#i am so sorry for everyone affected by this

[miange1]

HYUN-JU

male reader, reader is a college student, talks of dysphoria, hyun-ju's past, reader doesn't know hyun ju's trans, pining/being smitten, death, crying, scuicidal thoughts, im in love with this woman.

note: i am not trans, im a cis dude. if i ever get something wrong or offensive and you're trans just let me know and i'll fix it. Also I saw something where someone said gyeong-seok probably just thought hyun ju was a cis woman who had a really deep voice and i thought it was funny.

You had been lucky to pass the first game. You were scared out of your mind, and the small group you made from the first few games had died. It was terrible, you had no one. It's surprising how despite everyone being in the same situation— you found no more comfort.

But there was this girl you had seen. She had shoulder length hair, and earrings that truly just suit her. She was really pretty, you wanted to talk to her yet she was always with her own group.

Yet this time, she wasn't. She was just by herself for a moment, was she thinking to herself? Maybe you should talk to her? No, that's a bad idea. Okay, but what else was there to do? You might die without talking to the woman of your dreams.

Mustering up the little courage you had, you went over to her. Hands sweaty the closer you got to her. You wiped it on your slightly blood stained uniform, feeling even more icky realizing you were bloody.

Getting closer to her, you sat on a mattress. Shit, what now? You cleared your throat, "H..hi." you felt like you were back in highschool. Mouth dry as if you were talking to your fist crush. She looked over to you, a small smile on her curious face. "Hi."

She spoke to you, holy crap she spoke to you.

"How uh— how are you?" You stuttered.

But before she could answer you shook your head, blurting for her not to answer that stupid question. Jesus your face was burning up, felt like you had a fever.

"I'm sorry," You were able to get that out. "This is dumb, I just thought you were really pretty and.." She hadn't broken eye contact with you, but you could barely look at her. "In a situation like this it's pretty weird to say something like that to someone isn't it?"

"You think I'm pretty?"

You shut your mouth, looking at her oddly. "Yeah..of course i do. Do you not think so?" She scoffed, thinking you were joking. She had just gotten called beautiful by young-mi, and she believed it she truly did. But hearing it from someone she barely knew? Made her feel like crying again.

"I have been called a lot of things, yet not pretty. I only expected to be called pretty after my transition." That was where you made another face more confused than before. "Transition?" Your voice spoke with genuine confusion.

She raised her eyebrow at you, then rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you can tell." You really couldn't. There was nothing you had against transgender people at all, but it doesn't change the fact you couldn't tell.

"I really wasn't aware, was that offensive to you?" She stared at you for a moment, bursting out laughing after a while and earning some stares. "My voice? Even hearing me, you weren't aware?" You shook your head and shrugged.

"I just thought you had a naturally deep voice." Oh you were making her feel so much better, even if you didn't know it. She couldn't stop laughing, grabbing onto your shoulder as a touch of affection. It made you smile and laugh with her, your own hand touching hers to reciprocate.

The two of you had deeper talks over time until the next game. She told you what you guessed she told the others, about her plan on what to do with the money, how she had others distance themselves from her when she told them she felt like a woman. It made you feel bad, but you were happy she was telling you this because it felt like you had known each other for so long.

You wished it lasted longer

—

"Six." The moment it was spoke, you had been pulled by hyun ju. It was a habit she was making, always grabbing you the moment the she heard the number. But this time, she made a mistake. She realized last minute young-mi was too behind.

She panicked, no one else seemed to have room and it was a moment of time before she absolutely had to close the door.

Hyun ju's grip stayed on you, it seemed to get tighter the more stressed she got. Young mi was just a kid, she deserved to live on.

"10, 9, 8,"

You only had so much time to decide. You yanked yourself from hyun ju's grip, and she instantly gave you a look as if you were stupid. "What are you doing?" She wanted to save you both, but you knew that wasn't possible.

You didn't speak, only letting your lips touch hers quickly, yet you stayed as long as you could. Even in death you would always remember her lips, they trembled against yours, confused, yet wanting and needing more. You let yourself run out, pushing the girl inside. "1."

It was done, and there was nothing that could be done. You heard the yell of her voice, panicking and shaking the door trying to get it to open. "No, no, unlock the door! God damn it!"

"I love you." She stopped, looking at you in your eyes. You were scared too, crying even. You didn't want to die, and she knew it. She was so deeply in love with someone she only knew for a few hours, but it felt like years. She needed you, she wanted you to live. Get to know you better when this was all over, maybe even go further if it could!

She couldn't even say it back while you were conscious. The life left your eyes, and your body fell. "No.." she was in disbelief. No, you weren't dead.

"Please, please, I love you too.." She couldn't be upset at anyone, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.

"Unnie." Arms wrapped around her, "Come on..you have to get up..the next round." She didn't want to play anymore, she didn't feel like she could. If only it was her, she could have at least had hope for you and young-mi.

Damn it

[pasteldreams]

aftercare - c.s.

pairing: fwb!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you teach your fuck buddy, chris, how to care for you after he rails you

cw: mentions of sex and bodily fluids (mdni), aftercare, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), educational maybe?, fluff

word count: ~1.2k

you and chris had been "together" for a while. when you broke up with your ex 6 months ago, you missed his dick more than anything. fortunately, your friend, chris, offered up just what you needed. you two weren't technically dating, but everyone knew you were fucking each other and only each other. chris was great in bed, he knew exactly what to do to make your back arch and your fists grab the sheets. however, he didn't have nearly as much experience as you do. his lack of experience didn't seem to affect his performance much, but his aftercare skills were shit. and today was no different.

"fuck, you did so good for me baby," chris says in between heavy breaths. he slowly lowers himself to lay next to you as he gently brushes your hair off of your face, both of you sticky from a combination of bodily fluids.

all you could release was a soft hum in response as the blood pumping through your ears began to quiet. you attempt to open your eyes only for the exhaustion to drag your lids back down.

chris laughs, "damn, it was that good?" you could practically hear the smirk in his voice before he let out a soft laugh.

"i'll give you a minute to recover, pretty girl." he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to check his phone on the night stand. after seeing his notifications, he begins rambling on about something sports-related, but you were still much too fucked out to comprehend any spoken language. once your senses returned to normal, your eyes fluttered open and you slowly turned towards chris, cringing as your lower body vibrated from even the small movement.

"guess what time it is," he grins laying against the pillow while facing you.

"what time is it, chris?" you ask trying to mask the discomfort.

"it's… CUDDLE TIME!" he yells suddenly before throwing himself on top of you, forcing you to lay on your back, and engulfing you in his arms.

you groan and attempt to push him off quickly receiving a pout in response.

"heyyy, what's wrong? why won't you cuddle with me?"

"dude… i literally have your cum dripping down my ass crack right now," you roll your eyes.

"oh," he pauses. "um. do you want me to get you a towel or something for that?"

"uh, yeah, that'd be nice," you say passive aggressively.

he doesn't respond as he quickly shuffles to the bathroom to grab a towel.

"do you want a big one or a small one?" he yells from the bathroom.

you sigh. "either is fine," you grumble just loud enough for him to hear.

he returns with a small towel.

"what's wrong baby?" he says as he climbs onto the bed putting the towel next to you.

"have you ever heard of aftercare?" you ask using the towel to soak up as much of the leaking fluid as you could, grimacing at the friction on the sensitive area.

“aftercare? like when a parent forgets to pick their kid up from school?" he jokes.

"no, chris… like for after sex," you state bluntly.

"no? am I supposed to know what it is?"

"do you wanna keep fucking me?"

he looks at you with surprised eyes not expecting that kind of question.

"of course I do, I mean─fuck─look at you," he gently slides his hand up your side as his eyes follow, taking in each inch of your skin on the way up.

"well, if you wanna keep fucking me, you need to learn how to take care of me after. you can't just fuck me the way that you do and expect me not to be in pain afterwards…"

"wait, you're in pain?" he furrows his brows in concern. "why didn't you tell me, angel? i can be more gentle whe-"

"no! fuck, no. i love the way you fuck me. please, don't be gentle. that's not what i want"

"so what d-"

"christopher, you can't learn if you don't let me talk."

"oh right, sorry, i'm listening," his expression turns serious suddenly.

"aw, what a good boy," you smirk teasing him.

"yeah, yeah, yeah, let's get on with this so I can keep fuckin' you, pretty girl."

"my pleasure," you grin. "first, you're usually pretty good with this one, but after you practically abuse me with your dick, i need you to tell me how good i was for you. because it's a lot of work taking you like i do, and i deserve the praise."

"you do deserve it princess. i can─no, i do do that. easy. next," he responds confidently.

"next, the towel. non-negotiable, and honestly, put it down before we even start 'cause once you pull out, sometimes even before that, it all just…"

"yeah, yeah, makes sense. i definitely should've thought about it when i was washing the sheets every single time we fucked," he admits sheepishly.

you laugh, "yeah, maybe."

"what else can I do for you, baby?" he cups your face with one of his warm hands, softly gliding his thumb across your cheekbone.

"now… i'm gonna need some help getting to the bathroom, 'cause i don't think i can even stand up on my own right now," you laugh softly, thinking about the less-than-natural positions chris had just put you in.

He laughs, smirking. "i really fucked you good today, huh?"

"just shut up and help me up."

“yes ma'am," he salutes jokingly before standing up and reaching his hands out to lift you out of bed and to the bathroom.

"you didn't have to carry me," you tell him.

"i know, but i like carrying you," he admits as he gently places you on your feet in the bathroom. once you're standing with the support of the counter, chris can't help but look you up and down.

"are you just gonna watch me piss or can i get a second by myself?" you tease him.

"oh shit, right, sorry. i'll be- um, i'll be out here," he says clearly flustered by your comment while backing out of the bathroom and closing the door.

You laugh, shaking your head.

After finishing in the restroom, you call chris's name softly.

"yes, baby?"

"can you help me get back to the room?" you giggle at your own sad state knowing it was partially your fault for begging chris to go harder.

he opens the door, quickly scooping you up and carrying back to the room.

"so, when do we get to cuddle?" he asks laying you down on the bed,

you roll your eyes playfully at him. "now, we can cuddle now, chris."

"fuck, finally, i've been waiting years to hold you," he exaggerates as he lays next to you, pulling your frame against his chest.

"chris, it was like 10 minutes."

"yeah, and I was going through withdrawal."

"you're so dramatic."

he nuzzles his head into your neck, releasing a content sigh. "you trust me to take care of you now? i can keep fucking you? please say yes."

You laugh. "yes, you can keep fucking me, on one condition."

"anything for you. what is it?"

"you promise to always cuddle me after."

"i promise to always cuddle you, whether we fucked or not."

a/n: love y/all and thanks for all the support! enjoy :)

🏷️ taglist: @y3sterdaysproblem @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan

reply/msg/inbox and ask to be added to the taglist!

cake divider by @dollywons, apple divider by @ithemes, and heart divider by @cafekitsune

[veronicangel]

UNDER YOUR SPELL

daisuke - mouthwashing

cw: smut, in this au nothing that bad happens,, everyone stays alive and jimmy isnt a b word, daisuke cums in his boxers lmao, l bomb!, very rushed lmao

it had been months since he's had any sort of pleasure. it's all stressful these days with what happened on the pony express. no matter what, swansea, curly, and jimmy are on him about anything. he is just so exhausted and in need of some relief. and seriously, the only sort of relief he gets is from you. you are just so kind to him. whenever he does something and you tell him he did a good job, or when he helps you with something and you tell him how amazing he is.

he can't help but think of you laying in his bed late at night. it was silent on the ship, and he was alone with his thoughts. he couldn't help but envision you. he thought of the way your hair was so beautiful and the way it would look in his hands. he thought of your pretty eyes and how they would look looking up at him with your plush lips full with him. he thought of your body, the way it curves at your hips, the way your waist would fit his arm perfectly, your chest and how perfectly your tits would fit in his mouth. he felt so perverted thinking of you this way, but he was completely under your spell. he snapped back into reality when he heard a knock on his door. he didn't know what to do, his pants unbelievably tight just from the thought of you. he, although very lazily, got up and opened the door. his face dusted a light crimson, it was you. he could help but look you up and down. it seems you were in pajamas because you were wearing a tank top and shorts. he's never seen this much of you he didn't know how to react, but his cock reacted on its own.

