#semantic highlighting

[mentalisttraceur-software]

Happy to discover that there's a name for one very useful alternative to mere "syntax" highlighting, which I naturally started doing for increased communication efficiency in my posts: semantic highlighting.

For example, each variable or function (within some scope) gets a distinct color.

Obviously in a limited color palette (like if I wanted to turn the results of a semantic highlighting library into Tumblr formatting which can still be manually edited without changing/losing color in the official post editors) you would perhaps have to reuse colors.

But if you have full RGB color space, a good move is to do what was described in this blog post: sort all identifiers, distribute them along a color spectrum.

For example, look at the way I use color in the code blocks of the `lambda-let` post. A syntax highlighter could never even come close to this. Automated semantic highlighting could get you most of the way there.

You do still need a mind's touch for things like choosing

yellow for both `let` and `apply-partially` (because both bind values to locally scoped variables, which is the relevant similarity in this case),

red for `lambda`,

orange for `lambda-let` (because it's the combination of those two).

Those are specific, intentionally suggestive choices that take into account semantics which you can only infer from the prose around the code.

So for blogging, I'd want the option of more manual control to put on those little finishing touches. Also, for blogging, you might even reasonably decide that in some situations syntax highlighting is better than semantic highlighting. (You might even decide that in the middle of editing/viewing code actually - I am a big believer in having a fast keybind to toggle code coloring - my ideal future setup instead cycles coloring between off, syntax, and semantic (possibly more than one for each kind).)

But for the most part, I think semantic highlighting is the superior approach, or at least is an umbrella that contains approaches which are superior for many cases. I would much rather that every IDE and code display used some basic semantic highlighting.

[gunsatthaphan]

~ Monthly BL Breakdown: October 2023 ~ 

☔️ Happy November!!! 🍁

Disclaimer: ALL shows can be streamed here or here, as well as on Youtube and other platforms. For more info on where to watch what, check out this post! 

New breakdowns are coming at the end of every month - feel free to add stuff! -> previous breakdowns

What came out this month? (green = seen/currently watching)

🌟 Sasaki to Miyano - October 1st (Japan)

🌟 If It's With You aka Even If I Fall In Love With You - October 5th (Japan)

🌟 What Did You Eat Yesterday? Season 2 - October 6th (Japan)

🌟 Boys Like Boys (dating reality show) - October 9th (Taiwan)

🌟 Lucky Love - October 15th (Thailand)

🌟 GMMTV2024 lineup event - October 17th (Thailand) ✅

🌟 One Room Angel (manga adaption) - October 19th (Japan)

🌟 Bump Up Business - October 20th (South Korea)

🌟 My Dear Gangster Oppa - October 26th (Thailand)

🌟 The Camp Fire (part of Y Universe) - October 29th (Thailand) ✅

🌟 Shadow - October 31st (Thailand)

Monthly likes/dislikes

👎🏻 my rant of the month goes to the delulu ON stans and their fucked up actions like how messed up do you have to be fr. no idea where these peoples' common sense went but I hope this doesn't affect Kidnap in the long run. I'm excited for the show and I hope they can overlook the bullshit. I'm sure Ohm is used to it by now anyway but leave Leng alone ffs. big sigh.

New series & movie announcements

🎥 Dear Kitakyushu - Coming 2024 (Thailand/Japan)

🎥 1000 Years Old - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Perfect Propose - Date TBA (Japan)

🎥 That Year 162 Rainfalls (novel adaption, by the author of HIStory: Trapped & Kiseki: Dear to Me) - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 High Demand - Coming 2024 (Thailand)

🎥 The Hidden Moon - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Eu Is Love - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 OMG Vampire (from the director of Dear Doctor) - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Dead Friend Forever (a BOC original) - Date TBA (Thailand)

Other news from the BL world

❗️ FortPeat (Love in the Air) were announced as the leads for MeMindY's upcoming BL Love Sea. The drama will air in 2024.

❗️ BossNoeul (Love in the Air) were announced as the leads for MeMindY's upcoming BL The Boy Next World. The drama is considered a TharnType-spinoff surrounding Phugun & Cirrus and will air in 2024.

❗️ Dear Kitakyushu was announced as the first Thai-Japanese crossover BL movie. Mark Siwat and Uemura Souta will star as the leads; shooting has already begun. The film will air in 2024.

❗️ After rumors spread about an upcoming Thai adaption of the Korean BL Semantic Error, the author of the original novel came forward and negated the rumor.

❗️ The author of the adapted BL novels Triage and Manner Of Death announced that her novel Euthanasia will be adapted soon. It tells the story of a doctor who advocates euthanasia and becomes a suspect when mysterious deaths occur. One of the victims is the mother of an inspector who was battling cancer.

❗️ The first part of the GMMTV2024 lineup event was held on October 17th. The following BLs were announced:

We Are (starring PondPhuwin, AouBoom, WinnySatang, MarcPawin)

The Trainee (starring OffGun)

Summer Night (starring Phuwin & Dunk, with BL side cp)

Only Boo (starring SeaKeen)

Ossan's Love Thailand (starring EarthMix)

My Golden Blood (starring JossGawin)

Wandee Goodday (starring GreatInn)

My Love Mixup (starring GemFourth)

-> After initial confusions, GMMTV confirmed Kidnap to be a BL as well. The show stars Ohm Pawat and newbie actor Leng Thanaphon. This announcement however caused fans associated with the OhmNanon ship to protest publicly in the form of multiple LED ads across Bangkok, as well as public letters of complaint, shitstorms on Twitter and collective harassments on social media towards Leng. Neither of the actors nor the company have released a statement about the incidents yet.

❗️ Korean model and actor Nam Yoon Su was announced as the lead actor in the upcoming KBL Love in the Big City. Further details are yet to be announced.

❗️The Korean BL Unintentional Love Story is getting a spinoff revolving around the characters HoTae and DongHee. Filming is set to begin soon.

❗️ At the streaming event for the final episode of Love in Translation, the mains Daou & Offroad announced they will star in a movie together in 2024.

❗️ After winning the Be On Cloud reality show The Hidden Character, actors Ta Nannakun and Copper Phuriwat were offered the lead roles in the original Be On Cloud series "Dead Friend Forever", which was written by Sammon. The genre is described as 90's teen slasher horror. Filming has already started and the show is set to air on December 23rd.

Upcoming series & movies for November

👉🏻 Twins - November 3rd (Thailand)

👉🏻 Last Twilight - November 10th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Middleman's Love - November 10th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Beyond the Star - November 11th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Playboyy - November 16th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Pit Babe - November 17th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Wheels and Axle - November 17th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Bake Me Please (starring Ohm Thitiwat) - November 19th (Thailand)

👉🏻 7 Days Before Valentine - November 22nd (Thailand)

👉🏻 VIP Only - November 24th (Taiwan)

👉🏻 The Sign - November 25th (Thailand)

👉🏻 For Him - November 30th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun - November 30th (Japan)

👉🏻 Boy of God - November TBA (Thailand)

👉🏻 Wuju Bakery - November TBA (Thailand)

👉🏻 Online in Love - November TBA (Philippines)

[frederickkittens]

Part 1 of my list of Chinese indie brands

It’s a lot to sort through and compile honestly so i wanted to start with a much smaller section that I think the people who interact with my account would find the most interest in:

Oldschool on taobao

Disclaimer: I’m not arguing semantics about a key word in a post made to highlight Chinese brands. Oldschool has always been used as short hand and as a key word to describe the aesthetics and style of pieces from a certain time and not just pieces actually from that time. If you’re actually confused: these are not authentically pre 2006 lolita shops: they’re simple shops that I think do a good job at emulating oldschool aesthetics, or have items that work well in oldschool coords. Disclaimer over now let’s get into the fun stuff

Shops with ❤️ next to their names are ones I’ve personally bought from and can discuss in more detail if wanted !

❤️Lace garden

vintage headbands shop

Mukumuro

❤️Totoro shop

❤️Flower bag shop

❤️summer clothing studio

❤️rococoheroine

sos meme club

sweetheart wonder house

rose and neverland

cyan cat

take shuya away

little bear lolita

❤️nobleman socks

big grocery store

a thousand trees

Antaina

Angelic imprint

With puji

Princess reserved

Youma princess mother and baby

Not everything from these shops works for oldschool and may not be everyone’s taste but I hope it helps!

I will be making follow up posts of specific oldschool items I’ve found that aren’t from shops that consistently sell oldschool. Thank you guys for being patient with me putting all this together.

[mechawriterperson]

Springtrap DBD model analysis and opinion

All images are from the official Dead By Daylight twitter account, while the model dissection images are from @LukaszBorges on twitter, the image in front of you is from @Croco_Art_ also on twitter

Springtrap is finally in DBD and we got to see his model and i want to do an analysis on it and give it my full on thoughts!

Now the model right from the outset is really faithful to the original Scott Cawthon Render. The pose, the vibe and it all practically screams "Yup this is William Afton aka Springtrap in HD gory glory ready to murder people in the Fog!"

But there are differences especially when you put the two renders/models side-by-side. The first thing were covering first is the suit.

The first thing to be noticed besides quality of the models (because DBD's model is the objectively better one here for the most part) is the texture of the DBD model is more of an actual fabric (something reminiscence of stretchy Fleece fabric) and is a slightly different color of green. The color of as described by my friend @amcomix, "As a barf green" (even thought the color is more of a Olive Green but eh semantics) meanwhile the original Scott model had a more "Rotten green color".

Now this isn't to say that the DBD model is bad or that these are complaints, ultimately I think the coloration and the new texture were required for this model and ultimately make it better than the current official Scott model.

Another thing to note is that there's a lot more wires on the DBD model, while the Scott's model only has like gray wires and fleshy tendrils. Another thing to notice is that the withering is different between the two models, while the withering placements and shapes are mostly similar. There are small yet obvious changes to see. Some spots of withering have either gotten bigger, smaller, wider, longer, etc, And the general shape of the tears in the DBD model is a lot more natural and what you expect from wear and tear. Where as Scott's withering is more jaggy and square-ish. (Also there's like an extra button on the DBD model compared the Scott one).

Now all of these difference in my opinion are for the better and are harmless. For one the new natural withering is great, the added wires makes sense, and the coloration and new textures really make this model better than the original springtrap in my opinion. But this nxt observation is one where I'm a tiny bit miffed.. SPRINGTRAP IS MISSING HIS DARK GREEN UNDER BELLY! a-and his dark green ear highlights i-i guess... BUT THE BELLY IS THE THING THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS!

Now this might be the most noticeable thing between the two models, you see in DBD model... the belly is just gone like it's fully removed and considering how FNaF animatronics usually have a belly that's a secondary color most of the time, seeing Springtrap without it is weird and imo just makes him feels a bit incomplete. Like yeah i'm fine with ears not having the undertones because they don't get noticed by people much, while the belly is big and noticeable so literally removing is gonna be noticed and focused on (god i'm sounding very weird with my words... bleh). Now this doesn't detract my stance that DBD's Springtrap model is the best, its just a blemish on a great model for me.

I guess the last thing to mention when it comes to the suits are the eyes. When it comes to the eyes of Scott's model they are pretty decent all around, gray iris, kinda dull bloodshot sclera's, the eyes are clearly just a texture on the model but it works and the expression in the render shows Springtrap as kinda tired almost barely clinging onto life... unless were looking at the UCN profile.... he just looks like he's about to answer a question for the teacher.

Where as with DBD model The sclera's are purely gray and the iris's and pupils are clearly indented. Almost as if he's fixated on something or someone. Now it's also good to keep in mind that DBD Springtrap is more animated and emotive than regular Springtrap. And you can tell the eyes were changed to give Springtrap more emotion when he kills you or when he chasing you or when he's in the lobby or when he's in promotional material. as you can see here.

Now do I think this change is bad... UH NO, you see Springtrap having more emotive eyes is a good thing because it helps portray Springtrap character and plus most fans would want that and so far its working.

Now that the suit has been covered let's move onto the endo and the corpse, Now lets start off with his feet because holy shit DBD fix them. Now the problem with Scott's Springtrap feet is that they look out of place... by that i mean the just like have lines of flash and fleshy tendrils on the endoskeleton feet. Now with the DBD model it still keeps the feet the way they are but actually makes them look more... like it can actually make sense... The metal endo feet are now covered in dried blood and the flesh tendrils are now more like intestines that have fallen out of Afton's body and are used to keep his feet from falling off the suit he's trapped in.

Now the rest of the endo is pretty much what you expect from a Springlock endo. But the corpse is completely different between the two, Springtrap's original corpse looked like a giant maroon head with big bulging eyes placed where an endo skeleton's head is suppose to be with a bunch of "Flash" tendrils big and small wrapping around the main torso area and all around body. It wasn't bad and there were ways to make it scary (the rare screens are a perfect example and many animations have used it to peoples advantage too).

Where as the DBD model looks like an actual tortured human corpse that is decaying yet in some way clinging onto life. You can see his rib cages, his neck and his pelvis, the only things that are not there is the eyes (because those eyes are a separate rig), feet and hands and those are because those are apart of the endoskeleton side of the model. Seriously DBD took the original model and gave it a whole glorious overhaul, not to say that the original model is bad because I still do love it and i think the model should still be used by new fans and more. But DBD's model is just now my new favorite.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Final thoughts i love this model and everything Springtrap offers to DBD and i might talk about the lore and the characterization and the costumes and Animations and voice lines/voice work related to Springtrap's chapter soon but for now this is my unprofessional and very opinionated model analysis.

MechaWriterPerson out.

[prokopetz]

"Turn-based roguelikes going graphical is bad because old school ASCII user interfaces are so much more transparent and accessible" yeah, I love guessing which of three or four completely different things a given ASCII character represents this time. Having the screen transform unrecognisably between one turn and the next and trying to figure out what the fuck just happened by combing through a log file which somehow manages to be both cryptically terse and exhaustingly verbose at the exact same time is fun and enriching. Being forced to choose between navigating a menu system that puts hyper-specific commands you will literally never use at the top level while nesting commands you'll be using constantly four layers deep, and resorting to non-rebindable hotkeys whose semantic mappings were evidently designed by someone whose native language is Klingon? Genuinely the highlight of my day.

