#i have a lot of cardboard that was going to be thrown out but i had the idea to make something out of it

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

currently building a little dollhouse out of cardboard

[claypigeonpottery]

What's the process like for slab building mugs? I've only done them on the wheel before and i was wondering how hard it is to get a smooth rotational symmetry when you don't have the wheel helping you

they’re pretty straightforward, but they definitely take practice. and I think an aspect of slab building (and hand building in general) is that it’s not going to be perfect. I had to learn to accept that and to love it for what it is

I use two tools to get my slab-built mugs nice and round:

1. a turntable/banding wheel. spinning it as I’m refining the shape helps keep it round, just like wheel-thrown pottery

and

2. The Cone

The Cone can be any cylinder that’s narrower at the bottom at wider at the top, and the right size to fit in your mug. just press it in and shape the rim to it, don’t leave it in the mug as the clay shrinks

but here’s the whole slab-building process!

under the cut

1. roll out clay.

this time I cut it straight from the bag so it’s air-bubble free, but otherwise it should be wedged first. I use a rolling pin with measured rings on the ends so I can easily roll it out 1/4” thick

2. I used to use a cardboard template and a pin tool for this (you can find the templates online and print them, or you can cut up a disposable cardboard cup to make a template)

but I upgraded to cutters a little while ago and I love them.

remember also to cut out a circle for the bottom of the mug.

3. smooth

4. let sit for a couple hours, or put it in front of a fan for awhile, so it’s not too floppy to work with. it should be flexible, workable, but not floppy. it shouldn’t crack if bent but it should stand up on its own once you’ve got it in a circular shape

5. I usually make a handle right before starting to build the mug, so it’s firm enough to work with by the time I’m done with the cylinder part of the mug. I prefer handle-making tools, rather than pulling them by hand

6. cut the mug edges at a 45 degree angle. you can eyeball it or use a tool. remember to flip the slab before cutting the other side, so they line up lol. I only made that mistake once.

I used to not do this step but my seams are a lot cleaner now.

7. score and slip, then join. once I’ve blended the two sides together a bit with my fingers, I like to use a soft rubber rib to smooth out the seam on the inside and outside, adding extra slip to fill any little gaps. it’ll be ugly at first, just keep refining it!

8. score and slip to attach the bottom piece to the cylinder. I add extra slip around the inside of the mug where the bottom attaches, and once I’ve flipped the mug back over, I smooth the extra slip along the seam on the inside with a brush or sponge, to help fill any gaps and attach everything nicely

9. here I usually use The Cone. the rim is going to warp again as I add my handle, so I’ll use the cone again later. it’s just helpful to have the rim round before adding a handle

10. attach handle. I like to attach them over the seam so as to leave the rest of the mug as smooth as possible for decorating

11. use The Cone again, refine the rim, cover mug with plastic and leave until leather hard

12. trim it, clean it up, etc (here’s one I prepared earlier!)

and here’s your mug!

[jovial-thunder]

More IRL Lego Lancer!

We played the Tomb of Delios one-shot by Katherine Stark. Some NPC comp / sitrep spoilers ahead.

I used the backs of old trivial pursuit boards for grids, egg cartons, poster tubes, and a big Roomba box + insert for terrain.

I coated the cardboard with this flour and glue paste recipe I found on youtube.

I found a bunch of cheap-ish large lego octogons and walls online for the modular buildings, then greebled them with misc urban details I collected from my local bricks & minifigs bulk by-volume bins.

Our PCs were a Swallowtail artillery (callsign Bandit; an SSC plant in the union auxilliaries), Störtebeker striker (callsign Roadkill, silver-nanite kintsugi'd mechromancer), and Black Witch support (callsign Egret, disgraced princess (gotta be one of my favorite genders)).

The elite cataphract ended up playing trapdoor spider for most of the game; hiding in a magical healing forest (thank u support o7) and grappling PCs back into the forest with it.

Its scariest turn was popping out, structuring the Bandit and destroying his siege stabilizers, and lassoing it back into the forest. Egret came to the rescue and finally did the cataphract in with perimeter command plate/impact lance/crit thrown tactical knife overwatch combo.

The Swallowtail never took any voluntary movement after deploying its siege stab round 1, but between rainmaker knockback, the aforementioned trapdoor spider incident, and allied ferrous lashes, and a few rams, it was pingponged around the map pretty significantly.

"Come out Rainmaker, I just want to talk."

The final threat to the objective was when a bastion clambered up onto the pipeline to contest them. The Störtebeker (whose mini was having trouble standing up on the pipeline) pulled an indiana jones and just shot it down.

For the pre-battle narrative section, I made two 4-step clocks out of lego and a minimap as the party visited various districts of the city. Both were totally unnecessary but I think added a lot to the IRL experience.

All in all, it was a lot of fun! Things that worked well/could be improved on:

The aforementioned mini stability. I should add more baseplates to the minis to making moving and standing them up less finicky.

As cool as the egg carton bottoms are, having flat surfaces is just better. Going to stick with the tops going forward.

The grid ground floor worked great. I should trace more grids onto the egg cartons and larger boxes. I also made a few measuring sticks out of dowels and that was super handy.

Witchdice on phones continues to work well for PC character sheets.

I made a handful of status tokens that we could put next to mechs. They were handy for consumable statuses like lock-on, but less so for memorable ones like exposed and hidden.

We needed more little indicators for misc systems like Javelin Rockets and Iceout Drone.

It was fun to be able to follow up "how do you want to do this" with "you may now destroy the mini".

[opttwoodrow]

The Ballad of Bighole

Prelude

The Myth of Magnaformus, known to locals as 'The Ballad of Bighole', is a retelling of the events of the Bighole gangwar of late M41. This gang war, while not more than a footnote in the annals of Necromundan history, became legend among the drudges of the House of Iron, eventually being turned into the eponymous ballad sung by road gangs across the planet as they traveled the ashroads. Here follows its inciting incident:

Vivian Merdena is missing, and gang warfare is kindling throughout Bighole. Nobody knows for sure where she has gone or what has happened to her, but everybody has heard a rumour or two and has an opinion to share

Some say she wasn't happy with a stationary life and has run off with a Roadboss to live life on the roads of Necromunda. Others say that a Delaque assassin put her down in one of the cavernous ore silos that dot the upper levels of Bighole. And furtive whispers are passed that she is making a move against her father, laying low to bait him into an ambush.

But no matter the cause of her disappearance, it has left a power vacuum that gangs of every house are scrambling to fill. From the lowest flooded sump level to the highest enforcer compound, all have something to gain from the coming anarchy. And all the while, a strange signal has been detected emanating from the toxic depths of the pit, could this have something to do with Vivian's disappearance, or could it signal something more esoteric is afoot? Is this the start of a new golden age or the first signs of rust tearing into the settlement of Bighole?

The Ballad of Bighole is a Necromunda 2017 Dominion campaign with narrative elements set in Magnaformus, a settlement carved into the side of an ancient pit mine north of the Primus Cluster, known by the locals as Bighole.

This campaign features 4 players and their gangs:

The Mavens of Magnaformus- Escher

Rad Watch - Van Saar

Corpse Wives - Corpse Grinder Cult

An as yet unnamed Delaque gang (how fitting)

This campaign is a long time in the making and really was a call to action for a different and much grander project i have used as daydream fodder for many years now. But with my regular play partner soon to be emigrating to Australia, it seemed like it was now or never for a narrarive campaign of some kind, and Necromunda was there to scratch the itch.

To show the kind of stuff i have been accumulating for the evenual dream campaign, here are some photos of my accumulated '40k adjacent roleplaying minis' featuring lots of different factions, civilians and hangers on, and a few wee beasties for good measure. There is a whole extra pile of shame dedicated to this project that will remain unphotographed.

So to prepare for the camapign, as its host and architect, i needed terrain. I already have plenty of 40k style terrain, but its a bit too 'ruined cathedral' for my needs. Plus to fill a necromunda board I would need much much more. Perhaps make my own out of cardboard and other crafty type mateials? Maybe, but i needed this quick as my emigree friend and I are known for our wandering eyes when it comes to big projects and i would have to learn from scratch if i was to do thia. So how was I to do this quickly, but without breaking the bank?

My plan was simple: cheap on the bulk, spend on the details. i.e TTCOMBAT MDF terrain for most of what I needed, and then a few GW kits thrown in to give it that truly 41st millenium feel. This would allow me to have a variety of terrain that could be used in different ways and would all be of a similar scale. So I got to work. I could go through all the details, but here is a photo montage of putting together and painting the core of the terrain.

With the gangs gathered and enough terrain to play a game, we gathered arms and had a day of gaming! I shall go into detail about the test game and the 2 propper battles we played in a different post as I have run out of photos allowed in the app, but the Ballad of Bighole has officially begun!

[darkmagyk]

performer au / strandeed due to inclement weather

percabeth!

Annabeth had gotten the key from Thalia. Thalia had gotten it from Luke. Percy wasn’t sure where Luke got it from. He’s a charming bastard when he wants to be, so he might just have talked one of the receptionists into giving it to him.

Percy appreciated that he’d passed the exterior theater door key down through the presidents of the Thespian Society. It was really convenient when they needed to build a set on a Saturday, none of the drama teachers wanted to come and let them in. Or if you wanted to ditch a football game for something more private with your girlfriend.

But Percy was less comfortable about breaking in in the middle of the night, in the middle of the summer, to steal (borrow, Annabeth insisted) items from the costume and prop closet for the drama camp they were helping run. It felt more illicit. And more like he was going to get hit with a trespass charge. And his mom would be so annoyed about that.

But it wasn’t like he was going to say no when Annabeth asked him to come. That wasn’t how things worked between them. They had each other’s backs. They were partners in crime. Ride or die.

So he followed her around the back of the school, and parked his car in the alleyway, before she opened the door, and they slipped inside together. And passed the green rooms and dressing room into the prop and costume closet.

Freshman year, Percy and Annabeth had gotten detention, and had ended up being assigned to the drama department, and told to clean out and organize the closet. It was a long length of detention. After 3 weeks they had done it. Costumes arranged by time period and pieces and size. Props labeled. Broken bits and odds and ins thrown out.

That had 2 and a half years ago. Their system had not survived.

But they had also spent so much time back here that they had a pretty good idea where everything was.

Percy went to the corner he knew held the prop swords. After picking a few up, he just grabbed and armful. Then he turned to the shields. They were cool productions. Made by Annabeth and Rachel out of paper mâché, cardboard, and really amazing arts and crafts skills made for a fun take on Romeo and Juliet last year.

Annabeth was flicking through the costume racks. It was three levels high, and Annabeth had managed to climb up on the second rack so she could reach the third one.

He couldn’t help but admire her.

But he always admired her.

He spotted her from the bottom, mostly just trying to catch the costumes she was throwing down.

It took a while.

But eventually they had everything they could need. And if they were missing something, well, Annabeth still had the key.

But when they got out of the closet, they could hear outside again. And it wasn’t great.

The rain seemed to be pounding on the roof. And the thunder was louder still.

He glanced down at their supplies, and then looked up at the noise.

“A lot of this is paper, or roughly dyed.” He said.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed.

“I don’t think that’s great in this rain.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said.

“So what do you want to do?”

She dropped her pile of clothes on the ground. And then flopped on one of the couches. Smiling up at him. They had spent a lot of time horizontally on that couch. “I don’t know,” She said, “what will we do here?”

[isay]

Year in review-y type stuff

So every year I kind of end up, like many of you, writing down something that sums up some of what made an impression on me over the last year. This year has been a year of a lot of change for me, and it’s been positive in so many ways. 

I started the year with a new job, one that I’d been really keen on, and it hasn’t disappointed. While I took a substantial pay cut, I gained a scenic commute that takes under half an hour. I work for an organisation that is trying to be forward thinking for the long term good, and I work with a great bunch of people who are all on the same page, made me feel welcome from the get go and are a lot of fun to work with.

After finishing up 2023 being in a situation where losing a job meant we had to be very careful financially, 2024 has allowed a lot of catching up which has made a world of difference with the amount of stress I’ve been under. Ironically the organisation I had been working for went to the wall in some quite contentious circumstances at the end of 2023, so although I couldn’t see it at the time I think I actually got to dodge a bit of a bullet.

Kim and I had our first holiday together in over five years, back once again to Bali for a week of being pampered and not having to deal with any housework. Of course we came back and ended up moving house a couple of weeks late which meant we returned from Bali with our suitcases and pretty much lived out of suitcases for the next couple of weeks while we packed and moved. To the country.

Kim’s wanted to be in a country setting ever since arriving here in Australia but until this year the stars (my old job, childcare etc) hadn’t aligned. This year with the girl child now being (legally) an adult, I’ve at last thrown off the shackles of supporting my ex to follow her dreams, and we’ve finally been able to follow some of ours.

TBH we weren’t looking too seriously and were prepared to take our time with finding the right place for this move, but after looking at one property up on a hill with a spectacular view but a perilous drive and needing a lot of care, we ended up coming to look at the place we’ve moved to. Actually we came to see it twice. The very first time it was a cold rainy day and the house was empty and we could see every minor scrape and ding and nail hole, and we left thinking that while it ticked so many boxes, might we find something better.

We decided to come back the following day, again it was cold and rainy, and we didn’t have the keys so just basically got to check the outside, the veranda and the gardens again. And then as we stood outside looking into the garden as the rain gently fell, a kangaroo hopped down the road and jumped the fence into the paddock and off into the trees. Obviously a sign so we went straight home and filled out the paperwork.

We’ve only been here a couple of months but it feels a lot longer. It took maybe three weeks to get everything in place, boxes unpacked, multiple deliveries taken care of, multiple trips to dispose of cardboard and other moving detritus. Kim’s done an amazing job with making the cottage into a welcoming home, the doggos are settled and love it here, despite regularly freaking out whenever they spy rabbits in the garden or cockatoos on the veranda. And shockingly I have discovered that despite gardening being something that I have always previously despised with a passion, I’m now actually relishing getting out there mowing the lawn and pulling weeds and pruning the trees that have been neglected for too long.

The thing about living in a place like this is that you feel kind of like a custodian or caretaker of it. We’ll never get to own a property like this (or probably any other tbh) but we get to live here and we want to take care of the place, it feels like we take care of it and it takes care of us, because I think both Kim and I have benefitted so much from being here, surrounded by nature. I haven’t seen Kim as relaxed as this in a home environment ever, and it really gladdens the heart to see her so present.

And for me, while previously I’ve usually set a target for the year ahead, this coming year I am going to try and largely do away with goals, instead choosing to try and focus on being more present in the everyday, and enjoying the time that we have in this house and together. I don’t want life to pass us by as we scramble from one target to the next, I want to embrace the here and now and appreciate each moment.

So yeah I know there’s been a lot of shit and a lot of disappointment on the events in the world this year, but on a personal note maybe Ferris was right life does move pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

[z3r0b1tch35]

Hi I have come here to complain as well, because I recently had a friend ask me who my favorite character in Demon Slayer was. And I said Tengen and was about to say why, when they looked at me and said ‘you mean the perv, who’s whole thing is just being flashy.’ Or something along those lines.

 And I forget that people don’t spend the time to hyper analyze characters, or even try and see anything that goes even slightly beneath the surface of black and white text. If it’s not spelled out for people, they see it as a flaw or bad writing.

Like I could write a whole essay on how Tengen looked after the three during the entertainment district, how he acted like a father to the three boys. How much he looks up to Kagaya and the role the master has played in his life. How much he adores his wives much more than any basic surface level ‘he’s a pervert’ stereotype. Don’t get me started on Zenitsu or Rengoku either (even Tanjiro in some aspects).

It’s not just even in Demon slayer. I won’t go into everything as I know you aren’t a part of the fandom but it drives me crazy how people will look surface level at a character and say that they have no depth to them. Recently I  was told that “How can you actually like xxx he’s literally nothing more than a cardboard cut out?” Which couldn’t be farther from the truth. And it’s like, people don’t actually stop and study what they are reading. Selectively mute characters? Characters with disabilities, who don’t fit into the world around them for a reason. ‘Oh well they just have zero personality.’ ‘They’re just a reader insert-‘ No, no they’re not!

Actually take the time and notice like you said the small characteristics that make up a character. They still end up with relationships, friends and family. Gosh don't get me started on how people can never tell the difference between paternal/familiar relationships and romantic ones (though that may be more of a me thing tbh)

Sorry I am just ranting now, this has been bothering me for days

Bro literally!

Something I’ve noticed in KNY is that if a characters main flaw is more prevalent they get shamed for it but if they have the same/similar flaw but it’s not a the center of attention they get praised!