"hey"

...

"um im sorry for bothering you i just cant sleep"

he was so stupid! why is he staying silent when you're right in front of him?? he could easily just pull you in and tell you everything he thinks of you. he could kiss you now. he could finally have a chance with you so why can't he muster up any words?

"yeah!"

"i'm sorry?"

he could die right now. out of all the things he could say to you he says "yeah!" like an idiot. he could tell you to come in. he knows he wants to cum in you. he could tell you that you could come to him whenever you want.

"i mean come in! sorry i just im tired you know the sleepiness is getting to my brain"

"i'm sorry if you're tired i can go back to my room"

"NO!"

....

you laughed at that. he heard your beautiful laugh. you were so oblivious to your affect on him, just your laugh made him throb.

"if you really want me to stay then i will."

you brushed past him, his hand rubbed on yours just a second, and he felt as if his heart could explode. he's thought about your hand more times than he could count. he watched as you sat in his bed. he's dreamt of you being in his bed over a million times. he rushed over to sit next to you, keeping a small space in between you.

"you know, i think you're really great"

"huh?"

"yeah, i hear what the crew says to you and i don't think it's true at all. i mean without you i wouldn't be able to reach anything really."

you laughed as you said that, but your face turned more serious. you closed the space between you too, scooting yourself closer to him. you put your hand on top of his.

"you're a really great guy you know? you genuinely are really good for us... for me."

the way you held eye contact with him, the way your hand rested on his, the way there was no space seperating you. the praise you gave him. he didn't know what to do or how to react. his face was definitely flushed a deep shade of red.

"i..."

he couldn't get anymore words out because of your lips on his. what's going on? he felt his lips no longer alone as you attached yours to his. he kissed back, although inexperienced, he didn't want this to end. when you pulled back he looked at you in admiration.

"am i dreaming?"

you laughed again, before kissing him again.

"no sweetheart, this is very real"

he felt like if he died right now, he'd be okay with it. you kissed him and you're calling him all those things. he doesn't know what to do. he desires you so badly. ever since he first saw you you've been haunting his thoughts.

"can you... kiss me again?"

you did just as he asked, your lips becoming one with each other. the slow passion made him insane. your hand made its way to his hair and he couldn't help but whimper. he wanted to pull back and apologize but you wouldn't let him. you grabbed his hand and snaked it around your waist, bringing you two even closer. the kiss started getting a fast pace and your tongue slipped into his mouth. this was way past everything he's ever done, he's so new to this, and he's doing with it with you and- his thoughts get interrupted by feeling himself getting pushed back onto his bed. he's now laying down and you on top of him, your lips never seperating.

"daisuke..."

his name left your mouth perfectly, although it wasn't louder than a whisper. he looked up at you, the way your hair framed you both, your eyes looking down on him, your lips red and puffy from your intense make out session, and the look in your eyes that said you want him. it was euphoric.

"what is it...?"

"i want you so badly... do you want me like i want you?"

everything felt too good for him. he wasn't sure this was even real. all he could do was nod desperately. he felt your hands reach the hem of his shirt, and he looked at you with a pink face and nodded again at you. you pulled his shirt over his head and started kissing his neck, then his chest, then his stomach.

"you're so perfect daisuke, i want you all to myself"

his mouth fell agape and his eyes closed, he couldn't help the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he felt your teeth suck on his neck.

"i... i need you (your name) i need you so badly please let me be good for you let me be your good boy"

he led his hands to his waistband and started pulling the rest of clothes off. his face was completely flushed and he couldn't tell if this was really happening. he was now almost completely bare, and he felt really embarrassed.

"you're perfect daisuke... do you wanna see me too?"

before he could answer you grabbed his hands and led them to the hem of your own top, quickly taking it off. you weren't even wearing a bra, he saw you immediately.

"you wanna make each other feel good, daisuke?"

"i need it more than anything (your name)... will you let me?"

you nodded your head and he brought his hands to your shorts. you moved off of him so he could get them off. both of you now only in your underwear. you were now sat next to him and he looked up at you. it was more than anything he's imagined. he's definitely imagined you naked over a hundred times, but the real deal just makes him go over the edge.

"do you want to do this?"

"please touch me.."

his voice was quiet but you did as he asked. your hand reached down to his crotch and you started palming his clothed cock. the sensation brought immediate moans from him.

"you sound so cute daisuke keep making these sounds for me"

your pace quickened and his moans got louder.

"please (your name) i wanna cum for you, i wanna be your good boy, tell me im your good boy"

"you're my good boy daisuke, be my good boy and cum for me"

with your command, he finished in his boxers. his whimpers continued even after the fact. he was just too cute.

"you did so good for me daisuke"

"i.... i love you"

you were facing each other while laying down now, and the word love fell from his mouth. this shocked you but it felt so right hearing it directed at you.

"i love you more daisuke"

lmao i got carried away this was supposed to be rlly short and it was also supposed to be pure smut but it ended up being fluff and barely smut 🌚 this was also supposed to go a completely different way so if you guys want to see that lmk cuz i will write it for you guys if you want 😼

[nana-au]

i have headcanons for church boy! yuta/eren. bear with me.

yuta would act innocent and be innocent.

eren would act innocent and actually be a fucking freak.

note: sorry to any religious readers, but for this drabble's sake, i am identifying reader as agnostic/atheist. please refrain from reading this fic if you may get offended. my intentions are not to disrespect anyone or their religion.

both of them were raised in the church, their fathers being pastors so they have this pressure to be good boys. i imagine they both wear the purity rings their family gave them and they spend all their free time at the church. helping their dad find topics for his sermons, volunteering at summer bible camp, putting up decorations for holidays, etc.

maybe you would meet them at bible study. at first you were annoyed your parents signed you up for it but once you saw the tall, dark haired boy at the front of the room you suddenly couldn't think of being anywhere better.

they both would be the spitting image of perfection. dressed in their sunday best, without a wrinkle on their dress shirt. eren would probably have his sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing when he leaned across the table to help the girl in front of you find her page.

both of them would have spotless, leather shoes that went click clack click clack across the linoleum floor of the now sweltering bible study classroom.

yuta would be so enthusiastic leading the group. his smile genuine and his gelled hair a little messy from constantly running a hand through it. his dark eyes somehow became the lightest things in the room while he dived into passage after passage.

the two of them would introduce themselves to you upon noticing how lost you looked. your parents had decided to turn a new leaf, and suddenly you all went from only attending every christmas/easter service to your family attending every sunday sermon. to say the adjustment was unwelcomed for you would be sort of an understatement. you felt lost while listening to your pastor bring up names like 'corinthians'... and who even is 'matthew'? You were exhausted, and burnt out and how bad of a teacher would they be to not notice someone who needed some guidance in the teaching's of the lord?

yuta would introduce himself - his smile a permanent fixture on his face while he shakes your hand. "if you have any questions, please don't be afraid to ask," he promises you, "that's what I'm here for." his voice was soft and his hand would basically swallow yours in his grasp - but his grip on you was gentle. you could only nod, your ability to speak lost on you upon receiving his undivided attention. his presence could only be described as angelic. his eyes on you felt like sun rays on a cool summer day and his touch felt like water - quenching a thirst inside of you that you didn't realize you had. he caused your breath to catch in your throat but if he noticed he didn't point it out. he was far too polite for that. in reality, yuta was unaware of his affect on people; especially you. you knew that if he was aware - he wasn't the type to take advantage of it.

eren wouldn't be able to hold back a smirk watching you struggle to keep up with what everyone else seemed to understand with ease. he would come over to your table group, singling you out loudly in front of everyone, "having a little trouble?" ...to anyone who was used to seeing eren every day since a young boy they would believe his expression showed genuine concern. but all you saw was a man unwilling to hide his smirk as you stuttered your way through a verse. a man utterly amused being in the presence of a girl who wasn't raised the way he was. he always seemed to linger behind you after your first interaction with him. he watched you highlight the passages he read out loud and witnessed you doodling in the little notebook that was meant for you to annotate. he leaned over your chair, his arms caging you between him and his chest pressing against your back. "cute. but let's make sure we're focusing, hmm?" he whispered into your ear.

they both would end up inviting you to do private studies with them at their home - they were the pastor's son after all - and what better way to prepare to take over as pastor one day then to be able to bring an unbeliever into the light of god?

you couldn't deny them even if you tried. there was something about them that drew you closer.

eren was all-consuming. there was something about the way he carried himself - domineering almost. the tan skin of his neck flexing with every deep swallow he took - his gaze unnerving under the fluorescent lighting of the bible study room while he watched you thumb through the pages of your clearly unused bible.

yuta was electric. he held a youthful attitude towards everything. the kind of carefree only a man of faith could have; so sure of his beliefs and finding comfort in the stories he taught. he was kind, and warm... you hadn't thought it possible to find a man so gentle. or easily flustered.

you had realized the both of them had a deeper reasoning to invite you to study at their house - whether they were aware of it or not.

(pt. 2 coming soon i have to go to work :sob:)

[genderqueerdykes]

I can't reply to the post directly but I saw a post where you were talking about trans masc erasure especially when you were in college and like....I feel it. I started college in 2003 and identified as a cis butch lesbian because I didn't know there was anything else to be, but also MOST IMPORTANTLY because my "resources" and info on trans men were basically Boys Don't Cry, which every lesbian I knew referred to as a lesbian film and Brandon Teena as a lesbian. There were also vague comments from time to time about Chaz Bono at some point, but again, everyone around me was referring to him as a "confused lesbian". What's frustrating these days is that while there is more information out there and more spaces, there still isn't enough. Like, I learned basically everything I know about my body from Gen Z friends who had better education and affirming teachers. And also finding space when you're almost 40 is an impossible task sometimes. At almost every trans masc group I've attended I've been the oldest by almost 10 or sometimes almost 15 years. It's a really lonely experience. A handful of times we've had moderators who are young and not trans masc and they've talked over me and tried to "correct" the language I use to talk about my experiences - for example, I call myself FTM, and I also say things like "when I was presenting as a woman" or "when I thought I was a lesbian". I use this language intentionally because there were over 30 years of my life where I had no idea of the possibility that I could be anything but a woman and that IS how I identified, and there are over 30 years of experience with that identity that I am still recovering from and that shaped the course of my life in a way that's difficult or impossible to explain without acknowledging it. Part of our erasure unfortunately comes within the community and people not listening to the experiences of others whose journey doesn't line up with the plot beats of a cinematic, linear coming out story (not to knock that if someone has it! But leave room for those of us who don't!). Even though I'm on T and have had top surgery, there's still so much I've had to figure out myself and it's a lonely life. I don't know how to date or make connections (or even if I should! I'm aromantic which I think complicates things sometimes). Anyway I don't know if any of this is relevant but like. I just wanted to say I relate to the erasure stuff. Wouldn't change who I am for anything, but I would change the world in which I had to figure it out.

im really sorry you can relate to this, it affects so many people and a lot of people are proud to say they don't care. it's not okay. trans men and mascs need community irl. i'm bet things were way harder back then, i can't even imagine how hard it must've been to talk about being transmasculine in 2003.

im going to keep my reply brief because i do not want to distract from your experience

[luv-beam]

SURPRISEEE!!! i finished some things early and realized i had a lot of time tonight, so here i am!!! really, just a treat for me heh:

• dropping us immediately into everything-has-gone-to-shit oh ur praying on our downfall TT like the distance is palpable... and hao 😭 oh sweet, protective big brother hao 😭

• THE TULIPS??!?@!( STRETCHING TOWARD THE SKY??? my chest hurts .. the way yn looks at the garden now. like ik how it feels when something/someplace u once considered ur safe haven or safety net becomes corrupt,, twists the heart

• YOU WOULD NOT COME HERE AGAIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 UGLY CRYING its the way "at least not alone" comes right after and i wonder if seokmin feels the same bc he also walked by, but only w minghao (granted, this isnt his house but...) and bc u write that they were BOTH affected (im not delulu am i...)

