apology card.”

You laugh again—softly. Only a little.

But his eyes flick up instantly.

And then, suddenly—he goes dramatic.

He straightens, hands gesturing wildly now, dead serious like he’s about to drop the philosophy of the decade.

“So—when you go to a salon, right? And you get a new haircut, it feels… weird at first. Like, who is this?You stare at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you just ruined your entire look. Right?”

You nod slowly, amused.

“But then,” he continues, “the next day, you see yourself again and go, hey. Wait. It’s not that bad.”

His eyes widen for emphasis.

“And then, one week later, you look in the mirror like—damn. I'm kinda cute. Actually, wait. This is the best haircut ever.”

He places both hands on the table like he’s just proven the theory of relativity.

“That. That’s what your breakup is.”

You stare.

He waits.

You narrow your eyes, biting your lip to stop yourself from cracking a smile.

He scratches the back of his neck, sheepishly grinning now.

“I mean… I did go to the salon yesterday, sooo…”

You blink again.

And then— You snort.

And then you actually laugh.

Hyunjin freezes. Mouth parting slightly.

“Wait. Did you just laugh?”

He gasps dramatically, standing halfway up from his seat like he’s discovered light.

“Manager—turn off the lights! We’ve got enough sunshine here! Go green, baby, let’s save the planet!”

You roll your eyes, still laughing.

“Sit down, idiot.”

“Hey, hey, turn that side and smile a little. We could take a photo and put it in the lobby. You just solved the building’s electricity crisis with your solar power.”

You shake your head, trying not to smile too much. But it’s too late.

He sees it.

And for a second, he just stares.

Like that one smile of yours could pull him back into orbit.

The room is packed.

Slides are changing slowly on the projector as Minho paces at the front, pointer in hand, talking about fragrance variants of the new room spray product like it’s a matter of national security.

Hyunjin’s eyes, however, are glued to his phone.

Not the screen on the wall. Not the notes in front of him.

Your text thread. Your name. Sitting there in his messages like a tiny piece of serotonin.

He types under the desk with the subtlety of a kid cheating on a test.

Hyunjin:

where are you you weren’t at the shoot you didn’t reply this morning are you okay is minho making you quit blink twice if you need rescuing

Three dots pop up.

Then:

You:

Going to a friend’s wedding! Wanna come?

His thumb freezes.

Then moves so fast he almost stabs the touchscreen.

Hyunjin:

I’M COMING I’M COMING OMG

Then GASP.

An actual, audible gasp in the dead quiet room.

Minho pauses his monologue mid-sentence. Everyone looks up like they just heard a fire alarm.

Hyunjin is on his feet, clutching his phone like he’s just received life-altering news.

“No… no, no, no—this can’t—this can’t be happening…”

Minho narrows his eyes. “Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin staggers dramatically toward the door, hand to his mouth like he’s going to faint.

“I… I have to go. I—It’s—It’s personal. Very personal. Family. Emergency. Sad things. Crying things.”

He wipes an invisible tear from his cheek and sniffles audibly.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Minho stares at him, completely unmoved.

“You’re not even crying.”

Hyunjin forces a high-pitched sob.

“NOW I AM.”

Minho doesn’t blink. Just folds his arms, sighs, deadpans.

“Go.”

Hyunjin immediately drops the act, grins.

“Thanks, boss!! Love you!”

He darts out the door in a blur of limbs, nearly knocking over the intern carrying sample bottles.

Minho sighs deeply, clicking the pointer with the weariness of a man who has seen too much.

“Okay. Back to lavender mist and cinnamon-sugar sorrow. Slide twelve, please.”

The sun’s dipping low, painting gold on the windshield. The soft hum of the AC fills the silence.

He’s in the passenger seat, hoodie slightly wrinkled, hair a little messy from air playing with it five minutes ago. His bag’s in his lap, untouched.

Your cars parked right outside his house, engine off, not saying a word.

Neither of you are.

Until suddenly you reach across the console and hold his hand.

Hyunjin blinks.

Looks down at your fingers.

Then up at you.

You’re serious.

Your expression doesn’t wobble even slightly as you ask—

“Will you marry me?”

He freezes like someone just told him he won the lottery and the prize is you.

“Wait—wait. Hold on. What.”

You nod. Still serious. Still holding his hand.

“You. Me. Marriage. What do you think?”

He stares. Then swallows.

Then stares some more.

And finally, very softly:

“You tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.”

He’s lying in bed. Lights off. Blanket up to his chest like he’s in a horror movie.

Only the horror is… His father.

Hyunjin sighs dramatically into the void.

“Appa’s going to kill me.”

His eyes widen.

“No—worse. He’ll disown me. Then resurrect me just to kill me again.”

He turns to his side. Opens his phone. Stares at your name in the messages. Doesn't dare text. You’re probably thinking about the same thing.

“A foreigner. An artist. A photographer. With opinions. Style. Confidence. Love. And—God forbid—humour.”

“I’m dating everything my father prayed against during family offerings.”

He throws the blanket over his face.

You're lying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling fan.

It’s been spinning for hours. It has no answers. Neither do you.

“How do I explain this? Mom’s going to be confused. Dad’s going to have a nosebleed.”

You pull the blanket over your face. Scream into it.

“I’m marrying a Korean guy. A model. An AD model.”

You sit up.

They’re lying in their beds, phones still in hand, both sighing at the ceiling.

Then simultaneously:

“Maybe we should elope.”

Beat.

“But we can’t. My mom would find me in whatever continent I hide in.”

“So would my dad. With a shaman.”

You’re already there when Hyunjin shows up.

You're pacing.

Hands shaking.

Mind spinning.

He sees you from across the street—crosses quickly, no goofy wave today.

You're chewing your lip. Hard.

"Hey," he says gently. "Let’s sit inside?"

You shake your head. Eyes sharp, voice sharp-er.

“Why did you call me here?”

“plan” he says, raising a finger. “I have a plan.”

You squint.

He opens the door. You walk in with him—reluctantly.

Small booth. Two cups between you—one coffee, one untouched hot water.

You're silent. Hyunjin keeps fidgeting with the sugar packets.

Then:

“Let’s elope.”

You stare at him.

Like stare stare.

As if he just said “let’s skydive into a pit of sharks.”

“Are you actually serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Hyunjin—my parents—”

You slam your palm on the table, rattling the spoons.

“Do you know how many hopes they have for me?! Do you know what kind of deal it was for them to send me here? Do you know what my sister’s going through? Do you think I’m just going to throw everything away and—elope?! With a guy who models room spray?!”

Hyunjin’s mouth opens. Then shuts. He nods slowly.

“Cool, cool, cool. I see where the disrespect is.”

“What?”

“No, no, continue. Ruin my entire bloodline.”

“Oh my god—”

“As if my father’s ever looked at me and thought: wow, my son’s going to make wise, marriageable decisions. No! He once told me I should have been born a turnip. At least turnips don’t take photos in orange jumpsuits.”

You blink.

“Turnip?”

“YES, TURNIP. That’s what I’m dealing with. So don’t come at me like you’re the only one with cultural pressure, alright?”

You stand up suddenly, chair scraping loudly.

“I won’t run away like a coward. I won’t mess up everything my parents worked for!”

You begin walking away—heels clicking, exit in sight.

And then—

Hyunjin stands too.

Loud.

Passionate.

Chaotic.

“THAT’S WHY GANDHI SAID!”

Everyone turns. You freeze mid-step.

Turn back slowly.

“…What did Gandhi say?”

He blinks.

Raises his finger again like he’s summoning wisdom from the heavens.

“He said: ‘If you ask me everything—what the fuck will you do, you shithead!’”

Pin-drop silence.

A waiter spills a fork in the corner. A kid starts crying.

You stare at him.

Hyunjin’s chest is rising. He looks like a revolutionary who forgot the script.

You blink. Once. Twice.

“Gandhi said that?”

“Absolutely,” he lies confidently.

Your lips twitch.

You fight it. But it’s coming.

And then—it breaks. You laugh.

Covering your mouth. But laughing.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

“And you’re the dumbass who proposed to me in your car.”

“…Touche”

You sigh, walking back to him, rubbing your temples.

“So what do we do, Gandhi?”

“Let’s go home for now”

It’s dark, except for the soft amber glow from your bedside lamp. The world feels slower at this hour—still, almost forgiving.

You’re curled up in bed beside him. One leg thrown lazily over his, your cheek resting against his chest, where you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart. It’s comforting. So is the weight of his arm around your waist, his fingers tracing thoughtless circles over your back.

But your thoughts won’t stop. They keep chewing at you like cold air under a thin blanket.

You’re stressed. You don’t even have to say it—he can feel it.

“Hey,” he whispers, mouth brushing your forehead. “You’re still thinking about it.”

You don’t answer. Just nestle in closer like maybe silence will erase the pressure sitting on your chest.

He shifts, just enough to tilt your chin up and look at you.

“What’s the rush?” he asks, eyes soft, voice even softer. “We don’t have to get married tomorrow, baby. Chill.”

You blink at him, mouth parting like you might argue—but you can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

Still, you frown. “But what if they hate me? Your dad—my mom—my sister—”

“They probably will,” he replies without missing a beat, grinning. “That’s fine. Let them. They can start hating me and end up loving me. Happens all the time.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but the nerves don’t go away entirely.

He notices. Of course he does.

“Hey,” he murmurs again, voice low and warm like honey. “You and me, we’re good. We’ve got time. No one’s waiting at the altar yet.”

You nod slowly against his chest.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Besides,” he adds with a smug smile you don’t even have to see to know, “your mom’s gonna love me.”

You shove his chest, laughing for real this time.

“You’re so full of it.”

He tightens his grip on you.

“Full of love, actually.”

“Jinnie”

“What? Let me have my poetic moment.”

Your fingers are lazily tangled in Hyunjin’s hair.

The sun’s barely up. Golden light spills through the curtains in sleepy ribbons. Hyunjin’s breathing is deep and even, his face turned into the crook of your neck, lips slightly parted. He’s fast asleep—smiling faintly like his dreams are filled with you and snacks.

You’ve got one arm on him and your phone pressed to your ear with the other.

Your sister’s voice is soft and cheerful on the other end of the line.

“I’m pregnant again.”

You blink.

“Wow”

“Mhm! Found out last week! Everyone’s so happy.”

You glance down at Hyunjin’s messy hair, then back up at the ceiling with a small smile. “Congratulations… that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well… now that I’m knocked up again, he’s pampering me like crazy. Foot rubs, back rubs, breakfast in bed... as if my value exists only by a fetus.”

You snort softly.

“You have to talk about kids with Joseph before marriage, though, just so you don’t end up like me.”

You freeze.

“…who?”

“Joseph.”

“…who the hell is Joseph?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Wait… Dad didn’t tell you?”

Your heart rate spikes.

“Oh no. Oh my god. He’s probably planning to surprise you. Y/N, don’t tell him I told you, okay?! Promise me—promise! I don’t want to be the reason you get overwhelmed.”