I could also go into an entire thing about how boy and girl parallels for bad traits; the boys get shamed while the girls are seen as powerful for it. Honestly I might because it irritates me lol.

Tengen, Zenitsu, Douma, and Genya at the top of my head show different aspects of sexuality (not sure if that’s the word I want to use, sorry if it doesn’t make sense) but because they do it in a way that’s not conventional to a neurotypical person that hasn’t undergone trauma; they are made to be gross when they do something even slightly flirty.

So like I totally get what you mean by getting annoyed at your friend for saying that about Tengen! Rightfully so, I would be too.

These people who just shit on characters whose flaws are easier to see than others because they either

1: haven’t read the manga/databooks/novels and are just blindly following what everyone else says about them

Or

2: they haven’t got an ounce of reading comprehension to look past a well written character

Amazing point about disabilities! KNY is very much autistic coded, like I could give full explanations about every (main) character and how they are autistic with good backing behind it too.

Which this is a huge reason why many people call Zenitsu a pervert/creep! Because they just see him cling onto a girl and totally ignore the fact that he doesn’t understand social boundaries/cues, and since they can’t see this they label him anything gross!

And gosh the people screaming zero personality are the worst. It was really bad with Giyuu when it was only first season animated. Obanai too (which to be fair he is poorly written and thrown to the side, so a lot of him comes off to be very bland) or Kanao is another good example! They get compared to wet rags and I just like scratch my head in confusion.

Characteristics are the main selling point of KNY too! Like these small details hidden in their breathing styles, their mannerisms, their designs, and even the way they interact with others! It all corresponds to other aspects of their character (which is actually the main reason I don’t like a lot of redesigns lol!)

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED! I actually briefly mentioned this but imma talk about a thing that happened on tiktok like yesterday lol

So I was explaining how ObaTen see each other as brothers and all the subtext behind that (if someone wants me to explain that I will absolutely make a post about it)

And someone comes up and mentions Inosuke, Tanjiro, and Zenitsu saying they are like brothers (my display has InoTanZen in it) so I explain how characters actually see each other as family is different from martial arts brotherhood.

Would you like to know what they responded with? “That means the Uzui’s are all family because they fight alongside each other”

My jaw hit the floor. And then I told them, kinda rudely but I don’t care honestly, that martial arts brotherhood isn’t actually seeing each other as family. It’s just gaining a stronger bond from fighting together for long enough. And that the Hashira normally fight solo so a lot of them, aside from Obanai and Sanemi, have this bond. Meaning that no, you cannot use the same example because it doesn’t match.

Also the core value of KNY is family, I don’t understand why it’s so hard to grasp that a lot of characters see each other as family lmao

That ain’t a you thing, I made a whole tiktok about it and people STILL argue with me. It’s wild. Something I’ve noticed too is it’s always the hardcore shippers that can’t understand the differences because they aren’t used to media where there’s a lot of family bonds/ties. Like the correlation for the two is spot on

No don’t apologize! I’ve needed someone to rant to! I’m sure my friends are absolutely sick of hearing it lol!

Honestly I might make an entire post explaining how the female characters are praised for their flaws while the male characters are shamed. It does have some touchy subject tho… hm

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 22 - Bleeding Through Bandages

title: misfortune placed these worlds in us

fandom: limited life smp

welcome back to my bad boys au!! i never expected to write more of it lol now i need to name it

cw: blood and injury, implied/referenced abuse

~

A string of whispered curses is all that escapes Grian’s lips, as he clicks on the dim overhead light.

He isn’t usually the one who gets hurt on missions—usually, it’s Jimmy. Jimmy may be the best shot in all the gang, but he’s clumsier than anyone Grian’s ever known. It’s honestly fitting that the first time they met, Jimmy was bleeding to death from a bullet to the lung.

  But now Grian’s been hit, and if he doesn’t stop it from bleeding, the others will insist on calling the mission here and heading back to the manor, which cannot happen. He already had to let himself get captured—a bullet in the thigh isn’t going to stop him.

Before he does anything—thrown into this locked closet as he was—he spits out his ear piece from where he’d been hiding it in the back of his mouth. Hopefully it still functions.

Then he shimmies his trousers off and sets to taking care of the wound.

The closet they’d put him in is by no means empty—it’s a janitor’s closet, well-stocked with cleaning supplies and essentials, and Grian grabs a roll of toilet paper off the shelf and wraps it around the bullet wound.

The bullet hadn’t gone in far, buried maybe an inch deep into his flesh. If he doesn’t try to pull it out, he should be good to go in an emergency. He can clean it and remove the bullet later—for now, he just needs to staunch the bleeding.

Even wrapping it around five times doesn’t stop the blood that blooms through the paper, so he tosses the roll to the side and roots around on a shelf, digging through the cardboard box there for any sort of rag. There’s nothing there, but the box beside it has a collection of dirty rags, some kind of polish smeared on them.

Is it worse to put this on the wound, or let it bleed freely?

Screw it, it’s got toilet paper on it. Grian puts the rag atop the toilet paper, ties it around his leg. It’s almost tight enough to be a tourniquet, with how short the rag is, which maybe should help? Grian doesn’t know enough about wounds.

He doesn’t get hurt a lot, but when he does, it rarely affects him. Mumbo has always bemoaned his high pain tolerance, ever since they were in high school together and Grian could walk away from a fight without even noticing the bruises and cuts all over him.

That was how he’d gotten a place in the Bad Boys, actually. Sixteen years old, at a corrupt high school and living with an abusive roommate, Grian had fallen into gang fights too young and had eventually gotten picked up by one.

Too many kids got lost to violence like that. Grian was just one example, amid countless others. As soon as he had enough rapport in the Bad Boys, he’d helped to establish the standard that they didn’t work with anyone under eighteen. In the past five years, Jimmy has been the only exception.

Jimmy’s eighteen, now, and he’s chosen to stick with the Bad Boys in light of his recent adulthood, likely to get closer to getting his own apartment.

Everyone has a motivation for joining up—Grian’s had been protection. He’d made far too many enemies in high school, and he’s certain that his old roommate would have no qualms about killing him if he wasn’t associated with one of the most powerful gangs in the area. 

Jimmy’s reason is his sister.

The only time he talked about her was when they first met him. Grian and Joel were fleeing a successful mission, only to find Jimmy on the ground, struggling to breathe around the bullet hole in his chest. He’d mentioned his sister, how much she meant to him, how he needed to get her safe.

As far as Grian knows, he hasn’t managed it yet. Jimmy always looks like he’s carrying a bonfire in his chest, his shoulders weighed down by the logs he keeps feeding it. He’s angry and tired and frustrated, but he never talks about why he feels that way. He just spends hours shooting at practice targets and sparring and moping around the manor, a plastic flosser always jutting out from his mouth. He leaves on weekends, presumably to go home, and always comes back in a worse mood than before.

The only thing that softens the sharp edges of his personality is feeling useful—like being on a mission. That had quickly propelled him into the strike side of the gang, despite his youth. Grian and Joel, already a team, had decided to show him the ropes, and it had turned their team of two into three as they became the only people who would tolerate Jimmy.

He isn’t a bad kid. He isn’t a bad kid at all, he just doesn’t know how to keep a lid on his emotions. He probably didn’t get a lot of attention growing up, poor kid.

Grian shakes himself from his thoughts, checks his watch. Almost midnight. Joel and Jimmy should be doing the final sweep now—they’ll be able to let him out of this closet, then they can pick up any remaining valuables and head out.

It isn’t often the three of them get assigned to a stealth mission. Grian’s not bad at them, but Jimmy’s terrible at sneaking and lying, and Joel’s more suited for sniping, so they usually handle intimidation or company deals. Grian had been relieved for the change of pace—until he was spotted. Now he just has to sit in this closet, waiting for either his team to track him down or the enemy to move him somewhere more secure.

Hopefully his team arrives first.

Grian rubs his earpiece off on his shirt, tucks it into his ear. He’s only had to stick it in his mouth once before, and it had luckily still functioned that time. He can only hope he’s had the same luck.

“Hello?” he whispers, tapping twice on it to activate the mic. “Red to Green and Yellow. Do you copy?”

“We copy,” Joel crackles back immediately. “Thought you were gonna stay silent.”

“Yeah, well. Got myself into a bit of a sticky situation. Check any closets down the fourth hall, yeah?”

“Why, did you leave something?”

“Yeah. Me.”

Jimmy unmutes just to laugh at him.

“I’m flipping you off so hard right now,” Grian says, not actually flipping anyone off. He pulls his trousers back up over his bandaged leg, buttons them. “Yeah, they grabbed me and locked me in here. They thought I was leftover from the recon mission, though, and not the start of a new patrol.”

“So the cover isn’t blown?” Joel asks.

“Nope. They’re even less on their guard, actually.”

“Cool. I’m actually heading down that hall right now. Yellow’s on the second floor, still.”

“Almost done, here,” Jimmy announces. “I’ll be back down soon.”

Grian stuffs the roll of toilet paper into his pocket and stands up, shaking out his feet. It definitely hurts to put weight on his injured leg, but he can walk it off.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as he’s reaching up for the pull switch on the lightbulb. Joel grins at him, eyes sparkling with mirth behind his lowered sunglasses.

“Little bird locked in a cage?” he asks innocently. Grian shoves him, follows him out. He grabs Joel’s gun from the holster and clips it into his own (where his gun was confiscated from him upon being shoved into that closet).

“Hey!” “Use your spare.”

Jimmy joins them in the stairwell at the end of the hallway, and together they go down the flight of stairs. The rub of his jeans against his leg chafes his injury, but Grian just grits his teeth and rolls with it. They’re almost done, anyway. Just a quick check of the ground floor, then off to the van.

Most of the lights in the building are off, but some reason, there’s one flickering light at the bottom of the stairwell. Grian glares at it, then moves forward to take point—but Joel stops him, grabbing his sleeve and turning him around.

“What’s this?” Joel gestures to his leg.

“It’s nothing,” Grian says easily, shifting to try and hide his leg. Did it bleed through his jeans already? Maybe it’s worse than he thought. . . .

“You’re bleeding, you idiot, did you get hurt?”

“It’s barely a scratch. Come on, we’re—”

Too late. Joel unbuttons Grian’s jeans (Jimmy wolf-whistles obnoxiously), tugs them down just enough to see the dirty rag—now soaked with blood.

“Did you get stabbed?” Joel asks, dumbfounded. “Why are you walking on it?”

“It’s fine,” Grian says. “We can finish the mission, don’t worry about it—”

“You need to get back to the manor, there probably isn’t anything down here—”

Grian casts his eyes around, looking for any sort of way to distract Joel—

Jimmy’s looking on, chewing on one of those constant flossers, and seemingly without his notice, there’s blood trickling down his arm. Perfect.

“Timmy’s bleeding, too,” Grian says, nodding toward him, and Joel immediately drops Grian’s leg to turn toward Jimmy. Grian uses that opportunity to pull his trousers back up.

“What? You too? Am I surrounded by self-sacrificing morons—?”

“What?” Jimmy glances down at his arm. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, then he hides it behind his back. “No. No, I’m not.”

Joel glares at him. “Mate, I just saw it. You’re bleeding.”

“I—” Jimmy glances around, something almost panicked seeping into his expression. “I—yeah, but it isn’t from this. It’s just—it’s just a little cut, don’t worry about it.”

Joel isn’t having any of that. He tugs Jimmy’s jean jacket off, rolls up his shirt sleeve.

Just above Jimmy’s elbow is a white bandage, wrapped around the bicep. Even in the flickering light, it’s clearly soaked through with blood, some of it seeping out around and dripping down his arm.

“What? When did this happen?” Joel asks, confused. Grian wants to know the same thing—Jimmy didn’t report running into any trouble. Was he just carrying bandages on him?

“It’s from yesterday, I’m fine,” Jimmy says. He looks like he wants to talk about it as much as he wants to eat a lemon. He looks like a tiger trying to sleep that keeps getting poked. He looks like he wants to bite Joel’s head off.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna need more information than that.”

“I fell, okay?” says Jimmy. He rolls his shirt sleeve back down, slapping Joel’s hands away. “I tripped, tried to catch myself on a wall, and caught my arm on a door hinge. It isn’t deep. Let’s keep going.”

It worked as a distraction, apparently, because Joel just shakes his head and mutters something about needing to be careful, before leading the way into the basement. But, for all it got him, Grian just feels like something’s squirming in the depths of his stomach.

Jimmy’s lying.

He won’t meet Grian’s eyes, he would barely even look at Joel. His temper, usually subdued on a mission, had flared briefly, and his hands are still clenched into fists.

He’s lying.

He didn’t fall onto a door hinge.

He probably got into a fight.

You’re supposed to report if you get into any fights with rival gangs, but most people don’t do that. Sometimes it’s embarrassment, sometimes it’s out of fear of punishment, sometimes it’s because they don’t want to be stopped from retaliating.

With Jimmy, it’s probably the latter.

So when they get back to the van, and Joel’s driving them to the manor, Grian speaks up.

“Tim, who’d you get in a fight with?”

Grian sees him stiffen in the front seat. Usually, Grian sits there, but Joel had banished him to the back in order to put his leg up.

“I—I didn’t.”

He’s definitely lying.

“Sure, and I totally didn’t get shot in the leg.”

“Wait, you got shot?” Joel demands. “I thought—geez, Grian, you should have told me, I thought it was just a stab wound or something—”

“Timmy—”

“I didn’t get in a fight,” Jimmy says hotly, turning to look out the window. “I swore I wouldn’t, remember?”

“Yeah, well, that injury wasn’t caused by a door hinge,” Grian scoffs. “People don’t fall onto door hinges, what kind of excuse is that?”

“You weren’t there! And I said—I tripped, and—”

“Sure. You just tripped badly enough that—”

“Grian?” Joel interrupts, a note of warning in his voice. “Shut up.”

The surprise of the command is enough to cause Grian to fall silent. Jimmy keeps looking out the window, uncharacteristically quiet.

No one speaks for the rest of the ride. Grian gets settled into medical and Jimmy disappears, likely for his usual bed (or, perhaps, for the gym, where he can beat on the punching bag until he’s too exhausted to be angry).

“What was that about?” Grian asks, once he and Joel are alone (and he’s hooked up to some IV fluids, his leg properly stitched up).

Joel rubs a hand across his face. “Jimmy’s definitely lying,” he says. “But . . . I don’t think he fought anyone, either. Jimmy would tell us if he got in a fight, wouldn’t he?”

“I mean, maybe. You never know with Tim.”

“Look, Grian—” Joel sits down next to him. There’s something oddly solemn in his face, something that gives Grian pause. “I—I had a friend in high school,” Joel starts. Grian restrains the snarky comment that rises to his lips.

“His name was Oli. Every time I saw him, he had a new bruise. And every time, he made up some excuse—that he walked into a door, or tripped down his front steps, or . . . or tripped, and fell onto a door hinge. Things like that, you know? It was like that every day. Until CPS got called on his family, and I never saw him again.”

The letters CPS sink deep into Grian’s mind. He gapes. Joel shifts uncomfortably.

“He still lives at home, doesn’t he?” Joel says. “He’s just a kid. And whenever he ever mentions his sister, it’s about getting an apartment so he can get her safe. I just—”

“You—you think his parents . . . what, hit him?” Grian asks, cringing.

An awkward sadness weighs down Joel’s shoulders as he shrugs. “I think . . . I think it’s possible. Really, really possible.”

That isn’t rare. In this profession, it’s not a surprise to hear of child abuse.

But . . . Jimmy?

How could anyone hurt Jimmy?

It . . . it adds up, if he thinks about it. It adds up, because isn’t Jimmy always coming in after the weekend with new bruises? Isn’t he always grumbling about clumsiness and accidents? Hasn’t Grian confronted him several times about getting into fights, and each time Jimmy had just argued with him until they both stormed out of the room?

Grian feels sick just to think of it. If Jimmy’s not safe at home, how bad had it been to incite him to seek out gang protection?

“If you’re right—and I’m not saying you are—we should help him with that apartment,” Grian says. Joel nods his agreement.

“Yeah. And soon.”

[dont-f-with-moogles]

hello Terra ♡

new follower here (on Val's recommendation btw) discovering your works and enjoying them a lot so far!

can I request prompt 26 secret Santa gift exchange for the Survey Corps Vets? there's no way this would go smoothly with such a bunch of weirdos, right? you can include ships (I love them all) to pep up your story if you feel like it

thank you for taking prompts and happy holidays (*^‿^*)

Festive Fics 26: Secret Santa Gift Exchange

How Mike Stole Christmas (Canon Universe) Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe, Erwin Smith, Mike Zacharius, Nanaba, Moblit Berner 602 words 

Mike seized the final scrap of paper lying inside a squat, cardboard box. Erwin placed the empty vessel on his desk before addressing the small group before him in the same formal tones that he used during every expedition briefing.