• vapid fop... what if i chuckled hahah

• also HELLO YOON JEONGHAN (u couldn't resist, could u, tara ;))) "a balm to the bruised parts" oh. im honestly living for jeonghans character and that in some other life, he and yn might actually make the perfect match (also mama xu doing mama matchmaker things w said thinly veiled glee is everything)

• its interesting that seok and hannie have kind of switched tropes? idk if that makes sense, but jeonghan as the warm, comforting presence and seokmin as the teasing, haunting ex-relation. its interesting seeing them both in these contexts and i like the subtle way u point to seokmin still having feelings for her or, yk, CARING ABT HER

• oh so nooow u try to play nice ..... jkjk im sorry i have assumed yns soul at this moment LMFAOOO (we're at the return of hao)

• i have sm pettiness in my bones that i emoathize w yn too well in this section LOL like yn was holding back, she could have snubbed him even more thoroughly imo !!! the dettached politeness and careful dismissal of his attempts at conversing w her makes me cackle lol (sorry dk) loved the dialogue/interactions!!!

• "weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction" oooooo welcome back tapestry metaphor 😌 i love imagining all of this like one massive tapestry being weaved in of those big ass looms that u think of from ancient greece

• speaking of intoxicating, the way u described jeonghan previously reminded me of champagne teehee

• the fact that every time seokyn make eye contact w one another the world seems to pause makes me ILL. like u cannot make me think of that slow motion, light fading-esque scene every time like my heart cannot take it

• i feel sick 😭😭😭😭 like damn that hurts... like u hate to see them doing so much better than u and u capture that bittersweet heartache/break so well :')))

• like sure seok's reputation might have been scuffed a little when she ran away, but all of that negative social consequence is given to yn, not seokmin. and the domino effect of all her "mistakes" and all this isolation is so... accurate? truly, her isolation and helplessness/defeat can be felt thru the screen

• i can kind of imagine the scene where yns escaped back home and is just sitting in the dark,, like the muffled sounds of partygoers and then the door closes and it's so quiet... man im so sad for her

• "ah i see my sister's charming everyone tonight" PLS I LOVE U HAO 😭😭😭 he's such a sweet older brother bye skfndjfj the way he's so protective im so

• i am kind of curious if yn has realized/forgiven seokmin in some way? like ik she's bitter and also heartbroken cuz she felt stupid for believing he could love her back, but at this point, she seems to have forgiven hao in some capacity for trying to help her "save her prospects" last chapter. so would it be safe to say that she's forgiven seok for going along w it too? or ig,, its a little more complicated than that huh

• damn someone who can make even jeonghan nervous/uncertain? crazy lol

• all this time passing MAKES. ME. SO. SAD. FOR. HER. 😭😭😭

• i agree w yn, the tulips bring an unwelcoke reminder of seokmin 😌 sorry seokmin

• the gaping hole and taut tension during the brief scene of spring age 22 is so JSNFKDJFJ RAAAAAAAAH ik im on yns side but like i need to strap this girl to an armchair so they can talk shit out 😭 i love longing so much but i also wanna tear my hair out

• i looove that u describe each and every ball/society event in its own way, like they have their own unique personalities!! :'))) like this one as a kaleidoscope... so beautiful, its a pleasure to my mind. on a similar note, the way u described sohee's dress and appearance was MWAH!! like i can picture exactly what she looks like, she's such a vibrant and living character in my mind. though the irony is not lost on me how her appearance/dress is described in such similar detail as when yn was a debutante 💔 like she's now been cast aside and it no longer matters how well she dresses; no one expects her to steal the spotlight

• oh but this one hurts 😭 ^ like it was established in chapter one that she must exhibit restraint and hope often slips through ones fingers like water, and it's heartbreaking and utterly depressing that she kind of lives thru these younger girls' experiences bc she never got her happily ever after. ur not only sidelined, but ur forced to watch someone live the life u were supposed to have (its so cruel 😭)

• "i suspect that there's still magic left in ur own waltz" OH I HAAAATE UUUUUUU YOON JEONGHAN WHY DID U HAVE TO END UP SO GOOD 😭 why r u making me like him tara 😭😭😭😭 not the second male lead 😭 now i want him and yn to end up together

• a reminder of what ive lost... the ache... ugh its so good...

• ONCE AGAIN. the imagery is perfection. like ur painting of the gardens at night in my mind is SUBLIME

• SHE WAS MINE FIRST OH JEONGHAN (´Д⊂ヽ OHHHHH I SO WANT U RN ive always sensed this kindred heartache btwn us, bestie. also just both of them coveting a hand that isnt theirs... goddamn, it's always the pining and forbidden that gets me

• but also totally digging the offer for a loveless marriage. like they can totally just make the best of it :')) its clear that they get along, and who knows.. it could turn into some semblance of love :')) i like to think that he's a little desperate himself while trying to convince yn to take up his offer. although a man won't get as much blow back for being unmarried, he's still a viscount. mutual desperation, mutual heartache... just drawing connections heh

• A GARDEN PARTY IN THE QUEEN'S GARDEN AND YET ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PANEL TO ADD TO OUR GROWING TAPESTRY WEEEE

• "punctuated by the delicate notes" oo i just had to say that i love that word choice, it scratches an itch in my brain

• oh. thats quite the uh scandalous position their seokie... also just the way that time seemed to slow down again, but this time, yns trying so desperately to put on a strong face that seems so ready to slip off at a moment's notice. like i can feel her trying to pull herself up by her bootstraps and not fall apart

• never mind my question was just answered 😭😭😭 yn baby pls i know ur terribly depressed but U NEED TO HEAR HIM OUT . PLEASE.

• I LOOOOVE THE ENDING, LIKE I LOVE THAT WE'VE ENDED UP HERE OF ALL PLACES LIKE OOOOOOO PETTINESS HAHAHAHAH

if u couldn't discern it, i loved this chapter so much!!!! :'))) like the superstar was definitely the tension and the push and pull of emotions as yn experiences her young life flash before eyes skcnkdnf i love that you've ghrown a wrench into the plot of seokyn via one very handsome and persuasive and lovelorn yoon jeonghan 🫂🫂 i cant WAIT to read seok's reaction, and EVERYONE'S reactions for that matter LMFAO i am so enjoying this series so far tara, tysm for ur hard work !!! 💖

The Somerset Affair Chapter 3: Promises Bathed in Moonlight

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 3 took forever too lol // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys

summary: maybe you really are well and truly alone.

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here! series masterlist

The First Year: Summer Age 19

The first season after that fateful night was like a hazy dream. When you returned to the social scene, the whispers followed: why had Lord Lee disappeared from your side, so abruptly and publicly, leaving you to stand alone in the wake of his departure?

You endured it with a forced smile, accepting dances from any man who offered. Seokmin, when you saw him, was always nearby yet achingly out of reach, just beyond the edge of the crowd, his gaze never straying to you. Minghao, perhaps sensing the fraught silence between you, would draw you into conversation whenever he could, his manner protective, his eyes wary.

The estate gardens were nothing short of stunning in the late spring. Bursts of red and yellow tulips stretched toward the sky, their vibrant hues softened only by the ivy draping from the nearby trellis. The whole scene was picturesque, brimming with life and warmth. Yet, to you, it held only shadows, echoes of laughter from a time that now felt far away.

You’d meant to pass by quickly, perhaps even avoid the gardens altogether, but the pull was magnetic, the memories nestled there too insistent to ignore. This had been your sanctuary, your haven of whispered secrets and boundless dreams. You had spent countless summer afternoons here with Seokmin, lying on the grass, watching clouds drift lazily by as he teased you with nonsense riddles and ridiculous tales. He’d always made you laugh—those moments had seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the certainty that nothing would ever change.

But change it had.

Now, as you stood among the tulips, their bright faces tilted toward the sun, you felt as if you were the only one left in shadow. Each flower seemed to mock you, as if asking why you had come back when he was no longer here to share it with you. You could almost hear his laughter in the rustling leaves, a phantom sound that made your heart ache.

You allowed yourself one indulgent moment of memory, one small surrender to the warmth of the past. In that instant, you could almost feel his presence beside you, could almost hear him sigh as he lay back against the grass and urged you to do the same. Tulip, he’d called you once, likening you to the flowers here—delicate, bright, full of life. His voice drifted through your mind like a warm breeze, and you closed your eyes, feeling the bittersweet pang of loss settle deeper into your chest.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the quiet, and you froze. It was the low murmur of a familiar voice—Seokmin’s voice—wafting toward you from the entrance of the garden. You barely made out the words, some easy greeting exchanged with Minghao as the two approached. The cadence of his voice was softer now, more mature perhaps, but unmistakably his. In an instant, the fragile calm you’d managed to summon evaporated, replaced by a panicked urgency to flee.

You turned on your heel, lifting your skirts as you hurried toward a narrow, shaded path, heart pounding as if you were a trespasser in your own sanctuary. You slipped behind the thick ivy-covered trellis, your fingers clutching the delicate lace of your gloves as you pressed your back against the rough wood. There, hidden from sight, you held your breath, willing your heart to quiet, afraid he might hear it even from a distance.

He paused at the garden’s entrance, his voice carrying lightly on the breeze, mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It was a voice you had known too well, one that had once woven a thousand dreams in these very gardens. But now, standing there alone and concealed, all you could feel was the sharp edge of those dreams turned to dust.

You dared not look, dared not even breathe until his voice faded and the crunch of gravel beneath his feet grew distant. Only then did you step out from your hiding place, the scene around you as unchanged and pristine as ever. But it felt different, achingly empty. He was gone, and so, you realized, was something inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as you turned away from the gardens, swallowing against the emotion lodged in your throat. You would not come here again—at least, not alone.

That first year passed slowly, the memory of him shadowing you at every event, every garden, every dance, leaving you both haunted and empty.

The Second Year: Autumn Age 20

As autumn arrived, the weight of that lost season faded slightly, turning to something colder, something sharper. You found yourself no longer seeking him out at every ball. Instead, you steeled yourself, donning an unapproachable mask that suited you better with each passing day. Your brother had chosen to spend the season traveling, claiming that the sea salt of Grecian air was calling him. The absence of his protection meant that you had to sail the rough shores of that season alone – Minghao’s letters were frequent and welcomed, always ready to provide words of assurance from thousands of miles away. 

Your second season was to be markedly different—by your design and no one else’s. The naive enthusiasm of your first season had faded, replaced by a wariness that had hardened around you like a shell. Suitors still called upon you, though they were fewer and far between, and the gentlemen of impeccable standing, those your mother deemed suitable, grew distant with each passing event. They would approach with polite intentions, murmuring some pleasantry or another, only to bow and make haste to another part of the room where more receptive young ladies waited. 

Yet, for all the polite avoidance and empty conversation, there was Lord Yoon Jeonghan, the Viscount of Hastings. He was different—not at all the cold and detached nobleman that society often produced, nor the vapid fop more concerned with his cufflinks than his conversation. He was witty, charming even, and his remarks would often spark a laugh that you could scarcely suppress. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time you spoke, as if you were unraveling a particularly delightful mystery, and for those brief moments, he made you almost forget.

Almost.

You felt his gaze often, lingering in the spaces between words, and sometimes, if you were honest with yourself, it was almost enough to ease the ache that had taken root in your chest. There was a certain warmth to his presence, a lightheartedness that let you slip free from the burdensome weight of the past. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his interest immediately. She seized upon his attentions with thinly veiled glee, her gaze often flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating. She would arrange you beside him at dinners, leave you in his company at the slightest opportunity, her encouragement subtle yet unmistakable.

Jeonghan would lean in close, his words laced with humor, often turning some mundane observation into something absurdly funny. And for a fleeting second, the laughter would come easily, a balm to the bruised and hidden parts of yourself. You allowed yourself to think, Maybe this could work.

