#I wonder if the writers name them then create their design or create their designs then settle on a name

[kusanagihaku]

it’s cool how jabberwock has all nature related names and how ren is no exception!!

his surname is the most interesting to me because 白波 can be translated as “white-crested waves”. pretty big waves!! and the fact that his name includes 氵too, which are water splashes. it’s ironic considering how much he hates the sea & aquatic stuff, and extra funny when you consider that his artefact is a life ring.

also, considering japanese family names can originate from either family occupations or natural features around their home, does ren’s family business have something to do with the sea / did he make his deal because something happened when he grew up around the sea? ren origin story pls

i think it’s also interesting that ren’s name 蓮 means lotus. it’s an aquatic flower that usually germinates in mud, i. e. something growing from hardship, which makes me curious to see if he rly learns anything from being in jabberwock.

it also matches up with his 五格 (name divination)! his 总格 reads that his life will be full of hard work, but things may not go his way no matter how hard he tries. he will always feel like he’s under a lot of stress. darkwick pls assign him somewhere else

on the bright side, his 外格 (6) reads that his friendships will be stable. he helps others when they need it and in return his friends will bring him even more luck and help him out wherever they can!! which is something we already see in the jabberwock chapter w him & calamari!! it also reads that although he doesn’t attract a lot of attention, he can stand up for himself. and we can see for sure with the way he resists haru LOL

also his 地格 reading (18) is SO HIM i suspect the writers might have all the characters’ divinations in front of them during character design @-@ it reads that he has a lot of dissatisfaction, and instead of working through them logically he tends to complain and doesn’t really know how to solve them hdksjsjsj?? it’s become a habit and now whenever he’s in a situation if he doesn’t complain about it it doesn’t feel right,,, which is so him,, relatable king

anyway happy ren day!!

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[silverwhittlingknife]

Good morning. I'm fairly new to batfamily comics and I was wondering if you know what the design inspirations for the nightwing black and blue suit are? Is it mentioned in the comics? I live in New Zealand and all the robins here are all black, except the south island robin which has a splash of white on its chest. To me the nightwing suit looks very reminiscent of New Zealand robins, though I'm sure that's just familiarity bias.

GOOD MORNING!!! I had no idea there were blue robins!! That is extremely cool & these birds are my friends now <333 There are (tragically) no blue robins in comics AFAIK, but the Nightwing costume design is still fun to trace...

The Nightwing Costume: A History

Nightwing I, Nightwing II, and a 1980s punk rocker.

Short version: The Nightwing black+blue+yellow costume is something Clark Kent wears in 1960s Superman comics, where the colors are inspired by Batman's costume - both in-universe and out-of-universe. So when Dick originally takes on the costume, it's an homage to both Batman and Superman. <3 The exact history gets tweaked a few times, but those basic vibes are usually consistent.

Long version: IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO HEAR SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW re:a bunch of Doylist comics history followed by the various Watsonian explanations for Dick's costume choices, I have rambled about this below the cut in three parts:

1960s and 70s: Nightwing I: Superman and Jimmy Olsen, the Dynamic Duo of Kandor!!

1980s and Onward: Nightwing II: Dick Grayson's New Teen Titans & Gen X Influences

In-Universe Explanations for Dick's Costume: A History

1960s + 70s: The DYNAMIC DUO OF KANDOR

Superman 158: The first appearance of Nightwing I!

Nightwing I - he's actually just Superman in another costume - was created for adventures in the Bottled City of Kandor! Kandor was invented in 1958 by Action Comics writer Otto Binder; it was a Kryptonian city shrunk by Braniac and kept as a trophy. Clark rescued the bottled city from him, kept it in the Fortress of Solitude, and sometimes used a shrink ray to shrink himself down to visit the city. (This was the 50s and 60s! Goofy sci-fi was in!) Kandor was a great setting for Superman stories because Clark could interact with a Kryptonian city without time travel. Plus, since Kandor had a miniature red sun, Clark could have adventures there where he didn't have powers.

In 1963, Superman writer Edmond Hamilton got the idea of having Superman and Jimmy Olson go undercover in Kandor. They have to come up with superhero disguises -- so naturally, Clark "takes a cue from his old friends Batman and Robin, and he and Jimmy Olsen become - The DYNAMIC DUO OF KANDOR!"

Nightwing and Flamebird's names got linked to newly-invented Kryptonian birds (you can see the birds in the cages behind them) - therefore paralleling Batman and Robin, inspired by Earth's bats and robins!

Readers loved Clark and Jimmy's buddy-movie adventures as Nightwing and Flamebird, and the story conceit stuck around for quite a while. If you're curious, you can read a bit more about the stories here! I like them; they're goofy but adorable.

Kandor eventually got written out in 1979, when a writer who was bored with it "fixed" the city and had Clark find a way to make all the people normal size. No more adventures for Clark and Jimmy...

This meant that the Nightwing name was up for grabs.

1980s: The NEW TEEN TITANS & Gen X Influences

In 1984 - five years after Kandor, Nightwing, and Flamebird had gotten written out of Superman comics - Marv Wolfman and George Pérez wanted to give Dick a new name and costume in Tales of the Teen Titans 44. They landed on Nightwing. It was a perfect legacy identity, representing an homage to both of Dick's role models: an identity that was used by Superman, but modeled after Batman.

Although the name stayed the same, the costume changed quite a bit! The design changes are IMO revealing both of the era in general and of some characterization choices Wolfman and Pérez were making for Dick.

Pérez - the artist, and therefore the guy who redesigned the Nightwing costume - gave a 1987 interview where he said this about Dick:

Robin/Nightwing, I like him a lot because of his history, he’s been around so long, and there’s a certain sleek sexuality about the character. He’s got a certain sense of everyman, a young swashbuckler type...

IMO you can see those elements in Pérez's design - it's got vaguely piratical/swashbuckler vibes, and my extensive research (...okay, this article on 80s fashion trends) suggests that this very silly-looking Halloween costume may indeed be riffing on edgy sex symbols of the 1980s.

And both those choices are in keeping with the vibe of New Teen Titans, an aggressively not-kid-appropriate comic that was trying to do a more mature / edgy / adult take on superheroes.

What does that mean, "more mature"? Partly, it just meant, uh, sex. Dick and Kory were actually the first DC couple to ever be implied to be having premarital sex (in NTT 28 in 1983, where they're shown in bed together); in earlier eras, this would've been forbidden by the Comic Code Authority, which banned "illicit sex," sympathetic criminals, and a bunch of other things.

But it's not just about sex. In the 80s, comic readers were getting older and more impatient with moralizing in general; wholesome role models were out and sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll were in. Wolfman and Pérez were reinventing Dick as an aged-up, angsty, angry young man who was part of a more soap opera-esque team, with characters sleeping with each other and getting jealous and getting married and fighting with each other and generally making a lot of understandable-but-edgier decisions.

The switch to the Nightwing costume, a few years in, aesthetically mirrors Dick's shift in characterization from preppy good kid to angsty rebel:

Nightwing II, or, "What would happen if you took Superman-pretending-be-Batman and stuck him in a blender with Billy Idol?"

Pérez started with the blue-and-yellow color scheme of the original Nightwing - which is just copying Batman, right down to the utility/antigravity belt. But for Dick, Pérez tweaked it to add 1980s fashion details that were Hip With The Edgy Youth, like a deep V-neck showing the chest, bling-y accents, and big flaps for the shirt collar.

(Billy Idol had become a huge success in 1983, the year before Dick became Nightwing; the punk rocker was a college dropout and fashion icon for Gen X's edgy young men ... Look, I'm not saying he's a direct inspiration for Dick's costume, I'm just saying!! Similarities, no?? The other obvious point-of-reference is 70s disco - thus the fan nickname "disco-wing" - which had been popularized by John Travolta, another celebrity dropout.)

You can see a parallel shift in Dick's relationship to education - in the 1970s, he was basically a Good Role Model And Responsible College Student at Hudson University, where AFAIK he stayed in his first semester of college for about a decade. By contrast, in 1980, the first issue of New Teen Titans kicks off with Dick having dropped out of college and having tensions with Bruce about it - not a stereotypical "good kid" choice.

Dick in New Teen Titans 1, looking... a little bit dopey, let's face it; he may be a cool & edgy college dropout now but his motorcycle kinda looks like it belongs to a middle-schooler

By NTT 34 in 1987, Dick's costume had gotten more dramatic and his motorcycle had gotten significantly cooler-looking:

Over time, the Nightwing costume got tweaked in various ways to get more sedate and to add a more birdlike V-shape to the chest, but that's the Nightwing origin story!

Okay, so that's out-of-universe. But what about IN-UNIVERSE EXPLANATIONS for Dick's costume?

WHAT A GOOD QUESTION. There are three you can choose from!

FIRST OFF, in the original 1984 story, Dick says he got the idea from a costume Clark wore - a reference to Clark and Jimmy's adventures in Kandor.

BUT THEN, in the post-Crisis reboot, the Bottled City of Kandor got deleted from continuity for a while, along with Clark and Jimmy's history of being Nightwing and Flamebird. (Crisis on Infinite Earths was a late-1980s event that merged DC's Earth-One and Earth-Two, retconned a lot of backstories, erased a lot of goofier story elements, and tried to create a more streamlined DCU. Fans usually call the comics that were published after this event "post-Crisis comics," because "thecomicsthatwerepublishedpost-CrisisonInfiniteEarths" can't be said five times fast.)

With Kandor gone, the name's origin had to be tweaked a bit. In post-Crisis, Dick still gets the name idea from Superman, but it's from a Kryptonian legend that Clark knows, as opposed to a costume Clark wore.

And then in Nightwing: Year One, a retcon/retelling midway through post-Crisis, Dixon tweaks things a bit further, so that instead of the Robin costume being an homage to the Graysons' costumes (a Wolfman retcon in LPoD), it's instead the Nightwing costume which is an homage to the Graysons' costumes, and it's deliberately modeled after something John Grayson wore.

... So in-universe, the possible explanations are basically:

Pre-Crisis: Dick got both the name and the costume design from Superman, who came up with them in order to imitate Batman, OR

Post-Crisis: Dick got the name from Superman, and Dick came up with the costume on his own - probably still deliberately imitating Batman's color choices, OR

Post-Crisis: Dick got the name from Superman and the design from John Grayson's acrobat costume.

(The post-Crisis period ended in 2011 with Flashpoint, so for a while people called post-2011 comics "post-Flashpoint," but nowadays it's usually divided into DC's branded eras: new 52, Rebirth, and Infinite Frontier. I don't think those eras have any significant retcons to Dick's costume origin, but I'm not 100% sure.)

ALL THAT SAID, I love the idea of "it's Robin, but blue," so thank you; that's adorable and it's gonna live in my heart forever now <333

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Seven: Resolve

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 12.1k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Seonghwa invites you to the serene local park where he delivers the exciting news that you’ve secured the modeling job, marking a significant step forward in your new life in Paris. However, as you bask in the joy of this achievement, a nagging concern about Hongjoong’s sketchbook lingers in your mind. By the time you get your first modeling gig, you form a plan to return it to him on the very same day, but the uncertainty of how he will react keeps you on edge. Could things possibly get any worse than they already are?

a/n: so sorry for the long wait (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) i’ve been going through a major writer’s block lately (and i’m also really busy with my studies) but luckily i managed to finish this chapter before completely losing motivation again 😅 i’d love to have some feedback! <3

tags: @beabatiny

You were busy preparing breakfast for yourself—this time choosing to make an actual meal. You had finally caved in and decided to take a little portion from your savings instead of just settling for a pack of ramen. You decided you didn’t want to jeopardize your health with your terrible dietary choices. The aroma of sizzling eggs and freshly toasted bread filled the small kitchen, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

In the background, the record player your mother had insisted you take with you to Paris was spinning an old vinyl you had secretly taken from your father back in Arcadia Bay. The familiar, nostalgic notes of “La Vie En Rose” filled the room, and you couldn’t help but hum softly to the melody, feeling a bittersweet connection to home. While your hometown wasn’t exactly filled with memories as lighthearted as a rainbow after a thunderstorm, there was a little portion of them that you deemed heartwarming enough to remember—such as this.

Just as you were about to turn off the stove, your phone rang, cutting through the serene atmosphere. You frowned slightly, wondering who could be calling you this early. Wiping your hands on a towel, you picked up the phone and saw your mother’s name flashing on the screen. A sense of unease crept up your spine as you answered. “Mom? Is everything okay?” you asked, feeling a somewhat strange vibe in the air.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted you, but there was a noticeable heaviness in her tone that immediately set off alarm bells in your mind. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I really need to talk to you.”

You quickly turned off the stove and paused the record player, giving her your full attention. Whenever those exact words came out of her mouth, it never meant anything positive, which was precisely why you were now standing near the edge. “What’s going on, Mom? You sound upset.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I... we're having a really hard time sustaining our financial needs. The café... it’s just not doing well. We’re getting fewer and fewer customers every day, and we’re really worried.”

Your heart sank. You knew how much the café meant to them, how hard they had worked to build it from the ground up. Years ago, when they decided you were grown enough to be able to take care of yourself, they flew to a different city, hoping to find a glimmer of hope amidst all the struggles you and your family have and still are going through. That glimmer of hope in question was deciding to open up their own small business.

“Mom… I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there something I can do to help? Anything, really,” you asked, desperation evident in your voice.

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know, dear. We’re trying everything we can, but we’re really scared it might take even longer to repay our debts.”

The mention of their debts made you feel a pang of guilt, especially knowing the major turning point in your life from years ago was the cause of it all. You knew they had taken on a lot to support you and your dreams, and now it felt like you were only adding to their burden. “This is all my fault… I’m so sorry. If I get the modeling job, I promise I’ll work so hard and earn so much that you and Dad will never have to worry again. You’ve already done so much for me. Let me repay you.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a burden, and none of this is your fault,” she reassured you, her voice softening. “We’re proud of you, and we want you to succeed. Don’t think like that.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you choked out, “I just hate that you’re struggling because of me. Please, try not to stress too much. I’m going to make it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I know you will, darling,” she said, trying to sound optimistic. “But remember, we’re always here for you, no matter what. We love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. Please take care of yourselves. I’ll call you soon,” you promised, your voice as quiet as the whisper of a passing breeze.

After saying goodbye, you ended the call and stood there, your phone still clutched tightly in your hand. The weight of her words embraced you heavily, making it hard to breathe. Slowly, you sank to the floor, your knees giving out as the tears you had been holding back finally fell.

You sat there, crying quietly, the phone pressed against your chest as you whispered to yourself, “This is all my fault.” The reality of your parents’ struggles and the pressure to succeed was a heavy weight to bear, leaving you feeling utterly helpless.

