#thank you for still reading and for the support!!

[angelsndragons]

so my forever gm needed a break. given that this was my only in-person game and i wanted to retain that connection to my community, i volunteered to run the next campaign so she could take a break and just enjoy playing.

i decided to go with a module i knew, having been a pc in it a few years prior: storm king's thunder. i took her copy of the book and started reading.

and nearly threw it through a window in frustration.

for those of you who don't know, the core giant races in the book are very star trek hat-esque. they have Their Thing and that's it. almost all of the giant npcs are evil and out to destroy the world of smallfolk using their delegated hats. there was a shakespearean drama happening at certain points behind the scenes but nothing else in the book supported that level of complexity with the giants or with the scripted encounters in the book. okay so you're telling me a small goblin tribe has holed up in a cave system and when a bunch of villagers flee into said cave, they...take them all prisoner and go raid their village? after learning that the villagers were fleeing from a giant attack on said village? after learning that most of the guards are still in the village proper, defending the broken keep? really? nah, man, that's just not engaging with the goblins as a culture and people.

i think the worst offenders are the hill giants. they're given heinously low soft stats, are treated as nothing more than glutinous sacks of hit points, and they're the fucking butt of the joke. two hill giants can't navigate their way back to their home base after an attack (meaning that the players can't use said hill giants to scout and find the place either). they're tricked at every interval. the big hill giant plot is for the chief to eat literally any and all food her minions can bring her so that she'll grow to be the biggest giant in existence. yes, she too is treated like the butt of a joke for daring to think that that plan is good or viable. she's so fat (and the book goes into this over and over) that she can no longer walk and the wagon she's seated on is broken and hasn't been repaired. she is in fact so fat and so stupid that she forgets that she has a macguffin the party needs. oh and the book goes into great detail about how slovenly and disgusting her place is and then has the nerve throw in a "overbearing wife beats and bullies her husband" joke in there just to round out the misery. this whole ass culture of bad guys is treated like they are goddamn animals, not people.

needless to say i have chucked a great deal of this. the goblins are practical survivalists (we are small and easily squished, if we can't hide we go along until we can escape) and when ogres and giants moved in, they decided to follow orders to gather food right up until the party gives them a legitimate out. thanks to their intervention, this group of goblins are off the board as future enemies and will in fact be appearing as occasional help (one of my players decided they liked the goblins so much that they created a new character to be from that group).

the hill giants now have traditions surrounding food preparation and preservation that go back thousands of years and much of the small folk's current tech in that department is based off of hill giant innovations, which the party is learning about. their ancestors sleep in the hilly regions of the world, growing and growing together, their sometimes living bodies make up the very ground that the small folk walk on and find nourishment from. the hill giants, along with their stone and cloud brethren, are the only giants who remember that giants become one with the land. one amongst many slowly dying giant races and they choose to, well, not embrace it but find peace in it. they're still gullible and still view size as incredibly important but one's skill in the culinary arts can propel them to leadership. chief guh is a culinary visionary who perfected the art of preparing dragon meat and as giants and dragons are enemies beyond memory, that is quite the feat. will the party come to blows with her? i mean, maybe. but at least she and her people won't end up as 'dumb, slow, fat' person jokes.

framing is so important you guys. it's work but it is so worth it. i had my players spitting nails at the racist, isolationist elves whom the village the party was helping were counting on for survival. i had them tearing up as they decided to knowingly walk a group of orcs to their deaths at the hands of the racist, isolationist elves because it was the only way the elves would agree to supply the village through a brutal winter after the village lost everything. one elf, just one, was curious, if completely incorrect, about the outside world and mostly respectful to the pcs. one of the players is now penpals with him and has sent him a history of the sword coast he otherwise doesn't have access to because his people Do Not Care about the world beyond their borders. the campaign is richer for delving deeper into these cultures and people

Putting all tabletop players into a college level ethics class and forcing them to turn in a paper on moral philosophy before buying a new book

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Smau

A/N : hi~ its been a while my luvsss! Hope you enjoy hihi

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 18 | Next >

Y/N. 45mins ago

story replies

oscarpiastri Thank you dearest! Ily

Y/N. ily too! are you free to go to the hotel now?

oscarpiastri Not yet, baby. I still need to do post race interviews and I'm assuming that McLaren will bite my ass for the race.

Y/N. Ah damn, I wish i could commit arson in your motorhome rn hbcalfbsa

oscarpiastri Lmao I'll beat you to it.

Y/N. Should I wait for you?

oscarpiastri No need luv, I'll see you in our room

Y/N. Alright Osc~ call me if you need anything.

oscarpiastri Ik luv, keep safe alright?

L.norris Aren't you and your rebound fucking happy.

L.norris I know Max and Charles planned everything to screw my drive. I bet it was your idea.

L.norris I'll make oscar's stay in Mclaren hell than it already is.

Y/N. P1-P6 in turn one amazing drive and really?? a dummy account?? how desperate can you be? Ella not enough for you?

L.norris I swear Y/n.

skysports LIVE

mclaren

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

mclaren P2astri! monstrous effort by @oscarpiastri. P17 to P2 — that’s our driver!

oscarpiastri Lol. 

danielricciardo Yeah Lol

user1 Bruhs literally said Lol.

user2 Oh, hi danny ric. Can I ask you a question? what's up with Mclaren screwing their aussie drivers??

user1 Not Mclaren tryna play nice after the team orders. Cuz wth was that???

user3 Sweep it under the rug ahh move from them.

user2 I stand by what i’ve said about Oscar should try to fit in the team before but damn after what they tried to pull today?? Oscar’s reaction is valid

user3 Imagine admin posting this after Mclaren tried to f up Oscar’s race… the audacity of this team is amqzing.

user4 I could see Lando fuming right now 😮‍💨

user5 Mate of course he is! Did you hear the radio? Lando wanted to take both his and oscar's cars out 

user6 Lando has always been a sore loser. But today was smth else -- a crybaby in the radio damn.

user7 imagine if McLaren actually showed support towards Oscar? Blud might even be fighting Max on the WDC rn

user8 WE WILL NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID TO OSC IN QUALIFYING

user9 and we will NEVER forgive you Mclaren!!

user10 Oscar only continuous to amaze us as a driver. That level of focus on maturity on track was masterclass.

Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*

Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*

Notification : You missed a call from Zak Brown*

Notification : Zak Brown sent you a voice message*

-Pick up the damn phone Oscar! or I swear you'll be driving nothing next week!! -

Incoming call from Mark Webber

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

-Hello? What is it Mark?-

-Get your ass inside the motorhome. NOW-

-Calm down, I'm on my way. I just finished my bloody interviews-

-Heads up, everyone is fuming. You made them look like clowns today Osc... I have no idea what consequences they've planned for you-

-Whatever, i'm sick and tired of them-

-You don't get it Osc... this is serious. RedBull and Ferrari contacted me and they've said Zak is pulling some strings to keep you inside McLaren. They might withdraw their offer-

-shit, what???-

-Exactly, so get your ass here NOW. -

call has been disconnected

Formula1 news

MCLAREN DRIVER FEUD! The arguments between the 2 McLaren drivers have turned physical! 

read more… 

Not long after the race and interviews, it was said that a fight had started inside the McLaren Motorhome. 

Sources had stated that Lando Norris had confronted Oscar Piastri for not following team orders given previously. Both drivers seemed to be talking till it started to escalate when Oscar tried to leave. 

Physicalities had started when Lando had struck the Australian in the face— initiating Oscar to fight back. The fight had been stopped with Lando Norris being escorted with a broken and bleeding nose and Oscar with a bruised cheek. 

oscarpiastri 3 mins

story replies

danielricciardo Mate! how did you get that?! 

oscarpiastri Lando was a sore loser and punched me after interviews 

danielricciardo Damn, tell me he’s got it worse?

oscarpiastri yeah, I broke his nose. danielricciardo Nice. does Y/N know? 

oscarpiastri not yet. 

danielricciardo oh she’s not gonna like that

oscarpiastri I mean i didnt start it

logansargeant WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?

oscarpiastri Calm down, Logan its just a bruise. 

logansargeant so the rumors where real? you and lando got into a fight? 

oscarpiastri blud couldn’t accept that I won. 

logansargeant Cool. But i’m sure Mclaren isnt happy with this.

oscarpiastri is that even a surprise 

logansargeant Hey, they might fire you and I could have your seat then 

oscarpiastri Yeahhh screw you. You already signed the contract with Indycar 

logansargeant heck yeah I did! 

charles_leclerc Oi I let you out my sight for a few hours and this happens??

oscarpiastri you know you're playing this father thing a lil too real.

charles_leclerc Ik, deal with it! Anyways so the fight was true

oscarpiastri How did you know?

charles_leclerc carlos was on call with Lando and I overheard. You hit Lando out of no where?

oscarpiastri WHAT? NO. He punched me first. Where did you get that?

charles_leclerc Carlos told me that Lando said that to him… that you were the one who punched him in the nose. 

oscarpiastri wtf? Nah… he’s twisting the story again. Classic 

charles_leclerc I knew it!

*Hilton Hotel

-Y/N? luv are you here?-

-Yeah, i’m on the bed-

-Did you watch the race?-

-I did! P2 my luv congratu— what the fuck happened to your cheek?!- 

-Lando punched me after the interview. Nothing big-

-Nothing big?! are you kidding me? Oscar half your face is swollen! -

-And his nose is broken, whats the big deal?! I’m fine aren’t I?-

-You broke Lando’s nose?!  Oscar what the hell! You hit him back?! - 

-Of course I did! What?! should i just let him have at me? What the fuck is that question Y/N??- 

-Oscar! you actually fought physically. This is different! this is not online or on the tracks! you can’t just start throwing fists like cavemen!-

-Different how?! Y/N, Lando struck first and I hit back. I’m was defending myself! Why am I even explaining this to you?! Aren’t you on my side?! -

-Of course I am Osc! I am always on your side!-

-Then show it! Y/N! because what it looks to me is that you think is that I should’ve just let him beat me over! - 

-Of course not! but you know that everyone will use this against you.-

-So?-

-So?? what do you mean so?! You could be in trouble with the FIA. Red Bull and Ferrari might withdraw their offer for you if this blows up! Oscar your career is already hanging on by a thread! How could you let them hold more things against you? -

-You think I dont know that?! HUH, Y/N?! Not a fucking day goes by without me thinking whether if I’ll have my job the next day! So don’t fucking preach to me what I should be thinking or be feeling! You know that everything about this started with you right?? because I chose to fight for our relationship?? -

-Oscar, I know that! Don’t you think I don’t feel guilty or hurt seeing you suffer because of me? because of us?! I’ve been dealing with some shit too! and do you see me throwing fists around?!!-

-And now it’s all about you. You know what Y/N? Yeah… you don’t fight No. You just wait for them to cheat on you before you see the years of abuse. Well tough luck Y/N, i’m not like you! I don’t cower away when its Lando. - 

-WOW! just fucking wow, Oscar!! how nice to pull that shit up. You fucking know how I feel about what Lando did to me!-

-You know what?! I can’t do this right now. I need air. FUCK!-

Notification : you received a message from **** *** ***

*Hello ms. Y/N, this is Emery James, McLaren's Lawyer. I am reaching out on behalf of McLaren to offer you a proposition that will benefit all . Your presence is requested urgently. please contact us at your earliest discretion. Thank you*

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

extra A/N: Only a few more chapters for this series my luvs! I'm so glad yet sad that this smau is coming to an end huhu

alsooooo recently i've been obsessing over football! any Madridistas here hihi? Imma shamelessly plug my playlist for Jude here~ enjoy hskhdbvks

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[chxnsgirl]

황현진 & 한지성 ─── pas de trois

♡ pairing ៸៸ ballet dancer!hyunjin x ballet dancer!jisung x afab!reader ៸៸ genre ៸៸ love triangle, ballet academy au ៸៸ cw ៸៸ none really. just jisung pining and hyunjin being a womanizer. ♡ synopsis ៸៸ in the world of ballet, every step is choreographed��but love never follows the script. what happens when you get accepted into the ballet academy of your dreams? a/n ๑ hi hi i decided to make this multiple parts because it's long as FUCK and i couldn't make you guys read over 10k words per part LMAO. ive been working on this for about two weeks and im STILL writing this story. comment below if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series, there will be smut in the next part ;3 ♡ masterlist

it was a day filled with nerves and anticipation.

today marked your first day at lumière ballet company—the most prestigious and renowned company in the country. you, along with fourteen other dancers, had earned a coveted spot to train, undergo rigorous evaluations, and prove your potential for a place in the company.

getting accepted into lumière ballet company had been your dream for as long as you could remember. now, here you were—far from home, chasing that dream with everything you had, determined to turn it into reality.

the only thing that unsettled you was the distance. your parents had always been supportive, but they hadn’t been thrilled about you leaving. they feared for you—not because they doubted your talent, but because they worried about the heartbreak if things didn’t go as planned. they didn’t want to see your dreams shatter before you even had the chance to live them.

you pushed those thoughts aside. after all, here you were—standing in front of the very place you had dreamed of since childhood.

as you struggled with your bags, pulling them out of the taxi, you heard a voice behind you.

“need some help with those?”

assuming it was just some random person, you rolled your eyes, irritation creeping into your tone. “no.” you tugged at your largest bag and turned around, ready to brush off whoever it was.

but your heart skipped a beat when you saw who was standing there. hwang hyunjin, the star dancer of the company. famous for his flawless technique and striking good looks, he stood before you with platinum blonde buzzed hair, plump lips, piercing dark eyes, and glowing, honey-toned skin.

you fumbled for words, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. “oh, um…” you couldn’t help but take him in, a little starstruck that he was actually standing there, talking to you.

“‘no?’” he smiled, his eyes scanning you briefly.

“i mean… no, thank you.” you hugged your bag to your chest, politely declining his offer. he nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a step back.

“okay,” he said simply before turning and heading toward the company entrance.

you watched him walk away, a dazed, goofy smile spreading across your face.

you were definitely starstruck. you had seen hyunjin on tv and in performances before. he was undeniably talented, and adored by so many. it took you by surprise that he had even spoken to you, let alone offered to help carry your bags to your dorm.

the arrival at your dorm was quick and seamless, and you were relieved to find that your roommates were nice. yeji had been at the company for a while—she practically grew up there, and her seniority made you a little nervous. the other girl, celeste, was beautiful and kind, though you could tell she had a sharp tongue that might get her into trouble.

as you were walking around the dorms, you ran into yeji’s friend, minho. the two exchanged a friendly hug before she introduced you both.