[estellan0vella]

The Science of Falling Softly: S.C Seo Changbin x fem!reader (college!au)

WC: 13.1K

CWs: past sexual harassment/sexual assault (non-consensual sexual act (masturbation) occurring on a bus), PTSD, Fear of buses / public transport, facing fears

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

The hallway of the Alpha Phi frat house creaks under Seungmin's socked feet as he pads along the upstairs corridor, hands stuffed deep into the pocket of his oversized hoodie, eyes squinting against the too-bright glare of the hallway lights. Behind him, the door to his room is cracked open, and the unmistakable giggle of his boyfriend echoes out. Seungmin doesn't even bother to look back. He knows exactly what Jisung's doing, hogging his bed again, blankets everywhere, laptop perched on his stomach, probably watching another trashy mystery docuseries. Never mind the fact that Jisung has his own damn room literally two doors down.

He mutters under his breath, something sharp and vaguely affectionate about freeloading boyfriends, as he stops in front of Changbin's door. 

"Oh Chaaaangbin," Seungmin singsongs in a tone designed to be as irritating as possible, stretching the last syllable just enough to make it feel like fingernails dragging over a chalkboard.

Changbin doesn't look up immediately. He's hunched over at his desk, back curved in a way that would make any chiropractor cry. There's a diagram spread in front of him, some anatomy chart of muscle groups, and a messy scrawl of highlighter trailing all over it in neon orange and blue. A pencil is tucked behind his ear, and another one is clenched between his teeth, a telltale sign he's been deep in concentration for a while.

"What do you want?" he grumbles, voice gravelly like he hasn't spoken in hours.

Seungmin walks in without being invited and flops face-first onto the bed like he owns it. He's sprawled out like a lazy cat, arms and legs spread, already making himself comfortable.

"You know how my car is-" he starts.

"Fucked?" Changbin interrupts immediately, deadpan. "Not road-safe? A fucking death trap that probably violates seven traffic laws just by existing?"

Seungmin lifts his head just enough to roll his eyes. "Yes, that. And you have a really nice car?"

Changbin turns in his chair. "Yeah, what about it?"

"So," Seungmin says slowly, like he's testing the waters, "I have a friend. Y/N. She's a nice girl, brilliant too. Biomedical Engineering major, Molecular Biology minor, absolute fucking genius. She lives like twenty minutes off campus, and for personal reasons I can't really disclose, she doesn't take the bus."

Changbin's eyebrow lifts. "Okay..."

"I usually drive her to and from campus every day, right?" Seungmin continues. "But now my car's out of commission for the foreseeable future until I can scrape enough won together to get the radiator fixed, and the axle, and the engine, and literally everything else because that piece of shit is practically being held together with prayer and duct tape."

"You mean it's been held together with duct tape," Changbin mutters, turning back to his notes but not actually looking at them.

"Semantics," Seungmin waves off. "Anyway, point is, until it's sorted, I need someone to drive her. And you, my friend, have a functioning, sexy-ass vehicle and a generally tolerable personality, so will you be okay being her chauffeur?"

"You're actually asking me to be some girl's personal Uber?"

Seungmin huffs. "I'm asking you to help a friend who can't get to class otherwise. It's not like she's gonna ask you to carry her bag or anything. Just a lift to and from campus. That's it."

"You said she doesn't take the bus for 'personal reasons,'" Changbin says, making air quotes. "The fuck does that mean? Is she snobby or...?"

Seungmin sits up properly this time and glares. "No. If she was some stuck-up bitch who thought buses were 'beneath her,' I wouldn't be friends with her, would I? It's a legit reason, alright? But I'm not telling you what it is because it's personal and she doesn't like people knowing. But it's not shallow, and she's not difficult. Trust me."

Changbin stares at him for a few more seconds, clearly trying to suss out if Seungmin's being serious. Eventually, he shifts in his seat again and shrugs, stretching his arms above his head. "Why not ask one of the others?"

"Chan's too busy," Seungmin says without hesitation. "He's got like twelve classes, the football team to babysit, and two internships. You think he's gonna have time to pick someone up at seven in the morning?"

"Okay," Changbin concedes. "What about Minho?"

"Minho would either hit on her or offend her. Possibly both at the same time. You know how he is. He has no fucking filter."

"Fair," Changbin mutters. "Hyunjin?"

"Worse," Seungmin says. "He'd probably show up with sunglasses and a flower crown and ask her if she wanted to skip class and do a photo shoot. I'm trying to get her to graduate, not run away with a drama queen."

"Jeongin?"

"Would forget. Not maliciously, but he would one hundred percent forget. He'd be on his way to pick her up and get distracted by a sale on scarves or some shit. He's sweet, but he's not dependable."

"Okay, Jisung?"

Seungmin lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "Can't drive. Failed his theory three times and gave up. He says it's a sign from the universe."

"That's actually a good call," Changbin says, snorting. "I don't want him behind the wheel of anything bigger than a tricycle."

"Felix doesn't have a licence either," Seungmin adds. "And even if he did, he'd probably drive with a seatbelt around his neck like a choker and play K-pop girl groups at max volume."

Changbin rubs a hand over his face and exhales slowly, realising where this is going. "So basically, I'm the best of a bad bunch."

"Exactly," Seungmin grins. "You're reliable. You're punctual. You're not likely to crash into a tree while changing the music or forget what day it is. You don't flirt with strangers in the middle of serious conversations. And you don't let people down."

There's a pause where Changbin pretends to think, but the corners of his mouth twitch just slightly. "Was she in a bus crash or something?"

"I told you, I'm not fucking telling you," Seungmin snaps, smacking Changbin's leg with a pillow off the bed.

Changbin raises both hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Alright, alright. Jesus. No need to get violent."

"Just take her," Seungmin says, almost pleading now. "She's sweet. You'll like her. She's quiet at first, but once she warms up to you, she's fucking hilarious. Dry humour, brutal honesty, same vibe as Jisung, which should tell you everything. And she's not gonna talk your ear off unless you want her to. She's respectful as hell."

Changbin raises an eyebrow again, leaning back in his chair. "Speaking of Jisung. What does he think? Your boyfriend has a sixth sense for shitty people."

"Jisung fucking adores her," Seungmin says immediately. "He's always dragging her into our nonsense. She helped him put together his midterm presentation last semester and refused to take any credit for it. He said she's one of the few people who don't treat him like a joke."

Changbin whistles low under his breath. "Alright, damn. That's high praise."

"So, you'll do it?"

There's a beat. Then Changbin shrugs like it's not a big deal. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Thank fuck," Seungmin says, relaxing fully against the pillows. "You're a fucking lifesaver."

"She gonna comment on my driving?" Changbin asks, turning back to his notes and picking up his pencil again.

"Nope," Seungmin replies. "She's not a backseat driver. She'll sit quietly, probably listen to whatever shitty music you're playing, and thank you when she gets out. She's polite. She won't annoy you."

Changbin hums, pencil scratching against the paper again. "Cool. I'll pick her up tomorrow morning, then. You gonna text me the address?"

"I'll send it now," Seungmin says, already pulling out his phone. "She's usually ready by 7:10, latest. She'll be waiting outside. She doesn't like people waiting on her."

"Fucking hell," Changbin mutters. "You owe me coffee for this."

"Don't act like you sleep."

"I still want the coffee," 

Seungmin groans but nods. "Fine. You'll get your shitty overpriced americano."

"Make it an iced vanilla latte."

"I'm not buying you a fucking milked down coffee."

"You're asking me to wake up at ass-o'clock and chauffeur someone I've never met, you can suck it up and buy me my latte."

Seungmin mutters something vulgar under his breath, but he's already typing out the message with your address and your name. He sends it with a little flourish and leans back, satisfied.

"There. Sent. You better be nice to her."

"I'm always nice," Changbin says, lips twitching again. "Unless people piss me off. Or if they chew with their mouth open. Or if they take forever ordering food."

"She doesn't do any of those things," Seungmin promises. "And if she does, I give you full permission to abandon her at the side of the road."

Changbin laughs again, shaking his head. "Noted."

Changbin taps the side of his steering wheel as he waits in front of the apartment building that Seungmin texted him last night. He double-checks the GPS pinned to the top of his dashboard, comparing it to the painted numbers on the curb and the side of the small, modest brick building. It's a quiet residential street, tucked away from the louder traffic-heavy roads of central Seoul, and the early morning haze gives everything a pale, sleepy glow. His phone buzzes with a notification from Jeongin in the frat group chat, but he ignores it, eyes flicking up to the front door.

The engine hums softly beneath him, low and steady, his playlist thudding faintly through the speakers. He adjusts the collar of his glossy black jacket, tugging it down over the deep red tank top beneath, and shifts in his seat. The black cargo pants he's wearing are slightly stiff at the thighs from how long he's been sitting, metal zippers cool against his skin. His red-and-black sneakers tap against the brake pedal, restless. He's not nervous. Just curious.

Then the front door opens, and you step out.

Changbin's fingers freeze mid-tap. You don't look up right away. You're adjusting your black tote bag on your shoulder, the movement precise and graceful, as though you've done it a thousand times. The fitted black long-sleeve mock neck hugs your frame without being tight, structured but soft-looking, and the wide-leg grey trousers you're wearing flow elegantly around your white sneakers with each step. They sit high on your waist, cinched with a clean waistband, not a wrinkle in sight. 

And your hair. Holy shit. The base is a rich, deep black that gleams when the light hits it, but it's the vivid magenta and purple streaks that make his eyes widen slightly. They wind through the messy updo like a halo, framing your face and flaring out at the sides in a way that's both chaotic and beautiful. It's the kind of look that demands attention without begging for it.

You reach the passenger side of his car and gently knock on the window with two knuckles, soft and hesitant. 

Changbin blinks, pulled back to reality, and immediately winds the window down. You lean forward slightly, hair catching the breeze, and say in a quiet voice, "Hi. Are you Changbin?"

He blinks at you for a second longer than is probably socially acceptable. "That depends. Are you Y/N?"

You give a small smile and nod, your fingers curling slightly around the strap of your tote.

"You got ID?" he deadpans, one eyebrow lifting like he's dead serious.

Without missing a beat, you open your bag and start reaching inside, your expression calm as you pull out your student ID and offer it through the open window. Changbin lets out a snort, then shakes his head and hits the lock on the door with a loud click. 

"I'm fucking with you. Get in."

You blink once, clearly thrown, then smile a little wider, tucking your ID back into your bag before opening the door and sliding in.

"Seat adjuster's manual," he says, nodding at the lever by your knee.

You quietly adjust the seat, clicking it back slightly, and set your bag down at your feet. "Thank you for this," you say after a moment, glancing over at him as you clip your seatbelt in place. "I don't know how much Seungmin-"

"I don't need to know," Changbin cuts in, shifting the gear into drive and easing away from the curb. "If Seungmin of all people is willing to go out of his way to defend you and keep your story private, I don't need the details. Don't force yourself to tell me anything."

You look at him, really look at him, and your smile, small and genuine, pulls at the corner of your mouth. "Thank you," you say softly.

The car hums quietly as he turns onto the main road, the early traffic light but steady. You sit neatly in your seat, back straight, hands folded in your lap. You're not fidgeting, not talking just to fill the silence, and somehow that makes Changbin like you more. He's been around enough noise, especially at the frat house with Felix blasting music at all hours and Jisung yelling about murder documentaries while Hyunjin and Minho argue over everything like it's a war. You, in contrast, are peaceful.

He glances at you sideways, then back at the road. "What time are you finished today?"

You take a second to think, then reply, "I usually stay back a bit to go to the library. I time it with football practice, like I did when Seungmin drove me. So about half five?"

Changbin nods. "That's great, actually. I've got training until six, but I usually get off the field around five thirty. I can swing by on my way out."

You glance at him again, eyes bright but cautious. "I can wait a bit if you need longer. I usually bring notes to revise in the meantime."

"Nah, don't worry about it. Half five's fine," he replies, merging smoothly into a busier road, the city starting to wake up properly now. "Seungmin said you're never late."

You nod once. "I don't like wasting people's time."

He scoffs under his breath, but not unkindly. "You're already miles ahead of the rest of my house."

You smile again, silent for a few seconds. Then, almost shyly, "He said you were reliable."

"Did he now?" Changbin says with a crooked grin. "I'm flattered."

You don't say anything to that, but your smile lingers.

He's used to people talking too much on car rides. People who think silence is awkward. But you don't seem to mind it at all. You just look out the window, shoulders relaxed, like you're completely content to be exactly where you are without needing to perform for it. It's oddly refreshing.

"You nervous about being driven by a stranger?" he asks after a minute, more curious than anything.

You turn your head slowly. "No. Seungmin trusts you."

Changbin's grin twitches at the corners. "He shouldn't. I'm a terrible influence."

You glance at the dash, then back at him. "Your car's clean. That says more than you think."

He lets out a bark of laughter. "Clean car equals decent morals?"

"Or at least someone who doesn't live in chaos," you reply gently.

He hums, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel again, this time to the rhythm of the beat thudding through the speakers. "You're observant."

"I study people. And patterns."

He shoots you a quick glance. "You sure you're not a psych major?"

You shake your head once. "Biomedical engineering. Molecular biology minor."

"Fuck," he mutters, impressed. "That's brutal."

"I like it."

He whistles low. "Alright, hardcore."

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, one of the streaks catching the morning light again. He tries not to stare.

The two of you drive in comfortable silence for another few minutes. The roads get more familiar as you near the college, Changbin takes the back route past the coffee shop he knows Seungmin likes. He glances over again, noting how you lean slightly against the door, watching the buildings pass by with quiet interest.

"You always this chill in the mornings?" he asks, not able to help himself.

You smile slightly. "I've been up since five."

"Jesus Christ, why?"

"Habit."

"That's insane."

"It's efficient."

He laughs again, and it's genuine. "You and Seungmin are fucking freaks."

"Thank you," you say, soft and amused.

He pulls into the university parking lot and finds a spot near the main building. As he shifts into park, he glances over again.

"So I'll see you at half five?"

You nod and reach for your bag. "Yes. Thank you for the ride."

"Don't mention it."

You pause with your hand on the door handle. "And thank you for not asking."

"Hey," he says, voice serious for the first time since you got in. "If you ever want to talk, I won't pry. But I'll listen. No pressure."

You look at him again, and there's a flicker of something in your expression. "I appreciate that."

He nods once. "Go study something too advanced for my dumb ass."

You smile. "Good luck at practice."

You slip out and close the door gently behind you. He watches as you cross the lot, quiet and graceful, that flash of magenta and purple catching the light again.

He exhales through his nose and mutters to himself, "Fuck."

You're going to be a problem.

