#but the context for the name change is like

[hoonstrology]

i saw you were looking for asks!! how would error 404 sunghoon react to sleeping with reader for the first time? i don't mean sleeping as in sex but like he's over at her place or vice versa and they sleep in the same bed. or what if one of them struggles to sleep and is constantly moving too in the bed lol

＃ surprise sleepover .ᐟ

��  ⤷  ꒰ an e404-boyfriend!sunghoon drabble. ꒱

⤷  can be read as a stand-alone. ┆ for context, read e404 here! ⤷  contains — 1.4k words. suggestive content. (mdni.) est. relationship. loser bf!sunghoon. (we cheered!) kind-of-perv!hoon comeback. fluff. not proofread. ⤷ main masterlist.  ┆ series masterlist.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ reblogs and replies are highly appreciated! 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

the most you two have done was kiss.

sure, sunghoon's hands wandered to the curve of your ass or to your inner thigh during especially steamy make-out sessions, but you've never actually done the deed. 

not yet, at least.

so when you told him to stay over for the night for the first time ever, he froze in the middle of packing his bag.

eyes wide, half bent down, hand clutching on a book to ground himself.

he'd like to think that he's been a respectful boyfriend. though your friendship has lasted for more than a year, your relationship was still fragile. young. barely 3 months old. 

you've never asked for anything more than a kiss, and he never crossed that line despite dreaming of what it would be like on the other side. 

maybe tonight would change that.

"so is that a yes?" you half-shout from your bedroom, footsteps pattering on the wooden floor and your bare face peeking out from behind the door frame.

"huh?" 

"i said you should just stay over tonight." you spoke like it was just a casual offer. like it wasn't making sunghoon's heart rattle inside his ribs. 

because at the end of the day, he's just a man. one full of hormones— of need. 

"w-why?" his voice came out like that of a kid who doesn't know whether he's getting rewarded or punished. and that's pretty much how it is right now. 

"are you crazy? i'm not going to make you drive through the storm. auntie would kill me." you laughed, sauntering over to gently lay a stack of clothes on the coffee table.

oh. 

oh, okay. 

you didn't want sex, you were just making sure your boyfriend stayed safe. 

right. 

"my brother left some of his clothes here. i'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind if you borrowed it for a night." 

you stepped out of your bathroom door in an adorable pajama set to see sunghoon running his fingers through his freshly dried hair. you didn't even notice he was wearing jeonghan's clothes because they look so different on him. 

the gray wife-beater was a tighter fit, making his muscular arms look even bigger than how they feel whenever you held them. and the gray sweatpants were hung low on his hips, showing you just a sliver of his smooth and fair skin.

good lord did he look like sin personified.

if only he didn't look so goofy with his back practically pressed against the wall.

"what are you doing?" you asked.

"i... uh— i was waiting.. i was— w-where's the spare blanket?" he stammered, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

"what for?" 

"for the couch?" 

"why would you put a blanket on a couch?" 

“angel, it’s for me.”

"i thought it was for the couch?” 

"no, i mean— i’m gonna use it when i sleep there."

no one spoke while you two exchanged befuddled looks. 

"you have to be insane." you finally scoffed, pulling him towards your bed and grunting out his name when you felt him resisting. eventually, you managed to push him to lie down on your bed, throwing the duvet over his body and pointing a finger.

"you'll sleep here. with me. understood?"

he meekly nodded, flashing you those damn puppy eyes that you know could guarantee him a way out of any crime— and you almost gave in. but you turned around to dry your hair, replacing the silence with the loud wheeze of your blower. 

he's been in your bedroom. he ate chinese takeouts with you on the floor, has sat on this same vanity seat, and napped on the same damn bed stomach down on multiple occasions. 

for him to even imply that you'll let him sleep on your cheap couch was a blow to your sunghoon-loving ego. 

the linen-colored walls turned a shade warmer from the soft glow of your lamp after you turned off the big lights. you head to bed and closed your eyes, letting the song of rain and rumbling thunder lull you to sleep. 

but you're only afforded a few minutes of true rest when you feel your body dip from your boyfriend shifting. 

a few more minutes and then another one. 

again.

you heard another squeak and you’ve had enough.

you sat up and sighed, arms crossed over your chest. "have you never slept over a girl's house before?" 

"what? of course i have!" he's laid on your sheets, blanket covering his lower half, brows furrowing at your words like you've accused him of murder. “i don’t mean to brag but i’ve slept in a lot of girl’s houses.”

you snort. "okay, mister popular. why are you so antsy then?" 

"'m not." 

"sunghoon." you flashed him a look and he sighs, pulling the blanket up higher to cover half his face, grumbling. "i don't know. it's my first time sharing a bed with you... it feels weird. in a good way. but also in a weird way." 

how your boyfriend can switch from looking like an irritated sex god to an absolute cute fluff ball within a second is beyond you.

you wanted to snap back but he’s always been a very sentimental person, always caring for the firsts he shared with you, always cooing when you let him in on new information about yourself. 

it does nothing but make your voice soften.

"baby, it's fine. you don’t have to be nervous. it's not like we're gonna fuck."

he’s quiet but you felt the bed dip when he squirmed, and suddenly, it all made sense. 

"oh my god. you thought we were going to fuck when i asked you to sleep over, didn't you?" you say with a wicked smirk tugging on a corner of your lips. 

"n-no!" 

"you totally did!" 

he narrowed his eyes at you and clicked his tongue, his body bouncing a little as he turns around to face the wall with a huff. you can’t help but chuckle at his childishness. you laid down again, wrapping your arms around him from behind, chin hooked on his shoulder before pressing a kiss on the soft skin of his neck.

“you've been thinking about that all night, huh?”

"angel, ask any man my age what 'stay over for the night' means and they'll all say the same shit i would." he sighed. 

you let out a loud laugh, your hand resting over his abdomen to give it a pat. "i'm sorry if i gave you that impression, my love." you muttered, tracing shapes on the thinly clothed skin before hugging him tighter.

he relished the feeling of being the little spoon— a first, among the many firsts you’ve taken from him. the warm lamps you had adorning your room was no match for the naturality of the one he gets from your touch. but your apology made the loving hold you had on him feel a little too suffocating. 

sunghoon turned around to look at you with an expression you’ve grown familiar with: guilt. 

he wrapped you around his arms, bringing your head to his chest so he could press a kiss on your hair. “don’t be sorry, angel. i should be the one apologizing. you don’t owe me anything, mm? if you want to take your time before wanting to do… it with me,—” he clears his throat. “then i’ll be fine waiting.”

you leaned back and stretched just enough for you to place a peck on the corner of his lips. “i’m not opposed to doing it right now," you mock. "but it’s so cozy and warm like this. i like being held by you. makes me feel fuzzy.” 

you giggled and did a little restrained dance in his hold. you let your head rest on his bicep, letting out a soft sigh as you snuggled against him further, tangling your legs with his and whispered a soft ‘i love you’ before closing your eyes.

the words, no matter how much time has passed or how much they’ve been repeated, still made his cheeks warm.

sunghoon softened, squeezing you in his hold and returned the same words to you, sealing it with a kiss on your forehead.

"good night, pengoo."

"good night, my angel."

he decided, at this very moment, that no amount of mind-blowing sex, no amount of intimacy, could make him feel as fulfilled as he does being the one to hold you and keep you safe as you drifted to sleep.

꒰ from ! 🐰 yan ꒱⠀⠀ eep !!! still very new to writing so i'm sorry if this isn't as good. i also dunno if this is what anon meant, but i hope it's good enough. sigh. as much as i love perv!hoon, my heart just beats a little stronger for wholesome loser bf!hoon. (ᵕ—ᴗ—) send your drabble requests in my ask! i'm accepting e404!hoon ideas or just general ideas for any enha members. ♡

⌗ taglist (open) — @zerocoded

© hoonstrology 2025. please don't translate, plagiarize, steal, or repost any of my works.