“this is minho, and minho, these are my roommates—y/n and celeste,” yeji said, gesturing to you both.

minho gave a casual wave, leaning on yeji’s shoulder. “nice to meet you. you two new?” his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

“yep, we are. that obvious?” you chuckled shyly. he laughed, shaking his head.

“maybe just a little. what are you guys up to, walking around the dorms?”

“i was just showing them around,” yeji explained.

“i see. want to play stakeout with me and felix? we’re keeping an eye out for our third roommate. supposedly, he’s coming from across the country,” minho said, nodding toward his dorm.

yeji looked to you and celeste for approval, waiting for your responses before agreeing.

“sure, we’ll hang for a little,” yeji smiled.

you spent the afternoon lounging around, getting to know minho and felix. the conversation flowed easily, filled with lighthearted jokes and stories. you learned that minho had been at the company for about four years—a fact that surprised you, given how effortlessly he carried himself. felix, on the other hand, was just as new as you and celeste, which brought you a sense of comfort. it was nice knowing you weren’t the only one still finding your footing.

the five of you were sprawled across minho and felix’s beds, laughing and sharing stories, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

in walked a stunningly handsome guy with clear, glowing skin and tousled dark brown hair that framed his sharp jawline. his cheeks had the slightest hint of roundness, giving him a boyish charm, but it was his eyes that truly struck you—warm, expressive, and impossibly friendly. he took in the unfamiliar faces before him, offering a small, hesitant smile as he waved.

“uh… am i in the right room?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and tugging out his dorm papers.

“you’re jisung?” minho spoke up, looking him over. you could’ve sworn there was a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“yeah, jisung.” he smiled warmly before setting his bags down next to the empty bed in the corner.

for a moment, minho didn’t respond, as if he had momentarily lost the ability to speak.

“um, i’m felix,” felix stepped in, standing up to shake jisung’s hand. “nice to meet you. that’s minho.” he motioned vaguely toward minho, who managed a small wave.

“nice to meet you too,” jisung replied with a grin, shrugging his duffel bag off his shoulder.

yeji stood up next, introducing herself, and celeste followed. finally, you extended your hand. “i’m y/n,” you said, offering a friendly smile.

jisung’s eyes flickered toward yours, his gaze lingering just a second longer than expected before his lips curled into a soft smile. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” you hesitated before adding, “minho mentioned you’re coming from across the country?”

“yeah,” jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i flew in from la. my girlfriend dumped me for leaving her there.” his expression faltered slightly, the disappointment evident in his tone.

from the corner of your eye, you noticed minho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, subtly relaxing against the bed once more.

felix let out a low whistle. “oof, rough. long-distance is tough, huh?”

jisung shrugged, forcing a small smile. “guess she didn’t think it was worth it. but, honestly, i can’t blame her. i left pretty suddenly when i got accepted here.”

yeji tilted her head. “how did you hear about lumière? i mean, it’s the top ballet company in the country, but la has some incredible programs too.”

jisung sat down on his bed, leaning back on his hands. “i’ve known about lumière since i was a kid. my old instructor used to talk about it all the time—said it was the kind of place that could turn a good dancer into a great one. so, when i saw the audition announcement, i figured i had to at least try.” he glanced around the room. “still can’t believe i actually made it.”

you nodded in understanding. “i know the feeling. this place always felt like an impossible dream, and now we’re actually here.”

minho, finally finding his voice again, smirked. “impossible dream or not, don’t think they’re going to go easy on you. lumière’s training program is brutal. if you survive it, you’ve got a shot at a contract, but only a few of us will actually get hired.”

jisung raised an eyebrow. “only a few?”

yeji sighed, crossing her arms. “yeah. it’s tough. there are fifteen of us in the program, but in the end, they only offer jobs to about five or six. maybe less, depending on the company’s needs.”

celeste groaned, flopping onto felix’s bed. “ugh, way to kill the excitement. let us enjoy the moment before we start panicking.”

felix laughed. “she’s right. we just got here, let’s not stress yet.”

jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “nah, i’d rather know what i’m up against. so, any advice? what’s the secret to surviving lumière?”

minho exchanged a knowing look with yeji before shrugging. “work hard, don’t mess around, and for the love of everything, don’t get on the instructors’ bad side.”

felix raised a playful brow. “sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

minho smirked. “let’s just say… they don’t forget easily.”

you laughed along with the group, but deep down, you felt the weight of their words. this wasn’t just a school—it was a proving ground. and if you wanted to stay, you’d have to give it everything you had.

the next morning, your alarm blared before the sun had fully risen, jolting you awake. a mix of nerves and excitement swirled in your stomach as you hurried to get ready, slipping into your leotard and tights before pulling your hair into a neat bun. this was it—your first official day at lumière ballet company.

by the time you arrived at the studio, the air was buzzing with hushed conversations and the occasional nervous laugh. the room was vast, lined with mirrors and ballet barres, the polished floors gleaming under the bright lights. the other dancers were already stretching, their movements graceful even in casual warm-ups. 

you spotted celeste and jisung near the back, exchanging a few words before he playfully nudged her, making her roll her eyes. yeji and minho were at the front, both exuding an effortless confidence that only came with experience.

you found a spot near the middle, smoothing out your leotard as you took a deep breath. just as you were about to start warming up, the studio doors swung open. the room instantly fell silent.

a group of instructors filed in, their sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. among them, a tall, distinguished man with graying hair stepped forward. his presence alone commanded respect, and you immediately recognized him—emile laurent, the head of lumière.

but he wasn’t the only notable figure in the room. behind the instructors, a small group of dancers followed, each one standing with an air of effortless poise. among them, your gaze caught on a familiar figure—hyunjin.

he was even more striking up close, his platinum blonde hair glowed under the lights, his black warm-up attire accentuated his lean, sculpted frame. you swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of his presence.

émile cleared his throat, and all attention snapped back to him.

“welcome,” he began, his voice deep and steady. “you stand here today because you have proven yourselves among the most talented young dancers in the country. but talent alone will not secure your place here. over the next several months, you will be tested—physically, mentally, and artistically. some of you will thrive. some of you will falter.” his sharp gaze swept across the room. “only a select few will earn a permanent position within this company.”

the weight of his words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. you tried not to let it shake you, but your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of your tights.

“as you train, you will work with our esteemed instructors, as well as the company’s leading dancers.” émile gestured behind him, and that was when hyunjin stepped forward alongside the others. “these artists represent the highest standard of excellence. watch them. learn from them. and, if you are lucky, perhaps one day, you will dance beside them.”

a murmur rippled through the room, dancers exchanging glances of awe and quiet determination. you were no different—your gaze flickered toward hyunjin once again, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

your breath hitched.

it was brief, just a moment—his dark eyes meeting yours before a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if amused by your reaction. 

you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck.

“your training begins now,” émile’s voice snapped your attention back. “we will push you. and if you survive, you may just earn the right to call yourselves dancers of lumière.” murmurs began to be heard, but before you could break to hide in your thoughts, he spoke up again.

“one more thing, we have the company gala next week, we invite our advanced students, such as yourselves, to attend the performance and help with the party afterwards. i expect to see you all there.”

with that, the instructors began splitting the group up, but your thoughts remained elsewhere.

“i hope he didn’t think that was inspirational,” you heard a voice behind you.

you turned, seeing jisung leaning against a barre, arms crossed over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes.

you let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to shake off the weight of émile’s speech. “yeah, if the goal was to make us all fear for our lives, then mission accomplished.”

he smirked, pushing off the barre and stretching his arms over his head. “honestly, i think that’s the point. they want to weed out the ones who can’t handle the pressure.” he glanced around the room, where some dancers were already practicing their footwork, while others whispered amongst themselves, their nerves palpable. “some people thrive under that kind of intensity. others…” he trailed off, watching a girl in the corner shakily adjusting her pointe shoes.

you hummed in agreement, then glanced at him. “and what about you? are you one of those people who thrive?”

jisung shrugged, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

his confidence was subtle—not the overbearing, showy kind, but the kind that felt steady, reassuring. there was something about the way he carried himself that made you feel at ease, as if no matter how difficult things got, he would take it in stride.

you exhaled, shaking your head. “i get that they want to push us, but still… i was kind of hoping for at least one encouraging word.”

he chuckled. “guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

you turned to him with a teasing smile. “oh? and what words of wisdom do you have to offer?”

he pretended to think, lips pursing in exaggerated contemplation. “how about… ‘don’t pass out on your first day’?”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “wow. so profound.”

“i try,” he said with a grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

you gradually became acquainted with a few other girls in the class, aside from celeste and yeji. yeji, being well-connected within the company, had a couple of close friends she primarily stuck with—yuqi and lia, both senior dancers who carried themselves with the kind of effortless confidence that came from years of experience. it didn’t take long to realize that they seemed to know everything about everyone, from which instructors were the toughest to which dancers were secretly dating.

sensing an opportunity to learn the ins and outs of the company, you made an effort to spend more time around them. their presence, along with celeste’s, gave you a sense of comfort amid the overwhelming newness of it all.

with their guidance, you managed to survive your first class. the session focused mainly on warm-ups and refining positioning, easing you into the company’s expectations without immediately throwing you into the deep end. you concentrated on every movement, working to ensure your form was correct, and though you were nervous at first, it quickly became second nature.

oddly enough, time seemed to slip away faster than you anticipated. what started as a nerve-wracking first class soon became a blur of controlled movements, stretching, and quiet concentration. by the time the session ended, you were left feeling relieved.

as class ended, you fell into step with the girls, chatting idly as you made your way toward the commons. the conversation quickly turned into playful gossip about various company scandals—who was secretly dating whom, which instructors were the toughest, and who had mysteriously dropped out of the program.

it wasn’t until yuqi casually mentioned a name that you had already become all too familiar with that the conversation took a more intriguing turn.

“did you see hyunjin’s back from korea?” yuqi asked, slinging her bag off her shoulder before settling onto one of the couches.

your ears instantly perked up. you and the rest of the group followed suit, finding seats around her, the air buzzing with curiosity.

“i’m surprised he’s back so soon, considering what happened,” yeji added with a knowing grin, the kind that suggested she was sitting on a particularly juicy piece of information.

“what happened?” celeste beat you to the question just as you were about to ask yourself.

yeji leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if afraid someone else might overhear. “right before the end of last year, hyunjin got dumped by madeline picard—one of the best dancers this company has ever seen.” she let the name linger, watching for your reaction.

your brows furrowed. madeline picard. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but before you could dwell on it, yuqi picked up where yeji left off.

“yeah, and apparently, it wasn’t just a normal breakup. he totally lost it—had a complete meltdown and accused her of cheating because she ended things so suddenly.”

you blinked, surprised. hyunjin didn’t exactly seem like the type to be dramatic over a breakup.

lia, who had been mostly quiet until now, tilted her head, her expression amused. “i heard all he did in korea was go clubbing and hook up with every girl he came across.” she raised a brow as if challenging anyone to refute her claim.

your stomach twisted slightly. you weren’t sure why. maybe it was because you had only just met hyunjin, and already, there was so much weight behind his name. or maybe it was the idea that, beneath his striking looks and undeniable talent, there was something messy lurking underneath.

"apparently, he hasn’t spoken to anyone from last year," yeji added, her tone dripping with intrigue.

"he talked to me."

the words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, regret settled in your stomach like a rock. instantly, all eyes snapped to you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity flashing across their faces.

"what?" yeji practically narrowed her eyes at you, a sharp, almost jealous glint in her gaze.

"wait, hold on," yuqi leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. "you actually spoke to hyunjin? when?"

you swallowed, suddenly feeling very small under their intense stares. "it was nothing," you said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "i mean… he just offered to help me with my bags yesterday."

silence. then—

"you’re telling me," lia started slowly, eyeing you with suspicion, "that he randomly decided to help you with your luggage?"

"it wasn’t like that," you rushed to explain. "i didn’t even recognize him at first. i thought he was some weird guy bothering me, so i kind of snapped at him."

yuqi gasped dramatically. "you snapped at hyunjin?"

"well, yeah, but i didn’t know it was him!" you defended.

celeste let out a low whistle, shaking her head in amusement. "wow. bold of you."

yeji folded her arms, tapping a manicured finger against her elbow. "and what did he say after you oh-so-graciously rejected his help?"

you hesitated, recalling the way his dark eyes had flickered with something unreadable when you told him no. how he had looked you over before flashing a knowing grin.

"he just smiled and walked away," you admitted, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gazes.

another round of silence followed.

then, to your utter shock, lia smirked. "oh, he’s interested."

your eyes widened. "what? no, he’s not! it was just a random encounter—"

"please," yuqi scoffed. "hyunjin doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone. and you’re new, so it’s not like he has some pre-existing friendship with you."

"yeah," celeste chimed in, grinning. "sounds like someone caught the star dancer’s attention."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "you guys are seriously overthinking this."

"are we?" yeji quirked a brow. "or are you underthinking it?"

you shook your head, but the butterflies in your stomach told you otherwise.

as the weeks passed, the reality of your position at lumière ballet company began to settle in. you quickly realized that, compared to many of the other dancers, you had a lot of ground to cover. your turnout wasn’t as refined, your footwork wasn’t as naturally strong, and the effortless grace that others seemed to possess still felt just out of your reach. every class was a reminder of how much work lay ahead of you.

celeste was a constant source of encouragement, always quick to remind you that progress takes time, but even her reassurances couldn’t stop the nagging doubt from creeping in. what if it wasn’t enough? what if, no matter how hard you pushed yourself, your technique still paled in comparison to the others? the thought of being cut prematurely haunted you, lingering in the back of your mind like a storm cloud threatening to break.

but it wasn’t until you were unexpectedly called to the headmaster’s office that true fear gripped you. your heart pounded as you made your way through the halls, every step feeling heavier than the last. was this it? had they already decided that you weren’t good enough? the possibility loomed over you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

as you reached the emile’s office, you hesitated for a brief moment before gathering the courage to knock.

“come in,” a voice called from the other side.

taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. the office was grand yet intimidating, with towering bookshelves filled with ballet history, framed photos of past company stars, and the sharp scent of polished wood lingering in the air. seated behind an ornate mahogany desk was emile, a man whose presence commanded respect. across from him sat miss cassandra, your primary instructor, her sharp eyes scanning you the moment you entered.