But the quiet, hollow ache lingered, a constant reminder of the ghost you could not quite shake. And that ghost was Seokmin.

Seokmin, who watched from across the room, his gaze burning, perceptive as ever. He was polite, distant even, but his presence was always there, like the flicker of candlelight that neither dimmed nor died. You could feel it most keenly when you danced with other men, swirling across the floor to the strains of violins and cellos. Once, as you stepped onto the ballroom floor with Jeonghan, you felt Seokmin’s gaze settle on you from across the room. The intensity of it was enough to make your skin prickle, and suddenly you were painfully aware of every step, every turn.

The first misstep was subtle—a slight stumble over the Viscount’s foot. But as you met Seokmin’s eyes, his brow lifted ever so slightly, a smirk hovering just on the edge of his mouth. That subtle, amused expression set your pulse racing in a way you would never confess. And in your distracted state, you stumbled again, this time nearly losing your balance. Jeonghan chuckled, mistaking your lapse for some charming display of nervousness, too oblivious to realize the true reason for your faltering steps.

Seokmin’s gaze, however, saw straight through you. His smirk was knowing, almost taunting, as though he could see past every mask, every effort you’d put into your newfound resolve. It was maddening—the way he could still get under your skin, the way he seemed to enjoy watching you unravel, even if only for a second. The lingering effects of that look stayed with you long after the music ended, clinging to you like perfume.

And so, you spent the season caught between two worlds. Lord Yoon, with his charm and his lightheartedness, who could ease the bitterness that lay thick upon your heart if only for a while. And Seokmin, a relentless presence, haunting you from across every ballroom and garden, his gaze a tether you could never quite sever. It was a delicate dance, one you performed night after night, hoping, in vain, that one day you would not feel his eyes on you at all.

The afternoon sun angled low over the estate, bathing the drawing room in a cool October light that poured through the high windows, softening the sharp edges of the day. Minghao had just returned from his travels and had brought back a novel he thought you would enjoy—Jane Eyre, by a Miss Brontë. The air was thick with the quiet thrill of this gift, the promise of evenings spent lost in its pages, and you had just begun to express your excitement when Minghao, with his usual calm, announced that Seokmin had accompanied him.

You schooled your face to remain pleasant, though your pulse quickened at the mention of his name. And indeed, there he stood by the door, his posture polite yet tense, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. He offered a slight bow, his gaze fixed on you even as you looked firmly at your brother.

"Did you know," Minghao began, oblivious to the tension in the room as he handed you the book, "that the author published it under a man’s name? Some say it’s because she thought her work would be dismissed otherwise."

You managed a small smile, allowing yourself the momentary reprieve of this topic. “Thank you, Minghao,” you replied, fingers grazing the embossed cover. “I’ll cherish it. It sounds wonderful.”

Across the room, Seokmin shifted, clearing his throat. "Do you find time to read often these days?" His voice was tentative, a hint of hope or maybe familiarity clinging to the question, as if reaching for a bridge long burned.

Your reply was smooth and immediate, though you kept your gaze firmly on Minghao, as if Seokmin had merely been a ghost in the room. "I make time, yes. It’s quite necessary, given the, ah… limited options for conversation."

A faint hint of color rose to Seokmin’s cheeks, but he quickly smothered whatever response he had been about to make. Minghao glanced between you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pieced together the simmering tension, the edges of a puzzle he hadn’t been around to see formed.

There was a brief pause, heavy as stones, before Seokmin tried again. "Do you still ride out to the southern fields? I remember…" He hesitated, his words trailing off before he finished. “The views from the hilltops there were always lovely in the fall.”

It was a simple question, a nod to a pastime you had once enjoyed, but the memories it evoked—the two of you racing across the meadows, laughing breathlessly under the open sky, sharing quiet moments on that hilltop he spoke of—all felt too sharp, too close. You tightened your grip on the book, the rough binding grounding you in the present.

"Occasionally," you murmured, as if speaking to no one in particular. Your tone was clipped, devoid of warmth, and you let the silence stretch, long enough for the weight of his words to fade. After a beat, you forced yourself to stand, smoothing the fabric of your dress as you prepared to excuse yourself. “Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seokmin’s face barely shifted, yet the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features was unmistakable. "Wait, please—" he began, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “I… wanted to know if you might—”

You looked over at Minghao, not giving Seokmin the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. “Thank you for the book, brother,” you said softly. “I’ll look forward to discussing it with you when I’ve read it.” And with that, you turned, leaving the drawing room before Seokmin could finish his thought.

You could feel his eyes on your back, a silent, unyielding weight as you retreated, but you pushed down the churning emotions in your chest.

Later, your mother found you in the library, a faintly exasperated look in her eye. "What has possessed you to act so sharply towards Lord Lee? He is a friend of your brother’s, and a gentleman. I hardly think it was necessary to snub him quite so… thoroughly."

"I simply wasn’t inclined to entertain him," you replied, not lifting your gaze from the book you had barely managed to focus on since leaving the drawing room. “It was not my intention to be rude, Mother.”

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “He asked after you very kindly. And if you cannot manage the simple courtesy of conversation, well…” Her sigh was laden with disappointment, tinged with the faintest trace of resignation. “It does make things rather difficult for you, don’t you think?”

You didn’t respond, clamping your lips shut and focusing on the words of Jane Eyre as if they might hold an escape. What could you say? That politeness was a currency you could not afford to spend on him? That every pleasantry only made the knife in your back twist a little deeper?

There was nothing to be done, and so you said nothing at all. The book lay heavy in your lap, unread, as your mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, her silence more cutting than words.

The Third Year: Winter Age 21

The winter air nipped at every inch of bare skin as you stepped out of the carriage and into the towering, grand hall where that night’s ball was being held. Snow blanketed the world outside, a thick layer that muffled everything it touched, leaving only the crunch of footsteps and the soft murmur of the wind. The frost bit through your gloves, but it was nothing compared to the cold lodged deep within your chest. You drew yourself up and stepped into the hall, a practiced smile on your face as you greeted the hosts and exchanged pleasantries.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction. You navigated through clusters of guests with practiced ease, inclining your head and making idle conversation that barely skimmed the surface. You had come to know the routines well, slipping into this role as though it were armor: a mask of charm, a shield of grace. It kept you safe, even as it kept others at arm’s length.

But then, just as you were making your way toward a friend by the window, you spotted him—Seokmin, across the room. He was surrounded by a small group of gentlemen, his laughter carrying over the din as he shared some amusing story. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you’d once adored. For a moment, a whisper of memory drifted to you unbidden—those nights by the garden, his laughter mingling with the soft hum of summer crickets, a harmony you’d taken for granted. The sight of him now, seemingly unaffected by the hollow ache that had lodged itself so firmly within you, twisted something in your chest.

As though he could feel your gaze, his eyes turned toward you, catching you unprepared. His laughter faded, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, regret, perhaps. Or something more resigned, an acceptance of the chasm that had grown between you. He made no move toward you; there was only a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement of… something. You couldn’t name it, and you didn’t want to try.

It was his easy return to conversation that undid you. The way he turned back to his companions, laughing once more, as if nothing had changed, as if the years you’d spent trying to bury the echoes of that ball could be erased so simply. The laughter that once filled you with warmth now rang hollow in your ears, a reminder of all that was lost and all that could never be reclaimed.

The walls of the ballroom began to feel oppressive, the cloying warmth of bodies and perfume suffocating. You pressed a gloved hand to your temple, feigning discomfort as you turned to your nearest acquaintance. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you murmured, a faint tremor in your voice that you hoped was undetectable.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right? You do look rather pale,” she said with concern, her eyes scanning your face. “Perhaps some fresh air?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely holding together the thin fabric of your composure. “Yes, that may be best.”

With a polite smile and promises to catch up at the next event, you drifted toward the doorway, slipping through the crowd as unobtrusively as you could. The cold air in the entry hall was a shock, but you welcomed it, letting it bite into your cheeks and ground you.

Soon enough, you found yourself in your room, finally alone. The silent darkness enveloped you, and for the first time that night, you let yourself drop the mask. You sank into the nearest armchair, clutching the armrests as if they could anchor you. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. There was no warmth, no comfort in the scene, only the lingering shadows of a memory that refused to fade.

You had no energy to reach for a book, nor did you bother lighting the fireplace. Instead, you sat, letting the silence swell around you, filling the empty spaces that had been left in Seokmin’s wake. Your gaze lingered on the frost etching delicate patterns across the glass, and for a moment, you wondered if he was still at the ball, still laughing, still untouched by the winter that had settled so deep within you.

It felt almost foolish to mourn something you had lost so long ago, but as the hours slipped by, you couldn’t bring yourself to shake the feeling.

The bitterness reached new heights that year. Your relationship with Minghao, however, began to shift. He sensed your resolve, noticed the way you shrank from any mention of Seokmin, and quietly took up the role of your champion. He became your shield at social gatherings, a polite, steadfast presence whenever your mother hinted at your dwindling prospects or a suitor left you standing alone. Your mother’s eyes, ever watchful, lingered upon you with a barely hidden concern, her gaze darting to the eligible gentlemen nearby and then to you with that familiar, expectant look.

“You know,” she began in a low voice, “if you were only a touch more… approachable, it might encourage the young men here to consider you more seriously.”

You forced a small smile, the words heavy and stale from years of repetition. “I’ll do my best, Mama.”

But before she could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

“Ah, I see my sister is charming everyone tonight,” Minghao remarked smoothly as he appeared beside you, offering a short bow to your mother. “May I borrow her for a moment?”

Your mother’s gaze softened—she had never worried over Minghao as she did with you, and his title afforded him some measure of leniency that you could never claim. She nodded, though her expression remained faintly expectant as she watched you both step away.

Minghao led you toward the edge of the ballroom, his arm steady around yours as you wove through the crowd. Once there, he turned to you with a look that spoke of both amusement and concern.

“You looked ready to flee,” he observed, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Would you like a few minutes’ reprieve?”

You sighed, grateful for his intervention. “I was beginning to feel like a prized cow at market,” you replied, tone dry. “Thank you for sparing me.”

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he studied you. “I noticed Mother watching you rather closely. And I know her remarks can be… persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way of putting it,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper. “She insists that my chances dwindle each season, that—” You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Minghao’s gaze softened, and he sighed, reaching out to adjust the lace of your cuff in a gentle, brotherly gesture. “You’ve nothing to prove to her or to anyone else here,” he said quietly. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be here to see you through the night.”

Despite the stifling heat of the ballroom, his presence felt like a breath of fresh air—a lifeline against the unrelenting pressure of society and its expectations.

“And if any gentleman dares to turn his back on you tonight,” he added, his voice adopting a playful lilt, “I shall personally see to it that he regrets it.”

The corners of your mouth lifted into a small, appreciative smile. Minghao’s protectiveness was a comfort you rarely admitted to needing, but tonight, you couldn’t help feeling grateful that he saw past your composed exterior to the worry lingering beneath.

The music shifted to a slower waltz, and he extended his hand with a knowing smile. “Shall we dance, sister? A waltz is far more agreeable than enduring Mother’s lectures, I assure you.”

You accepted his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. As you twirled together, the swirling silks and laughter around you faded into the background, leaving only the familiar warmth of his presence.

After a moment, he leaned in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And for what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you have no need of any of these foppish gentlemen. They should consider themselves lucky if they could win even a passing glance from you.”

The sincerity in his words soothed you, and for a brief moment, the ballroom was no longer a daunting place, nor its occupants a source of anxiety. Minghao’s quiet strength steadied you, his steadfast support as dependable as the rhythm of the waltz beneath your feet.

Yet, even with Minghao’s silent support, Seokmin’s laughter ringing through the ballroom haunted you, echoing a reminder of what you once had and what you had lost.

Across the room, your gaze flickered to a familiar figure, the Lord Viscount Yoon, the lightness of his presence breaking through your somber thoughts. He had been different—his clever banter had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel lively and engaging. When he spoke, it was as if he was inviting you into an exclusive circle of shared secrets and laughter, making you momentarily forget the weight of expectations pressing down on you. 