You had always felt like a burden, despite your parents’ constant reassurances that you weren’t. No matter how often they told you they were proud of you, that you were their greatest joy, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that you were the source of their struggles.

The thought that haunted you the most was the memory of that one terrible day when everything seemed to spiral out of control. If only things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong. If only the world had been a little kinder to your parents, maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation. Sometimes, in your darkest moments, you wondered if things would have been easier for them if you had never been born. These thoughts had followed you around for years, like a shadow you could never fully escape.

You thought you had left those feelings behind when you moved to Paris. For a month, you managed to keep those dark thoughts at bay, throwing yourself into your new life with a determination to succeed. But now, with the reminder of your parents’ struggles, the harsh reality came crawling back to bite you, and it stung.

You were as fragile as a piece of glass, easily shattered by the weight of your guilt and the pressure to make things right. The façade of strength you had built up over the years crumbled away, revealing the vulnerable, scared person beneath. Maybe you were never as strong as you had made yourself out to be after all.

While you sat there on the cold floor, clutching your phone and sobbing, you felt utterly alone and helpless. The weight of your parents’ sacrifices and the fear of letting them down was almost too much to bear. You wanted so desperately to make things better for them, to prove that their efforts and love weren’t in vain. But in this moment, all you could feel was the crushing weight of your own inadequacy. The dreams and aspirations that had once filled you with hope now seemed like distant, unattainable goals.

A message notification from your phone suddenly emerged, breaking the loud silence of your broken sobs. It was from Seonghwa.

Are you free later in the afternoon?

4PM, specifically.

Quickly wiping your tears, you typed out a reply, telling him that you were indeed free. His response was swift.

Alright, meet me at the park by then. I have something important to tell you.

Your heart dropped even more, worrying that maybe it was some sort of terrible news. But you just told him you’d make sure to be there on time.

Standing up, you wiped the remaining tears using the sleeve of your sweater. You put the record back on to distract yourself from your thoughts, humming to the melody once more as a way of pretending that things were as normal as they could be, as if the phone call with your mother hadn’t occurred at all. The familiar tune of “La Vie En Rose” filled the room, providing a temporary distraction to your troubled mind as you went back to preparing your breakfast.

Hours later, you found yourself walking around the park, searching for Seonghwa. Just as you took your phone out to ask where he was, you received a cryptic text message from him.

I see you.

This made you raise an eyebrow in amusement and maybe a little fear. You remembered how a few of your work colleagues from Arcadia Bay used to do this to you all the time when they invited you to hang out. Maybe not all memories from your hometown were horrible, after all.

After looking around once more, you spotted him sitting on a bench on the other side of the park, holding two cups of coffee in one hand while the other waved to you, a smile on his face. You hurriedly made your way over and greeted him, taking the offered cup of coffee and thanking him. “Thank you for this, Seonghwa,” you said, sitting down beside him. The warmth of the coffee seeped through the cup, comforting you slightly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his smile lingering but a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

Curiosity gnawed at you, and you finally asked, “So, why did you ask me to come here so suddenly?” There was a slight shift in his demeanor as he turned a little more serious. This always seemed to happen whenever he needed to talk about work matters. Noticing this, you straightened up in your seat, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, setting his coffee down on the bench. “I wanted to talk to you about the agency, the callback, and the process of choosing which aspiring models deserve the spot they’re aiming for. It’s a rigorous process, as you know. The panel looks at various factors: potential, adaptability, and how well a person can embody the vision we have for our projects.”

You nodded, your hands clutching your coffee cup tighter. “Yes, I understand,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, as if you weren’t nearly losing your mind.

He continued, “The decision isn’t just about how you look in the photographs or how you perform in front of the camera. It’s about your story, your passion, and your determination. It’s about how well you can represent the brand and connect with the audience.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears. “So… did I… did I make it?” you asked, almost whispering.

Seonghwa paused for a moment, letting the tension build. Then, a smile broke out on his face. “Yes,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride. “You got in. You got the job.”

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Relief, disbelief, and overwhelming joy mingled together, making you feel lightheaded. “I… What? I can’t believe it,” you stammered, tears welling up in your eyes again, but this time, joy was the cause behind it.

Seonghwa reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Believe it,” he said softly. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and it’s finally paying off. We all saw something special in you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “Thank you, Seonghwa. Thank you for believing in me… for seeing something in me. I won’t let you down.”

He nodded, his eyes full of sincerity. “I know you won’t. This is just the beginning for you. There’s so much more ahead, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll achieve.”

The realization began to sink in, and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh, the sound of disbelief and happiness mixing together. “This feels like a dream,” you confessed, wiping away the tears that kept streaming down your face. “Just hours ago, I was breaking down, thinking about how I might never get this opportunity. And now… now, I have it.”

Seonghwa smiled warmly, his expression softening. “I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you deserve this. You’ve shown so much potential and passion. We all believe in you, and I’m so happy to have you on board.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief engulf you in a warm embrace, much like the setting sun. “I don’t even know how to express how grateful I am,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “This means everything to me. I promise I’ll give it my all, every single day.”

Seonghwa’s smile widened, his eyes twinkling with pride. “I have no doubt about that. You’re going to do amazing things. This is just the start of a wonderful journey.”

You felt a rush of gratitude, your heart swelling with warmth. “I can’t thank you enough, Seonghwa. For everything. For believing in me, for giving me this chance. It feels like a dream come true.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Well, consider it a reality now. You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I think this is just the beginning of something truly amazing for you. You’ve got the talent, the drive, and the heart. That’s a powerful combination.”

You smiled, feeling a newfound sense of confidence. “Thank you, Seonghwa. Your words mean a lot to me. I'm going to work hard and make you proud.”

“I have no doubt about that,” he replied warmly. “And don't forget to enjoy the journey. It's going to be hectic, but it’s an incredible ride all the same.”

With a final, heartfelt thank you, you both stood up from the bench. Seonghwa gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “How about we go on a walk? You know, a small way to celebrate this moment,” he said with a grin. “You deserve it.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “I think I could use a little celebration,” you admitted.

As you both continued to walk around the park, sipping on your half-empty coffee cups, Seonghwa began to delve into the upcoming autumn fashion week. “So, autumn fashion week is a massive event for us,” he started, excitement evident in his voice. “It’s where we’ll be showcasing all the new collections for the season. Hongjoong has been working tirelessly on this for months.”

You listened intently, eager to hear every detail. Seonghwa continued, “The theme this year is ‘Enchantment of Dreams.’ Hongjoong wanted to capture the delicate beauty of autumn, but with a twist. Think of flowing fabrics, soft, muted colors, and a mix of natural elements with a bit of fantasy. It’s all about creating a dreamy, almost otherworldly atmosphere.”

He paused to let the theme sink in before moving on. “The types of designs we’re aiming for include long, flowing gowns made from light, airy fabrics like chiffon and silk. There are also more structured pieces that incorporate natural textures like leaves and flowers. Some of the designs even have intricate beadwork and embroidery that give them a mystical feel. Like they’re made for forest fairies, you know.”

You could picture the collection in your mind, a blend of nature and fantasy coming to life on the runway. “That sounds so beautiful,” you whispered, nearly to yourself, genuinely impressed.

Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “It really is. Hongjoong has such a clear vision for what he wants to present. He’s been sketching and refining these designs for months. Each piece is a work of art.”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, “How’s the process going so far?”

Seonghwa let out a sigh. “Well, aside from successfully recruiting models that are suitable for the event’s theme, we’re stuck in a bit of a predicament.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What kind of predicament, exactly?”

Seonghwa’s expression turned more serious. “All of Hongjoong’s designs for fashion week were in his sketchbook, but the thing is, it’s missing. He still hasn’t found it.”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Not only did the sketchbook belong to Hongjoong, but now you were also finding out that all his designs for autumn fashion week were drafted in there? Your steps faltered, and you nearly stopped in your tracks, eyes wide with shock.

I have to return it to him. No, I definitely need to return it to him. I can’t let myself be further consumed by my fears when the consequences waiting ahead are far worse than losing my job. Keeping something of such immense value is not an option. There will be a huge price to pay, but it’s nothing compared to the damage that could be done if Hongjoong doesn’t get his sketchbook back in time for fashion week.

Seonghwa noticed your sudden silence and the far-off look in your eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You snapped back to reality, giving him a reassuring nod. “Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

Seonghwa seemed to accept your explanation and didn’t pry any further. “It’s understandable. There’s a lot to process,” he said kindly.

Trying to steer the conversation back, you asked, “How is Hongjoong holding up with the sketchbook missing? He must be really stressed.”

Seonghwa sighed again. “He’s definitely not in the best place right now. Losing that sketchbook was a huge blow. He’s been frantically trying to recreate the designs from memory, but it’s not the same. That sketchbook held his original inspirations and ideas.”

You could only imagine the pressure Hongjoong must be under. “That sounds incredibly tough. I hope he finds it soon.” I hope I can return it to him soon.

Seonghwa nodded. “We all do. Everyone’s been looking for it, hoping it will turn up before it's too late.”

As the conversation continued, you felt a growing sense of urgency. You knew what you had to do. Returning the sketchbook wasn’t just about doing the right thing—it was about helping someone in a desperate situation. The weight of that responsibility was heavy, but it also gave you a sense of clarity and purpose. You walked with Seonghwa a bit longer, discussing lighter topics and enjoying each other’s company. But in the back of your mind, the decision was made. You had to find a way to return the sketchbook to Hongjoong before it’s too late.

—

The Fashion Week was still quite a long road away, but Seonghwa insisted you should get your first exposure to the fashion world in advance. This way, you’d gain valuable experience and not feel too pressured by the time fashion week arrived. Today, you were set to do a photoshoot featuring Hongjoong’s recent collection released earlier this year. The collection’s theme was ‘The Beauty of Time,’ a blend of vintage charm and modern sophistication. It featured outfits with intricate lace details, flowing silk skirts, and structured blazers in rich jewel tones. The setting was an old Parisian mansion, with grand staircases and opulent chandeliers, perfectly matching the collection’s vibe.

You also had a mission to return the sketchbook to Hongjoong today—before your fear could fully consume you and let the day pass by as a heavy failure. You just had to find a way.

Now, you were at the photoshoot venue, being prepped by one of the stylists. She seemed a few years older than you, with a kind demeanor that put you at ease. As she worked on your hair and makeup, you two indulged in small talk. “Have you ever done something like this before?” she asked, her eyes reflecting genuine curiosity.

You softly shook your head. “No, this is an entirely foreign world to me.”

She seemed genuinely shocked. “Really? That’s hard to believe because you have the perfect features for a model. We’re lucky Seonghwa found you before any other agency did. Are you from around here?”

You smiled at her compliment, feeling a bit more at ease. “Thank you. And, no, I’m actually from a small town, not from Paris.”

“Ah, that explains it,” she said with a knowing nod. “Small towns tend to have restricted opportunities. Perhaps that’s why your well-deserved exposure is long overdue.” You nodded in agreement, appreciating her understanding. It was true, in a way. If Arcadia Bay wasn’t as small as it was, you probably never would’ve considered flying to Paris. Unfortunately, reality has a twisted knack for imposing challenges even when you’re not up for it.

After she finished styling you, she complimented your look and wished you luck. Just as she left the room, Seonghwa walked in, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Wow, you look elegant.”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. You weren’t used to receiving compliments, much more being called elegant. “Thank you. The stylist was really nice.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? She isn’t usually talkative around models. She must’ve taken a liking to you.”

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more confident. “Well, I’m glad. She made me feel comfortable.”

Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased. “Good to hear. Now, let’s get you to the photoshoot.” You nodded, taking a deep breath as you followed him. You wore a stunning outfit from Hongjoong’s collection: a flowing, floor-length silk dress in a rich sapphire blue, with eye-catching lace details along the neckline and sleeves. The dress had a vintage yet modern feel, and it felt perfect for the theme.

The photoshoot began in earnest, with Wooyoung directing each shot. “Alright, let’s start with some classic poses by the grand staircase. Think regal, timeless elegance.”

You positioned yourself as instructed, feeling the weight of the dress and the grandeur of the setting. Each click of the camera seemed to bring a new wave of confidence.

“Beautiful,” Wooyoung praised, adjusting the lighting. “Now, let’s move to the balcony. I want you to look out as if you’re lost in thought, dreaming of something wonderful. Kinda like if you were Cinderella daydreaming about her Prince Charming.”

The example he set was… unexpected, to say the least, but much to your surprise, it actually did its wonders and helped you immerse yourself in the theme. You followed his guidance, leaning slightly against the ornate railing and gazing out over the mansion’s lush gardens. The soft afternoon light cast a golden glow over everything, enhancing the ethereal quality of the shoot.

Hours passed as you moved from one location to another within the mansion, each scene more breathtaking than the last. You posed by antique mirrors, draped yourself elegantly on velvet sofas, and even walked through a hallway lined with vintage portraits.

Finally, the photoshoot came to an end. Wooyoung clapped his hands together, beaming. “That’s a wrap! You did an amazing job.”

You smiled, feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. “Thank you. It was a wonderful experience.”

Seonghwa approached you, looking pleased. “You were fantastic. I’m really proud of you.” Just as you were about to respond, you saw Hongjoong entering the venue. Panic surged through you, and you quickly turned away, leaving behind a confused Seonghwa and heading straight for Wooyoung, who was busy checking his shots.

“Sorry to bother you, but is there a restroom around here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

He looked up in surprise, eventually nodding as he pointed towards a hallway. “Yep. Just down there, to the left.”

You quickly made your way towards the restroom, heart pounding. Once inside, you leaned your back against the wall, a hand on your chest as you sighed in relief. You didn’t know why you were so scared of crossing paths with Hongjoong. Maybe it was the guilt of not immediately returning his sketchbook to him the moment he introduced himself to you. Perhaps it was simply because you’ve always been a coward, just like when you were young.

Taking a moment to steady yourself, you walked towards the mirror to fix your appearance and wash your hands. Just as your hand held the doorknob to leave, you overheard two familiar voices coming from a corner nearby—Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You paused, listening intently.

Hongjoong let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples. “While I’m glad things seem to be turning out well for her, I still can’t shake off the thought of permanently losing my sketchbook. We already have the perfect model for the collection, but this predicament outweighs the greener side of the grass.”

Seonghwa tried to reassure him. “Maybe it’ll come by when you least expect it.” But even he sounded doubtful. Comforting Hongjoong through blatant lies was just as bad as adding fuel to the fire. Their voices grew more inaudible with each second until you could no longer hear them. Maybe they went back to the venue’s main hall.

You bit the inside of your cheek, making a mental note to ask Seonghwa for Hongjoong’s number before it was time to head back home. You couldn’t keep something with such a huge value in your hands much longer.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you emerged from the restroom, walking back to the main hall while nervously fiddling with your fingers. You spotted Seonghwa sitting by the staircase next to Wooyoung, and as soon as he saw you, his face lit up.