[jammatown919]

Black Sheep

Zoey and Rumi shield Mira from uncomfortable questions during an interview.

It was rare for Mira to regret a song. She loved making music. She loved planning out the moves that would make the lyrics hit that much harder or emphasize just the right elements. She loved working with her girls, mixing their talents to create the best art they possibly could. 

But by God, she would regret Black Sheep until the day she died. 

Not making it. Working with Zoey to write the lyrics had been therapeutic in its own way, and sitting in the recording booth with Rumi to get the vocals down had made for a genuinely fun afternoon. But had she known the stir it would cause among the fans, she never would've allowed it to be released. 

Already, it lacked the fanfare of most of Huntr/x's discography. It had never been promoted or performed live. It didn't have an official music video. Mira had made it for herself, held onto it for nearly a year, then agreed for it to be quietly released as a bonus track in an album that frankly had no business holding the outlet for all of Mira's mixed-up emotions about her home life. 

The fans had gone wild for it in all the wrong ways. In-depth lyrical analyses prodded at Mira's pain, trying to unravel metaphors that didn't exist to be understood. Online theorists assigned meaning that didn't match reality, deciding on their own who certain lines were directed toward and why. Overnight, Mira had a new identity. The black sheep of her family. The problem child who had run away to become an idol. The dramatic story everyone felt entitled to. 

The kicker was that the song didn't even tell much on its own. While the lyrics alluded to a repressive childhood, failing to meet and eventually breaking free of expectations, they said nothing of the emotional abuse. The silence. The isolation. The threats and ultimatums. Her name scrubbed the family tree the moment she left their house and their lives. 

It was an incomplete puzzle. A story told through heavy metaphor that relied on prior context. The picture would not accurately form for anyone but her just off the lyrics alone. It hadn't been written to be digestible for anyone else. 

But everyone wanted the breakdown. The fans. The press. Everyone. The only thing stopping them from prying her personal life and past wide open was the fact that she'd changed her last name at 18, a solid two years before the formation of Huntr/x, and never told anyone. Her current name drew a blank for anyone scouring the internet for information. No one knew to look for the original, and her blood relations certainly weren't keen on making themselves known. 

The only way to get the full story was from Mira herself, and some were relentless. 

There had been a set of obligatory interviews and television appearances to promote the album as a whole, and at every single one of them, no one could just accept that the song was a personal endeavor not meant to be explained. So, when questioned about Black Sheep, Mira smiled and lied through her teeth. The song was about her experiences as a wild, untamable child. It was a celebration of the coarse attitude that had endeared her to fans. It was about the way she acted, and not the way she'd been treated.

Huntr/x refused appearances for months after the fact, until they had something new to take the attention elsewhere. When they returned, it was with a strict new rule that Bobby enforced like lives depended on it. 

Do NOT ask about Black Sheep. 

But the damage was done. They couldn't very well retract the song; not when it would always be reuploaded somewhere and suddenly deleting all official avenues for listening would only fan the flames. Mira just had to steer clear of certain corners of the internet that would never stop theorizing and accept that the "black sheep" narrative had become a part of her persona. 

That was what she got for trying to be vulnerable in her art. For expecting anyone to not try to take more than she gave them. 

Honestly, she didn't blame people for wondering. She'd invited that by letting the song go public. But she wished they would just leave her alone. 

And they did, eventually. For the most part. 

Years passed. Huntr/x released new, better songs. Two albums, four singles. How It's Done became their best crowd-pleaser. They had an insanely successful world tour. Then Golden, Takedown, and What It Sounds Like dropped in quick succession and suddenly all anyone cared about was Huntr/x's brilliant shared narrative with the Saja Boys, Rumi's "rare skin condition", and whether the latter two songs would officially release with Golden as an EP. 

Black Sheep gradually drifted behind her, even though it had affected the way she presented herself to the world. Even though she still sometimes came across outlandish theories that claimed she'd actually killed her family, or they were all criminals that she'd disowned. Even though sometimes people got it right and guessed that her parents just didn't like her, weren't shy about it, and were probably homophobic too, if the theories about her queerness were to be believed. 

Whenever it upset her, Rumi and Zoey were right there. They were the only ones who knew the whole of it, because they were the only ones who had never pushed for it. Even when helping her to make Black Sheep, they never took more than she gave them, and eventually she'd felt safe enough to let them in. They were the only ones who deserved to know. The only ones who wanted her to talk for her and not for them. 

It was all she'd really wanted out of Black Sheep. For someone to know she was in pain, see her, and listen. Mira wished she'd just kept it within the group. 

But she hadn't, and she was still reaping the consequences over three years later. 

The interview was supposed to be for Huntr/x's latest comeback. Under those hot stage lights, on camera, sandwiched between Rumi and the arm of a stiff couch, Mira was supposed to be safe. This interviewer who blended in with the dozens of others she'd spoken with over the years could only stray so far from the topic at hand. And yet...

"So, Mira." He leaned forward, flashing her a bright smile. "I'd love to talk about the Golden music video. I found your section very interesting. How do your parents feel about your portrayal of them?"

Mira's eye twitched. Beside her, Rumi seemed to sit up a little straighter. 

"Golden isn't really about anyone else in our lives," she replied smoothly. "It's about our experiences and how they made us feel. My part isn't about my parents. It's about not fitting in as a kid."

"That's right!" Zoey added, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Mine is really similar. Growing up with two cultures and two homes and not really fitting into either of them."

"Yes. Golden is about finding our place in the world," Rumi finished with a perfect, polished smile. Mira shot them both a grateful look. 

Unfortunately, this guy either couldn't take a hint or simply didn't care to. 

"But this is the first time you've shown your family in any of your work." 

"Well, that wasn't actually my family. They were hired actors for the video." Mira did her best to keep her voice even. "My family are very private people."

"And they're still alright with being the subjects of your music?" the interviewer pressed on. "If I recall correctly, this isn't the first time you've sung about them. A few years ago, you released a song called Black Sheep."

Oh, Bobby was going to kill someone for that, provided Mira didn't beat him to it. But she couldn't call out this violation of terms on camera. She could only deflect to the best of her ability. 

"Black Sheep is a deeply personal song," she said, her fists clenching in her lap. "A lot of people make assumptions about what it means."

Whatever the interviewer meant to say next never made it out of his mouth. Mira didn't know whether it was the motion or Rumi's sharp gasp that caught her attention. All she knew was that one second, she was answering a series of uncomfortable questions, and the next Zoey was pitching forward off the couch like a ragdoll.

She hit the floor with an echoing thud. For a moment, everybody was frozen. Waiting to see if she'd get up and laugh it off. Poke fun at her own clumsiness. Lament the meme that her tumble was bound to become. She didn't move. 

"Zoey!" Rumi slid off the couch beside her, and the entire room erupted into chaos. 

Someone screamed at someone else to cut the camera. Crew began scrambling; some to attend to Zoey and some to handle the footage. Bobby came sprinting out from somewhere backstage. The interviewer stared, dumbfounded. 

"Holy shit." Mira didn't even remember getting up. She simply appeared at Zoey's side, heart beating fast, grabbing for her shoulder. "Zo? Zo?!"

Rumi waved off people attempting to crowd them, allowing only Bobby and some random guy with a bottle of water to get close. By the time anybody had their wits about them to consider calling an ambulance, Zoey was beginning to move again. Her eyes flicked around, taking in the pandemonium. 

"Hey, Zoey," Rumi said gently. "You're okay, sweetie. We've got you. The cameras are off."

Zoey immediately began trying to sit up, but Mira wouldn't let her. She guided the smaller girl back down, offering her lap as a pillow. 

"Don't get up," she murmured, a wave of relief sweeping over her. 

"I'm alright," Zoey insisted, admittedly sounding pretty steady for someone who had just been dead weight on the floor. 

"You just fainted." Mira whispered to her. "Take a minute, okay?"

Bobby took the water bottle, cracked it open, and knelt down to offer it to Zoey. "You might have gotten a little dehydrated. Were you feeling sick? Dizzy?"