“take a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the chair across from him.

your heart pounded as you settled into the seat, your palms pressing nervously against your skirt. miss cassandra crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap as the headmaster leaned forward, scrutinizing you for a moment before finally speaking.

“you’ve been here for a few weeks now,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “and i imagine you’ve realized just how competitive this company is.”

you swallowed, nodding.

“the reality is, ballet is as much about physicality as it is about artistry. this company—this industry—demands precision, discipline, and most importantly, the right body for it,” he continued. “your lines, your turnout, the way your feet work—it all matters. you have potential, but potential alone doesn’t earn you a place here.”

miss cassandra finally spoke, her voice carrying the same sharpness you were used to hearing in class. “you’re a hard worker, and that’s good. but hard work only goes so far when your technique isn’t where it needs to be. your turnout is lacking, and without proper turnout, your movements will never have the seamless quality we expect here.”

you gripped your hands together, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“the workshop performance is approaching,” the headmaster reminded you. “that performance will determine whether or not you earn your spot in the company. if you don’t show significant improvement by then, i’m afraid you won’t be able to continue training here.”

the words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. you had known this company was difficult, but hearing those words so plainly was different—it was a direct challenge, a warning that time was running out.

“we aren’t saying this to discourage you,” miss cassandra said, her gaze piercing. “we’re telling you this so you understand the reality of what’s at stake. you have work to do, and not much time to do it.”

emile nodded. “if you truly want this, you need to prove it. show us that you belong here.”

you felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, but beneath the fear, there was determination. you had fought too hard to get here—leaving wasn’t an option.

“i understand,” you said quietly, but with conviction.

miss cassandra studied you for a moment before nodding. “good. then i suggest you start working twice as hard, because the clock is ticking.”

with that, the meeting was over. you stood, offering a polite nod before turning toward the door. as you stepped into the hallway, the reality of the situation fully set in. you had only a few weeks to prove yourself.

back at the dorm, you sat on the edge of your bed, your hands clasped together in your lap as you tried to process everything. the headmaster’s words played over and over in your mind, intertwining with miss cassandra’s sharp critiques. the weight of it all felt suffocating.

celeste sat beside you, her arm draped around your shoulders in a comforting squeeze. “hey, don’t let it get to you too much,” she said softly. “you’re working hard. that has to count for something.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if it’s enough.”

celeste frowned, nudging you gently. “of course it’s enough. you’re not some talentless beginner. you got accepted here for a reason. if they didn’t see potential, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

you wanted to believe her, but emile’s warning still rang in your ears. potential isn’t enough.

before you could respond, the door to the dorm swung open, and yeji walked in, dropping her bag onto the floor with a thud. she glanced at the two of you before cocking her head. “what’s with the sad puppy look?”

celeste shot her a look. “she just had a talk with the headmaster.”

yeji raised a brow. “oh?” she tossed her shoes off and sat on her bed, crossing her legs. “let me guess. he told you your technique isn’t good enough?”

your silence was enough.

yeji sighed, shrugging as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. “well… he’s right.”

celeste stiffened beside you. “yeji.”

“what?” yeji leaned back against her pillows. “i’m just saying. this isn’t some feel-good ballet academy. if you can’t keep up, you get cut. that’s how it works.”

your stomach twisted at her bluntness. you knew she wasn’t saying it to be outright cruel—it was just how she was. but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

celeste shot up from the bed, glaring at yeji. “she knows that. she doesn’t need you rubbing it in.”

yeji rolled her eyes. “i’m not rubbing it in. i’m just being realistic.”

you exhaled, rubbing your temples. “she’s not wrong.”

celeste groaned, turning back to you. “no, don’t listen to her. you can do this. you just have to work harder, and i’ll help you however i can, okay?”

you nodded, offering her a small smile of appreciation.

yeji sighed dramatically, swinging her legs onto the bed. “i’m just saying, you should get used to criticism. if you can’t handle a little tough love, you won’t last here.”

celeste threw a pillow at her. “your love is just tough. there’s no love in it.”

yeji smirked, catching the pillow with ease. “fine. then consider it free advice.”

celeste huffed, plopping back down onto your bed with a determined look on her face. “alright, enough of this depressing mood. we need a distraction.”

you blinked at her, confused. “a distraction?”

she nodded, a mischievous grin forming. “yes. you, my dear, need a break. and i have just the thing—clubbing.”

your eyes widened. “clubbing?”

“clubbing,” she confirmed, already pulling out her phone. “we’re getting dressed up, going out, and having fun. you’ve been working your ass off, and it’s time to let loose for one night.”

yeji scoffed from her bed, stretching her arms over her head. “you? at a club?” she eyed you skeptically. “are you even the type?”

celeste shot her a glare. “of course she is. she just doesn’t know it yet.” then, without waiting for a response, she started texting. “i’m messaging minho, jisung, yuqi, and felix. we’re making a night of it.”

you groaned, already feeling exhausted at the thought. “celeste, i don’t know—”

“nope! no excuses.” she stood, hands on her hips. “you’re stressed, you’re overworked, and you’re doubting yourself. what you need is a night of dancing, drinks, and good music. trust me.”

yeji smirked. “i’ll go.”

“of course you will,” celeste muttered before turning back to you. “come on, y/n. when’s the last time you did something fun?”

you hesitated. you weren’t exactly the clubbing type, and the thought of being in a crowded place with loud music and flashing lights wasn’t something you typically sought out. but… maybe celeste had a point.

you had been completely consumed by ballet. the stress of proving yourself was weighing heavier by the day, and if you didn’t let loose even a little, you might actually implode.

“…fine,” you finally relented with a sigh.

celeste cheered, throwing her arms around you. “yes! i knew you’d come around.”

yeji chuckled, shaking her head. “this should be interesting.”

celeste turned back to her phone, quickly typing away. “minho says he’s in. jisung too. yuqi and felix are coming, so that means we officially have a squad.”

you bit your lip, nerves bubbling in your chest. what had you just agreed to?

celeste clasped her hands together. “alright, girls. let’s get ready. y/n, you’re gonna look so good, no man will be able to take his eyes off you.”

when you walked up to the club with celeste, yeji, and yuqi, jisung’s eyes lit up. it was almost as if he was in awe of you. of course, you didn’t notice, still too hung up on what the headmaster said to you that afternoon. 

jisung’s eyes roamed over you as you approached, his lips parting slightly as if he had something to say but couldn’t quite find the words. you looked different tonight—more than just dressed up. there was something about you that drew his attention like a magnet, something that made his chest feel a little tighter.

"you look..." he started, pausing as if searching for the right word. "wow."

you blinked, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. "huh?"

jisung let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "you look beautiful, y/n." his voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

you stared at him for a moment, then scoffed lightly, shaking your head. "yeah, right."

his brows furrowed. "i'm serious."

you offered him a small, polite smile. "thanks, jisung," you said, even though you didn’t quite believe him. it was a sweet thing to say, but after the afternoon you had, it was hard to see yourself as anything other than inadequate.

jisung frowned slightly, as if he could sense exactly what you were thinking. but before he could say anything more, minho clapped a hand on his shoulder. "are we going in or what?"

jisung gave you one last glance before nodding. "yeah. let’s go."

as the group made their way into the club, jisung couldn’t help but wonder why you brushed off his compliment so easily. and why, no matter how many people were around you, you still looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

once you all stepped inside, the pulsing bass of the music vibrated through your chest, the dim, colorful lights casting a glow over the crowded dance floor. the group pooled their money together for a table near the edge of the club, a spot just far enough from the speakers to talk but still close enough to feel the infectious energy of the room.

drinks were passed around, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be letting loose—everyone except you. no matter how much you tried to shake it off, the nagging weight of earlier conversations pressed heavily on your mind, dragging you down. you sat there, absently swirling the liquid in your glass, your gaze unfocused as your thoughts spiraled.

that was when jisung carefully reached over, plucking the drink from your fingers and setting it down on the table.

blinking, you turned to look at him, confusion flickering across your face. “what are you doing?”

his fingers wrapped gently around your hand, giving it a light tug as a playful smile tugged at his lips. "you didn’t get all dressed up just to sit here and overthink, did you?"

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, he nodded toward the dance floor, where bodies moved fluidly under the flashing lights. “come on,” he urged, his voice warm and inviting.

for a second, you hesitated. but the way jisung looked at you—like he wanted nothing more than to pull you away from whatever storm was brewing in your mind—made it hard to say no.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between jisung and the crowded dance floor. the pulsing music, the flashing lights, the bodies moving in sync—it was all so overwhelming. but then you looked at him. his eyes held no pressure, only warmth, only the unspoken promise that he was there, that he wanted you to have fun.

with a breath, you gave in. “okay,” you said softly.

a grin broke across jisung’s face as he gently led you onto the floor, weaving through the crowd until you found a space of your own. the rhythm of the music pulsed around you, a beat so infectious that it was impossible not to move. you started off slow, still a little unsure, your body stiff with lingering stress.

but jisung was different. he wasn’t stiff, not even a little. he moved with an effortless ease, his body in tune with the music like he was born for it. and as he danced beside you, he encouraged you with little smiles, playful nods, the way he subtly matched your movements to make it feel less like you were dancing alone.

“see?” he leaned in, his voice low but audible over the music. “not so bad, right?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i guess not.”

the tension in your shoulders began to melt away as the music took over, and for the first time that night, you felt lighter. jisung noticed it too—the way your movements became freer, how your laughter slipped out more easily. and god, did he think you were beautiful like this.

the flashing club lights illuminated your features in shifting shades of blue, purple, and red. your hair framed your face just right, your eyes shining even in the dim light. jisung had always thought you were beautiful, but here, seeing you loosen up, seeing you smile after looking so down all evening, it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

you twirled, laughing as the movement made you stumble slightly, and instinctively, jisung’s hands found your waist, steadying you before you could lose your balance. it was just for a second, but when you looked up at him, your faces only inches apart, he felt his breath catch.

his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary before he cleared his throat, stepping back with a grin, though his heart was racing. “careful,” he teased. “don’t go falling for me now.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “as if.”

but the way jisung looked at you in that moment, his gaze lingering, his playful smirk softening into something fonder—if only you knew just how much he already had fallen. 

after what felt like an eternity of dancing—your body light with adrenaline, the weight of the past weeks momentarily forgotten—jisung finally pulled away with a breathless grin. “alright, alright,” he laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “even i need a break.”

you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “yeah, i could use a drink.”

together, you weaved through the throng of people toward the bar, where the neon glow cast everything in shades of blue and purple. jisung leaned against the counter, signaling to the bartender while you stood beside him, catching your breath. your skin was still warm from dancing, your heart racing—not just from the exertion, but from the lingering feeling of jisung’s hands on your waist, the way he had looked at you under the flashing lights.

you exhaled deeply, shaking the thoughts away as the bartender slid two drinks across the counter. you reached for yours absentmindedly, lifting it to your lips—

“didn’t expect to see you here.”

you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. you knew that voice. slowly, you turned your head, and there he was.

hyunjin.

up close, the dim club lighting softened the sharp angles of his face, but his presence was just as striking as ever. his platinum hair fell slightly into his dark eyes, which were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart stutter. he smelled faintly of expensive cologne and alcohol, the scent mingling with the warmth of the crowded club.

you swallowed, willing your expression to stay neutral. “didn’t expect to see you either,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

hyunjin tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “didn’t take you for the clubbing type.” his eyes flickered over you, taking in the way your dress hugged your figure, how different you looked outside of the company’s strict ballet attire.

you raised a brow. “and what type did you take me for?”

he chuckled, resting his elbow on the bar beside you, leaning in just slightly. “hardworking. serious. someone who wouldn’t waste time on things like this.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “so i can’t let loose once in a while?”

“i didn’t say that.” he lifted his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip before continuing. “it’s just… surprising.”

you chuckled and shook your head. “do you even know my name?” you raised a brow as you looked up at him. he looked down at you, that smirk never leaving his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“y/n l/n.” he smiled. “how could i forget a face like yours?”

something about the way he said it sent an odd thrill through you. it wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at you.

before you could come up with a response, another voice cut in.

“everything alright here?”

you turned to see jisung standing beside you, his gaze flicking between you and hyunjin. his usual warmth was still there, but there was something else too—a quiet protectiveness, a subtle tension in the way he held himself.

hyunjin looked at jisung, then back at you, his smirk widening slightly, as if he understood something neither of you had said out loud. he straightened, stepping back slightly. “didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes told you he had done exactly that.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “we were just talking.”

“of course,” hyunjin mused, swirling the ice in his glass. then, with one last glance at you—one that lingered a second too long—he gave a small nod. “enjoy your night, y/n l/n.”

and just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving behind the scent of cologne and the faintest trace of something else.

jisung watched hyunjin disappear into the crowd, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. he turned back to you, studying your face—the way your eyes lingered on the spot hyunjin had stood, the way your fingers still gripped your drink a little too tightly.

“you okay?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

you nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. “yeah.”

jisung let out a breath, forcing a small chuckle. “you know… for someone who just met him, you sure look at him like he hung the stars.”

your eyes snapped to his, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. it wasn’t anger—not exactly. but there was something there, something deeper than his usual lightheartedness.

you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling exposed. “i don’t—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “it’s not like that.”

jisung gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying it. “isn’t it?”

you swallowed, trying to find the right words, but none came. because deep down, you knew there was truth in what he was saying. there was something about hyunjin—his presence, his reputation, the effortless way he pulled you in. it was exciting. addictive, even.

jisung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i’m not trying to ruin your night.” his voice was softer now, but there was a weight behind it. “i just…” he hesitated, then forced a small smile. “never mind.”

“no, what?” you frowned, stepping closer. “tell me.”

jisung studied you for a moment, then shook his head with a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “nothing. just… be careful with him, okay?”

you wanted to ask why. wanted to pry into whatever was making his expression so guarded. but before you could, celeste appeared beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder.

“there you are! come on, we bought another round.”

you glanced back at jisung, but he had already taken a step away, masking whatever he was feeling with his usual easygoing grin.