He walked towards you with a welcoming smile. “Why’d you run off so suddenly earlier?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

You waved him off, hoping he wouldn’t pry further. “I just needed to go to the restroom,” you said, keeping your tone as casual as possible. Fortunately, he didn’t push for more details.

“Well, Hongjoong stopped by for a bit and left just a few seconds before you got back,” Seonghwa informed you, his eyes scanning your face for a reaction.

You tried to act as if you weren’t already aware—as if Hongjoong wasn’t literally the reason you ran towards the restroom. You forced a nod, your expression neutral. “Oh? Did he say why he was here?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “He was actually looking for you, but something urgent came up, so he had to leave early.”

Thank God for that, you thought, your relief barely concealed. You nodded again, a desperate attempt to act casual, subtly biting the inside of your cheek. “Did he mention why he was looking for me?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “He didn’t get a chance to tell me. But don’t worry, he’ll most likely elaborate further once he’s done with whatever urgent business he’s handling.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, though your mind was still racing. At least you had a chance to return the sketchbook before the day was over. But what if that’s exactly why he was looking for you? No, no, that couldn’t be the case. You had to quit stressing yourself out.

Suddenly, you remembered your mental note to ask for Hongjoong’s number. You glanced at Seonghwa, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seonghwa, could I get Hongjoong’s number? I might need to discuss something with him... you know, business matters.”

Seonghwa smiled, not seeming to be suspicious. “Oh, sure thing. Give me a moment.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts before finding Hongjoong’s number and sharing it with you.

“Thank you,” you said, grateful that he didn’t ask further questions. Being a model on the fresh start of her journey needing to message the creative director of the brand she’s under was perfectly plausible.

With Hongjoong’s number saved in your phone, you felt a mixture of anxiety and determination. You couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, but you also couldn’t let fear control your actions. Now, you just need to find the right moment to return the sketchbook and hopefully clear the air.

Hours had passed, and the photoshoot concluded perfectly. Before you left the venue, Wooyoung approached you with a smile. “I might take about a short while to edit the shots I’ve taken. I’ll make sure you’re the first to see them, just in case there are a few photos you wouldn’t like to be published,” he said, catching you by surprise.

You nodded, genuinely touched. “Thank you, Wooyoung. I appreciate that.”

He grinned, his eyes turning into small crescents. “No problem. It’s important that you’re comfortable with everything.”

As you left, you reflected on how considerate everyone had been. It shattered your preconceived notions about the fashion industry. Prejudices can indeed be harmful, you mused.

Now, you found yourself at the park once more, nervously shaking your legs as the tips of your fingers hovered over the letters on your phone’s keyboard. You deeply contemplated what message to send Hongjoong. Every possible phrase ran through your mind, each one feeling inadequate or too forward. How were you going to construct a message asking him to come to the park because you had something important to talk about?

After what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on a message you deemed sufficient:

Hi, Hongjoong. Sorry for the late notice, but I was hoping we could meet at the park for a moment. There’s something important I need to discuss with you. Let me know if you’re available. Thank you.

For a moment, you could only stare at the send button, which seemed to glare back at you with an almost mocking intensity. Letting out a sigh, you closed your eyes shut the exact moment you hit the button, trying so hard to keep yourself calm. Okay, maybe you were being quite dramatic right now, but you’ve always had a thing for being an overthinker—so what’s the surprise now?

It took a couple of minutes until your phone buzzed with Hongjoong’s response.

I’ll be on my way in a bit.

You sent a quick message back, ensuring he knew you’d be patiently waiting. Then, deciding to avoid making yourself more nervous, you turned off your phone. Your eyes drifted to the sketchbook inside your bag, a contemplative gaze settling on your face.

Your mind began to spiral into a torrent of overthinking. What if this doesn’t go the way you’re hoping it will? What if this makes things awkward between you two? The sketchbook held his designs for Autumn Fashion Week. Losing it must have caused him immense stress. Would he even be able to trust you again after this? What if the consequences were more severe than you anticipated? Each scenario played out in vivid detail, heightening your anxiety with every passing second. Most of all, you worried about Hongjoong’s reaction. Would he be disappointed? Understanding? Furious?

As you sat there, these thoughts swirling uncontrollably, you began to realize just how significant this moment was. The weight of the sketchbook in your bag felt heavier with each passing minute, a tangible reminder of the impact your actions could have.

Just as your thoughts were about to spiral deeper into a vortex of anxiety, a familiar voice softly called your name from behind. You turned around sharply, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. There stood Hongjoong, his expression warm and slightly curious.

You immediately stood up from the bench, awkwardly fumbling with your hands, struggling to find the right way to greet him. At that moment, you realized how foolish your plan was. Here was the creative director of the brand you were now modeling for, and you had asked him to meet you at a local park? The idea seemed incredibly disrespectful in hindsight, and you cringed inwardly at your own lack of foresight.

Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. His eyes softened, and as if he could read your mind, he laughed gently, attempting to put you at ease. “It’s all good,” he reassured you, his tone kind and understanding.

“I’m so sorry for asking you to come here at such an unexpected hour,” you apologized, your voice tinged with genuine regret and bashfulness. Truthfully, all you could wish for right now was for a lightning to magically strike exactly where you were currently standing. It would hurt less than having to endure the embarrassment you were currently facing.

“It’s alright, really,” he said, waving off your concern with a nonchalant gesture. “How about we take a seat, and you can tell me what you called me here for?”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest. You sat back down on the bench, scooting to the side to give him ample space. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves, your fingers trembling slightly as you clasped them together.

“So,” Hongjoong began, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s on your mind?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your words came out in a jumbled mess. “Well, you see, it’s just... I mean, I wanted to... there’s something important I...”

Hongjoong listened intently, his expression patient but slightly puzzled. He waited for you to continue, giving you the space you needed to gather your thoughts. He could tell you were avoiding the main topic, and his curiosity was piqued. After a moment of watching you struggle, he gently cut in, his voice soft and encouraging. “It’s okay. Just cut to the chase.”

You pursed your lips, feeling the anxiety tighten like a vice around your chest. With a shaky hand, you reached into your bag and pulled out the sketchbook, shoving it into his arms. Immediately, you stood up, your first instinct to run away. But Hongjoong quickly stood up too, catching your wrist in a gentle but firm grip and turning you back towards him.

The look in his eyes was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. Under his steady gaze, you felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over you. You began to ramble, the words spilling out uncontrollably.

“Look, I’m so, so sorry—I really didn’t want to keep it for so long, I just couldn’t find a way to return it to you because I was so scared my career would be jeopardized before it even started. I was afraid you’d be upset, and that’s completely valid because if I were you, I would be chasing myself around with a knife right now, and...”

Hongjoong let go of your wrist and laughed, a sound so unexpected that it made you fall silent. The tears that had been threatening to fall halted themselves, leaving you feeling both confused and relieved.

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. “... Why are you laughing?”

He smiled, still chuckling softly. “Upset? Not once was I ever upset the day I found out you had my sketchbook because I knew it was in good hands.”

This statement only deepened your confusion. “Huh? Sorry, what do you mean by that?”

He shifted lightly. “Do you remember the first casting audition you attended?” he asked, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. You nodded wordlessly, your mind racing to recall the details. “I knew my sketchbook was in your hands the moment I saw what you were wearing,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact.

Then it hit you. The dress you had worn that day was inspired by one of his designs, a subtle homage to his work. “Is… is that why you approached me in the waiting room that day?” you asked, realization dawning on you.

“Yes, but I also wanted to see how you would react to me introducing myself,” he admitted, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I had a hunch you had no idea I was the owner of the sketchbook.”

You felt dumbfounded, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. “You knew all along? Why didn’t you confront me about it?”

He shrugged comfortably, his demeanor relaxed. “I knew I could trust you to return it eventually.” He looked down at the sketchbook now back in his hands, his expression one of satisfaction. “And I guess I was right, after all.”

“So… what’s going to happen to me now?” you asked, your voice small and uncertain, the weight of your fears hanging heavy right above your head, the rope holding it up a second close to snapping.

“What do you mean?” he replied, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“Aren’t I going to get in trouble? It’s what I deserve, you know. Seonghwa told me about how much stress you’ve been having to endure because of your missing sketchbook.”

He waved you off, shaking his head with a reassuring smile. “You only would’ve gotten in trouble if you had chosen to leak my designs or didn’t come forward like you did now.”

There was a short pause as he reached into his shoulder bag. When you saw a tiny peek of what it was, your eyes immediately widened.

“So, now that that’s out of the way, I’m guessing this is yours, then?” he said, raising the object high enough for you to see.

Your journal.

You could only look at it in complete, utter shock, your eyes wide with surprise. He had your journal all along, too? But how come he had it with him now, at this very specific moment? Did he already know beforehand that you were the owner of it, too?

“How did you... how’d you know that belongs to me?” you asked, still dumbfoundedly staring at it as it remained in his hands.

He shrugged with a knowing smile. “Call it a hunch.”

You took it from his grasp, flipping through the pages just to make sure it was actually your journal. It was. “No, seriously, how did you know...?”

He paused, then admitted, “Well, may have read a single page. What I read was an entry about wanting to move to a new country to restart your life and turn over a new leaf. I remembered that the moment you told your story about your past to the casting directors during the auditions, and that’s when I put two and two together. I was just waiting for the right time to return it to you.”

“The right time as in the time I’d finally decide to return your sketchbook?”

“Precisely,” he responded, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“So you knew my intention behind asking you to meet up tonight?” you asked, a mix of amazement and embarrassment flooding through you.

“I did. Call it a hunch—for real this time.”

You looked up at him, trying to process everything. “So... where do we go from here?”

He tilted his head slightly, a curious expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?”

You fiddled with the hem of the sweater you were wearing, not really sure how this night was meant to be concluded—another thing you forgot to consider, thanks to your constant overthinking. “You have your sketchbook, and I have my journal... I suppose we should call this a day, then?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re still tense, aren’t you?”

You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders that you had been trying to ignore. “I can’t help it.”

Hongjoong tried to lighten the mood with a playful tone. “You better be, because who knows if I might switch up on you last minute or not.”

But his attempt at humor backfired. You immediately began to worry, your words coming out in a frantic scurry. “Please don’t! I mean, I really didn’t mean to keep it for so long. I was just scared, and...”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” he quickly interjected, his smile turning sheepish. “That was probably not a good joke... Sorry about that.” Hongjoong then spoke up again, his tone more sincere. “Let’s see… Why don’t we stop by the cafe where this all started? Just to get your mind off your persisting worries?”

You hesitated, trying to turn his offer down. “Oh, I don’t want to take up more of your time than I already did. You’re probably busy...”

He shook his head, his expression earnest. “That’s not the case at all. I don’t mind. Really, I insist.” Seeing the genuine look in his eyes, you finally nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you caved in.

As you both started walking, you felt some of the tension begin to ease. The sketchbook and journal were back with their rightful owners, and despite the initial awkwardness, the evening was starting to take a more positive turn. The park was quiet, the air filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of city life, creating a calming backdrop for your walk to the cafe.

Hongjoong led the way, his steps confident yet relaxed. “You know,” he began, glancing at you, “I’ve always believed that the right things find their way back to you at the right time. Looks like today was one of those days.”

You nodded, reflecting on his words. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

You and Hongjoong eventually approached the cafe, the warm, inviting light spilling out onto the street through the large windows. The bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, and a comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air. The interior was cozy, with a few patrons scattered around, each immersed in their own little worlds. You both walked up to the counter, where a cheerful barista greeted you with a welcoming smile.

Hongjoong glanced at you, gesturing for you to go first. “What would you like?”

You scanned the menu briefly before deciding. “I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please.”

The barista nodded and turned to Hongjoong. “And for you, sir?”

“I’ll take an Americano,” he replied with a friendly nod.

As the barista prepared your drinks, you and Hongjoong made small talk, the earlier tension steadily dissolving into a more relaxed and natural conversation. Once your drinks were ready, you carried them over to a small table by the window, where the soft evening light created a serene atmosphere.

Settling into your seats, Hongjoong took a sip of his coffee before turning his attention to you. “So, about that dress you wore at the audition. How did you make it? Because, as my memory serves me, it was a hundred percent identical to the design I made.”

You smiled, reminiscing about the creation process. “The landlord of the apartment I’m currently staying in helped me with making it. It was her way of thanking me for helping her with grocery shopping one day. She’s really talented with a sewing machine.”

Hongjoong’s eyes softened, and a warm smile spread across his face. “That’s really heartwarming. It’s wonderful how small acts of kindness can lead to such beautiful collaborations. It’s like the universe has a way of bringing the right people together at the right time.”

Touched by his words, you nodded. “The design itself was really beautiful and eye-catching. What was the inspiration behind it?”

Hongjoong’s expression shifted to a more somber tone as he gazed out the window, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “They’re inspired by the dreams I have failed to reach.”

Intrigued by the depth of his statement, you leaned forward slightly. “Sorry, could you elaborate on that?”

He paused, as if carefully choosing his words, before responding with a poetic yet cryptic tone. “Sometimes, the dreams we chase slip through our fingers like grains of sand, leaving behind a haunting echo of what could have been. But in that echo, there’s still beauty, still inspiration.”

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that spoke volumes. You could sense there was more to his story than he was letting on. “Is this dream of yours still up there, or has it already dissipated?”

Hongjoong sighed, a touch of uncertainty in his eyes. “To be honest, I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want it to be the latter.”

Sensing the mood deflating, you decided to steer the conversation towards lighter waters. “Tell me about Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Have you known them for a long time? The three of you seem really close.”

A smile tugged at Hongjoong’s lips, and he nodded appreciatively. “Yes, we’ve known each other since our youth. Seonghwa and I go way back. As for Wooyoung, we met him in college. He’s a year behind us, but it didn’t take long for us to become close friends.”

“How did the three of you meet?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with fond memories. “Seonghwa and I have known each other since we were kids. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. Wooyoung, on the other hand, we met him during his first year of college when we were in our second. He was this energetic, passionate guy who always had a camera in his hand. We quickly became friends, and our bond just grew stronger over time.”

He continued, his voice warm with nostalgia. “Wooyoung had this knack for capturing moments, and he saw the world in a way that inspired us both. Seonghwa and I were drawn to his creativity, and he brought out the best in us. The three of us complemented each other perfectly, both in our personal lives and in our professional endeavors.”

Hongjoong turned the conversation towards you, his curiosity piqued. “What about you? Do you have any friends that you cherish as much as I do with Wooyoung and Seonghwa?”

You paused to think about it. The figures that appeared in your mind were the daughter of the diner owner you used to work for and another person whose friendship you were unsure about.