“What the fu—”

“BYE! Love you!”

Click.

The call ends. You stare at your phone in horror.

A full three seconds pass before you whip the blanket off like it personally betrayed you.

You shake Hyunjin by the shoulder—gently at first.

“Hyunjin.”

He groans sleepily.

You slap his arm.

“Hyunjin.”

“Mmmphh—five more minutes, sunshine”

You yank the pillow out from under his head.

He shoots up like he’s been drafted into war.

“WHAT?! WHAT?! Are we being robbed? Did I leave the stove on? DID I ACCIDENTALLY LIKE YOUR MOM’S INSTAGRAM PHOTO FROM 2017?!”

You grab his face.

“My dad is trying to arrange my marriage to some guy named Joseph.”

He stares at you. Blank. Blinks once.

“…who the fuck is Joseph?”

“EXACTLY.”

You’re already stumbling out of bed, throwing on whatever sweatshirt you find.

Hyunjin finally wakes up for real. He throws off the blanket.

“Get me my pants. We ride at dawn.”

THE PLAN.

You’re curled up at the foot of your bed, knees pulled to your chest, your arms wrapped tight around them. Hyunjin’s sitting nearby, hands in his lap, eyes locked on you like the whole world’s balance depends on your next word.

You’ve been silent for almost twenty minutes.

He finally speaks.

“You haven’t said anything since you ran out of the kitchen. Talk to me.”

You look up, your voice tight and soft. “We’re talking about lying to our parents, Hyunjin.”

He opens his mouth. Closes it again.

You bury your face into your knees. “I already feel disgusting for knowing Joseph exists and not confronting my dad yet. And now I’m supposed to say I’m pregnant—just so they’ll let me marry you?”

He stays quiet, waiting.

You lift your head, eyes watery.

“My sister went through hell after her first baby died. My whole family’s grief was shaped around that loss. It’s why they’re treating this new baby like a gift from God. And now I’m supposed to use that pain? To manipulate their hearts?”

A tear escapes without permission.

“I’m the worst person alive.”

He moves to the edge of the bed, his knees nearly brushing yours.

“Then I’m worse. Because I’ll lie be saying I’m infertile just so my family treats you like some self-sacrificing angel.”

You laugh through your tears.

He pulls you gently into his arms.

“I’m scared too,” he whispers into your hair. “But if we tell the truth, they’ll try to tear us apart. I’m not sure I’ll survive watching you walk away again.”

You press your cheek to his chest, heart aching at the way his voice shakes.

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

A pause.

Then, very quietly, he says, “We can lie. Just… for now. Until they know us. Until we’re so much a part of their lives that they forget the lies ever mattered.”

You don’t reply for a long time.

He breathes in like he was waiting for your approval to live again.

“I’m in love with you” he says.

He cups your face gently, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs. “So much it’s ruining my organs.”

Your mouth trembles. “I still hate this plan.”

“I know,” he whispers. “So do I.”

“But we’re doing it anyway?”

He nods, forehead resting against yours.

“Till death—or Joseph—do us part.”

You let out a weak laugh, and for the first time that night, it doesn’t feel like your whole world is collapsing. Just… rearranging.

Messily. Painfully.

But with him.

You decide to go to Florida, because lying from a distance is so much less scarier. And Amelia island was there. You always wanted to get married there, you told him once and hence it was decided that you both exchange rings there, just for formality.

“But how the hell do we go to Florida?”

He grinned.

And hence……

To jisung:

“Can I have… one hour?”

Jisung blinked once. “What?”

“One hour. Just one. Please.”

“…why?”

“Just… come. I’ll pay.”

To your dad:

“dad” you said slowly. “I… I want to show you something.”

You opened your phone. Scrolled to the gallery. Your thumb hovered for just a second before you turned the screen toward him.

It was an image of a printed brochure for a photography course abroad.

“I want to apply for this,” you said. “I think it’ll help with my work.”

Part-2, final!

[ladylucksrogue]

Masterlist

Hey, I figured it was about time I sat down and put one of these together, as I have a lot of fics and it can be rather confusing, even for me.

I’ve split them into categories, gen, ship fics and series. I have also linked a few of my cosplay posts.

I am very much ship and let ship.  I realize that not everyone out there ships the same people.  I am too old and too tired to get into shipping wars and discourse.  I have literally about a thousand other things I would rather do than judge someone based on their shipping preferences.  I don’t block or blacklist or go through people’s profiles to see what they ship.  There is no DNI if you ship xyz or if I find out you ship xyz you will be blocked.  I don’t have time for that.  If I don’t like something I see on someone’s feed, I move on with my life.  That said, I’ll give almost anything a read.  I realize that is not everyone’s cup of tea and I respect that. 

I would sincerely appreciate the same courtesy.  If you see something I have written here and it is not your jam, absolutely fine, no hard feelings.  Please don’t be like, oh, I’d love to read this but it has xyz ship in it, eww.  We’re all adults here.  Fandom is supposed to be fun, let’s keep it that way, shall we?

GEN:

Fox:

A Rock and a Hard Place - Fox is just so done

Everything is Fine - written for Corrie Guard Week, prompt Eldritch

Sacrifice - The aftermath of Scipio

Bly:

Frozen - Bly deals with the consequences of his General getting injured at the beginning of the war

Chills - Bly ignores an injury on a mission

Rex:

Rise from the Ashes - Rex coping with loss during the war

Trust Issues- The aftermath of Umbara

Faking a Smile - Post Kadavo

Not Strong Enough - post order 66 - Rex buries his brothers

Black Eye - Rex deals with the realities of war

Cody:

Surrender- Cody is captured by the Seppies

Trembling - How Cody got his scar

Grieving - the fallout of Umbarra

Wolffe:

This Isn’t Going to Work - Post TBB season 3 - Wolffe’s fall from grace in the Empire

Phantom Pain - A recon mission gone wrong

Last Chance - aftermath of Wolffe losing his eye in the Battle of Khorm

Swept Away - an adventure fic after a mission gone wrong

Betrayal - Order 66

The Future is Blurry, The Past is a Trap - Wolffe has left the Empire. He doesn't have a plan. He knows Rex and more of his brothers are out there, but he doesn't have an idea of where to find them or where to start looking.  Will be continued at some point, I do have the whole story mapped out, I just need to write it. This one is super near to my heart.

Other:

Grief - featuring Fives and Rex

Miscommunication - a command batch cadet fic

No Way Out - Dogma’s fate after Umbara

Confrontation - Rex and Wolffe have a candid convo about Wolffe hiding those messages in Rebels

Broken- in the aftermath of Fives’ death, Rex confronts Fox

Cold Shoulder - the fallout from Broken

Balance - a command batch cadet fic - Alpha-17 meets the command batch

Dilemmas - Cody and Fox centric - both as cadets on Kamino and during the war

Fight or Flight - Set just prior to the Battle of Geonosis - featuring Fox and Wolffe and my explanation as to why Wolffe was stationed on Kamino at the beginning of the war

A Long Night - command Batch as cadets and Alpha-17

Ship:

Blyla (Bly x Aayla)

Lost Battle - set during the war

Left Behind - post order 66 - Aayla survives

The Ghost of You - post order 66, Bly’s chip wears off (PLEASE mind the tags here, this one is very dark)

Where The Lines Blur - A oneshot set during the war

On the Run - post order 66

Foxiyo (Fox x Riyo)

All is Fair - a slightly cracky oneshot featuring nerf guns (rated: E)

Bad Dreams- Fox has a nightmare, Riyo is there to comfort him (Rated: E)

Learning the Truth - Fox survives Vader post order 66

Never See You Again - the continuation and reunion after Learning the Truth (rated E)

Emotion -  A drabble that takes place after Never See You Again - Riyo is expecting

A Cry for Help- Fox deals with a fire in the lower levels

Sleepy Kisses - a drabble

Kiss to the back of the hand - a drabble

Tentative kiss - a drabble

The Stars We Can’t See - a Riyo and Fox get together story, multi chapter, incomplete but will be continued shortly

Trust Me - Riyo finds the idea of binders intriguing - (Rated E)

Date Night - set in the Unexpected fix it universe - Fox and Riyo as parents

The Best Defense - Foxiyo Week 2024, Prompt Self Defense, also the prompt sensory deprivation for Clone Kinktober (Rated E)

The Moon Festival - Prompt Cultural Traditions

Making History - Prompt Elections

Falling for You - Prompt Pick-up lines

Barely Holding on - Prompt support

Hunger - Prompt undercover.  Modern AU Alternate Universe - a vampire fic

Kiss to a scar- a drabble

Bittersweet - post order 66 (Rated: E)

Bells - a fun holiday drabble

Rexsoka (Rex x Ahsoka):

(Please note:  Everything I write of them happens either post Season 7 or Ahsoka is aged up.  In none of my stories is she underage)

Home Sweet Home- a cracky post war, happy AU oneshot (Rated: M)

The Reason - set Post order 66 - in the aftermath (Rated: M)

The Truth Will Set You Free - Pre-relationship (Rated: T)

Drained- set during TBB season 3  (Rated: E)

To Light The Path Forward - set during the Rebellion and features their daughter

Kiss out of Spite - A drabble

Kiss while someone watches - a drabble

Kiss while crying - a drabble

Stolen Moments - a oneshot set sometime after TBB season 3

Rough kisses - a drabble

Taste - Rexsoka Rebels Timeline

Codywan (Cody x Obi-Wan)

Lights - modern AU one-shot

Longing - pre relationship, Cody-centric, lots of pining

A Little Too Late - this one isn’t really so much shippy but I’ll put it here - it deals with the aftermath of Obi-Wan’s fake death and Cody sorting his feelings, unrequited love

The Last Time - post order 66, reunion on Tatooine

Accidental Kiss - a drabble

Kiss to a scar pt. 2 - a drabble

Kiss while being carried - a drabble

Wolffe/OC:

Rendezvous - a smutty oneshot at 79s (Rated E)

Kiss to the palm of the hand (Wolffe x Liri) - a drabble

Under the Moon (Wolffe x Liri) weird sithy magic, a werewolf themed fic for Halloween

Good Morning (Wolffe/Liri):

Wolffe/Ventress:

Dance in the Darkness - a smutty oneshot.  Hate sex.  There’s really not much other than that.  I wrote this because no one else had.

Tech/Phee:

Baking Cookies - a fun holiday fix-it on Pabu

Clone x OC Week

Bacara/Sariyah:

A Drink or Two On a war torn Outer Rim planet, Bacara's entire plan is to have a drink or two. He never planned to meet anyone, or that he'd actually end up interested in them.

The Path Beyond. The follow-up Story to A Drink or Two.A couple of months after that story, Sariyah contacts Bacara to let him know something that will change both of their lives forever.

Hardcase/Istra "Izzy"

Good Things

SERIES:

Holiday Drabbles - Many of these are set in my fix-it universe, or Unexpected-verse and feature family oriented feels, how the characters families grow.