“yeah,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus back on the present. “let’s go.”

but even as celeste dragged you toward the bar, you couldn’t shake the feeling that jisung’s words weren’t just a warning.

they were a plea.

the air in the studio was thick with tension, the usual routine of class disrupted by the presence of an audience. against the far wall, the company’s most renowned dancers, including hyunjin, sat in a neat line alongside the instructors and the director himself, their watchful eyes scanning the room as they whispered amongst themselves.

it had been a few months since your first day at lumière, and you’d finally begun to settle into the rigorous schedule, but today’s class wasn’t just another routine. today, they were scouting for dancers to be featured in the upcoming workshop—a performance that could solidify your place at the company.

your heart pounded as you stepped up to the barre, standing between celeste and yeji. yeji, always composed, adjusted her arm with practiced ease, while celeste rolled her shoulders back, flashing you a reassuring glance. “relax,” she mouthed.

you tried. you really did. but when the pianist began to play, signaling the start of class, your limbs felt stiffer than usual.

the warm-up passed in a blur of tendus and pliés, and as the class progressed, the instructors led everyone to the center for adagios and pirouettes. it was there, under the relentless scrutiny of the panel, that your nerves truly took hold.

“focus on turnout,” miss cassandra’s voice rang out as she walked the floor, correcting postures with a tap of her stick. “shoulders down, breath through the movement.”

you moved into your développé, willing yourself to remain poised, but as you extended your leg, you felt the slightest tremor in your ankle. it wasn’t much, but you knew the observers were trained to notice every detail.

beside you, yeji moved with the elegance of someone who had spent her entire life training for this moment. she was fluid, controlled, every movement effortless. it was no surprise—she was practically a shoo-in for the workshop.

celeste, meanwhile, danced with raw passion. even if her technique wasn’t as pristine, her expressiveness more than made up for it. you could tell she was determined to stand out today.

then there was jisung. though he was newer to classical ballet, he moved with an ease that made it seem as if he had been doing it all his life. his jumps were strong, and his turns were quick yet smooth, full of a quiet confidence that was captivating.

when it was time for pirouettes, you swallowed hard. you weren’t bad at them, but they weren’t your strongest skill either. you tried to keep your focus on the movement, on your breath, on the control of your core—but the moment you spotted hyunjin watching you from across the room, your rhythm faltered.

you stumbled slightly on your third rotation, stepping out of the turn to catch yourself.

you heard a quiet hum of disapproval from the instructors’ side. heat rushed to your face, but you kept going, forcing yourself to push through.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw hyunjin tilt his head, an unreadable expression on his face. he leaned in slightly as if saying something to the dancer beside him, and for a split second, your stomach twisted with uncertainty. was he talking about you?

before you could dwell on it, the instructor clapped her hands. “next group.”

you exhaled sharply and stepped back, catching jisung’s glance as you did. he gave you a small, encouraging smile, one that you tried to return despite the weight in your chest.

the class continued with across-the-floor exercises, and though you did your best, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today had not been your strongest performance.

as the final reverence came to a close, the director finally stepped forward.

“thank you all,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. his voice was calm, measured, but held a weight that made your stomach churn. “we’ve been observing closely, and over the next few days, we will be making our selections for the workshop.” his sharp eyes swept the room. “work hard. your future here depends on it.”

with that, he turned and left, the rest of the observers trailing behind him.

hyunjin was the last to go.

as he stepped out, his gaze flickered toward you once more.

you had only meant to make a quick stop at the drugstore, picking up a few necessities—shampoo, toothpaste, maybe even a face mask to treat yourself after the grueling week of training. but as you browsed the shelves, a familiar figure caught your eye from the corner of the aisle.

at first, you froze, your mind scrambling to process whether or not you were seeing things. maybe it was just someone who looked like him—platinum blond hair wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t impossible. still, curiosity got the best of you.

gripping your shopping basket a little tighter, you stepped out of the aisle and glanced in the direction he had gone. the moment your eyes landed on him, any doubt vanished. it was hyunjin.

he was standing by the skincare section, intently reading the label of a serum bottle, his sharp features relaxed in concentration.

without giving yourself time to overthink it, you strode toward him, adopting a casual air as you stopped beside him. “i’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you quipped, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you pretended to inspect the same shelf he was browsing.

hyunjin turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk as he met your gaze. “oh?” he mused, raising a brow. “and here i thought you were stalking me.”

you scoffed, picking up a random moisturizer just to keep your hands busy. “i was here first.”

“so you say.” he let out a soft chuckle before setting the serum back on the shelf, shoving a hand into the pockets of his hoodie. “didn’t expect to see you outside the studio. you look different compared to how i saw you the other day.”

you blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “different how?”

hyunjin tilted his head, scanning you briefly. “less serious. less…” he trailed off, searching for the word before finally settling on, “stressed.”

you let out a small laugh, though the statement made something twist in your chest. “guess that means i should work on my poker face.”

his smirk lingered as he leaned a bit closer, voice dropping slightly. “or maybe you should learn to loosen up.”

your breath hitched at the proximity, but you quickly masked it, rolling your eyes instead. “says the guy who takes himself so seriously he can’t even enjoy a simple trip to the drugstore.” you gestured toward the products in front of him. “what are you even looking for?”

“face cleanser,” he said, picking up a bottle. “ran out.”

you feigned interest, tilting your head as you examined it. “is that the secret to looking like a prince on stage?”

hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s just face wash.”

“sure it is,” you teased, placing the moisturizer back on the shelf. “next you’re gonna tell me you don’t have some ten-step skincare routine.”

he chuckled, running a hand against his hair. “maybe i do. gotta keep up appearances, right?”

you found yourself smiling, the usual nerves you felt around him easing just a little.

for a moment, the conversation settled into a comfortable pause. then, with a glance at your basket, hyunjin nodded toward it. “what about you? shopping spree?”

you scoffed. “hardly. just grabbing some things i ran out of.”

“hm.” he tapped his fingers against the edge of the shelf, studying you for a moment before flashing a lopsided grin. “well, don’t let me keep you from your very important purchases.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “yeah, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your skincare journey, either.”

just as you were about to turn away, hyunjin’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“hey.”

you glanced back at him, heart inexplicably picking up speed as he casually dropped a bottle of cleanser into his basket.

“have you had dinner yet?” he asked, his voice smooth yet unreadable. he took a slow step toward you, his head tilting slightly as he studied your reaction.

you froze, caught completely off guard. your fingers instinctively tightened around the handle of your basket. “um… no. not yet, anyway.” the words tumbled from your lips, slightly uneven.

hyunjin’s mouth twitched in amusement, clearly noticing your sudden shift in demeanor. “then let’s eat something,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

your brows lifted slightly. “what, like… together?”

he let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “no, separately. at the same place. sitting at different tables.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the tiny smile forming at the corners of your lips. “alright, smartass. i just wasn’t expecting you to—” you paused, suddenly hesitant. was this… a date? or was he just being friendly?

“wasn’t expecting me to what?” hyunjin prompted, watching you with an unreadable expression.

you shifted on your feet. “to, i don’t know, invite me to dinner?”

his smirk softened, and he shrugged. “why not? i’m hungry, you’re hungry. might as well eat together. better yet, how about we go to my place?”

it was such a simple reason. no deeper meaning, no hidden intentions—at least, none that you could decipher. and yet, something about the idea of sharing a meal with hyunjin made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t sure how to handle.

“okay,” you said before you could overthink it. “yeah. sure.”

hyunjin grinned, satisfied. “good.” he glanced down at your basket. “you done shopping?”

you nodded, and together, the two of you made your way toward the checkout counter.

as you stood in line, you stole a quick glance at him. this was the most time you had spent with him outside of class, and despite your initial nerves, it felt… natural. easy, even.

little did you know, jisung had texted you while you were shopping. and when you didn’t answer, he’d decided to call.

just as you placed your items on the counter, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pulled it out, seeing the screen light up with a familiar name. jisung.

you hesitated, glancing at hyunjin, who was now placing his own items on the counter.

as the phone buzzed in your hand, you hesitated for a second before pulling it out and answering.

"hey, jisung," you said, trying to sound casual as you stepped slightly away from hyunjin.

"hey! i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some food or something? you kinda disappeared after class, and i figured you could use a break." his voice was as warm as ever, that familiar lilt making you feel at ease.

you chewed on your lip, glancing at hyunjin, who was busy paying for his things. “oh, um… i actually just made plans to eat.”

“with who?” jisung asked lightly, but you could hear the slight shift in his tone.

you hesitated. “hyunjin.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end. not long—just a second—but enough for you to notice.

“oh,” jisung finally said. “cool. guess he’s finally got you under his spell, huh?” his attempt at humor didn’t fully mask the disappointment in his voice.

you sighed, feeling a slight pang of guilt. “it’s just dinner. it wasn’t even planned or anything, we just ran into each other at the store.”

“right.” another pause. then, a forced chuckle. “well, have fun, then.”

you frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. “jisung, don’t be like that.”

“like what?” he let out a small laugh, but it lacked his usual warmth. “look, you can hang out with whoever you want. i was just calling to check in, that’s all.”

you exhaled through your nose, wanting to say more, but before you could, he beat you to it.

“i’ll see you later, okay?”

and before you could respond, the call ended.

you lowered your phone, staring at the screen for a moment. something about the way he had sounded unsettled you. you knew jisung cared about you—he was one of your closest friends here—but this felt different.

“everything okay?” hyunjin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. he was standing next to you now, his bag in one hand, yours in the other, both receipts discarded. you didn’t even realize he bought your things for you, you were still hung up on what han said.

you forced a small smile, tucking your phone away. “yeah. just… my friend checking in.”

hyunjin raised a brow, but didn’t press. “ready to go?”

you nodded, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of jisung as you followed hyunjin out the door.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @nickgurl4life

©chxnsgirl do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[manicmanuscription]

Selfishly Late

This is the the second part to unapologetically selfish!!

I have literally rewrote this piece like five fucking times no joke. It's still not perfect in my eyes and there's definitely going to be a part three but I needed to post this before I went insane.

Thank you all for your patience and support I love you <3

Word Count: 1554

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, suggestive, possessive Azriel.

Summary: Azriel has you running a little late to your introduction with his family. But he just can't seem to keep his hands off you.

divider by @strangergraphics-archive

You took one last look in the mirror before scoffing. 

Azriel had absolutely covered you in hickies. On any inch of skin he could reach, paying extra attention to your throat and collarbones. You gave him a pointed glare as he finished dressing behind you in the mirror but he was too busy fixing the cuff of his sleeves to notice. With a roll of your eyes you reached down for the scarf, draping it over your neck and brushing your hair back from underneath. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”  Azriel asked, slightly appalled as you adjusted your scarf and hair to cover some of the more egregious bruises.

He crossed the room in a few strides before standing directly behind you as you sat at your vanity. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he pulled the scarf away from your neck gently and pinned your hair up with the jeweled metal hairpin he had gotten you last year as a birthday present, perfectly showing off the hickies.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed, turning in your seat to face him and his eyes gleamed at the yellowing dots decorating your bare skin. “I can not show up to your family’s house like this!” 

His brows furrowed slightly, the only sign of confusion you’d read off the usually stoic male. “But you look so pretty like this my love.” He murmured, reaching down and brushed his fingertips against the tender skin, his breath tickling your ear as he pressed another biting kiss to the juncture of your throat. 

Everyone told you once a mating bond snapped the males got unusually possessive, of course you believed them but Azriel was something on a whole different level. When you first met him he explained Illyrians were more territorial, all the instincts heightened. You couldn’t remember the exact sciences on it why but it made you feel so safe, loved and incredibly turned on. 

You gave him an exasperated look through the mirror, one he promptly ignored. His hands curling tighter around your shoulders. This had been going on for years. Every attempt at an introduction was thwarted by Azriel’s skilled persuasive abilities and intoxicating touch.

You did your best to stay strong this time, trying to ignore the way your entire being electrified at his close proximity, sparks running along every expanse of skin he touched. Your toes curled and you let out a soft breathy moan. One that Azriel had still heard and a victorious smile graced his lips. He hid his face in your neck so you didn’t see it. 

But you still did and it was enough to -barely- break you out of his spell. You stood up out of your chair and he rose to full height with you, towering over you slightly. “Azriel!” You reprimanded. “We are going to be late.”  

“We’re already late, what’s an extra five minutes?” He smirked, his shadows swirling around his shoulders as if in agreement. You scoffed, letting out a few curses under your breath. He had been pulling this all morning. 

You didn’t have to be a Spymaster to know Azriel was dragging his feet, first holding you tighter in bed so he could keep using your stomach as a pillow, spilling coffee on the outfit you’d picked out so you’d have to spend another 15 minutes trying to create a new one and now this hickey situation.  

You knew the High Lord or Lady was yelling at him too if any of the occasional winces and rubbing his temples were anything to go by. 

“I’m going to be making such a bad impression already!” You protested, holding your palm out for your clothing back. “Now give me my scarf so we can go please.” 

Azriel just looked at the light brown fabric still wrapped in his hands as if it committed a grievous act against him. “You’re so obsessed with this scarf.” 

You groaned, this time you were the one soothing your head with your fingertips. You knew he struggled when you were gone for long periods of time, both of your work schedules making it endlessly hard to actually have time to be husband and wife, mates, and life partners it drove you crazy too but you’d have to find a compromise because there was no way you were showing up to the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court’s estate covered in hickies. 

You told him as much and he paused, finally noticing your nerves of the event. Years after missed dates and scheduling conflicts and getting distracted by Azriel’s sly touch was all coming to an end, you were finally meeting his family, it loomed over your head and nerves pumped violently through your bloodstream.

It was a bittersweet feeling and you just wanted everything to go well, Azriel wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing his family was. His love for them ran deep and if they somehow didn’t like you….

Azriel begrudgingly passed the scarf over, your comfortability and safety would always come first and he tamped down those raging instincts telling him to whisk you and mark you more thoroughly and reclaim you over and over again especially after your long time apart. He instead pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry love, we are completely mild compared to the crazy shit I’ve seen or heard my brother’s get into with their mates.” He shuddered and you laughed a little bit, pressing yourself closer to him so you could give him a quick hug and a soft peck to his lips, hearing a mumbled “Gods you’re killing me.”  Before sitting back down at your vanity. He sent a wave of reassurance through the bond and you returned it. You've dined with High Lord’s before this would be fine, you were fine. It had to be fine. 

“He’s not coming.” Mor said with finality. Looking over at the golden watch on Amren’s wrist. “I mean they were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.” The ancient female pulled her hand away from the blonde sharply, giving her an even harsher look of disdain.

Cassian eyed the clock nervously and shot Mor a warning glare. It was incredibly important to him that this went well, you were a major part in his brother’s life and he wanted to not only make a good impression but also make sure you were good enough for Azriel, he recognized it as a silly thought you’d been mated for many years (unbeknownst to him) -and he’d definitely be having some words with Azriel about not being there for his mating ceremony later- but he wanted to make sure Azriel felt loved and cherished, taken care of with all the shit he’d already been through in his lifetime. 