Changbin drops you off a little past six. The sky's already bruising with the colours of twilight, lavender bleeding into the greys and dusky blues of the horizon. He watches as you step out of his car, the hem of your wide-leg trousers skimming across the pavement like soft smoke. You pause before closing the door, thank him again with that small smile of yours, and lift a hand in a brief wave that's somehow both elegant and shy.

He sits there for a second after you disappear inside the apartment building, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He should leave, he's got a stack of notes to write up and at least three pages of a report due tomorrow, but his brain is moving at half-speed, rewinding the last twenty minutes like a goddamn highlight reel.

The memory that won't stop looping, though, is the drive-through incident.

It was simple, really. He'd asked if you were hungry on the way back, more out of habit than anything, because usually when he offers, people jump at the chance to stuff themselves on junk. You'd hesitated, said you didn't want to be a burden, but when he told you to shut up and pick something, you'd laughed under your breath and asked if they had mango bubble tea. That laugh had been soft. Almost hidden. But it made his fucking chest warm.

So you pulled up to the window together, him reaching for his phone before you, quick as a flash, snatched it right out of his hand and shoved your card at the cashier before he could react.

"I said I'd cover it," he muttered, trying not to sound grumpy as the total appeared on the screen.

"I know," you said, slipping his phone into the space between the seats before he could reach for it. "But I wanted to. It's the least I could do."

You didn't say anything else, just took the drinks from the window, his iced americano and your mango bubble tea, and handed them over with both hands, delicate and careful, like the gesture meant something. Like it wasn't just tea and coffee. And when he thanked you, you just smiled that small smile again and said, "You're welcome, Changbin."

He can still hear the way you said his name. 

Now, hours later, Changbin sits at his desk in his room, trying to focus on his coursework. There's a muscle fibre diagram open on his laptop and a half-written paragraph about quadriceps femoris contractions in front of him, but all he's thinking about is the way the magenta and purple streaks in your hair glowed under the streetlights when you turned your head. The way your voice curled softly when you spoke. How the hell had he not met you before?

He sighs and drops his head forward with a dull thunk against the desk, mumbling a low, exhausted, "Fuck me."

Right on cue, the door creaks open.

He doesn't lift his head. "Unless you're a miracle who brought coffee, get out."

"You met Y/N, huh?" Jisung's voice cuts through the quiet, smug and singsong.

Changbin hums in response, his forehead still pressed to the desk.

"Too pretty for your gym-bro brain?"

Another hum. Louder this time. Maybe a growl. Jisung takes it as permission to enter, the floorboards creaking under his socks as he shuffles in.

"Aw, look at you," Jisung coos, stepping up beside him and reaching out to gently pat his head like he's a tragic little puppy. "There, there. Oh, mini munchkin man. You'll live."

Changbin finally lifts his head, glaring half-heartedly. "Don't call me that."

Jisung just grins wider. "You're so down bad, it's hilarious."

Changbin groans again, rubbing his hands over his face. "Why the fuck didn't you and Seungmin tell us she existed? You've been gatekeeping her like she's the last good person in Seoul."

Jisung shrugs, flopping down on the edge of Changbin's bed like he owns the place. "Because she is the last good person in Seoul. And you lot are fucking animals."

"Okay, rude."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Changbin opens his mouth, then closes it again. 

"Exactly."

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it's going to give him divine answers. "Seriously though. She's... quiet. Really fucking gentle. You don't meet a lot of people like that. Most people are loud as hell just to be heard."

Jisung nods, less joking now. "She doesn't feel the need to be loud. That's what makes her rare."

There's a stretch of silence between them, then Jisung says, a little softer, "You have to be careful with her, you know?"

Changbin peeks at him through his fingers. "I know. I figured. She's got that look."

"What look?"

"That look like... like she's had to hold herself together for longer than she should've. Like she's still stitching the pieces."

Jisung nods slowly. "Yeah. She's been through some stuff. Just... don't fuck around, okay? If you decide to go for her, be the gentleman of the frat you're known to be. Don't be a fucking manwhore like Hyunjin and Minho."

"I'm not-" Changbin starts, then pauses. "Okay, yeah, I've had moments. But I'm not like them. I'm not that dumb."

"I didn't say dumb. I said whore."

Changbin snorts, but there's an edge of real seriousness there now. "I wouldn't mess her around."

"Good." Jisung shifts so he's lying back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. "She deserves someone who actually gives a shit."

"Her hair," Changbin mutters, frowning at nothing. "It reminds me of someone, but I can't figure out who."

Jisung smirks again. "Raven Queen. From Ever After High."

Changbin's eyes widen. "Holy shit. That's it. Raven Queen."

"I helped her dye it."

"Of course you did," Changbin mutters, then groans. "Fuck, I used to watch that show with my older sister when we were kids. Jaehee was obsessed with it. She was older than me, so she always took over the TV. I never got a say. But Raven Queen was my favourite. Had a massive crush on her."

Jisung snorts. "Full circle, then."

Changbin leans back and lets his head fall against the chair with a dull thud. "She does look like her. Same vibe. All quiet and powerful and kind of mysterious and shit."

"She loves that show, you know," Jisung adds, glancing over at him. "Still watches it when she's stressed. You should talk to her about it. There's a conversation in for you."

Changbin raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

Jisung nods. "Dead serious. She made me rewatch like four episodes the last time I was over there helping her move furniture."

Changbin grins. "Okay, good to know. I'll use it."

"Use it wisely," Jisung says, mock-solemn. "You only get one shot to nerd out about magical animated teenagers before it gets weird."

Changbin snorts. "You know what's fucking weird? The fact that I've known you and Seungmin for years, and you've been hiding her like she's a secret weapon."

"She kind of is," Jisung says with a smirk. "In the best way. But hey, now you've met her."

"Yeah," Changbin murmurs, almost to himself. "Now I've met her."

And he knows, deep in his bones, that something's just changed. Something quiet and irreversible.

The second Changbin turns the corner onto your street, he sees you. You're already outside, like you've been standing there for a few minutes waiting for him, but you don't look impatient. Instead, you look serene, like the early morning chill doesn't touch you at all. 

You're holding two travel coffee mugs and a small plastic tub cradled in your arm. His eyes catch on your boots first, knee-high black leather with stilettos that click faintly against the pavement as you shift your weight, like you're posing without meaning to. The tight high-waisted black shorts are ruched in a way that makes them hug your curves perfectly, and your sheer black tights glisten faintly under the streetlamps. The cropped black leather jacket gleams under the light, and beneath it, the fitted black turtleneck clings to your torso, tucked in neatly and smoothing your silhouette into something sleek and effortless.

And your hair is swept up into a tousled high bun, messily elegant, with strands falling gently around your face. They frame your cheekbones and draw attention to your eyes, which glint with soft amusement when you see him pull up. You give him a little nod, smile quiet and polite, and he thinks that he might actually die if he ever gets to kiss you.

He throws the gear into park and hops out immediately, jogging over to you. 

"Hey, hey, Jesus, what are you doing holding all that?" he says as he reaches you, eyes flicking between the mugs and the tub. "Give me something before you drop it "

You hold out one of the mugs and the tub without argument, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder with your now-free hand. He notices the mug first, it's got a sparkly letter C on it, the kind of glitter that shifts colours in the light, and around the base are small stickers of anatomical muscle diagrams, weight plates, protein shakers, and tiny cartoon dumbbells. It's so detailed that he stops for a second and stares.

"You bought me a mug?" he says, eyebrows lifting as he takes it from you.

"Technically, it's a travel mug," you say softly. "But yes."

He turns it slowly in his hands, grinning wider the longer he looks. "Wait... are these stickers covered in resin?"

You nod. "So I can wash it without them peeling."

He's beaming now. "Holy fuck. That's actually so cool. You made this?"

"Yes, so I can make coffee in the morning."

"Shit. That's... fucking adorable."

You glance away, smiling slightly, and gesture toward the car with a small tilt of your head. He opens the passenger door for you without being asked, nudging the tub into the cupholder while you settle in. He closes it gently behind you, then jogs around to the driver's side and climbs in, placing both mugs between the seats.

As you buckle your seatbelt, you say, "An americano for you. I asked Seungmin last night how you liked your coffee. I thought I should at least caffeinate you and feed you breakfast if you're going to get up every morning to pick me up."

He laughs, glancing sideways at you with open affection. "You're gonna make me cry. I've been picking people up for years and no one's ever fed me."

"I find that tragic," 

He chuckles again, starting the engine. "What's in the tub?"

You flip it open without ceremony and the smell hits him immediately, sweet, rich, nutty. His eyes go wide.

"Is that hotteok?"

You nod. "Walnut and brown sugar."

He gapes. "For me?"

"For both of us," you reply simply, peeling one from the pile and offering it to him on a napkin you've produced from your bag.

"Holy fuck," he groans around a bite, chewing like it's the best thing he's tasted in weeks. "You're spoiling me."

"I enjoy cooking," you say, taking a bite of your own. "And it keeps well if you don't finish it all."

He glances at you with mock sternness. "If Seungmin's car gets fixed, I'm still picking you up. No way in hell I'm giving up this breakfast service."

You smile, sipping from your travel mug. He watches you from the corner of his eye as he drives, both of you quietly munching on the hotteok and sipping your drinks. The car feels warmer than usual. Not in temperature, just in vibe. Like it's wrapped in some kind of gentle cocoon.

"What's in your cup?" he asks, gesturing toward your mug as he licks brown sugar off his thumb.

"Raspberry leaf tea with honey."

"Can I try?"

You don't hesitate. You hold your mug out and wait for him to take it. He lifts it carefully, takes a sip, and blinks. "Ooh, I like that," he says, licking his lips. "Sweet, but not sickly. Real smooth."

You take the mug back and cradle it in your hands. "It's calming."

"Yeah, but not as cool as my special mug." He holds it up again, admiring it like it's a trophy. "I'm genuinely obsessed. This is my personality now."

"I give them to all my friends," you say, still quiet, but there's something pleased in your tone.

"Well, I'm honoured," he says. "Like, seriously. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for me since Felix bought me protein powder for Christmas."

You both lapse into silence again, but this time it's expectant, charged with something bright. He's finishing his second hotteok when he glances sideways at you, then laughs suddenly.

"Took me a fucking minute, but I finally remembered where I recognised your hair from."

You glance over, curious. "Oh?"

"Raven Queen," he says, grinning. "From Ever After High."

You gasp, eyes going wide, nearly spilling your tea in the process. "You've watched Ever After High?!"

He nods, proud. "My older sister was the dictator of the TV when we were kids. She was obsessed. I wasn't allowed to change the channel unless I wanted to get a plastic tiara thrown at my head. So yeah, I know all the lore."

You press your hand over your heart dramatically. "Be still my heart."

He snorts. "You're such a nerd."

"Says the man who recognised Raven Queen."

"Hey, she was hot."

"She is hot," you correct.

"True."

You lean against the window slightly, still smiling. "I loved Raven and Dexter's little romance arc."

"Same," he says, nodding. "Dexter was underrated as fuck."

"Everyone wanted Daring, and I was like, why? He's a literal narcissist."

"Dexter was awkward but genuine," Changbin agrees. "Had the better hair, too."

"Objectively better."

You both fall into laughter, warm and easy, the car full of sugary smells and caffeine and shared nostalgia. He's never had a morning like this. Not even close.

"It's obvious who my favourite character is," you say, gesturing to your hair.

"Yeah, you're basically her incarnate."

"And who was yours?"

He thinks for a moment. "It's gotta be Briar Beauty or Ashlynn Ella. I liked the Royals who didn't want to follow their destinies. That shit hit."

You hum in approval. "Good picks. I always liked the ones who were trying to make their own path."

"Guess that says something about us, huh?"

"Probably."

You both smile again, this time slower, lingering. The campus looms ahead, and neither of you are really ready for the day to start. Not yet. But at least, for these quiet, strange, sweet mornings, you're not starting alone.

It's Friday night, and your apartment smells faintly of coconut and cherry blossom, the scent rising gently from the colour-protect mask soaking into the streaks of vivid magenta and purple in your hair. You're sitting cross-legged on the couch in your favourite oversized pyjamas, black with tiny constellations patterned across the fabric in silver thread, soft from a hundred washes. Jisung's beside you, slouched into the cushions like his bones have given up entirely, wearing ridiculous red flannel bottoms patterned with cartoon strawberries and an ancient band tee that's so threadbare it's basically mesh now. He's halfway through his second glass of cheap wine, legs kicked over your lap, and the TV glows gently across the room with Ever After High's familiar pastel world.

Ashlynn Ella and Hunter Huntsman are on screen, sitting together beneath a tree in one of the sappy side plots, and you're both sipping your wine in peaceful, tipsy silence when you sigh into your glass and mumble, "He's so hot and thoughtful."

Jisung glances at the screen, then back at you, blinking. "Who, Hunter Huntsman?"

You frown slightly, glancing at him like he's missed the entire point of the conversation. "What? No! Changbin."

Jisung straightens up slightly, eyebrows raising high. "Ohhh," he says, dragging the word out like a kid who's just discovered a secret. "You're liking compact muscle man, huh?"

You shrug, noncommittal. But your mouth twitches at the corners, like you can't quite keep the smile in. Jisung, of course, picks up on it immediately and gasps dramatically, hand to his chest like he's in a soap opera.

"Ooooooh," he sings, grinning like a little shit. He wiggles his eyebrows and takes a long, theatrical sip of wine, eyes never leaving yours. "Someone's got a crush."

You snort and roll your eyes, gently nudging his knee with your elbow. "He's hot, muscular, and nice. What more could I want?"

He raises his glass in salute. "Exactly! So make a move already!"

"I barely know him," you protest, setting your wine down on the coffee table as you lean back into the cushions. "It's been, what, two weeks? Ish? I can't just throw myself at him."

Jisung scoffs. "So? Romeo and Juliet knew each other, like, three days, and that was still iconic."

"They both died."

"...Wait, what?"

You blink slowly. "That's how the story ends."

"WHAT?! No. NO. What?! I thought it was a fucking romance!"

You can't help it. You burst into giggles, trying to hold it back but failing miserably as he stares at you like you just told him Santa Claus is real and he's been cheating on Mrs Claus with the Easter Bunny.

"Oh my God, Ji," you wheeze through your laughter, "how the hell do you not know this?"

"I never fucking read it!" he cries, gesturing wildly. "I thought it was, like... dramatic but romantic. I didn't know it ended in a goddamn bloodbath!"