Clearing your throat, you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with your own. “Yes, I do. She’s from Arcadia Bay, my hometown. Her name is Chloe—she’s someone I met through her mother, who owned the diner I used to work at before I got fired for always gobbling up both the leftovers and incorrect orders.”

Hongjoong’s laugh broke the story, and he immediately apologized, but you smiled, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I have to admit, it was a ridiculous way to get fired.” You continued, recounting your friendship with Chloe.

“She’s really cool. A bit of a bad influence, but she was one of the few reasons why I still consider my life in Arcadia Bay worth remembering. She was like those typical angsty teens you’d see in movies—the whole starter pack, even. You know, dyed hair, tattoos, alternative clothing style, sneaking into concerts of rock bands. She had every right to be like that, though. During my shift hours, she’d always keep me company by entertaining me with life stories she definitely shouldn’t have been going through at her age back then. We were sixteen, but that’s usually the rebellious time period for teenagers, so I guess it checks out.”

Hongjoong listened intently to every word, his focus never wavering. You could tell he was genuinely interested in what you were sharing. His attention made you feel valued, as if your stories were as important to him as his own.

“Sounds like your typical high school friendship,” he mused with a smile. “Can’t say it wasn’t the same case for me and Seonghwa, honestly.”

“Hold on, you had a rebellious teen phase?” you asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong’s expression grew more animated as he recalled his rebellious past, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and nostalgia. “Oh, you have no idea. Seonghwa and I were quite the troublemakers back then. We were involved in some pretty intense stuff—definitely not your average teenage rebellion, but I’m not too proud of that fact.”

You leaned in, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor. “Like what?” You had to admit, finding out that the man who always seemed to be so poised used to be a reckless teenager was jarring.

He chuckled, a hint of daring in his voice. “Well, for starters, we were heavily into the underground party scene. I’m talking about secret raves in abandoned warehouses and hidden clubs where the music was so loud, you could barely hear yourself think. The kind of places where the lights were always dim, and you had to know someone to get in.”

You listened intently, picturing the vibrant, chaotic scenes he described. “That sounds wild.” It was the type of life you’ll never be able to picture yourself experiencing—the very first proof of this being always turning down Chloe’s invites to parties taking place in a shady venue. It seemed fun, that’s for sure, but you just weren’t really built for it.

“Oh, it was,” Hongjoong agreed, his smile widening. “We were also really into street racing. Seonghwa had this old, souped-up car that he’d been working on for months. We’d drive it through the city streets, racing against anyone who dared to challenge us. Sometimes, we’d even have to make a quick getaway when the police showed up.”

His words painted a vivid picture of adrenaline-fueled nights and high-stakes races. “The police? That must have been thrilling.”

“It was,” he said, his gaze distant as if replaying the scenes in his mind. “And then there were the run-ins with the law. We were caught a few times, of course. Nothing too serious, but we had our share of close calls. There was this one time we were cornered by the cops after a particularly wild race, and we had to evade them through the back alleys of the city. It was like something out of a movie.”

Your eyes widened, impressed by the intensity of his teenage years. “Didn’t that ever scare you?”

He shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Not really. At the time, it felt like living on the edge was the only way to really feel alive. It was exhilarating, but we always managed to stay one step ahead. Those experiences made us who we are today, and while I don’t miss the chaos, I look back on it with a certain fondness.”

“You seem so different now,” you observed, noting the contrast between his past and present demeanor.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong agreed, his smile softening. “I guess I’ve changed quite a bit. Those days taught me a lot, but I also realized that I needed to channel that energy into something more constructive. That’s how I ended up finding my path in fashion designing. It was like a transformation from chaos to creativity. I still have a taste for adventure, but I prefer it now in the form of pushing boundaries in design rather than… dodging the cops.”

You laughed, though it was soon followed by an understanding nod, taking in the depth of his transformation. “It sounds like those years shaped you a lot. What was Seonghwa like during all this?”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up as he spoke about his friend. “Seonghwa was my partner in crime, quite literally. He was just as reckless and adventurous as I was. We were inseparable back then. He had a natural knack for getting us into the thick of things—whether it was by pushing our luck with illegal street races or sneaking into the most exclusive underground parties.”

You could sense the warmth in Hongjoong’s tone as he spoke of Seonghwa. “And did he ever get tired of all the chaos?”

“No,” Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head. “If anything, he thrived on it. We both did. But as we grew older, we started to see the value in channeling that rebellious spirit into something more sustainable. We realized that we could use our drive and creativity in more productive ways.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and contentment. “It’s funny, really. What once was all about defying norms and breaking rules became a passion for creating something new and innovative. I think it’s one of the reasons why Seonghwa and I get along so well. We understand each other’s journey from foolish teens to responsible adults.”

“Do you ever miss those days?” you asked, curious if he ever longed for the simpler times.

Hongjoong’s expression softened. “Sometimes. Life was simpler back then. No major responsibilities, just living in the moment. But I also appreciate where I am now. Those experiences shaped who I am today, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

You nodded in agreement, understanding his sentiment. “It’s amazing how those memories stay with us and influence who we become.”

He smiled warmly at you. “Right. And it’s the people we meet along the way that make those memories special. Like Chloe for you.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about your old friend. “Chloe was definitely one of those people. She made my time in Arcadia Bay memorable, despite everything.”

Hongjoong’s eyes held a hint of admiration as he looked at you. “It sounds like you had a real connection with her. Those kinds of friendships are rare and valuable.”

“They are,” you agreed, feeling a sense of nostalgia. “I’m grateful for those times, even if they’re in the past now.”

You leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. “You know, it feels a little weird sharing these stories with you. Not that it makes me uncomfortable, it’s just… I quite literally work under you. I can’t help but feel worried that I’m crossing a boundary by talking about these things.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours. “I understand why you might feel that way, but you’re not crossing any boundaries. Outside of work and the industry, I’m not a creative director. I’m just a normal human, just like you. So, it’s alright to talk to me about these things.”

You smiled, feeling a bit more reassured. “It might take a while for me to get used to talking to you comfortably without feeling guilty right after, though.” You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

He nodded, his smile understanding. “That’s completely understandable. Take your time.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and minutes later, you both decided to call it a night. Hongjoong stood up, lending his hand to help you out of your seat.

“Let me take you home,” he offered. While your initial thought was to turn him down, you knew deep inside you had a huge fear of walking alone late at night, so all you could do was accept his offer with a wordless nod of gratitude.

As you walked together towards your apartment, Hongjoong began to indulge you in small talk. “So, tell me more about your landlord.”

You smiled, thinking of Madame Dupont. “She’s always been very kind to me ever since I first moved in. She’s a lovely woman. She has a beautiful garden at the apartment, and back when I was still on my job hunt, I’d see her early in the morning, watering her plants and flowers. I think it’s a nice hobby to have.”

Hongjoong nodded, appreciating the sentiment. “Gardening does sound like a peaceful hobby. Have you ever thought about making your own garden?”

“I actually have, quite a few times already. But I can barely even take care of myself, so taking care of something else—a whole bunch of them at that—doesn’t really seem like a good idea on my behalf,” you joked, and both of you shared a laugh.

The laughter faded, and you shifted the conversation. “What about you? Do you have a dream hobby you wish to indulge in one day?”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’ve actually been wanting to learn how to play the guitar—an electric one specifically. But I’m just currently too busy with my work to sneak in a hobby.”

You decided to test the waters with a light-hearted joke. “That hobby is long overdue. You should’ve thought of it back when you were in your angsty teen phase.” Was that alright to say? Was it too far?

Much to your relief, Hongjoong laughed heartily. “You’re right. It would’ve fit perfectly with who I was back then.”

When you both finally reached your apartment building, you let out a small hum of surprise as a familiar figure darted towards you—a mischievous little feline known all too well to you.

“Pompidou?” you called out softly, crouching down as the cat stopped right in front of you, looking up with wide, curious eyes. You bent your knees, scooping it up into your arms with a gentle smile, feeling the comforting weight and warmth of the small creature.

Hongjoong watched this interaction with a fond smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Is that your cat?” he asked, stepping a little closer to get a better look.

You shook your head, still smiling as you stroked Pompidou’s soft fur. “No, he belongs to a fellow tenant. Pompidou just prefers to stay outdoors more. He’s quite the adventurous little guy.”

Intrigued, Hongjoong reached out to rub the cat’s head. “Be careful, he might—” You started to warn him about Pompidou’s unpredictable nature, but to your surprise, the cat began nuzzling its head against Hongjoong’s palm, purring contentedly.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, glancing up at Hongjoong. The proximity between your faces made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked back down at Pompidou, feeling a bit flustered. Clearing your throat to regain composure, you said, “It likes you.”

Hongjoong continued to rub Pompidou’s head, his touch gentle and kind. “Does it usually not accept physical touch from people who aren’t its owner?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You nodded. “You’re right. Sometimes, Pompidou doesn’t even like being touched by its owner. Poor Monsieur Frank always has to chase him around. It’s quite a sight.”

This made Hongjoong chuckle, a warm sound that resonated in the quiet evening. “But it likes you?”

You shrugged, still a bit puzzled by the cat’s behavior. “I honestly have no idea why that’s the case. Maybe he senses something.”

Hongjoong’s eyes softened as he watched the cat nuzzle against you. “I remember reading an article about animals and their behavioral traits, and it said that when a cat is naturally drawn to you, it means you have a kind soul and they can sense it.”

The thought of Pompidou seeing your soul as something pure warmed your heart, making you embrace the cat a little tighter. You glanced at Hongjoong, touched by his words. “Maybe that’s why it likes you a lot,” he mused quietly, almost as if speaking to himself.

As you cradled Pompidou in your arms like a baby, Hongjoong took a step back, reaching into his bag to retrieve his phone. He quickly snapped a candid photo of you with the cat, the moment capturing the tender interaction between you and Pompidou. Once the photo was taken, he discreetly put his phone back in his bag.

Only then did you turn your attention back to him, smiling warmly. “Thank you for spending the evening with me and walking me home. It was really nice. And… I’m still so sorry about not choosing to return the sketchbook sooner.”

Hongjoong laughed softly, shaking his head. “No need to thank me. I enjoyed it too. And don’t worry about the sketchbook. It’s really not a problem.”

You waved goodbye, watching as he safely crossed the road before finally heading inside. Setting Pompidou down gently on the floor, you bid the cat farewell too before heading up to your apartment. Once inside, you heaved a soft sigh of relief, feeling the familiar comfort of your home envelop you after a long day. Stretching your arms, you plopped yourself on the floor, leaning back against the couch to relax.

A message notification from Hongjoong pinged on your phone, showing a photo attachment. Opening it with initial confusion, you smiled widely as you saw a candid photo of you holding Pompidou in your arms. The image captured the warmth of the moment perfectly. You quickly reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out a response.

How come I didn’t notice you taking this photo?

Hongjoong’s reply then came swiftly, nearly a couple seconds right after you sent yours.

When you have a cat in your arms, it’s quite impossible to focus on everything that’s happening around you.

You laughed at his message, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you. You thanked him for today once more before shutting your phone and calling it a day—a well-spent one, at that.

—

It still felt surreal to everyone except for Hongjoong that the sketchbook was finally back in his hands, removing the key obstacle that had been troubling him for a while. It had been three days since he shared the news with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, and despite the word spreading quickly, people still found it hard to believe that it had resurfaced just when everyone least expected it. Relief was the dominant sentiment among the team, but Seonghwa and Wooyoung couldn’t shake their curiosity about how, when, and where Hongjoong found the sketchbook. This mystery led them to their usual spot for private conversations about Hongjoong: Seonghwa’s office.

Seonghwa sat at his desk, diligently working through paperwork, while Wooyoung sprawled on the office couch, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful frown.

“I just don’t get why he’d be so cryptic about it,” Wooyoung said, breaking the silence. His voice carried a mix of confusion and frustration.

Seonghwa shrugged without looking up from his papers. “He’s always had a knack for being secretive. But in this situation, it doesn’t seem quite sensible.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Wooyoung almost yelled, sitting up abruptly. Seonghwa glanced at him, surprised by his outburst. “Oops. But yeah, it’s not like he has to share every detail with us, but why wouldn’t he, you know?”

“I’m as lost as you are,” Seonghwa replied with a sigh, flipping to the next page of his paperwork. “Maybe he’ll come around eventually. For now, we should just be glad he’s got it back. You know how much it means to him.”

Wooyoung nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do. It means as much to him as a worn-out bunny plush means to a child in a horror movie.”

Seonghwa chuckled at the comparison. “Nice observation.”

“You think he’s gonna magically appear anytime soon now?” Wooyoung asked suddenly, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. “He always seems to show up exactly when we’re talking about him.”

“You think he’ll show up if you say his name three times?” Seonghwa asked, playing along with Wooyoung’s musings.

“What, like Bloody Mary?”

“I was leaning towards Beetlejuice, but that fits too,” Seonghwa responded with a contemplative look.

Wooyoung grinned. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetle—”

At that exact moment, the door to Seonghwa’s office swung open, and Hongjoong walked in. “Speak of the devil,” Seonghwa said, unable to hide his amusement as he looked at Wooyoung, who appeared mortified.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of their conversation. “Talking about me again?”

Wooyoung tried to play it cool. “Oh, I was actually summoning you right before you came in.”

Hongjoong gave him a deadpan expression. “I heard you chanting Beetlejuice’s name three times before entering.”

Feigning innocence, Wooyoung shrugged. “Pure coincidence.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes and brushed him off, turning his attention to Seonghwa. “Anyway, we need to discuss the plans for Fashion Week now that the sketchbook is back. Can we go over the details?”

Seonghwa nodded, clearing his desk to make space for the discussion. He pulled out a large binder filled with notes, sketches, and timelines. “Of course. We have a lot to cover.”

Hongjoong settled into the chair across from Seonghwa, pulling out his own notes. “I’ve been thinking about our initial concept for the collection. Now that we have the sketches back, I want to make sure we stay true to the original vision.”

Seonghwa flipped through the binder, stopping at a section filled with sketches and fabric swatches. “I agree. The original vision was strong, but we need to ensure every piece aligns perfectly with it. Let’s start with the color palette.”

Hongjoong nodded, leaning forward. “I’m thinking we stick with the bold, contrasting colors. It’s a statement collection, and the colors need to reflect that. The deep reds, midnight blues, and metallic accents should remain as the primary focus.”

Seonghwa made notes as Hongjoong spoke, occasionally nodding in agreement. “And the fabrics? Are we still going with the mix of leather and silk?”

“We are,” Hongjoong confirmed. “The juxtaposition of the tough and the delicate is what gives the collection its edge. The leather jackets with silk linings, the silk dresses with leather accents—it all needs to be cohesive.”