“And so concludes the drawing of names for this year’s Secret Santa. Now, just a few reminders with regards to the rules. 5000 yen spending limit. No items which include hazardous, corrosive or highly flammable matter. No conspiring to exchange names with one another.” At this he gave a pointed stare in Hange’s direction.

There came a derisive snort from the back of the group. Heads turned towards Mike Zacharius who glanced up triumphantly.

“Hey, Hange. Seeing as you’ve got me, don’t bother buying me a gift. Just swap outpost duty with me next weekend?”

Hange blinked; their eyes magnified alarmingly behind dark, square frames. “Huh? Surely your nose doesn’t possess that level of power, Mike… unless…”

“Well…” Mike strode with his hands clasped behind him and head thrown back so that his celebrated appendage was held proudly in the air. “...not only do I know that you do indeed have me Hange, but I’ve also figured out who everyone else has too…”

Stopping abruptly, Mike gave a sudden nod of his head.

“Levi didn’t put in a name or take one out. He doesn’t want to participate.” 

Levi scowled at him. 

“Never do. How’d you figure that much out?”

“I got a whiff of ink and paper from everyone here… apart from you.” Mike’s nostrils flared. “Standing next to you, all I smell is deception.” 

“Meanwhile, Hange’s expression was just like the first time they saw Levi using ODM gear.” Mike paused to inhale deeply. “The air is thick with awe and… pheromones.”

Beneath their misted frames, Hange’s face glowed pink. “Why thank you.” 

“...but that’s just because you slipped Levi’s name in the box when he wasn’t looking and you’re excited to see who picked it.” 

Levi closed his eyes in frustration. Mike continued his course, hesitating to sniff the air beside Moblit’s ear. Hange’s subordinate gave a visible shudder.

“Increased perspiration, panic and dread. You could cut the air with it,” Mike concluded. “Moblit pulled Levi’s name. Erwin drew Moblit…” 

The Survey Corps Commander regarded Mike coolly. “I thought I kept a remarkably impassive expression and maintained my body temperature throughout the whole ordeal.”

“But you can’t fool me.” Mike tipped his finger from his forehead towards Erwin. “I saw you mouthing ‘Moblit Brenner…?’ with obvious confusion.”

Moblit sighed. “It’s Berner. Sir, I’ve served alongside you for the past five-”

“And, lastly, I caught Nanaba’s clean, refreshing aroma of relief,” Mike cut across him. “She eyed up Hange’s frog crocs immediately after she picked their name. Nanaba’s been dying for an excuse to buy them a new pair. Those old things are falling apart so badly, they’re more hole than shoe by this point.”

“B-but they’re comfy!”

“And I drew Nanaba.” Mike waved his own slip of paper. “That’s why I need next weekend off. I’ve booked a little place outside the district…” He offered her a wink.

“So Mike single-handedly sank the whole thing?” Levi’s brows were contracted in disbelief.

“So, I didn’t get picked at all?” Erwin gasped faintly. “Hange, how could you just throw my slip out…?”

“Let’s punish him.” A glint of light flashed dangerously where it caught on Hange’s glasses. “Shall we draw the names again and leave Mike out this time?” 

“Wait, wait - ” Mike’s voice caught in his throat. “You can’t blame me! Blame my nose - it’s both a gift and a curse!”

[justimajin]

Winter Splashes

Genre: Pure Fluff (with like a drop of angst)

↳ Writer Reader x Painter Taehyung AU

Words: 14k

Summary: Being a writer is a difficult job - you have daunting deadlines to meet, new characters to develop and constantly seek out bundles of inspiration. However, this profession also demands that you go with the flow, a simple phrase that morphs into a much bigger business issue when your book sales are on the verge of disappearing. It doesn't help that you're thrown a major curve-ball, one that leaves you asking a very ominous question:

✒ How are you supposed to write about romance?

The large brown table has a mountain of colours spewed on it, ranging from hard-covered to soft-covered, light laughs to deep wails, a short stack of words with sharp statements to a long flow of words that could have imaginations whisked away. The bound pages each have different illustrations depicted, their sheer volume only seeming to be endless when another array of them starts to form right below the table. Among all this, two words are engraved with a swirl into each of them and it’s a name that never fails to raise a hearty smile. 

“Y/N L/N.” 

The man on the other end repeats in the midst of your thoughts, your eyes trailing along with every book he takes out of the cardboard box. His brows are furrowed whenever he leans down, brown locks falling down onto his eyes and flush lips stretched out in wonder. He glances over at you with wide eyes from where you’re seated in the corner, the forecasted dreamy look you hold immediately vanishing into bewilderment. “There’s seriously a lot of them now.”

With a smile, you nod as he places the last batch underneath the table and turns to face you, “All of them did well in the market too.” He picks up a black book with dark purple and red swirls lining the cover, clouds of smoke in the background of a woman who holds a horrific expression, “Even after you created this,” Another book meets his hands, this time with hues of pink, blue and yellow splashed on the surface, a multitude of flowers scattered on the surface, “And then this.”

A chuckle escapes you, springing up from your seat with a cherry grin. 

“Well, you know what they say!” You point a cheesy finger at him, placing a powerful hand on your hip like you were some kind of superhero, “The biggest risks will always lead to the best results.” 

“Or the worst results.” He pursues his lips, “But you have managed to tackle a lot of genres in your writing, I’ll say that much.” 

You stroll closer, eyes dramatically wide and mouth agape, “Was that a….compliment?” 

He whips around, appearing offended. “Hey! I’ve given you plenty of compliments before.” 

“You said my last book was ridiculous and that I wasn’t allowed to turn the main character into a fish.” 

“Because that was ridiculous! Why would you even write something like that?!” 

“It’s unique! You know, the good ol’ being interesting enough to read more?” You smirk, leaning towards him with suspicious eyes, “Are you sure you’re an actual editor, Jin?” 

Seokjin rolls his eyes, placing the book in his hands down with a sigh, “I’m just saying that maybe you could try writing something simple this time around. Something without all the plot twists and weird revelations.” 

You narrow your eyes, not yet ready to budge until he glares at you in exasperation, “Hm, Fair enough. So what’s hot on the market?” 

You eagerly eye him, aware of his tendency to keep tabs on what the current status of the highest selling books were. 

“There’s been a demand for something else recently.” His voice grows wary and you raise an eyebrow, following after him as he brings over a sealed box you’ve haven’t seen before. He slices through the tape and begins taking out the paper packaging, revealing a new set of books that don’t carry your signature. 

“What is this?” You probe, picking one up that has an intricate image of a boy and a girl with glittering golden and silver eyes. “A werewolf story?” 

Jin hums, “There’s other ones too.” 

The books go flying from the box as you toss them out, taking one quick glance before allowing it to meet the pile you’re forming on the table. There’s covers depicting snow with a vampire, an image of a stethoscope, another of a basketball court, and heck, even one with the premise of two people switching bodies. You stare at Jin perplexed, not grasping onto how these random titles were going to be helpful to you. 

He leans back, resting himself on the perch of the table. He smiles like he knows something you don’t ‒ a gesture that has you nearly pestering him for an answer until he finally speaks. 

“How do you feel about romance?”

“The genre?” He nods, “I don’t know, I guess it’s nice? It’s cute and all, and that-” 

He continues to smile and there’s something about it that’s unintentionally connected to the dots for you. 

You’ve made up your mind already, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s romance!” You raise up your hands in exasperation, but Jin just stares at you, not understanding the big deal, “You know, people gushing and giggling over each other for an entire book. Who wants to read something like that??” 

“This is coming from someone that wrote about a guy turning into a fish.”

“It was unique!” You chime in again, but Jin simply sighs and slides over the books you had previously yanked out. 

“It’s not what the market wants though, Y/N. All of these books went on to become popular just for being in the genre.” He attempts to reason, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I still think you should give it a shot.” 

Your lips set into a firm line, gaze drifting over to the atrocious covers that Jin’s lined up on the table. 

You suppose it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you’ve been through writing spurts, endlessly crafting out fantasy words in efforts of making it through the deadlines you’re faced with. You’ve faced the mixture of stress and adrenaline, desperately pushing yourself to keep going even if your tank of fuel is failing on you. You’ve spent the long hours of digging your nose into hours of research, familiarising yourself with something out of your comfort zone just for the sake of making your writing better. 

But...romance? 

A genre you’ve skimmed over in hopes of creating something else, a genre that you’ve barely given a second glance because…...well… 

You research things. You try to improve things. And the best way to improve, is totry…...

Even though you have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. 

“I don’t know…” You quietly mumble, fiddling with the bottom of your sweater. “What if it sucks?” 

“You’ll never know unless you try.” Jin offers, but it doesn’t take away the unsettling feeling in your stomach from just thinking about it. He simply stares as you grow silent, letting out a sigh. 

Reaching over to grab a familiar coat, he tosses it over your head. You immediately react, flabbergasted by the sudden flying article of clothing. 

“What was that for?!” 

“Come on.” He slides his arms through a brown one with a knowing smile, “You work based on inspiration,” He glances around the dusty office, nearly packed with opened cardboard boxes and books, “and I don’t think you’ll get much from here.” 

You grin, slipping on the rough material instantly. 

***

The streets are bustling, packed with crowds of people huddled together. They’re surrounded by cream coloured skyscrapers from a far distance, rows of bare oak trees lining the roads. The scent of fresh winter lingers in the air, newly arrived after the scattering of orange and red leaves on the ground. 

You fist your hands up, a cheer erupting from your throat. A hand suddenly pushes through, covering your mouth. 

“Why are you screaming?” Jin asks in exasperation, staring at you in disbelief when you still continue despite his attempts at halting you. 

You pry his hand off, “I haven’t been outside in so long!!” You instantly run off, bumping into some civilians with no care and then giving them a cheeky wink when they glare at you. Jin rushes forward, grabbing onto you again. 

He sighs, stuffing his icy hands into his coat pockets, “Y/N, you’re supposed to be a writer, not a hermit.” 

“You can’t have both, Jin.” You remind him, “Plus I’ve spent hours working on my deadlines so I’m in need for some fu-Ooh! Look!” 

He whirls around to see you dashing over a pile of leaves in the corner, diving headfirst into them before he can stop you. Giggles escape you as Jin can’t help but smile a bit at the display too. However, that’s when he remembers why he even offered to bring you out inside, leaning over to grasp onto your arm. 

“Alright, come on Miss. Tree Lover.” He helps you up, quirking an eyebrow at the leaves currently trapped and poking out of your hair. You instantly brush them out, following him around. 

“Well?” He says with hopeful eyes as you take in the busy area. 

“Well what?” 

“Really?” He ponders, leaning closer, “No crazy amounts of inspiration yet?” 

“That’s not how it works!” You chide, “It takes more than that, you know? I gotta have a type of feeling.” 

“A type of feeling?” 

You roll your eyes at his obvious sarcasm, “Yeah, like I see something and the urge to write just‒” 

Your eyes spark up at a particular store and before you know it, you’re yanking Jin to come along with you. 

“What is it??” 

“Look!” You point over to the shop burgeoning with hard bound books. Planting your hands against the window, the glass fogs with the warmth you radiate as you peer inside, seeing countless of titles you recognize. 

“Aren’t those…?” Jin whispers from behind you, a huge dreamy smile crossing your lips. 

“Yeah.” You glance at the familiar works in front of you, eyes carefully watching people that walk across the selves. A particular group huddled in the corner catches your attention right away, one of them flicking through pages you’ve probably dispensed part of your soul into. 

She pauses at one page, eyes starting to focus in and appearing intrigued. Her lips have thinned out, lost in thought even with the group near her talking amongst themselves. 

You know that look. 

The excitement in your eyes instantly shifts into tenderness, simply content with watching someone hold curiosity in them from your words. 

But the perfect mirage cracks. 

“Hey guys, check this one out!” 

The girl immediately spins around, shuffling over to view the alluring title her friend has pulled out. However, in the midst of this, the familiar hard bound pages are instantly discarded, plopped back onto the shelf without another single glance. 

Your smile falls, eyes tingeing with dismay. You can only watch from afar as she swipes through new material, her attention grasped unlike before. 

Sight lingering down, you recognize the type of literature she holds. It only contributes more to your sorrow, left hopelessly gazing at the genre you’ve strayed extremely far from. 

Jin is silent from behind you, noticing that your immediate cheerfulness has disappeared within seconds. He’s still silent when you turn to him in disappointment, muttering the words he’s been trying to drill in your head since this morning. 

“I think….I’ll give it a shot.” 

He hums, gesturing for you to leave. “Just try your best, and don’t force yourself.” 

You nod, following after him once you’ve managed to tear your vision away from the scene. Although you’ve come down to the resolve he’s wanted, it doesn’t help at all to take away the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

***

You already have a concept in your hands. Now all you gotta do is write it. 

How hard can it be? 

Within the span of ten minutes, soft thugs begin to resonate through the room. You lull you head over and over again against the surface of your table, deep exhausted sighs leaving your body. 

Did you really say how hard can it be? Did the you of ten minutes ago actually think this was easy?!

Sinking back into your chair, you stare at the blank document with empty eyes. It hasn’t moved an inch in that time frame and neither have you. 

Romance ‒ that’s it. Just write a story about two people falling for each other and seal the deal with a pretty looking bow. 

But then why are you still stuck staring at the screen?

A groan of defeat leaves your lips and you slump against your desk. A brown-haired individual pokes by your door, raising an eyebrow. 

“All good?” Jin asks. You barely move your head, an indecipherable murmur releasing from your throat. 

“I see…” He hums at the answer, straightening up and leaning against the frame, “If you’re that stuck, why don’t you do some research about it? You usually like that, right?” 

At the sound of the suggestion, your head immediately whips back with a hopeful glint in your eyes. Jin conceals his laughter as you start rapidly typing on your keyboard, taking that as an indication to leave you be as he goes back to editing your recent stories. 

Meanwhile, you’re having the time of your life. 

Of course! Research! The saving grace in a writer’s world! 

You’ve done it countless times before. Whether it was about being knowledgeable in understanding the mechanics of worldbuilding, to figure out the basic meanings of things you’ve previously had no clue about. 

However, the aspect you’re not accustomed to is your screen filling up with random articles. 

“How to tell if you’ve met your lifetime soulmate?” You narrow your eyes, “Ten ways of getting your crush to like you back…?” 

You scroll through, coming across more strange suggestions that give you zero insight for your current situation. Frowning, you wonder if you’re not searching hard enough ‒ until your eyes are left staring at the small advertisement in the corner of the screen. 

“Check out the latest kdrama’s here….?” Hovering your mouse over the link, a broad spectrum of shows flood your eyes instantly. There’s a range of story types and titles, but what catches your interest the most is the tagline. 

In need for some romance? Heal the woes of your lonely heart here then!

You lean back, staring at the shows. You suppose it won’t hurt to check one of them out, after all, it could give you the details you’ve been searching for. 

Making up your mind, you commit the mistake of watching the first episode of a series. 

***

Jin rubs his sore eyes, letting out a low yawn. He’s been unpacking more and more boxes from the publisher, carefully organizing them based on genre for the past couple of hours. After that horrendous task, he has decided to go through the latest story you’ve handed over to him, vision glued to his monitor as he highlights and circles places of improvement. 

He doesn’t want to take the harsh approach, but it goes without saying that your writing has been a little lacking these days. Usually he lets you do your thing and he does his own as long as you meet the deadlines, but he wonders if you’ve sacrificed the caliber in your writing in exchange. 

It isn’t terrible as you would probably take it. It still follows the unique concept trend you’ve focused on for so long. However, there seems to be something missing, something he can’t quite pinpoint even after going through pages and pages. 

With a sigh, he squeezes his heavy eyes shut for a moment before narrowing in onto the screen again. But his thought process is snatched away with a loud thud, and he instantly raises his head, wondering if a book has perhaps fallen down. 

Surprisingly, nothing’s fallen. 

Glancing around, he can only ponder until a boisterous laugh echoes through the walls, closely followed with prolonged wails. He slowly rises from his seat, following the intense sound as the frequency increases. 

He comes to a pause in front of your door, knocking softly. “Y/N?” 

Instead of words, he greeted to a chain of sobs. Twisting the knob to your office, he pokes his head in. 

“Y/N? Are you ok‒” 

To his defence, your office looks exactly how he has initially left it. But now it’s completely dark save for the subdued corner in the room, where you lie wrapped around with a blanket. Your eyes are glued to the bright source of light in the room, namely your computer screen, and there’s a bag of popcorn alongside a box of tissues right next to you. Aside from the strange position, your cheeks are completely drenched and there’s a hysterical look to your eyes. 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Uh….” 