"I guess." Zoey took a few slow sips of water as Mira guided the bottle to her mouth. When she was done, she glanced at the crowd of onlookers and said, "can we go back to the green room?"

Mira glanced at Rumi, unsure. Rumi gave her a quick nod, and the two of them took Zoey by the arms to help her to her feet. No one stopped them as they made their way offstage, Bobby trailing a few steps behind. 

When she noticed him, Rumi called over her shoulder, "we've got her. Can you handle things out here?"

He gave her a dutiful nod and turned back around to face the chaos they'd left behind. 

Both Rumi and Mira kept an arm around Zoey the whole way, trying to take as much of her weight as possible, but she didn't seem to need it. She carried herself perfectly fine all the way to the green room, then flopped down on a plush sofa in much the same manner as she always did. 

"How are you feeling now?" Mira asked, taking a seat beside her. 

"Oh, I'm fine," Zoey replied cheerfully. "I was pretending."

"What?!" Mira stared at her, bewildered and a little upset. "Why?! You scared the shit out of us!" 

Zoey gave her an awkward grin, her expression sheepish but not exactly sorry. Rumi answered for her. 

"It was to get you out of answering that question," she said. "Neither of us wanted to let that guy keep grilling you."

"Did you know she was faking?" Mira demanded. 

"I suspected," Rumi replied. "She gave me this look right before she fell."

Mira let out a long, slow sigh. If she really thought about, she supposed this was the best-case scenario. At least her girlfriend hadn't actually passed out mid-interview, and she supposed the gesture in itself was kind of sweet. Still...

"You faked a medical emergency to get me out of answering an uncomfortable question?"

Zoey nodded slowly. "I just thought it might take the attention off you and they would forget about it. They shouldn't have asked about Black Sheep at all, but we couldn't say anything, so-"

"Honey, I love you for that," Mira said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "but please never scare me like that again. I thought something was really happening to you."

"I'm sorry..." Zoey hit her with those big, adorable, apologetic eyes, and Mira couldn't help but kiss her forehead in return. 

"It's okay," she murmured. "Thank you for trying to help, but you guys don't need to do stuff like that. I can handle myself. It's my fault anyway for releasing that song. I basically invited people to ask."

"You never wanted to release it," Rumi chimed in quietly. "Celine and I convinced you. It was supposed to be yours."

"Babe-"

The door suddenly opened behind them, and a meek-looking woman from the crew poked her head in. 

"Is everything alright?" she asked. "Everyone is very concerned."

"We're fine," Mira replied as she stood. "Zoey was just dehydrated and overheated from the stage lights. You might want to talk to someone about not having them so close."

"O-of course," the woman stammered. "But, if you're all okay, we were wondering if we could finish up the interview? Or at least get that last question answered."

Mira's jaw tightened. Concerned. What a joke. For their show, maybe. Not for the performer that, as far as everyone else knew, had just blacked out and cracked her head on the stage. 

"You can't be serious," Rumi said lowly, a vaguely familiar glint in her eye. A look she typically reserved for threats and not crew members that had probably drawn the short straw to be the one to come in here and make this request. 

"It would only take a few minutes," the woman insisted. "She won't have to answer any more questions. We just want to get Mira's response for-"

"No one is answering anything else," Rumi declared as she strode forward. "Questions about Black Sheep are off-limits, and if you seriously expect us to put Zoey back on that stage right now, you're dreaming."

The woman shrank back under Rumi's scathing gaze, and Mira almost felt a little bad for her. Or, would have, had she not kept going. 

"It's just... the network, and-"

"The network doesn't come before my girls," Rumi growled. 

Literally. Teeth bared and everything. Her fangs hadn't popped out yet, but Mira could tell they were close. 

"Babe..." Mira warned, because they absolutely did not need the PR disaster of Rumi going feral on a random member of a tv crew behind the scenes. 

Rumi, though she didn't seem particularly happy about it, took a deep, steadying breath as she prepared to level with the woman. 

"Look," she said, "I know you're just doing your job, but please tell your higher-ups that we are not going back out there. One of my girls is sick, and the other was getting questioned on a topic I'm sure our manager communicated was not to be brought up. This interview is over, and at this rate, I don't think there's going to be another one."

"I-"

"We would appreciate some privacy now." Rumi's cold, flat tone finally seemed to seal the matter. The woman nodded, looking more than a little unsettled, and fled the room. 

"That was kind of hot," Zoey said as soon as the door closed. 

"Extremely hot," Mira agreed. "But seriously, you guys don't have to do all this to protect me."

"Of course we do." Rumi seemed offended at the very suggestion of the contrary. Mira let out a small sigh. 

"It's not your fault I released the song," she insisted. "You don't have to make it up to me or protect me from the consequences. You don't owe me anything, okay? You don't need to make a scene or risk your reputation for me."

"It's not about owing things or whose fault it was," Rumi said sternly. 

More gently, Zoey added, "we just want you to feel safe out there. You shouldn't have to go through that."

"It's what we do." Rumi stepped closer and gently cupped Mira's face with one hand. "We protect you because you're ours. We love you."

At that, something within Mira began to slowly crack open. When Zoey stood up and wrapped them both up in her arms, the dam broke, and she suddenly burst into tears. Not because she wasn't used to them holding her or telling her that they loved her, but because they were claiming her. Calling her theirs. 

She knew she was, and had for a long time, but for it to be said so plainly and matter-of-factly did something for that little girl in Mira's heart that would have done anything for someone not to be ashamed to say she was theirs. To come to her with it and not make her beg for scraps of affection. To say it even when she pushed back and argued. Even when meaning it meant doing something stupid mid-interview or chasing film crew out of the room. 

"Mira?" Rumi asked, searching her face. 

"Thank you," Mira whimpered. 

"Aww, Mira..." Zoey sounded close to tears herself. She nuzzled into Mira's shoulder, her grip tightening. 

"How about we get out of here?" Rumi began gingerly wiping Mira's tears away. "I'm pretty sure Zoey's stunt just got us the rest of the day off. We could grab something to eat on the way home and have some couch time."

"And maybe go to that boba place you like," Zoey offered. 

Mira wasn't often on the receiving end of the poor baby, don't cry, let's get you some of your favorite thing routine. In fact, she was usually the one setting up turtle videos when Zoey cried or coaxing Rumi out of her room when she was having a bad day. As a rule, she hated crying in front of people. But with these two, it wasn't so bad. 

"Okay." Mira sniffed, took a breath, and blinked a few times. "Okay, that sounds good. But seriously, no more faking medical emergencies."

"Fine," Zoey said, "but can Rumi still growl at people?"

Rumi gave her best charming smile, and Mira scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

"If you want to be known among film crews for growling at people off camera, be my guest," she decided. 

"Good," Rumi replied, satisfied. "Now let's go find some dinner. Your pick."

Grinning, Zoey began to pull them both in the direction of the door. Mira followed readily, chuckling at her excited little bounces. It didn't matter that they were technically ditching the day's schedule, or that the network was probably going to have a meltdown, or that this was almost definitely not going to be the last time someone pried into Mira's past for publicity. 

She didn't care. Right now, with Zoey leading her by one hand and Rumi holding the other, she was right where she belonged. 

------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or buying the writer a coffee!

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Here’s another personal ramble but this time a happy one: I legally changed my name and gender marker today! 

I want to tell you a bit about my journey here. But before we get into that, you may need some context! In case you’re not from Germany, here’s a quick explanation of how the legal stuff works here: 

Until recently, changing your name and gender marker was a complicated, expensive and stressful process. You had to go to court, get evaluated by two psychologists, and jump through a lot of bureaucratic hoops. But as of November 2024, Germany finally has a new law called the Self-Determination Act (Selbstbestimmungsgesetz). 

Under this law, you simply make a declaration at your local registry office (Standesamt), then there’s a mandatory waiting period of three months and then you get the official name change appointment where you just have to confirm by signature that you really want to do it and then you get a new birth certificate! There’s no need for expert reports, medical „proof“ or a court decision anymore.