Wooyoung, now sitting up properly, watched the discussion unfold with interest. “What about the accessories? Are we doing anything special with those?”

Hongjoong glanced at Wooyoung, then back at Seonghwa. “I was thinking about incorporating some custom jewelry pieces. Something that complements the outfits but stands out on its own. Maybe some statement necklaces and rings?”

Seonghwa jotted down the ideas, flipping to another page in the binder. “And the runway show? Do we have a clear vision for the presentation?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong said firmly. "The runway needs to reflect the collection’s theme. I’m envisioning a stark, industrial setting with dramatic lighting. The music should be intense, something that amplifies the mood we’re going for.”

Seonghwa nodded, his pen moving quickly across the paper. “Sounds perfect. We’ll need to coordinate with the production team to make sure everything aligns.”

Wooyoung, still lounging on the couch, suddenly broke the silence with a thoughtful question. “Would you ever tell us about how you got your sketchbook back someday? Like, you know, maybe after Fashion Week?”

Seonghwa, leaning back in his chair and stretching, hummed in agreement. “While I’m not usually one to pry, I have to admit I’m a little curious about that as well.”

Hongjoong simply smiled, leaning back in his seat. “It’s up to the answer if it wants to come forward. If not, I’m afraid all you can do is accept things as they are.”

Wooyoung frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the cryptic response. “Why are you always so mysterious whenever there’s something you don’t want to tell us about? You sound like a riddler.”

Hongjoong laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the room. “Maybe I am,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He then shifted the conversation, clearly intent on steering it away from the sketchbook’s return. “Anyway, how did the recent photoshoot at that old Parisian venue go? I couldn’t stick around long because of work.”

Wooyoung’s expression brightened at the change of topic. “Oh, it went really well! She was fantastic. She had this natural ease in front of the camera that made everything flow smoothly. The venue was perfect too, with its rustic charm and vintage vibes. It really brought out the best in the shoot.”

Seonghwa nodded, visibly pleased with the feedback. “I’ve seen some of the raw shots. They’re set to be uploaded on our social media platforms tomorrow. Are the chosen photos finalized?”

Wooyoung leaned back, crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. “Yes, they are. I sent the file to you last night, actually. I left it up to her to choose which ones she wanted to be uploaded and which ones she didn’t. She has a good eye for these things.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s a lot of trust to put in her.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “She chose the best shots—she knows her stuff, that’s for sure. Plus, she’s the one in the photos. It only makes sense for her to have a say in how she’s presented.”

Seonghwa agreed, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on his desk. “I think it’s a good call. It’s important that she feels comfortable with what’s being shared. It builds trust and respect, which is essential in this industry.”

Hongjoong nodded, appreciating their insights. “I’m glad to hear it went well. It’s good to know we’re on the right track.”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “I agree. And I have to say, she really brought her A-game. I think the location also played a huge role. There’s something about that old Parisian charm that adds a layer of authenticity and nostalgia to the photos. It’s like we’re capturing a piece of history.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his interest piqued. “I’d love to see the final selections. Can we go through them now?”

Seonghwa reached for his laptop, quickly pulling up the folder with the chosen photos. He positioned the screen so all three of them could see. “Here are the ones she decided on.”

They spent the next few minutes reviewing each photo, discussing the angles, the lighting, and the overall composition.

“This one,” Hongjoong pointed to a shot where you were caught in a candid moment of laughter. “It feels so genuine and warm. It’s the kind of photo that draws people in.”

Wooyoung nodded. “That’s exactly why she chose it. It’s authentic. It shows her personality in a way that’s relatable and endearing.”

Seonghwa scrolled to another photo, this one a more posed shot with you looking pensively out of a window. “And this one has a different kind of impact. It’s introspective and thoughtful. It adds depth to the collection.”

Hongjoong agreed, his eyes lingering on the image. “It’s a good balance. We need both the candid and the posed shots to tell a complete story.”

Wooyoung chimed in, “She really knows how to work the camera. Even in the posed shots, there’s this natural grace about her that just comes through.”

Hongjoong added, “The lighting in this one is perfect. It highlights her features without being too harsh. It’s soft, yet striking. And the backdrop of the Parisian venue really adds a timeless quality to the photos. It’s like we’re capturing a moment in time, a blend of the past and present.”

Wooyoung leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You know, while I think the backdrop and the angles definitely helped, I believe it was her visuals that completed the whole thing. There’s just something about the way she carries herself.”

Seonghwa nodded, glancing at the photos on the laptop screen. “I agree. Even when I first saw her on the other side of the road, she looked like she was part of some sort of painting. There’s an almost ethereal quality to her presence.”

Hongjoong, who had been lost in thought, found himself contemplating the same thing. There was something about you, not just your looks but your overall vibe, that felt different to him. It wasn’t just your physical appearance; it was the way you composed yourself, the quiet confidence you exude. It was as if you were in a world of your own, and yet fully present in the moment. He couldn’t quite place it, but it intrigued him deeply.

Snapping his fingers in front of Hongjoong’s face, Wooyoung dragged him out of his reverie. “Hey, earth to Hongjoong. You okay?”

Hongjoong blinked, realizing he had been staring off into space. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. Were you saying something?”

Wooyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I was just saying there’s something about her charisma that sets her apart from every other model I’ve worked with. Don’t you agree? It’s like she has this unique energy that just draws people in.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, his mind still partially occupied by his earlier thoughts. “Yeah... yeah, I agree. There’s definitely something special about her. It’s not just about looks. It’s more than that.”

Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. “I think It’s her presence. She has this natural grace and ease that’s rare. It’s like she belongs in front of the camera, but she’s not trying too hard. It’s effortless.”

Wooyoung smiled, his thoughts aligning with Seonghwa’s words. “You get it. It’s like she’s not performing, she’s just being herself. And that authenticity shines through in every shot.”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s what makes her perfect for our brand. She embodies the kind of genuine beauty and charisma we want to showcase. It’s refreshing to work with someone who doesn’t rely on pretense.” He glanced at the photos once more, feeling a sense of satisfaction and excitement. “We’re lucky to have her on board.”

Seonghwa nodded, closing the laptop. “Agreed. And with Fashion Week coming up, we need all the positive energy we can get. This is a great start.”

Wooyoung stretched, a content smile on his face. “I can’t wait to see the reaction when these photos go live. I have a feeling they’re going to be a hit.”

As the conversation shifted to the finer details of the upcoming Fashion Week, the room buzzed with excitement and determination. They knew they were on the brink of something great, and they were ready to give it their all.

Yet, amidst all the planning and strategizing, Hongjoong couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. There was something about your presence that stayed with him, a quiet, unspoken connection that he couldn’t quite define. He knew there was more to you than met the eye, and he found himself eager to discover what that was.

🪞 — lividstar.

[asteroidzzzn]

I was replaying Ellie’s Seattle day 3 and got to the point where her and Jesse go to the one building with all the comic posters and where they decide their was a convention there and I got an idea. i was wondering if you could write mordern!ellie taking reader to a comic convention and nerding out. Sorry that was a really bad explanation😭

a/n: dwdw i understood i get u, this is so cute and ur so right bc she would totally do that

comic-con with ellie

pairing: modern!ellie x reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: just cursing and fluff (✿◠‿◠)

you trudged through the hot crowd, shading your eyes with your hand from the radiant august sun.

you were at a convention with your girlfriend, who had begged you to go with her during summer. for the most part, you had no idea what she was getting excited over, but you happily took pictures of her with writers and cosplayers regardless.

when ellie told you she was going to the bathroom, you divided to wander around the massive space. there were a few popular comics you recognized, such as spiderman, batman, and your favorite, the flash.

you saw bright flashing signs of DC and marvel, fondly remembering the time when ellie gave you a very lengthy lecture on the difference between the two after you had said, "but, they seem the same to me...?"

a booth caught your eye where people were dressed up in intricate armor and handing each other cards. you approached them and studied the cards laid out. a woman sitting on a chair noticed you and smiled.

"hi! looking to trade or buy any cards or figurines?"

she gestured to the array of options on the table.

"um, which ones are from uh...savage starlight? it's my girlfriend's favorite so i wanna get something for her, but i don't know much about it."

"oh, that's no problem," she began shuffling around the cards and placed a figurine in front of you, "these are all savage starlight. you're lucky you came now, it's been very popular."

you pointed to a card of a woman named dr. daniela star. her hair sort of looked like ellie's, and she looked like a badass.

"how much for this one?"

she winced, "about $145, she's extremely rare, and that's the last copy we have."

"oh shit," you chuckled, "it's ok, i'll get it."

you bought the card and stepped away to look at more booths. your phone buzzed with a notification.

els 💗💫: omg babe come here rn

els 💗💫 shared their location with you

els 💗💫: im upstairs behind the x-men wall

els 💗💫: they have one of the cards here that i've been looking for since i was 14!!!!!

els 💗💫: i need to get it

you found your way upstairs eventually and found ellie, grinning widely while holding a trading card. it looked similar to the one you had just bought, with the same trimming and design on the back.

"look what i found! it's the robot one i was telling you about!"

"oh wow, that's great! doesn't that mean you only need a few more to finish the collection?"

she groaned and threw her head back. "yeah, i just need two more. one is way too expensive though, and the other is impossible to find. it's dr. star, the scientist that created the robot," she held up the robot with a disappointed look, then slipped it into her pocket.

you intertwined her hand with yours. "let's keep looking around, i'm sure you can find something else cool."

she nodded as she led you downstairs to continue strolling around the convention.

"you're so wrong! i would be mj and you're peter!" you teased ellie while you giggled as she rolled her eyes.

"fine, but i'm gwen and you're miles," she remarked, as the two of you stepped outside into the chilling air. you continued to bicker playfully as you walked to the car. as you stepped in ellie sighed.

"thanks for coming to this with me. you have fun?"

you nodded, "yeah, actually, i got a funny picture with someone that was dressed up as ronald mcdonald. i sent it to jesse and dina and they said "oh my god, you found your twin."

ellie let out a loud laugh, and you continued to talk about the experience with her, sharing cool things you saw as you wandered around alone.

"ugh about that, i'm still so upset i couldn't find the card i wanted," she said, voice laced with sadness as she shifted the car into gear to drive home. "it's all good, next year they might have it, or i could find it on ebay if i sell an organ or two," she shrugged at you and placed her hands on the wheel.

you placed your hand on top of hers to stop her.

"actually, while you were in the bathroom i found something," you reached into your purse and pulled out the dr. daniela star card, still encased in the plastic protection.

"oh my fucking god," she breathed, her jaw slack.

you bit your lip as she simply stared. a few seconds passed.

"...ellie do you like it?"

"i love you," she said, taking the card into her hands and inspecting it.

you snickered. "me or her?"

her gaze shot up to yours. "you, you. of course," she set the card down to grab your face with both hands and kiss you so hard you nearly tipped over onto the window. she pulled away for only to fall back onto you again, hugging you tightly mumbling "thankyouthankyouthankyou" into your shirt.

she sat back up and took the robot card from her pocket and compared the two of them. she looked like she was in awe. it was adorable.

"you're such a dork," you said.

"yeah, you love it though."

a/n: i hope i did ur idea justice anon 🙏

taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @elliesinterlude @fireflyelllie @trulygnomed @deluluwh-0-re @toesorhoes @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss @emluvselandabs @ariianelle @jokerpokimoon @lonelyfooryouonly

[joannechocolat]

Dear Mr X...

It’s hard to give up a relationship, even when it has become toxic. Even when it brings you no joy, it’s hard to accept the fact that you’re better off without it. To look at the time you spent building it, to write off those years and start again can feel like jumping off a cliff into a bottomless precipice. You start to think of all the things you’ll lose if the relationship ends; the good times, the shared friends, the laughter and the memories. Your heart sinks at the thought of trying to rebuild all that from scratch. The time. The work. The energy. It feels like a bereavement.

I feel like that about Twitter now. A relationship that began fifteen years ago, when I was someone different, and the platform was new and hopeful and designed for communication, rather than spreading division. Sometimes I still find myself mourning that time; the friends I made; the stories I wrote, the thousands of incarnations of the Shed. Some of my friends have been left there for good, their Twitter accounts frozen in time; their words all that remains of them. Perhaps that’s why I’m reluctant to leave, even though the bluebirds have flown, and even the logo is changing to something that looks to me a lot like a modified swastika – an apt comparison, given the way in which certain voices and political views have been given unasked-for prominence, while others seem to have vanished altogether from my feed. Feed someone garbage for long enough, and they start to sicken and die. That’s what happening via this site. I have watched it happening ever since Elon Musk arrived - a man so cartoonishly self-obsessed that it’s hard to even believe he’s real, except that no writer of fiction or game designer would dream of creating such a crass and substandard character.

X. What a choice of symbol.

X marks the spot for pirates in search of buried treasure. X is the mark of a person who is unable to write their name. X is the identity of someone who needs to stay anonymous. It’s a voter’s mark; an erasure; a mystery; a chromosome.

And it’s also an occult symbol, a rune: the rune Gyfu according to the Old English Futhorc, and Gebo in the Elder Futhark; both of which translate as “gift”.

The Anglo-Saxon rune poem that accompanies it goes like this:

ᚷ Gẏfu gumena bẏþ gleng and herenẏs, ƿraþu and ƿẏrþscẏpe and ƿræcna gehƿam ar and ætƿist, ðe bẏþ oþra leas.

which translates as follows:

Generosity brings credit and honour, which support one's dignity; it furnishes help and subsistence to all broken men who are devoid of aught else.

At first glance, this seems the opposite of what Elon Musk has done for the world. A man who sees social media as his own personal platform; a man who sees the cosmos as his own personal joy-ride.

The mistake we made was believing that Twitter was our playground. Elon Musk has made it his, and is currently in the process of breaking the toys, chopping down the trees and nuking the site from orbit, just to prove that play is overrated, and that only money counts. I can’t help feeling sorry for the little boy he must have been, and to wonder what he might have been like if he’d actually had any friends. But it’s time: and the change of branding makes it even easier to step away.

So maybe this is a kind of gift to the ones of us leaving Twitter. Misinformation, misogyny, transphobia, conspiracy theories and other kinds of social media poison have already made it increasingly difficult to feel safe there. (And fun fact, the word Gift in German happens to mean “poison”.) Perhaps the ultimate gift of X is the freedom from the toxicity that has built up in this most volatile of media; the gift of better mental health; of greater connection to our world; an escape from a toxic fantasy back into the open air.

I won’t leave altogether – Threads still isn’t open to Europe, and the jury’s still out on Bluesky - but I don’t want to give any more of my content to a man who values power and money over human connection. I’m @joannechocolat across all my social media - that’s Threads, Bluesky, Tumblr and Instagram – and I’ll still be posting stories on my ko-fi account at: https://ko-fi.com/story. But if you want to know what I’m doing, then sign up to my free newsletter on my website at joanne-harris.co.uk. I’m coming to believe that social media as I once knew it may have run its course for me: I won’t leave it altogether, but from now on I plan to invest more of my time and energy elsewhere.