Rhysand just let out a soft sigh, swirling the orange juice in his glass, desperately wishing it was something stronger. He’d assumed his dear brother would be late based on his previous patterns and the little reunion they’d witnessed last night but not this late and he was giving the Spymaster five more minutes before he winnowed the entire family, and their dining table to his living room torches all ablaze and pitchforks raised.

Although he couldn’t help but let out a soft smile at the thought of the usual strict and punctual Shadowsinger was willing to abandon his rigid routine for someone. 

“He’ll be here.” Feyre assured on her mate’s behalf, although her own confidence in him was waning, he did have a habit of simply not showing up when an introduction was planned. 

“You’re sure the female you saw wasn’t an illusion or a paid actress or-?” Mor started but suddenly the lighting in the room dimmed, shadows moving briefly across the edges of the floorboards before the sunlight streamed through the windows once again. An unfamiliar female’s voice rang throughout the large house as she laughed and Cassian’s heart flooded with relief at the sound, anxiety simultaneously  pumping in his chest, he wanted everything to go perfectly.

 “-are absolutely ridiculous.” “Yeah, yeah.” The shadowsinger muttered, the leftover pieces of conversation barely reaching the Inner Circle’s ears. 

Two sets of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, getting closer and closer to the dining room.

 Mor whispered a shocked. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” 

She whispered it after every movement made until finally the couple came into view, standing in the open doorway and she couldn’t even make a sound, her mouth dropping at the sight of you. 

There was a few stunned moments of silence. 

The Inner Circle was staring at you as if you were a foreign creature and you shifted a little bit under their gaze, your mate had prepared you for an endless stream of questions but not the wide eyes and open mouths although you guess it was to be expected and Azriel tightened his hold on your shoulders protectively. 

“Surely you have better manners than this?” He bit out a little harsher than originally meant after a few more uncomfortable moments of stillness. 

You gave them a bright smile and a timid wave, breaking them out of their trance and all of a sudden they erupted with movement pulling you in for hugs and shaking your hands. Not so subtly inspecting you all the while bombarding you with questions.

This was going to be quite the breakfast. 

[writeriguess]

hi sweetie, I hope you are well ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡). I came to request katsuki Bakugou x female reader. They are married but due to Bakugou hero's busy schedule they have few moments together, I would like the plot to be based on the reader discovering Bakugou's infidelity (I want to suffer) (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ) following the appearance of a pregnant woman (or some crazy stuff like that?) If it's too much, don't worry! I just want that kind of anguish. tysm .ᐟ.ᐟ

author's note: Thank you, I am well <3 The upcoming work trip stresses me out a little though! I'm likely on it when this publishes.

A House Built on Ashes

The apartment is silent when you wake up, the other side of the bed cold. Again.

You stare at the ceiling, blinking away the sleep that threatens to pull you back under. Katsuki’s been working late. Too late. Always too late. Your hands glide across the empty sheets, searching for warmth that hasn’t been there in weeks. The clock on your nightstand reads 3:14 AM. A part of you wonders if he’ll even come home tonight.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you wrap his hoodie around your frame and pad barefoot into the kitchen. Your heart sinks when you see the untouched dinner, still wrapped and waiting for him. The weight in your chest grows heavier as you unwrap the food, staring at the cold meal you made hours ago. It’s stupid, really. You should be used to this by now.

The sound of the front door unlocking makes you flinch. You turn, breath caught in your throat, as Katsuki steps inside. His ash-blond hair is disheveled, his hero uniform half undone, revealing the black compression shirt underneath. He looks tired—exhausted even—but not in the way he should be. Not in the way of a man who’s just been fighting villains all day.

His crimson eyes meet yours, widening slightly as if he wasn’t expecting you to be awake.

“Yer still up?” His voice is rough, like he’s been screaming. Or lying.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Your fingers tighten around the edge of the counter. “Where were you?”

He hesitates. It’s barely a second, but it’s enough.

“Work ran late.”

A simple answer. A practiced one. But something is off. His uniform smells like detergent—freshly washed. His scent is there, but it’s muted. As if someone else’s perfume had been scrubbed away. A cold tendril of doubt coils around your heart.

“I called,” you say, watching his expression carefully. “Three times.”

His jaw tightens. “Phone died.”

Lies.

You want to believe him. Gods, you want to. You want to be the supportive wife, the one who understands that being the Number Two Pro Hero means sacrifices. But you know Katsuki. You know how meticulous he is about keeping his gear—and his phone—charged.

You know when he’s lying.

A week passes, and the distance between you both grows like a festering wound. He kisses you still, but there’s something different. Guilt, maybe. Or obligation. And then it happens. The moment everything unravels.

It’s a grocery run. A normal, mindless errand. Until you see her.

She’s beautiful. Dark hair pulled into a loose bun, wearing an oversized sweater that hides the curve of her stomach—almost. But you see it. The subtle swell of a life growing inside her. And more than that, you see the way her hands hover protectively over her belly.

You might have walked past her without a second glance if it weren’t for the conversation you overheard.

“Oh, please,” the woman scoffs, rolling her eyes as she adjusts the shopping basket on her arm. “Like she really thinks he’s still faithful to her? She’s pathetic.”

You freeze.

Her friend giggles, covering her mouth. “I mean, Y/N is stupidly naive if she thinks a man like Katsuki would actually stick around forever.”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins.

The woman—this stranger—laughs, a bitter, knowing sound. “Right? He knocked me up, and she’s still playing house like nothing’s wrong. I mean, come on, he spends more nights with me than her at this point.”

Your stomach churns. It feels like the ground is swallowing you whole.

Her friend nudges her playfully. “So, when’s Bakugou finally ditching her and stepping up?”

The woman sighs, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Soon, hopefully. I mean, we all know he’s just staying out of guilt. But once this baby’s here?” She grins. “She’ll just be the embarrassing ex-wife.”

You don’t remember walking out of the store. You don’t remember the drive home. You don’t remember anything except the way your heart beats so violently against your ribs that it hurts.

By the time Katsuki comes home that night, you’re sitting on the couch, his hoodie pulled tight around you, your hands clenched into fists in your lap.

He doesn’t get the chance to speak before you ask, voice hollow—“Do you love her?”

The silence that follows is the worst part. Because it’s not immediate denial. It’s not outrage at the accusation. It’s nothing. Just quiet, suffocating nothingness.

Your whole world burns.

The silence stretches between you like a yawning abyss. Your heart pounds so violently that you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Katsuki stares at you, crimson eyes unreadable, but his lips part like he’s searching for something to say—an excuse, a reason, a lie that will make this all go away.

But nothing comes.

Nothing.

And that is the final straw.

Your hands tremble as you push yourself to your feet, and suddenly, all the pain that’s been simmering inside you—festering, growing, poisoning every quiet moment you spent waiting for him—boils over.

“You bastard,” you whisper, but it’s more than that. It’s not just an insult. It’s a curse, a condemnation, a blade forged from every night you spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why you weren’t enough.

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t try to defend himself.

Coward.

“Say something, Katsuki!” you shout, and your voice cracks on his name. His name—the one you’ve whispered in love, in devotion, in trust. Now it tastes like ash on your tongue.

But he doesn’t say anything.

The quiet shatters something inside you. You shove past the coffee table, hands shaking as you grab the untouched dinner you left wrapped for him hours ago. The plate crashes into the sink with a sharp, ringing clatter, the sound echoing through the suffocating apartment. “You could’ve just told me,” you say, voice shaking. “You could’ve told me that you didn’t love me anymore instead of—”

Instead of this.

Instead of letting you rot away in this lie.

Instead of making you look like a fucking fool.

You press a hand against your forehead, breathing hard, fighting against the sob that threatens to rip itself from your chest. Your vision is blurry with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall—not yet. Not in front of him.

Katsuki finally moves, stepping forward, hands raised as if he can fix this—as if he has the right to touch you after everything. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice like glass shards. He flinches, and good. Let him feel just a fraction of what you feel. Let it fucking hurt.

You let out a bitter laugh, though it tastes more like grief than amusement. “I cooked for you. I waited up for you. I defended you every single time someone said you wouldn’t settle down. And you—” You shake your head, chest heaving. “You weren’t even fucking careful. You didn’t even have the decency to make sure I didn’t find out like this.”

His eyes darken, but there’s shame there, too. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, sure. You just tripped and fell into another woman? And now she’s having your kid?”

His lips press into a thin line, and for the first time, you see it. The guilt. The regret. But it’s too late for that now. Too fucking late.

Your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your palms until you’re sure they’ll leave crescent-shaped marks. You’re shaking, your whole body vibrating with rage, with devastation, with betrayal so deep it makes you sick to your stomach.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” you whisper, voice raw. “You don’t get to make me love you, to promise me forever, and then throw me away like I meant nothing.”

His hands tighten at his sides. “You didn’t mean nothing.”

But it’s not enough. It will never be enough.

Your breath catches, the dam finally breaking as a sob rips through your throat. “Then why wasn’t I enough?”

And for the first time, Katsuki has no answer.

You nod, wiping at your face furiously before turning on your heel, heading straight for the bedroom. Your mind is racing, already thinking about packing, about leaving, about never looking back. About how much it’s going to hurt.

He calls your name—soft, desperate.

But you don’t stop.

You don’t look back.

Because if you do, you might break completely.

[cochineal-leviat]

The morning after

Part 1

I have to be honest; I did not expect how much people would love the fic and comic I made. I am still flabbergasted at how many people commented on the fic and left me such lovely tags and remarks here on tumblr. Thank you so much for all of that. They really made my week last week. I was walking on sunshine throughout it all.

I was going to leave the comic as is, but all the support and adoration fired me up, so I decided to continue the comic ^_^.

I based the table spread on what is typical around my area and then added grapes and an apple because Siffrin was not getting any good nutrients from what was on his plate.

It is unsurprising who my favourite character is, seeing how much I drew Odile in these two pages. Also, I did not mean for Odile to look like the Grinch at the bottom of page 1, but it just kind of sort of happened, and then it was too funny to erase it. Happy accidents and all.

The comic pages without the text is under keep reading

No coloured version this time because the colours I used initially don't look that good. Dude, I love Odile so much. I am pleased with how she turned out.

[kiragecko]

Used @zahri-melitor 's LIST to add in more of the 'Nightwing's Life Falls Apart' period! Needed the support, because every time I try to check issues, I get sucked in and just start reading, rather than skimming for data. Nightwing is a GOOD comic, you guys!

(The Outsiders issues are easier to skim, but everything about the set up causes a shroud of apathy to descend upon me. Not even the promise of Lian can lift it! Casual sex and attempting not to care about each other while engaged in more violent and less hopeful missions? Those are all of my 'disengage' buttons!)

Still need to check which issue has Babs seeing Dick and Catalina together and jumping to conclusions. This was a BAD period for guys being assumed to be cheating by their partners! Think it happens before the issue they go on break. But if I open the comics again I'm going to start reading Nightwing 81 again, where DICK AND CASS TEAM UP. Forgot about that. Cass is so great at the beginning, and I need more!

Thank you, Zahri!

-

Also filled in a bit more detail about Cassie's costumes, and added Anita's first appearance.

-

Edit: Oops! Forgot the other reason I wanted to make this update. Ended up going on a rant, and I have a desire to be Argued With. Or agreed with. I have strong opinions and want to discuss them! So, anyone have thoughts:

Dick going by 'Crutches', working with the mob. Fans say he's 'undercover'. This is EXTREMELY questionable. He truly loves the Tevis family, and has basically been adopted. He thinks he destroys everything he touches and can't be a hero anymore. He's willing to rough people up, and has worked out an agreement with Tevis where he doesn't kill. But he also has plans if Tevis gets an audience with the higher level mafiosos? Or possibly MAKES plans when he sees an opportunity? Like, he's not able to escape heroism, because he's DICK GRAYSON, but he does truly seem to be trying, here!

How sincere do you guys think Dick's mob adoption was? How much was self-destruction, and how much was a sincere desire to take things apart from the inside? How much of his Renegade plan was spur-of-the-moment?

Most comics timelines don’t include the IMPORTANT things. Things like when people start dating, when they call their unofficial sibling ‘little brother’ for the first time, or when they switch to that REALLY bad costume you love to hate.

This timeline is different. It doesn’t include 'major’ events - boring things like alien invasions, or near-apocalypses - unless they actually have long term effects on the heroes. Instead, it focuses on the interpersonal and internal events - first team-ups, how long characters take to actually adopt their codenames, and when they started hiding in the basement trying to clone their dead best friend. The type of stuff you want to know if you write fanfic.

It’s also very centred around the teen heroes’ lives. Especially the original Teen Titans and Young Justice members. So Ollie only shows up when he’s being a good (or more often, bad) parent, or dying. But I hope to include every nanny Lian has had, and when she had them.

It’s still in its early stages. So much stuff I haven’t remembered to add, yet. And I’d love help with the romantic data - I don’t CARE about icky kissing, so I haven’t been collecting that info for the last decade.

[allertonhoe]

partners in lies - rafe cameron (smau)

masterlist ☆ 59 ← 60

summary: in which two public figures need help getting back into the public’s good graces after being bombarded in scandal.

content warnings: model!rafe x actress!reader au, original afab!reader, cameron family still gets along au, suggestive content, mentions/allusions to revenge p*rn (HOWEVER ALL CONTENT ITSELF IS SFW), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, general fuckboy behaviour.

a/n: and there she is 🥰🥰 hope you guys like how it all wrapped up 🥹 genuinely, thank you all SOO much for all of your love & support on this since the beginning. i absolutely LOVED reading all of your comments & tags & reactions to everything!! i've had so much fun writing this & am so glad you guys have grown to love it as much as i do 💞💞

ALSO!! there isn't an epilogue really put together yet—you can let me know if you want one in this poll!! i will be posting a few extra chapters (and might have some polls for them 👀) over the next few weeks, but for the moment there isn't a planned sequel. i've been trying to actually write more and have a ton of ideas for a few new series, so look out for that! thank you all again!! 💗💗

taglist below!

[girl-named-matty]

Fixing Hogwarts Legacy After Two Years (very unrealistic)

As you may know, it's the 2nd Anniversary of Hogwarts Legacy being released! So this year, I'm finally making the ending a bit happier! (this is satire btw lol. Read to the bottom to find a very non-satire message I have for all of you xoxo)

Fig is alive and MC isn't traumatized by his death!