Even now, he stood amidst a group of gentlemen, engaging in light banter that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time he caught your gaze, but he looked away just as quickly, as if your newfound prickly attitude was enough to scare him away. 

Over time, your disinterest had made him less willing to approach you. Though he had shown interest the previous year, the glow in his eyes now held a tinge of uncertainty, as if he had begun to doubt whether your heart remained open to him. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his hesitance, her gaze flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating.

“Perhaps if I were a bit more approachable,” you murmured to Minghao, who nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward Jeonghan.

“Sometimes, it takes more than just approachability,” he replied quietly. “He is a good man, but the more you withdraw, the more he may think he should step back.”

You let the thought linger in your mind, but it was soon drowned out by the sight of Seokmin across the room, leaning in to laugh politely with another woman, a vision of laughter and ease that made your heart twist painfully. The vibrant atmosphere of the ball blurred around you, filled with the laughter of others while your own heart sank, caught between the past and the possibility of a future—one you feared might never be yours again.

The Fourth Year: Spring Age 22

Spring came late that year, but the blossoms in the garden were the most vibrant you had ever seen. Tulips, bright and full of life, lined the path outside your drawing room window. Their sight brought an unwelcome reminder of Seokmin, as if they were mocking the pain that had dulled over the years but never truly healed.

One fateful morning, Seokmin arrived at the estate again, waiting for Minghao in the drawing room. You entered the room unaware of his presence, intending to retrieve a letter you had left on the table. The shock of finding him there, standing alone, was enough to root you to the spot.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. “How have you been?” he asked, breaking the silence, his tone formal but softened by something more vulnerable.

“I try to stay busy,” you replied, refusing to meet his gaze, your own fixed on the tulips outside the window, as if they alone could fortify your resolve. The way they leaned toward the glass, reaching out, seemed a cruel reminder of what you could never reach. You clung to your indifference, fearing that one look at him would undo you.

“Ah,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur. “I see.”

The silence was unbearable, stretching long and wide between you, filled with all the words you had left unsaid. For the first time, you could sense his unease, as though he, too, felt the weight of everything that had come between you. You imagined he might say more, but instead, he fell silent, unwilling or unable to breach the chasm.

When Minghao finally entered the room, his gaze shifted from Seokmin to you, sensing the tension immediately. He offered a warm, lighthearted greeting that brought some relief, yet you felt exposed, as though Seokmin could still see every last flicker of pain beneath your carefully controlled exterior. Minghao’s easy conversation filled the room, and you seized on it as a lifeline, grateful that the moment had passed.

But as you left the drawing room, something inside you felt irrevocably changed. The wound you thought had healed now ached anew, as raw and fresh as ever.

Age 22

The season has turned again, and as you step into the grand ballroom, you are met with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that fill the air with an electric energy. The chandelier overhead sparkles like a constellation of stars, its crystal droplets refracting the warm glow of candlelight that dances across the room. The polished wooden floors gleam underfoot, reflecting the vivid hues of the gowns that swirl around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze.

After five seasons on the market, the whispers of society have cast you in the role of a spinster. No longer the young debutante brimming with promise, you now find yourself almost a chaperone to the eager, wide-eyed debutantes navigating their first seasons. Your newest charge, Sohee, is a whirlwind of youthful exuberance, her bright pink dress adorned with intricate floral appliqués that seem to bloom against her pale skin. The bodice sparkles with tiny beads, catching the light as she twirls, her laughter ringing like bells. You can see the nervous energy in her movements, the way her hands flutter as she points out various gentlemen across the ballroom.

“Oh, look at Lord Lee—what a fine dancer!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gazes at Seokmin. His deep navy jacket contrasts sharply with the pristine white of his shirt, and the cravat around his neck is tied with an effortless elegance that only enhances his charm. The way he carries himself, relaxed and confident, seems to draw the attention of everyone around him.

You try to mask the bitterness rising within you as you observe him. Seokmin entertains Sohee’s infatuated chatter with polite smiles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For a fleeting moment, you are grateful that she has captured his attention, but then the weight of your own feelings crashes over you like a cold wave. The ache in your chest deepens as memories flood your mind—long summers spent chasing fireflies, laughter echoing through the fields as he playfully pursued you with a worm on a stick, or the way he would reward your sharp tongue with that unguarded, carefree laughter.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, Seokmin’s gaze suddenly shifts, catching yours from across the room. Your heart leaps into your throat, a jolt of surprise and embarrassment coursing through you. Mortified that he has noticed your lingering stare, you quickly avert your eyes, but the warmth of your cheeks betrays you. You want to disappear into the vibrant crowd, to escape the intensity of your emotions that seem to swell with every passing second. Yet, even as you force yourself to engage with Sohee’s exuberant chatter, you can feel the weight of Seokmin’s gaze resting on you, a silent reminder of everything you’ve lost and the connection you once shared.

It is a cruel twist of fate, standing on the sidelines while young girls like Sohee chase the dreams you once held so dear. You find yourself in this role, a guide for the naive and hopeful, all the while wishing that you could feel that same thrill of possibility. The grand ballroom, alive with laughter and music, feels both enchanting and suffocating, each dance a reminder of the joys that have slipped through your fingers.

As the music swells and couples begin to sway across the polished floor, you catch glimpses of Sohee and Seokmin amidst the swirling gowns and dapper jackets. They move with an innocent delight that contrasts starkly with the weight of your unspoken feelings. Sohee beams up at him, her laughter bright and infectious, and for a moment, the sight softens the edges of your heartache.

Just then, you feel a presence beside you, and when you turn, you find Viscount Yoon Jeonghan standing there, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. His appearance is as striking as ever; his tailored coat hugs his frame perfectly, and the delicate embroidery along the cuffs catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His hair falls elegantly around his face, framing those sharp features that always seem to hold a hint of mischief.

“They make quite a pair, do they not?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and warm as he gestures subtly toward the young couple. His eyes sparkle with a mix of humor and curiosity, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the lighthearted conversations you once shared, the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

You glance back at Sohee and Seokmin, your heart twisting at the sight of them. “It seems so,” you reply, your tone nonchalant, though the bitterness seeps through. “She is quite taken with him.”

Jeonghan’s gaze lingers on the two, but then shifts back to you, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And yet, I believe it’s Seokmin’s charm that keeps her so enchanted. He has a way of making everyone feel special, does he not?” His words are light, but there’s an underlying sincerity that pulls you in.

“Especially the younger ones,” you add, your voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. You cross your arms, an instinctive barrier against the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Jeonghan tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious.

“Ah, but don’t let that dampen your spirits,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I suspect that there’s still magic left in your own waltz.”

You scoff softly, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “I’ve had my dance, my Lord. It’s only right that I help guide the next generation.”

He nods, as if he understands more than you’ve revealed. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little bit of the spotlight yourself, does it?” His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, an invitation hanging in the air between you.

Taking a deep breath, you accept his invitation with a gentle nod. Jeonghan extends his hand, and with a sense of determination, you place yours in his. The moment you step onto the dance floor, a familiar spark ignites between you. As you move, you find the rhythm of the waltz is an intoxicating escape from the weight of the evening.

His touch is confident yet gentle, guiding you with an ease that sends warmth through your veins. You laugh softly at his playful quips, the way he effortlessly spins you and twirls you beneath the glimmering chandelier. The surrounding laughter and chatter fade into a soft background hum as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

But just as you begin to forget the lingering ache in your heart, a commotion draws your attention away. You glance over to find Sohee in an animated conversation with Seokmin, her eyes wide with excitement. She appears to be swooning—her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink as she clutches her fan, fluttering it in the air as if to cool herself.

And then it happens. As the waltz concludes and the music reaches its crescendo, Seokmin leans down to retrieve Sohee's fan, which had slipped from her grasp in her flurry of emotion. The way he effortlessly picks it up and hands it back to her is undeniably charming. She gazes up at him with unrestrained adoration, and in that moment, it’s as if the entire ballroom falls silent, the air thick with their connection.

Your heart sinks, the joyous moment turning into a bitter reminder of your own unfulfilled longing. You feel the weight of your own feelings crashing down, suffocating the lightness of the dance you just shared with Jeonghan. The innocence of Sohee’s crush, her delight at Seokmin’s attention, stabs at something deep within you, twisting the knife of your heartache just a little deeper.

“Lord Lee is such a gentleman,” Sohee breathes, her eyes sparkling with admiration. You try to smile, but the corners of your mouth feel heavy, the happiness you should feel for her overshadowed by the ache in your chest.

“Quite the pair, indeed,” Jeonghan murmurs beside you, his tone shifting slightly. You glance up at him, but the amusement in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with a knowing sympathy that only intensifies your discomfort.

“I should—” you start, desperate to escape the scene unfolding before you, but Jeonghan catches your gaze, his expression serious yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, concern lacing his voice.

You swallow hard, nodding even though you can feel the tears threatening to brim. “Yes, of course. It’s just… a reminder of what I’ve lost.”

Jeonghan’s eyes soften, understanding radiating from him. “Then let’s step outside for a moment, shall we? A breath of fresh air might do you good.”

You nod again, grateful for his presence, and together you slip away from the dancing couples, leaving behind the laughter and music, hoping the cool night air will ease the weight on your heart. As you step outside, the crisp night air envelops you like a silken shawl, drawing you away from the swirling gaiety of the ballroom. The coolness is a welcome reprieve from the warmth of bodies and laughter, and you relish the soft caress of the breeze against your skin, bringing with it a gentle rustling of leaves that whispers secrets from the garden. The scent of blooming jasmine and sweet honeysuckle mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating, wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace.

You move to the stone balcony, where the moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery glow spilling over the manicured gardens below, illuminating the delicate petals of the flowers that sway gently in the evening light. The grass is cool beneath your feet, a delightful contrast to the warmth of your silk gown, and you can feel the slight dampness of dew beginning to settle on the earth, a reminder of the approaching night.

Fidgeting with the lace hem of your gown, you feel the fabric whisper against your ankles, the soft silk cool to the touch. Your heart races as you catch sight of Jeonghan stepping out to join you, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight. He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You love him,” he states matter-of-factly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, surprise etched across your features. Your fingers tighten around the delicate lace, twisting it nervously as if it could shield you from his piercing gaze.

“It is nothing to shy away from,” he continues, his tone surprisingly earnest. “I have observed the two of you for years, engaging in this delightful dance around each other. You love him. That is a fact. Do not shy away from it—love is a beautiful thing, even if it is tinged with loss.”

You force a laugh, the sound almost bitter. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“And if I am?” Jeonghan counters, his brow arching slightly, inviting you to delve deeper into the conversation.

“Why, then,” you reply, your heart racing with a mixture of intrigue and dread, “it cannot be that only my secrets are shared tonight.”

“Lady Choi,” he says, the shift in his tone unmistakable, as though he is unearthing a long-buried truth.

“The general’s wife?” you ask, the name escaping your lips with an air of disbelief.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, the lightness of the evening is overshadowed by the weight of his admission. “She was mine first,” he admits, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But her father—he was a cruel man—wished to marry her off before I ever had the chance to court her properly, as adults.”

You draw a sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling thick and heavy around you. “Lord Yoon, it is a sin to desire another man’s wife,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as they continue to play with the delicate fabric of your gown.

“And it is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours,” he replies, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice. “It seems we are both trapped in a most unfortunate dilemma, Miss Xu.”

You hesitate, the truth of his words resonating within you like the toll of a distant bell. You find yourself gazing at the garden below, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. “I… suppose.”

His expression softens, the tension between you easing slightly as he steps closer, the distance shrinking as if the night conspires to bring you together. “I have an idea, if you are amenable to it,” he proposes, his voice low and conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing despite the tumult of your thoughts. “I suppose I have no choice but to hear it.”

“Let us… have an arrangement of sorts.”

Your mind races, the absurdity of the suggestion both ludicrous and strangely enticing. “An… arrangement?” you repeat, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“A loveless marriage is better than none at all,” he declares, his eyes glinting with a mixture of seriousness and mischief.