And as for Mr X - I doubt you’ll be around forever. But while you are, my gift to you is this final story: written live on Twitter, as was, for all the little bluebirds.

There once was a boy who had no friends. His father gave him everything money can buy: toy cars, model aeroplanes, even rockets that really flew, but friends were impossible to buy, and the boy was lonely, angry, and bored. 

One day, when he was playing alone with one of his expensive toys, he saw a group of children playing in a nearby park. They sounded so merry and carefree that the boy was jealous. 

“Why don’t I have friends?” he cried. “I shall buy the park, and then everyone will notice me.”

And so the boy asked his father to buy him the park for his very own; and he settled there with his expensive toys, and put a notice on the gate, saying: Entrance fee, 8 shillings.

The children of the neighbourhood looked enviously at the empty park. Some of the wealthier ones paid the entry fee, but many of the children did not; instead, they waited outside the gates, and looked into the place where once they had all played together.

But still the boy was not content. None of the new children played with him. Instead they played their own games, and climbed trees, or played hide and seek, or lay on the grass watching the clouds. None of this served the boy at all, and he was sulky and discontent.

“If I have all the trees cut down, then maybe the others will notice me,” he thought.

And so he ordered his servants to cut down all the trees in the park. But apart from a few toadies and flatterers, the children still did not play with him, but mocked him secretly from afar, and fell silent whenever he passed by.

“How ungrateful these children are,” said the boy, getting angry. “I bought this park for them, and still they refuse to play with me! Very well, I shall cease to pay the groundsmen and the gardeners. The park will be overrun with weeds. Wild animals will roam there.”

And so the boy did as he had promised, and the park became a wilderness. No-one wanted to pay for it, and even the toadies and flatterers and children of wealthy families went elsewhere to see their friends.

The boy was very angry at this, but there was no-one to be angry with. All the other children had gone. And so he took out his rage on the deer who had begun to roam in the park, shooting them with his toy crossbow, and became known throughout the land as a mighty hunter.

[adampage]

HANGMAN PAGE BIRTHDAY WEEK

-> starts Friday, July 21st, 2023 and ends Thursday, July 27th, 2023

Hello, everyone! It's me, Emi adampage here, coming to you fresh from the post-Double or Nothing high, to announce that HANGMAN PAGE BIRTHDAY WEEK will be happening again this year! I am going to make this considerably hard on myself, as I will be out of the country during the week of, but I will do my very best to reblog any creations you make!

That being said, here's what I have in mind for this year :)

OBJECTIVE

To create wonderful works [edits, gifs, writing, art, videos, etc] in the name and in the honor of our lovely cowboy, Hangman Adam Page, during the week of July 21st, 2023, to July 27th, 2023.

RULES

There are prompts/themes for each day, sometimes even two. You may choose to do either or both! You may also do multiple of each, if it strikes your heart to do so.

Do not take the prompts at face value. You may interpret them in any way you would like! (If you cannot choose one of something for a theme, feel free to talk/write/create about more than one. Multiple loves and multiple favorites are implied!)

You can use any form of post available to you through tumblr. Video, photo, gif, text, audio, etc etc. It’s ALL up to YOU! (Fics can be linked from ao3 if it’s easier for you)

If you only want to do certain days, no worries!! Do everything in any way you would like. And if you’re a bit late on some prompts than others, that’s completely fine (just don’t be early lol)! the hangman gang will want to see them either way <3

If you have ANY QUESTIONS, please don't hesitate to DM me or send me an ask!

THEMES

Day 1 - July 21st - FRIDAY: Hangman + LOVE

Day 2 - July 22nd - SATURDAY: Hangman + HATE

Day 3 - July 23rd - SUNDAY: Hangman + BLOOD (or, if that's not your style, SILLY/GOOFY)

Day 4 - July 24th - MONDAY: Hangman + PLAYLIST

Day 5 - July 25th - TUESDAY: Hangman + FOIL* (or other literary device, such as 'parallel')

Day 6 - July 26th - WEDNESDAY: Hangman + FANTASY/DREAM

Day 7 - July 27th - THURSDAY: HANGMAN'S BIRTHDAY! Hangman + FREE CHOICE

*it was brought to my attention that this one can seem confusing. The definition of "foil" is as follows (from literarydevices.net): Foil is a literary device designed to illustrate or reveal information, traits, values, or motivations of one character through the comparison and contrast of another character. A literary foil character serves the purpose of drawing attention to the qualities of another character, frequently the protagonist. This is effective as a means of developing a deeper understanding of a character by emphasizing their strengths and weaknesses. In addition, a literary foil allows writers to create a counterpart for the protagonist that puts their actions and choices in context. (You can use this definition, or you can get inspiration from it. Or, you can use a different literary device, if you so choose. You can also liken the word 'foil' to, I dunno, tinfoil. What I love about word prompts is that you can take a word and create something completely different than someone else. Go crazy!)

As always, thank you to @mistress-omega-majesty, @jonmoxleys, @sheslikealostflower, and @cowboyshit for the feedback on the prompts!

LAST BIT OF RULES

Please remember to mention the THEME in your post, as well as to TAG YOUR POST with the following: #HANGMANPAGEBIRTHDAYWEEK within the first five tags, and to tag ME (main @adampage​), in a reply comment under your post, or in the body of your post, whatever is easier. I will be posting my edits to @bloodycowboyclub, and likely will post any text posts/writing from my main.

PLEASE REBLOG TO SPREAD THE WORD! Even if you only plan to enjoy the creations!! I want as many people as possible to participate and it’s only possible if this ends up on their dashes! Thank you (:

Don’t forget to have fun!!

[larvasmoon]

Hello hello fellow writer!

I adore your work - obviously - and was wondering whether you'd like to talk a little about your literary influences? Which authors or artists in general have inspired you for your fics?

Patiently waiting for your masquerade ball chapter because I know it's gonna slap! ❤️

Hi hello hello ❤️

It's such a wonderful surprise to receive a message from you, the wonderfully talented author who inspired me to write again. It has come full circle ! 😌

I think my literary influences are a bit eclectic, they come from very different periods of time and different countries. In french literature big authors like Maupassant for instance have probably influenced my writing style quite a bit, I used to try and mimic the way he built his sentences when I was younger.

As a whole I'd say that everything gothic or neo-gothic is a huge source of inspiration ! Medieval literature, and more specifically arthurian literature, is an obsession of mine. I don't know how much it influences the way I write and imagine things but it plays a part for sure. Authors from the 19th century however are my biggest inspirations I think. The Brontë sisters, Sheridan Le Fanu, Oscar Wilde, Bram Stocker, Edgar Allan Poe : all those authors have left a huge impression on me after I read them and their novels still live somewhere in my subconscious.

Art is also a big inspiration (especially in "Portrait of the pale elf"). I love the aesthetic of tarot decks, both in their names and designs. Sometimes when I'm imagining a scene, I'll also picture it as a painting. It could be a 19th century painter like Gaston de La Touche and his wonderful ball sceneries for instance. If I had to choose a more contemporary artist though, I'd pick Jodie Muir's work. It's so dreamy and dark at the same time, it really encapsulates the atmosphere I want to create in my stories.

I might've gotten a bit carried away but thank you so much for that wonderful question ❤️ I'm very excited to read the next chapter of your beautiful fic as well ! This story, and all your others fics, are always so inspiring ☺️

[eldritchreveries]

regarding your recent post (sorry to see you leave the fandom, but I totally understand your reasons and wish you all the best in what you do next) - your statement about the fandom having a lot of big names who are known predators worried me a bit, I’ve only heard about the ex/jr person and thought that was it, and now I’m wondering if I’ve unknowingly supported anyone similar. i guess I’m asking if there are any other known creators here that we should also steer clear of?

Heya, for the nature of this answer, i'll be censoring it. I'll just go through the gyst of it

To anyone seeing this post dont open it if you're sensitive to these topics

most of the drama unfolded on the twitter side of the fandom. If you didnt know already, ReyGGTV has been a known problematic creator in recent years, theres a whole list of things he's done that you can find online if you're curious. Though these days a lot of newer fans dont know what he's done or the drama has since died down since it unfolded a few years ago, but he's still someone to be cautious of imo. I didnt personally witness his drama, but have a lot of info from people who did.

Tristan Zepeda, a fairly prolific fanartist and writer was recently outted a few weeks ago as being a predator, sending nsfw content to a minor and having roleplay s3x with the Hilda chatbot on hildacord, as he confessed to it all on twitter before shortly deleting his account. Apparently he's currently trying to rebrand and return to the community under a new username "atom"

And Hildaboo (very known fanartist) was going around trying to tell everyone to stay quiet about the predator situation in attempt to "save the fandom". They would rather everyone sweep the predator issue under the rug and let them run rampent and hurt other young fans than "create drama and kill the fandom". I believe Hildaboo has since made a statement regarding it, but this was only after i had to have a whole conversation with them on why telling everyone to be quiet and ignore the predators to keep the fandom alive is in fact, a terrible thing to do. I really don't think i should have had to have this conversation with a grown adult.

And of course, the whole ExJr incident. He was a good friend of mine, and it devestated me when i found out what he'd done. Which, long story short, he sent nsfw content to and had sexual roleplays with a 12 year old, when he was in his 20s. He also copied and stole mine and another friend's character designs without crediting us.

There have also been smaller fanartists around twitter that just flat out draw cp of the main Hilda trio and also ship adults and children together (example; there is a lot of Kaisa x David shipping) and tbh i was sick of seeing it, considering a good chunk of the people around them thought this was completely okay. I was also chased away from the reddit community for a while due to lgbtq+ art and dm'd threats and slurs.

For the sake of legality, everything mentioned here is alleged.

[darkbluekies]

I found your account through you God story (forgot the name) but its cool to see you progress since then and all the cool stories you've come out with even looking back at some of the stories a year ago and seeing how your writing had improved you are a wonderful writer and I hope you go places from here

you OCs feel so real and well rounded like talking to a real person and thats hard to get in a lot of indie writer but I can tell how much you love writing and your ocs through your stories

Oh that's ages ago? That's even before Edmund was created😧 (when the God was supposed to be my 5th character lol)

I'm not designed for these kinds of sweet praises, I feel so awkward responding to them because I feel like my thanks don't match up to the sweet message I'm responding to😭 but these kinds of messages really, really does make me happy and motivates me a lot, thank you so much🥹♡

I really, really hope I become an author. I don't want to be anything else. I love creating stories and my own worlds and characters. The characters are my favorite things to do, which probably is noticeable, haha. Characters, in my opinion, make or break stories. You can have the best plot and world building in mind, but if the characters are flat, your entire story falls flat. Dialouge and characteristics are really important for me. The more real they feel, the better♡♡

Thank you so so much again, really🩷

[topazadine]

How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method

Estimated Reading Time: 13 Minutes

I've become a little obsessed with stories of Chomolungma lately. You probably know this sacred Nepalese mountain by its Westernized name, Mount Everest.

Anyway, I'm never going to scale the world's highest peak because I have no interest in losing any of my toes to frostbite or dying of pulmonary edema. Don't think I'm about to go dashing off into the wilderness.

BUT I think we writers can derive a lot of lessons from mountain climbers when plotting for grand adventure novels.

And why the hell is that? Why Chomolungma specifically? Well, I'll explain.

Just a head's up that my advice probably won't apply to romances, mysteries, or anything other than your typical "we're going on an adventure to slay a dragon or whatever." I don't have much experience in those genres and am not going to step on any toes.

As usual, this is just my opinion. There are thousands of different plotting tools out there, and this is only one of them. If you don't like it, then no need to use it. I'm simply giving you a different option. Alright, let's go!

I am sure you have seen this diagram a million billion times and are very tired of it.

It's not wrong, per se; in fact, it looks much like a mountain. Most stories do indeed have these same parts, and so will yours if you use the Plot Mountain method.

However, there's some things that this simplified version doesn't explain:

It acts as if you're just constantly ramping up pressure. There's no breathers to let readers catch up.

There are no differential tensions to keep interest.

There are no "mini-climaxes" that impress upon the reader a sense of danger.

We are not provided with an understanding of how to create different stages of the plot within the rising action.

There is no discussion of how characterization changes during the course of the plot.

It's not explained how to organize the falling action in order to provide continued tension and character development.

I also have some problems with other common plotting methods, specifically Save the Cat and the Hero's Journey. Mostly, I think that they get really tiring and formulaic because they're just so rigid. There's little room to add your own flare; you're plugging all the shit in as intended.

Save the Cat especially irks me because it basically demands that you divide up your story into little percentages so everything happens right according to this algorithm.

If I start to get a hint that your story was designed by adhering to these standards, then I can just predict what's going to happen and I don't care anymore. "Oh ... there's the B Story. I guess the Fun and Games is coming next. Yippee."

One time, I had someone beta read one of my manuscripts, and she complained that my story didn't exactly match this structure.

"I couldn't figure out where Act 1 ends and Act 2 begins!" she wailed. Well, given that I didn't design my story according to strict acts, it's no wonder you couldn't find them.

Also, I hate math. Don't infest my passion with my nemesis, please.

So, I challenge you to think a bit differently using my method instead. It combines characterization with plot and momentum to offer you a natural setup for a great story. Thinking of your story this way forces you to focus on how all elements come together, and it discourages you from piling on dumb shit that won't help.

My option is also more flexible; I'm not telling you exactly when and where the stuff needs to happen. That's up to you, babe. You're the boss.

Key elements of Plot Mountain

Your plot must be desirable for some reason.

Whatever goal your characters have should feel worthwhile. People spend their life's savings and a good portion of their lives to get to Chomolungma, facing down all the frustrations and disappointments to do it.

While your character may not necessarily know what is in store for them, they should nevertheless have a reason for wanting to achieve whatever you've got going on.

You need to "equip" your characters by giving them the skills and purpose necessary to tackle this challenge.

Mountain-madness-morons who think themselves "Chosen Ones" are generally the ones that fuck up and die. That's why you have all these rich tourists falling into crevasses, where their bodies are trapped forever.

Similarly, you must demonstrate to your readers that your character is somehow worthy of the challenge you're giving them.

Sometimes, this means they have the natural passion and inclination but need some training. At Chomolungma Base Camp, the native Sherpas give their charges some lessons in high-altitude mountaineering before they head off onto the mountain, even if they have experience. This is your "orientation session" for the characters that shows why they, specifically, can handle what you are throwing at them.

Every character has a reason for being there.

This is a good reminder for people who have a tendency to cram a million characters into their stories.