"Okay, okay, she fakes her death, he poisons himself thinking she's dead, she wakes up, sees him dead, tries to kiss the poison off his lips, it doesn't work, so she stabs herself. End of story."

Jisung gapes at you, stunned into silence. Then he slowly brings his wine glass to his mouth and drains it in one long gulp. "What the actual fuck."

You're still giggling as you lean over to pour him another glass, shaking your head. "Honestly, I feel like half the population doesn't realise it's a tragedy. They just remember the balcony scene."

"I thought they fucking ran away together and had, like, magic babies or some shit," he mutters, accepting the refill with a dazed look. "Fuck's sake."

You laugh again, tucking your knees under you as the next episode starts playing. The hair mask has begun to stiffen slightly where it's been sitting, and you reach up absently to make sure your bun is still holding. Jisung watches you for a beat, then nudges your thigh with his toes.

"We got off topic."

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your wine. "We did?"

"You could still date Changbin."

You stare at the screen, watching as Raven Queen walks into a sparkly corridor full of levitating books, her cloak swishing dramatically behind her. "I'm literally scared of the bus, Ji."

He softens, setting his glass down and turning more fully toward you. "For a very valid reason," he says gently.

You sigh, eyes flicking away. You wrap your arms around yourself, not because you're cold, but because you feel suddenly too small for the room.

"I know," you whisper. "But it's a lot to explain. And I don't want to dump that on someone I've known less than a month."

Jisung opens his arms without a word. You scoot toward him and collapse into the hug, resting your head on his chest. He smells like strawberry body lotion and red wine, and the comfort he brings is immediate and complete.

"You don't have to tell him yet," he murmurs, one hand rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. "He'll wait."

You hum, closing your eyes for a moment. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he says. "Changbin's a bit of a dumbass, but he's a good one. And he's fucking sweet on you already."

That makes you smile against his shirt. "He likes his mug."

"He's been showing it off like it's a fucking Olympic medal at practice," Jisung mutters. "Jeongin tried to take a sip out of it and Bin almost ripped his throat out."

You laugh again, soft and real. "That's dramatic."

"He is dramatic."

You both settle back into the couch again, his arm still around your shoulders, your head tucked under his chin as the TV flickers through another episode. Raven Queen's voice carries across the room, low and strong and defiant, and it echoes something inside you, something about rewriting destiny, about quiet strength and choosing your own path no matter what others expect.

"I think he's the first person in a long time I don't feel scared around," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Jisung squeezes your shoulder. "Then don't rush it. Just let it be what it is. And if it becomes something more... you'll know."

You don't respond with words. Just a quiet nod, the kind that says everything you're not ready to say aloud. And together, you sit in the soft glow of the screen, safe and warm, while Raven Queen continues her fight against fate.

Changbin pulls into the familiar spot outside your apartment building, the tyres crunching gently over the gravel as he eases the car to a smooth stop. His fingers tap against the steering wheel in rhythm with the low beat coming from the car's speakers, but his eyes are already drifting to the front doors of the building.

You step out right on cue, shoulders tucked against the lingering morning chill, your breath misting faintly in the cold. The emerald green of your fitted turtleneck catches his attention first, rich and deep like forest moss, layered beneath your cropped black leather jacket that nips perfectly at your waist. The cut of your high-waisted black slacks emphasises your silhouette, cinched clean and tailored to your frame, and the black stiletto ankle boots clack softly on the pavement as you approach the car. 

You're carrying both of your travel mugs, one in each hand, and a small plastic container tucked under your arm. Changbin's already pushing the door open when he sees you juggling it all.

"Why the fuck are you always trying to do this on your own?" he calls out as he climbs out of the car, quickly jogging around to meet you.

You smile as he reaches you, handing over the tub and the black travel mug with his sparkly "C" sticker and resin-coated muscle decals. "Good morning."

"Morning," he mutters, accepting the items with a grin. "Is this..." He sniffs the air around the tub. "No way. Is that tteokbokki?"

"Spicy, with cheese," you reply softly. "I used mozzarella and a little bit of cheddar this time. Thought we'd change it up."

"You're fucking spoiling me," he says, shaking his head, voice warm with a laugh.

You just smile again, a little shy, and step around him to slide into the passenger seat while he returns to the driver's side. As you get settled, you hand him his coffee, then cradle your own tea mug between your palms, letting the warmth bleed into your skin. The car's already warm inside, and it feels cosy now with both of you tucked in, the food balanced between you.

As you both sip and dig into the tteokbokki, the car is filled with the faint sounds of the low radio and soft breathing. It's been over two months of this now, mornings together, meals shared in the car, late afternoon pick-ups and lingering conversations. Seungmin's car has been fixed for weeks, but neither of you has brought up ending the rides. And honestly, neither of you wants to.

Between bites, Changbin glances over at you. "Hey, I've noticed something."

You hum around a bite of rice cake, glancing at him.

"You never wear jeans," he says, not accusatory, just curious. "Like, at all."

You pause. The food sits heavy in your mouth, suddenly less appetising. You chew slowly, swallow, then set your fork down gently on the napkin in your lap.

"Yeah, uh..." you start, clearing your throat. "It's the same reason I don't get the bus."

Changbin stiffens a little, eyes flicking from you to the dashboard before he leans forward and mutes the radio entirely. He shifts in his seat to face you more fully, elbow resting against the steering wheel, gaze steady and careful.

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to dig."

You shake your head, eyes on your tea. "No, it's... it's okay. You didn't know."

The silence settles between you again, thick but not hostile. Changbin doesn't say anything, doesn't try to fill the space with jokes or change the subject. He just waits.

You draw in a breath and start slowly. "I used to get the bus every day. Like, religiously. I'd catch the same one every morning, 7:10 sharp, same driver, same seats, same stops. I'd bring my headphones, my notes, sit quietly, get to campus early."

He nods slightly, giving you the space to continue.

"Then, last semester... I got on one morning, and it was packed. Like, shoulder-to-shoulder, nowhere to sit. So I stood, grabbed one of the overhead handles. There was this guy next to me, maybe late thirties, not old but older. I smiled at him, just out of habit, you know, basic politeness, and he smiled back."

Your fingers tighten slightly on the travel mug.

"At first, I thought he was just making weird faces. Twitchy, like maybe he was nervous or unwell or something. Then he started moving closer. Subtle at first. Then not. I didn't want to cause a scene, so I shifted away. But the bus was too full. I couldn't go anywhere."

Changbin's jaw clenches, eyes darkening.

"I realised..." Your voice falters, but you push through. "He was touching himself. Not like in his pocket, not subtle. Like out. And I couldn't move. He got something on my jeans, the pair I wore all the time. My favourite."

"By-" Changbin starts, voice low and horrified.

"Yeah," you say quietly, eyes still on your tea. "Yeah. I got off at the next stop and called Seungmin. He and Jisung showed up within twenty minutes. Jisung gave me his spare sweatpants, and they brought a plastic bag. Seungmin bagged the jeans like it was a crime scene."

"Because it fucking was a crime scene," Changbin says tightly, voice sharp.

You nod. "We took them to the police. Filed a report. But the CCTV on the bus wasn't working that day. Of course it wasn't. No footage, no clear witness statements, nothing. They logged the jeans into evidence, but they told me, basically, that nothing would come of it unless the guy gets caught and DNA tested for something else and it matches."

Changbin is dead silent, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

"So now my jeans are in an evidence room somewhere," you say, trying to make your voice light. "And I can't get on the bus. I tried, once. Got halfway up the steps and nearly passed out. Couldn't breathe. I started shaking so hard I had to sit down on the curb for twenty minutes. So I just... I walked. It took me almost an hour to get to campus every day. And Seungmin saw me one day, walking home in the rain, and the next morning he just showed up with his car and told me to get in."

Changbin takes a slow breath through his nose. "I'm sorry."

You glance up. "It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry," he says, voice low. "That you went through that. That no one helped. That the police did fuck-all. That that bastard's walking around free."

You nod once, blinking hard. "I just want to get on the bus again. Like... it's just a stupid bus. A metal tin on four wheels. That's all I want. To not be scared of it anymore."

He doesn't answer right away. He just leans forward and rests a hand over yours, warm and steady. "I'll drive you every day," he says. "Even if you get comfortable again. Even if Seungmin's free. Even if we graduate. I'll drive you anywhere you want to go."

You swallow, looking down at your intertwined hands. "You'd do that?"

"Fucking hell, of course I would," he says. "You don't owe anyone your story, but you told me anyway. I'm not gonna take that for granted."

You blink again, this time because your eyes are starting to sting. You nod once, then turn your hand over to squeeze his.

The morning air is brisk but pleasant as you step outside your apartment building, one hand wrapped around your travel mug, warm from the raspberry leaf tea with honey that steams gently through the lid. In your other hand is Changbin's travel mug, his usual americano, the one you brewed just right. You glance around the parking lot out of habit, expecting to see Changbin's car in its usual spot, engine already purring and music barely audible through the rolled-up windows.

But there's no car.

Instead, standing under the soft morning light near the kerb, you spot a small crowd. Your pace slows slightly, brow furrowing, but your steps don't falter. As you get closer, you see Changbin standing front and centre, dressed in a camo-print mesh top that clings to his frame like it was made for him. The olive green fabric stretches across his chest and shoulders, making every line of muscle painfully obvious, tucked neatly into black cargo pants cinched with a studded black belt. Silver chains layer around his throat, and his combat boots are planted firmly like he's daring the world to move him.

Beside him stand Jisung and Seungmin, but also five others you've never properly met before. The tallest among them has blonde hair, cheekbones sharp enough to draw blood. Another has chocolate brown strands flopping over his brow and a feline sort of smirk. One grins with bright eyes and soft freckles. Then there's the youngest-looking one, boyish but tall, black-haired and stylish in a bomber jacket, and beside him, someone with soft pink lips and wide shoulders who's dressed like he walked out of a K-drama.

Your feet pause just a few paces away as Changbin spots you, his face breaking into a grin so warm you forget, for a second, what your legs are supposed to do. You blink and offer him his travel mug, which he takes carefully with one hand, his fingers brushing yours in a way that makes your pulse stutter. You keep a firm grip on your own tea.

"Y/N," he says, voice lighter than usual. "These guys-" He gestures casually toward the group, "-are Minho, Chan, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix."

Jisung lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers at you. "Obviously you know and love me and Seungmin."

You smile, small but real, nodding toward Jisung and Seungmin before shifting your gaze to the others. "Hi."

They all give you polite, casual smiles, some nodding, some waving, but no one pushes, no one questions.

Seungmin steps forward, hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie. "We all figured," he says with a glance at Jisung, "that we'd take the bus today."

Your stomach drops. The mug in your hand suddenly feels too heavy, and your fingers tense around it. You look at Changbin, your eyes finding his before you even realise it. He's already watching you, already prepared.

He tilts his head slightly, voice low but strong. "It's just a stupid bus, right?"

Your throat tightens. You blink once, twice, and then nod, slowly, the motion feeling surreal even as you make it.

"Yeah," you say quietly. "It's just a stupid bus."

Changbin grins and extends his hand. You stare at it for half a second before placing your own in his. He takes his mug in the other hand, lifting it briefly to his lips as he begins walking. You follow beside him, sipping your tea, the warmth grounding you.

The others fall into step naturally. No one says anything about the shift in energy, the silent seriousness of the walk. Felix starts humming something under his breath. Jeongin jokes about his boots squeaking. Minho shoves Chan lightly with his elbow for some reason you don't catch. And the nine of you walk, together, to the bus stop at the end of the street.

Your dress rustles faintly with each step, sleek black fabric hugging you and shifting beneath your oversized beige blazer, the sleeves casually rolled up to your forearms. Your boots click steadily against the concrete. You wonder briefly if they're watching, if they're judging, but no one's looking at you like that. Not even a little.

When the bus turns the corner and starts to slow, you feel your legs freeze. Your body stills so completely, it's like someone pressed pause. The hiss of the brakes might as well be thunder.

Changbin's voice cuts through the swell of panic. "I'll be right by your side, okay?"

You nod, unable to speak. And then, with his hand holding yours, warm and steady, he gently leads you forward. You follow his pace, your grip tight, your tea mug rattling faintly in your other hand.

The doors hiss open, and you step on.

The others follow, filling in behind you like a tide. They crowd into the standing area around you and Changbin without a second thought, Jeongin to your right, Minho and Chan behind you, Felix and Hyunjin to your left, Jisung and Seungmin near the doors. They move as a wall, a barrier. A protection.

No one touches you. No one gets close. No one looks at you sideways. You're surrounded by warmth, by noise, by familiarity, and in a moment that might've triggered fear, you feel safe.

Hyunjin immediately starts fussing about the morning chill, muttering about how he should've brought his long coat. Felix pipes up loudly, eyes lighting up as he turns to you.

"Y/N, you know you've made the Raven Queen aesthetic hotter, right?" he says, gesturing to your hair. "Like, I'm genuinely questioning everything I thought I knew about cartoon crushes."

You smile despite yourself, just a little. "You watched it?"

"Of course," Felix beams. "Raven Queen was iconic. You're like her, but in real life. And with better boots."

Jeongin leans in. "Did you do the colour yourself?"

"She did," Jisung says proudly. "I helped with the placement and layering. I'm the unofficial glam squad."

Chan leans slightly to peek at the streaks. "It's fucking cool," he says with genuine appreciation. "Like, striking without being over the top."

Hyunjin gives a theatrical sigh. "I'd kill to have the bone structure to pull off those colours."

You feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease, just a bit. The voices are comforting, distracting. Warm. Minho leans over and starts poking at Felix for being too loud, and Felix responds by dramatically shielding himself behind you. Seungmin deadpans that if someone spills tea on him, there will be blood.

Through it all, you keep sipping your drink. And you don't let go of Changbin's hand.

By the time the bus pulls up outside Miroh College, the panic that had been clawing at your throat has dulled to a manageable hum. The doors open and the nine of you file off, laughter and chatter trailing behind.

As the others start drifting forward toward campus, Changbin lingers beside you. He's still holding your hand, now warm from your grip, and the light catches on one of the silver chains at his throat. His eyes are soft, not pushy, not demanding, just open.

He rubs his thumb gently over the back of your hand. "How would you feel about a date?" he asks, voice quiet enough to be just for you.

The words hit you like a burst of sun through clouds.