Valentine's Kiss Drabbles

Valentine's Smut Drabbles

Unexpected-verse: 

This series centers on Wolffe and my OC Liri  There are other couples that make appearances as well as it is at times very ensemble.  This is very much a canon divergent fix-it series.

Official Timeline

Info about Liri

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

Unexpected:

Fanart and character design of Liri can be found here and is done by the fabulous @anstarwar

Wolffe never expected to fall for anyone. It just wasn't something he'd do. Until it happened.

How does he deal with it? Not well. Meanwhile, everyone around him is trying to figure out what exactly is going on with him.  First of the series and introduces my OC Liri Arkay.

Next in the series, in order:

A Fine Line The prequel to Unexpected, this is how it all began, how Liri and Wolffe met in all the vivid steamy detail.

Spontaneous (Rex/Ahsoka, Foxiyo) Includes fabulous fanart by @nottonyharrison

Stunning

Revelation

Out of the Blue (Wolffe/Liri, Rex/Ahsoka)

Shockwaves

Stroke of Midnight (A Wolffe/Liri New Years oneshot)

Just A Chance Bly and Aayla centric

Darkness. After another blackout in the lower levels, Riyo insists on taking Fox to get a check-up. What they find in Fox's head will change everyone's lives forever.

Strategic Planning Set in the Unexpected fix it universe, post war. Wolffe has gotten the anti-aging treatment and is not having a good time dealing with it. As Liri cares for him, she decides to drop a conversation on him about the future.

Changes. Written for the prompt hurt comfort for my 200 follower challenge on Tumblr. Liri is gets her period and is having a miserable day. Wolffe is a bit out of his element but does his best to help.

A kiss while on or both parties is crying - Introduces Mira, Wolffe and Liri’s daughter and includes beautiful fanart by @sleepingsun501 of Wolffe meeting his newborn daughter for the very first time.

Cosplay

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylucksrogue/766899504463085568?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylucksrogue/766899532991807488?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylucksrogue/767116637980770304/why-is-it-that-the-first-thing-i-thought-when-i?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylucksrogue/764700151164059648/and-the-first-fitting-still-some-minor-details?source=share

Dividers courtesy of @moosgraphics @freesia-writes @panda-writing and @saradika-graphics

[what-if-i-like-my-mechs-older]

Pt27

Orion figured it would be best to do his work with Megatron, he wanted to spend some time in his presence, the sound of that rasping voice.

After all it had been a while since they'd just been on their own together, the last time ended with them being intimate and no doubt it would again.

For all of Megatron's actions he'd noticed that the Decepticon Leader wanted attention to, surprisingly it was Starscream he didn't see much of and he couldn't help but wonder if the seeker wasn't interested or he had a different Prime in his sights.

Obviously he wouldn't just be like

'Oh hey Megatron, what's Optimus like?'

Somehow he had a feeling Megatron would definitely get pissy and say

'What? I'm not good enough for you!'

He made a face like this =m= and decided it would not be worth the hassle.

So instead chose to think of more pleasant things like Megatron's voice...and the voice of the mech whose designation or visage he did not know, his ear finals twitched at the thought of them both telling him they knew how to put an Elite guard in his place.

No, he needed to behave, be sensible, they were letting him wander here and share their rations, the very least he could do was make himself useful.

Getting up he checked himself in the mirror, daring to keep his mask open, though at the first sign of judgement of his fangs it was going to snap shut.

Huh now that he thought about it, the bath had been taken out to, he glanced down at the floor , walking out his room maybe he could find scratch marks where it'd been hauled to, but alas nothing.

As his focus has been on the floor he walked into a Con he'd seen around but didn't know his name.

"Hey Prime , look where you're going would ya!"

Orion stopped and stared at him, trying to see if there was anything visually similar about him to any Mech he knew...

"Uhh I'm sorry, I was distracted, say , what's your name?"

"What they don't have a Blitzwing where you're from!?"

"Wait you're Blitzwing! Where's your accent! Well non American accent as for some reason most of us miraculously seem to have them."

(Ha I'm so funny 😒 🤔 😊)

Orion exclaimed, grabbing him by the head and pulling him in closer

"Doesn't your face have three different ones?"

Blitzwing pulled the mechs hands from his face, he wasn't too annoyed, after all from the sounds of it his counter part was so vastly different that he was unrecognisable in this Universe.

"Explain what you mean by accent and faces."

He returned, folding his arms, absolutely expecting an explanation and oh he got one.

After Orion had explained the split personality and German accent, Blitzwings arms hung by his side as he expelled a sigh with puffed cheeks.

"Well that's certainly a lot to take in, I can understand why you didn't know who I am...so moving on from that revelation, I hear you like older mechs, you uh wanna stop by my quarters some time."

"How old we talking here?"

Orion responded giving him a look over, he wasn't half bad but a good age difference would definitely be a bonus.

"Oh way before the war old."

Orion arched a brow and leaned an arm on the wall

"So you really are an older frame type, I may just take you up on that offer Blitzy, perhaps in a day or so, don't worry, I'll find you."

He placed a kiss to his forehead and smiled

"But for now, would you be so kind as to direct me to Lord Megatron, I have data work to do."

The first thing Blitzwing thought to himself was

'CRAP, I HAVE TO CLEAN MY ROOM.'

He kept his composure and gave a leering smile

"I look forward to it, as for Megatron he's down the hall third door after you take a left."

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

Placing a hand on Blitzwings cheek he gave him the softest of kisses before departing.

The triple changer let out a dreamy sound, oh so that's what Astrotrain had meant when he said there was something about Optimus that just made you feel giddy.

Next

Previous

First

[sparks-and-wires]

2P Canada General Headcanons

🐻‍❄️ James Williams, Always looks to be 25 - 30 years old.

🐻‍❄️ Man's a tree, 6'2 and often wears hiking boots that add another two inches just for traction. He's built like a lumberjack.

🐻‍❄️ He's pretty but man's never used it to his advantage. He literally has pretty privilege that he doesn't even acknowledge. He's aware of it, don't get me wrong, he's not the dumb blonde trope.

🐻‍❄️ Keeps his hair pulled back in a ponytail most of the time, he used to only cut his split ends. Allen was usually the one that bugs him to cut his hair 'before it gets long enough to trip over'. Every few months he has it trimmed back to shoulder length just so people won't bother him about it.

🐻‍❄️ James has been entirely self-sufficient since childhood because he was forced to be. François was far too gone emotionally to help James develop as a country at all, as he was simply taking orders from his boss to take Canada under his control.

🐻‍❄️ James’s emotional needs were never quite met and he was left to stew with many of the negative emotions he holds about “family relationships”. He can only understand happy family dynamics due to the free will and affection he'd received from Oliver as a child, but it was never enough. His time with Oliver and his brother wasn't a common occurrence, and he wasn't really taught much of anything through it.

🐻‍❄️ The only thing that James inherited from France was his language as he changed his name once he earned his independence on July 1st, 1867. From then on he was James Williams. His previous name was Matthieu. His brother still calls him Matt regardless of the change, and he doesn't correct him.

🐻‍❄️ Kuma, his 'pet' polar bear is rather just a wild animal that sort of adopted him. James has scars on his back and shoulders from lugging the bear around.

🐻‍❄️ James is not great with expressing his feelings and tends to repress them entirely. It's that stoicism that really makes him unable to appeal to most people's palettes. Not that he really cares, he figures the people who put up with his struggles are the only ones worth his time.

🐻‍❄️ He's blunt to a fault, will let you know directly if you're getting in his way, annoying the hell out of him, or just letting you know you're nice to be around.

🐻‍❄️ Quiet as hell around strangers, people forget he's really ever there which makes it easy for him to sneak up on others. Safe to say he's intimidating as hell to 80% of the population.

🐻‍❄️ He works as a forest ranger with the help of Kuma. He can be incredibly sweet to locals visiting the national park he works for. Kuma acts like his drug dog, sticking his snout into people's bags and clothing trying to catch a whiff of anything dangerous. It's not a very common issue, but he still catches kids from different providences trying to smuggle in weed or stronger substances to indulge in on park grounds.

🐻‍❄️ The park gave him permanent residency in a cabin off of the trails, far from tourists and hikers. It's one of the reasons other nations and his human coworkers refer to him being ‘isolated’. Allen still comes over to mess around and go on hikes with him every few months. Outside of that, he only has lost hikers at his door.

🐻‍❄️ Only uses the internet for specific purposes, types out what he wants to say over text without acronyms like 'smh'. You might get paragraphs upon paragraphs of explanations why he doesn't like or doesn't understand the meme you sent. Uses a phone and a computer, man doesn't need a smart TV when he can just watch birds.

🐻‍❄️ Most of his time is spent surveying the park for poachers, which Kuma is on standby to dispose of after James confronts them. If they're remorseful, they just get the cops called on them. The people who try to fight him are usually just labeled as missing after that. He doesn't feel guilty about it happening.

🐻‍❄️ The rest of the time is mostly just giving directions to campers, hikers, and other park visitors. He silently gives out maps during the morning before starting his shift. He's occasionally pulled to the side to be shown photography done by locals of the park, which gives him a ghost of a smile.

🐻‍❄️ He's been on the park grounds for so long he's in the original park foundation photos. No one talks about it, or asks him about his real age though.

🐻‍❄️ He's followed around the park by lost children, stray animals, and fawns. Back in 2015 he was followed around by a fawn for so long that people started taking videos of it. It went viral much to James's displeasure, and he had dozens of people asking about 'Dottie' as the internet named said fawn. He had to switch to the night shift for months to get away from the unwanted attention.

🐻‍❄️ Becoming friends with him is utterly insufferable. You could know him for months and still know nothing about his life outside of snippets he'd let loose to those who actually stuck around. It's basically just apart of the system he's put together to gauge if people are actually around because they like him or not.

🐻‍❄️ After that he thinks you've become close enough to where he'll actually start to mess around and actually act like a friend rather than just being the guy you can call to come pick you up when you're drunk, lost, or stranded somewhere.

🐻‍❄️ He's still quiet after that, he's just making jabs at you and giving you the 'big brother' routine. It's annoying, show up at all hours of the day to hang out, and he'll mess with you like it's his job. But he'll get rid of problems you don't even know you have, like stalkers. He's a ride or die kind of friend. Has Kuma get rid of a body if you kill someone kind of friend.

🐻‍❄️ He's never really wanted a partner, he'd been able to function fine on his own. He doesn't really understand the concept of romantic relationships, he just knows that he likes having certain people's attention. When those wants dip past what friends are supposed to be like, he doesn't realize the difference. Allen would be the one to explain what he's actually feeling if he didn't already blurt out things to you and you put the pieces together slowly after years.

🐻‍❄️ He's good with his hands, and can fix a lot of things if you give him a few hours.