As someone who has a lot of pre-existing mental health history and not a lot of money, the old system made a legal name change fully inaccessible to me. So this new law is not only a huge step for the trans community in general but also for me personally! 

When it came into effect in November 2024, I wanted to apply right away - but I was in the middle of applying for disability benefits and was advised that a name change in the middle of that process would complicate it, so I had to wait. I’ll admit that it was very hard, emotionally. As happy as I was to see other trans people change their name, I also struggled with some ugly feelings of jealousy. I also kept worrying that, somehow, the law would be rolled back before I get to actually use it (with the lengthy process of fighting for disability benefits and the mandatory waiting period on top of that…) and I’d be stuck with my dead name forever just because I didn’t want to risk complications for my disability benefits application by doing it right away! 

I finally got to apply for a name change in April 2025 (a nice birthday gift to myself!). The process itself was super easy (fill out a simple form and send it via mail to the Standesamt), albeit there were some small confusions that I unnecessarily worried about (I heard from other people that they just downloaded the form on their towns website but couldn’t find any form on my towns website and was torn between just printing out some other towns form and hoping my town will accept it (since the actual content would be the same) or writing them a letter requesting their form, and then ended up doing both just to be safe, and then worried that doing both may lead to confusion and accidentally slow down the process! That was just a lot of overthinking on my part, which wasn’t helped by it taking weeks until I heard anything back - but when I did, it was a letter confirming my application and telling me the earliest appointment date I could get after the waiting period. I confirmed I want that date. 

Having an actual date for it came with a rollercoaster of emotions. It made it so real. When I first came out to myself as transgender, years ago - when I found the words to describe the gender dysphoria I felt since childhood and realized that I’m not a broken, weird woman who is really bad at being a woman, I am simply a man - I still told myself it’d only be my „fun little secret“. I tried to convince myself that I could treat it like some dirty fantasy I only live out in my head and never tell anyone about. Obviously, that wasn’t very healthy or sustainable and only made the gender dysphoria feel unbearable. Looking back at these memories and those feelings, and comparing it to me now having a date where I’ll actually legally change my gender marker, that brought on an overwhelming sense of happiness and relief. 

I felt like I could finally (metaphorically) hug child me who decided he’d rather starve to death than ever eat enough to start puberty and develop boobs and teenage me who decided he’d rather die than ever turn into an adult woman - and tell them that we made it. We stayed alive to grow into a man.  We stayed alive to see a world that acknowledges you, that sees you and knows you need this. You need to be seen as who you truly are, and now our paperwork will reflect that. We made it. We can breathe now. 

I said „rollercoaster of emotions“, so you can already guess that some less happy feelings also sneaked in - but, unlike transphobes would probably love to read here, there were never any feelings of regret. I never worried that I was making the wrong choice in the sense of „What if I change my name and then realize I’m a woman after all“. Never even crossed my mind. 

What I did worry about, however, was encountering transphobia. Either directly at the Standesamt or at the bank, health insurance company, disability benefits office…. all the places I’d have to notify of the name change later. And on a broader scale also by political parties and society as a whole, especially with the Afd (German Nazi Party comparable to Trump in the US) growing rapidly in popularity. I worry about putting a target on my back by leaving a papertrail of me being trans - but I do not worry about being wrong. I never worried that I might be wrong. Only that the world might not let me be right.

I can’t speak for the latter parts yet - but at least at the Standesamt, all these worries were baseless. I came in, equally buzzing with excitement and shaking with nervous anticipation, he said „You’re here for the name change appointment, right?“, I said yes, he smiled and went „It’s so cool you’re doing this!“. I immediately relaxed. 

The actual appointment took exactly 13 minutes. I confirmed that they got my personal information right, I confirmed that I want to do this and am aware of the laws around it, I paid 70 euro, I showed him my old birth certificate and got handed my new one, we had some pleasant smalltalk (he asked if the name Oliver has any special meaning, things like that). He even apologized for also legally having to inform me of the laws around changing back to my birth name if I should ever decide to. I think he was as worried about him (accidentally) being transphobic as I had been! 

Before the appointment, I felt a bit down about the fact that nobody would come along with me and hug me right after. I don’t know if that’s a strange or relatable thing, but it’s something I felt. I saw all these posts on social media by trans people who had their appointments in the months before mine and they all seemed to go with their partner, friends or family, with someone who would congratulate them and hug them after. Of course this is something you do for yourself and your happiness and your future, and I can already hear the transphobes say „see, he’s proof they only do it for attention!“ - but it is a big milestone and I think it deserves some attention. I think it’s human to want some attention for positive news in your life. And so I worried I’d come out of the Standesamt, still on cloud nine with excitement.. and then land pretty hard on the cold ground when I stand there alone. This worry flared up painfully this morning when I talked to my mom about the appointment before leaving and she went „Oh, that’s why it has been raining so heavily, God is crying“ - it was a stupid comment that I should’ve easily brushed off but it hit me harder than I’d like to admit. 

The worry didn’t come true, though. I came out of the Standesamt and I texted my partner (who was at work) and then I got myself a piece of cake - and I felt very calm and content. 

My mom did in fact congratulate me after, and so did my siblings. But it turned out I didn’t need that emotional hug right after to celebrate it. I walked out of the Standesamt not just with a new birth certificate, but with a feeling of peace - the peace younger me had been waiting for.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[ririya-translates]

Mitsuki Birthday Story and Flower

In 2024, Towada published short stories on character birthdays about how they celebrated those days in the game timeline. July 14th is Mitsuki's and I've been desperately wanting to translate it for a year now.

There aren't major spoilers, but I would advise completing the common route up to that point and his first affection event before reading for further context (his summer novel story is relevant too, but not a requirement).

His image flower is baby's breath. Ishida describes it as pairing well with other flowers, with both of them bringing out the other's charm, while also having its own pure and refined beauty.

Every July 14th, Shirota remembered that there was no cake. That day in the Quartz rehearsal room, as rainy season transitioned into summer, was no different.

"Louis, you're the same as always!" In the middle of the excitement stood the one with a high voice, girlish face, and slender figure. Kisa Tachibana was truly a Jeanne…or at least used to be. Past tense. Because for the summer performance Kisa was somehow challenged to take on a Jack role.

Mukai, the role Kisa played, was a man whose androgynous features made him stand out from the rest of the world. He had an articulate, clean-sounding voice as if it had all excess noise scraped off of it. He was a cool man who could manage any problems that arose with unaffected ease. Yet it was Mukai who was now shouting on the behalf of his work superior, Hasekura. They all held their breath in shock and couldn't look away. It even pierced through Shiroma, Shirota's character, who was unable to move a muscle.

The towering wave of Mukai's rage and Kisa's acting swept them all into the scene. While Kisa becoming a Jack set off a lot of controversy with the class transfer debacle, the day where he engulfed the rest of Univeil didn't seem that far off now. (…That isn't to say Kisa was always an 'unmistakable Jack' though.) While this current Kisa was a 'Jack any way you look at it', when he first met Kisa, Shirota imagined he would naturally walk down the Jeanne path. But now all his his thinking had been overturned.

Kisa Tachibana seemed like someone who did not fear change. This was in total contrast to Shirota, who had no desire for it. He felt it was best for situations and emotions to remain flat, to continue being perfectly level. Change was something that only brought troublesome pain. For example, there was absolutely never cake on any July 14th….

(That one again, huh?) Shirota let out an annoyed sigh at the flood of incoherent feelings rushing forth within him. If only he could get rid of these boring memories with an exhale. Recollections filled his veins and ran through his body until they pierced through his chest. The pain called forth more and more of these dormant memories to the surface. ――Faces lit up in candlelight. A house with all the lights off. ――A mix of singing voices and congratulations. The sound of only his own footsteps. ――A cake crowned with giant strawberries. A perfectly flat table with not a thing on it. (I don't even like cake anyway.) But even so, on a day like today, cake was all he could think about. (A round cake, split into pieces, this is my, this is…this is…..) The churning memories made his head feel fuzzy.