You look at him, really look at him, this man who's carried your fear without ever asking for it, who's shown up for you every single day, who waited until you were ready, who never once made you feel like a burden. You smile.

"That sounds great."

His entire face lights up. It's not the smug grin he usually wears when he wins a game or successfully roasts someone. It's pure joy, unfiltered and genuine and impossibly bright.

Behind him, all seven of the others are trying, terribly, to pretend they're not listening. Hyunjin's mid-sip of his smoothie, pretending to check the time. Felix's eyes are wide like he's watching a romance drama in real-time. Jeongin is nodding to himself. Chan's hand is suspiciously frozen just above his phone camera, like he was going to sneak a photo. Minho's smirking. Seungmin's biting his knuckle. Jisung looks like he's trying not to cry.

You snort softly and lean into Changbin's side, sipping your tea again. For the first time in what feels like forever, you're not scared of the road ahead. You're looking forward to it.

The sun has only just begun to dip low in the sky, casting a soft amber glow over the street, as you stand near the curb outside your apartment building, fingers curled around your travel mug. The tea inside is still hot, the honey soothing and familiar. Your outfit is carefully chosen but not overly fussy, a black-and-white houndstooth set, the cropped blazer trimmed with delicate gold detailing that catches the light, and a matching high-waisted mini skirt that hugs your hips perfectly. Beneath it all, you've layered a sleek black top, sheer tights hugging your legs in a glossy sheen that makes your platform Mary Janes pop. Your necklace sits just at your collarbone, a single strand of faux pearls that rests neatly above the lapel of your blazer.

Your hair is styled into a polished half-up, half-down look, parted cleanly at the crown and pulled into a high half-pony. The curled lengths tumble down your shoulders, voluminous and soft, with a few pieces left out to frame your face. The vivid magenta and purple streaks thread through the deep black like electric ink, shimmering under the streetlights as the breeze picks up. You feel both confident and strangely nervous, your free hand tugging lightly at the sleeve of your blazer every so often.

Then you hear the engine. It's low, smooth and distinct. And your heart stutters just a little.

Changbin's car pulls up beside the pavement with perfect timing, and the driver's window lowers just enough for you to see his grin. He's fully in date-mode, not even pretending to play it cool. His sleeveless open-knit top is cobalt blue, thin enough to show glimpses of the sculpted skin underneath but loose enough to look effortless. The weave of it draws attention to his broad shoulders and the dip of his collarbones, and the chunky silver chains layered around his neck glint every time he moves. His black cargo pants are slightly loose but cinched at the waist with a studded black belt, and his wrists are stacked with silver bracelets that jingle faintly when he waves at you.

You open the passenger door and slide in smoothly, the warmth of the car meeting you instantly. As you settle into the seat, you hand over his travel mug.

"Your americano," you say softly.

Changbin beams, taking it like it's the greatest gift he's ever received. "My favourite girl, my favourite drink. Starting strong."

You hide your smile behind your mug as you take a sip of your tea. Raspberry and honey, as always. 

Changbin takes a long swig from his coffee and exhales like it's saving his life. "You ready?"

You turn your head toward him, eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. "Where are we going?"

He grins, smug. "An escape room."

You brighten instantly, eyes widening. "That sounds fun!"

"Right? I figured we should do something interactive," he says, tapping his mug against yours in a gentle cheers motion. "Dinner's great and all, but I thought, let's go get stuck in a fictional crisis together. See how we handle near-death scenarios. Team bonding."

You laugh under your breath, sipping again. "Honestly, sounds better than awkward small talk over overpriced pasta."

He pulls out onto the main road, merging smoothly with traffic as you both fall into a comfortable silence. Music plays low from the speakers, something instrumental and chilled, a contrast to how loud your thoughts are getting.

"It's about thirty minutes from here," he says after a minute, eyes flicking to you briefly before focusing back on the road.

You nod, relaxing into your seat. "Okay. But you should know I'm academically smart, sure, but I can't do puzzles to save my life. Like, actually. I've rage-quit Sudoku before."

He laughs, short and loud. "Oh, oh no. That's a problem."

You lift your mug and grin at him over the rim. "You're good at puzzles, right?"

He looks at you, grimacing. "No. I'm fucking terrible. I once did an escape room with the guys and Felix figured out more shit than I did. Felix."

You gasp. "Isn't Felix scared of coat hangers?"

"Yes! And yet, he was a goddamn genius that day. Meanwhile, I was trying to solve clues that weren't clues."

You laugh again, more freely this time. "This might be a very long date."

Changbin takes a turn, his free hand drumming against the wheel. "It gets worse. I picked a place with no time limit."

Your eyes go wide. "Oh no."

"We might spend the whole fucking afternoon in there."

"Changbin."

"What?"

"We're going to die in that room."

"It'll be romantic."

You burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained, the tension of the day bleeding away like it was never there. Your hair shifts as you tilt your head back, curls brushing the shoulder of your blazer, and Changbin glances over with that fond look that makes your stomach flutter.

The door clicks shut behind you with a heavy finality, followed by the mechanical sound of locks engaging, and a distant voice over the intercom that announces, a little too cheerfully, that your escape room experience has officially begun. The lights overhead dim to a moody amber glow, and a dramatic musical chord plays through hidden speakers, meant to set the tone. Instead, you and Changbin exchange blank looks.

"So... do we just... start?" you ask, glancing around at the elaborate room designed to look like some kind of haunted study. A faux fireplace flickers in the corner, fake books line the shelves, and there's a dusty old desk with a cracked lamp on it that probably doesn't even work.

"I guess?" Changbin mutters, stepping forward and peering at the shelves like the clues might leap out at him if he squints hard enough. "I feel like I'm supposed to be solving some Indiana Jones shit, but I've got the IQ of a wet sponge right now."

You wander over to a side table and start picking up random objects, an old quill pen, a tarnished silver goblet, a rolled parchment scroll that ends up being completely blank. "This is giving absolutely nothing," you say quietly, scanning the surface for anything that might resemble a clue.

Changbin walks over to a section of the wall with framed portraits and stares at one suspiciously. "Why is this guy looking at me like he knows I can't do long division?"

You grin to yourself and pick up one of the books off the shelf. The cover is fake leather, embossed with some ominous title: Dark Secrets of Black Hollow. You flip it open, skimming a few pages. The grammar is awful, commas in the wrong place, sentences that just stop halfway, words capitalised for no reason.

"This book's written weird," you say, frowning at the jumbled paragraph. "Like, the grammar is terrible. Random punctuation and weird spacing. It reads like a drunk ghost wrote it."

Changbin glances over his shoulder, still squinting at the wall. "Probably just a misprint. Half the shit in here looks like it was pulled from a skip."

Neither of you realises that the book is clearly filled with clues, coded messages disguised as grammatical errors, misspelt words meant to be deciphered. You close it and set it back on the shelf, already moving on.

You both poke around for another fifteen minutes, opening drawers, tugging on candle sconces, checking under rugs, hoping for secret levers or at least something obvious. But nothing happens. The door remains firmly locked, the timer, while technically nonexistent, ticking away somewhere in your mind.

After a while, Changbin groans and flops dramatically into the leather armchair in the corner, legs spread, arms hanging off the sides like a tragic king. "We're gonna fucking die in here."

You sit down on the dusty edge of the desk and nod solemnly, holding a small magnifying glass in one hand and the cursed book in the other. "This is it. This is where it ends. They'll find us dehydrated next to the fake fireplace, surrounded by terrible plot twists and unsolved riddles."

He chuckles, then looks at you with a grin that slowly turns mischievous. "Okay, hear me out. Since we're gonna be here a while... how about we make out? Respectfully."

"Respectfully?"

"Always."

You eye him for a second longer before setting the magnifying glass down and slipping off the desk. You walk over slowly, lips curling into a soft grin. "Fine. Respectfully."

He barely waits a second before pulling you into his lap, strong arms wrapping around your waist with ease. You straddle him, arms curling around his neck, fingers brushing against the soft ends of his hair. The moment your lips meet his, it's like something ignites. He kisses you like he means it, like this is the part of the date he's been waiting for, like nothing else in the world could possibly matter more.

His hands tighten around your waist as he lifts you slightly, shifting you higher in his lap, mouths moving together in sync like you've done this a hundred times. Your lip gloss is ruined within minutes, smudged across both your mouths, sticky and sweet. You're not even sure what time it is anymore. You kiss until your thighs ache from sitting on him, until your hands have wandered down the line of his jaw and over the silver chain resting against his collarbone.

Eventually, after what might be an hour, though neither of you is tracking time with any accuracy, Changbin's breath is a little heavy, and your hair's slightly mussed, one of the curls from your half ponytail hanging over your shoulder in a way that screams dishevelled. You're curled into his lap still, his hand resting possessively on your thigh, your lipstick smeared and your travel mug long abandoned on the floor next to the desk.

Changbin sighs dramatically, leaning his head back against the chair. "Okay. As much as I would love to keep making out with you until the end of the universe... I think we might actually need to get out of this room."

You nod, breathless but amused. "We're really bad at this."

He pulls out his phone and squints at the screen, then taps a contact. "Only one man can save us now."

When the FaceTime call connects, Chan's face fills the screen, squinting slightly like he's just woken up from a nap. "What? What is it? What did you break?"

"Hyung," Changbin says with a tragic expression. "Help. We're trapped."

Chan rubs his face. "You're not in actual danger, right?"

"No," Changbin admits. "Just emotionally."

You lean into the frame slightly, still tucked into Changbin's lap, and wave. "Hi Chan."

Chan brightens immediately. "Hi Y/N. Is Binnie being a good date?"

You smile and nod. "He's very sweet. We just... haven't figured out anything in this escape room, and now we're calling you because you have common sense and actual working brain cells. Sorry you're third-wheeling."

Chan sighs with the kind of patience that only comes from years of dealing with people like you two. "It's fine. Let me help you escape before the poor worker monitoring the CCTV decides to gouge their eyes out watching you two kiss again."

Changbin chokes. "Wait, what?"

Chan raises an eyebrow. "You do know there are cameras in every corner of those rooms, right? It's literally a requirement."

Your hand flies to your mouth. "Oh my god."

Chan deadpans, "Both of your lips are swollen, Y/N's lip gloss is smeared, and Changbin has glitter all over his mouth. The entire staff knows what you two have been doing."

Changbin groans, slumping back in the chair. "I didn't realise I was on camera during the best moment of my life."

Chan rolls his eyes but starts asking questions about the room layout. You and Changbin hold the phone between you as you walk him through the setup, pointing the camera toward the shelves, the portraits, the stupid book with the broken grammar.

Chan stares at the book. "That's it. That's the fucking clue. Open that again."

You blink. "What? It's written like shit."

Chan laughs. "Exactly. The capital letters spell a code, and the punctuation marks a number sequence. It's not a misprint, it's the puzzle."

You stare down at the book and realise he's absolutely right. With Chan's help, you start piecing it together, finding a hidden compartment in the wall behind one of the portraits. Inside is a brass key, which unlocks a drawer in the desk, which leads to a secret switch behind the fake fireplace.

Fifteen minutes later, the room clicks open. 

You both stand in stunned silence for a second before Changbin raises his phone again. "Hyung, I love you."

Chan smiles, smug. "Now go. And for the love of everything holy, make out in Binnie's car like normal horny people. Let the poor employee have peace."

You laugh and wave. "Thanks, Chan."

As the call ends, you and Changbin walk hand-in-hand out of the room, both a little rumpled, a little high on adrenaline, and very much more into each other than either of you had planned for.

The sky's already deepening into soft hues of twilight when you and Changbin finally emerge from the escape room, slightly dishevelled, cheeks warm, and hearts pounding for reasons that have little to do with puzzles. The air outside is crisp, the kind that kisses your skin and lingers on your breath. Neither of you says anything right away. You just share a long look, the kind of look that feels like a secret you're both keeping together.

Changbin's hand slips easily into yours as you walk toward the car, the silence between you companionable. You glance over and smile as he pulls out his keys, that crooked grin of his lighting up his face when he catches you staring. There's a gentle buzz between your ribs that hasn't gone away since the first kiss in that ridiculous, dusty escape room.

By the time you've both buckled into the car and pulled out of the lot, the sky is a canvas of dark indigo, stars just beginning to emerge above the glowing skyline of Seoul. Changbin turns the music up a notch, something low and rhythmic playing through the speakers. His fingers tap against the steering wheel in time with the beat, and you rest your chin in your hand as you glance at him, stealing little moments in between traffic lights.

"Okay," he says, glancing at you. "Food. What do you want? You get to choose, but if you say salad, I'm leaving you on the side of the road."

You laugh. "How do you feel about japchae and kimchi jjigae?"

He lets out a noise of approval, smacking the steering wheel. "You really are the full package. Fuck yes."

A quick takeout run later, complete with a hefty bag of steaming noodles, broth, and a side of mandu you couldn't resist, you're winding up the quiet hills of Naksan Park. The road curves gently, lined with trees and scattered with streetlights, and when you reach the peak, he pulls the car into a quiet lookout spot overlooking the glowing sprawl of Seoul. The view is breathtaking, with the city glittering beneath you like a blanket of stars mirrored on earth.

Changbin kills the engine but leaves the radio on, the music continuing in the background. He climbs out and circles to the back door, opening it with a theatrical bow. You giggle and slide in, setting the food between you both on the seat as he joins.

The backseat is surprisingly spacious, and you both settle in easily, facing each other as you unwrap the food. Changbin takes a huge bite of mandu and groans with satisfaction.

"Holy shit," he says, around a mouthful. "Why does food taste better after kissing for an hour in public surveillance hell?"

You're laughing again, quietly, as you pick up your chopsticks. "Might be all the adrenaline."

You eat slowly, sharing bites and stories in between, legs crossed under you as you balance the container on your lap. Changbin keeps stealing bites from your portion and then insisting you try his. He drops a piece of japchae on the seat and swears like he's just been stabbed.

As the food disappears, the atmosphere shifts again. The music softens, one of those sultry R&B tracks that seems to slide under your skin without permission, and the shadows in the car deepen. You're licking a bit of broth off your lip when you glance up and see him watching you.

He leans in slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, the silver rings on his fingers cool against your cheek.

"This okay?" he murmurs, voice low and rough.

You nod once, barely breathing.