The sound of his voice catches your attention, eyes widening, “Jin! Oh my god, Jin, it's so sad!” 

“What’s sad?” 

“This kdrama!” You point to your screen, “It’s so sad! First they were friends, and then they started liking each other, but then they kissed and everything went downhill after this second guy came in!” 

Jin crouches down, barely able to make out what's on screen due to the excessive water sticking to it.

“You’re watching a drama?” 

You hurriedly nod, “Now the girl is starting to fall for the second guy because of a misunderstanding! How are they going to fix all this?!” 

“Y/N…” Jin says in exasperation, “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past couple of hours?” 

You pout, hiding the device that clearly displays episode seven. 

“N-No........” 

Jin pretends not to see it, “Y/N, your next deadline is within two weeks. You really need to start working on this.” 

He grabs hold of your arm, pulling you out of the kdrama cocoon you’ve built around yourself. You let out a deep sigh, pressing your hand against your temples. 

“You’re right...I need to stop wasting time…” You whisper and Jin hums, swiveling around. 

“I have to get back to editing but I’ll come back in an hour once I’m done.” You nod as he turns to leave, slumping back down on your desk with a tired exhale. 

He was right. The moment you clicked onto that link, the hours spun by faster than you could count them and you’ve got nothing done at this point. 

Prying open your laptop again, you resume back to the blank document. 

***

Jin has assumed his words have knocked some sense into you as he makes his way back to your office. 

What he doesn’t assume, is to see you sitting on the ledge of the broad window with a book in your hands. 

“You’re reading…?” He wonders. Normally he wouldn’t even question it, but his eyes drift over to the blank document once again and something tells him there’s more to the story than he initially thought. 

You look up surprised, as if you hadn’t expected his arrival. His eyes stray over to the title of the book in your hands, a groan leaving him. 

“Oh god, not this again Y/N!” 

“It’s to help me understand!” You try to reason, but Jin is short of a few words when you’re reading a bulky thick book called ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’. 

“How is this supposed to help you?” He points to the book and you defensively curl your arms around it. 

“Hear me out for a minute!” You quickly place it in your hands and rapidly flip through the pages. “Romantic love is considered to be a relation higher than the metaphysical and stems from a desire that transcends the physical body.”

Jin frowns, “What does that even mean?” 

“I have no idea. But!” You hastily intervene as Jin looks like he’s about to protest, “I think it can help me with creating the story.” 

“I don’t think any of this is going to work.” 

“What?” He walks over, taking the book out of your hands and straight up discarding it into your trash can. “HEY!” 

“You’re starting to run out of fuel.” He states, noticing the way your expression sours. You know he’s right, but won’t admit it. “You need to get away from all this.” 

He gestures to the book and the blank document you still have pulled up, reminding you of the ill circumstance you had yet to do something about. 

A dreary sigh leaves your lips, brows knitted together, “I’m trying Jin, I really am.” You gesture to the same empty document, “It’s just so hard. I-....I don’t know what to do.” 

Jin places a hand on your shoulder, nodding, “You’re out of your comfort zone and you’re having writer’s block. It’s understandable, but I don’t think research is what's going to help you this time.”

 You pout at that, but then Jin swivels around and hands your coat to you. 

“Why don’t you try going out for a walk? Clear out your mind and come back with some fresh inspiration?” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad…” You reminisce. Tugging your arms through the sleeves, Jin smiles and opens the door for you, ushering you towards the stairs that descend down. You wave at him before disappearing, hoping to yourself that you can get something out of this to clear away the clouds brewing over your creative mind. 

***

Glittering stars fill up the night sky, a bright crescent moon twinkling and illuminating the empty roads. Save for the sound of awake crickets and the faint honking of cars nearby, the sidewalk you trudge on is completely silent. 

It offers a different scenery compared to your cramped office room, something you didn’t realize you would appreciate as much until it dawns on you that you’ve probably spent several hours in the midst of trying to figure out your story instead of actually writing it. After all, you have been posed with a solid issue and as time spins by, you begin to think that it’s more than doing some mere research could possibly resolve. 

Tugging the hem of your coat closer to your red nose, your eyes glance around. You attempt to take some of Jin’s advice to heart, pondering if anything nearby can perhaps spark a flame of inspiration that you’ve been desperately lacking. 

That’s when you see it. 

Your brows furrow and you have to blink your eyes twice for it to make sense. Sheer curiosity traps you as you saunter over, tilting your head to the side and then to the opposite direction until you blink once more. 

Strokes of black and blue envelope the delicate white background that peeks through, specks of gray and white blotted carefully where the lines meet. There’s a peculiar circular shape portrayed in the middle of it, messily splattered with a hue of dull yellow. It looks like something you’ve come across before, something that felt familiar, something that‒

Your eyes look up, the same image appearing right above you. 

A frown mars your lips and when your vision focuses back on the piece, a head full of blonde hair sticks out from behind it. 

You’re almost ready to unleash a scream, not quite expecting movement from the presumed stationary canvas. You hear a soft sound, seemingly sounding like a low mumble, before silence takes over again. Raising an eyebrow, you take a step forward. 

It occurs to you that the canvas you had noticed was actually perched up against a wooden bench, and on that bench, is a person that’s sleeping. 

You hesitantly peer at them, noticing that the stranger was in fact a man. He appears to be in the middle of a snooze fest, chest lightly rising in the midst of soft snores escaping him. His face is entirely covered with a black beret, strands of blonde hair peeking out. 

There’s a list of questions in your mind, starting from why he was randomly lying down on the bench in the middle of the night to the painting that’s positioned next to his head. While the absurd scenarios explaining his situation run through your mind, his arm moves and you experience your second heart attack for the day. 

The beret falls down onto his lap as he stretches his arms, a deep yawn passes by his lips. You remain frozen as he does so, having moved a couple inches away once it dawned on you how odd it would probably be if he found out you were staring. 

He sleepily blinks his eyes, narrowing them at you. You’re about to explain yourself, but he instead asks you a question. 

“What time is it?” 

“Uh…” You scramble around for your phone, the screen lighting up, “11:34pm.” 

He hums, getting up and dusting off his jeans. Grabbing the fallen beret, he pushes the strands of his blonde hair back into the hat, revealing strong eyebrows underneath. He pulls out an old camera, hanging it around his neck and letting it drop down onto the brown coat he wears. 

His feline-like eyes glance at you in wonder, drastically different from his sleeping appearance on the bench. You let out an awkward cough, a light hue of pink spreading over your skin.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up. 

“Do you like my painting?” You raise your brows and blink. 

“Your painting?” He nods, a soft proud smile looping on his lips. You peer at the artwork in curiosity again. “You made this?” 

He hums, observing it with you, “I waited for hours to paint it.”

He points to the sky and the image finally begins to piece together for you. The black and blue embodying the sky, the shimmering stars scattered all over and the radiant moon, painted so brightly in the centre of all of it. 

“You waited out here to paint the sky?” 

A drawn out sigh escapes him, “Yep. I’m kind of stuck in a rut, you see.” He gestures to the painting again with a somber look in his eyes, “I wanted to paint something different, but I didn’t have any ideas, so I came out here instead to get the experience.” 

“Experience?” 

He hums, “It’s a lot easier to experience the moment than having to imagine it in your head.” 

“R-Right…” You whisper, still staring at his painting like you were stuck in the middle of a daze. You’re alarmed when he suddenly bends down and picks up the canvas with one arm, pivoting around to face you. 

“I have to get going now. Spent too much time painting that I didn’t get enough sleep.” He warmly smiles at you, outstretching his hand, “It was nice meeting you.” 

You take it confused and he gives you a small nod before leaving. You watch his back disappear, gaze averting to the large canvas tucked underneath his arm. 

Spinning around to head back, you dwell on his words more than you would like. 

Maybe this whole time your writer’s block was stemming from something else, something you truly didn’t realize was important until now. 

Experience. 

But how do you experience something that’s supposed to be completely natural? Something you’re utterly clueless about? 

Letting out an exhale, it seems like there’s only one person who can give you clear answers. 

***

You start off the next morning at a place you would never consider yourself to express interest in. 

The art museum. 

You recall hearing whispers and murmurs of a new art showcase going on, your curiosity only seeming to drag you there. The sudden spike in motivation causes Jin to question about your early departure, to which you retort that you’re drawing closer to grasping a solid idea for your story. 

Heading in, the gallery is completely adorned in pieces of art. There’s various types ‒ paintings, sculptures, graphic design ‒ you name it. You don’t realize you’re standing in awe until a couple behind you urges you to keep moving, an action that strains a sheepish smile across your lips as you hurriedly scurry away. 

You constantly glance around, observing each work you come across. One painting captures your attention, hues of pastel pink and mint green mixed together on the overlay of a figure carrying a smaller figure in their hands. Your lips set into a firm line as you draw closer, eyes tracing the outline. 

“You won’t understand it better if you keep staring at it like that.” 

You whirl around at the sound of the voice, not quite expecting to run right into the person you were searching for. The man smirks, wearing the same brown coat you saw him in last time. 

“How would you interpret it then?” 

He takes a step closer, narrowing his eyes in a way you did and you scoff at his mimicry. 

“I think it’s a painting of a mother and a child. She’s embracing her child and rocking them to sleep.” He points to the outline, “The colors are supposed to represent a sense of joy and relief with having her child in her arms.” 

You blink, managing to piece together everything he said perfectly. The figures do appear like a mother and child, and the colors only emphasize the warmth the outline portrays.

“Woah.” You whisper, probably having not realized all that unless someone told you, “How did you figure that out?” 

He smiles, “I’m the one who painted it.” 

“Oh.” A chuckle escapes him at your embarrassment and you sheepishly smile. Your eyes are drawn to the painting again, but this time you narrow down on the faint signature at the bottom. 

“V?” You raise an eyebrow, “Is that your name?” 

He softly shakes his head, “That’s just what I use for my art. My actual name is Kim Taehyung.” 

You hum and he leans forward, eyes curious. 

You automatically shift away, averting your eyes from his strong gaze. “What?”

“This is the part where you introduce yourself.” 

“Oh, right.” You outstretch your hand, “Y/N L/N.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He shakes your hand and swivels around, tilting his head as a means for you to follow him, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” 

You nod, hurriedly rushing behind him as he points out several pieces and their artists. You take occasional glances around at other pieces of artwork as well, one with a solemn blue background depicting a mountain catching your eyes instantly. 

“That’s really pretty.” You point out, and Taehyung endearingly laughs, glancing at you peculiarly. 

“I wonder if I should be flattered that you seem to like all my work.” 

“Y-You painted that one too?” 

“Yep, this gallery is pretty new so a lot of my work is in here.” He slightly turns his head, enough to see you behind him, “What about you? Got a real keen eye for art?” 

“Not really…” You truthfully admit, “I just happened to be walking by and thought I check it out.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He suddenly pauses, causing you to stop on your heels before you plummet right into him, “Are you sure you’re not stalking me since yesterday?” 

Your eyes enlarge, “What?! No, of course not! I just came in here because I heard about the recent showcase and thought...uh...” A deep sigh leaves you from your horrible inability to lie properly, “Thought I might run into you…” 

Taehyung pursues his lips, “Now that’s something I’m not sure if I should be creeped out or flattered by.” 

“Please don’t be creeped out!” You raise up your hands in defence, opting to tell him the truth, “I’m just stuck in the middle of writing a book and then I saw you yesterday…you were talking about how experiencing something helps you with your art…” 

His voice spikes up in awe, “You’re a writer?” 

You nod, “Ah, so different cameras but similar lenses…” 

“Huh?” 

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He fully turns to face you, a huge grin on his lips, “I don’t know if I’ll be of much use, but I can help you out if you’d like.” 

“Really?” Your eyes spark up, “Thank you so much, I-I can’t believe you would want to help me out…” 

“You’ve seen me being stuck in a rut.” He smiles, “I know the feeling.” 

You warmly return his smile, tempted to ask him more about his experiences in painting when a woman with a clipboard suddenly approaches the two of you. 

She intervenes, “Mr. Kim, the gallery would like to confirm your next showcase.” 

His eyes widen, “Ah, yes-” You watch as he shoves his hand into his coat pocket, hurriedly fishing around. 

He yanks out a small card, handing it to you, “It has all my contact information on it, shoot me a message whenever you have the chance.” 

You quickly take the card before he’s dragged away, sending him a nod in response. He grins, waving you farewell before turning and weaving through the crowds of people viewing the showcase. 

Gyrating around, you think it’s best you head back as well, knowing that Jin will be suspicious of the length of your disappearance. As you exit the museum, you glance down, reading the contents of the card. 

The background is an array of colours ‒ ranging from blues, greens, reds and even yellows that are splattered in a way that seems to form a tornado. His art name and phone number are in the corner, eerily reminiscent of the way he paints his pieces ‒ drawing you in with the outlays and colours before declaring himself. 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. 

***

You set out the next morning, the sun beginning to shine brighter as you head closer to your destination. 

You find him by the river, an old camera hanging from his neck ‒ just like the first time you had found him by the bench. 

A grin makes its way to his lips, his hand waving for you when you begin to draw closer. 

“Have difficulty finding it?” He gestures to the river behind you. 

You shake your head, keeping a pondering finger to your lips, “Not really, I’ve been here before. I usually go over there to see the book shops.”

You point over to the area you had last visited with Jin, reminiscing about finding your own books there. 

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “You’re a fan of reading other’s books?” 

“Of course!” You nervously chuckle, “It’s always great to see what other writers do with their books as well!” 

Taehyung stares at you for a moment, his gaze unwavering. 

“You went to go see your own books?” 

You sigh, squeezing your eyes, “I went to go see my own books.” 

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle and you look down, biting your bottom lip. 

“I’ll admit, it is a little odd‒” 

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, “You found me at my own showcase, didn’t you?” 

You blink, “Right…” 

He shrugs, “It’s a thing for everyone who creates. You want to see how the public reacts to your art.” 

You hum, a tad bit surprised by his straightforwardness. It’s an aspect that no creator would take into consideration first hand, but it’s an integral part of being one. 

The public always warrants how art is received, after all. 

Taehyung lifts his camera, adjusting his lenses before snapping a picture of the bookstore. You watch in confusion as he examines the picture. 

“I’m surprised you like taking photos.” You innocently inquire, “Does it help you paint?” 

Taehyung glances at you. 

“You know the feeling of trying to stop time?” 

Your brows knit together and he softly smiles, “When you take a picture, you capture a moment and stop time for a second. It isn't long, but it’s enough for a photograph.” 

You watch as he slips his hand into his coat pocket, showcasing a small array of photographs. Images of the sun setting with mixes of bold orange and solemn blue are shown to you, another with a stream of ducks making ripples within the water. There’s ones of buildings and people too, but all of them are taken in angles that are captivating shots of laughter and shots of despair that could have easily been missed if the photograph had a lapse of time. 

It almost reminds you of when you’re attempting to capture a particular scene in your mind as your fingertips glide on your keyboard, drawing in an atmosphere that has the reader’s senses all working. 

The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, observing the gears in your head turning. 

It only takes you a handful of seconds to notice, a bashful smile lining your lips. 

“Writing is like that too, not exactly similar⎯” You retract immediately, “But trying to draw in the five senses around you and bringing it out into literature…” 

You glance up at Taehyung, curious to see if you were making any sense at this point. He’s no longer facing you at this point. Instead his body is facing the river, eyes fluttering shut. 

There’s a spark in your own, and you hurriedly continue. 

“Like this river isn’t just the scene,” You point out, “it’s the sun shining down and reflecting on the surface near the moss. It’s the birds crossing alongside the path and the voices of people nearby echoing. It’s the faint breeze in the air and the smell of greenery.”

“It’s peaceful,” Taehyung hums in content, “and calming.” 

A soft smile crosses your features, “That’s what writing is like for me, taking inspiration from the real world and capturing it all into words.” 

His eyes open and you notice the knowing gaze he holds, as if everything that you’ve tried to explain is second nature to him. 

“So what has you stuck?” He inquires. 

A deep sigh escapes you, the acknowledgement occurring that he was actually here to help with your current predicament. 

“A new genre.” You admit with a grimace, “I’ve written plenty of different ones before, but there were always ones I understood well and I had no problem with creating stories from them.”

You continue, “And even if it was hard, I’ve always been able to figure it out somehow, you know? If I didn’t know about something, I would research it. If I was confused, I look it up-” 

You decide to stop yourself, knowing that those outlets hadn’t been much help at this point. “I’m just…really out of my element, and the worst part is that it’s exactly what the market wants right now.” 