"Shirota." He suddenly heard his name called. He raised his head with a jolt and saw Kisa in front of him. From all the racket in the practice room, he would later figure out that Neji had called for a break. "Sorry, is it okay if I ask a song-related question?" "…." "Shirota?" "Oh, um…" Kisa blinked several times at Shirota's stammering, but waited for his response, being careful not to overstep any bounds. The more Shirota thought about not saying anything, about not continuing the conversation, the more that thick murky cloudiness grew in his head. "…You." "Yes?" "Look like you could eat a whole cake by yourself." "Huh," Kisa's voice slipped out. "Huh," Shirota's did the same. He realized he had dragged Kisa into all these memories. (What the hell are you doing?!) He reflexively scolded himself. "Sorry, I was thinking about something else." He apologized with flimsy words which lacked any ring of truth. They may as well have been lies. Emotions swelled up within him and surged forcefully. He was filled with hatred for himself. "I think I could eat one, depending on the size at least," Kisa said. There was no need to reply to such a ridiculous question, but he did anyways with a nod and a serious expression. "But for you Shirota, even just one piece might be a challenge, huh?" Kisa was trying to keep the conversation going. Seeing that, Shirota couldn't just ignore it. "…You might be right. Even just one piece feels like a lot sometimes. Especially if it's a sugary cake loaded with cream." Without missing a beat, Kisa said, "Like a shortcake?" He had just gone for the most common example, but it matched exactly with the one from Shirota's memories. A shortcake with red strawberries. (I don't even like cake, but…)

He thought about his younger self having a cake placed in front of him, one loaded with sweetness and kind affection. "…I guess." A cake on the table was a symbol of parental love. A cake missing from the table was a symbol of that love being gone. "But…I do have the urge to eat it from time to time." The fact that he never had it was the very thing that made him crave it so badly. His self was imprisoned within this cage of his parents as wounds were dug into his heart. The seeping blood was proof of his connection to them. "Well in that case, you should split it into pieces and just eat as much as you want," Kisa said, as if it was easy. "Huh…" "Just cut off the size of piece you think you'd like." (That's not really what I'm talking about. And what would I do with the leftover cake?) He kept his mouth closed. (Oh right, this guy…has had people around to split a cake with.) Parents, siblings, anyone like that. So he could receive cake from others and give it away as well.

Now that Shirota thought about it, he always assumed the cake would be sliced. That seemed like the natural way to enjoy a gift. But the moment he thought about this, his world suddenly turned upside down and all the feelings crashed on top of him. (I….) Cake is something that's given to others, isn't it? His thoughts first jumped to his parents' faces, a sight that always brought him to despair. But in the back of his mind, he also thought of those guys in the year above him who looked out for him. He thought of the others in Quartz and the other students in his year. (They've all changed, and so have I.) The turbulent emotions began to clear a little while the cake within his memories started to dim. "…Are there any songs you particularly like?" In an attempt to force the conversation back on track, Kisa finally asked the question he had wanted to ask from the start. Kisa's voice, and that of all the other Quartz students, began to ring all at once in Shirota's ears. (…Ah, right.)

With practice over, Shirota walked by himself down Tamasaka Hill. He had arrived at an old-fashioned patisserie a bit off of the main road. He spotted the place earlier on his way to the cafe. Even though it never seemed to run out of customers, it felt relaxed. "Welcome!" Within the store's lineup of colourful cakes stood a big round one with strawberries. But Shirota quickly averted his eyes. (Don't they have anything in a more reasonable size?) He moved to the line of cakes of far more modest size that fit just what he needed. Some seasonal fruit tarts caught his eye. "…Hi, I'd like to place an order. I'll have one of these fruit tarts. And…one strawberry shortcake." He paused a moment. "…The second one is pretty big, but I'll share it with my friends at school." Today was his birthday. This time next year, he would surely think back on this day and smile.

[crazyalien87]

Hmmmm....okay. You are right in that some definitions of feminism don't mention women specifically. However, some do. Also, you are ignoring the societal context here. It is women who have been oppressed and have had our rights taken away from us. Yes, we are not the only oppressed group (e.g. trans people are also oppressed for being trans), but other groups have their own movements. Feminism was literally named after women because we were not having equal rights to men, so we had to fight for women and men to have equal rights to each other. However, that is the same as saying we want to free women from oppression and give us more rights, because either it is that or taking rights away from men, which obviously isn't feminism. My point is that feminism is not a movement FOR men. I'm not saying that men can't be feminist, just that feminism is not about giving them rights because they ALREADY had them.

Also, you took that page from IWDA out of context. They are named after women and are about women, obviously.

Nice job of cherry-picking only the definitions of feminism that didn't mention women, or just cropping out the mentions of women.🙄😒

Anyway, let's move on to the next point. BDSM. First of all, I'm not a prude. I not against many of the other times when Sabrina Carpenter has been quite sexual. For example, her songs "Bed Chem" and "Juno" from her last album are some of my favorite songs, and coincedentally quite sexual. Although, it is a bit weird to name a song about wanting to get pregnang as an adult after a movie where a teen got pregnant on accident. Not like anti-feminist, just confusing.

My point here is that my opposition to BDSM is not just prudish sex-negative shit because I'm not against other sexual things. I'm not even against the BD part, like whatever do what you want. I'm against the SM because that is literally harming people. I thought harming people is bad? I mean, of course, it is better if you get consent, but still. You (general you) shouldn't be wanting to hurt yourself or your partner. Making it sexual doesn't make it better. I mean, imagine if I said "I want to punch my girlfriend". That would be bad, right? Even if she consented to it. Like, come on, if I had a gf and she want to hurt herself (even indirectly using my first), I wouldn't oblige her, I would be concerned for her mental wellbeing. Why would mkaing it sexual change that?

Although, the wikipedia article doesn't really explain feminists' arugments against BDSM, and I didn't really explain in this thread my arguments against her album cover. My apologies. Let's get into it:

BDSM alone is not even the problem with the cover! The problem is the 2 popular but contradictory interpretations of it by supporters of it: 1, it is just her sexuality and that is fine; or 2, it is satire about how men see her and not what she actually wants.

Do you see the problem with that? Whatever she is doing on the cover is either normal sexuality, or something bad to be mocked/satirized. But which is it? Is it actually a bad thing she doesn't like, but since she didn't make it clear AT ALL that it is satire, many people (such as you) have been tricked into thinking it is good? Or, is it acually a good thing, and many of her fans just jumped the gun into assuming it was satire in response to other people disgust towards it, making the excuse "her previous stuff was satire so you have to just assume anything she makes is satire"? Besides, it's not just submission, she is also comparing herself to a dog. That is literally dehumanization. How is that not degrading? I mean, is everyone supposed to assume it is just petplay? As if most people have heard of that. You all couldn't agree on whether it is satire or not, either, so I don't think relying on assumptions works here. Like yeah, sure, I would get down on my knees for the right person. But, she's not just down on her knees, he's pulling her hair and she's comparing herself to a dog and, istg most ppl don't know whatever weird kinks and fetishes she could be referring to. Like, how is anyone supposed to know if this is just her sexuality of a satire of how sexist men see her as a just a servant? Or, is she seeing herself as that? Or? Like, if she could at least give clarification on whether the cover is actually satire or not, that would be so helpful.

y'all are all up in arms about sabrina's new album cover or whatever it is (man's best friend pics i've seen floating around), and i don't really like her and her music is okay, but you're forgetting that feminism is letting people do that. that's what she wants to do with her body and her image and you're supposed to support that. did you forget that comes with your feminism or did you not know you're actually a scumbag and you're taking the "women should be modest and follow my set of feminism" take that men you hate have? why call yourself a feminist if your feminism has terms and conditions? if she has a libido that's inherently geared towards her interest in men that she wants to show off that's her prerogative. you're allowed to be uncomfortable but that is not your body, not your spirit, not your fucking individual experience, and it's not your choice.