A Chomolungma expedition is not composed of random passersby who feel like going up a mountain today. Everyone there brings something unique to the table and must work in concert to achieve their goal.

This offers you many options for main characters and support characters. For example, an expedition team can have mountain climbers, Sherpa guides, porters, and a camera crew, and you can give your main cast similar roles.

Your characters have agency and make choices.

No one just kinda wanders up Chomolungma. They must consistently make the right decision, and it's rare for a deus ex machina to pop in.

Yes, things fit together to make things happen, and there are sometimes miracles, but for the most part, it is the preparation, experience, and some external circumstances (like weather) that decide whether someone lives or dies. No last-minute Hail Marys or interventions from on high.

There is a time crunch.

It's rare to summit Chomolungma in the winter because it's just too dangerous, so climbers need to head off during the spring and summer, before the weather turns nasty. There's a short window of opportunity.

Because the Nepalese government only issues a limited number of expedition passes each year, and they're so expensive, many people only get one shot in their entire lives. Everything has to go perfectly or they may never get to try again.

Additionally, being at altitude for any period of time is dangerous, which keeps people pushing for the summit even when they want to give up and go home.

You should show the pressure of your plot, explaining why it needs to be done right now rather than ten years in the future. We must feel that this is essential and that time could run out.

Every summit attempt is fraught with peril, and many have to turn back.

It is incredibly common for expeditions to hit bad weather and have to abandon the summit push; every climber knows and fears this.

Demonstrating that it's entirely possible not to hit your climax infuses the story with a sense of danger. It can also help you decide what might be more impactful and relevant to your story: having to turn back (which opens the door for a sequel) or getting to the summit and celebrating.

Not everyone makes it to the top.

You probably know that Chomolungma has at least 200 bodies littered across it, many of which have become signposts for other climbers attempting not to meet the same fate. There are likely dozens of others that have been blown away by the wind into crevasses or buried under snow.

Depending on your genre, you can and should show that others have failed, or even kill one of your characters during the "summit attempt" to highlight the peril.

Thinking of different plot points as camps reminds you that you need moments of downtime.

While you can't overstay your welcome on Chomolungma, you also can't be climbing 24/7; you'll straight up die. It's important to stop, take a break, and acclimate to the different altitudes as you keep going.

"ABC" stands for "Advanced Base Camp," basically right at the foot of the mountain. It's where you actually start your summit push. North Col is also known as Camp 1.

The camps, I think, are the key element of the Plot Mountain method, because they remind you that your story needs to "plateau" at a few different points to give your characters (and readers) time to breathe.

This doesn't mean that there's no tension at all, because things can still go bad at camp. It just means we're slowing down, recapping things, allowing for character development and maybe a bit of backstory.

You can also allow your characters to meet background characters at these camps, knowing that they will not be around forever. These background characters can offer helpful advice, sow doubt, or impress upon us the risks that will be up ahead.

Each "push" between camps is a little different, with unique dangers.

As you head up Chomolungma, there are different challenges to overcome between each camp; this may be steeper climbs or dangerous crevasses with only a tiny metal ladder to keep you from plunging to your death. Driving snow and fierce gusts can blow you off the mountain as you get higher and higher.

And, of course, there's the Death Zone at the top, where's there's practically no oxygen whatsoever and it's so freezing cold that you may lose your feet.

The danger rises with every push toward the summit, reminding you to build the tension and demonstrate the dangers in your story. After each camp, you'll show brand new risks that nevertheless fit into the plot.

A climax can't overstay its welcome.

After spending all this time preparing to reach the top of the world, climbers actually don't get that much time on the summit. It's freezing cold, the air is impossibly thin, and they need to head down before it gets dark.

Similarly, you need to let the climax linger just long enough to offer catharsis without boring everyone. This is the height of the tension, so keep it fast but thorough.

The summit isn't the end of the journey.

Many people rush to the climax and then spend almost no time wrapping things up, which makes the story feel incomplete. While the downclimb doesn't need to last as long as the summit push, you should still devote a chapter or two to the falling action, which may have its own dangers.

Characters must be changed by their time on Plot Mountain.

No one comes back from Chomolungma without changing. Maybe they have a renewed sense of purpose or a better appreciation for life. Maybe they have made friends, discovered themselves, gained better skills.

Or maybe they lost some toes while up there. Or lost a friend.

Whatever you choose, it must be clear that your characters have grown and evolved throughout the course of their story. They need to end up somewhere different internally, even if they are returning right back to base camp.

How to Use the Plot Mountain Method

Here's the major points you'll hit using Plot Mountain. This is a bit of a simplification, of course, because technically Camp 3 is in the Death Zone (above 26,247 feet), but look, we're fiction writers, not mountaineers.

Base Camp

This is the exposition, where you tell us a bit about the characters, the world, etc.

Base Camp -> ABC

We have a sense of momentum, that something is building up, but don't quite know what it is.

Advance Base Camp

The inciting event, where the character understands what is happening and must choose to accept or refuse. If they accept, they head up to North Col. If they refuse, well, you're going to push them up there.

ABC -> North Col

The first challenge (and the first chance to turn back). This is a sobering moment that impresses upon them that they are in peril, but it's not as risky as the next steps. If they came there against their will, this is when they start to get more committed and aren't refusing quite so much.

North Col

The first downtime. We learn more about the characters and get a better idea of the problem, but don't have all the details yet. Characters may still be a little delusional about what is happening. There may still be some resistance.

North Col -> Camp 2

The second challenge, which offers different dangers. The characters have faced difficulty now and have a better understanding of what is at stake. They are older, wiser, and less optimistic.

Camp 2

Characters may be questioning their ability, looking back down toward North Col and wondering if it would be cowardly to leave now. We have a better understanding of the potential dangers and the ramifications of failure.

Camp 2 -> Camp 3

The third challenge. The characters are fully committed and can't walk away. They know what they're going for and refuse to be deterred because they're so close to what they want. The dangers they face now give a taste of what the climax holds for them, impressing upon the readers that something enormous and risky will happen.

Camp 3

We are given a stronger understanding of this plot's full purpose and how it fits into the world. It's a time to stop and reflect on why this is important, what the characters have learned so far, and how their lives will change once they hit the climax.

The Death Zone

The dark before the dawn. Things are at their most difficult, but we're not quite there yet. The tension is extreme, and characters are truly fighting for their lives. They're scared, disoriented, and worn down by the challenges, but still willing to go on. There are no respites and no safe harbors. No one is going to save our characters but themselves.

Summit

Climax. It's fast, but not too fast: we get a chance to soak up what is happening, but we know that it won't last forever. There's a sense of pressure and the need to get out of the line of fire.

Death Zone Revisited

This is an opportunity to demonstrate how tired the characters are and the ramifications of their decisions. Things still feel fragile and dicey. We don't know whether the characters are out of danger just yet.

Camp 3

An opportunity to let the characters rest and reflect. We see the changes that have come about because of the climax and see them differently.

Camp 3 -> Base Camp

There's no need to linger all the way down the falling action; we don't require as much detail because we understand the world. Still, we should get a sense of how the characters navigate this new chapter of their lives and what they have learned.

Base Camp

The finale. It may be triumphant or heartbreaking, depending on what happened at the summit. Muted goodbyes, happy reunions, bittersweet reflection, and a sense that the characters are moving on with a better understanding of themselves.

And that's about it. You can add camps if you need to, or have little biovacs if your characters get stuck somewhere. You can find good places for description during those downtime moments. There's a lot to do!

I've created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.

The posts I write can sometimes take me hours - they're always intricate, always thoughtful. This one took me about 2.5 hours to complete.

I do this as a labor of love for the writing community, sharing what I have learned from almost 15 years of creative writing.

However, if you'd like to support me, maybe you'll consider buying my book? It's $0.99, which is about 7 cents for each minute you spent reading this post.

9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.

However, there's a problem: Orrinir Relickim, a rough and tough fellow pupil who just can't seem to leave Uileac alone.

The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.

You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution.

If you do purchase my book, don't forget to leave a review!

Reviews are vital for visibility on Amazon and help to support indie authors like me. Whenever you love a book, be sure to let the author know! It's much appreciated.

[goldendoodlerlockerlove]

4, 10, 11, 27!! (took you this long to reblog the thing >:/ but hell yessss ♥️)

Yesss!! Thank you so much for invading my ask box, DT!!❣️

4.) How many different styles/mediums (e.g., digital art, traditional art, comics, sculptures, paper craft, etc.) did you try this year?

Actually, quite a bit!! At least, more than I initially thought I did. I, of course, did mostly digital art near the end of this year, and ended up producing a lot more pieces than I've done before!! It was honestly kind of crazy how much art I began producing at the end of this year. It was like I was a driver in a race, pffffffft. But, at the beginning of this year, I dabbled a lot in traditional art, because I enjoy the feeling of putting a pencil to paper, and whilst it takes more time, sometimes it can give you more freedom to experiment with designs or expressions. I also began making a long-form Bob's Burgers comic for the first time, which was inspired by @bluebirbbs and their long-form Bob's Burgers comic, which everyone should read if they haven't already. When I was younger and in art class, I actually used even more mediums for creating art, like sewing an actual Christmas ornament, and sketching stuff using a lightbox, which is super fun. But I haven't done those two things in years. I kind of want to try doing them again someday.

10.) What inspired/motivated you this year?

DT, you know I'm going to say you as my first (and biggest :3) inspiration. I mean, come on, you're the reason I have this blog in the first place. I know I've said it before, but seeing your amazing, lovely BB art inspired me to begin making my own and get back into drawing, and it caused me to create my blog and expand it into territories I didn't even think were possible. And now I'm running Geneuary, an event celebrating my favorite baby boy, and that would never have happened if it hadn't been for you, and that initial Boblin ask I somehow worked up the courage to give you (and am so glad I did)! It doesn't show it anymore, but do you remember how I didn't even have an image for my account?? 😆

Yes, I'm getting super sappy, but all of this is true!! Now, of course, you weren't my only inspiration. There are too many blogs to name, but @br1ghtestlight has been super sweet and my Gene Belcher buddy!! He's the one person who loves the baby boy as much as I do. We may or may not do a collab for Geneuary based on an idea she had about Gene and Tina working on a lil' puzzle together, which is just too adorable 😭

I also must shout out @babsvibes too. She was also, in a way, the reason I even have this blog. I used to be content enjoying this silly Burger show on my own, watching the episodes and having fun, and reading the occasional fanfic (@thisaliennerd and their Boblin fanfic Falling For You is Easy [Like Sunday Morning]) was one of my first forays into the BB fanfic community, and it wonderful) when I suddenly stumbled upon this Tinimmy fic by Babs one fateful day called Honeycombed Hair, I believe: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44413795

This fic led me to you, DT, and your amazing art!! And I joined this incredible Muppet community, and nothing's been the same for me ever since. Now I don't have to enjoy this show alone!! Of course, I have my BF @cryptidchrome now, who watches the show, but I digress. Babs also invited me to the Louigan server, which has been an absolute blast. And she's just an excellent writer in general, which is very inspiring as someone who also writes.

I must also shoutout @theangrypomeranian for being so sweet and Commissioning me, and also being an excellent writer (she called me the #1 Gene person in this fandom and that made me so 🥺). And @devilh0rnsinc for having such lovely art that it makes me squee every time. And @jimmypesto for making the best Boblin fics and just being the ultimate Boblin connoisseur. Shoutout to her new nephew for being the most adorable bambino on the entire planet. Welcome to the world, lil' bean!! @jimmyjrsmusoems is another fantastic writer and is hilarious, and is the other Tinimmy connoisseur in this fandom, besides you, DT, of course. Also, @koko-raccoon has some of the cutest art ever and listened to me ramble about my OCs, which I definitely want to thank them for. Their art is very inspiring to me. But the person whose art is the most inspiring to me, besides yours, DT, is probably @dianadeadwing. Her art is wonderful, and I'll never get enough of it. I also get so excited whenever I see it.

Okay, now for more of a speed round so I can mention more people!! @ratguy-nico has adorable art as well, and I love his style so much. It's wonderful. And @ltwharfy is such a good writer and I didn't even know until I read his Roudise Week fic about Bob and Rudy getting Louise a new hat when she outgrows her bunny ears. @keepyourhornson-spyro is another fantastic writer and is the certified Tedmort Monarch. There are just so many more people I want to name, but I'll just mention one more person: @carnivaldemon, who gave me the most adorable art of Gene and my OC, Alexis. His art is truly inspiring to me.

11.) What pairing/character/subject did you create the most for this year?

You probably already know the answer to this ☠️

It's definitely a tie between Boblin and Gene/Alexis, which is definitely my newest ship and obsession. But I have to give Boblin a special shoutout because I began work on an entire Pre-Canon Boblin series (which I'm still working on to this day) and a "Linda is Deaf" AU, both of which are super close to my heart now. Thank you for giving me the push I needed to work on my "Linda is Deaf" AU when I sent that ask about it to you, pfffffft.

Gene is definitely the character I've created the most for in terms of just singular characters. I could talk about him all day. I love this lil' guy so much. Hopefully, y'all don't get bored of hearing me ramble about him, because I'll certainly never get bored of rambling about him.

27.) Biggest surprise while creating art this year?

Honestly, the biggest surprise was just how sweet, supportive, and welcoming the Bob's Burgers community ended up being. Y'all welcomed me with open arms and supported all of my creative endeavors (and long analyses about Gene) and for that, I'll always be grateful. This community really does feel like one big family, and it's so lovely to see. Everyone is just so nice to each other, it warms my heart 🥹 And one of my biggest surprises was learning about the Ship Weeks/Character Events, and how fun they are. They're truly a testament to how sweet and talented this community is. I'm definitely looking forward to them all next year if they happen again.

[havockingboo]

Grrrhrhrr I love ur art so much I wanna put it under my pillow

Also what's monkey wrench? 👁

WEEE THANK YOU BONES

And oh?

Well well well i’m SOOOO GLAD YOU ASKED my dear friend.

Monkey Wrench is an indie animation cartoon created by Zeurel, an amazing animator that came from newgrounds and is known mainly for his vinesauce animation!! Monkey Wrench story focuses on a team of two mercenaries: ‘Beebs’ and Shrike Sánchez! The series followings them on their many merc adventures in *space*!

YES this wonderful little cartoon is a sci-fi adventure FILLED WITH ACTION PACKED SEQUENCED AND INCREDIBLE ANIMATION it’s humorous!! It’s got witty and dumb humor that makes me laugh!

Not convinced enough yet? Did you know there’s gonna be a whole lotta LORE to be seen? Little hints and puzzle pieces in dialogue and scenes that says “oh? well isn’t That interesting hmm??” So far there’s only 2 episodes up on the main youtube channel but ITS SO SO GOOD!! It’s Zeurel’s and NeatoTito (the lovely co-creator and writer of the series✨) first series that they’ve just put out into the world!! They’re learning along the way of how to make each episode better than the last and MAAAN me being the animation fan i am, I just love seeing this series just being made!! In real time!!