You laugh, unable to contain yourself. “You jest. Have you indulged in more champagne than you can manage?”

“I assure you, I am as clear-headed as the sky on a summer’s day,” he insists, maintaining eye contact with a steady gaze that makes your heart flutter. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Friends? My lord, we have danced a few times, to my mother’s delight,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your voice, though your heart feels heavier with the weight of his words.

He feigns a look of mock hurt, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. “You wound me! We have enjoyed such spirited conversations! I do consider you a friend. And a marriage with a friend—a viscount at that—is nothing to scoff at. Have you given no thought to your future? What happens when your dear brother finds a wife and you are no longer his primary concern?”

The reality of his words settles over you, sending a shiver down your spine. You search the moonlit path, pondering the path that lies ahead. “Just… think about it,” he presses, his voice earnest, the night seemingly holding its breath.

The silence stretches between you, the world around you fading as you consider the proposal. You raise your gaze to his, a flurry of emotions swirling in your heart.

But as the moment hangs in the air, he steps back, creating a chasm of space between you once more. The hope in his eyes flickers like the stars above, illuminating the path of unspoken possibilities.

With a lingering glance, Jeonghan turns to leave, the quiet night reclaiming its stillness. Alone now, you stand beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, a companion that seems to mock your predicament, its light dancing across your skin like a playful breeze. The weight of the evening settles around you, the possibilities of what could have been lingering like a sweet perfume in the air. The garden around you, fragrant and alive, seems to echo your turmoil, the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets a reminder that you are not as alone as you feel—but still, the loneliness wraps around you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.

The Queen’s Garden is even more stunning at twilight, an exquisite tapestry of flora bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns hang from the branches of ancient trees, casting a warm glow that mingles with the fading daylight, creating a magical ambiance that enchants every guest present. Lush greenery and blooming flowers adorn the paths, their fragrant scents—jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle—drifting through the air like a sweet serenade.

As you weave your way through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles, the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth radiating from the lively crowd. The sounds of laughter and spirited conversation wrap around you, punctuated by the delicate notes of a string quartet nestled among the trees, their melodies intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.

Amidst the gaiety, you scan the faces around you, searching for Sohee. Her absence hangs like a whisper, pulling at your awareness.

Just then, your gaze lands on Lord Yoon Jeonghan, standing across the garden. His tall frame commands attention, and as you meet his eyes, he offers you a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He raises his glass in a casual salute, a playful reminder of the “arrangement” he proposed only weeks prior.

But as you turn to continue your search, you hear a soft rustle behind the curtains of the powder room. A frown creases your brow, and with a sense of trepidation, you pull the curtains aside.

What you find steals the breath from your lungs: Sohee, her dress slightly askew, caught in an intimate embrace with Seokmin, hidden from view. Time seems to freeze as you process the scene before you, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into a blur.

They don’t notice your entrance, the warmth of their laughter drifting toward you, blissfully unaware of the precariousness of their moment. A wave of urgency washes over you; you step back, the laughter and music of the ball dimming behind you, overwhelmed by the tension in the air.

The cool mask of indifference you wear feels like a fragile façade, barely holding up against the storm of emotions roiling within you. Every heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the tension crackling in the air. You force yourself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the sharp tang of night air filling your lungs.

You clear your throat, breaking the stillness that envelops the hidden corner where Sohee and Seokmin stand. Your posture is straight, your chin lifted, but your palms feel clammy against the lace of your gown.

“Sohee,” you say, your voice steady and cool, as though dipped in ice, “you should return to your Mama. If anyone else had seen you like this, it would ruin you.” The words hang in the air, each syllable heavy with consequence. You hold her gaze, your eyes fierce, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sohee’s eyes widen, vulnerability flickering across her face like candlelight. The flush staining her cheeks deepens as she processes your words, a mixture of mortification and gratitude washing over her. She nods, biting her lip, and you watch as she slips past you, shoulders squared despite the embarrassment, grateful for your discretion.

Once she disappears back into the sea of guests, the atmosphere shifts. It’s just you and Seokmin now, the weight of the moment pressing down like a thick fog, the sounds of the ballroom fading into a dull roar. For the first time in years, you stand alone with him, the years of silence and distance palpable between you.

You turn to leave, the flutter of your gown trailing behind you, but his voice stops you, soft and tentative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Please, don’t go.”

You whirl around, disbelief etched across your features. “Why on earth? What are you doing here?” Your heart pounds, and your fists clench at your sides, the intensity of the moment clawing at your composure.

He takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking, but the space feels charged with electricity. The use of that name—“tulip”—falls from his lips like a spark igniting a fire inside you. Anger bubbles to the surface, your fingers curling into fists. “You have no right to call me that anymore.”

His expression shifts, desperation creeping into his tone as he opens his palms, a gesture of vulnerability. “It’s been four years, and you still won’t give me the chance to explain myself.”

Your chest tightens at the memories, sharp and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling within you. “So was it because Minghao told you to?”

His gaze darkens, the flicker of regret visible in his eyes. “Yes, but you need to—”

“Good evening, Seokmin.” The words slip from your mouth like ice, cold and final. You turn to leave, your back straight but your heart racing, and he reaches for you, fingers brushing against your arm like a whisper.

You jerk away, anger and hurt surging through you, the fabric of your dress catching in the air as you turn. “Please, stay,” he begs, his voice thick with emotion, almost desperate. “Stay and let me explain—”

You shake your head slowly, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken history. “You lost the right to that four years ago.” Your voice softens, but the resolve behind it remains, a quiet storm ready to break. In a flurry of lace and silk, you turn on your heel, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick grass as you leave him standing there, a distant silhouette against the vibrant backdrop of the garden.

The night air feels cooler as you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. You seek solace in the bustling ballroom, where laughter and music swirl around you, a cacophony that drowns out the echo of your heartache. The warmth of the candles flickers against your skin, the soft glow momentarily comforting amidst the chaos.

The crowd shifts around you, a blur of color and laughter, but everything feels muted—distant—as you navigate back toward the main hall. Your heart still pounds, each beat a reminder of the encounter that lingers, bitter as smoke. And then, across the room, a familiar pair of eyes finds yours: Jeonghan. His gaze is intent, assessing, and as he raises his glass to you with an amused smirk, his words from weeks before echo in your mind: “It is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours.”

The decision is instant, unbidden, like the snap of a thread pulled too tight. Steeling yourself, you weave through the crowd toward him, your mind clearing with each step. Jeonghan turns slightly as you approach, his attention shifting from the men he’d been conversing with. You stop just a breath away, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, even as laughter and chatter fill the air.

“My lord,” you say, voice steady as a blade.

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Miss Xu?” His eyes gleam in the low light, the gold of the candle flames reflecting in them. “I must say, you look rather lovely in this garden.”

“Yes.” The word is simple, yet it feels like a vow, a quiet certainty.

His smile falters for just a second, replaced by a glimmer of surprise in his eyes before he quickly recovers. He leans in slightly, his voice softened but no less intent.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm but resolute. “I shall marry you.”

Jeonghan’s expression settles into something unreadable, a flicker of surprise replaced by the slightest tilt of a smile. He inclines his head, the elegant motion drawing him closer, as though sealing the moment between you.

“A wise decision, Miss Xu,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. The sounds of the garden around you blur into silence, the perfume of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy on the air, and though the world presses on with its merriment, this quiet promise, made in the hush of the queen’s garden, feels irrevocable.

Tagging: @kibs-and-bits@moondustmemories@shinwonderful@ivehypnosis@gwend0lyne@thestoryofana13@mellowamour@blissedjoon@begentlewithme-please @xabsolutelynothingx @reiofsuns2001 @mngyulvrs @mooniewrld @archivistworld @lexyraeworld @ateez-atiny380 @walkinganxiety01 @lovecleastrange @uriguyeok @nenojaems @carefully325 @meowmeowminnie @ts19009 @flickhurstyles

[ofmdrecaps]

01/05-08/2025 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; OFMD Recaps on Mastodon; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wednesdays/Kristian Nairn; Rachel House; Dominic Burgess; Kristen Johnston; Hugo Pierre Martin; Aotearoa Treaty Principles Bill Submissions; Articles; AdoptOurCrew: Call To Action; LettersToSeaForSeason3; Fan Spotlight: Jax/North FL OFMD Cosplay/ Fandom Meet Up; Love Notes/Resources;

== OFMD Recaps on Mastodon! ==

Some awesome news! The absolute sweetest person alive, Lowrah (https://gaypirates.club/@lowrah) has been kind (and brave) enough to join my team and create an OFMD Recaps for Mastodon! She has offered to help crosspost the recaps over to Mastodon (blorbo.social) and manage that which I appreciate so much because I am completely inept at that site! She's also the one helping me with all the alt text (that I am behind at updating tumblr with sorry!) so please send her some massive love if you see her around because she is helping me out so much right now! One thing to note -- Since she's on the other side of the world for me, the recaps cross-posted there will be a bit delayed, so please bare with us :) Thank you so much Laura for all your help! You can check it out here!

Source: OFMD Recaps Mastodon

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= David Jenkins =

David's giving us some interesting updates on the eve of the first cancellation of S2.

Source: David Jenkins bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys was in Auckland recording the first Cryptid Factor show of 2025! For all of you Cryptid Factor fans out there, he's also finally gotten to come in contact with the Sir Ed YETI Expedition backpack!

Source: The Cryptid Factor's IG

= Taika Waititi =

The Golden Globes celebrations were this past weekend and Taika was everywhere!

Source: Loop Mag

Source: Instagram

Source: VasJMorgan's Instagram

= Samba Schutte =

"14 years in LA today✨ Arrived on Ethiopian Christmas with one suitcase and 5 guiding steps I had come up with in my hut while staying in a remote Kenyan village, for my future self who would eventually make it to Hollywood. Hope you’re proud Past Samba🫶"

Source: Samba's Instagram

= Kristian Nairn and Nathan Foad =

Some great news! Wee John Wednesday is back on Wednesday the 15th! This news also has some clown potential, so please clown responsibly everyone!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

Kristian is also going to be attending MegaConLive in Dublin on January 18-19, 2025! Get your tickets at megaconlive.com!

Source: MegaConlive Instagram

= Rachel House =

Rachel House was out with friends looking badass!

Source: Maria Lewis IG

= Dominic Burgess =

Dominic is back from the UK and posted some great "Beef" pics from Skeleton Crew. He fits the Star Wars Vibe so well!

Source: Dominic's bsky

Dominic and several of our other cast members live in California so a lot of folks are being affected by the fires. I'll try to post what I can about safety/news but for now, looks like Dominic and family are prepared.

Source: Dominic's Bsky

= Kristen Johnston =

Our "The Widow Evelyn" is now on Bluesky too! Special thanks to @jilliansauers for catching her!

Source: Kristen Johnston's bsky

= Hugo Pierre Martin =

Our friend and crewmate Hugo Pierre Martin is on Bluesky now! HPM's Bluesky

Source: HPM's Bluesky

= Aotearoa Treaty Principles Bill Submissions =

Now, I generally try to keep "politics" out of the recaps because this is meant to be a positive space for the fans-- but I do know that A LOT of our cast and crew are affected by this bill personally so I do want to throw this in there. It looks like you don't actually have to be a resident of Aotearoa to submit your feelings on the bill. Here is helpful linktree with things you can say and how to submit that I tracked down via a post Rachel House reposted.

Source: NZGreenParty

== Articles ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew! You are article maniacs! So many in so little time! Thank you for always sharing!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== Call To Action From AOC ==

January 9, 2024 marks the first cancellation of S2 of our beloved Show. Our fan-crew, @adoptourcrew has asked that you help support our show by: 1. Taking Action 2. Sharing your love 3. Showing your pride. In short-- sign a petition, share something about the show, tell the world how it affected you! If you can get the #OurFlagMeansDeath, #SaveOFMD and #AdoptOurCrew in there, that's great too! Show all the new and seasoned fans how much you love the show!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== Letters To Sea For Season 3 ==

The Letters to Sea for Season 3 campaign that was being spearheaded by the darling Molly, aka aproperpirate, is finally coming to fruition! Tomorrow is the day the letters should be arriving! Molly had a special message to share re the letting writing campaign!