[cosmossystem]

i've been thinking recently about roles, in the context of plurality, and why they bother me.

i think for us the reason we never liked "role" terminology is because it implies a static persona that just isn't present for us. a "caregiver role" implies that everything links back to that, that being a caregiver is the basis of your identity and you must always act like one, instead of it being more of an aspect to who you are. It's less like an MBTI-type and more like a job, less of a self-described role and more of a prescribed one.

If i had to guess i would say that the emphasis on role terminology likely comes from the emphasis on medical plurality & DIDOSDD in general, with some roots in the internal family systems model. for us, medical plurality is built on top of the idea of a self that is fractured in some way, which we do not vibe with at all. there is not a shattered self inside of us, but rather an incomplete self that holds multiple different selves all at once. and it tends to recreate the same selves over and over.

and to be clear, it isn't roles as a concept that i'm against (although I am, just a little.) really, i dislike the emphasis on "roles" in the plural community. like it's great if it works for you and yours&, but there's too much pressure to have roles in a system when it really isn't necessary. we don't ask singlets to fit into a specific role of The Protective One or The Asshole. we recognize them as being complex and holding all of those different capacities at once, sometimes Protective and sometimes an Asshole and sometimes both simultaneously. it's only because of split-self models (a la IFS) that we hold systems to that standard. it's backwards, reductive and objectifying.

of course, I recognize that there are layers to being plural, that some of us& are more distinct than others and don't need role terminology, but also that some of us& are less distinct and like the role terminology because it helps compartmentalize individual parts. to some systems, a role is more of an explanation of why that member is the way they are, similar to an origin. to some systems, a role just describes just how their brain functions and allows everyone to move. to some systems, roles are opt-in and give them extra structure. I respect all of this, of course. I'm not here to tell you what to do.

Still, i can't help but feel like the emphasis on roles is part of a greater issue in plural spaces, where it always comes back to "this is what it means to be plural the Right Way and if you don't do xyz you're doing it wrong," with the unsaid being that 'yes, maybe you& don't have roles, but you're the exception and not the rule.' It always boils back down to the idea that there is a 'right way' to be plural, and that the 'right way' is the way that was laid out by therapists and the DSM-5.

well, we do have something similar to roles, which we call "archetypes" instead-- essentially, just describes what dough we were made from when we were being made and baked. it doesn't necessarily mean we are stuck that way, just what we were intended to be, and may-or-may-not still fit into. like, we have the "brother" archetype, which is what our brain creates when it thinks we need a "brother figure" (this is inherently subjective to how our brain interprets that prompt at the time.) he might have a pre-determined set of traits (usually gentle, brooding, caring, masculine, protective) or he might only have one or two, but those can develop over time, and some of the members who were intended to be "brother" archetypes often develop to be wildly different than where they started. alternatively they can develop "into" the archetype, where they start as something else and become the archetype over time.

i don't see this as being a role, or even equivalent to one. I see it as being a cluster of traits that our brain knows works together, then mixes-and-matches as it sees fit or as it finds gaps in our system's collective capabilities. there is less of an emphasis on action and more on who that person is and how they act. in our opinion, with role terminology, the person always comes second to their actions. it doesn't matter what you do--if you're a caretaker, you give care; if you're a persecutor, you cause harm; if you're a host, you're "the main one" or "the core"; and so on. i don't want to be defined by what i do. I want to be defined by who i am.

red put it this way recently: "a role isnt something you are, its something you become." And i think that's more meaningful for us than the commonly accepted meaning of "you were created to be this and it's the way you will always be forever" -- both in-system and in general. you are more than the care you give or the memories you hold or the amount of fronting you do. you are who you become, and you can choose to become anything.

[gold-rhine]

Inazuma Rewrite part one

This is bullet points rewrite for Inazuma general plot structure, bc I think it had so much potential, but was horrifically scuffed in game. If I keep something from canon unchanged, I’ll just say so without retelling the entire thing to keep the length down, bc it’s gonna be A LOT already.

Some disclaimers: I’m not trying to fix every single problem, just what I see as major structural failures. I will reference my problems, but you can read my explanations on them more in depth in my “inazuma ranting” tag.

This is also not envisioned as free for all fanfic where I can write whatever I want, but aimed to be actually feasible to see in game, bc it’d be unfair and I want to show that Inazuma could be improved in the same constraints that hoyo writers had. So please don’t ask why I didn’t do wildly inconsistent thing that would be cool, but genshin would never actually do.

I’m aiming to retain all relevant lore and achieve basically same worldstate in the end, including character arcs, for the most part, because I presume them to be integral to the larger strategic plotline of the game. Which means I can’t drastically change characterization and major plot beats like the decrees, rebellion, Raiden has to be a sympathetic ally in the end, etc. I’m also trying to keep genshin’s general tone and modus operandi, bc like, target audience includes 13 yolds and I can’t just “make Inazuma good” by turning it into like, a gruesome and complex power struggle of political factions like Fallout New Vegas.

List of main issues I want to address: pacing in general, rebellion pacing especially, lack of impact and continuity of effects of vision loss on people, lack of setup for the stasis vs transience aka ei vs makoto conflict, character arcs: raiden, ayaka, kazuha, kokomi, yoimiya, kujou sara. And more! 

Initially I wanted to make a single post, but it’s already 3k and I’m only up to Raiden’s first duel and I plan to cover post-archon quest content too, like Raiden and Yoi story quests, so I decided to split it up instead of posting like 20k monstrosity. So remember, this is for now mostly a setup.

EDIT: Part 2

Raiden’s motivations\Reasons for vision hunt

Ok, so one of the biggest principal changes is that vision hunt and sakoku decree are active Raiden’s decisions, instead of Fatui’s plot that she’s just passively allowing to happen. Raiden closed the country, but she’s ok with Fatui starting a civil war and selling delusions, bc it doesn’t “affect eternity”, like??? I honestly think that the current plot of her people dying in a civil war meant nothing to her is much worse than her starting vision hunt decree out of misguided plan to ultimately do better for people.

I mean ok, we have to have closed borders to reference Japan’s history, sure, but like, the whole point of isolationist policies like this is to prevent the outsiders’ influence on the country. So she should not be ok with Fatui schemes at any point.  

I mean, if it was fallout new vegas AU, I’d keep it to show that dictator doesn’t not care about foreign powers exploiting it’s people as long as it profits the empire and helps to keep people subjugated, but like. Then raiden can’t be uwu waifu. So we gonna give her good intentions and integrity, but misunderstanding of humanity due to closing herself off instead.

Now to why would she close the country and institute sakoku decree. I want to tie this in with another plotline that is just. Kinda floating at sidelines at the moment, but I think could work nicely in tandem. The Scaramouche destroying Raiden Gokaden, the five schools of weapon smithing, which were canonically highly valued by Raiden.

I’m not gonna recount Scara’s entire plotline, but basically he went on a misguided crusade against Raiden Gokaden and managed to cause fall of 4 out of 5 weapon-smith schools.

Game says that he like, tampered with the schools and covertly led to their ruin, which like?? They never found anyone guilty, like the most prized weapon art smiths of your country fall apart and you’re like oh well, I guess Yashiro commission is just bad at it’s job?

There is a plot point in this story where Isshin weapon smiths, unable to replicate a faulty design that was Raiden’s commission tampered by Scara, were scared of Raiden’s wrath and decided to flee to Snezhnaya. I want to change it to be that there is an event, where ALL weapon schools receive same commission at the same time, and Scara tampers with it.

Just as in canon, scared smiths, but now from 4 schools, not one, are manipulated by Fatui to flee to Snezhnaya, But we add a new NPC, the most talented blade smith who had a vision. Fatui frame him as the ring leader, as if they were running not to save their lives because of the tampered design, impossible to fulfil, but that this was a betrayal because of his ambitions.

After this, Raiden has legitimate cause to feel like her eternity is threatened. She sees weapon art schools, one of the most prized country’s traditions being ruined in a moment because of what she thinks is ambitious hubris of one vision holder, who colluded with outsiders. So she closes Inazuma and declares a vision hunt, to prevent this from ever happening again.

But ironically, in truth it was the fault of not just Fatui, but specifically a puppet without a vision that she herself created and failed to supervise. This brings the main idea of the plotline from “Fatui evil, Raiden passive” to “Solipsist goddess who doesn’t understand humanity tries to protect her people by locking them in stasis and taking their ambitions, but the real case of tragedy was her negligence and lack of empathy all along, and this is what needs to be changed.”

Interlude and plot setup

We start with similar plotline. Traveler tries to go to Inazuma, learns that it’s closed, talks to Inazuman NPC to learn more. Here we’re introduced to the general idea that Inazuma was closed off due to one traitor blade smith with a vision who sold off Raiden Gokaden to Fatui.

We go to Beidou’s tournament, which goes basically the same, we meet Kazuha and watch a beautiful cutscene about his dead friend who challenged Raiden to a duel, and now Kazuha tries to find someone who can reignite his vision. I will actually add changes to Kazuha’s storyline, but it be will later.

then we arrive to Inazuma, go through the same bureaucracy loops with Thoma on Ritou, to show the barriers to outsiders and also to illustrate how Thoma is the best fixer when he manages to drop a fee from 1 mil to like 10 gold by promising to have a dinner with government official.

But we’re cutting the second part of Ritou, with the boring plot about like merchant from Mond scamming people with the local police and then Traveler delivering love letter or whatever. I mean, we can keep this as an optional side quest, if like hoyo thinks the lore about love letter is essential for the Ayato’s quest or smth, but not as an Archon quest.

Instead, we put a part of Yoimiya’s quest there. I think Yoi’s quest is relevant enough to stay in the Archon quest, unlike Ayaka’s, but it’s slapped into a place where it ruins pacing. So instead, we’re cutting it up in parts and inserting it into main storyline.

On Ritou, while doing bureaucracy bullshit, we meet Yoimiya, and play the part of her quest about her helping a guy with a vision to escape from his former best friend, who is now a guard hunting him. It helps to show the rift that vision hunt brings not only with the outsiders, but with inside of the country as well.