Anne gets cured, can go back to school, Sebastian never turned to the dark arts to save her, and they go back to being the mischievous twin duo!

Ominis isn't traumatized by his best & oldest friend turning to the dark arts! Poppy make's friends, her Gran is okay, and now she spends her days with the Snidgets!

Natty never got crucio'ed and her and her mom are doing as good as ever!

Garreth can now (safely) make potions whenever and I guess he got his Aunt to stop breathing down his neck! (She still keeps an eye on him tho)😂

Leander realized that he is cool and now he's having the time of his life! Amit isn't traumatized by having to go down into that mine with MC LOL.

And last but not least, Mr. Grumpy pants is behind bars for everything he's done.

And many, many, many other happy things!

And we all cheered, yay!!!!

Jokes & humor aside, I cannot believe its been two years since HL came out. I've been playing since Feb 10th and since then I have had the opportunity to meet so many wonderful people who are now some of my closest friends. I know that sounds a lil ridiculous but it's true!

You guys have helped me get through some tough stuff and have always supported that and for that I am always so thankful.

To my friends, mutuals, followers (every single one of you), thank you so much. Thank you for making my fandom experience so fun and for supporting me in my silly little shenanigans. Much love out to you! 💕

[unsuitablepet]

i've noticed you're Canadian, and as an incredibly terrified american, are you guys getting news that war is actually likely? our news and search engines are being heavily censored, i actually cannot find anything past 2024 about possible war. i'm reeling that it's possible, but i wouldn't put it past the orange fuck. i am so sincerely sorry for that cockalorum.

Hey! First of all, thanks for reaching out, and I'm sorry to hear you're terrified. We are also terrified to hear that your news is being censored. As I'm sure you can imagine, now more than ever, we want Americans to be aware of our situation and what's going on up north.

In terms of whether our news is saying war is likely... that's hard to answer. Truthfully, our news sources take a bit of a different tone than yours, for the most part. We're very avoidant of absolutes until things are certain, and our journalists (the respectable ones) tend to avoid alarmist rhetoric - at least compared to the kind of reporting and headlines we often see from many (still very respectable!) publications in the States.

So, what I'll say is this: in short, no. I have not seen any explicit reporting that war is imminent. However, there have been a lot of signals that a Big Bad is coming, and that's what a lot of us have been deducing from that. Here are some examples:

PM Justin Trudeau called a summit with most of our major industry leaders, informing them that Trump's annexation threats were very real and that we needed to start preparing.

Following that meeting, he flew to Europe to meet with several EU leaders to strengthen alliances and met with the Secretary-General of NATO for apparently similar discussions.

On a potentially related note, CSIS (our version of the CIA) released a foreign interference intelligence report to Parliament on Jan 28, most of which has not been made available to the public. However, I’ve seen some reporting that the United States was one of the countries mentioned as trying to interfere in our elections, and that the government’s response could be read as a silent invocation of NATO Article 4.

Perhaps most telling of something bad to come: our leaders are reaching across the aisle more than I've ever seen. Trudeau has been meeting with our premiers often, and outside of the numbnut in Alberta, they’ve unanimously come together to work on plans that prioritize Canada. We're hearing some of our most despicable, power-hungry conservatives advocate for Country Over Party and Country Over Province, willingly working with Trudeau—whom not even a month ago they treated like the most egregiously offensive man who ever lived—in supporting his plans to push back on Trump.

Our most conservative, openly pro-Trump candidate for the next election (Pierre Poilievre) is adding the establishment of a new military base and an Arctic defense strategy to his platform.

All candidates have been talking about increasing military spending.

Finally, all of our economic conversations have been focused on trade diversification and expanding internal manufacturing capabilities. We just signed a massive trade deal with China—something we had been refusing to do primarily because of our allegiance to the United States as our ally, which has now clearly been broken.

So yeah. Nothing overt, but it's not looking good.

On the ground, regular people (at least where I live) have been talking about war as if it's a real possibility and discussing what they'd do. Overwhelmingly, people are willing to stand up to this if it comes to it.

War aside, I've never seen anti-American sentiment run so high in this country. It's truly terrifying. People—on the right and left—are buying Canadian and boycotting American products. People are selling their American vacation homes, canceling travel to the U.S. (and those still taking their American vacations are being called traitors in some circles). Companies are ripping up American contracts. Stores are pulling American products off the shelves. And then, of course, there's the booing.

I know this seems grim, but I want to be honest with you. Our nations' relationship has been irrevocably harmed. There is no world where we go back to how it was before—whether or not Trump is gone—because we simply can't trust we won’t be put in this position again. And honestly—no offense to you, your ask was very polite, and I truly sympathize with every American who is as appalled by this as we are—I don’t think Canadians would feel this strongly about “never going back” if it weren’t for the response we’re seeing from American people online and American media.

Initial reactions to these threats were outright dismissal... of a threat to our sovereignty. Then, it was met with jokes and condescension, with late-night hosts chalking it up to picking a fight with your lapdog ally (literally, Jon Stewart called us golden retrievers), and people online treating it like just another crazy Trump-ism. Which is, again, a) not an appropriate reaction to a threat to a country’s sovereignty, and b) a complete dismissal of the real-time effects we're already feeling from this. The Canadian dollar dropped CONSIDERABLY in value the day the tariffs were announced. Just look at the USD:CAD forex charts and see how fucking stupid it looks since Trump took office.

And then, finally, we keep being met with either MAGA idiots who double down on the threat and tell us about how they can't wait to annex us/invade us and how we don't stand a chance against your military, or we're met by well-meaning but ultimately self-centered Americans who didn't vote for Trump and seem to be looking for us to absolve them and confirm we know they, in particular, didn’t do this. Which, like, okay, but how does that help anything? And really, should you be turning to us for comfort in this moment? This might sound dramatic, but literally go to the comment section of any Canadian creator, and you'll see this playing out there. It's aggressive and overwhelming, and you can’t blame Canadians for feeling like we can't count on you (again, en masse—not you specifically) to have our backs.

That said, the Canadian people and the Canadian government still truly sympathize with Americans—and immigrants in America (documented or not)—who did not choose this and are being impacted. We really, truly, and deeply appreciate Americans like you who are seeking out our voices, seeing through the noise, and trying to stay informed.

So, with that in mind, to help with the root of your question regarding news sources... first, I would recommend getting a VPN. I think your online experience would greatly improve. Second, there are a few Canadian sources you can go directly to, like our national broadcaster, the CBC.

Personally, I also enjoy following some left-leaning creators on TikTok, most of whom are journalists. I just try to be careful to keep their biases in mind and do my own follow-up research/think critically about what I hear. Here are a few of my favourites: Kat Arnett - she's a photographer but she used to be a political journalist. She's been pretty great at talking about how Canadians have experienced all of this.

KnittyKnits - she's a progressive (I'd say left but not far left) creator based in Alberta and she covers a lot of Canadian news.

Contra Tenore - He's a left-wing creator who I personally feel has a fairly pragmatic approach to analysis. He's VERY supportive of our left wing party (The New Democratic Party or 'NDP') and he's been talking a lot about this situation with the U.S. He doesn't mince words, though, and sometimes his videos are a little hard to take.

Cole.NotCole - He's probably my favourite starting point for a lot of my research right now. He gives short summaries of the day's news. He's sort of our Aaron Parnas but less problematic and less priviledged. He has a Liberal (center-left) leaning lens, but I don't personally feel he editorializes too much.

JB|Canadian Politics - Overtly progressive, but great political updates in my opinion - bias or no bias. He's been engaging Americans a lot during this whole thing in really interesting ways.

Unlearn16 - They're an extremely progressive high school history teacher (or maybe social studies?). I've really enjoyed their content covering all of this. They do a great job of breaking down the impact of political maneuvering and spelling out historical contexts.

Anyway... I hope this helps! And thank you again for asking. It really does mean a lot to see people seeking out Canadian perspectives at this time.

[hirayalore]

Hi :) Can you read "Sirius Black x Mudblood!Slytherin fem!reader" story. It can also be platonic because of the home and blood status of the reader.

Thank you already

[ sirius black x slytherin!reader | fluff | 2.9k words ]

note. hehehe made a few alterations so that it’d make sense why the reader is put into slytherin despite being “muggle-born” since i don’t think a muggle-born would be placed in the said house (i blame my brain for being too invested that i can’t let it pass hsdjhsjdh).

this is also kinda unedited (unfortunately i too am lazy) and went way longer than intended because i couldn’t resist putting in a little backstory!!! ALSO did i mention that this sirius has me on my knees??????

Everybody always wondered how the Sorting Hat decided to put you in Slytherin.

In their eyes and in their mind, you were a Muggle-born—a filthy Mudblood—the exact kind of wizard that Salazar Slytherin detested and insisted not to invite in Hogwarts during its establishment.

Even now when it has been 7 years since the sorting ceremony, you could feel the curious eyes of everybody in the Great Hall whenever it was hard to sleep, could hear how those Slytherins murmured amongst themselves and asked which family you belonged, taking into consideration that the last name you bore didn’t sound familiar nor seemed like it came from the Sacred Twenty-Eight to be worthy of being part of their Hogwarts house.

But what they weren’t aware of—and what you only came to discover yourself many years later during adulthood—is that you actually came from an ancient and noble pure-blood family, a lineage that was acclaimed to be one of the oldest wizarding clans in Britain until its believed downfall in the late 1950s.

It was just that your parents, who have died for a reason that remained to be unknown (yet believed to be the cause of the Dark Lord), left you at the doorstep of an unsuspecting Muggle family just days before their passing, believing that you were safer at the hands of the non-magic folk.

They were right, of course. The Muggle family that raised you did their best in making sure that you were loved and cherished in every way possible. Hence when you received your Hogwarts letter at the age of 11, although they were confused as you were, they did the best they could to support you and lead you to the world they were convinced you always belonged in.

But contrary to your real parents who had great judgment in bringing you to a loving Muggle home, your Muggle parents were misled to think that it would be good for you to be with others like your kind, oblivious to the discrimination and hatred that you faced for merely growing up with non-wizards.

“That’s my seat, Mudblood,” Mallory Flint practically hissed at you upon finding you in the common room, reading on one of the leather sofas with the thought that you could have some peace and quiet even for a day.

You sighed, closing your book.

At this point, you were smart enough not to fight back and give people like Mallory the satisfaction of being affected by their harsh treatment.

However, as you stood up and attempted to walk past her, she grabbed your arm, holding you in place. “You have something you want to say to me, ____?” she taunted, smirking. “You look angry ‘cause I’m making you leave.”

You press your mouth together, your teeth gritting in self-restraint. “No, I’m not angry.”

Her smirk transformed into a sneer. “Is that so?” she said. “Good then–because you should really know by now that there’s no place for people like you here in Slytherin. Or perhaps do you still need a reminder? A little knock on the head to help you with what you’re always forgetting?”

At the word ‘knock’, Mallory tapped your head with the tip of her wand, leaving a slight sting that you couldn’t pretend didn’t exist.

You bit the insides of your cheeks, a scowl casting your features that she noticed.

She raised her eyebrows, understanding now what ticked you off, and without hesitating, tapped your head again, this time harder.

“Seemed like you do need a few little knocks to get your brain working. Must be due to being a Mudblood and all.”

Her minions laughed at the statement, the obnoxious and annoying sound of their laughter leading you to grow more pissed off than you should be.

It must have been that, and your impatience this evening—and the way Mallory didn’t stop sputtering nonsense, and how the initial peace you thought you were granted earlier was stolen, that brought you to abruptly whip your wand out at the motion of her attempting to hit your head again.

She paused, scoffing, eyes growing darker at the manner in which you pointed it in her direction in warning. “You sure you want to do that, ____?”

At your silence, she gave you another sneer and another hard knock.

On the forehead.

You no longer thought twice, your hand was already moving before you could properly think.

With a quick swish of your wand and a whispered incantation, a hex was sent to Mallory’s direction, hitting her on the front of her face and giving her a minor whiplash. 

“Bloody—” She began to scream in disbelief at your audacity, but her words cut off as her tongue started to change, elongating and hardening into a horn. It gave her the unsettling appearance of a twisted Pinocchio—only instead of an abnormally long nose, it was her tongue that had transformed.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the ridiculousness of how she looked.

But then Mallory’s friends turned to you (after fussing over their leader who was now red in the face and throwing some sort of tantrum), and you were immediately reminded that this standoff wasn’t over unless they already had their revenge.

So, in sudden fear for your life, you sprinted out of the Slytherin common room as fast as you could, hearing their footsteps follow after you with an even faster speed to catch up.

You had no idea where to go, and you were sure that it was past curfew already given the empty hallways that you darted past through. You kept on thinking of places to hide, of vacant classrooms you could run into for the meanwhile, yet given how your mind was in shambles and playing a loop of Mallory’s tongue turning into a frightening horn, you just couldn’t identify where the best hiding spot could be.

That is until you turned to the left corridor of the seventh floor and spotted a massive door you didn't recall ever seeing, its sight urging you to come closer and come in.

You took a pause, contemplating if it was wise to go inside a room you had a strange feeling about, but at the sound of your bullies’ footsteps getting louder, you deduced that you had no choice and grabbed the door handle, no time for second-guessing.

Quickly stepping inside, you tried to lock the door to prevent them from coming in if ever they realize that this is where you must have gone to. 

However, such measures didn’t need to be done because as soon as you were in the darkly lit room, catching your breath and making sense of what was happening—the door began to slowly deteriorate in front of you, slowly being absorbed in the wall and vanishing subsequently.

“Shite,” you whispered, panic bubbling in your system at the realization that you might be trapped here for the whole night.

You took a step back, examining the entirety of the wall, trying to see something that wasn’t there to help you with your case. But there was nothing, only granite or stale or whatever material it was that these stones were made of. 

“It’ll come back,” a sudden drawling voice interrupted your inner turmoil and made you freeze on the spot. “I’d say give it a few minutes or so.”

You swiveled around almost immediately, alerted by the presence of another person in this makeshift sanctuary the castle made for you. 

The moment you did, your gaze landed ahead to where a boy with dark mid-length hair was leaning forward against the balcony, his back turned to you. You couldn’t see his features clearly, even when he moved his head to the side to reveal a cigarette between his lips—yet the moment he looked in your direction and your eyes met, it dawned on you who this boy was.

Sirius Black, one of the four infamous troublemakers in Gryffindor.