He kisses you before you can even finish the nod. This time it's slow, lazy, even. Like you've got all the time in the world. His hand cradles the back of your head as he deepens the kiss, your own fingers curling into the mesh fabric of his top, feeling the warm press of his skin beneath. Your knee knocks against his, and he shifts closer, pulling you into his lap again like it's the most natural thing in the world.

The city glows behind you, but all you can focus on is the heat of his mouth, the taste of coffee and spice, the way he sighs against your lips like he's been holding his breath all day. His hands explore gently, never crossing a line, but making it very clear that he knows exactly what he's doing.

Your hands are in his hair, your thighs locked around his hips, and the backseat fogs up fast with your shared heat and heavy breathing. You can feel your lip gloss smearing again, but you don't care. He's kissing you like you're something holy, and you're kissing him like he's the only solid thing left in the universe.

You don't know how long it goes on, time's stopped meaning anything since you got in the car, but eventually, your phone starts buzzing insistently from somewhere on the floor.

You groan into his mouth, reaching blindly for it. He's still trailing kisses down your jaw when you finally look at the screen.

"It's Jisung," you mumble, dazed.

Changbin groans, forehead dropping against your shoulder. "Fuck's sake. Ignore him."

You hit decline. It rings again.

"Persistent little shit," Changbin mutters, kissing your neck once more before you push him back gently, giggling.

"I should answer before he sends a search party."

You pick up, putting the call on speaker. "Ji?"

"WHERE IS MY BEST FRIEND, SEO CHANGBIN?" Jisung's voice shouts immediately through the speaker. "WHERE IS SHE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER, YOU HEATHEN?"

Changbin snorts, grabbing your waist tighter as you laugh. "I'm right here."

"Return her immediately," Jisung demands. "I've been patient. I've given you HOURS. But Seungmin and I need DETAILS."

Seungmin's voice cuts in faintly from the background. "Ask if she kissed him."

"I KNOW SHE DID, THEY'VE BEEN GONE FOR FIVE HOURS," Jisung shouts again. "BINNIE, STOP BEING GREEDY, SHARE."

Changbin grins, lifting his head. "We're enjoying our evening. You guys can wait."

"NO, WE CAN'T," Jisung wails. "BRING HER BACK."

You press your face into Changbin's neck to muffle your laugh, then finally say, "Okay, okay. We'll head back soon."

"You better," Seungmin says. "We've already bought snacks."

"Of course you have," Changbin mutters.

"AND IF YOU DON'T RETURN HER IN FIFTEEN MINUTES I'M TEXTING EVERYONE A PICTURE OF BABY BINNIE IN HIS DUCK ONESIE."

"You have that?"

"You'd better believe it."

The call ends with an ominous click.

You look at Changbin. "Duck onesie?"

"I swear to God, if he sends that picture, I'm deleting his entire sad boy hours playlist."

You kiss him one last time before slipping back into the front seat, laughter still bubbling out of you. The car pulls away from the overlook, the city slowly drawing closer again, but your heart still feels weightless, tucked safely into the space where his hand still rests on your thigh.

It's late afternoon when Changbin finally makes it to your apartment building, the winter air biting at the tips of his ears and the wind cutting under the hem of his distressed black knit sweater. The dramatic holes in the fabric expose slivers of his warm-toned skin, just enough to tease, and the raw texture of the knit hangs perfectly off his frame. Thick silver-toned chain necklaces drape over his chest, catching the dull light in glints as he moves. His black utility-style cargo pants hang loose around his thighs, pockets and dangling straps clinking softly against his thighs with each step, and the thick soles of his platform combat boots crunch lightly on the cracked pavement.

He stands outside your door with a matte black gift bag clutched in one hand, his thumb nervously brushing over the smooth fabric handles. The tissue paper inside peeks out in a gentle pop of royal purple. His heart thuds, not the way it usually does when he's mid-lift or scoring on the field, but in a way that feels way too soft for how hard he's trying to look today. His palms are sweating. He's sure he looks like the picture of cool, ripped-up sweater, silver jewellery, combat boots, but on the inside, he's a shaking fucking mess.

He lifts a hand and knocks twice, sharp and rhythmic, then drops it quickly before he starts overthinking the force behind it. There's a moment of muffled movement, the rustle of fabric, and then the door swings open.

You're there.

Your hair's piled into a messy bun, strands curling loose around your cheeks and neck. It always frames your face so perfectly, like it knows it's got a job to do. You're wearing a lilac lace bralette with scalloped trim, delicate and soft, paired with loose, high-waisted plaid pyjama pants in a palette of purple, white, and magenta. Over the bralette is an oversized, cream-coloured knit cardigan that slips slightly off one shoulder. You're barefoot, warm and glowing and soft, and he's not sure he remembers how to breathe for a second.

You blink at him, then grin like he's the last piece in your favourite puzzle.

"Hey," you say, voice still coated in that soft, end-of-day sweetness.

"Hey," he echoes, stepping forward. "I, uh... I got you a gift. Kind of. Sort of."

Your brow lifts slightly as you step aside and let him in, the heat of your apartment wrapping around him instantly as he kicks his boots off by the door. You tilt your head curiously, eyeing the bag in his hands.

"I went to my family home in Yongin last weekend," he says, stepping in and offering the bag to you. "Spent hours up in the attic going through old boxes. Thought I might find something cool. Ended up finding something fucking amazing."

You reach out and take the bag gently, handling it like it might be precious. Your fingers brush his as you do, and it sends a ripple down his spine. You pull out the neatly tucked purple tissue paper, folding it aside, and then you gasp.

"No way," you breathe, eyes wide.

Your fingers curl around the edge of the clear plastic box, pulling it out slowly, reverently. And there she is.

A pristine, boxed 2013 original Raven Queen doll. The one you used to beg your parents for when you were younger, the one they stopped making, the one you always talked about when the two of you got into your cartoon nostalgia rants. Her dark plum dress, high collar, feathered accents, and signature purple and black hair behind the clear front of the box, untouched, perfectly preserved in time.

You stare at it like it's the Holy Grail. "Bin. No way. This is the original release."

He grins, proud as hell, like he just won a damn award. "Yep. First edition. My sister was obsessed. She had doubles of a few. I remembered you talking about it and figured I'd check, just in case."

You blink hard and then glance up at him, overwhelmed. "You actually went through attic boxes for this?"

"Couple spiders. One rat skeleton. Totally worth it."

You laugh, bright and breathless, then look down at the box again, clutching it like it might vanish. "I can't believe you did this."

He shrugs, stepping closer, suddenly a little nervous again. "Well, the gift kinda comes with a question."

You look up at him again.

He clears his throat. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You don't hesitate, not for a single second. "Yes. Of course."

He barely has time to react before you turn around, muttering, "Hold on, I'll kiss you in a second, I need to place her properly."

He laughs, loud and warm and uncontainable, watching as you carefully carry the boxed doll over to your bookshelf. You crouch slightly and shift around your already existing shrine, figures from Winx Club, Monster High, more Ever After High, a few sparkly resin art pieces and glittering enamel pins. You take your time, adjusting the angles, clearing a spot that's perfectly central, placing the Raven Queen box like she's royalty. When she's settled, you step back with a satisfied hum.

You turn around and beam. "Okay. Now I can kiss you."

He opens his arms like an invitation, and you walk straight into them, wrapping your own around his neck as his hands settle firmly on your hips. He doesn't wait. He pulls you up against him and kisses you hard, deep, his lips capturing yours with the same intention he's carried since the first time he laid eyes on you. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his sweater, your nails catching on the rough holes, and his chains clink softly between you as he lifts you slightly off the floor.

You hum into his mouth as your feet leave the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around you, strong and sure. His grip is possessive without being overwhelming, like he's been waiting to hold you like this properly for months. The kind of hold that says I have you, and I'm never letting go.

You kiss him again, slower this time, your lips fitting perfectly over his, tasting like raspberry tea and vanilla chapstick. His chest rises and falls against yours, the knit of his sweater rough against your skin in contrast to the softness of your cardigan.

When he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, he whispers, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to ask."

You smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "You could've asked me back in the fucking escape room."

He chuckles, low and rough. "Didn't want to do it while covered in your lip gloss and being watched on CCTV."

You grin, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth again. "Well, you did good."

He grins right back, that familiar dimple showing up, his hands still resting on your waist like it's his favourite place in the world. "You're mine now."

And in that moment, barefoot in your tiny apartment, wrapped in each other and soft cardigan warmth and the quiet glow of something real, the world outside could’ve stopped spinning, and neither of you would’ve noticed.

18/06 - 5PM GMT - 18+ Patreon Post for The Science Of Falling Softly

1 Tier - MANIACS

- Access to unique works unavailable on tumblr

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General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx @velvetmoonlght @annafee_bou @mlink64 @intoanothermind @furfoxsake22 @daaaph-lol @tirena1 @yu-winchester @cristy-101 @strayk1ds143 @skzlover24 @bussdownflockiana @wickedbutlovely @bbokarismeow @Matchacha65

Proofread by the fabulous @hwangjoanna <3

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ A Boy Named Heretic 

tw: mentions of stalking and theft. Dottore in his Akademiya days, reader hinted to be from Khaenri'ah. SFW

Imagine little boy Zandik, discreetly hiding behind the columns of the Akademiy, trying to take a peek at you from afar. You’d stand among your peers, the Akademiya’s uniform embracing your constitution to further highlight your comforting poise. You are taller than the young boy, a perfect image of a senior student with just a few semesters away from graduating and becoming an official researcher. Alas, the teen felt self-conscious to approach you directly, since he was only a junior trainee Dastur. 

Imagine little boy Zandik eavesdropping on your discussion with your friends. You’d complain to your friends how one of your notebooks on Linguistic Semantics and Pragmatics was lost. You were a diligent student, and your written notes were a reflection of your hard work, so it was natural for you to feel bummed out about losing your notebook out of the blue. Zandik would persist in eavesdropping, noticing your friends providing consultative pats on your back: “Maybe you left it some other place?” or “Maybe you forgot it in the previous class?” - they’d say. Little did you know that a young trainee Dastur was hugging your notebook close to himself, not admitting to anyone that he was the one who stole it.

Imagine little boy Zandik sneaking off into the lush gardens of the Akademiya or some other miscellaneous corner of Sumeru. He’d hold your notebook protectively as if it was his newest treasure from the one he adores. He’d spend hours reading your notes, analyzing your handwriting, and smiling at the small doodles left on certain pages. Zandik’s fingers would gently trace the outline of your pages, memorizing the unique theories and thoughts you conveyed in your notebooks. His dorm room was filled with various notes or papers you randomly discarded or forgot about. Now it proudly hung, being displayed on his wall. 

Imagine little boy Zandik never telling anyone that he was the one who pocketed your negligible belongings. Yet in a couple of weeks or months, you’d mysteriously find your long-forgotten notebooks once more. There it is, in your backpack, as if you never lost it. You’d scratch your head in confusion, unaware of carnelian red eyes staring at you from across the library. Even yet, oblivious of the boy whose cold stare would turn into a longing gaze. Any books you borrowed from the library a week ago were now on his desk.

Imagine little boy Zandik being conveniently nearby when you stormed into the student affairs office, complaining to one of the supervisors how your Akademiya uniform was stolen. You’d relentlessly argue about how you definitely did not leave it somewhere randomly, only to forget it after returning from a research expedition. Thus, after a useless talk in the office, you’d sigh and slump down in the empty hallway wearing casual clothes due to your missing uniform. 

“...Excuse me, miss?” - a small voice interrupted your thoughts when a junior student approached you. He stood there for a while, hands behind his back and big round eyes gawking. 

“...Um, yeah?” - you replied with uncertainty, trying to conjure a polite smile. “How may I help you?” 

“You’re not in your Akademiya uniform. I heard a commotion from the office from which you came from…” - he spoke, although hesitantly as if looking you straight in the eyes was an act of disrespect that could shatter him. “Did you lose yours?” 

“Ah, well, about that…” - you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, was I too loud that other students heard from the hallway? My bad… Yes, I have indeed lost mine. Although I am more than certain it was stolen directly from my bag.” 

The young trainee Dastur stood in front of you, his eyes still wide and observant of your every move. He mustered a reply and said: “Don’t worry. No one heard… Only I did.” 

You stared at him awkwardly. Where did this boy come from? 

“Is this yours, miss?” - he suddenly revealed neatly folded clothes from behind his back. And wouldn’t you know, it was indeed your uniform. You hopped up in an instant. 

“Whoa-! It’s my uniform! But how, and where did you find it?” 

Imagine little boy Zandik invoking all his courage to stand still before you while biting his lips nervously as he handed you your belongings. Your immediate shift to awe and excitement upon your found uniform was a lot. You were indeed taller than him, your mere presence made him feel like a child, stammering and shifting coyly. However, he finally muttered his name to you and explained how he found some folded uniforms mysteriously left behind. 

Imagine little boy Zandik feeling relieved when you believed him, even when you noticed that the uniform was oddly warm despite being missing. And yet you still looked at him with sincere gratitude and a warm appreciation. The boy’s lips would tug into a guileful smile when you left. He’d remember your smell from the uniform. 

Imagine little boy Zandik managing to catch you every morning in the Akademiya’s hallway. He’d always approach you, so silent yet observant, but only when you weren't surrounded by your classmates and other seniors. You thought it was a coincidence that his breaks matched yours and that he’d inadvertently stay in the same remote hallways you always preferred. He was visibly reclusive when talking, but his curiosity was palpable like his gawking red eyes. He often asked you about your interests, research, classes, and frankly anything. The young trainee Dastur never got bored of hearing you ramble and rant about ancient technology or languages; instead, the boy huddled close to you, with his legs swinging gently. 

You didn’t have to know that his break schedule did not match yours. But your inconspicuous meetings became a daily routine nonetheless. 

Imagine little boy Zandik clutching onto your uniform and asking in horror: “What do you mean you’re leaving the Akademiya?!”. You informed him that although you graduated and got your thesis approved, you refused all invitations to work as a researcher or a trainee professor at the Akademiya. It wasn’t an easy decision, and you wished to withhold that information from him, but the boy was eerily observant. He saw your signed papers and coaxed an explanation from you. 

“...I’m sorry, Zandik. I have to.” - your voice filled with as you stared down at him clutching onto you. regret 

 “You can’t just leave!” - his grip on you was not firm, but it was pleading. “You are an exceptional alumni! You could become a professor in just a few years. If you wait just a little, I’ll finish my senior classes and become a junior like you, too! And- and, in just a couple of years, I’d be a student in your courses! I’ll be your best student in class, I promise!” 