Ghost of Makoto\Transience setup

another key point that I think is integral to fixing Inazuma is planting seeds for Makoto’s reveal from the start. I really like the Stasis vs Transience conflict from raiden’s second story quest, where raiden believed in eternity as lack of change, a perfect state maintained until the rest of time, while her twin Makoto believed in eternity as never-ending change, where people’s dreams constantly evolve, nature of them chasing these dreams never changes.

but it feels like it came out of nowhere and raiden just speedruns character development in like an hour, so a lot of people ended up feeling like it was just about Raiden mourning her sister, instead of raiden coming to understand makoto’s belief system and through that unlocking makoto’s final connection and then being able to let go.

so we need to first of all, introduce makoto’s ideas of transience from the start, and also empathize the conflict of them with raiden’s stasis.

and it doesn’t mean we’ll spoil the reveal about the second raiden shogun! we don’t have to ever use makoto’s name, just her title as a raiden and sprinkle her ideas throughout the land. We know hoyo area designers can do that stuff really well (guizhong’s relics being scattered all over liyue, rukkhadevata’s shadow in the aranara quest).

like, it’s strange that Makoto primarily ruled and shaped country by herself while Ei was just a warrior, yet we do not have Makoto’s influence visible. We need to add ideas of transience into fundamentals of Inazuma,

“Transience is the dream of the nation of thunder. We find the greatest joys in mortal life in fleeting dreams, for is life itself not like the shadow of the thunder? Pursue your dreams into the clouds if you wish, and enjoy the unexpected silence of the dim lamp-lit nights.” - Guide to Transience talent book.

add these ideas all over the place, esp near sakura. And let’s draw player’s attention a couple of times specifically to the internal contradiction of these ideas of transience being integral to inazuma and raiden’s current hatred of change.

like, we need even 13 yolds and twitch streamers to remember this, so lets make paimon say like

“Huh, this shrine to raiden shogun says that eternity is the pursuit of fleeting dreams, but doesn’t raiden shogun fucking hates dreams?? I wonder, what made her change her mind about them to the total opposite!“

this and more subtle puzzles\locations with focus on transience for people who pay more attention will add the much needed setup for makoto’s reveal

Kamisato siblings

ok, first things first, Ayato being absent without any explanation while his little sister is plotting treason and his malewife Thoma is about to be executed on the streets is unacceptable.

like I know it’s marketing or whatever and he’s not being released but we need his model, hoyo. If we 200% CAN’T have his model, we need to come up with solid excuse why he’s not here. Like idk, he’s helping the war refugees or smth

And we need hints at his presence\influence throughout the story. Like oh, here’s group of refugees who were helped by Yashiro commissioner, they are relocating to new homes, I guess Ayato is really busy. Oh, here is Fatui’s camp where everyone is slaughtered and boba tea cups are littered around, I wonder what is up with that.

and also, Ayaka is organizing resistance behind his back, and we never meet him bc Ayaka actively tries to hide traveler from him.

bc like, Ayaka doesn’t have a development arc in archon quest. She’s just kind of there, being perfect. Like in her story quest that hoyo makes you do at gun point, you like, go on a date, learn that she’s lonely and has trouble connecting with people due to the pressure of having to project an image of perfection and societal distance, do an investigation to uncover her late mother’s fox fursona roleplay diary which she used to cope her with own societal pressure. Which like. Ok, sure, but but this wet socks quest is not an archon quest material. It should be just a normal story quest.

no, Ayaka’s real conflict is wanting to prove herself to her brother, bring real difference to the world. This is her ambition, she literally gained her vision while fighting Ayato in a training, she wanted to show him that she’s strong enough to handle responsibility, he named her Shirasagi Himegimi after she won that fight

but during a civil war, watching people suffer, her role as a cultural figurehead is not enough. She wants to help, but she’s afraid to act, because this will undermine Yashiro Commission and her brother worked so hard to build it back up after Raiden Gokaden fall. so she organizes resistance behind her brother’s back in secret, to help, but without compromising Kamisato name

this basically tracks with what happens in game, but we spell it out and expand on this later.

Getting Traveler to help

next, let’s throw out the weird edging introduction where traveler is not allowed to see Ayaka the first time. like??? bro, we’re friends with 2 archons and heads of their governments, you’re not that important. and it can’t be to protect her identity, bc like. You go to Kamisato estate! You’re told who she is! If you wanted to betray her, that would be enough already.

another awkward thing is that Traveler, who agrees to do every stupid quest they meet, suddenly refuses to help the resistance.

I think we should reframe their convo a little, like Traveler says hey I’d love to help, but my primary goal is to get info about my sibling from an Archon, so I don’t want to go against her.

To which Ayaka says oh, I totally get you, you see, I am myself a culture figurehead and a nominal princess and I can’t speak up against the decree, bc that will hurt Yashiro Commission. But I’m not asking you to fight Raiden Shogun in a duel or smth, I’m just asking you to help people with the resistance, which we do totally in secret. No one will know! Also, how are you going to see Raiden? She’s locked up and doesn’t appear in public. But my big brother is a head of the Commission, if anyone can get you an audience, it’s him. So help me help people and I will ask him to help you see Shogun!

she secretly believes that after traveler sees ppl suffering, they will change their mind and help willingly, same as in canon, but she’s more subtle about it

Rebellion connection

my other problem with vision hunt is that the 3 quests they force you to do about meeting people who lost their visions are like. not good. The concept is interesting, but they are just kinda boring and meandering. They lack dramatic impact. They could do better. So we’re not doing these 3 quests rn, but don’t worry about it, we will get to the effects of vision loss

Instead, ayaka sends us to help Yoimiya and we do the same quest we do in archon quest - help her to free someone from prison dungeon. It goes the same, we get to the dude being mistreated by cops, Kujou Sara steps up and lets us go

But then it’s like, we need to get this dude out of Inazuma city. Cops know he escaped! They will just come for him again! There is only one place that will take him and it’s the watatsumi rebels.

Common complaint about Inazuma is that other countries feel like found families and Inazuma doesn’t, bc characters from resistance and rebellion basically don’t interact, and it’s true. And like, we can get them together! Thoma knows Kazuha, Kazuha knows Gorou, Gorou in canon went to recoinsanse missions to Narukami island.

So, Gorou visits the tea house to pick up the Vision Dude, and the gang has the hotpot meet up. Everyone is there (except Kokomi bc ok hoyo, we’re saving up for dramatic battle reveal, and i think her reveal would fuck up banner schedule). Ayaka, Thoma, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Gorou. and Teppei! Who is here bc he was recruited by Gorou. He’s actually from Narukami island, not Watatsumi, and he had nothing to do with visions, but he’s an idealist, he believes in freedom, so he joined rebellion. fun times are had, Ayaka tries to play srs bsns lady host, but breaks into giggling at The Shenanigans, Gorou is overly polite but adorable and apologizes to Ayaka about The Shenanigans in which everyone but him participates, Yoi is a life of party and the Shenanigans and later has to be bodily stopped by Kazuha from organizing fireworks right here, right now, Thoma and Teppei both get sick from eating Ayaka’s nasty cakes that she threw into soup, bc Thoma is just into oral stuff and Teppei is so earnest and eager to prove himself and impress ppl, haha comic relief, look how sweet and funny this guy is and all characters get along so great with him

bc like, I think Teppei has a problem of a) not having enough screen time b)not having any interesting characterization moments to make him stand out 3)not having other playable and already likeable characters interact with him

so this scene can serve not only to bring that “unlikely bunch of people becoming friends and working together” connection to life, but also to endear Teppei to the players

Vision Loss Effects\ Yoimiya and Thoma

ok, next Ayaka asks Traveler to do that one quest about martial arts master losing their vision. I think it’s the one quest from 3 about vision loss with most drama, but the real reason is that it introduces Yae Miko and we need to do this before leaving for the rebellion. Like, in theory, it could be switched to another, better quest that lets us meet Yae Miko, but honestly, this is not one of Inazuma archon quest problems so I can’t be arsed. Feel free to imagine a cooler intro instead.

when we go back to tea house, we learn that Yoimya’s vision has been taken away. She has been recognized in that last prison raid and the guards came for her later, and she didn’t fight bc there were kids and her old father around.

She’s completely changed. Her innate optimism, her belief in people and their dreams has been drained from her like a sunshine from a dark cellar. But she’s still Yoimiya!! She came here to warn you bc she still cares even if she had her own joy taken from her. She tries to smile and reassure you that it’s ok, she’s fine, but her smile is visibly strained, she’s never had to fake it before so she doesn’t know how. She wears a vision, but it’s a fake one, because her pops said that maybe having it here would help and she agreed, tried to pretend for him that it does help, bu. It very obviously doesn’t.

Ayaka is horrified. She apologizes to Yoimiya, tries to think of ways to help her, but Yoi just laughs humorlessly. “It won’t ever touch you, princess.”

She’s immediately disgusted at herself and apologizes, tries to take it back, this isn’t her, she would never say this, and not to her friend! But also, it’s so hard to care now and she can’t remember why it’s so important to care at all.

Ayaka is shaken. Bc it’s true! She is a privileged noble, vision hunt will not come for her! She is playing at the resistance from the safety of anonymity, while people like Yoimiya actually risk themselves and pay the price!

And this is when the news that Thoma was arrested and about to be 100th vision taken at the feet of the statue comes. Tenryou commission truly strikes back.

Ayaka is in uproar. She’s ready to go herself and fight for Thoma, especially after Yoi’s words. She’s sick and tired of being a perfect princess, she can’t allow any more of her friends, her family come to harm because they don’t have her protection. Clearly Thoma being a theatrical execution is a blow specifically against Yashiro commission and Kamisato family in particular, and if Shogun has beef with her, well, she can settle it with HER instead of going after her friends!

Traveler stops her. This is what they want. If Ayaka openly moves against the Shogun, the entire Yashiro commission falls. Even if Ayaka is in the right! No, it’s the Traveler who will go to save Thoma

But traveler needs raiden’s good will for the info, they can’t confront raiden openly, it was the deal from the start!

But at this point traveler has seen too much, the divide in the country, the change and suffering of their own friends, and they can’t allow all of Yashiro commission take the fall.

This is when the Traveler decides to take a stand.

ACT 2

[luckiestplant]

For my Literature class i was allowed to make a short comic adaptation of a literary work that influenced me, so I picked Demian. If you want to read my explanation of why I picked it and made certain decisions, you can read it under the cut ! :)

[It is 862 words. I only needed to write 2 paragraphs. I... really like this book LOL]

I chose to adapt Herman Hesse's "Demian" because it's a very influential book for me. I saw myself in the protagonist, Emil Sinclair in how he worries about what other people think of him as a kid, leading him to tell different lies to different people. His struggle to rationalize what is "good" or "evil" is rooted in his religious upbringing, and his first step towards discovering himself and his own values is from someone (Demian) telling him a different perspective, and inviting him to think for himself. I felt seen in how Sinclair wants to be guided by others, but feels unable to teach others, and seeing him eventually reach independence makes me want to reach that point too. He starts off the book seperating things into binaries like Man and Woman, Good and Evil, but over the course of the book those concepts start to overlap and gray for him. He admires Demian and Beatrice for being a boy with feminine features, and a girl with masculine features, and when he eventually meets Frau Eva, he loves how handsome she is. The scene I adapted, where he sees himself in his own painting, not visually but emotionally, really connects with me as an artist who puts themself into their work, and gets a slightly better understanding of myself when I first step back and look at it. I don't want my pictures to look like a mirror of me, but still reflect me somehow. And with my experience with gender, I see myself in Sinclair's idealization of androgyny, even if those sorts of words would not be used at the time. This connection I felt with the book helped move me to read more classic literature and see myself in them.