You blinked in surprise while he kept his eyes locked on you, blowing a ring of smoke in the air with unusual ease.

The both of you have never interacted before despite being in the same batch and a few classes since first year. You were sure that the reason behind that was perhaps his great hatred towards Slytherins, as you were no stranger to how he often delivered biting remarks towards Severus Snape and yelled insults to your house at every acceptable opportunity he could find (e.g. Quidditch matches).

Nonetheless, you’ve always been silently thankful that his annoyance towards Slytherin never extended to you, as you reckoned you were already suffering enough with the majority of your housemates alone to deal with another menace like himself.

“I hope you’re not planning to stand there all evening,” he said.

At his comment, you forced yourself to march towards the balcony, not knowing how you should approach this peculiar situation. A part of you was convinced that being here was no better than being out there, but the other part was telling you that Sirius hasn’t hexed you yet so that must be a good sign.

When you reached the balcony, the cool air greeted you and tossed your hair back in the breeze. You squinted a bit, brushing aside the slight burning sensation it gave your eyes, and took in the beauty of the night horizon. You didn’t even think Hogwarts offered such a view, maybe due to how your common room was in dungeons and you were far too much of a coward when it came to extreme heights to reward yourself with this kind of scenery.

You could see the school grounds, the distant ridges of the Scottish Highlands… the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Pitch, the Black Lake that appeared serene in the moonlight…  

“Wow,” you breathed out, not realizing that you said it loud enough for Sirius to hear.

He glanced at you. Then, his hand suddenly stretched closer to where you were, offering a cigarette with a casual gesture. “You seem like you need it.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Regardless, you took the stick from his possession.

Sirius waited, staring, and upon feeling like you were left with no option but to finish what you started, you hesitantly took a drag, inhaling far too quickly that as soon as the smoke entered your lungs, you were coughing it out—your throat burning and eyes watering alongside it.

A smirk flickered across his face. “You’ve never done that before,” he said, his tone making it very apparent that he was stating a fact and not asking for a confirmation.

You urged him to reclaim the cigarette with haste, still coughing while also fanning the smoke away. “Merlin, why do you lot—” cough, cough— “enjoy that? It’s like gulping down a mouthful of dragon's breath!”

“It can be therapeutic.” He brought it again to his lips and drew deeply on the cigarette, releasing a slow puff of smoke. “And you should have told me you’ve never smoked before. Peer pressure isn’t exactly my style.”

“I wanted to give it a go.”

“Which clearly, you hated.”

“Clearly.” You were still coughing, your mouth awfully tasting like ash. 

Sirius grinned. “Well, at least you know better than to take a cigarette without knowing how to smoke next time.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

He watched in obvious amusement as you continued to cough, looking like you wished you could conjure water or whatever it was that would help the itching that you were still feeling inside your throat to go away. It was unlike you to go head on with something so unfamiliar and so… unorthodox as smoking, but there must have been something with the already unpredictable events of this evening or the presence of a mischief-maker as Sirius that coerced you to do it.

You twisted around once you calmed down, returning to your previous position to go back in admiring the starry sky, unbeknownst that Sirius was still staring at you. “Will it really take long before the door appears again?”

“Not too long.” He exhaled the last wisp of smoke away from you, then pressed the cigarette to the cool stone of the balcony, snuffing it out with a slow motion. “Just until the people you’re running from are far enough.”

Heat crept to your face. “I wasn’t running away from people.”

“Sure you weren’t.” That obnoxious smirk made a reappearance on his infuriatingly handsome features. “And I didn’t go here because I was running away from Filch.”

That made you scoff. “You were running away from Filch?”

“Yeah. James and I put Dungbombs in his office.” He seemed proud. “Then we almost got caught, and James ran back to the Gryffindor Tower while I went here to my favorite hiding spot.”

You looked at your surroundings, pretty much confused on which part of the castle you were supposed to be. “Where are we exactly?”

“No clue.” Sirius shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he indeed didn’t have a clue on where you two  were exactly. “Only thing I know about this place is that it’s here whenever I need it. The first time I found it, it was last year when I was sneaking out at night and almost ran into Professor McGonagall.”

“Of course, you were.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” He asked, going back to the main topic, curious. “Was it Filch too?”

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t Filch.”

“A professor?”

“No.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

A snort. “No.”

“Then who?”

You sighed, relenting on just disclosing who the person was since you reckoned it wasn’t information that needed to be kept secret at all cost anyways. “It was Mallory Flint—well, her minions, actually—but it’s because of her. Always been. I’m sure you’re well aware of who she is.”

“I am.” He narrowed his eyes, pretending to think. “She’s that Slytherin girl who looks like she might have been conceived from a troll, isn’t she?”

The unforeseen insult caused you to laugh out loud, your laughter slightly echoing in the walls. “Yes, you are absolutely right.”

Sirius laughed as well. “What’d she do?”

“Oh, you know, the standard. Insulting me, taunting me, rubbing it in my face that I’m a—” You abruptly stopped yourself, this sense of awareness that you were babbling too much hitting you hard.

This was Sirius Black for Merlin’s sake. He hated Slytherins, and you knew that he came from a lineage of respectable pure-blood wizards too (qualities of his that were awfully contradicting). Venting about the discrimination you constantly faced and the bullying you had to endure since you stepped foot in this school might not be the smartest decision to make.

“A Muggle-born.” He finished for you.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. That.”

“Typical. They always think that they’re bloody above everybody else.”

“You don’t think the same?” you asked. “I mean, you’re not much different than they are.”

Sirius scowled at that, like the implication of your words offended him. “Being a pure-blood is not something worth flaunting about.”

“It doesn’t look like it to other people.”

“Well,” he breathed in deeply, gray eyes flickering to the view ahead, “those kinds of people have nothing to brag about other than being a pure-blood. A bit tragic if you come to think of it.”

“I suppose.” Your fingers were absentmindedly scratching the material of your robes. “So, does that mean you have other things to brag about other than being in the noble house of Black?” You then added with a tease.

His lips curved up, displaying an expression that showed a combination of a smirk and grin. “Obviously. With a face like mine, do you really think anyone sees me and immediately thinks about my bloodline?”

The confidence, the way he looked at you, and the fact that he was goddamn correct made you blush. It led you to be speechless for a good minute, staring at him and his face that really could make anyone forget about his last name—something that you know he notices with how his grin takes its full form.

However, before he could comment about it and make you wish that the ground would swallow you whole, his gaze shifted to the doors, and you followed suit, exhaling in relief as the exit reappeared, granting you a chance to escape.

“Uh, I should go,” you said immediately, a statement that he raised an eyebrow at in obvious amusement. “Wouldn’t want to be caught or anything.”

“Sure, love. You do that.”

You ignored the hard beat of your heart. “And you? You’ll stay?”

“For a few minutes more, yeah.”

“Alright. Well…” You trailed, already inching towards the door. “Bye, then.”

You muttered curses under your breath as you made a run for it towards the doors, scolding yourself for appearing like a damn fool in front of Sirius. You were certain that he was making fun of you in his head, or that he was going to tell this encounter to James Potter, or that when you wake up tomorrow, your housemates will find another reason to torment you because of being chummy with a Gryffindor like Sirius.

“Hey, ____.”

You stopped in your tracks. Not only because he called your name, but because you were shocked that he even knew it in the first place.

With a slow turn, you saw him leaning backwards against the balcony, elbows supporting him.

“Hm?” You tried to act nonchalant.

He tilted his head slightly, smiling smugly, and carried on uttering the words that you’d come to replay in your mind over and over again.

“Same time tomorrow?”

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[itsnesss]

hi! can I request a hwang in-ho x pregnant wife!reader? I think it would be really cute, but feel free to turn it down if you’re uncomfortable! Thank you! <3

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | hwang in-ho (the frontman) × fem!reader

summary | you, pregnant and married to in-ho, share a quiet, loving moment with him as you both feel the baby move

warnings | pregnant!reader, fluff, romance, mild emotional themes

word count | 1.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

In bed, you and him share a well-deserved rest after so many emotions. The sound of his calm breathing lulls you, like a whisper that connects you to him even more deeply.

You slowly open your eyes. It’s one of those nights when you wake up for no apparent reason, as if something called you. At first, you can't identify it, but when you glance to your side and see Hwang In-ho, your husband, sleeping soundly, you understand. There is nothing to fear at this moment, nothing that could break the peace surrounding you.

The pregnancy has made you more sensitive than usual, and though sometimes you feel the fatigue overwhelming you, being here, in his arms, with your baby growing inside you, makes everything else fade away.

You gaze at In-ho with a mixture of admiration and love. His face, serene and relaxed in sleep, reflects a calmness that has always given you security. The man who once was part of the dark operation of Squid Game is now the man who takes care of you, the one who has given you the life you always dreamed of.

You move carefully, trying not to wake him. Your belly, already big and round, constantly reminds you of what’s coming, of what you’ve already done: giving life to a new person who will grow alongside you, sharing the same values of love, loyalty, and peace you’ve found with him.

In-ho, sensing the movement, slowly wakes up. His expression, still sleepy, turns to concern as he sees you sitting on the bed.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, his voice rough from sleep.

"No, I just... couldn’t sleep," you reply softly, offering a small smile.

He sits up, studying you with that protective intensity he’s always had. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night; he always worries about you, about how you feel. Since the moment you told him you were expecting a baby, he hasn’t stopped showing you his support.

"Is the baby okay?" he asks, his voice now filled with care and concern.

You nod, placing your hand gently on your belly.

"Yes, everything is perfect. It's just... sometimes it’s hard to rest."

He moves closer, placing his hand over yours, which rests on your belly, and looks at you with those eyes that always seem to shine more when he’s looking at you.

"I understand. This pregnancy has tested you, but you're not alone. I’m here, remember? I’ll always be by your side."

A wave of gratitude and love floods you as you hear his words. You know they aren’t just empty promises; he’s proven it in every little gesture, in every action. In-ho has been the pillar that has supported your life, not only in the happy moments but also in the darkest ones. And now, with the baby on the way, his support is more important than ever.

You lean closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He embraces you tightly, as if he wants to make sure nothing can harm you, that nothing can take you out of this safe place.

"I love you," you whisper, closing your eyes as you enjoy his warmth.

In-ho breathes deeply, as though by inhaling your scent, he draws strength from it. At first, he doesn’t respond, but then his voice, soft and filled with affection, breaks the silence.

"I love you too, more than words can express. Not just for what you do for me, but for everything you are."

His words are like a caress to your soul. Since you married him, your life has changed in ways you never imagined. What started as a love full of uncertainty is now the foundation of your world. He’s shown you an unconditional love, a love that transcends the past and everything both of you have gone through before finding each other.

Suddenly, a small movement inside you makes you smile. It’s the baby, reminding you that there’s a new life growing inside you, that soon it will be part of this great love you share with In-ho. You feel that he notices it too, as he looks down at your belly.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, a spark of excitement shining in his eyes.

"Yes, it just moved," you say, your voice full of tenderness, and you can’t help but stroke your belly as if doing so will transmit all the love you feel.

In-ho places his hand over yours, feeling the tiny kick of his child for the first time. He smiles with a mix of disbelief and happiness. You know the idea of being a father fills him with a deep love that he never expected.

"It’s incredible... I can’t wait to hold him in my arms," he says, his voice filled with emotion, more sincere than you ever imagined.

You smile and hug him tighter. Words aren’t needed at this moment. The connection between the two of you is deeper than any conversation. Everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve endured, now makes sense. Because the future ahead is brighter than you ever imagined.

You stay in silence for a moment, enjoying the embrace, the quiet intimacy. Time passes without you even realizing it, until the first rays of sunlight begin to filter through the window. In-ho kisses your forehead before getting up slowly, making sure not to wake you completely.

"I’m going to make breakfast," he says in a soft voice, smiling.

You stretch, feeling a bit tired but happy. The idea that he’s there for you, doing little things to make you feel good, makes you smile.

"Don’t worry, I can wait," you softly reply, settling back into the bed.

But he looks at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness he rarely shows in public, and walks over to you again, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you won’t go hungry," he says with a playful smile.

You laugh softly and watch him leave the room, his steps firm and assured. You know that In-ho will always be the man who makes you feel safe, who will never stop fighting for you, for the baby, for your family. The future with him is everything you ever wanted.

You sit there in silence, thinking about all that is to come. In-ho’s love has changed you in ways you never expected. Not only has he given you a new life, but he’s shown you a love that will always be there, even on the darkest days.

[cakerybakery]

Dinner was going well. Charlie was a bit surprised. Since Lucifer came to live at the hotel and Adam revived almost six months ago, nearly every meal had been a battlefield.

Alastor picking a fight with Lucifer. Lucifer and Adam at each other’s throats. And that was on top of various dramas involving overlords and sinners.

But things were settling down.

Even when Alastor was trying to get under Lucifer’s skin, Adam seemed to have taken over calming things down. If calming things down meant, telling Alastor to quiet his ass up and for Lucifer to sit his ass back down, then interrupting Alastor every time he tried to make an excuse with a, “kid, I told you to shut up.” Alastor usually vanished after that.

Alastor had left for the night when Adam asked for someone to please pass the salt.

Lucifer handed it to Charlie, “please pass this to your mother, would you, darling?”

“Sure— what did you say?” Charlie blinked as several people started to choke on their drinks or food.

“ADAM!” Lucifer gave a hysterical fake laugh. “Slip of the tongue! I forgot for a moment, we— that. It’s I— Adam! Help me out here.”

“Fuck, no!” Adam wheezed between laughs. “You’re on your own, daddy.” He teased.

Lucifer shot Adam a dirty look as Husk tried to dislodge a piece of chicken from Angel’s throat.

“You might as well tell her.” Adam said still trying to get his breath back.

“Tell me what?” Charlie asked, glaring accusingly at Lucifer, who still fumbled over his words.

“It’s— well. Uhhh. Charlie, darling.”

Charlie pulled away as Lucifer reach for her hand. “Don’t tell me you two are dating.” She wanted to be supportive but that set Adam off again and the colour drained from Lucifer’s cheek marks.

“NO!” Lucifer glared at Adam. “I was going to tell her when I was ready! Asshole.”

“Seriously. Tell me what?”

Lucifer reached for her again but pulled away and fiddled with his cuffs instead. “The divorce is finalized. We signed the paperwork this morning. I’ve been a little distracted, thinking about your mother. Adam had been helping me the last few weeks to get up the nerve to sign everything.”