The boy begged and pressed himself onto you as if you’d vanish forever. It hurt to see him like that, it hurt to say you’d leave him. You squatted down to meet his gaze.

“Zandik, it’s all right. You’re already a top A student in your class. It’s just the circumstances that are calling to me, and I’ll have to leave Sumeru. I won't be staying to work here. I’ll… have to return to my home country.” 

“You won't even stay in Sumeru…? But your theories on ancient technologies, the ruin guards, the anthropology of the Cataclysm… a-and me - you can’t just leave it all behi-'' Znadik's lips were shut with your palm, trying to keep him at bay and not cause a scene. It took a while to shush him, and you’ve never seen him in such enraged distress.

“As much as I loved my studies and research, I… do not wish to stay in the Akademiya. This institution would not be so welcoming if I were to pursue my theories. This is not the academic career I desire.” 

Imagine little boy Zandik not understanding at the time. Why would the Akademiya not be happy with your topics of interest? What’s so wrong with learning about Khaenri'ahan technology? You’re Khaenri'ahan. What’s wrong with your thesis on the origins of cataclysms throughout Teyvat? He read them, he worships them, and you determined to leave it all behind? 

Imagine little boy Zandik concealing his choked anger as he whispered “... You would leave me behind?”. He never confessed he was the one who stole your notebooks numerous times, or how he reads your papers at night with a flashlight, or how he stole your uniform to relish your scent and imagine it was you he was holding tightly. 

He could’ve held you. He could’ve done many things if you stayed. Now his last anchor in this cursed institution was gone. 

Imagine little boy Zandik glaring daggers at a classmate named Sohreh, who blurted out once: “So what if some random alumni left the Akademiya? It’s not like their research was the most unique one… students come and go, right?” 

Imagine little boy Zandik is no more. Because after 400 years, in his place stood a dangerous man, deemed a heretic and the 2nd of the Fatui Harbingers. He would achieve great scientific length, no matter how immoral and heretical they were, all thanks to the inspiration of your works when you were young. His works in creating segments were not for naught, because his influence was used for both the Fatui’s and personal gains too. Personal, as in scavenging the corners of Teyvat and Abyss to locate you. 

Imagine Dottore finding you, after almost 400 years, instead of the little boy you once knew. Because that little boy from the Akademiya never stopped imagining you being back.

➻ A small illustration of Zandik that I did for this fic is here too :)

[loki-zen]

what i feel like people on here don't get when i wind up in these arguments is that I really am seeking out LLM tools - mostly the ones my coworkers are excited about - and testing them out. And when I actually examine their output in detail* they disappoint every single time. I think I'm actually remarkably charitable about people's claims that they're getting good and useful results given the amount of times this has happened.

* "in detail" meaning that I did one or more of the following:

Genuinely considered what I would have learned from this informative-writing-shaped object if I didn't know anything about the subject (a skill honed as a creator and editor of writing designed to inform the public about complex subjects)

Checked to see if its citations went to real publications, and if so, whether they were used in a way that would lead me to conclude that the writer has actually read the thing they're citing (the best I've ever seen an AI do on this was something I'd generously call a 90% hit rate on literal, is-this-the-right-article and-does-it-contain-that-claim accuracy - however, this was a product advertised as being for summarising research articles, and every single reference it made was to something from the abstract of the article in question!)

Where the LLM task was to describe or summarise a piece of writing, actually opened that piece of writing to compare it to the summary

Checked whether the tone/structure of the output was appropriate to its context - for instance, when asked to summarise a number of specific research papers on a given topic, does it sound like it's instead giving a broad overview of the topic?

Checked whether the grammatical and semantic elements actually pair up. For instance, if it starts a sentence with "however", does the content of that sentence in some way contradict, contrast or recontextualise the contents of the previous sentence? If it says that x or y "highlights" or "further demonstrates" z - does it?

Checked its implications. If it says that "these findings suggest a need to begin incorporating considerations of X into our models of Y, in contrast to traditional Q-based models", is that a reasonable thing to say or have our models of Y actually been largely X-based for fifteen years now?

In many cases, IMO - actually read the output! Like actually read each word and each sentence, attempting to construct meaning from the sequence of characters displayed upon the screen

To me these seem incredibly basic, and yet every single time it turns out that I'm the first one to examine it in this much detail before raving to my colleagues about how great it is. I feel like I'm being gaslit.

[nabi-unveiled]

Trope Tuesday: This Requires a Neon Sign

So I had a ton of fun last week thanks to @abstractelysium and their trope tag game. I'm a big fan of focusing on the positive and the things that bring us joy. Life isn't always kind. We need to be kind to ourselves at least.

So periodically (not promising I'll do it every week), I'm going to pick a trope that I enjoy and highlight three (or more) good examples of it. I'm working to build out my BL spreadsheet with the things I personally want to track anyways so this will be a fun way for me to start those lists and think about what I really want to track.

As time is limited and my spreadsheet is in development, I won't be trying to list EVERY example myself. But feel free to reply or reblog with any examples you would use for that particular trope!

This week I'm featuring a visual trope I enjoy - "This required a neon sign."

Sometimes the sign is pretty obvious like our "Love" sign in the kitchen in Fight For You to show us that even if lies were present, love was always present too.

We have a similar sign in Semantic Error to show what Jae Yeong is really wanting from Sang Woo (and what Sang Woo really wants too). Unfortunately, there's still a barrier between them. They're not ready to take that step in their relationship just yet.

Sometimes the sign tell us about ongoing conflict within the narrative like the sign in Newton's bar in Perfect 10 Liners.

And our King of Neon Signs is Dee from Wandee Goodday who just needed guidance in how to live his life in general. He has thematically appropriate signs by his door.

In his bedroom.

And even on his balcony.

It just took him a while to internalize that last message.

Now I need to decide -> if I were to hang a neon sign in my house, what would it say? 🤔

[courtkossai]

as is , kossai already struggle with " proper " language and communication - some people see fit to complain and degrade for just this , words of kossai worth less than words of others . but this can be even worse in situations of low sleep or recent seizure - some might say erratic or nonsensical , because of struggles to string words in order . 

sometimes would try to reach out to people or make posts despite this , because ... well , want for companionship do not stop just because unwell . but then people would just ... outright laugh . oh haha , seem like monster catch up . oh haha , will just repeat message back because that is total nonsense . oh haha , will nitpick everything wrong and publicly shame , never mind actual conversation . 

just total baseless cruelty . this is why kossai object to labels like semiscribal , and to people who compliment or praise - disrespectful for others to point out and highlight , as if way of words is more important than actual message .

word salad is also something different , and people can be even crueler . occasionally will see on some popular posts or in popular tags , people who rant and rave with words would make sense to almost no one . grammatically might be just fine , but semantically extremely hard or impossible to follow as unfamiliar stranger - that is medical meaning of word salad . 

and unfortunately sometimes see people who jump in and try to provoke - " just some crazy dingbat " , so why not have some fun ? make some jokes about things that live in walls , laugh at incoherent answers to invasive questions , so on .

but that is still real individual with real life and feelings behind screen . there is no point at which apparent insanity - whether really in psychosis , or deal with entirely different things - make cruelty suddenly OK . 

struggle to understand message from someone with unfamiliar way of words ? try to understand why that person have different way of words , first . some people can fix with sleep , but many people can not fix at all . some people have caregiver or account moderator to help , but many do not . sometimes only answer which someone can give is , impossible to change words - have to get familiar with way of words , rather than hope for person to change . if that is really not possible , then at least do not turn to hostility and laughter .

@dailymanners - hope this is OK to tag . :)

[guildofpriapus]

The Guild: A Unique Subculture

The Guild is a closed society, often described as a cult, that insists on its female members dressing in leather encasements, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels. This attire is seen as a symbol of membership and unity, reinforcing the group’s values of empowerment through distinct fashion choices. However, The Guild's practices place it at odds with mainstream society, which often views such attire as provocative or unconventional. This clash highlights tensions between individual subcultures and societal norms, raising questions about autonomy, identity, and the acceptance of alternative lifestyles. The Guild's existence challenges broader societal perceptions and sparks discussions about freedom of expression versus conformity.

Fashion and Identity:

Expression: Wearing leather encasements or full-body catsuits can be a bold fashion statement, expressing individuality and confidence. It challenges conventional norms and can signify empowerment for some women.

Perception: Such attire might be perceived as provocative or edgy, potentially attracting attention and judgment. High heels, often associated with femininity and allure, can amplify these perceptions.

Stereotyping:

Women in leather attire might be stereotyped as rebellious or non-conformist. This can lead to assumptions about their character, such as being labeled as attention-seeking or lacking professionalism.

Cultural Context:

The acceptability of leather attire varies across cultures. In some contexts, it may be embraced as high fashion, while in others, it might be seen as inappropriate or overly sexualized.

Sociological Implications

Gender Dynamics:

Such attire can play into existing gender dynamics, where women are seen as subjects of the male gaze. Leather and high heels can emphasize traditional notions of femininity and sexuality, reinforcing certain gender roles.

Agency and Autonomy:

Choosing to wear leather and high heels can be an act of autonomy and self-expression. However, it also raises questions about whether these choices are freely made or influenced by societal pressures to conform to certain beauty standards.

Subculture and Identity:

Leather attire is often associated with specific subcultures (e.g., punk, BDSM). For women within these subcultures, such clothing can be a powerful marker of identity and community belonging.

Semantic Implications

Language and Connotations:

Terms like "fetish wear" or "provocative" are often linked to leather attire, carrying connotations that can influence how women are perceived and treated. These labels can either empower or diminish based on context.

Media Representation:

Media often portrays leather and high heels in a sexualized manner, shaping public perceptions and expectations. This framing can influence how women’s fashion choices are interpreted and judged.

Symbolism and Meaning:

Leather encasements, catsuits, and high heels are rich with symbolic meaning, often associated with power, sexuality, and rebellion. They communicate different messages depending on the context and the individual's intent.

In essence, wearing leather encasement, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels involves navigating complex layers of personal expression and societal influence. These choices reflect broader conversations about identity, autonomy, and the male gaze

Fashion and Identity:

Expression: Wearing leather encasements or full-body catsuits can be a bold fashion statement, expressing individuality and confidence. It challenges conventional norms and can signify empowerment for some women.

Perception: Such attire might be perceived as provocative or edgy, potentially attracting attention and judgment. High heels, often associated with femininity and allure, can amplify these perceptions.

Stereotyping:

Women in leather attire might be stereotyped as rebellious or non-conformist. This can lead to assumptions about their character, such as being labeled as attention-seeking or lacking professionalism.

Cultural Context:

The acceptability of leather attire varies across cultures. In some contexts, it may be embraced as high fashion, while in others, it might be seen as inappropriate or overly sexualized.

Sociological Implications

Gender Dynamics:

Such attire can play into existing gender dynamics, where women are seen as subjects of the male gaze. Leather and high heels can emphasize traditional notions of femininity and sexuality, reinforcing certain gender roles.

Agency and Autonomy:

Choosing to wear leather and high heels can be an act of autonomy and self-expression. However, it also raises questions about whether these choices are freely made or influenced by societal pressures to conform to certain beauty standards.

Subculture and Identity:

Leather attire is often associated with specific subcultures (e.g., punk, BDSM). For women within these subcultures, such clothing can be a powerful marker of identity and community belonging.

Semantic Implications

Language and Connotations:

Terms like "fetish wear" or "provocative" are often linked to leather attire, carrying connotations that can influence how women are perceived and treated. These labels can either empower or diminish based on context.

Media Representation:

Media often portrays leather and high heels in a sexualized manner, shaping public perceptions and expectations. This framing can influence how women’s fashion choices are interpreted and judged.

Symbolism and Meaning:

Leather encasements, catsuits, and high heels are rich with symbolic meaning, often associated with power, sexuality, and rebellion. They communicate different messages depending on the context and the individual's intent.

In essence, wearing leather encasement, full-body leather catsuits, and high heels involves navigating complex layers of personal expression and societal influence. These choices reflect broader conversations about identity, autonomy, and the male gaze.

[valentinelocks]

Jason gets Peter a motorbike for his birthday

And Peter’s so ecstatic that he momentarily forgets about everything else.

“Well I still think my gift’s better.” Dick mutters (sulks).

Tim has the courtesy to hide his snort. Artemis just outright laughs.

Black with red highlights, a shiny metallic web addition that continues over the gas tank and ending just over the fender. The bike is sleek and fucking wicked.

And he says as much, of course.

Jason, smug, tosses the keys. “So try it then.”

Peter catches them on reflex then laughs a little nervously. He puts the key into the ignition, the motor is surprisingly quiet. Discreet. Perfect for quick escape or even a casual night drive.

“I love it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “course you do. I customised it. Now stop fucking with me and get on.”

But Peter stares at him. And Jason stares back. And now they’re both at a staring stalemate when a realisation dawns on Jason and his jaw drops.

This is the conversation that follows:

Jason: You’re kidding me right?

Peter: I never had the time…

Tim: You’re old as hell dude, what do you mean no time? Wait - how do you even get around?

Peter: [winces] Well public-

Tim: PUBLIC TRANSPORT?

Artemis: In Gotham?? Are you insane? You do realise some of those bus stops are like..not real right?

Jason: I have never seen a bus before. I’ve been driving since I was 8

[ Tim mutters a sly “we can tell” but it gets drowned out by the commotion ]

Peter: I lived in Queens all my life dude never got around to it I’m sorry!!

Cue: spontaneous driving lessons in Art’s car with Backseat Driver Jason, “You’re going too fast” Dick, “He cut you off - run him over” Artemis and “the horn is my stress reliever” Tim

1. Peter, sitting nervously in the drivers seat after putting on his seatbelt

Peter: Are you sure about this Artemis? I don’t want to ruin your car.

Artemis: oh this is Wally’s. You’re fine.

Peter: Doesn’t he drive to work? What if I crash?

Artemis:. . .then he’ll walk. Duh.

2. After explaining the basic semantics

Dick: okay now turn left.

Peter: my left or your left.

Dick:. . .we have the same left?

3. A car behind them begins driving too close to them

Peter: omgod why the hell is that car is so close. What do I do?

Jason: keep driving, that loser can man up and over take us.

Artemis: Break check him.

Tim: that’s illegal-

Artemis: -and then keep reversing. See how he likes kissing my ass.