I decided for the first page to not have a lot of narration because I felt that it could be told through pictures. The scene starts with the sun "slanting red through my window" during sunset, and "Inside my room it was dusk", which gave me my color palette for the comic; reds and warm purples. Sinclair is not very detailed in the first page because I thought it would feel more atmospheric, and to emphasize the self discovery on the second page. The three panels on the bottom were repeated with subtle changes in expression to give the feeling of time passing as, in the narration, "For a long time I sat oppposite it even after the picture had faded out." He blends in with the light of the painting because of how much he's taking it in; the last panel's sudden contrast is the moment of realization leading up to the next page. The painting's sudden detail is partly because I got too into drawing it, but is so important that it should be in substantially more detail; it is a catalyst for Sinclair, and it is symbolic of his connections (and future connections) in the book. Besides Sinclair's emotions, it is the most detailed description in that scene, and the way he describes it radiates joy and excitement.

The first panel of page two has vague drawings of Beatrice and Demian, with Sinclair sparking with recognition. I wanted him to have a similiar feeling as the painting, glowing with color, because this is an important moment for him. Beatrice is not very detailed because he has never talked to her; she is someone who he saw on the street and admired, and at that point, he had not met Demian in years. "But myself" is split from the sentance to give more emphasis on his revelation. The second panel's narration is split but tied together to make it feel more floaty and slow, to emphasize each point, and to help direct readers to the next panel with Demian (the lines in the last panel are also supposed to help cheat with that). The text around Demian purposefully switches alignment and leaves extra space to 1) help connect the flow of narration from the second to the fourth panel, and 2) because it conveys Sinclair's semi-divine view of Demian (masculine and feminine, youthful and mature). The woman in the fourth panel (who he later realizes to be Frau Eva) has especially split narration because he doesn't know her yet, and she is a dreamy "ideal" to him; she isn't concrete in his world yet. For panel 2 and 5, there is an egg cracking and a bird flying off as a reference to a motif later on in the book; "The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born first must destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas." This quote has found its way into media inspired by Demian, and influences how people see the characters, and it's an especially touching quote because of how strong and confident it feels. If the bird (Sinclair) is not able to break his egg (the sheltered world he grew up in), he will never "hatch" and fly to Abraxas (self-discovery). It felt especially important to me to include this motif even if it hasn't technically appeared in the book yet, because it is a perfect metaphor for growing up and for Emil Sinclair.

[atopfourthwall]

How would you rank the Ju-On/Grudge movies?

I'm not really a list guy, but quick thoughts on each: Ju-On: The Curse 1/2: It's one movie split in half, though admittedly points to the Curse 2 feeling different than the first by being more a possession movie than the normal format of a Grudge movie. It's clearly just the skeleton of the much better Grudge movies to come, with a few ideas like the multiple Kayakos that would have been fun if done with modern tech and... you know... a POINT but otherwise completely skippable unless you're curious how the franchise started. Ju-On: The Grudge: I know I've watched it, but for some reason I'm struggling to remember my thoughts on it. Not helped by me mixing it up with the remake, directed by the same guy who made this one (he's made the same movie so many times, it's incredible). Ju-On: The Grudge 2: As a sequel to Ju-On: The Grudge it works great, but it is a mess of half-baked ideas and a combination of interesting kills and outright goofy kills like the wig. Kayako wanting to be reborn is fine, but there's a lot of nonsense involved in it and she's still evil after being reborn for some reason. The Grudge: Good remake with some silliness in there and how I originally got into the franchise. The Grudge 2: Garbage. A few good kill ideas and moments (I like the subversion of the classic under-the-covers kill), but it gives an explanation for Kayako's ghostness that's completely unnecessary, Kayako plays dirty pool at a few points, the main character is a plank of wood, but it does have one good line from Kayako's mom that sums up the big issue people don't get when it comes to how they think they can end the curse: "This is NOT about a house!" The Grudge 3: Underrated! I do hate how they abandoned the nonlinear storytelling that's a staple of the series, but the visuals are pretty damn good, the story is fairly solid, and overall just a decent ghost story. Not great, but better than you'd think for a direct-to-video sequel. Ju-On: Black Ghost: Never rises above "okay." There's certainly something there with its premise, but it just feels like a big ol' pile of nothing, especially with an ending where a possessed girl just goes home and punches someone hard enough in the gut to kill them. Ju-On: White Ghost: Your mileage may vary on spooky grandma ghost in her silly Halloween mask carrying around a basketball. It's better than Black Ghost, but has so much silliness in it and there's no reason why either ghost should have Kayako's death rattle since neither was strangled. Ju-On: Beginning of the End: Great movie! A reboot of the series and focuses more on Toshio than Kayako and it works, with some neat twists and good scares. Ju-On: The Final Curse: Running on the much better fumes of Beginning of the End, just felt like a disappointing finale to the franchise, though points for them bulldozing the Saeki house (though as Kayako's mom put it - "this is not about a house!") and the first time in the franchise that two active, conscious people are attacked by Kayako at once (other times with another person they're usually catatonic). The Grudge 2020: Ugggghhhhh, whyyyyyyyyyy. The replacement ghosts are so boring and if you're not going to do anything with Kayako, why even connect it to the series that way? Has a few good moments plus the awesomeness of William Sadler, but it's not nearly enough to save this movie. Sadako vs. Kayako: Underrated! The title fight is too damn short and definitely more of a Ring movie than a Grudge movie, but the Grudge stuff delivers. It is also the only movie in the entire franchise where someone tries to actually do stuff to the ghosts. Like, nobody has ever tried kicking or punching the ghosts (yeah, I know it wouldn't DO anything, but still, everyone's always frozen in terror or running) and here comes our psychic duo to huck a rock and Toshio and for Sadako to actually attack and harm Kayako.

[forgottenwriter]

ForgottenWriter's Guide to Writing: Formatting and building your story, Part One

Okay, so, this one is going to be basic and helpful. If you're a more advanced writer, this particular article may not be for you, but for those of you getting started it could be good.

Often, newer writers will come to me and ask questions that they're super embarrassed about. Stuff that's really basic and they feel they ought to already know, but never picked up and now are ashamed to ask for help about.

There's no shame in this at all. The education system frankly sucks for this sort of thing, it often doesn't teach important concepts, or if it does, it glosses over them when it comes to writing and that's just not writing.

So now you've done your first One-Shot from the previous article, I am going to be teaching you how to format your next so it looks a bit more professional. I'll be giving some basic advice, and I'll be answering some common questions.

Paragraphs Let's start with formatting. One of the biggest issues that I see with newer writers is with paragraphs. Either, they use none or they use far too many and the story becomes a broken stream of narration. The way it was taught to me, each paragraph should represent a single topic. Not a single action, but every thought and action included in a paragraph should be connected somehow. Once the connection is broken, that's when you start your new paragraph. Allow me to provide a visual example - I'm a visual learner, so explanations usually don't work well for me. I need to see it in action. I am going to draw up a short scene for you, then I'll break down each paragraph and why it is or isn't separate. ''They were coming for him. Three of them; big, burly guys. More muscles than brain, and more guns than both. Harvold knew he was in deep shit the moment they kicked the door off its hinges with a heavy bang!

The first gun screamed a throaty bark and the chair next to him disintegrated; he avoided it by inches. His cyberware pushed his reaction speed to the very max, but it wasn't going to be enough. Not for long. If he didn't get out of this, he was dead, dead, dead!

There! To his left, a window that hadn't been covered. It led to a three story drop, but possible death was better than certain death, and he made a desperate rush for it! The gun roared, and Harvold felt an explosion of pain. Agony tore through him. The impacted slammed him hard again the wall.

He was hit. Bleeding? Yes. How bad? No idea, no time to check. He had to go! The window was close, and they thought he was dead, but the Ghost of Bal-Truc had more in him than just that! There came a shout as he sprang, followed by the crashing of glass. Then he was through.

And he was falling.'' Above, you can see a - very basic - story. I tried to keep things simple. Now, one thing to hold in mind is that the rules on paragraphing can be and often are bent for dramatic effect in fictional narratives. The big example of this is that the final two paragraphs in my story ought to be a single one, but I split them up to give more weight to the final line of the story as it feels more important to see it hanging there on its own.

Likewise, whenever characters speak, it's usually the start of a new paragraph as well, but that's not an actual rule and more something the internet seems to have come to a sort of consensus on at some point.

So, if you look at my example, you should be able to see the general structure. The first paragraph details the situation. It's the set up paragraph, it describes the danger, but it's a passive paragraph.

The second paragraph is where things spring into action, and its ''subject'' is the actual attack in the room. It ends when the subjects shifts to the possibility of escape, which then carries on until Harvold is hit - causing a new paragraph because that breaks the flow and resets things again.

Now, you don't have to put this level of thought into your paragraphs. Generally, most people will have a rough idea where paragraph breaks should go. You may not nail it 100% all of the time, but you'll get it close enough that for most people, it won't be an issue. As you practice and become a better writer, you'll get better at knowing when to stop and start your paragraphs too. Tenses All right, now I wanna talk about tenses. There are a bunch of them, and some are a little advanced, but Imma stick to the basic three here for now which all of the others are built from. All writing can be derived from one of three tenses. Past, present, or future. Tense just means whether the action is taking place NOW, has taken place already, or is going to take place. Generally, a narrative will choose one tense and stick with it for the whole thing, excluding dialogue which shifts back and forth.

Past tense: ''I drew my sword and charged the horde! There were many, but I'd win or die!'' Present tense: ''There are so many of them. I don't know if I can win. I was so sure before, but now I'm being overwhelmed. My muscles are aching, and every time they hit me, they chip at me armour. How much more can I take?''

Future tense: ''I won't win. I can see it now. They're going to cut me down. I'm going to run out of strength and then I am going to lose.''

Tl;dr, tenses are just whether your story takes place in the present, future or past. Advanced writers will sometimes intentionally mix tenses in a story for a given effect, but a newer writer probably shouldn't do that until they have a firm grounding for how tenses work.

The recommended tense for your story is Present or Past. Future Tense can be confusing to work through as a reader, and is often better relegated to dialogue.

Between Past and Present, neither is specifically better than the others, but they have different advantages.

Past tense is something that's happening in the past, so as the author, you can mix in more information without the reader feeling like it's coming from nowhere. If it's something the character wouldn't know in the moment? Well, that checks out. This isn't happening right now. They can figure it out later.

Present Tense is more dramatic. Because the story is being related to you right now as it happens, it feels like no one knows what could happen, and there is a sense of danger that Past Tense lacks. However, Present Tense is also more limiting and a bit harder to write in.

The order of easiest to most difficult tense to use in a story is as follows: Past>Present>Future>Mixed

There are more tenses that tend to be like, super specific, but 99.9% of the time, you're not gonna need them, so we'll ignore them for now. These three are your solid basics. Master them and they'll take you far.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

MORE BITCH SERA! MORE!

Emily and Lute are demanding to have an explanation of why souls has been going to Hell willingly. Also have explanations about Adam.

Lute: He wanted to visit Hell-?