You cross your arms, a small pout landing on your lips. It’s not like that you haven’t been vocal about your frustrations, but more so that you’re just slumped, unable to conjure anything up onto that document with the slightest clue of where to even begin.

Taehyung ‒ who had been quietly observing you the entire time ‒ puts his camera down and places his finger on his chin. 

“Sometimes when I struggle to paint something new, I procrastinate.” You arch up a brow, “Like bad procrastinate. My canvas starts to collect dust.” 

A chuckle escapes you and he smiles, “But then I try to think why I’m procrastinating. Do I just not feel like painting? Or is it because of something else…?” 

He stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to finish his sentence. 

You ponder, “I guess…I’m scared in a way? Of not knowing what I’m doing.” 

He hums, “When that happens, I like taking out my camera. Going around and taking pictures not only gives me experience, but also lets me experience my surroundings better.” He glances around until his eyes land on you, “Sometimes I can find inspiration. Sometimes I can find interesting individuals.” 

Your eyes round and he turns, angling himself back a bit and taking a snapshot of the river. You peer over his shoulder and he moves closer to you so you can view the picture better. 

It’s pretty ‒ he was able to get the forecast of the sun over the bank of the river perfectly, alongside the little daisies growing alongside the shore. 

“Nice?” He wonders and you nod, face brightening, “Good. Now just don’t ask me to paint it, that’ll be scary for me.” 

You laugh and he turns to walk down the bank of the river with a smile. 

***

The next time you get an opportunity to meet Taehyung, there’s a whirlwind in the sky. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with him at the art gallery, but regrets are thrown all over the place the moment the wind blasts through your hair. The chills run down your spine, pickling at your skin as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Jin tells you not to go, or at most, to re-schedule. But a part of you is incredibly stubborn, frustration running through you when you know you’ll just end up in the same place ‒ staring at that blank document for endless hours. 

As you hug your body as much as you can, you strut down the bustling street and glance back and forth. 

Taehyung thankfully appears within a couple of seconds, his silhouette emerging from across the street. 

Your eyes round. 

He wears the same brown coat he always wears, but this time there’s no beret on his head. Instead his blonde locks are pushed back by the wind, his strong brows furrowed and eyes closed as he tries to navigate himself against the vicious breeze. 

You’re not sure if it's the cold nipping at your cheeks or the shiver running through you, but the way your cheeks burn is enough to notice. 

He glances up, eyes locking with yours. A wide smile stretches up on his lips that nearly makes you falter. 

“Y/N.” 

His deep voice calls your name, concern crossing his features. 

“Have you been waiting long?” 

You shake your head, “I-I just got here.” 

“That’s good.” He hums, glancing around. “Not exactly my ideal weather, if I do say.” 

You laugh, “I’m surprised my ears haven’t managed to fall off yet.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts and before you know it, he’s extending his arm forward. You glance at him surprised, but he nudges you and then gestures in the opposite direction. 

“Come on.” 

You slip your hand in, linking your arms together. Taehyung begins to walk forward, navigating you around the busy marketplace. Surveying around, there’s various stores lined up across the edge of the street, vendors alike having many displays for you to view. 

There wasn’t anything in particular for you to buy, but Taehyung had suggested that it would be good for you to come out with him and explore the new area. It makes you wonder if he wanted you to get more experience going out since after all, you spent more of your time writing and being bit of a hermit. 

You peer over at him, noticing his eyes occasionally flickering and observing all the stalls he went past. It was one thing you had learned about Taehyung quickly, that it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he always had this way of taking in his surroundings carefully, like he was studying every aspect. 

That’s when you hear a soft gasp escape him, his hand finding yours as he rushes forward. His feet then come to an abrupt halt and you nearly trip between your own two feet. 

Regaining your balance, you peer over his shoulder and notice his eyes are sparkling. Before you have a chance to question any of it, your hand is being tugged again, the bell to the store’s door ringing above you. 

Your most straightforward assumption at this point was that the store must have had something to do with painting, but you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself surrounded with pieces of clay, all decorated with bold and bright colours on various shelves. 

Ceramic Art. 

You distinctly recall reading about it in a book once, but had never gotten the opportunity to see it up front and close. 

A piece captures your eyes immediately, your brows drawing together. 

“That’s a unique one.” Taehyung remarks, stepping to stand beside you. 

Quirking an eyebrow, the question lingers in your mind. 

“I didn’t know you did ceramic art as well.” 

Taehyung chuckles, “I actually don’t.” He puts his hands within the pockets of his coat, “It isn’t my area of expertise, but I like seeing different forms of art. Ironically, I find the way of expressing it to be the exact same.” 

You blink as Taehyung steps away, taking strides towards other surrounding pieces of art and inspecting them. You’re left staring as he gazes at a pot that’s been shaped similar to a moon, swirls of dark blue and yellow specks decorating the smooth ceramic. 

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips. 

“It looks just like something you would have painted.” 

Taehyung frowns, before the corners of his mouth quirk up. “I didn’t even notice, I just thought it looked beautiful.” 

“You definitely have a good eye for art.” 

“It would appear so.” He lightly laughs, turning around to view more of the art. 

A part of you curiously lingers, walking up to him. 

You peer over, “Does this mean you see my writing as art too?” 

“Of course.” His head snaps back, “Art’s all about expression, doesn’t matter what medium you choose.” 

Your face lights up.

“However,” He brings up and your eyes widen, “Every artist is never the same. People always have different stories to tell and that’s completely okay. That’s what makes them all unique.” 

A glimmer enters your eyes. After the endless frustrations with your recent book, his words do send you a sense of reassurance. It can sometimes be difficult to have someone else understand why you do things the way you do ‒ even you and Jin have had your fair share of arguments over various disagreements ‒ but it all pinpointed to seeing everything in a different perspective. 

You grin, “I can understand that.” 

His eyes soften, “I think it also means that some genres can be harder than others, but everyone can bring their unique take on them.” 

Brows lifting, your gaze fixates on him. But he spins around, gesturing for you to come over and to observe more art with him. 

You walk over with no hesitation. 

***

The following time you find Taehyung, fall is still letting her leaves shed and he invites you over to his studio.

A part of you is beaming with excitement ‒ having only ever seen his artistic ways when he was attempting to paint the stars and you had coincidentally stumbled across him that night. But a part of you can’t shake away the jitters, jitters that you don’t want to spend time trying to understand, deciding to just push it all away as you set out for the day.

The wind is gustful, snipping at your nose and cheeks. Hues of warm orange and bright yellow litter the ground and top the trees, the sun hiding behind grey clouds that ever so let droplets of water release. 

It’s scenery that grasps you within its clutches, glimmering your eyes with awe and leaving your mouth agape. 

And it’s the same scenery that he seeks to capture. 

You have the simple pleasure of watching as he draws lines of jade for the trees and splatters on specks of orange and yellow. He scrambles to paint the few individuals that walk past his vision, capturing their essence into carefully placed frames. 

His art style lingers between mimicking the surroundings but somehow elevating it as well, drawing in the observer with his interesting use of colour and texture. 

You can only seem to watch, lost in it as well. 

Time flies from you as he adds the final touches to his piece and you finally notice the way his hands are completely stained, some paint having even made its way to his nose. His brushes have seen the light of day, piled next to him in a canister. 

And in the midst of it, he looks upon his painting and grins. He turns to you for the first time since you’ve arrived, breaking the complete silence as he laughs with his deep tone. 

“Well, that was a lot of fun.” 

You can’t help but burst into laughter as well, completely astounded by the difference in his demeanour. Astounded how easily you saw both a painter in his element and a man in his twenties observing his surroundings within the same split second. 

You end up helping him clean each of his used brushes, watching him walk down the street with you as paint still remains on his face and hands. 

***

“Someone seems to be doing well for themselves.” 

The retort breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping up. 

“Huh?” There’s a book encased within your hands, one of the few titles you had referenced in writing your mystery story. 

Jin laughs under his breath. He hasn’t been able to see much of you for a while, only just knowing that you had met a painter by the name of Taehyung and he was all you would talk about these days. 

He tucks away a book in his own hands, “You were smiling so much that I assumed everything has been working out. Has Taehyung’s advice been that helpful?” 

Your eyes twinkle, spinning around on your heels. 

“It has been! He’s so much fun to talk to, and he’s got great insight, Jin.” Your smile widens, “Who knew seeing eye to eye with a painter would be so easy?” 

Jin grins, “It’s definitely got you in high spirits, I can tell you that.” 

“I need to introduce you to him, Jin. I think you’ll get along great!” You chirp, reaching down to open another box. 

“Woah, woah,” Jin draws closer, halting you, “I’ll take care of that, you’ve got some writing to do, remember?” 

A giant pout arises on your lips, “But I said I was going to help you.”

“And you will, by writing for your new book.” He points out, “Spending time with Taehyung should have sparked something, no?” 

You hum defeatedly, knowing he had a point. You had spent so much of your time with him, it was only hopeful that his words would have incited some creativity to strike you. 

Letting out a big sigh, you drag yourself back to your desk and open up your computer, the blank document is showcased once again to your eyes. 

***

You want to pound your head against the table. 

The good news is that your document is no longer left blank. There’s rough jot notes littered on it, some random junctions from the brainstorming you were doing on ideas for the story. You’re trying to indulge your unique perspective onto the story, concepts for certain scenes stemming from a cool night out in the stars, a riverside and a busy marketplace. 

But it isn’t enough. 

The bad news is that you, out of all people, know that ideas are just a base. You need to build up a coherent story from it, create characters, create dynamics. And you have none of those at this moment. 

It’s like all the surface level information is just complete, not the heart of your story. 

You contemplate on how to begin, eyes sweeping over the jot notes listed on your document countless times. You start pulling at anything in your mind, anything that could be linked to writing romance. 

A deep exhale leaves your lips, shoulders slumping down. Your hand reaches out for your mouse, closing the document tab before going to the search bar, the urge to delve in and research the topic tempting you. 

You know you had tried to take a different approach with this, tried not to linger too much on the various articles, but despite the unique types of experiences you’ve had in the last couple of weeks, there still isn’t an answer to the question in your mind. 

How do people even start to fall in love?

You’re in the midst of searching the question, eyes already filtering through various articles ‒ when suddenly there's a flicker in your dim eyes. 

Halting your racing fingertips against the keyboard, the mouse in your hands is abandoned. 

You shoot up from your desk, yanking the door wide open and running outside. 

***

Jin hums a soft tone in the serene silence, opening up a box to unload the books onto the table. He’s been set on organising the newer ones that had just come in, attempting to distract himself before he checks in on you and your progress with your writing. 

The door comes bursting open. 

The book slips through his fingers and a blood-curdling scream escapes his throat. He spins around, brows furrowed together. 

You stand in a starfish stance at the door, eyes wild and breathing heavy. 

“What happened?!” Jin questions, holding a frantic hand against his racing heart. 

“You‒” You raise a shaking finger at him, still gasping for air. Jin wonders why you even decided to run so fast when he’s literally a couple of doors away. “You have a girlfriend.” 

He blinks, sheer unamusement crossing his features, “Seriously? That shouldn’t be news to you!” 

“I know!” You raise your hands in defence, “But I have some questions I want to ask you.” 

He cranes his head to the side, “You’re going to interview me?” 

“Kind of.” Jin doesn’t have time to react when you’re already reaching out for a chair, dragging it closer to him. 

He sits down opposite to you with a groan, “At least tell me this is for the book.” 

“Hold on.” You settle down, scrutinising him, “Do you love your girlfriend?” 

A scoff escapes him, “Of course I do!” 

“Good, now how did you fall in love?” 

Jin blinks, surprised by the genuine question. You seem interested as well, eyeing him intently. 

“We met back in college.” He softly smiles, his complexion tinting pink, “She was close to someone in my friend circle and I thought she was really cute.” 

“Was it love at first sight?” 

“Sort of.” Jin tilts his head, “She was kind, but I wanted to get to know her before anything so we became friends first.” He explains, “Eventually, I realised I liked her a lot and asked her out.” 

You hum and Jin doesn’t even realize you’re writing something down, pen in hand as you scribble onto a piece of paper. 

“I can’t believe you wanted to hear about my experience.” He remarks. 

“Well, I don’t really understand the romance genre in general.” You mumble, still writing. “And Taehyung said that sometimes experiencing things can help with his art, so I thought talking to someone who has experience would help me.” 

Jin quirks a brow, a scrutinising look brewing in his eyes. It catches you off guard when you finally look up, taken aback by him surveying you. 

“What?”

He narrows his eyes, “What’s the deal with Taehyung?” 

You stare at him wide-eyed. “Deal? What deal?” 

“You know what I mean.” Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms. The suspicious look in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “Ever since you met him, there's been a lot of ‘Taehyung this’ and ‘Taehyung that’.” 

You sigh, his words drawing out a conclusion from you. 

“He’s not being distracting, Jin.” You firmly state, much to his surprise. It was always a rare occasion for you to be completely serious. “I’ve learned a lot from him, and he’s truly really fascinating and inspiring to be around.” 

A soft smile spreads on your features, recalling all the fond times Taehyung was either teaching you about the way he viewed the world or the places he would take you to explore. 

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realize that Jin is still staring at you, the suspicion only increasing further in his eyes. 

Jin doesn’t beat around the bush this time. 

“Do you like Taehyung?” 

You nearly choke, reality bringing you back as the air leaves your lungs in an instant. Glancing up at Jin mortified, you wonder how he drew up that conclusion. 

“W-What?! No!” A hue of pink scatters onto your cheeks and Jin quirks his head to the side, like he’s not impressed. 

“Really?” He wonders out loud, “Since that museum trip of yours, your head seems to be up in the clouds and as someone knowledgeable in the romance department,” He flutters his fingers like he’s throwing sparkles at you, “I’m starting to think otherwise.” 

“That’s crazy!” You retorted in defence, “I can’t like Taehyung!” 

“You can’t?” He says playfully, “That’s far from don’t.” 

You hurriedly get up, collecting the notes you’ve written. “I-I need to get back to writing.” 

The corners of Jin’s lips lift, since this is the first time he hasn’t had to ask you himself to work on your book.

***

He’s just assuming.

You think, hurriedly slipping into your chair. Tapping on your computer, you wait for the pitch black screen to light up. 

There was no possible way. Taehyung was simply just helping you with your writer’s slump. 

Blinking your eyes a couple of times, you attempt to shake away the lingering thoughts and bring yourself back into focus for this novel. 

Only for your eyes to land right on your lit screen, the search you had begun popping in front of your face. 

The curiosity is drawn out from you, and before you know it, you begin to scroll. 

Majority of them fall within the same bracket of the research you were attempting to do in the beginning process of this book, with links advertising love advice and even counselling. A new link to a kdrama even pops up, something you have to will yourself to ignore. 

Until one article crosses your eyes, one that has you more curious than ever. 

Having difficulty in finding out if you’ve fallen in love? Find out here!

You frown, hovering over it for a split second. But then you shake your head, reciting to yourself that it was for the sake of writing the novel. 

The articles flashes before you, paragraphs of information presented that you proceed to skim through. 

“Falling in love is compared with the feeling of euphoria…” 

You mumble under your breath, moving past it. 

“....There is a semblance of love and trust…” 

An idea for a climax ‒ you note ‒ that would tie in nicely with the finale of a romance book. 

“...Rifts are commonly experienced…” 

You have to create conflict somehow, maybe a difference in opinions. 

“Usually the act of falling in love progresses within five steps𑁋“ 

Your nose crinkles, the corner of your lips twitching. 

“There’s steps?” You mutter, body abruptly freezing. Drawing closer to your screen, your eyes slowly drift over the words. 

“Stages are reached, each increasing with the notion of being in love. They are known as,” 

Attraction. 

Curiosity. 

Attachment. 

Denial. 

Acceptance. 

It’s a list. 

Your genre can follow a list? 

Tossingthe thought into the back of your mind, you eagerly continue, curiosity running haywire at this point. 

“Attraction is the initial stage, symbolising the origin of interest and can be considered on physical guidelines.” 

“Curiosity follows as second, with interest in the person only increasing as time passes by.” 

“Attachment signifies the creation of a bond, the mind filled with new thoughts and changes.” 

“Denial is the hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.” 

“Acceptance. Welcoming the thought that you have fallen in love.”

Your mouth twists, each stage sounding more vague and philosophical as the one that came before it. The thought of digging out your ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’ book from where it was discarded suddenly occurs, until you find yourself re-reading the stages a couple of times over again. 

As you lean back into your chair, there’s a glint in your eyes. 