[windvexer]

Hello windvexer, I am writing this ask because I need some help coming up with a spell to help me deal with my current situation. For context, I live with a very financially irresponsible father who's habits put a strain on all of us at home, I would like to find a way to make it so that he stops spending money on stupid stuff (as speaking and any non magical solutions are not an option) but I do not wanna cause him harm. I have heard of freezing spells where you write your targets name and put them in a freezer but obviously my family does not know I am a witch and would ask questions if they found something like that, I am really scratching my brain trying to figure this out and would strongly appreciate a word of advice. Thank you!

It's very difficult to get someone to change an entrenched pattern of behavior, especially when they have no desire to do so.

In fact we know that even if a person does want to change an entrenched behavior, they're motivated to do so, and their reasons for change are important to them, it can still be hard.

So while it might seem that this must be an easy operation because the entire goal can be easily summarized into a single intent ("Man freezes irresponsible spending"), I would argue that it might not be as easy as all that.

I mean I'm sure you would see some change if you did a single spell to bind the entire problem, but those changes might not be as intense as you want, nor very long lasting.

But that doesn't mean there is nothing you can do. Actually this probably dovetails with your other problem (requiring secrecy) nicely, and Venn diagrams you a path forward: you're probably better off doing lots of little things to mitigate harm.

What kinds of changes to behavior might help someone stop irresponsible spending? Here are my ideas:

"Safe" money that's held aside and difficult to easily access

Replacing shopping with another hobby

Encouraging education for financial literacy

Outlining and prioritizing major financial goals

Finding a safe and reasonable outlet: "safe spending" money that can be spent without guilt, just like there is "safe savings" that we don't have to worry will disappear

Setting a household budget

Telling someone to stop spending irresponsibly

I bet those of you with experience breaking difficult habits are rolling your eyes at the last one. But it's that last idea that's basically the same thing as a freezer or binding spell to try and force someone to stop spending.

In fact any one of these things may be ineffective, but if you did all of these things together, real change might occur. And just like telling someone to stop spending is in and of itself a spell intent, so are all the rest:

Protection spells over finances to stop them from being taken and frittered away

Conjuring healthy distractions, hobbies, interests, and friends for someone to give them a new outlet of release

Truth-seeing spells to open someone's eyes to the harm they're causing

Protection spells over not only finances themselves, but also protections laid over family goals and important household goals ("we have to buy all new tires this year," "we want to take a family road trip for Christmas")

Binding a person to spending a smaller amount every time they go on a spree (I'd argue perhaps a much easier goal to accomplish than to stop them cold turkey)

A ritual to call the spirits for help and enforce 'house rules', asking spiritual helpers to reinforce financial safety and limit harmful spending

Binding a person to avoid making irresponsible decisions

When I'm faced with a disease that will require many operations to excise, I follow a general order of operations:

Protections first (lay protections on yourself first, always - even if you don't foresee any particular danger towards yourself. Protect money, protect family members, protect household - it's likely unwise to protect the person who's actions must change, for obvious reasons)

Soothing and enforcing of rules; rallying allies (cleansing as required, placating spirits, setting house rules, resolving conflict in the spirit world)

Calling helpful alternatives and desired futures (conjuring healthy distractions; directly calling desired futures to come to pass)

Actions taken upon the person to try and instill change (truth-seeing spells, bindings, etc).

These things may be easily done without leaving much of a witchy trace, of course depending on how much privacy you have to cast spells and what you have on hand.

Protection spells might be disguised as:

Junk journals (think the written/collage version of a container spell),

Cottagecore decorations (a classic protection jar with herbs and stones),

Doom bags (charm bags that seem to be a collection of random trinkets you acquired and stored away without much thought; the bags can be large and nondescript, although a drawstring is useful)

Artwork (sigils do not need to look like they're from a grimoire, a piece of fanart or a landscape will work if you know how to put power into your art),

Cleaning supplies (enchanted vinegars for wiping down baseboards, enchanted waters to mist on the carpet before vacuuming, vinegars or bits of EO added to the rinse water after mopping, etc).

A very good way to work secret magic is to get a little amigurumi or resin doll or one of those cute toys that are very popular these days. It's even better if you can make one. Make it, and/or consecrate it, to be the thing protected: the little frog can be consecrated as household finances themselves.

Then, in acts of sympathetic magic, you can privately cast protection and blessing spells on the little frog.

Binding spells can be accomplished in very much the same way - you don't have to consecrate the poppet as the person, but you can consecrate it as their harmful spending, and seek to work over things piecemeal.

Making an elaborate figure isn't necessary - it works just fine with paper dolls, too.

Binding is also easily done by knotting threads. Try binding the thing in question and weighing the thread down with stones.

My last word on protections is that if you replace 'protection' with the phrase 'security and stability', you get a lot closer to the purpose of protections in most mundane situations: the protections are not because you think you will be targeted by your dad, but that because if you start trying to make someone change their entrenched behavior, a behavior that could ruin lives and cause homelessness and all sorts of awful things, then you are running a risk of causing greater instability.

The purpose of protections is not because you fear direct harm, but because in your effort to roust this behavior, you risk a family member becoming ungrounded. So everyone else around gets lots of extra security, lots of extra stability, lots of strong and grounded energies.

Then if one person behaves erratically when spending is suddenly limited, hopefully everyone else will be going along just fine, unbothered.

[xxfangirl365xx]

idk if I ever shared this story here of my first encounter with mcr or not so I kinda wanna share it cause I was reminded of it today :D

so for context, my family (as do many others) watch the ball drop in times square on new years eve.

so new years eve 2011, I'm 6 (ish) years old. I'm sitting in front of the tv on the floor and we had a channel running that was playing some of the various musical acts. One rly caught my attention and I do remember it to this day. I didn't know the band name, or any of the names, or anything at all. But I was COMPLETELY caught off guard by the guy in front of the camera with BRIGHT red hair. I was literally shook I thought they immediately were so cool.

specifically I remember this angel

but within like 3 mins my dad ran in and changed the channel and when I protested he said something like "that's not for you. you're too young..." (he loves my love for mcr now btw but I think in the heat of the second he was worried their might be cussing for something and my brother was like 3 and I was only 6 so that makes sense) and switched to a different channel.

I kinda forgot about that until many moons later I started getting into mcr and I'm scrolling on pInterest and was like "WAIT! WAIT THAT WAS THEM!!!?? THE GUYS FROM THE NEW YEARS THING WAS MCR!?!?" and connected that dots that I kinda fell in love with their vibe when I was super little and fell in love with their music much later.

so every once and awhile when I remember that lil piece of personal lore I go watch the performance on youtube :D

[taweretsdagger]

lost's use of twins/dual selves

-> (in the context of the polycube)

a little while back, i realized how many damn characters there are in lost that are called "tom" (some as their given name, and some as an alias they use at one point or another). and i got curious about this, since it seemed like too many uses of the same name to be purely accidental. and maybe so, maybe not (tom is definitely a pretty common name)!

but for funsies, i looked up the meaning of the name "thomas."

and guys!!! it means twin. TWIN!!!!!!!!

TWIN!!!!!!!

you know, twins??? as in, a pretty important concept for the origin story of this whole damn show!!!! (as an aside from the polycube analysis, this fact also got me thinking that maybe, JUST maybe, claudia would've named the MiB "thomas" if she'd lived long enough.)

and interestingly enough, the name "tom" shows up for four people i view as comprising jack, sawyer, kate, and juliet's "dual selves" ("twins"). i also view these twins as embodying the things these four characters desire most deeply for themselves.