Source: AProperPirate's Bluesky

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Jax/North FL OFMD Cosplay/ Fandom Meet Up =

Florida crew! One of the Truly Docked members @ladymekaella is hosting a little get together in Jacksonville on Jan 19! Wanna join in? Follow them on facebook! Deets below!

1/19/2025 11am - 2pm, Atlantic Beach, FL 32233

Source: Truly Docked Instagram

== Love Notes / Resources ==

Hey Lovelies, I know 01/09/25 is going to be a very mixed feeling kind of day for everyone. It's the anniversary of the first time S2 was cancelled. It's going to bring up a lot of sad feelings, and you should absolutely sit with those feelings and embrace them. It was a rough time for all of us. There's no shame in feeling that grief again. I know I didn't show it much, but I cried so many times. Seriously, like SO MANY TIMES. My parents asked me if someone whacked me in the face with a shovel (which, thanks folks, I feel so pretty) but it was true-- I was devastated. It was a slow burn for me too because I wanted so very much to keep up hope. Seeing you all really push for the show helped keep me going-- and helped me learn more about how to cope with that kind of grief (and it was grief for so many of us because the show meant so very much-- and changed some of us at our core). No matter how tomorrow makes you feel though, I do want to remind you what came of it. This beautiful community rallied together and did some absolutely AMAZING things this past year (I wish I hadn't been sick this past two weeks cause I wanted to get you some stats). From billboards, to faxing, and calling in to Max, and Netflix, and Amazon, and Apple TV, to raising a SHIT TON of money for SO MANY charities-- to making beautiful works of art and fiction-- to making our cast and crew (not just the actors) feel loved and impactful-- this cancellation brought SO MANY OF US TOGETHER. People stepped out of their comfort zones-- talked to people they didn't know, reached out to streaming platforms and learned to use their voices in ways they'd never done before. We all built our own little communities within the fandom, bit by bit-- and those little communities have spread so much love, and kindness, and made life worth living for so many of us. It's been almost a year for my recaps too-- those officially started on Jan 13th, once again, because of the cancellation, and because of the camaraderie of the crew and all the support we all gave each other. Jan 9 is probably a tough day for most of us, but it's also the catalyst for so many wonderful things, and I'm so very grateful for it in a way. I've gotten to know so many of you, gotten to experience your joy, and participate in your struggles, and vice versa. I've met so many people from all over the world I'd never have once dreamt I could meet-- and I know SO MANY of you have too. This fandom is one of a kind-- and this special show and it's cancellation brought us together. I am still in full clown mode at all times, and I believe S3 is an inevitability, it's just a matter of when-- but no matter when it happens, I'm grateful we got this past year together, and all that came with it. So thank you lovelies. Thank you for being a huge part of my life, and turning it in a much better direction I could ever have thought possible given where I was. Lean on each other tomorrow, okay? We got through this past year together, and we'll get through whatever happens going forward, as a crew. Take care of yourself lovelies, drink some water, and get some sleep. Love you <3

= Resources =

Outside of the fandom in my day job, I work for a company that works with 211's and non profits, and so resources are really important to me. I have a lot I'm aware of, but if anyone has more they'd like to share around, please let me know! I'm happy to spread the word to help people get support they need right now!

For those of you in California or who know some folks who are-- please be sure to download the Watch Duty App, it keeps track and notifies you of nearby fires in real time.

In addition here's some additional info on go bags if you are in the evacuation areas:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Brown Issues (@brownissues)

Source: Brown Issues Instagram

Also looks like Airbnb will be pairing up with LA 211 to offer shelter for those evacuated from the Palisades fire. You can visit www.211la.org for more information.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Drew Droege (@drew_droege)

Source: Drew Doege's Instagram

As I hear more resources I'll try to share more in the recaps/on socials. I hope you all are staying safe out there!

[crewel-intentions]

Munday + Blog Updates

Howdy everybody! Sorry I've been away for so long. Besides depression and burnout kicking my butt, I've also had my interests lying elsewhere most of the time.

That, and very nearly having this blog be terminated and deleted. Thanks, Tumblr.

I'm starting to learn that I just don't have the energy (social, mental, or otherwise) to run askblogs like I used to, especially since I'm going to be working soon on top of this.

So what am I going to do about this? I'm going to be realistic.

I want to finish my blogs and put them in a place where I can feel satisfied ending them. I have a lot of stories I still want to tell with all of them, but the only way to tell them is to continue them. I definitely don't have the energy to update every day, especially since most answers now are short-form comics.

So I'm going to try to update once a week, every week, on Friday.

I'm going to focus primarily on Crewel-Intentions, but once that gets to a decent place, I might switch to @arc-of-creation or @clydes-tale .

To try to get me back into the groove of askblogging, I think i'm going to join the Magi event. I know I'm in the middle of an important arc on the blog, but I think I just really need something that isn't story-intensive, multiple panel answers. I'll probably do more text-based answers, too, both for the event and for the blog in general. It's just easier on me.

Okay, thanks for listening to my rambling! I'm excited to see and talk to everyone again!

If you want to ask me stuff for Munday, go right ahead! Maybe recommend me some new askblogs to follow because I am VERY out of the loop.

I'd also recommend checking to make sure you're following this blog. I don't know if it getting terminated and coming back from the dead affects anything.

[fl0ralsxgar]

Okay... So im going to make one post about this and one post only.

Ive been having issues in this community because of who i self ship with, thats a very vague way of putting it. Ive been made aware of a situation directly that has both equally caused me to get hate and ive noticed some mutuals of mine ignoring me more ever since it started. Under the cut since this is a long post

Okay just to start off first; clearly this must be a burner or something because going to this account directly, its the default tumblr blog theme with no posts or edited bio or anything. Im not going to respond to hate asks anymore, okay? I shouldnt in the first place but usually i tried to address them just a little, mostly wanting to understand why i was being sent it in the first place, my fault. But still. (I still blocked out the user just in case) just to note, this is not the only hate ive been sent in asks lately. I had to cut anon off again. But ig people will still find workarounds.

Okay. I DO NOT. want to cause ANY discomfort, jealousy, negative feelings, etc, just because of who i self ship with. Im sorry its made people uncomfortable because they share the same f/o but i do what i can to ensure they dont see me. I use the same exact tag on my self ship art and gushes and whatever, i dont interact with them, i have them BLOCKED or vice versa, hell i even try to not interact with their mutuals unless if weve already established being mutuals. I even have directly said- if anyone who follows me is mutuals with someone else who is uncomfortable with people interacting with me (or other daisuke self shippers in general) then you dont need to interact with me, because above all else im TRYING to consider the comfort of other people. I have never once tried to make people forcibly side with me, i have never said anyone else is invalid because of their self ship, i have never wanted anyone to be excluded and even, i encourage people to be mutuals with other daisuke self shippers as i can block said daisuke self shippers and they can be given my tag if need be because everyone deserves support. This has been going on for longer than it needs to tbh, i kept thinking i was the issue, i wanted to leave, but now im just .. upset. Whether its all from the same person or not, idk. But please know that above all else causing anyone to feel negatively because of me has never been my intention. Ive been extremely stressed out over this, feeling guilty and horrible, and sometimes aggravated.

Dont vague post about me if you know your followers and mutuals know who youre referring to. And even then, dont do it without first explicitly making it known that you dont condone hate being sent, but ultimately even if you do say that it wont always stop people. Please stop sending me asks trying to invalidate my self ship when ive never done that to anyone else. If youre mutuals with someone who is not okay with you interacting with me then respect those boundaries, because i am super tired of having to deal with the backlash of things im not even trying to cause. I want everyone to be comfortable, i want everyone to feel safe in their own space. But also i dont even feel comfortable in my own space now. I really dont wanna leave the community again tbh, ive made some close mutuals, i love supporting people, i love making my own self ship art and sharing it. But man, im tired!

Ive tried SO hard to keep this in private. I wanted it to be resolved without public notice. But even after i thought it was settled and resolved it hasnt stopped, and i dont even know if its from various people or not. Only very few people know more deeply whats been going on, and i hate that they were affected because of it too in ways. Whatever is going, just, i want it to chill out. Really. I have no ill will for anyone. If you see this and youre someone who has an issue with me you can dm me, ill talk it out with you.

I truly hope none of this comes off wrong, or aggressive or anything. I mean everything with as much respect as i can considering my current state. No matter what i dont condone harassment. I dont want anyone to be excluded. I want everyone to be supported and happy in their space. So please just know that, and if anything has come off wrong let me know. Maybe, im just not thinking the clearest so some things might seem rude or something. Forgive me if that the case.

Theres been ALOT going on the self ship community and i hope everyone will be okay. Dont worry about this if its too stressful, but if youre someone whose involved in this, i want to work things out. So. Thanks for reading if you did. Take care

[eva-does-its-best]

can you shut the fuck up youre making all trans guys look bad so fucking annoying. insane that u cant handle any fucking criticism whatsoever lol holy shit. whole ass fucking paragraph. gotta put that evil mean trans woman in her place right. god forbid someone gets frustrated at being consistently shit on by people in her community. im gonna be so real rn and say that as trans guys / tme people we have it so much easier its actually insane (coming from someone whos been thru corrective rape when i was 12 after i came out as a trans guy btw! theres my fucking pound of flesh. jesus.) not even rly trying to convince u but u just piss me the fuck off annoying as fuck

First off: So sorry about what happened to you, my most sincere condolences. It's the only thing I can really give, hope your life gives you enough peace and happyness to allow you to live with such an event.

Second:

You're making all trans guys look bad

I'm not a trans guy, I'm a transmasc, very different, a difference you should if not care about at least keep in mind if you want to respect less binary forms of masculinity. I don't speak as nor speak for trans guys, because I am not one, maybe if you actually read what I write you would know.

Insane that you can't handle any fucking criticism

Criticism where? Let me be absolutely blunt and sincere: All I see in the posts I replied to is tired, scared and hurt people who cope with said feelings by turning their vents into everyone else's problems.

I vent a fucking lot, everyone can see that, but when I vent I am sincere and point the source of my pain, how I feel, why I feel that way, and which people I believe reinforce it. What I don't do is go out of my way to involve people who have nothing to do with it or with how I feel.

Trust me I know how they feel, and the way they are dealing with it is incredibly self-destructive and I want nothing more than for them to get out of that shitty mental state that hurts them so they can feel better and have a slightly better life and emotional responses to the world.

Whole ass fucking paragraph

Yeah, that is how one transmits ideas. Shocking.

Gotta put that evil mean trans woman in her place right

I've replied to a couple posts so I don't know which one you're talking about, but I've no clue about the gender of the people who I replied to, I simply replied to shitty ideas, don't care who's behind them.

Pretty lame that you try to make this a gender war, don't you think?

God forbid someone gets frustrated at being consistently shit on by people in her community

"her" ok so this is you personally defending someone you know, I can tell.

Statement goes both ways don't you think? You think this is just for fun?? Yeah let's start a conflict that is affecting the lives of real people for fun!

We are fucking tired of the mockery, the disrespect, and the extreme policing of transmasc and trans men's language and experiences by people who have no say in them.

Do you care about that too or are you a hypocrite? Because when I reply to people's shit-ass posts I do in fact care about them otherwise I'd ignore em and let em keep hurting themselves.

"Oh but these ones attacked this person" I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. There are shitheads everywhere, in every opinion and side of any conflict. There are gonna be shitheads who use this as an excuse to attack people of a certain particular gender they already had something against, it is irrelevant to the ideas exposed. Let's not act like there isn't a whole plethora of posts about killing transmasc please, you SHOULD care avout that too.