Your biggest mistake was assuming you had the willpower to wave off the lingering thoughts, because they come pouring right back in before you can stop them. 

If by any chance, he was right𑁋

The stages would have to be followed….

Right? 

You cross your arms, skimming through the contents once again. 

Attraction. 

Did you find Taehyung attractive? 

You recall first finding him underneath the glittering moonlight, his sleeping form residing on the bench and his artwork displayed just inches away from him. You can remember him stirring, his feline like eyes holding a strong gaze that almost made you lose your breath. 

It’s the same gaze he holds while he’s painting, you pinpoint, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

You abruptly blink, shaking your head. 

Curiosity. 

To say you didn’t find Taehyung interesting, would have been a huge understatement. 

He was different from you, but not in a way that you couldn’t understand. Instead, you found yourself a lot more alike than you had expected, his artistic lens meeting yours. 

Attachment. 

What even is that? 

You can’t help but ponder, thinking at the most you were attached to your writing and books, having an avid imagination since you were young and always finding your footsteps gravitating towards the library. You would find yourself absolutely consumed with the different worlds, eventually leading you towards a career within it. 

It was a bond in a way ‒ one that you would always have. 

Your lips pursue, a hardened expression taking over. 

Was it possible to have the same feeling with another person? 

You let out a long sigh, eyes flickering over to the next stage. 

Denial. 

You freeze. 

The hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.

The thought snaps into your head unannounced and soon you’re scrambling, attempting to get back to working on your book. 

A low chuckle leaves you, tinged with nervousness. 

“There’s no possible way…” 

***

You stand awkwardly in front of the door, swaying between your two feet. 

The home before you is small, looking only to being one-story high and consisting of old granite. There’s an exceptional amount of greenery near it, with a small garden at the side where you can notice subtle cherry tomatoes growing. 

There was no telling how you could have best reacted when Taehyung had suddenly messaged you, asking if you would like to come over. You had accepted as always, but you didn’t realize what that exactly entailed until you were standing a mere couple of footsteps away from his door. 

Looking down, you groan, wishing Jin had never said anything to you. 

The sound of a lock turning has you abruptly on guard, the door yanking open before you can even collect yourself. 

And it seems like Taehyung doesn’t give you that opportunity either. 

He’s dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants, blonde hair falling to his eyes and a bit ruffled. It’s a stark contrast to constantly seeing him in his brown coat and beret, a casualness that feels too utterly unfamiliar for you. 

“Hi.” He says in a low voice, greeting you with a warm smile. 

For a moment, you could feel time stopping ‒ one simple thought occurring to you. 

He really is beautiful. 

Taehyung seems to notice your daze, brows furrowing for a moment. 

“Y/N?” 

“Uh, hi!” You squeak, probably too many octaves too high. 

“Is everything okay?” He ponders and you aggressively shake your head, to which Taehyung stares at you peculiarly for, but ultimately decides to take your word for it. 

“Come in.” He steps back in and leaves the door open for you, gesturing to you to follow. You carefully step forward, getting welcomed to the humble abode he calls his home. 

The inside is spacious and ornate, the walls being painted with striking colours and light decorations littering the area. The interior seems to match the exterior in a way, appearing rustic but unique at the same time. 

It’s cozy. And comforting. 

“I apologize for it being messy.” Taehyung states from behind you, quickly picking up a couple of art books on the ground and moving them into a nearby shelf. “My two roommates left to go out of town, and I’ve been here by myself.” 

“That’s okay.” You say right away, only to realize that also meant the two of you were alone in here. 

He seems to read your mind as well, quickly continuing, “I brought you here for a reason, though I’m not too sure how you’ll take to it.” 

You glance at him confused and he walks past you, heading towards one of the doors in the hallway. 

Following behind him, he turns to face you. “You saw what my recent art pieces were like at the showcase, but I wanted to do something different for my next pieces. Something more abstract," He explains, eyes lighting up, “and something that’s a bit more fun.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls agape. Because before you is a completely empty room and in the center of it stands a giant blank canvas. 

“What…?” You whisper in awe, walking towards it. Taehyung leans against the door frame, a huge grin on his face as he watches you. 

You turn, “What is this?” 

“I know you’ve been struggling with your novel,” He confesses, “and I thought we could paint this together. Give your creative mind a nice break.” 

You’re still in disbelief and he struts up next to you, a playful tone in his voice you’ve never heard before. “Of course, I’ll give you credit for being part of my piece.” 

A laugh escapes you, shaking your head at his antics. 

Your eyes connect with his. 

“Let’s do this.” 

***

A wave of light orange splatters diagonally onto the white of the canvas. 

You glance at it surprised, the bucket of paint still in your hands. 

Taehyung chuckles, amused with your aim. “Not bad, Y/N.” 

You smile, putting it down as Taehyung grabs a bright green one, putting all his force into it. 

It splatters in the opposite direction, almost creating an ‘X’ shape. 

He whistles at the sight and you dash over to the other buckets, kneeling down for another colour. Taehyung had luckily lent you his clothes for the occasion so as to not ruin your own, but as a result the clothes you adorned were a bit bigger in size, hanging off your frame. 

You pick up a white in curiosity and Taehyung fondly watches as you quirk your head side to side, ultimately deciding to just go with it. 

Chucking the colour against the canvas, the white creates a splatter right in the center. Taehyung hurriedly rushes over to you, a can of smaller paints in his hands with different colours. You chuckle at his eagerness and the way his hands are already stained with colour. 

“Keep going,” He encourages, eyes brighter than you have ever seen, “It looks incredible.” 

You nod enthusiastically, taking the smaller ones and splattering them across. They come out this time as blots and lines, giving more dimension to the base you and Taehyung first made. 

After having used all your energy in attempting to add in more depth with the shapes and colours, Taehyung continues, following your streaks instead of disrupting them. He’s always had an exceptional visual eye, understanding perfectly on where to pick up where you left off, and it’s definitely another one of things you’ve adored about him. 

Taehyung’s eyes are wide, a childish glint in them that you’re so happy to have been able to witness. But you don't know that it matches the same glint residing in your own eyes, mischievousness running through every fibre of your body when you pick up a small bucket of blue. 

He turns and before he has the chance to say anything to you, a hue of azure blue covers half of his face. 

He blinks in shock for a moment, hand coming up to swipe and realize that there was indeed paint on his face. However, his eyes flicker up to connect with yours and all he can see is you grinning from ear to ear. 

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a red that lands all over the front of your shirt and side of your ear. 

From there, it’s like a chord’s snapped. 

Colours are flying back and forth, from high to low volumes, and in the midst of all this, yours and Taehyung’s voice are running loud, laughs and giggles echoing around the room. As if two children are playing together rather than two adults simply trying to paint. 

Taehyung matches your energy so well, attempting to create even more chaos when there’s orange landing directly on your hair after you skillfully managed to get a splatter of purple on his. It’s when the paint shoots out from your hair onto the canvas that an idea occurs to him, his blue covered hand slipping onto yours. 

“Wait, Y/N!” 

You freeze, staring at him puzzled. He takes your hand, leading you into the front of the canvas before backing away, gazing at you with intent. 

The look in his eyes makes you fidget a bit, wishing he would hurriedly tell you what was on his mind. 

He raises a hand, halting you in place. “Stay there. Just like that.” 

To your surprise, he picks up a large volume of purple, standing right before you. 

“Close your eyes, Y/N. Put your hands over them.” 

His stance finally alerts you to his intentions, eyes squeezing shut and hands reaching over when you feel a wave of cold paint splash all over you. You wait for a moment as it all drips down, collecting into a pool of purple right below your feet. 

Taehyung takes your hand, leading you away from the canvas and next to him as you blink, the piece of art showcasing itself to you. 

There’s colours. Everywhere. All appearing between a mixture of random to extremely skillful. All coming from you and Taehyung. And right in the middle of the mix is you. 

Your silhouette perfectly lined with a gorgeous shade of purple. 

“It’s beautiful.” Taehyung breathes.

You are suddenly very glad there’s paint all over your face, unsure if you would be able to hide the burning expression over your features. 

However, the burn abruptly increases, a stinging sensation coming from your face that wells tears. 

“Ah.” You wince, rolling into yourself as your hand hovers over your eyes. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s hands are cupping your face before you can say anything. “Y/N, look at me.” 

You obey his instructions, facing him but keeping your eyes squeezed shut. His thumb pads hurriedly brush out the paint that has managed to drip near your eyes. 

“Is it gone?” You urgently ask, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Give me one second.” Taehyung whispers, his hands disappearing for a moment before a cool cloth is pressed against your eyes. 

You let out a sigh of relief and the cloth is promptly discarded, your eyes fluttering open. 

A part of you wishes you kept them closed. 

Taehyung’s face is just inches away from yours, and you can feel the low breaths he lets out. 

It’s a fact he seems to realize in that instance himself as well, and there’s a silence that cuts through the air as you continue to stare into each other’s eyes. 

Your heart pounds frantically within your chest. After what feels like an eternity, Taehyung moves first, attempting to close the gap but keeping his eyes trained on you. You don’t move for a second, kept frozen beneath his entire presence being so close to you. 

It’s when his lips are hovering just above yours, you break the comforting silence. 

“W-Where’s your shower?” You look away, grimacing at how broken your voice sounds. 

Taehyung doesn’t respond at first, a flash of hurt crossing his features that you don’t see. But it quickly disappears and he clears his throat, separating from you. 

“The first door on your left.” 

“Thank you.” You quietly say, turning around immediately. 

You stalk up to the door, halting when your hand meets the knob. Glancing back at Taehyung, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at the artwork you’ve just made together with a somber look in his eyes. 

Your body stiffens and he glances back in your direction, a small smile on his lips that doesn’t seem to meet his eyes. 

Turning to leave, it’s difficult to ignore the way your chest tightens. 

***

Your shower was supposed to only be fifteen minutes, but it ends up feeling like a century. 

The intent should be to get the copious amounts of paint out of your hair and skin, but as the steam clouds the air and the water drips down from your forehead onto the ground, your head remains planted against the shower wall, eyes squeezed shut. 

It doesn’t help that there’s still a faint pool of purple swirling around your feet. 

Stepping out of the shower, you open the door and peek outside, only to find your clothes folded on a small chair that’s been positioned right before the bathroom. Sheepishly reaching out, you discard the clothing Taehyung had given you and put your own back on. 

You bump into Taehyung within seconds of exiting. 

“Y/N.” His eyes meet with yours and you halt your steps. There’s unease brimming in his, but it’s something he doesn’t try to bring up. 

“You’re leaving?” He ponders and you shake your head, completely confused on what to even say. 

“Taehyung…” You begin, “I‒” 

He raises his hand up, “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” 

It’s hard to not let the guilt show up on your face, but Taehyung leads you to the front door, opening it up for you. 

“You helped me with creating a great piece of art.” He says optimistically, “Thank you, Y/N.” 

“O-Of course.” You mumble, casting your head down. 

Before you can step out, his hand finds your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispers, “And I wish you the best of luck with your book. If it’s you, I think it’s sure to come out amazing.” 

His words always have a way of giving you a sense of comfort, your frustrations and conflicts with yourself melting away. 

But you don’t expect what he says next, “If you ever need anything, anything at all,” The gaze in his eyes leaves you forgetting how to breathe, “I’m always here.” 

It’s not until he lets go of you that you remember your intent to leave, slipping away slowly as he closes the door. 

***

Jin doesn’t understand why you’re so intent on giving him a heart attack. 

The door slams open and you suddenly emerge. But Jin doesn’t have time to retaliate about you freaking him out constantly or that you’ve been out all day and that you need to be making more progress with your book. 

Instead, it looks like a piece of your soul’s been crushed. 

“Y/N?” He loudly ponders, simply left just staring at you as you hurriedly kick your boots off. 

“Jin!” You exclaim, seemingly breathless. 

“Did you run here or something?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his words. You simply hand him your coat, heading into your room. 

“Where’s my computer?” You question, glancing at him wildly. He’s taken back a bit, but he answers your question. 

“There was an electrical issue that needed to be fixed so I temporarily moved it.” He points down the hall, “It’s in the spare room with all the hard copies.” 

“Good.” You exhale, dashing over. 

“Wait, Y/N‒” He isn’t able to get a word in, the door closing with a loud thud. 

There’s a plethora of questions at the tip of his tongue, ranging from why it took you so long to what could have possibly happened, but Jin isn’t able to ponder for long when he suddenly hears the frantic typing of your keyboard. 

***

Twenty-four hours. 

Jin crosses his arms, standing in front of the room that you have yet to emerge from since the past twenty-four hours. He didn’t say much after you had barged in yesterday and confined yourself inside, simply locking up for the day and leaving some takeout on the table outside in case you got hungry. 

And that was all due to the look in your eyes. 

It’s a look he’s seen before, on days where you’ve been engrossed in your writing, too occupied with your own racing mind to halt your actions. However, this time he notices a sense of urgency that wasn’t there before. 

Which is why when you do finally emerge, he can’t believe what you’re waving in front of his eyes. 

“Here you go.” You say, handing him the USB in your hands, “It’s all done, the entire novel.” 

“Y/N.” He says astonished, staring at you in pure awe, “How did you manage to write it all?” 

You laugh at that and Jin is a little unnerved, wondering how on earth you didn’t look crazy after staying in that one room for so long and just simply typing. 

“I think I’ll always be a hermit to some degree.” You toss your coat over your shoulders, reaching down for your shoes. 

“Where are you going?” He questions, watching as you finish putting on your boots. 

You smile, “I have to go find someone.” 

Jin’s eyes widen and without saying another word, you turn to head towards the door. 

He scoffs underneath his breath once you leave. 

“I knew it.” 

***

Taehyung isn’t picking up your calls. 

You hurriedly dial the number again on your phone, hearing the familiar ringing over and over until you’re sent to voicemail. 

Once the other end beeps, you mumble underneath your breath. 

“Taehyung, call me please.” 

After leaving the message, you slide your phone into your coat pocket, glancing at the destination you hurried towards. 

The home is still there, appearing exactly how you had just left it two days ago. 

You frantically knock against the door. 

Surely it opens, but to reveal someone else entirely. 

“Oh.” You mutter, your expression of relief morphing into awkward surprise. The man standing before you looks equally confused, surveying your face. 

“You are…?” He squints, like he’s attempting to place a name to your face. 

You answer right away, “I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N?” He repeats, eyes sparkling. “Really? Wow, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” 

A nervous laugh escapes you, “And you are…?” 

“Oh, sorry.” He sheepishly smiles, reaching out his hand. “My name is Jimin, I’m one of Taehyung’s roommates.” 

You nod in recognition, “Are you looking for Taehyung?” 

“Yes!” You suddenly exclaim, “Do you know where he is?” 

“I just got back in last night.” He says with a grimace, “But Taehyung wasn’t here, the last I heard he was preparing for his next showcase.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Thank you, Jimin! I’ll be on my way now!” He waves you goodbye and you spin on your heels, knowing exactly where you needed to be. 

***

The art museum looks exactly the same, pieces on for display and spectators walking from room to room, inspecting each one. 

However, each exhibit represents a multitude of different artists, none consisting of the one you’re searching for. 

“Excuse me.” 

You poke a lady that’s wearing a gallery uniform, expectantly looking at her. 

“Where is Taehyung’s‒” You bite your tongue, “Sorry, V’s exhibit?” 

“Ah, I’m afraid we’re in the midst of clearing up for his next one.” She says with remorse, “There are some of his pieces still left over there if you’d like to view them.” 

“I see…” Your shoulders slump in defeat, but you do thank her for helping you out. Heading towards the direction she pointed out, you find the paintings from the last time you had visited the museum. 

The corners of your lips curl up. You recall being here, attempting to find the peculiar man after seeing him underneath the starry sky without knowing much about how close you would grow to be. 

You come across the same painting, remembering how easily his ability to capture expansive sceneries was. But that’s when you see one of his new pieces, a soft gasp escaping you. 

It’s the painting you created together, fully displayed in all its glory. 

But it’s not the only one. 

There’s a set of three different canvases, all with artworks of you. 

One of them is the same painting of the night sky you saw before, but the sky is painted with a deep purple now, the same colour that was outlined with your silhouette. The moon is completely full, stars scattered around that are brighter with a hue of white. You don’t fall to notice that there’s also a bench added at the bottom. 

Another one of them is a splatter of photographs, photographs you didn’t even know he took of you. There’s images from the river side, pictures coming from the marketplace, and in all of them he’s managed to capture the spark in your eyes. 

The last one has you frozen. 

It’s a portrait, but not just a portrait of you. 

It’s a portrait of you reading.