Emily: Why didn’t you let him?!

Sera: I wanted the best for him, but I guess he didn’t. He made his choice, Emily.

Emily: You forced him!

Sera: Again I say, his mind was corrupted too much. He couldn’t be saved.

Lute: Adam is-

Sera: I don’t want to hear anything else about him. You will never see him again, final.

Lute: BUT-!

Emily: I DON-

Sera, her threatening voice: You don’t want to be associated with a corrupted soul would you?

Lute backs away, but Emily’s attitude does not change. She gritters her teeth.

Emily: Okay, maybe not about Adam, but you can’t be serious about the EXTERMINATIONS! There has to be a different way! You have to find one!

Sera: I tried, Emily.

Emily: What, with telling more lies?

Emily was too angry. This wouldn’t end well. Lute held her arm but she pulled it back.

Sera: Emily, Hazbin Hotel isn’t going to work anymore. The ex sinners here are returning there, and this means they are willing to rebel!

Emily: Maybe if you didn’t give them a reason to do so they wouldn’t! Maybe if you weren’t a-a-

Sera: Maybe if I weren’t a what?

Lute saw that. Lute saw that fucking arrow on her hand.

No no no no no.

Lute: Emily, calm-

Emily: -selfish little BITCH!

The word echoed in the room. With every echo, Sera’s expression broke more and more, becoming more and more darker.

Emily, puts a hand over her mouth: I’m sorry, Sera I-

Sera, blankly: That is what you think?

Emily: Sera I didn’t mean it!

Sera: Do you think, because I don’t care for any of those filthy souls down there, I’m selfish? Do you think they deserve better even though they refused the Heaven itself?

Lute, goes near Emily, trying to protect the one of the only angels who deserve heaven: She doesn’t!

Sera: Really? I clearly heard it. She was also the first angel to agree to Hazbin? And volunteered as the Heaven delegate of Hazbin Hotel. As if, *Comes closer* She believes that place is better.

Angels can be as fast as light.

—

Sera lookes at the two ex angels with pity and takes their halos, splitting them in half. She then gets rid of their corpses and got out.

She has to make a phone call.

Sorry if it’s a bit rushed. It’ll be deeper in the original work dw.

Also I can’t help my Emilute ass.

Wait..... Did she kill them!?!

What a bitch

[liamket]

I haven't done the update analysis the past month, so here it is!

I love the boys going into dungeons, and this update made me very happy!

now that I'm remembering it, they may or may not have gotten the map of this dungeon, if the second option is true its just Twilight guessing from the ruins

and isn't that so cool, this guy literaly is figuring out an ancient structure by just the ruins it left in the future. The photography memory this man has

i know this might not contribute anything but i want to check if i am not the only one that sees each one with a different emotion jksfjkds

left is sad, central is happy and right is angry, idk love when objects has faces

alright there's something happening between Legend and Wind, its clear

They haven't talked that much after their discussion in the Sunset arc, so there might be things that haven't been finished or that we didn't get to see between them

idk he seemed like that img "almost got into a fist fight with a 13 yo" or smth like that

Legend has learned a lot from his adventures, memorizing common dungeon puzzles and how to solve them, maybe he even got this puzzle wrong once, that would explain how he already knows about this problem and that can't be undone. I doubt the goddesses would throw their hero with a manual for dungeons

Also Wild has been very quiet during this update

Time still worries about Twilight, he just recovered from an injury that almost kill him, getting his strength back from that is impressive, but still he isn't sure if his descendant is completely healed

mf moving a whole block by himself if this isn't prove that he got his strength at least mostly back idk what it is

remember when i said that Wild had been very quiet? well

He doesn't know how dungeons exactly work, yes Warriors doesn't either, but Wild is more used to go with whatever solution he can find

The captain follows stragety, Wild follows luck, if there's something that can probably work he will take that opportunity

Although, he knows that maybe in here that will not work, but he still wants to feel useful and learn from this strange area for him

Wind telling him this might mean two things; 1. For the space of the corridor they would just be getting in the way and this is more for technical mobility, or 2. They don't really need their help right now, why bother to offer themselves if they will get told to move from the way?

something that i just noticed: is that a mirror? If so, i feel this dungeon will have some light puzzles, or maybe is just decoration, who knows

This place seems very related to owls, these birds being seen as a symbol of Wisdom, and i have seen a lot of people relating it with the Zeldas

with how things are going and Jojo's words, you all maybe aren't that far from the truth

again, mirror indicating that maybe this is a light puzzle, also that this structure is too similar to Hylia's statue in sksw, maybe is related?

not much to say here. love these two.

its very interesting (at least for me) that Four is the one that we see in this pannel, yes maybe he was the closest and thats why, but if we try to give it a more detailed explanation this might just reference him not trusting the magic that Twi uses to transform, he still thinks that its dangerous and would turn agains't them if they aren't careful

obviously this is where they split, going together will make dificult traverse the corridors with how things went the past update wiht the skulltula

also holy shit can we appreciate the backgrounds? i love the perspective its so cool

alr folks now is time for my fav pannels/parts of the update without further context!

i love when theyre small 🤏look at em

beautiful update im happy to finally share my thoughts i've been having them for a while jksfhdjk

as always art credits to @linkeduniverse!

[saelterlude]

started making this list early (11/02) even though there's no new performance until 16/02 bcs i accidentally found somethings (also bcs I was doing that cursed height ranking).

so here is link click musical clip list pt.3! (pt.1, pt.2, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7 here)

37. 15/11/2024, this! the OG hug with Shu Rongbo and Wu Yihan! Back when Shu Rongbo still (attempts to) have canon accurate split bangs and ponytail (unlike now when he has, adorable, messy bangs and a hard-to-spot ponytail), and his jacket still fits lol.

38. 17/02/2024, Cai Qi being a menace at rock paper scissors, Cai Lu being a menace on the sofa (+dog hat), and Wu Yihan being a menace to Hong Guo and they struggle to hold hands?? during curtain call. Also I don't understand why does Wu Yihan look so tiny next to Cai Qi, like? I never thought he was smol before this??

39. 06/01/2024, maybe it's because I was very tired when I found this but Du Guangyi tossing the cushion away like that is exactly my type of humor.

40. 16/02/2024, Let me give you the loudest QL slap you'll ever heard courtesy of Wu Hanglu and Wang Yifei's shoulders. Also, behavior wise Du Guangyi maybe the least LG-like LG actor but god do I like his humor (pls he jumped up the table like a pocong lol, and the way he jump kicked Wang Yifei? He's a Gem.).

(Honestly, I think I can make a whole other list just full of the shit Du Guangyi pulls. He's very mischievous but also giving grandpa. But I won't because @shimmeringweeds is working on a gifset of it <3 Goodluck!!)

41. 21/02/2024, Cai Qi being extra heart hands <3 and Wang Minhui being extra aggressive.

42. 24/02/2024 day, I have nothing to say other than Guo Hongxu is really pretty. No, I cannot explain why i pick this particular clip. Look up stage door pictures from this day too, I swear he's just really pretty on that day.

43. 25/02/2024 day, a second Guo Hongxu clip. Look at him being embarrassed and becoming a loaf.

Counting down to the 100th link click musical performance! These are the official special encore recordings from the musical's weibo acc. So they're modified versions of the actual performance.

Since we're getting into songs outside the usual encore, I'll reference you to this post by @sgdlr-asdfghjkl with lyrics and brief explanation to each song, it's an unofficial transcript but it's the best we currently have.

These first two are "Words Can't Convey My Love" (M07)

44. 20/02/2024, Wang Minhui bets he can confess better than Bai Zhuoming better, sings the confession song and fails miserably. And poor Wu Hanglu accidentally got kicked by Bai Zhuoming.

45. 22/02/2024, You have to watch this one. You have Du Guangyi being the comedic genius that he is, cocky speech, dramatic pause, Lu Guang rizz, pathetic crying, failed confetti. You get the best Wang Yifei outfit, also he's skipping around the stage. And Qian Anqi can't help but laugh too!

46. 23/01/2024, We got "Faith of Friendship" (M05). Teng Chunpeng and Du Guangyi gotta do pushups if they fail to land a shot, and the ending is hilarious, do give it a watch.

*note: You can see how M07 and M05 are actually supposed to go in the bottom of the pt.2 list.

Next two are also of the same song, the extended ver. of the sofa song "Forget About It" (M03). TW: hanging/noose. They take CXS's "I'll hang myself here" joke and put it in the song.

47. 24/02/2024 night, actor/role swap stage! Wu Yihan played CXS, Deng Xianling played LG, and Ding Xingchen played QL. Wu Yihan was definitely having fun howling here. Also, disastrous cast introduction by Ding Xingchen lol.

48. 25/02/2024 day, the actors are the right way around this time with Guo Hongxu, Ji Xiaokun, and Cai Lu. But they're all using different local dialect! You can even see Cai Lu cheats and read from her phone.

49. 25/02/2024 night, "As The Saying Goes" (M08), where mother and son have a quarrel. Cai Qi as CX gets scolded x4 by the rest of the cast as CX's mama. Yes, that includes Wang Minhui putting him in timeout. But there's more!

50. 25/02/2024 night, a very important fancam on the performance above. It's shaky but pls pay close attention to Zhang Jiahao, should be easy, the fancam is focused on him. the wig, the very real fried chicken (i thought it was a fake, it wasn't), he was munching the entire time, and the chair, thank you very much sir. You can even see him offering a bite and getting scolded by Deng Xianling.

(very good, very funny, a very special one fitting for the 50th clip.)

That's all for this list.

Last time I added a bonus clip of Wu Yihan in Love Musical. This time you can have these two bonus clips of Shu Rongbo absolutely slaying it in Hey!Arizona Musical. IDK what it's about but the set and costumes are so damn cool.

[circular-bircular]

I’m not going to bother blocking (believe it or not, I agree with some of your posts, and I don’t enjoy cutting off discussions) but I also am not giving anymore notes to the post, particularly when the “very open to discussion” person blocks and hides people attempting to add to the discussion. They also seem quite agitated with me and said they’d block me if I interacted again, so!

We're normally a long post to be in detail about our points and topics we get, or small generalized posts with 0 to no explanation at all because we're tired or some other shit that makes us be lazy and don't talk in depth in a a topic

And that is absolutely fair! We do the same — quick, over generalized posts. The difference is, we 1) try to make those posts as open ended as possible, or open to others experiences as possible, and 2) we accept the criticism of others when they tell us it’s over generalized.

All my response was was a criticism pointing out the flaws in the over generalization, because I think your over generalization was absolutely heinous, and is used constantly to discredit singlets from a discussion that I find them vital to.