As transmascs/tme people we have it so much easier

You're free to have an opinion about your own experiences and I have no horse in that race. HOWEVER:

•You're not the only transmasc in the world and your opinion is very clearly not a universal truth, so don't you dare spit on everyone else's experiences by deciding what's true and what's not without counting with them.

• In your dumbass dychotomy of "tma/tme" transmasc are not the only ones put on the "tme" label and the same way I cannot talk about YOUR experiences you have no fucking right to talk about everyone else's experiences specially the ones from other identities and lives that you did not get to be or experience.

•Without dipping my toes in your opinion or your experiences I profoundly disagree with you.

• Lastly, WHO THE FUCK CARES WHO HAS IT WORSE?! WE'RE ALL FUCKING HURT AND BROKEN WE'RE LITERALLY KILLED IN THIS WORLD FOR JUST EXISTING, YOU WANT A COMPETITION??? GO FIGHT FOR TRANS PEOPLE'S RIGHTS TO COMPETE IN SPORTS INSTEAD OF CREATING OPRESSION OLYMPICS. GET YOUR COMFY ASS OUT OF YOUR INTERNET ARMCHAIR AND GO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON IN THE WORLD FFS.

There's my fucking pound of flesh. jesus.

Again so sorry you had to go through that, but you realize the whole point of this is to be able to have words for those specific forms of opression and awful events right?? To have experiences like that respected and treated with the seriousness they deserve right??? That is what we want.

You experienced transandrophobia, and the people you're defending right now don't want you to have a word for it, or allow only words picked by them as if they had any right to speak for you. Respect yourself more, man.

Not even rly trying to convince u but u just piss me the fuck off annoying as fuck

Hey at least you're honest, good. I don't give a fuck though, if you wanna keep hating me I have good news for you: I don't plan to ever shut the fuck up, enjoy.

The one person you hate is not me anyway, that is plain obvious... but that's a you thing to try and work on.

Sayonara dude👋🏻

[sabrinasprincess]

the fact that she didn’t win the election purely because she’s a woman who happens to be non-white is so disgusting and it makes me so angry.

the fact that so many americans would rather vote a convicted rapist to be president over a qualified woman speaks volumes.

my heart breaks for all the innocent victims who will be impacted by tr*mp’s presidency. they do not deserve the shit that he is going to inevitably put them through. i’m so sorry to each and every one of you. this is unfair and cruel.

i’m not american, so i know that my words don’t count for much, but i am british, and, unfortunately, his presidency does have an effect on my country as well as plenty of other countries. but knowing that our countries have a “special relationship” just sucks and we are influenced by america a lot which is kind of a scary thought.

the next four years are going to be long and difficult, especially for those wonderful people whose rights are, more than likely, going to be stripped away from them. what a cruel, unjust world we live in.

i really thought and hoped that kamala was going to win. i felt really positive about it. but like op said, i didn’t factor in the racism and misogyny she’d face. god forbid a woman becomes president. jesus fucking christ. this is so disappointing and heartbreaking.

my heart stands with anyone and everyone affected by his presidency. you all deserve so much better than this. 💕

i got too optimistic and forgot kamala harris was dealing with the combined powers of racism and misogyny

[altschmerzes]

omgggg shipping is not arophobic in the LEAST but keep making us look like whiners with no real problems by continuing to complain about it I guess

yeah that's definitely what i said in any post ever man great job

average person who has made shipping their entire identity will see a post where someone says 'hey please don't say these specific types of things that are degrading and cruel about nonromantic relationships while enjoying your ships and maybe examine the thought processes and beliefs and prejudices that led to saying them' and be like 'oh so you're a whiner with no real problems who thinks shipping is arophobic?'

telling on yourself there bud

[transsexula]

"Just ignore how every minority man is treated, because talking about it is basically like saying some women don't experience misogyny"

Never the point of this convo. In fact, you're literally making up a guy to be mad at. Why is it that a different minority talking about their own issues in their own space makes you feel this way? Why is it a minority making their own words to explain something they experience now an attack on you? Is it, perhaps, that you don't understand the experience and therefore project your own understanding of it onto everyone who speaks about it regardless of THEIR actual experiences?

I'll be the first to admit I don't know every fucking experience out there. I gotta trust my trans sisters when they talk about their experiences- same with any other identity I don't understand. Why are trans men not afforded this? We are literally an oppressed minority. Our bodies are constantly regulated and cracked down on and treated as freakshows. I feel like on some level, as trans people, others have to feel it and see it. Right?

Or are we just supposed to stay invisible?

[veronicangel]

LOSER MONOLOGUE

daisuke - mouthwashing

cw: angst angst angst angst, depression, hint of starvation

he didn't know how he could be so stupid.

"(your name) i really like you and you're just so amazing to be around you're funny and you always laugh at my jokes and-"

why did he think you would feel the same way? how could he think that?

"daisuke..."

he tried to forget the feelings he had for you, but he can't stop his feelings.

"and i think you're so gorgeous too and you always make me feel good about myself and-"

why did he want you so bad? what is it about you he can't let go of? why does he want to talk to you, to laugh with you, to make out with you? why does he want anything from you?

"daisuke please listen to me..."

why did he think this would work out in his favor? nothing ever does. he isn't anything important, even his own parents think so.

"yes, yes , you're right, i'm listening"

nothing ever good comes out of him being around. just goes to show with the crash happening just as soon as he joined the crew. the least he could do is give his own rations to everyone else. he isn't that hungry anyways.

"you're really sweet and handsome daisuke but..."

he was so stupid. that smile he had on his face was useless. he should've known you wouldn't feel the same way. he's nothing compared to you.

"but i don't feel that way about you daisuke. you only think you like me because im the only person available"

why couldn't he show you he liked you for you and not because he has no one else? why could he never express himself? either way it wouldn't have mattered, he isn't enough for you.

"that's not true! i do like you so much (your name)!"

he felt the tears pricking at his eyes again. why is the only thing he can do is cry? why can't he get up and win you over? why can't he get over you?

"please don't argue with me about this daisuke. i don't want this to affect our time on the ship together. i do like you, as a good friend"

he cried into his own hands, how pathetic. he cried at the thought of you. anytime he looks at you, or hears your name, his stomach flips and gets butterflies. you didn't see him in that way though. why would you? everyone knows he's lazy and pathetic. everyone on the crew thinks so and everyone back home does too, so why wouldn't you think that too.

"oh i understand, im sorry for wasting your time. let's forget this ever happened am i right! haha!"

he remembers the moment so clearly. he remember the pitiful smile you gave him before walking back to whatever you were doing before he got to you. why did it have to be like this? he can't stop himself from fantasizing. he can't help himself from imagining how things would be back home. how you and him would move in together, get a cat, and live happily alongside each other, not on a space ship that was doomed from the start.

"you mean so much to me. i wish you'd look at me the way i look at you. i wish i could be with you. i just want to feel the warmth of your body next to mine. to see your smile. i want to play with your hair, see it shine under the sun as it hits you just right. i want to watch the sun sink behind the heavens with you. talk, laugh, make out. anything. i just want anything from you."

he wrote it all down on a random sheet of paper and the only pen he could find on the whole ship. the tears in his eyes dripped onto the paper, ruining his already messy writing. it didn't matter though. he figured you wouldn't want to read his loser monologue anyways.

sorry for the angst guys im depressed so my faves have to be depressed too but for reals who would reject my baby daisuke 🙁

[mushed-kid]

i need to stop speaking forever.

[crescentfool]

i love ryomina

no but seriously. even when i’m thinking about other things that captivate my interest, i find myself coming back to them and feeling like i fell down three whole flights of staircases every time i do. they are one of my favorite pairs in media and are very special to me.

it’s the way that ryoji and minato’s lives are inevitably intertwined with each other due to the circumstances 10 years ago on the moonlight bridge. without no minato, there is no ryoji. minato as he is today is because of ryoji. they have irreparably affected each other’s lives that you cannot discuss one without bringing up the other one.

ryoji mochizuki, who is death, pharos, thanatos, nyx avatar, the man of many names and identities, is the perfect summation of p3′s messages and themes.

minato arisato, the wildcard and protagonist, who has boundless kindness in his actions despite the unfortunate cards handed to him.

the two of them complement each other and tell a beautiful story from start to finish.

minato’s personas capture this perfectly. he awakens to orpheus, who’s flames burns bright, is snuffed out by thanatos during the encounter against the arcana magician. a visual precursor of the idea that ryoji stole from the life that minato could have had.

it’s the way that over the course of the game as minato interacts with pharos, talking throughout the dark hour, forging a bond that cannot be broken, that allows ryoji to exist. minato humanizes death.

november. the bells toll, calling the appriser. and yet, it’s peaceful... quiet, and full of life. ryoji, who breaks free from death’s chains, refusing his role, is given the chance to live for a month. to make the most of the humanity that minato has given him over those ten years. and what a life he lived. ryoji’s life is a reflection of what minato’s life could have been like in another universe.

it is the way the two of them are reflections of each other. ryoji with his hair down is just like minato. they are both stubbornly committed to choosing to be kind, to love life, yet are chained down by the cards the narrative dealt them with. they finish each other’s sentences, knowing each other intimately in a way no one else does.

how is that, a boy who lived for only one month, profoundly changes the course of the narrative? he is simultaneously relevant and irrelevant. blink, and you miss it, the beautiful life that he led.

ryoji is horrified at the revelations of being the appriser. he who so desperately wished to forget that his existence was meant to bring the end to all life, was unable to escape the inevitability of death. in a non-human way, of course. he becomes remorseful. a shadow of his brief time as a human who was enamored by the small beautiful things that life had to offer.

he is swallowed by grief. grief knowing that his very existence will take away not only minato’s life, but everyone else’s. the very thing that ryoji loved- life, fundamentally went against the role he was born for- to be the harbinger of death. and unable to grapple with this sadness he believes that the best thing for minato to do is to kill him, so that SEES can live in bliss not knowing about their inevitable end.

SEES is left rattled, calling into question what the meaning of life is and what they do when faced against the inevitability of death.

and!!! minato chooses!! for ryoji to live!! even in spite of what ryoji is MEANT to embody, minato still stubbornly chooses to defy death itself! and if that’s not cool i don’t know what is!! minato wants everyone to have the chance to live!!

so he climbs. he ascends tartarus, to meet ryoji, again, who is now the nyx avatar. and i just think there’s something so so beautiful about being able to use messiah, minato’s ultimate persona, against nyx avatar.

messiah, being the fusion of orpheus and thanatos is peak ryomina to me. because ryoji and minato have established an unbreakable bond from having been entwined for 10 years, minato still has a piece of death with him, and by proxy!! ryoji is able to defy and rebel against nyx trying to bring the fall! and i think that’s fucking cool shit if you ask me!

even when all of the arcanas have been gone through, it’s still not enough to stop the fall. and yet. minato knows. in the way that ryoji was sealed in minato 10 years ago by aigis... minato becomes the great seal so that everyone can live. it comes full circle.

march rolls around. he fulfills his promise to SEES on graduation day. minato dies from exhaustion. but goddamn does his sacrifice make me weep- he’s had such, such a tiring journey. he’s been through so many things because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. but at the end of it all, he’s reunited with ryoji in death.

and i think this is why ryomina continues to evoke so much emotions for me, to this day. the relationship that they have embodies so much of persona 3′s messages and themes that it makes me feel like a microwave with nothing running in it.

p3′s message is very hopeful, for me. my favorite takeaway from it is that even if death is inevitable, appreciating the life that we were given and choosing to live as best as we can with kindness (even if we can’t feasibly do everything), is just? really nice? and you see this manifest in both ryoji and minato’s personalities and what they do for the other characters.

ryomina just feels so distinct to me, the flavor that their relationship ties back to my favorite takeaways from this game and im just!!  god!! i love you minato arisato! i love you ryoji mochizuki! im so glad that i could meet them! i’m happy that they changed my life! they made me want to appreciate the connections in life even if they were fleeting! they made me!! want to pay attention to the good moments in life and cherish them!

i love ryomina so much!!! i’m so glad that these two could bring so much joy into my life! and i hope that others can have this joy too! 💛💙