The image is uncanny, the light hitting your side profile at a lovely angle, the book in your hands being carefully held, the excitement in your eyes even brighter than the photographs. 

Your brows furrow, wondering when Taehyung could have gotten such an image of you. But then you realize he doesn’t ‒ that he’s created the image through himself. 

That’s when your eyes have the instant to flicker down, breath hitching once you discover what he’s named all three pieces. 

My Muse. 

By Kim ‘V’ Taehyung. 

Everything stops, and all you’re left being able to do is to simply stare. 

“I’m assuming I can’t keep this a surprise anymore.” 

You whirl around at the speed of light, recognizing that deep tone from anywhere. 

Taehyung stands before you, a soft smile on his lips. 

“It’s incredible.” You whisper, “How did you…?” 

“I was working on it for a while.” He steps next to you, pointing to the first, “That one was made a few nights after I met you.” He points to the second, “That one was after we had spent time together.” He points to the last, “And that one I made last night, after finishing reading one of your books.” 

You stare at the portrait, observing that the book that you’re reading is indeed one of your own. 

He read the one where a man turns into a fish. 

“You read it?” Disbelief is laced in your voice, mixed with an odd sense of pride. 

“Of course, I’ve been wanting to read one of your books since I met you.” He explains, scratching the back of his head. “You saw my art, but I never got a chance to see yours.” 

You’re simply at a loss of words. You ‒ the person that had a remark for anything and was able to write countless words at bullet speed, had no more to say. 

Taehyung stares at the ground, chewing down on his bottom lip. 

“Has your novel writing been going okay?” He blurts, attempting to draw the attention away from his art. 

That snaps you out of it. “Uh yeah, I actually finished it.” 

“You did?” His head snaps up in astonishment, “Congrats.” 

You warmly smile, “Thanks.” 

After a moment of silence, he clears his throat, “Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry for not expressing it sooner.” He gestures to his art pieces, “I’m not the best with explaining my feelings, so it's easier for me to integrate it somehow into my‒” 

You cut him off mid-sentence, your lips meeting his. The surprise spreads over his face instantaneously, but it doesn’t take Taehyung long to reciprocate, moving his lips against yours. 

You separate from him and he blinks, as if caught up in a daze. 

“You never asked me what my book was about.” You breathe out. 

His brows furrow, “What was it about?” 

You grin mischievously, “It’s about a writer and a painter falling in love.” 

Taehyung seems to be at a loss for words now, gazing at you in pure surprise. 

“Really?” He asks, and you cheerfully nod. 

“Yup.” You find his hands, interlacing them with yours. 

“I’m really sorry.” Remorse enters your eyes. “Romance has truthfully, never really been my genre.” 

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Maybe we can see if that changes.” 

There’s a giant smile on your lips that he matches with his own. 

Tightening his warm hold on your hand, the pair of you walk away together from the exhibit.

You laugh to yourself. 

Maybe romance as a genre wasn’t so bad after all. 

[markerofthemidnight]

Danganronpa Settings And Why They Work

(and also an analysis on Blackened Skies and Project: Eden’s Garden’s settings because why not)

I’ve had a pretty long day today and I’m currently nursing a mental headache that’s slowly over time evolved into a physical headache. What better way that to try and help with that then to get my brain working in an analytical way?

So, Danganronpa settings are cool and interesting. There’s a lot of different ways you can take them, but- as we’ll soon see when we get into this analysis properly- most take the form of some kind of prestigious or fancy area that’s been twisted into a mockery of itself.

Another thing they have in common is that wether a school like in DR1 or a chain of islands like in DR2, Danganronpa settings are secluded places closed off from the outside world, naturally as the goal is to get out. If it would be possible to escape it in normal circumstances, it isn’t now.

So without further ado, let’s talk about them:

Hope’s Peak Academy - Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc

Hope’s Peak is the main standard that all DR settings meet, as it is the first in the franchise. As to be expected from such, it’s rather straightforward when you get down to it, but there are a few interesting details:

Hope’s Peak is a prestigious academy for Ultimates that’s been turned and twisted by Monokuma into a frightening, almost claustrophobic nightmare.

And boy, is its appearance good at nailing that frightening feeling down and making it feel even more oppressive.

The school- specifically around the ground and first floors- is filled with these bright colours all over the walls and floors, in a way that, in any other case, would probably feel bright and happy, but now taken to such an gaudy extreme that it circles back around to being uncomfortable. It’s really dark, too. The shadows feel unnaturally strong.

Why, exactly? Well, if you ask me, that’s because we know that schools aren’t supposed to look like this. Colouring in real schools, to my experience anyways, tends to be quite muted. There might be a splash of colour here and there, but nowhere near like the way it is in Hope’s Peak where you’ve got countless colours being thrown at you and none seem any more overpowering than the other.

The best part about this effect is that, as I specified earlier, it’s most noticeable in the first two floors: ie, Chapter 1. The chapter where finding a way out of the school, no matter the cost, was at its most important: the rest of the game seemed to be more focused on why it was happening, and as soon as that was resolved, the issue of them being stuck there was fixed almost immediately after.

Also, is it just me, or do the rooms in Hope’s Peak either feel incredibly claustrophobic or incredibly agoraphobic?

The 2D rooms feel claustrophobic, since they all open up with the little cardboard cutout props appearing into the room, either popping up by themselves or scuttling in from offscreen.

The 3D rooms feel agoraphobic, since they’re rooms that, unlike the rest, you can move around in, and often tend to be incredibly big compared to all the rest.

Either way, there’s a sense of dread following you wherever you go in Hope’s Peak, and that does a lot to add to the overall feel of the game.

Setting Ranking: 8/10

Jabberwock Island - Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair

Now, Jabberwock is where things get interesting. This actually might be the most interesting setting on the list, now that I think about it: first of all, it’s the only entry on the list to be set outside rather than inside.

Secondly, and less obviously, getting off the island wasn’t really that… important in DR2? The game, at least the first few chapters, was more focused on getting it back from Monokuma.

However, there is one thing of interest about Jabberwock Island that I feel like I need to bring up: the sheer uncanniness of it.

It’s not as obvious as it was it Hope’s Peak, for multiple reasons (the game’s on an island so it feels more open, the sun’s almost always shining so there aren’t any strong shadows, and while there are still a lot of different colours, they don’t contrast each other and instead come together in a beautiful tropical aesthetic) but that’s all balanced out by Hajime repeatedly stressing, in the prologue, that something is wrong with the island.

And I have to say, I can’t blame him. Jabberwock, specifically the first island, feels almost… too perfect. The sky feels too blue, the beach too yellow, the whole situation is just too good to be true.

Rocketpunch has just about everything you could ever want, even if it shouldn’t realistically be found in a supermarket, like night-vision goggles. The hotel has personal cottages for everyone- all separate buildings no less, not different rooms in the same building- and its own restaurant.

Just like Hope’s Peak, there’s a sort of uncanniness to Jabberwock. An uncanniness that is repeatedly stressed by Hajime, specifically near the beginning of the game.

Admittedly, that uncanniness sort of… dies down after the first half of Chapter 1. I feel like SDR2 probably should have leaned harder into it, but I realise why it didn’t.

The uncanniness is replaced with a more desolate feeling in the 3rd and 5th islands, not to mention… you know what? This deserves its own section.

The Funhouse

Admittedly, there are times in the game where you come to appreciate the fun island aesthetic. The soundtrack, specifically Beautiful Ruin, really nails that feeling: it reminds you that, no matter what Monokuma and his killing game leads you to think, you were originally supposed to enjoy the school trip.

So naturally, the Funhouse segment says to you, “Hey, you know that fun feeling you’ve been appreciating while you can this whole game? Let me hold that for a second,” rips it straight out of your hands before you can even answer, and throws it out of the window for the rest of the chapter.

The Funhouse is everything I described earlier about Hope’s Peak but amplified to 11. The bright, eye-burning colours are back with a vengeance: but whereas Hope’s Peak at least had different sets of eye-burning colours, here, it’s just the same two dumbass patterns on bright lime green and pink wherever you go.

Also, since the Funhouse seems to consist mainly of 3D segments, you’d think it leans harder into Hope’s Peak’s agoraphobia, right? No, actually, it manages to flip that concept on its head: somehow, the 2D rooms seem too big and the 3D ones seem too small.

The fact that the entire cast are slowly starving whilst having to look at images of strawberries and grapes wherever they go just add to that feeling.

Setting Ranking: 7.5/10 (The Funhouse: 4/5)

The Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles - Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony

Now, I’m probably gonna say this a lot in this analysis, but the Ultimate Academy is… interesting, because it doesn’t really feel like the first two.

It doesn’t have the same uncanny vibe that Jabberwock and Hope’s Peak have: rather, it feels more desolate. The sort of dreary aesthetic it has, and the overgrowth everywhere, adds to that feeling. That your life ends there.

But then, there’s the more futuristic aspects of it. The technology in the school feels high-end, like it takes place a few decades in the future.

Sure, it can be written off as the futuristic parts being Monokuma’s renovations and that the school itself is ancient… but you can never really tell.

And then there’s the Ultimate labs. I don’t know about you, but they’re probably my favourite part of the setting: they’re just so interesting!

We never got anything close to a talent lab in any of the other games… and for good reason, because I couldn’t see it working in any of the other ones.

I think we can all agree on this: if there wasn’t a Killing Game going on, and the place was cleaned up a little, the Ultimate Academy would be a really good place to stay, and the talent labs are part of the reason why this is, wouldn’t you agree?

The characters certainly seem to agree. The only ones who seemed to outright dislike their labs were Ryoma and Maki, who never liked their talents themselves to begin with.

All of the above come together to create a sort of… conflicting feeling about the Academy. Do you like it, or do you not? Is it futuristic, or is it from the past?

Which, I’d say, is quite fitting for a game about the relationship between truth and lies. It makes you question the reality around you…

And then there’s the End Wall. I… honestly don’t have much to say about it. It’s certainly interesting, but probably the most I could add to how it makes one feel is that really pins down the feeling of being trapped, and its sheer size makes you feel a part of something bigger than yourself.

Setting Ranking: 6.5/10

The Despair of the Seas - Blackened Skies (AO3)

(I’m including this because I think it’s a really good an interesting setting. If any of you would like to read it:)

The Despair of the Seas is much like the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles in that it’s unlike anything else we’ve seen in the list so far… but mainly because it’s actually a blend of the previous three, in its own ways.

The logic behind making it a cruise ship didn’t make much sense to me until starting this analysis, but now I start to realise: Blackened Skies takes characters from all three of the games, and what do you get when you take two prestigious schools and merge them with a tropical island? A cruise ship, obviously.

The Despair of the Seas, as described in the fic, is a very large ship. And, additionally, a ship with a very nonsensical layout. Now, it’s quite difficult to tell how this would make the player feel if it was a game, because it’s not, but… if I had to guess, I assume it would be similar to the feeling of uncanniness DR2 had.

The inconsistency of the ship, and the strange way it seems to be laid out, would make you feel almost… detached from it. Whereas Jabberwock Island felt simply odd in a way that was difficult to keep your mind off of, the Despair of the Seas would feel outright liminal.

Much like, say… purgatory.

It’s also interesting how the outside of the ship is described as just being a dreary ocean painted by grey clouds (or should I say, BLACKENED SKIES?!) It adds to the uncanniness the ship has, and amplifies the feeling of there being no escape.

And not to mention, when you start to think about it… it also highlights the themes of guilt and sin that the story has.

Rough seas are perfectly normal. Unpleasant, but common. And yet, despite your desperation to escape the ship, when you look out the window, suddenly you decide you want to stay?

Naturally, you would. Of course you would. And yet this feeling doesn’t do anything but make you feel worse about yourself.

It’s like you want to stay there, almost. The Despair of the Seas is an incredibly fancy ship, and not even in a gaudy or tasteless way: again, if they weren’t stuck there, the cast might actually want to stay.

But what I have to stress is that it’s like that on purpose. In just Chapter 3 of the story, it’s stressed that the protagonist feels as if the fanciful nature of the ship is Monokuma’s way of rewarding them all for killing.

So it makes you feel… tainted, almost. Like you’re in on the joke. Like you’ve been consumed by pride and greed, and the only reason why you want to leave is your weariness of all the other selfish murderers around you.

Of course, that’s just my interpretation of it. Anyways, the Despair of the Seas is cool and great and go read Blackened Skies if you haven’t already!

Setting Ranking: 9/10

Eden’s Garden Academy - Project: Eden’s Garden

Eden’s Garden Academy is… I dunno, it feels very down to earth in comparison to all the rest.

Of course, I can only go off of what little we’ve seen of the academy in the prologue, but… the best I can describe it is like a cross between the uncanniness of Hope’s Peak and the dreariness of the Ultimate Academy.

Hope’s Peak managed to feel both claustrophobic and agoraphobic depending on the area. Somehow, Eden’s Garden Academy manages to feel like both no matter where you are.

As soon as you wake up in the academy, it feels desolate. Like it’s been abandoned for a long time, and only recently renovated for the sake of the Killing Games: much like the Ultimate Academy except less obvious.

The entire school has a haunting feeling not made much better from the portraits scattered all over the walls. It feels almost like a horror game in that regard, like something’s going to jump out at you.

Another thing that adds to that feeling is how we’ve never actually seen the outside. We’ve been tricked into thinking we were outside, but we’ve never even encountered a window.

What results from that is a feeling of separation from the outside. You could be anywhere right now, and you have no way of figuring out where.

It also really adds to the feeling of being trapped. If the recent teaser is anything to go by, there’s also a fake exit somewhere in the new area, which if anything adds onto that feeling by a long shot.

I don’t really have much else to say since we’ve only seen so little of the academy so far, so… yeah.

Setting Ranking: 6.5/10 (but only because I haven’t seen enough of it)

Thanks for reading!

[charmwasjess]

Does Dooku have a first name, or did in Legends? The Rupalp’s Podrace podcast has this running joke where they say it’s Craig. So I sometimes tag posts “Craig Dooku”.

How much does Legends Dooku seep into your fics?

Oh, fun question! I'd seen that tag and wondered. That's great. :D

No first name in Legends - which lead to the famous fanon "Yan Dooku" which started popping up in fics when the films were coming out. In current canon, I think Dooku is supposed to be his first name, and "House Serenno" is his family name, with the planet (re?)named for his family after they threw the ancient Sith out back in the day. So he'd be Dooku of House Serenno, or Dooku Serenno, which I actually love. Secret heir vibes with him just going by his first name when his last name would immediately give away his connection to a family that hated him and threw him out.

As for Legends Dooku and my fics - I write Sith-Era Dooku strongly influenced by Legends. His portrayal in Yoda: Dark Rendezvous is likely why I'm a Dooku fan: I like the mix of wry elegance, deadliness, and a pit of needy instability. It's a heady brew.

By contrast, Legends Jedi Dooku gave me a tummy ache. Current Canon Jedi-Era Dooku is actually WHY I started writing fic again after a billion years away. I feel like it gave me a lot of permission to write Jedi Dooku the way I'd always wanted to, working backward from how he ends up, instead of this cardboard cutout evil guy with a couple Dracula references thrown in that we see in Legends. I never understood why the Council, people who he didn't even get along with, would vouch for him so hard in AotC if he was this cold, unpleasant caricature of a person.

I'm not saying the current canon doesn't have any flaws, but they let Jedi Dooku be brave, funny, emotional (fucking SO EMOTIONAL), a great teacher, parental, warm, awkward, embarrassing, and genuine. He has moments of incredible valor and ability; he also makes mistakes and sometimes just totally wipes out with them. He's stern and reserved, but he also surrounds himself with loving, funny extroverts.

Anyway, as a person who mainly writes fic with Dooku in that Jedi era, it was great characterization to me and I draw on it heavily. That's a guy I want to take on an adventure, you know?

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

It is well below freezing and snowing where I am, so I wanted to remind y'all on what to do if you lose heat either from the power or gas lines going out.

1) Cover your windows!! The best insulation would be to tape cardboard or styrofoam around the edges and glass of the windows. If you don't have either of those, nail blankets or sheets over them works as well, but do not sacrifice your blankets for sleep to cover the window.

2) Get yourself, your kids, your family members, your pets, whoever all into one room, preferably a room with no or few windows and no or few exterior walls. Living rooms work for this, so do bathrooms, even bedrooms if they don't have a bunch of windows and only one exterior wall. Huddling for warmth is your best bet for staying comfortable and alive during a deep freeze. Get blankets, sheets, sleeping bags, whatever, and try to spend most of your time in that one area.

3) If you go out to buy food to prepare for a storm or snow in, get food that doesn't require any amount of heat prep. Bread and peanut butter, granola bars, canned fruit, chip, jerky, anything you can eat straight out of the container without needing to heat it.