ALSO, i think these twins had to die (specifically AT the hands of their other half) in order for the polycube members to have a chance at achieving what they want most.

so, let's get into it!

jack's twin -> christian:

jack sees christian as everything he'll never be. he'll never "have what it takes." he accuses christian of going behind his back with sarah when they're getting divorced, and eventually we learn that jack's story about counting to five was something that came from christian (personally i very much dislike this retconning by the lost writers, but hey! it happened!) for christian, the name "tom" comes into play only briefly--when he and ana lucia are together in sydney, it's what he asks her to call him. and although christian doesn't die directly at jack's hand, it's told to us that he ran away to australia because of jack, and jack definitely shoulders a lot of blame for his death. and even though jack's end is tragic, he DOES get what he wanted most before he dies. he learns that he does have what it takes, after all.

sawyer's twin -> anthony cooper:

this one is more obvious. we learn very early that sawyer's alias came directly from the man who killed his parents, and a little later we learn that cooper was going by tom (sawyer) at the time. and we hear from sawyer himself that he sought to become this "twin" of his, dedicating his whole life to the pursuit. and he succeeded, both in that becoming and in finally killing the man he'd built his self around. sawyer is by far the most self/thematically-aware of the polycube when it comes to this motif, but he also suffers the most as a direct result of it. even after he kills anthony cooper, it's clear that sawyer is still lost. he's not really sawyer anymore, but he's not james either. he's not ready to "play house" (which is what he wants most, and what anthony cooper took from him.) there's another little wrinkle required of him before he has a chance at that (stay tuned!), and even though he DOES get a glimpse of the domestic safety and love he craves, i'd argue that wrinkle gets in the way of him keeping it.

kate's twin -> tom brennan:

@lost-inanotherlife changed my brain chemistry forever by pointing out that while jack's primary driver can be viewed as him wanting to be a "bad girl," kate's is to be a "good boy." and i think that's what tom brennan represents to her, probably her earliest example of the concept (other than sam austen). once they're on-island, i also think jack and kate start to become each other's "twins." but that's a post for another day. tom grew up with kate, but he was always good in a way she could never be. it's the same way she views sam, and the way she eventually comes to view jack. from the brief look we get of tom brennan, it seems like he has a stable, loving family. and we learn that he wanted the exact same thing back when he and kate were childhood sweethearts. he becomes a doctor (another sticking point for kate, who wants to help people soooo badly but gets punished for trying--such as with diane), and he goes out of his way to help her even though it could get him in trouble. and it does, in the worst way, when he dies during kate's attempted escape. and like jack, kate is left in a heart-wrenching position at the end of the story. but i think she found some healing/realization of her goal through being responsible for aaron off the island, and i believe she was able to achieve even more of this healing long term, through building a life with aaron AND claire <33

juliet's twin -> tom friendly:

this one is, i think, the biggest stretch of this concept. but bear with me! we don't get to see these two characters interact very much. when they do, though, it seems like they get along well. and if nothing else, they're both others, both seemingly within ben's "inner circle." with ONE key difference. because what's something we see tom friendly do several times (other than rock the fake beard)??? leave! the! island! and yes, he still lives there full-time. but he can leave! he can do what he pleases while he's away, and he says plainly that he takes advantage of that. like, even if not a single other thing changed about juliet's ending or overall storyline, imagine how ecstatic she would be if got to see rachel and julian even just once. even just for a visit. like, the joy she experienced seeing them on the screen in the flame would've been multiplied by a million. it wouldn't have made her story any less tragic, but she still deserved to get that joy. all she wanted was to go home. and she doesn't get it! not at all!! she's the only one of the four main characters who never gets what she wants most, not even a little bit. even though tom friendly does die. but!!! listen up, because this is some delicioussss suliet star-crossed lovers shit (if i do say so myself)!!! tom friendly, juliet's "twin," does NOT die at HER hands. he dies at SAWYER's hands. and just like the jate on-island twins thing, there's a whoooole other meta to be written about the way sawyer's second vendetta (committed on walt's unwitting behalf) can be understood as the key that allows him to finally become "james" (even if it's only for juliet's sake, which is how i tend to view his transformation/character development), and start searching for what he wants most. at the same time, this vendetta can be viewed as one more nail in juliet's coffin. maybe she wouldn't have killed tom friendly anyway; maybe it wouldn't have mattered if she did. maybe none of this matters, and it's all a coincidence that juliet gets doomed--not only to death, but to a stagnancy/lack of fulfillment that she bears as her particular brand of tragedy. kind of like how she bears a literal brand for the... other way she helped out with sawyer's character development. you know, by saving his life??? (the first time??) poor juliet :( <///3

[hoonstrology]

error 404 sunghoon missing a date with reader and him trying to do everything to apologize for it but he's so bad with his words he just makes it worse lol

＃ apologies for the delay .ᐟ

   ⤷  ꒰ an e404-boyfriend!sunghoon drabble. ꒱

⤷  can be read as a stand-alone. ┆ for context, read e404 here! ⤷  contains — 1.7k+ words. softbf!hoon, est. relationship. angst, fighting, mentions of cheating, comfort and fluff at the end. lame attempts at humor. seyoon as sunghoon's sister. not proofread. ⤷ main masterlist.  ┆ series masterlist.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ reblogs and replies are highly appreciated! 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

the waiter looked at you— at first, with curiosity. like he wasn’t used to people coming in unaccompanied. then, after having to order twice and still be in your lonesome, the look morphed into one of sympathy. an expression you’re sure he’s made a thousand times whenever patrons get ditched by their dates.

if this were any other man, you’d have gone home already. but he’s rarely ever late and he never let you down. so the first half of the hour was spent patiently sitting down and digging through your plate of salad.

somewhere near the full hour mark, your confusion turned into mild irritation.

to: pengoo. 🐧 — hey, it’s been an hour. can you please let me know if you’re still coming? i feel a little shy here. :( 

you’ve sent him a couple of texts intermittently, all of them having been unreplied. 

you put your phone away with a sigh, trying your hardest to look unbothered while internally burning at the looks you’ve been getting from some of the customers. 

just as your third meal was set down, the doorbell's chimes rung and you caught the waiter’s look of relief. your boyfriend came walking through the door with a bouquet of what looked liked beaten tulips, prompting the server to leave you two alone.

he jogged to your table and set the flowers down with a smile. a fucking smile. you looked at him, face void of any amusement before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“thank god i made it.” he sighed in relief, wiping the sweat off his forehead before taking your glass and bringing it to his lips. rather than picking up your cues, he picked up the menu.

no explanation, no apologies. just a useless review about how nice the appetizer choices are.

“park sunghoon.”

you rarely ever used his full name– only when he’s really pushed your buttons. you’ve found it to be an effective way of reprimanding him without using much words. true to its efficacy, he stilled in his seat before looking at you, the brown cover of the booklet covering half his face.

"yes?" he asked, slowly putting the menu down.

“you’re late. more than an hour late.”

he shifted in his seat, all of a sudden finding the plain white table cloth interesting while his fingers poked on the stems of the wilting flowers atop the table.

you didn't shout. you didn't need to. the steady gaze you had on him was enough to make him feel hotter, urging him to slip off the leather jacket he had on.

“i’m sorry. really. i’m sorry, angel.” he whimpered, head hung low. when his eyes tried to take a peek, you’re still looking at him deadpan. perhaps even more irritated than when he came in.

sunghoon just frowned and reached for your free hand which you gladly let him do, but you didn’t hold it back.

he picked up on what that meant. 

“enough apologies. explain yourself.” you demanded. 

he sat up properly and flashed you those damn puppy eyes but you’re far too annoyed to even entertain his attempt at making you swoon. no matter how cute he looked. 

“i swear i didn’t mean to be late! i finished prepping about two hours early, and i was already going to head out but this girl—” 

he was wearing the shirt you got him last week. and he wasn’t wearing his glasses today either which was a change you always welcomed. on his neck, a thin silver chain that he got to match the bracelet on your wrist.

as your eyes went further down to inspect your boyfriend, it caught a stain. you don’t even hear the rest of his words. your eyes just continued to zone in on the right sleeve of his shirt.

a light, almost unnoticable beige stain with what looked like smeared red ink towards the hem. except you’re not stupid. 

that’s not ink. that’s makeup. 