4. Peter stuck going round a round-a-bout

Peter: WHERE DO I EXIT-

Dick: LEFT LEFT TAKE THE NEXT LEFT-

Peter: WHICH LEFT IM GOING IN CIRCLES-

Jason: YOUR LEFT YOU PSYCHO-

Artemis: We need to pullover TIM’S FAINTED

Artemis: (moments later) no never mind he’s just asleep.

———

Based on scenarios I’ve concocted in my mind palace thinking of my Peter in Gotham fanfic (writing it has been treacherous and I need reprieve)

[mewvore]

Wild to see posts from people describe an awful and debilitating thing with the intent of downplaying it to highlight how much worse their own experience is and its not like "tiny splinter vs. stab wound" its like "gunshot to the foot vs gunshot to the back" like at a certain point its just semantics both instances have bullet holes right??can we discuss things without contest or do we all have to be grizzled sailors about it, in a bar yelling at each others lived experience and how that scar o yers be nothin matey I got this here from a shark that was blitzed off kelpamine and fintenyl

[fortunelowtier]

I was gonna reblog my original post but I didn't wanna spam people with a long ass post (this post is already long enough) so instead I'll just link the previous post here and if yall wanna go look at it you can, but the short version is that a few days ago I made a post talking about HBs incredibly high turnover rate, and apparently within a few days it got enough traction to where it started spreading to the higher-ups of Spindlehorse, including Viv herself. I decided to make this update post just as a way to debunk what I can and as clearly as I can. 

First tweet:

So for starters, they say this as if IMDB's numbers aren't publically available, it's not like I pulled these numbers out of my ass without merit, these are numbers I got off of IMDB. And I know some people might pull the high school English teacher card of “Anyone can edit that!!” and to be honest I dont feel like going into the semantics of one of the most non-arguments you can possibly use so all I’ll say is that the process of editing a Wikipedia or IMDB page is not as easy as your English teachers taught you to think it is. Sure you can edit it but it's another story if the edit will be saved. There's moderation, it's not a free-for-all.

Also, I find it interesting how this tweet was made (and subsequently deleted) mere days after their promotion to Animation Director, and if there's anything I've learned from Spindlehorse controversies it is that if someone is in any real position at the top of the companies proverbial food chain they shouldn't be allowed to speak for the experiences of employees lower on the ladder than them, especially when a lot of them seem to have a habit of denying certain claims despite the public availability of numerous pieces of evidence pointing toward the contrary

It's like if you visited a bunch of former employees of a restaurant with a high turnover rate with proof that they had worked there and for exactly how long they worked there and then the manager comes along and tries to basically say “NUH UH” despite information proving the contrary being publicly available (maybe not the best analogy but you get what I mean)

—

Ok now onto the second one by Viv herself:

There’s a lot to dissect here so I’m gonna break it down bit by bit.

Firstly:

"They’re listing every single credited person in EVERY art department"

So the way I got my numbers was by going to the Series Animation Department section of HB's IMDB, highlighting every name from the beginning of the section to the end, and then pasting them into this website which gave me the line count of 444. Was that the most optimal way of doing so? No, especially after I learned after the fact that there's a way to just see the numbers straight up, but that hardly matters considering the fact that there are allegedly more people in the animation dept who were uncredited, however, I'm still waiting on some more info from my source as to the validity and the scale of these claims (How many people were uncredited, how little were they paid for their work, etc etc) to make a proper post about it, so until then ill just leave it at that as to not make accusations without merit.

So, humoring Viv, I added up the total IMDB credits for the Art Dept and Visual Effects Dept, as well as the Sound Dept since I qualify sound as a form of art and because I wanted to give Viv as fair a chance as possible and actually tally the total credits of “every art department” as Viv claims I did, and it still only equals 155 total credits, a little over a third of the credits in the Animation Dept

Secondly:

“That includes the TC and Chaos credits”

So these are in reference to Toon City and Chaos Emporium, 2 companies known as a source for outsourcing animation, and just to humor Viv I decided to go onto IMDB and tally up all of the Chaos and TC credits since according to her that's where I got most of my final number.

After doing so, Chaos Emporium had a total of 15 credits, and Toon City had a total of 45

So Viv is making it seem like the TC and CE credits make up a large majority of them, which is why I got the number I did, when in reality when combined they only equal 60 credits. 14% of the total (technically it’s 13.5% but I’m rounding to the nearest whole for the sake of convenience)

Thirdly:

“We dont even have 400 people. Simply Misinformation.”

You’re right Viv, you dont have 400 people, because I never said you did, nor did I imply you did. I said you've had 400. Of course you dont have 400 current employees, your company burns through them like paper because you underpay them while you go burning your Amazon and merch money on cruises and vacations and continuously post photos of you buying from zionist companies knowing full well that they're part of an active boycott.

—

So yeah, that's my 2 cents. Sorry if this sounded like some shit you'd see on a Twitlonger but after Viv was made aware of the posts I made about the turnover rate (and subsequently blocked me within the hour after seeing it) I knew that it wasn't gonna be long before I had people DMing me about how wrong I was because “Viv said it was wrong so it must be wrong”. 

One more thing I wanna add because I've gotten a lot of angry messages/asks about this, a lot of Viv stans seem to think I have this bizarre hate boner for Viv when I really don’t. I don’t hate Viv, I hate what she’s become. I hate how ever since the HH pilot she’s become a bully who can’t take criticism. And not just on the surface level of “criticism makes her upset”, because yea no shit, criticism makes everyone upset at least a little, and it's why I hate it when people see someone being upset at criticism and going “ERMM, CANT TAKE CRITICISM?”

When I say “Viv can’t take criticism” I mean she actively tries to shut down any convo about it without trying to learn from it. She blocks anyone who talks poorly about her or her company and makes baseless claims knowing full well her fans will follow her to the ends of Hell regardless of whether or not what she’s saying is even correct.

That’s all I got for now

[cynicalrosebud]

Incorrect Quotes 10: Soap Would Totally Call Us ‘Hen’

Masterlist

Soap: Did ye buy eggs like I asked?

Y/n: Even better!

Soap: What the fuck did ye-

Y/n: *holding up a chicken* Her name is Fluffy.

Soap: I ded it! I memorized everythin' in the book! I'm gonna ace this test!

Gaz: Ok, Soap, I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1918?

Soap: 1917.

Gaz: ...You're ready, mate.

Ghost: "You look tired" well, the torment is relentless and the horrors never cease.

Price: Tell me a little about yourself.

Ghost: 'd rather not, I really like this group.

Soap: I wasnae that drunk.

Price: You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.

Soap: BECAUSE YE ARE!

Y/n: Hey, what have you two been doing?

Soap: We was helping Ghost with his wedding vows and we were kicked out his room for making it "inappropriate".

Gaz: How is “Nice ass, Price” inappropriate?

Soap: Ye deserve a reward for putting up with me.

Ghost: Y'are my reward, Johnny.

*meanwhile*

Price: You deserve a reward for putting up with me.

Gaz: True, you can be really difficult at times.

Price: What’s your greatest weakness?

Y/n: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics.

Price: Could you give an example?

Y/n: Yes, I could.

Y/n: I love murder mysteries!

Ghost, trying to impress them: I've been a suspect in four murder cases.

Price: Oh my Y/n.

Ghost: Don't you mean 'oh my god'?

Price: You worship your god, I'll worship mine, Simon.

Y/n: Man, it smells like wrongdog out here.

Gaz:

Gaz: Y/n, are you alright?

Y/n: *sobs*

Soap: I asked Y/n out.

Ghost: Oh, I’m sorry.

Soap: Why?

Ghost: Well, I assume she said no.

Soap: No, she said yes.

Ghost: Really? Then ’m sorry for her.

[frayed-at-the-seams]

My top ten bl dramas (with kissing scenes but no sex scenes)

Not in any particular order.

Sometimes I want a romance but I don’t need the sex scenes. Sometimes I just like the kissing and the plot. So here are my top ten.

- 2G ether. Season 1&2.

A adorable fake dating story with entertaining side couples and a well written plot. It is an easy watch with a comedic story line. Any problems in season 1 and any questions left unanswered are covered in season 2. The main couple have great chemistry and the side couples seem to match it well.

It is one of my favourites because it is such a chill drama to watch and rewatch. It is one I tend to go for when I’m tired or needing serotonin.

Available with English subtitles on YouTube.

- Minato Shouji coin laundry. Season 1.

A romantic comedy with a strangers to lovers trope. The plot revolves around a 17 yr old in love with a 27 yr old man. That put me off at first but the age gap is really well covered. The whole plot revolves around the age gap and how it affects them. It is both light hearted while dealing with the honest dynamic of their relationship. Both characters go through a wholesome journey of development, with Shin growing more mature and Akira learning to let himself be loved.

There is hints of a side couple but those characters go through development rather than have their relationship end romantically, which I really enjoyed.

The dialogue is very well written and the actors have really good chemistry together. Despite the age gap, it became one of my favourites in a very short amount of time. It is all so well done and they handled the dynamic wonderfully.

Though I did not like season 2 cause the writing was terrible. Still acted well but bad plot writing.

Available on Bilibili or dramacool.

- We Best Love, N1 for you & Fighting Mr second.

Ignoring the two different titles, this is season 1 and 2 of the same drama.

It is a enemies to lover dynamic in season 1 with a enemies to lovers dynamic once again in season 2.

While the plot is overly dramatic at times and cliche, it is very well acted and the actors really work with their lines and make the cliche parts fit so well. They have amazing chemistry (especially in season 2) and I love their dynamics. The side couples don’t get much screen time but they fit very well with the plot and the dynamics of the main characters.

When it comes to pure chemistry, this couple is one of my all time favourites. They speak so much with their actions. It’s a drama that will entertain throughout. I didn’t get bored at all.

Available on Bilibili and Dramacool.

- Semantic Error.

Another Enemies to lovers trope between two opposing characters. Opposites attract between a digital media student and a computing student. The plot is well paced and the actors spark off each other very well. The character development is explored well and the filming style adds such a tension and uniqueness to the scenes. One of the reasons why it is a favourite is how the filming style works with the characters and highlights their personalities. Everything just flows.

There are no side couples in this drama however the side characters are well portrayed and fully dimensional. I enjoyed how each character’s dynamics worked with those around them.

Available on Viki or Bilibili.

- Sotus The series.

A real slow burn between a new student and his head hazer. Although the hazing put me off at first the show went to explain all viewpoints really well. It explained why the Hazers continued the tradition of hazing as well as the students who were experiencing it. The relationship is a real slow burn but it’s done so well and scenes had me laughing and crying.

It includes other lgbt side characters and a straight side couple who are cute and go through their own personal growth.

An old bl (2016) but a good one. It was one of my first ones and I will never get over it.

Available on KissKH, Bilibili and YouTube.

- Takara’s Treasure.

A more recently released drama, this show was so wholesome and cute. It dealt with a character’s journey as he joins a university in Tokyo after living in a small town his whole life. His slow burn relationship with his senior is very cute and green flag.

I sort of wish that there were more kiss scenes but I did enjoy the ones we go.

Available on KissKH and Bilibili.

- Love for Love’s sake.

Another more recent drama. This one had me sobbing and giggling. For what seemed to be an intriguing plot about a boy seemingly playing out a video game where the goal is to make another boy happy turned into a really deep portrayal of depression and the loneliness of being lgbt. The romance and the relationships as they develop in this drama was all well paced and wholesome. The main character is iconic and he fights for what he wants which is great to watch. The drama itself was very well filmed. The cinematography didn’t distract too much from the plot but also made itself known and memorable. The pace was good though it could have done with maybe another episode towards the end, but with the time they had the pacing was pretty good.

This drama leads itself towards theory and not all the questions are answered but that is a good thing as an ending is provided but there is still enough to make one curious.

Available on Viki and KissKH.

- Why R U? (Korean version).

While I enjoyed the original Thai version, the Korean version out paced it for me. While the Thai one had many side couples and confusing plot lines the Korean one keeps it just to two main couples. It deletes the cheating element of the second couple and made it more wholesome rather than dramatic. The first couple actually starts as enemies to lovers and their dynamic is very funny. They fight all the time and swear at each other before slowly starting to admire and appreciate each other before falling for each other. The show was well paced and very lighthearted. The cinematography wasn’t bad but could have been more fun.

Though it’s from the same books as the Thai one, it feel almost like a completely different drama. This one had me laughing much more.

Available on KissKH and Bilibili.

- Stay With Me.

This is a Chinese drama based off a pervious BL drama called Addicted Heroin. Compared to the previous adaptation, the toxicity is taken out. Stay with me is mostly found family vibes between two step brothers, who don’t know that they’re stepbrothers for a long time, and how their relationship develops from friends to family. Whether this be family in a romantic sense between them or not, the show leaves that up to the viewer.

For a Chinese bl we do get kisses on the cheeks! Although I would like them to kiss properly. The show focuses on them growing as people and not just their relationship, which I enjoyed.

However, the show does end on a sob inducing cliffhanger and there has been no news about a season 2 yet. So watch at your peril. The show itself was well paced and very well acted.

Available on Viki and KissKH.

- Unintentional Love story.

This drama is of a young man who was wrongly fired from his job finding a reclusive ceramicist. He is told that if he can get the famous artist to sign with his old company, then he will get his job back. What follows is a slow burn romance with misunderstandings and great character development. Since the characters are all adults in their late twenties to early thirties, the show has a different feel compared to a lot of other shows where the characters are teenagers or young adults. These characters are running businesses and having to deal with issues such as money problems and loans. It’s nice to see such realistic things playing a big part in a character’s motivation. Yet they still have moments fuelled by their feelings and impulses. But they grow and learn and that’s what makes this drama really wholesome and lovely to watch.

The side couple in this is left unresolved but with a hopeful note. However there is a history between them that is not fully explained. There has been a movie based on their backstory that has come out recently, yet I do not know if it resolves their relationship in the show.

One of the things I love in this show is the costumes. As the sunshine character takes on more depth and grows as a person, his clothing colour palette gets darker. While for the grumpy character who learns to open himself up again, his palette gets lighter and by the end of the show their outfits have swapped colours. That is a detail which I loved when watching.

Available on Viki or Bilibili.

Here you go. These are my top ten dramas with no sex scenes. While some of them may have making out scenes that fade to black, they are not explicit and the drama plots focus more on the storylines or the character growth.

So for anyone who doesn’t like watching sex scenes, I recommend the dramas above.

Hope you enjoy.

Feel free to ask about anymore in the comments.