4) If you need to go out on the road during this time, drive slowly, carefully, and remember to pump the brakes, not slam them. If at any point you're driving and see a road and think "I can't drive that" do the smart thing and turn around or find a different route.

5) Stay dry. Wet layers must come off as soon as you're somewhere warm and be dried completely before you wear them again. Your outermost layer must also be waterproof, even if it's just a rain poncho thrown over you. Snow melts into water and water in freezing temps becomes ice and you don't want to be the temperature of ice.

Hopefully this helps, especially for people in areas that don't experience a lot of snow. Feel free to add more tips I may have missed!

[gamequeenanya]

Phone Guy Month

Day 30: "You know too much"

Summary: Phone Guy's bosses have a little chat with him.

…

William and Henry sat at the table with Scott. Seeing the man sweat gave William a sweet satisfaction.

"Scott…" Henry started, biting his tongue and not quite knowing how to say it. William shook his head. Henry was too soft sometimes. He put a hand up to show him he was going to take over.

"Scott… I know you've played your cards right, but the fact remains that you know too much."

He faltered.

"I… I… "

From the drinks on the table to the thrown aside cardboard box, to the baseball cap on all of their heads, Scott looked somewhere to find a reasonable answer to save himself, but none came.

"We're going to have to stop inviting you to our game nights."

"WHAT?!" Scott looked shocked, struck speechless.

Henry put a hand on William's shoulder.

"Surely there's a better way."

William threw his hands in the air.

"I don't know how he keeps doing it, beating us in Trivial Pursuit every time. He's played this before! So much he must have memorized the cards!"

Scott sighed.

"I didn't cheat. I-I just know a lot of trivia…"

"And that's the problem!" William huffed. "How do you know so much, but you couldn't even pass your knot tying class in Boy Scouts?!"

Blushing, Scott looked back with a glare. "Hey, leave that out of this. I was only a kid!"

…

The next week on game night, there were three people at the table, Michael taking Scott's old place.

"By the way, Michael," William said. "How good are you at trivia?"

He shrugged. "Average, I guess? I don't know."

William grinned. "Perfect! Haha, then let's see how this goes."

(The End)

[reel-fear]

You guys just can’t pick a side can you?

This is one of the most idiotic asks I've been sent and someone once told me if a character is designed to appeal to children that character themselves must be a child. However I will still try to respond to explain why this is not the same situation in a calm manner.

The fnaf novels tied into the games in a way where in my opinion you don't need them to understand the lore, The mimic is a pretty simple concept a robot that copies voices the only thing you miss out on with the books is the backstory which I don't think is super vital but could also be explored in a future game so I don't mind the books being canon. Batim back when DCTL had first come out only revealed a major character's identity in that book. That is bad and I don't agree with it. But I am also against retconning the books entirely since it means said character now has No identity. I am literally not the kind of person this is meant to address...

HOWEVER

The bendy books are beloved, they have great stories, characters and add fun things to Bendy's lore that doesn't exist without them. I personally believe they're not only great by video game novel standards but great by general horror novel standards as well.

Most important though, is that Bendy is a "character-focused" series, but despite this the games lack any kind of interesting characterization, most of the cast don't have established relationships and the ones that do are often relationships that are minor and unimportant. The cast ranges from basically cardboard cut outs who had interesting ideas that were not executed well to basically having nothing interesting about them. See how Henry the main protagonist of the first game BATIM does not have much of a personality nor reacts to much through out the game, thus making it hard to really feel for what he is going through not to mention how he doesn't seem to have been friends with anyone he's encountered.

The books added substance to characters who needed it. They gave Joey a compelling backstory, motivation and a peak into how his mind worked via Illusion Of Living which filled in holes and gaps in Joey's story that the games left wide open despite the fact he's a main villain and very important. His character is vital to BATDR & BATIM, as it is his actions that literally caused all of this besides Henry who could arguably also be said to have started this when he left. The games don't tell us much about either of them. Not to mention unlike Scott who I believe never fully stated whether or not the books were canon, the bendy devs DID say the books were canon until recently which is confusing and frustrating for theorists who kept up with them to be able to know the lore and now feel cheated.

But now without the books Bendy has even more holes in its story, we now don't know who Boris is, why Thomas was suddenly being ominous and evil in BATDR [In The Lost Ones he was shown to be morally grey however since those aren't canon anymore, it seems Thomas just suddenly turned evil bc he felt like it], not to mention Joey now lacks a backstory and everything a lot of fans loved about the way he was written in the books has been thrown away. A lot of relationships, interesting traits and cool ideas about Bendy's narrative and its characters are now suddenly gone leaving us with once again the cardboard cutouts that the games claim are well-written characters. Kress is just a way better writer than the Bendy devs so to see her work tossed aside when she had been told it was canon to this franchise she liked feels offensive and hurtful.

This was only made worse by the fact this news only truly came out in response to multiple instances of whitewashing characters who were previously thought to be people of color in the graphic novel for Dreams Come To Life which itself also was just very poorly drawn, was basically just a worse version of the book it was adapting and had coloring mistakes that made it to the final print.

Meanwhile Fnaf is not a character-focused narrative, at least not to the degree Bendy is. For a while we didn't know who the protagonist of the games was and it also didn't matter. Fnaf's story was fairly simple and more focused on the events that caused the animatronics to attack you as opposed to say how the nightguard was feeling about all this. Thusly Fnaf's books which all told their own stories [most of which were received with pretty mixed reviews might I add] were also kinda wild and strange in the lore they added? Like robot children that also grew up and thought they were human and a lot of stories that didn't feel particularly related to FNAF? More like generic horror stories that sometimes had animatronics instead of any other generic monster.

It was completely natural for people to assume the fnaf books weren't canon, for a while it just didn't seem likely. They also weren't supplying key story information since the games themselves explained their stories well enough for everyone to at least have an idea of what was happening. Fnaf just isn't a character-focused narrative [or at least until Security Breach it really wasn't] the most important thing about its characters was their roles. William Afton as a person isn't super important for you to understand you just need to know that 1. He's the killer 2. He's the father of the main protagonist and 3. He died and is now coming to get you. Run. All of his children are the same, in fact a lot of them don't have names bc their names aren't super important their roles are. The crying child, the dead kids, you don't need to know their whole backstories for the story to work, it's a simple eerie and well written horror story about children dying and becoming vengeful ghosts.

Fnaf then released Security Breach which already made a lot of people frustrated and upset. Not only had it been delayed a lot but the story was confusing and not well written, the game was buggy and nearly unplayable in spots. Etc, etc, the fandom was already rather upset.

Then the dlc came out and while it was WAY better and honestly it's one of my favorite mascot horror games EVER, a lot of people had already long before it came out, placed their bets on whether or not the mimic would show up and therefore make the books canon. A lot of people at that point felt frustrated with how vague and hard to deconstruct the lore already Was so when it turned out the books [or at least the ones with Mimic in them] were canon it was frustrating and I understand why. The books are kinda bloated and have a lot of hit or miss stories so now everyone is wondering which stories are canon and which aren't which is frustrating when you just want to enjoy a story in a game you bought without having to watch an hour long theory video or read the wiki.

Honestly the biggest thing is this ask is very passive aggressive to me for a belief I don't even hold. I'm not super upset the fnaf books are canon, I'm very disinterested in fnaf due to scott cawthon's... Actions but personally I'm of the opinion that as long as a future game explains the mimic's backstory and what it is, then it's fine the books are canon.

Besides fnaf recently made a game literally out of one of the books people liked and it received great reviews [I loved it]. The books are not the problem people had it was the confusing lore. You're literally making up people to get mad at, most of the people who were upset at the fnaf books being canon didn't mind the bendy books not being canon and the opposite was true for others as well. Not to mention you're completely disregarding [in both cases] Why people are mad. It was far more complicated than just books not being canon it was what was In those books.

To imply I'm being hypocritical when you're comparing two game devs who I both dislike and don't support in their actions is very insulting. You just assumed I held this position cause I guess you thought I was stupid? Or you thought that because I don't like the bendy team I must be hypocritical and like fnaf? Either way you literally just assumed something about my beliefs then came to my inbox to mock me for it. I hope you realize how immature and stupid you look right now.

And for the record that goes for all the fnaf fans who mocked or disregarded people being upset about the bendy books not being canon anymore too. If they had simply listened to Why people were upset they would realize it was way more than just people being mad at a retcon.

Anyways of course you're a h*lluva boss fan, that makes perfect sense with how rude you are and the fact you use "antis" unironically. The way you fought so hard to pretend like the poppy playtime devs are the worst people in the world before I had to correct you on all of your info having no evidence, meanwhile you support someone who has been well known for being an abuser, hurting their workers and even transphobic says everything. So long as someone made something you like they can do no wrong right? Well heres some stuff abt Vivzieshit you might wanna look at.

I'm gonna go enjoy thanksgiving with my family now. I hope you learned something about sending weird passive aggressive stuff to strangers about shit they don't think or have ever said. Lmao

[harukamitsuki]

Hello, I’m the anon that apologized for implying that Keith was “spoiled”

I wanted to come back and talk to you because I wanted to discuss some points!

I made my Keith statements without really explaining what I meant and I wanted to try again.

I don’t want Lance to be the black paladin and I just need to state that now. However, I also didn’t want Keith to reside as the permanent black paladin.

I know that his color palate and clothing have black in them but shiro is also all black. In my opinion I would’ve preferred Keith to be the substitute black paladin.

Ryou (the clone) should’ve never been able to pilot the black lion because he’s just a copy of shiros face not him. Making Keith stay within the team and allura going to red (because I really don’t know how they thought allura in blue was a good idea, love her but what?)

(I want Keith to stay with the team and not go to the blades as I would prefer the paladins sticking together)

(Also because the plot line for the altean colony is ridiculous)

I would’ve loved to see ryou find out he’s a clone along with the paladins and not just kill him off. I think it would’ve also brought some realization into Keith about shiro and such.

The way I think of the paladins and their relationship to the lions is that the lions physically created the paladins.

The reason why it took 10,000 years is because earth doesn’t have quintestance, so the lions had to basically build their paladins from the ground up by creating generations of humans with it.

Because earth doesn’t have it, it takes a long time until there’s finally enough for the paladins now!

Which is why I don’t think Keith should continue to be the black paladin. Because he belongs with red just as Lance in blue, pidge in green, hunk in yellow, and shiro in black.

and because Shiro never gets to go back to being the black paladin his character gets reduced to cardboard.

which is the reasoning for my initial comments that I couldn’t describe clearly.

I didn’t mean to come off as a black paladin Lance supporter or that Lance was the best option. Because he isn’t.

There are things with lances character that I feel as though could’ve been worked so much better. (I saw a previous post of yours discuss lances having altean markings and your so correct, honestly they feel like fan service since the fandom goes nuts with altean Lance and honestly I can’t understand why)

I’m far more a shiro fan. In all honesty he has done a lot for me. I don’t like that he was just meant to be thrown away.

I mean the writers created an entirely new character for crying out loud!! Shiro didn’t exist in the other versions. Technically he is sven but sven was always the blue paladin.

Shiro has obvious PTSD and has a genetic disease that needs his arm forcefully removed from him. He fights so hard for his lion and his teammates.

My feelings on Keith are in fact very biased but it feels like a lot of Keith’s character completely erases all of shiros.

With ryou and the paladins finding out that shiro is in the black lion i would’ve loved to see them search desperately to find where the clones were made to see if they could bring Shiro back.

My thoughts are a little all over the place I apologize for that.

Hello again!

This is a bit awkward because I basically agree with almost everything here so there's not much for me to dissect haha.

If anyone's been reading my past, PAST, posts, you'll have probably seen my post as to why Lance never should have went to Red, and why it should have been Allura. I can understand why Allura is Blue and Lance is Red in the ORIGINAL series, but this is a rewrite where the characters are basically completely different.

Which also means that, no, I will not be using the original series to back-up my belief that Keith is a great Black Paladin.

Like I said, I basically agree with everything you wrote, except that I didn't personally care for Ryou. I felt sorry for him and was kinda shocked when they just used his body for Shiro's soul, but I didn't care about him.

I do think it would have been interesting to see Ryou be a little stinker and try to manipulate everyone, due to him being a sleeper agent. Like, in canon, when Ryou apologised to Keith, he says "I'm sorry I had to step in there" instead of "for stepping in there". He's still putting the blame on Keith. He says sorry without truly saying it, if you get what I mean.

Then, one day, he goes a little too far. Like, I dunno, he calls Lance useless or Hunk cowardly or something, and Keith immediately goes: wait. That's not right. Suddenly, Keith's a lot less willing to take Ryou's 'advice' to heart and things pile up until he realises Ryou is a clone.

I think that kind of story line is much more interesting that what we got. Of course, if you care about Ryou and are horrified at his death, there are others ways. Ryou slowly learning he's a clone and hating himself until the paladins make him realise that it's not his fault and he can choose to be his own person. Heck, he kind of already is.

Of course, another option is just to not kill Shiro off? Like, put him in a coma or reveal that Haggar yoinked him from Black with quintessence magic and he's been captive this whole time. Keith would still have to pilot Black but, because Shiro isn't a clone, when he gets back Black opens up immediately.

The thing is, Shiro and Keith's style of leadership is different. Very different, meaning that they're suited to lead different kinds of things, with varying efficiency. What I think would have been cool to see is them changing the roster (Shiro leads, Keith in Red/Keith leads, Allura in red) depending on the mission. Which can mean that, if you decide to keep season eight for some reason, Shiro or Keith can lead them into the final battle. Shiro leading them might make more sense.

I've heard a lot of people say that Shiro is boring and it's like– why do you think that? I kind of wanted to see more of his character arc, wanted to see Keith, Coran and Allura take care of him when he's too high strung. I wanted to see him be there, actually there, when Pidge saves Matt. I wanted to see him accept that he may have been hurt, but he is not broken.

I think that those people who think Shiro is boring just weren't watching the same show, or only remeber him from season 7-8 where he does basically nothing. Season 1-2 Shiro are great. He feels so human, scared of the world but pushing himself through for the sake of others and to not seem weak. He makes bad gun noises, immediately denies Coran trying to feed him like a baby with "no. Just– no.", displays some dark humour when he's alone with Keith and bleeding out. He's terrified of being seen as broken, because that's exactly what he thinks of himself.

So. Yeah.

Either make Ryou more interesting or don't kill Shiro off. It would still let Keith become his own Black Paladin, and it would let the group change members depending on the situation, which would make it less jarring if Allura was the one to pilot the Atlus, as was originally planned.

I can understand why you believe Keith's character erases Shiro's. Because, in all honesty, it kind of does. Of course, that is mostly DreamWorks' fault because they just can't give Shiro any sort of happiness? Like, Keith has also been hurt over and over again, but at least Keith has his mother.

Shiro was supposed to gain the ability to teleport. HE WAS REPLACED BY KOSMO - HE WAS REPLACED BY A DOG. Shiro didn't even get to end Sendak! Even if I adore Keith, I was so baffled when Keith made the finish blow, because that was Shiro's fight! Shiro has nobody to go home to, only returning to find that his ex-fiancé is dead, and it's just– I know that gay characters tend to suffer the most, but come on DreamWorks! Give him SOMETHING!

From my perspective, I've always noticed the difference between Keith and Shiro's leadership styles, and just in general. But DreamWorks is so allergic to giving any of them anything, so they wrote in the Broganes bond, tore it apart, then played a darts game to decide their traits after Shiro's death. It makes it especially worse when they decide to make Keith go through development off-screen, so he comes back when he's become more mature like Shiro, but it gets no explanation so it feels like he was just given more of Shiro's traits.

Alas, we get no explanation, so it is jarring. Which is another reason why making Ryou unable to pilot Black, or Shiro still being alive, would have been much better. Keith had a point about leaving, but Shiro, the real Shiro, never would have let him leave, and Keith wouldn't leave if Ryou couldn't pilot Black.

I would still make it so that Keith stayed with BoM just for the sake of meeting Krolia, but nothing else much.

So. Yeah.

I do agree with basically all of this, only I wouldn't have Keith be just a sub for Black. I think he and Shiro should have used it interchangeably, or at least provide an explanation for why the real Shiro, the one who bonded with Black the most, couldn't pilot her.

AND SCREW KOSMO– GIVE SHIRO HE TELEPORTATION BACK! GIVE HIM HIS RELEVANCE BACK!!

(Sorry if there's any mistakes, I just woke up haha)

(Also, Keith's colour scheme fits Black more than Shiro's did, mostly because of the accent colours that Keith had. Other than that, yeah. I agree.)