But whew ahah yeah!! It’s a show worth watching!

If you love space hi-jinks, charming and lovable characters, ANIMATION, unique character designs, Action!! And a story driven show—then this little web series should be on your watchlist!

And heeeey if you got a few bucks to spare toooo, this show ain’t easy to make! Like anything else, it costs a whole lotta moola!! Money!! There’s a link in the description of the video to the Monkey Wrench patreon and let me tell you as a patreon myself there—it’s worth every penny man.

If you want to support a small indie animation like this one, or just wanna see more of this show like behind the scenes! heck! even get your name in the credits, go on and throw a buck! They need all the support they can get! (This of course if you’re able to!! Support the show any means as you can!! By spreading the word or just watching it over and over haha!)

Soooo in short!!

Watch Monkey Watch 🔧

(I need more episodes guys PLEASE)

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Scarlett Gale

We are sloooowly creeping up on being 2/3rds funded on the crowdfunding campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary, an anthology of 17 stories by queer authors starring non-binary main characters in aetherpunk settings! It’ll definitely be a relief when we hit that wonderful 100%. Don’t forget to share Aether Beyond the Binary with friends who you think might be interested in the project!

Head on over to our Kickstarter Campaign page NOW to learn waaaay more about this project, and read on to get to know Scarlett Gale, read an interview with her, and check out an excerpt from her contribution!

About Scarlett Gale: Scarlett Gale is the author of His Secret Illuminations and His Sacred Incantations. Long ago, under another name, she was the co-author of Needles and Artifice (Cooperative Press; 2012), featuring a rollicking romantic steampunk adventure novella and associated knitting patterns, of which she also designed several. She writes and produces fringe theatre plays based on B-movies, such as Bodacious Barbarian Babes vs. The Indigo Empress and Showgirls of Beast Island. She is a co-producer of the Alison-Bechdel-approved Bechdel Test Burlesque, which in 2017 was included in the Women and Gender Studies curriculum at the University of Oregon. She lives in Seattle with her wife where she gardens, knits, reads, and drinks warm beverages. Unsurprisingly, she also has cats.

Links: Personal Website | Tumblr | Bluesky

This is Scarlett’s second time contributing to a Duck Prints Press anthology. A short story by her was also included in our debut anthology Add Magic to Taste. Learn more about Scarlett’s other published works.

An Interview with Scarlett Gale

What motivates you to create?

Spite and love in equal measure.

What are your goals as a creator?

To make the world a kinder, hornier place one story at a time.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I suppose Planster is the best description, though I think that makes me sound more like someone who has a lot of plants (she says, sitting next to a glass cabinet full of houseplants). For my longer works I usually start with a vibe and a general idea of the arc and write with no real outline until I’m about two-thirds through the story, at which point I will sit down and roughly bullet point the scenes I still want to write, arrange them into story order, and use that as a reference to finish the piece. Why when I’m two-thirds through? Because at that point I’ve had enough Shower Ideas that if I don’t document them somewhere, I risk forgetting to put them in, and my Shower Ideas are the most inspired parts of my writing!

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

Wordcount. Good god, wordcount. I am the rare writer who can just sit down at a computer and bang out several hundred words in twenty minutes without second-guessing myself or worrying if the words are good enough. This makes me simultaneously the best and worst person to have in your writering group.

What do you consider to be your weaknesses as a creator?

Also wordcount. I think every story I’ve submitted to the Press has started out two thousand words above the limit, which means we have to do sooooo much editing. Goodbye, my beautiful words!

Do you like having background noise when you create? What do you listen to? Does it vary depending on the project, and if so, how?

Yes! It makes writing feel less lonely, since I do a lot of it only accompanied by my cats. I listen to music at a medium to low volume that either has no lyrics, or lyrics in a language I don’t speak so I don’t get distracted by the words. I actually bought the cheapest Pandora subscription specifically for writing music. My favorite stations are:

Lofi Chill

Bonobo*

Mikel & Gamechops 

Radio Asian Kung-Fu Generation (a recent addition)

*Fun story about the group Bonobo: The morning after our wedding, my whole family crowded into our tiny house to watch us open our wedding gifts. I had given my siblings control over distributing the drink tickets, which meant that after they handed them out to the guests, they used the remaining tickets to get SPECTACULARLY plastered, and were thus deeply hungover. My wife made loads of coffee while everyone grazed on the catering leftovers, and in the interest of creating a calming atmosphere, we put on a Bonobo album. Everyone liked the music, to the point that they repeatedly asked the name of the group, which meant my wife and I kept repeating, with increasing exasperation, “BONOBO!! LIKE THE MONKEY!!!!” It is my primary memory of that morning.

What are your favorite snacks and/or drinks to consume while creating?

Remember to eat? While I’m writing?? You think I’m sensible or something?! (I enjoy a cup of tea, either green, decaf black, or herbal, depending on the time of day.)

Tell us about your pet(s).

We currently have three cats: CeeCee, Matcha, and Gyoza. CeeCee (the Lady Catherine the Purr) is our most recent addition from March of 2023. She’s a fifteen year old scrungly tiny black goblin who knows exactly what she wants out of life: Food, sippies from the bathroom sink, belly rubs, and shoulder rides. If we are not providing any of these at the speed she would prefer, she screams at us. She’s PERFECT.

Matcha is an eight-pound calico brat with the sass of at least four cats crammed into her tiny body. Her favorite things in life are causing trouble and rubbing her face on my hands when I’m trying to write.

Gyoza is a sixteen pound gray tabby with the physical properties of a water balloon full of pudding. He loves to try to “play” with Matcha, which results in her screaming like she’s being murdered. His other favorite thing to do is play in the toilet and then come step on us with his wet toilet feet, because he’s the worst.

Please enjoy this festive photo of the three of them that I had to photoshop from three individual photos, since all of them hate each other.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Always take the opportunity to use the restroom when it’s available to you. Solid life advice applicable to any situation, really!

What’s the worst advice you’ve ever received?

I had a Jimmy John’s delivery guy tell me I should lie to people and say my fire-engine-red hair was natural, does that count? (I stared him down blankly long enough that he spontaneously apologized.)

If you could give one piece of advice to a new creator who came to you for help, what would that advice be?

Just write it. You can fix the words once they’re on the page, but excessive planning and worrying and worldbuilding won’t help you if you don’t write the words. Just write it! Let it be bad! Fix it in post! Write the damn thing!!!

What’s one thing (style, genre, etc.) that you think you’ll never do, and why not?

Write the type of fantasy book that has a map in the front and a glossary of terms, only because I personally am not motivated to do that level of worldbuilding. I appreciate the people who want to do that, but I guarantee that as a reader I will skip the map and then probably the glossary in order to get to the STORY, which tells you where my priorities lie.

Scarlett’s Contribution to Aether Beyond The Binary

Title: N(ae)ghbours

Tags: attraction at first sight, bisexual, city mouse and country mouse, competence kink, didn’t know they were dating, f/nb, farmer, first kiss, genderfluid, getting together, humor, idiots to lovers, meet cute, misgendering (unintentional), omg they were neighbors, panic attacks (mentions of), present tense, self-esteem issues, third person limited pov

Excerpt:

“But you were going to tell me what you’re researching?”

Ah. Well. “This might be boring and hard to explain.”

Rin waves a fork at the breakfast spread between them. “You have at least five pancakes’ worth of time. Hit me.”

Dahlia takes a steadying sip of tea. She explains about greenhouses and other protected growing areas for delicate crops, and the advantages and disadvantages of using them on a large scale. She explains that her family has a small greenhouse for starts, but most of their land is open-air, which means they get the advantages that come with that, but also the issues—they’re at the mercy of the weather, insects, birds…

Or they would be if not for the aether tunnel.

“It’s like a hoop house,” Dahlia explains, pulling up a photo of a hoop house on her phone to show Rin. “Normally, you cover the frame with mesh, or clear bio-plastic if you’re trying to trap the heat and control the amount of water it gets, but…”

“That’d rip right off in a big storm, right? And how do you get in there when you need to do plant stuff?”

(don't forget to check out the campaign, now that you've read to the end!)

[arcticsilver]

NEW BIG BOY INTRO

How many I'll do? That's for time to decide

Information

Hello, Hi, I'm Silver! Silly little artist guy that is constantly creating! I cosplay, draw, write, game, and more! I'm 19 and taken by my wonderful honey biscuit @its-fucking-draggo

Dos!

Interact in any way you feel comfortable! I'm not much for learning algorithms so if it gets out to you and you enjoy, that's all I hope for.

Feel free to redraw my designs! I love seeing interpretations however I do ask you credit me ^^;

Be kind, I'm fairly sensitive to negative comments however I don't mind criticism as long as you state that beforehand!

Use tone tags! If the tone is questionable, use tone tags

/j(joke)

/srs(serious)

/gen(genuine)

/pos(positive)

/neg(negative)

/lh(light hearted)

Credit me when showing my work! This also means don't use it for AI or you may have an unpleasant surprise...

Don'ts

Steal my work! Obviously dont edit out my signature(i sometimes forget so if you notice theres no "JJ Art" signature let me know please) and if I was an inspiration in writing or cosplay please credit me!

Don't bring up shit about CC!Wilbur/William, I'm fairly triggered by it because I'm a S/A Survivor to someone who used manipulation to keep me quiet

If you know where I live due to being a fellow cosplayer, please for the love of fuck don't dox my exact location(I do constantly state I'm a Texan critter so that's fine)

Do not color over my work to make it some other character or make fun of the character used in a /gen/neg way... I know this sounds silly but I've seen this happen to other artists and it's very disrespectful to the work they've put into it

Don't compare my work to yours(if you're an artist, cosplayer, or writer) whether your more or less experienced, I do not want to hear anything negative about your work or mine in that sense, as said before, critiques are fine but do not give criticism that cannot be fixed.

Taglist cus I also need a reminder to use them and what I had set for them

#my love <3 is @its-fucking-draggo

#CatGoBrr is @cats-thoughts

#ryemacncheeze is @ryemackerel

#ChocoStarMilk is @starrixle

#septiccesarsalad is @septic-salad

#vinegarjesus is @someone-named-rod

#pastelcucurucho is @pastelpurpled

#emilibrarian is @emi-writings

#jaybringsjoy is @jayysnotjoyful

#lilwarvet is my cat Mei Mei

#lilshitpooper is my cat Pearl

#weirdlookinsquirrel is my cat Susu

#hotdogdoggo is my dog Piper

#jaysmp - a silly little smp I'm on :3

#anon - will be used for anonymous asks or requests

#reply! - is for user asks or requests

#ArcticSilver / #art / #animation / #writing - Past works may or may not be actually what they are because but should be finished works in the future

#art help / #animation help / #writing help - I use it for helping me decide how I'm gonna get there but in the past I've used the ones above ^^;

#personal reblog - something i want y'all to look at again that's already on this blog or look at that was posted on my reblog account

Links

Main Carrd

Tumblr centric carrd

[divinecomedyproductions]

RWBY AU: Looking for talent for a think tank!

"Moved with music--measureless the waves'  Joy and jubilee. It is JOVE's orbit,

Filled and festal, faster turning  With arc ampler.

From the Isles of Tin  Tyrian traders, in trouble steering 

Came with his cargoes; the Cornish treasure  That his ray ripens.

Of wrath ended  And woes mended, of winter passed  And guilt forgiven, and good fortune 

Jove is master; and of jocund revel,  Laughter of ladies. The lion-hearted,  The myriad-minded, men like the gods,  Helps and heroes, helms of nations  Just and gentle, are Jove's children,  Work his wonders.

On his white forehead  Calm and kingly, no care darkens 

Nor wrath wrinkles: but righteous power  And leisure and largess their loose splendours  Have wrapped around him--a rich mantle  Of ease and empire." - CS Lewis, The Planets

Once there was a world by the name of Omnibus. Created by the supreme deity The Author Allfather through the mysterious entity The Storyteller who brought in people from The Other World to inhabit and are whom the humans and Faunus are descended.

Omnibus was composed of four holy and mighty kingdoms, ruled by The Storyteller's Patron Saints whose reign protected the people, human and faunus alike, with their mighty armies and hunters from barbarian hordes, and the hordes of The Grimm who were the blight of the world and extensions of the will of the fallen being Grimmel The Black and his fellow fallen angels

In the dreadful world-shattering war of Ragnarök, the glorious age of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty, and the days of Romance, Heroism Adventure, and Eucatastrophe came to a tragic end.

Now all that remains is the world that is Remnant

But there is a prophecy made by Ozma The First Time Wizard before his death, that one day the bloodlines of the original Patron Saints and the families betrothed to them will return to take up these powers, rally armies of the righteous, vanquish the darkness and restore the holy kingdoms and Omnibus and reign over them once more.

Sinners will become Saints

Curses will be broken

Legends shall be restored and new Legends will be born

And what was a Remnant, Shall Be Whole Again.

But until then, the Hunters lead a struggling battle against the Grimm while the modern kingdoms suffer under corruption of all kinds, both to the benefit of darker forces who have horrifying intentions for the world.

Cue Ruby Rose and her older half-sister Yang Xiao Long, they are about to enter Beacon Academy after being approved by the eccentric Professor Ozpin Pine along with the heiress Weiss Schnee and the introverted faunus Blake Belladonna forming team RWBY

Ozpin has also enrolled a few other students and transferred others.

The former forming team JNPR, and the latter being Team SSSN of Haven Academy

Ozpin seems to have his eye on all of them, but what for?

Inspired by CS Lewis's works, The Chronicles of Narnia and The Ransom Trilogy,

The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and That Hideous Strength in particular, as well as the book Planet Narnia by Michael Ward(which I highly recommend to all Narnians)

This reimagined RWBY AU takes the world of Remnant, puts it into the Narnia multiverse, new directions with it's ideas and concepts to tell a different story

A story of faith, hope, courage, re-enchantment, the passing of the sorrowful winter and the coming of the joyous summer.

I'm working on this project, and as I have many ideas and a big picture, I am stumped. So I'm opening a think tank!

Looking for writers

editors

Artists(character, vehicle, background, and architecture designs, concepts, scenes, weapons, etc.)

The format will be a visual format, and audio drama with static images akin to Fixing RWBY by Celtic Pheonix, something akin to a visual novel if that's a good comparison

This project is rated PG-13 for It will have intense violence, brief strong language, partial nudity, and mild drug and alcohol use.

All who apply will be given access to my discord.

Audition for me either with the link if you have a CastingCallClub Account or DM me here on Tumblr!