“why do you have lipstick on your shirt?”

“oh fuck, she must have left some on me—”

she?

“excuse me?” you whispered, brows furrowing together in disbelief. 

you waited for a look of guilt, of surprise, of anything from him. but he just shrugged his shoulders like having a girl close enough to leave makeup smudge on his shirt was normal.

“yeah, she was crying and begging me to stay but i told her i had a date with you, but don’t worry, i’ll just meet her after thi—” 

yeah, no.

you shook his hand off of yours and grabbed your purse, knuckles tightening around it as you walked past your confused boyfriend.

he stood up to follow but the server who sensed the tense atmosphere from a distance came just in time to lay the bill on the table which allowed you to create some distance from your scumbag of a boyfriend. 

the tears don’t come. not yet. you just feel numb. this wasn’t something you’ve experienced. all your past relationships ended in ghosting or in mutual decision that growth was more important than love, never cheating.

you don’t want to assume the worst in your boyfriend. he wouldn’t do that. surely, he wouldn’t. not your sunghoon. 

you heard his footsteps before his voice. “babe?”

you turned around to look at him holding the bouquet and looking panicked, carrying the demeanor similar to that of a kicked puppy. it’s so hard to be mad at him when he’s being like this— so you turn your back again.

your footsteps carried you away, the previously confident strides turning into upset stomps as you felt the quiet rage bubble up into something bigger, something more ugly.

“b-baby? where are you going?” 

“away from you.” 

“wh– huh? what did i do?” he asked with the same genuine confusion in his voice, trailing behind you while keeping a safe foot of distance in between.

he stops walking when you do, and you turn around, chin tipped slightly upwards to meet his face.

“you show up late for our date with lipstick stains on your god damn clothes and expect me not to walk out?” you sneered, angrily pressing on the smudges on his shirt to prove your point.

his eyes briefly glanced at the stain, and they widened. “oh– baby, no i swear it’s not what it looks like–”

you laughed, but it’s not the bright one that sunghoon loved hearing. it’s forced. it’s sarcasm mixed with hurt and betrayal. “and to say to my face that you’re planning to meet her afterwards too? the balls you have, sunghoon.”

“angel, i swear! she’s.. like.. my sister.” he whispered in between pauses and you cut him off with an exasperated show of your palm.

“i don’t give a flying fuck if she’s like a sister to you!” your voice finally rose to match your rising temper.

“no i didn’t mean it like that, i mean she's—”

“then what did you mean? because every evidence is pointing to the fact that you’ve broken my trust. willingly so.”

he looked at you with conflict behind his brown eyes, and did it again. he reached up to scratch his throat. the words that left your lips stabbed him like icicles: cold, sharp, and painful. 

“spit it out.” 

he walked forward, holding your hand and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, just soft breaths and inaudible mumbles. what if he can’t explain it properly? what if he makes the situation worse than it already is? 

so he knelt on the pavement and kept his eyes glued on it, which took you by surprise. while you did want him to apologize, you didn't want to bruise his pride like that.

"sunghoon, get up right now." you muttered, trying to pull him up by your connected hands.

"no."

"get up right now or so help me—"

“it was seyoon, okay?” he starts, a hollow spot appearing on one side of his face as he bit on the tender skin of his inner cheek.  

his sister?

“i got held up because she visited and cried about her cheating boyfriend and i wanted to be a good brother but she was telling me not to go but i really didn't want to be late." he explains.

"i hugged her but maybe some of her makeup got on my arm— y/n. angel. i swear i wouldn’t ever do something as disgusting as that to you and i'm so sorry for being late but she just wouldn't listen, i swear i tried my best—"

now you just felt like an asshole.

"you should have just mentioned her name before anything else, you idiot." you grumbled, letting go of his hand to go on one knee, cupping his cheek to tilt his head towards you.

the dejected look he wore made you feel like you've guaranteed yourself a spot in hell.

"i know, angel. i'm sorry for not explaining it better." he whispered again, wrapping his arms around you. you took that opportunity to make him stand up, giving his butt a loving pat.

"i'm so sorry too, my love. i should have listened to you."

when sunghoon refused to break the hug, you leaned back with raised eyebrows. he gave you a smile but you can tell he still had a lot in his mind by the way he's rocking on his heels and squeezing on your waist.

"what is it, love?"

"just.. please don't shout at me like that again, angel. it really scared me." he confesses with a pleading voice so soft that it made you want to hurt yourself. how dare you think so little of your boyfriend who was just trying to be a responsible brother?

you coo and cup his cheeks, placing an apologetic kiss on his lips. "i'm sorry. no more shouting at my hoonie." you hum, peppering kisses all over his face which was enough to pull a giggle out of him.

"so are we going back to the restaurant?"

"are you kidding me?" you scoffed. "we're heading to the grocery store. ice cream, salty chips, whatever seyoon likes. i'll have a girl-on-girl with her, and you're going to hunt the bastard who broke her heart."

sunghoon broke the hug and gave you a two finger salute, nodding. "yes, ma'am."

꒰ from ! 🐰 yan ꒱⠀⠀ i.... hope this was enough. i can't tell if anon wanted this to be an angst-centric drabble or humor-centric so i tried doing a little bit of both. if i failed..... don't let me know. < / 3 i want to expand my masterlist so send more requests for other members juseyo ! ♡

⌗ taglist (open) — @zerocoded

© hoonstrology 2025. please don't translate, plagiarize, steal, or repost any of my works.

[citriarchive]

i've been writing a song for a little while now and i just find the progression from naming it "SONGTITLE_ITERATION" to "[song title] is never finished it just stops moving" and "[st]infijsm 2 electric boogaloo" really funny for some reason

this is the one (1) thing keeping me sane rn

[beif0ngs]

alright look, i just wanna know who is the writer that came up with the dumbass idea of replacing the line “Ever since I lost my son, I think of you as my own” with “Lu Ten would have been proud to have you as his father” in this scene for the Netflix live action series???

[erinwantstowrite]

thinking about them atm (couldn't focus while writing so i had to doodle)

[rayroseu]

Meleanor and Dawn's dream be like✨✨✨

why make this?? because:

Knight of Dawn deserves to bully Henric for a little bit✨✨✨

and crack theory that what if these two faces actually foreshadows Raverne's or Crowley's face lolol JDHJAJFJW Raverne never skipped mewing even if he went MIA for centuries frfr

[iridescent-serpent]

The ever so illustrious (and badly scanned) sketch page, as promised :3 @orion-archives

Ngl, hilarious to me that every time I do a double full page sketch for these dudes, I basically unlock a new character (this time it’s Bumblebee). Not much planned for him rn beyond “I think it’d be Really funny if Bumblebee got bitches and is the same age as Optimus”. (You can see I Struggled at first with him till I sat down and Stared at some reference pics and then Immediately deviated away from it). Also a bit of Elita which I expanded upon in my fav format, meme :)

Also Ngl, I knew she showed up for like 0.6 seconds before being Blasted, but when using her comic ver. (Used Tfwiki which was surprisingly mean? About her? Felt bad) I realized she looked Very bird like (you can hear me evil chuckling in the distance as I keep infusing more animal traits like it’s my job). Also ended up keeping her ability to move around on one leg bc Ngl having her brandish one of her legs at you while going Mach 5 is Very Funny.

Also, here’s one I like I call “Sentinel screaming at the matrix to pick his son (Oppy) as the next High Leader” (also context: going with High Leader as a replacement for Prime as that’s a frame type here instead of “king chosen by god” archetype)

Also. Some bonus pics from my Discord :). Very little context beyond friend telling me to draw Oppy in Shinji pose and it Immediately devolving into the art (that I made) on their wall (it would be 2 Oppy v 1 Wally darling) and then I made the second at 2am in a fit of inspiration. You can tell it was 2am.

[premamelody]

how did we get here

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death