In all the topics, not only surrounding system topics/syscourse the generalization don't talk about all the cases, there's a lot of "it depends" in every topic you can imagine, we firmly believe that the best answer to any topic regarding the topic is "it depends" but we're just too lazy to elaborate sometimes, that's why in the repost we did you may see some "incongruences", it's just we did talk in more depth, we're just lazy lol

K. “I’m just lazy” really isn’t the best defense you think it is. I’m glad you can acknowledge that you over generalized, but at that point, I think it’s fair to accept criticism from others for that laziness. Syscourse is a high-octane conversation with nuance and depth; not a quick post you fling out from your bed in 5 seconds with no thought because you’re lazy.

I get it, I do; I’m currently sick with at least 4 different illnesses and I don’t have a lot of spoons. But I can still debate. I can still raise valuable points and dedicate time to things. Hell, my response to your originally was lazy, because I relied on the thing I find easiest — sarcasm — to discredit your point, hoping the slap to the face bluntness might get through to you the point. That obviously didn’t work! It typically does for my 11 year old students, so I guess that’s on me for assuming you’d react to sarcasm similarly.

So yeah, we tend to generalize and be short with no explanation sometimes, you just happened to encounter one of that posts, but those post are completely open to civil discussion, in those cases we do prefer not to quote the first post because it's a lazy generalized why of our opinion. I say this to have in mind for future references with our posts, if we're gonna talk in depth of this topics we might seem hypocrite or incongruent for this exact reason

Thank goodness this is a civil discussion then! So was sysmedsaresexist’s reply, but you still blocked that discussion. Unless by “civil” you mean “must concede points to me, even if they disagree with me, and must not sound angry at all.” In which case — yeah no, I have dampened my anger far too much in syscourse to allow some rando who’s spouting non-nuanced nonsense to earn my silence.

I’m allowed to be pissed off at non-nuanced posts. I’m allowed to be upset at things that further the split between singlets and systems in the system community! (Though, thank you, because as this is my last response to this particular post, it’s helped me realize I can dedicate this frustration toward yet another post about singlets and how much benefit they have in system discussions!)

“Civility” is a concept that doesn’t make sense to me in these situations. I’m never sure what someone means. From my perspective, I’ve been civil. I’ve also been insulting and mean. I’ve also criticized neutrally. I’ve done all those things! That’s all still civil to me. I didn’t harass you, I didn’t blast you on my blog — I just reblogged your points (which from my perspective encourage a dangerous mentality) and was mean about it. I think I’m well within my rights.

I do think is inappropriate to make a blog about syscourse if you're not a system, yeah, the problem might affect you because of people who are close to you and they might have some things to say about topics regarding system, but when it comes to syscourse most of the topics around it are about the community of systems that affects the community of systems, so a non-system talking about it it's just weird and doesn't have sence

You keep flip flopping. You described how it’s perfectly reasonable for my partner to participate in syscourse in the previous post, and now you say they shouldn’t, but with a new goal post added.

I disagree with you fundamentally about what syscourse is about. Syscourse falls into numerous topics. My partner primarily posts about respect and research into DID. Is it wrong of them to do so? I don’t think it is. But that is still posting directly to the tags, directly to systems, and into the syscourse community.

I don’t think that’s wrong.

They can talk about their experiences and how somethings do affect them, in the case is talking only experiences like I don't think that count as syscourse, and I also don't know that singlet's post so I can't really talk a lot about that

They talk about my experiences more. They ask I preview their posts but I wish they wouldn’t; I’ve never had to change a word beyond showing them how to tag things.

I’m not sure why you don’t count it as syscourse when it blatantly is from my perspective. As always, a debate boils down to a difference in definitions. You’re clearly defining syscourse as something other than “a tag on tumblr (or on other social media, but for this conversation, tumblr) that is dedicated to discussions about system discourse.” Anyone can have a discussion.

We also have singlet friends who are normally involved and affected into syscourse or system like topics, but they recognize entering to syscourse isn't right

I wonder how much of that is because their friend puts posts out explaining how awful it is for singlets to post in syscourse…

I encouraged my partner to make a blog because they’ve helped me so much to understand my own systemhood. I needed their perspective to be where I am now. Non-nuanced posts like yours lead singlets to avoid these spaces and systems to believe that’s a good thing. That’s what I was fighting against.

Don't get what you're saying here except you like to do the same shit you claim I do lol, also wtf is "The Other Side"??

Okay, let me explain in more depth then:

I saw your very non-nuanced post and thought, “God, not this shit again. We see this constantly. I do not have spoons or energy to explain yet again, in detail, all of the reasons this is wrong. So I’m going to respond with sarcasm, since that’s easier, and explain how they are wrong that way.” This wasn’t lacking nuance; it was just a different way of tackling a lack of energy.

My response to you was brief — there’s nothing wrong with low energy posts, and I’m not sure where you got that from in my response. The issue is over generalizing your ideas in such a way as to demonize A Side — the “Other Side.” In these spaces, there’s always two sides in the debate: Your Side, and the Other Side. I sit in a nebulous “both sides” nearly at all times, and it often seems like your posts are trying that — but in this case, Your Side is Systems In Syscourse and the Other Side is Singlets in Syscourse. One is right and one is wrong, one is black and the other is white, and there’s no swaying your opinion.

You saw a post from the Other Side — a singlet in syscourse or someone supporting singlets in syscourse — and it pissed you off enough to post a non-nuanced vaguepost. If you wanted to use low energy while keeping the nuance, you could’ve said, “Posts like X piss me off because it doesn’t feel like OP has enough experience with systems to participate.” But given that your whole issue is just… singlets having a DNI on their posts or a stance on their blog (based on the OG post you mentioned,) it came across as “Singlets having any opinion about system stuff online is bad.”

Combine that with a non-nuanced “singlets aren’t allowed to syscourse” blanket statement, and that’s what I have issue with.

Does that make more sense?

Didn't say that, if you understand that is a you problem, what I did meant to say it's you can engage but don't do it in a way that isn't outside a third eye perspective, the topics aren't about you, you might be affected to them but aren't about you, so the best if you wanna enter is to doing in a respectful way

Okay, so this wasn’t clear due to how non-nuanced your original post was. If you wanted to say this, then you should’ve said it. If you didn’t have the energy to say it, then don’t fucking post it. You need to be clear about your words. Like, let’s refresh ourselves on what you said:

When you're directly affected by that is obvious that you can have an opinion, and ofc it's gonna impact your online life if it impacts your irl live, but because of that it doesn't mean singlets should be actively entering in syscourse/system topics

“That doesn’t mean singlets should be actively entering syscourse/system topics” has become “If you want to enter syscourse topics, you need to do so in a specific way and be respectful.” Do you understand how different these two things are? Do you understand how it’s not a “me” problem when I am literally reading the words in front of me as they are?

They're not affected in the same way a system would be affected, they can be affected ofc, we said that in the post, read it again please, so yeah, dk what you want us to say in this part

What I want you to explain is how they are not affected the same was a system is affected. Because from my experience, they are.

I am stressed out by syscourse. So is my fiancé. I am triggered by syscourse. So is my fiancé. I have insights into systemhood and how it impacts both me and those around me, and so does my fiancé. In all of your responses, you’ve still failed to address that discrepancy; why should singlets not participate?

The most you’ve said is “they aren’t affected the same way,” but that’s so nebulous and uncertain and denotes nothing. My partner is affected in the same way! I don’t understand why you won’t take my word for that through all of this.

It's obvious people are gonna have other things outside their professions, that's common knwoledge genius, again, I don't get your point in somethin so obvious that you can't make out

“I don’t get your point.” My point is, there are so many therapists and medical professionals who participate in syscourse, which goes against your original claim. I’m uncertain how you missed that. Maybe it’s because you just flat out blocked SAS’s response about that topic? They spoke at length about those medical professionals. I would suggest reading that blocked reblog for some more perspective.

I'm not even gonna try to talk about the other things you say because it's just nonsence shit and you justwanting to attack me or shit like that, you're simply being someone inmature and I see you really open to civil talk, the main point of the blog here

“I’m not even going to try and address your other points because you’re just attacking me and immature, and I’m only interested in civil talk”

Pray tell, the other points I made are attacking you? How? I saw it as attacking your position. We’ve already discussed the “civility” thing (people are allowed to be mad, get used to it) but I see nowhere where I attacked you. I may have used some insulting language (I think I called your beliefs absurd at one point, so I could see how that would upset someone) but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t civil.

(The other points, for context, were further examples where singlets would have a place in these conversations, including final fused systems who choose to identify as singlets; these points are evidently attacking them.)

And I saw your posts, you don't care about breaking others boundaries, if you do that online what can I expect you do irl? Or you're just a incongruent hypocrite like you say I am? You don't want to engage in anythig real but hate and attack, and you see pround about that, or at least you don't see that as a real problem when it is, you're just bein an inmature hater

You mean my one post I’ve made, across around 7 years of syscourse at this point, saying I don’t really listen to DNIs anymore because they’re simply used to avoid discussion and spread misinformation?

Welcome to Ad Hominem, by the way! Why does what I do in my regular life matter? Why was that relevant to this discussion? (It’s not; it’s moralizing about me to try and demonize me because oof ouchie my words hurt your fee fees >;). To that point; I have written numerous posts about respect, understanding the other perspective, and the understanding of consent. I teach in my regular life how boundaries are vital and that students need to set boundaries with their teachers and parents, especially as a traumatized individual who lacked boundaries.

What do you do?

don't have time for inmature people like you and that's why mid reblog I just gave up because people like you can't appeal to civil disccusion which, again, is what this blog is about. And even with almost no boundarie and DNI you still manage to break it, I'm impressed in a bad way

Again. “Civility” is being defined by you were very differently than by me. Hilarious.

For me you're just a little hypocrite hater inmature and a bad person, other people might not see you as a bad person? Good for them, I don't fucking care, you care that I see you as a bad person? It's a you problem that I couldn't care less, you see me as a bad person? Good for you, it's the lastthing I would care tbh

I have to be perfectly honest, I can’t interpret this.

It seems like you just calling me an immature bad person? Not sure how that’s relevant to the discussion. We’ve just resorted to playground name calling it seems.

I really do not care if you see me as a bad person, and I certainly don’t see you as one. Not really sure where that came from, to be honest. What a non sequitur.

I can't have a real talk with someone like you so this "talk" ends up here, if you respond with another repost I'll just ignore it and block you, I recommend you ignoring me from now on, or if it helps your black hater heart block me, demostrate you can be mature shall we?

“If you reblog” (not repost, we use different language on tumblr) “I’ll ignore you and block you, or you can be mature and block me first.”

…

You still haven’t blocked me ._. ? Like. Okay, you know you don’t have to wait, right? You could’ve done so at any time.

I haven’t blocked you because I don’t feel the need; I enjoy conversations and the ability to see other perspectives. It’s just that your perspective is unclear. You’ve still not explained any differences that would necessitate that singlets not participate in syscourse, whereas I’ve explained in each of my posts situations where singlets would be welcomed. A vague “it doesn’t affect them” isn’t enough.

But sure; please feel free to block me and have any sort of opinion about me. Lord knows you’re not going to be remembered. The amnesia does that to me lol.

Have a good day!