Adam winked and shot her a finger gun. “Not my first divorce. Been married and divorced six times now. Figured helping him rip the bandage off would net me some of those good karma points or whatever.”

“Oh.” That was all? She knew this was coming. Lilith took off all those years ago and Charlie often told herself Lilith was doing something important, but there had been all the fights, and her mom stormed out, and the divorce papers in the mail.

She knew. But her heart kind of hurt anyway. Things were never going back to normal. To how they had been when she was a kid.

“That’s good news!” She did her best to put on a happy face. “You guys weren’t happy anymore. It’s better than being miserable together.” She tried to remember some of the “So your parents are getting divorced, Champ” pamphlets she’d read when the divorce papers first showed up.

Stuff like, ‘It’s not your fault mommy and daddy aren’t together,’ didn’t seem applicable right now, but, “Sometimes people just grow apart, Dad. And it’s better if you two can move on and find happiness again.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought.” Lucifer smiled softly at her.

“Told you.” Adam had settled back in the eat his food. “She a tough kid. You did a good job with her.”

Lucifer flushed gold. “I—uh, thank you?”

“No problem.”

Dinner settled back down and Adam got his salt, getting plenty of ribbing about Lucifer slip of the tongue in.

Charlie started to clear the table, it was her turn that night, and Adam and Lucifer gave her thanks before leaving and looking closer than they used to be.

“Daddy up for a movie?” Adam teased, jostling Lucifer’s shoulder as they left.

Lucifer snorted. “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

“Never.”

“Turn about is fairplay, mommy.”

She could hear them as they went down the hall.

“Bitch, you think that bothers me? I’m too awesome to care. Now answer the question.”

“Depends on if mommy wants to watch that crappy Titanic movie again or something good.” Lucifer teased.

Adam faked a gasp. “That movie is a classic! It’s cinematic perfection!”

They wandered too far for Charlie to hear anymore of their conversation. But it left her wondering. She shouldn’t assume, but it seemed funny to her that it took someone new in her father’s life for him to move past the divorce at last. Maybe they were just friends.

…

But the mommy/daddy thing was weird, right?

[squidsinashirt]

U must have some amazing stories about your dad u can share! 🤩

I’ve sat on this one for a bit, sorry Anon. Wasn’t intentional but I… just didn’t know how to answer it.

I mean, I get it. He’s Jeff Tracy, right? The Jeff Tracy. I can remember being just a little kid, and going to meet him off coming home from his latest mission. All these huge crowds cheering for him, those amazing rockets, and little me thinking all this, for my dad?

The thing is, everybody has their own stories about him. It’s fascinating, because you’ll hear all these other tales that exist only thanks to other people. Colonel Casey, Captain Taylor, heck even Kip Harris knew him. All these huge figures have got larger than life tales of the incredible things Jeff Tracy did, and was, and inspired. There’s statues and plaques to him, and you can take a tour at the space centre about his missions, and there’s books and movies and documentaries…

There are five incredible machines he dreamt up, standing by to help achieve this fantastical goal of his to help the world. I suppose in a way, you get to snatch a little glimpse of who Jeff Tracy was, and what he believed in, every time one of them appears to save the day. Every time some kid points an excited finger up at Thunderbird Two or squints after a contrail that was Thunderbird One, there he is. That magic, that excitement, that kind of imposing extraordinary that he did so well.

Anyway, to get back on track. People come bounding up to us, to me, and they ask this sort of question all the time, and that’s the thing about being JEFFTRACYSSON (said in one breath at rapid pace, because that’s the way people greet you). I get the curiosity, I really do. I don’t say it with any malice intended, and it’s comforting to know he still has that kind of impact. I’m always happy to talk about him, I promise!

It’s simple to be JEFFTRACYSSON when you pull on an International Rescue uniform. It took a little practice to ease into at first, but it’s perfected now. It’s really easy to talk about how we believe in his dream, how we’ve all taken on that duty in our individual and collective ways. In the importance of iR, in what it means to us as family. Shiny uniform, perfect hair, smile and wave and save some lives 💪🏻

Please don’t read into this in the wrong way - I’m very proud to be Jeff Tracy’s son. It’s actually quite difficult to really put across how strongly I feel about the weight of that title, because it’s pretty sacred (and also a little intimidating at times). Everywhere we go, it’s “oh, you must be Jeff’s boy” or “oh, you’re a Tracy”, and that means there’s instantly an expectation to live up to, both publicly and privately. It’s a privilege, it really is, and I think it’s a kind of sacrosanct commitment that has really been at the centre of my thinking as I’ve gotten older - how to try and be the sort of man that deserves that kind of birthright.

I don’t just mean the public side of being Jeff Tracy’s son. See, behind the scenes, to me, to us as a family, he was every bit human in a very ordinary way.

He made the best Sunday pancakes.

He cheered far too loudly at swim competitions (and teenage me was perpetually mortified by it) and was every bit as encouraging and supportive as you might guess.

He told these excellent, awful dad jokes, always at just the wrong (or right, I suppose) moments that made you groan.

He used to let me drive his old truck up the drive when he came home from a long mission, playing country songs with the window rolled down.

We loved pranking Mom together by hiding in the laundry bin and jumping out like idiots.

He told the most spectacular, far fetched bedtime stories he swore were real, and my brothers and I could never get enough of them.

He was also away for months on end in space, or training, or lost in his plans and ideas and dreams, and sometimes that meant he wasn’t really here with us, even if he was.

He couldn’t do laundry for shit, and he was absolutely useless at trying to run a house with five young sons on his own, and only a military background to lean on for ideas (thanks Grandma and Scott for saving that one).

Being Jeff Tracy’s son is a little more complex than just the uniform, I guess, and because of that I don’t always recognise the Jeff Tracy in the books and the movies, the one that people are so desperate to hear more about.

I think that’s why I find answering questions like this so difficult, and why maybe my answers never land particularly well with the people who ask this. Because the expectation for them is an entire reel of grand tales that haven’t been heard yet out of me. Some heroic, unbelievable stories that reads like the plaques - and then they are always a little disappointed that it turns out all I can say is that he was a real person. Somebody who was very human and very brilliant and very flawed, and who I loved very much. Because to me, he’s my dad.

And ultimately, nobody wants to hear about that. It doesn’t fit their two dimensional, mythical image of him, or my brothers and I for that matter. Us being a fairly regular family doesn’t really inspire the kind of tales that perhaps lend themselves to be told.

(This is the biggest reason I don’t do interviews, because I’d be like you wanna hear about the time he took us on a hiking trip, got us lost in a storm and Mom nearly divorced him because she thought we’d all been eaten by coyotes? No? It’s hilarious, honestly!)

That’s alright, though. Like I said, the movies and the books are there to tell those stories, and Lee Taylor will happily yap your ear off for an hour about their exploits if you want. Dad’s legacy, in that form, is more than secure.

They’re not going to ever be able to tell you about his favourite pancake toppings though, or his favourite song to dance to in the kitchen or his favourite swear word, and there’s the real privilege in getting to be Jeff Tracy’s son. In getting to carry him forward, not just the stories.

…

…

This got a lot deeper than I intended it to go. I’ve had a beer and I rambled. Sorry Anon.

Ahem. Good question! I guess I’m just not the best person to answer it, ironically enough ;)

I guess the best that I can offer is that if you are ever in trouble and call us, just know that there was a really great human being behind the face that made it all possible, who told the worst jokes, but who cared a whole f-ing lot.

*insert generic story here about Dad and a rocket*

[redsugarx]

青白之魅 6: Conclusion

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

If you’ve followed this series all the way to the end, thank you for your support! A lot more people saw it than I thought would, and I’m really happy that I got to share my process and thoughts with you :) I read all your replies/tags and they make me super happy! There are just a few more things I want to address to wrap things up now.

behind the scenes vid of me with Dragun that Bloomin Studio recorded for us :)

Things That Went Wrong

I am a strong believer in the scientific method and the scientific method involves error analysis!!!!! Also I don’t want it to look like all of this went off without a hitch. That wouldn’t be fair to the complexity of this project and all the people who helped me work through and solve the problems. So here are some of the ways in which We Fucked Up.

Embroidery positioning: The bottoms of the sleeves were accidentally sewn together before the pieces were sent to the embroidery workshop. If you put the whole sleeve into the machine the embroidery would go through both the front and back of the sleeve, making it unwearable. To solve this, we had to pull the stitches out from the bottom of the sleeve, have it embroidered, and then have it sent back to a tailor's shop to repair the seam. 

Tear in fabric: Lily organza/crystal organza admittedly is a very fragile fabric, especially for machine embroidering. It’s extremely thin, and the surface is very smooth and slippery, which looks phenomenal but makes embroidering it really hard. I covered this in the last post, but long story short, in the process of embroidering one sleeve on the green set, the fabric got snagged in the machinery and tore a hole in the bottom of the sleeve.

At first the plan was to remake the entire sleeve piece, but because the color of the fabric was custom-printed, when I had a new piece of fabric printed for the new sleeve, the color didn’t match exactly, so we had to make do with the existing fabric. In the end we shortened the width of the sleeve so that it cut off above the hole, moving the seam up. Thankfully it didn’t really show up in the pictures, but you can see when it’d laid flat how the ‘margin’ under the snake embroidery for this garment is unusually small, because it got cut off.

Lateness: We ran like a full hour or two overtime with our hair & makeup. This is unfortunately not at all unusual for fashion projects like this, but as a result we lost like a third of our photography time, so there were some shots that I would’ve loved to get that we didn’t have time for. 

Forgotten items: There were a number of things we forgot to bring down to SoCal with us. The biggest thing was probably our steamer. Fortunately, because this set is mostly polyester, it didn’t get too too wrinkled, but there are still some creases and folds that we would’ve steamed out had we gotten the chance.

Fav Shots

Shh not all of these are published anywhere else.

Things I Would've Done (if I had infinite time and money)

Lingzhi - I don't have any photos of it but I bought a replica lingzhi herb (the magic fungus that Bai Suzhen steals to revive Xu Xian after her dies of shock from seeing her snake form) prop. We didn't get around to using it but it would've been a really nice major callback to the story. Also I would've gotten to talk about how I think it's highly possible people thought the lingzhi was magic because they ate it and started tripping balls

Willow branches - Willow branches by the West Lake feature heavily in the opera. I wanted to get willow branches to hang from the backdrop but unfortunately wasn't able to find ones that were realistic enough. They were replaced with dried water reeds, but most of the pictures weren't shot high enough to get them in frame.

Swords - In the opera, Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing both carry swords. Also, swords are also just cool as hell. I do own one prop sword, but it was too big to fit in my suitcase even diagonally, and also I really didn't want to deal with TSA side-eyeing me about it (even though it technically counts as a prop or sports equipment), so we did not get any swords in the photoshoot.

Extremely specific shot with snakes on the floor - I have this concept of a shot: the empty set, without me or my sister in it, with both Dragun and Spirit on the floor. It would be so cool to do like a snake form -> human form diptych concept! We didn't have time to get both the snakes out at the same time unfortunately. Artistic rendition below LOL

artist's rendition

Credits & Thanks

Credit should be served where credit is due!!! I probably mentioned most of them somewhere but I want to reiterate that a whole lot of people helped make this happen and I appreciate them a lot.

Day Of:

Yulan, as the White Snake (ig @/chlobaltblue), especially for all the Talking To People Thing parts (that I hate doing)

Bloomin Studio (ig @/bloominstudioofficial), photographer

Cujo from Art of Scales (ig @/art_of_scales), for providing us with Spirit & Dragun as well as the space

Kevin (ig/@k.evinzhao), for driving and getting us stuff

Preparation:

Jinerjia（cutting & sewing）

Xishi Pavilion (cutting & sewing）

Chenxi Workshop (cutting & sewing + alteration)

Hantangfengshang（cutting & sewing）

Changxin Embroidery (digitizing & machine embroidering + alteration)

Hanyiren (patternmaking + CAD)

Xingluzhe (fabric printing + laser cutting)

Final Thoughts

In the introduction I talked a little bit about our intentions with this project and the cultural elements that I attempted to adapt and interact with. The Legend of the White Snake is one of the most well-known Chinese folktales out there, and yet there are so many wonderfully intricate details within it that people don't know about.

Snakes have a bad reputation in a lot of cultures. Evil, dangerous, and malicious, they're often cast as the scheming villains of the story, sly and sneaky characters whose goal is to do you harm. They are not the only victims of a bad reputation—every great dynasty always has some beautiful woman to blame for its eventual downfall. People have been arguing over the game of fault and intention for centuries. Even in the hanfu community, there is an unprecedented amount of infighting over what should or should not count as hanfu, who is 'allowed' to appreciate it, or who can take 'ownership' of it.

I think that's the last thing we need in this day and age. I'm reflecting on this project at a time that is uniquely terrifying for many minorities, especially in the US, who seem to be being persecuted for the crime of simply existing. I don't claim to be fighting for justice, I'm just a student in a world that is far too large for anyone to comprehend. But I hope that I helped make something beautiful happen, and I hope that we shared that with someone else, even if it's just a few people, who are reminded that it's not all for nothing :)

-

Okay, we're pretty much done here. I really enjoyed this process and documenting the whole thing, and I definitely want to do something like this again someday, but I definitely don't have the energy to do this kind of thing very often! If a big project does come up again I'll probably document it in a similar way, but it probably won't be for several months/even years. I'll keep posting hanfu articles and maybe document some smaller single-post projects on here at some point :)

Thank you for letting me share this process with you, and feel free to reply/reblog/send asks/whatever with thoughts, questions or concerns! Please interact with me it brings me joy.

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

Here's a picture of my snake to close out (his name is Porcupine/Porky for short/滷肉飯 and he's the dumbest animal I've ever met)

[ktrew]

This collage is something I drew years ago.

Even back then, I dreamed of making a comic about this couple. It was just an idea, a spark, and I had no clue if I could actually pull it off. And now? Almost 60 pages in, and this story has become something so much bigger than I ever imagined. The romance is in full swing, the stakes are rising, and there’s still so much ahead!

But sometimes, I look back at these early pieces and remember just how scared I was to start. Could I really do this? Would I have the time, the energy? Would anyone even care, or would this just be a story for myself?

I’m so, so glad I didn’t let those doubts stop me. And I’m even happier that I don’t have to walk this journey alone. Knowing that so many of you are here- reading, commenting, waiting for updates, supporting me on Patreon, and even sharing your thoughts and advice- means more than I can ever put into words.

Thank you for being part of this story with me.